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Out of the Silent Planet	By : moirasfate Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 71680 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Title: Out of the Silent Planet (11/39)
Author: moirasfate/ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA/NC-17
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Plot driven smut, Darkfic, Romance, Drama, Angst...
Warnings: M/F, Bondage, slight non-con, Dark!Draco, and HBP spoilers.
Summary: Post-Hogwarts - Hermione Granger fulfills Severus Snape's final wish, to journey to Japan to �retrieve' something of importance. Set eleven years after HBP.
Author's Notes: This is my first DM/HG ficlet, so please be kind to the newbie! The title of this fic is taken from C.S. Lewis' book, first in the Perelandra Chronicles.

Many thanks to kazfeist for improving this chapter!

Out of the Silent Planet
Chapter Eleven - Of blood oaths, libations, and strange advances

Hermione found that all her bathing supplies had been placed in the wash area of the spring, previous to her arrival as if waiting for her to use them. Absently she scrubbed her body, after sloppily doffing her kimono in the changing room. Silently she lathered her body and her greasy hair, lost in her thoughts. As she rinsed her body only to begin scrubbing again, she shook her head roughly as if to forcefully banish any thoughts from her mind.

"Hanako?" she asked, wiping a bit of stinging shampoo from her eyes.

"Yes, Mistress?"

"Has Mal-Master Ryu harmed anyone in this household during the time I was asleep?" Hermione asked, a sudden fear growing in her mind that perhaps Lady Kaori and Lady Fuumi were somehow indisposed.

"No, Mistress. He has threatened to harm them if they interfered, but he has not moved to harm them," Hanako said softly and sadly.

"Has he harmed you?" Hermione asked, watching as her wash basin filled again from the spigot water.

"Only when he banished me that night. I almost faded away when he pushed me beyond the wards protecting the property."

"But you have recovered your strength?"

Hermione poured the basin over her head, shivering as a particularly strong winter breeze licked at her bare back.

"Yes, Mistress, but I dare not go against Master Ryu again."

Hermione lowered the basin to the stone floor and sighed, wrapping her arms about herself, again lost in her own thoughts. Slowly she rose from the stool she had been squatting upon and moved to the edge of the steam covered spring. Dipping her icy toes into the steaming water was tantamount to extreme pain. Hermione felt cold, but the circulation in her extremities had not fully returned and the scalding water felt like millions of tiny needles gouging her foot. But she knew that the healing waters would perhaps help with her overall chill and she stepped into the water, wincing only slightly as the water came up over her hips to her waist. Lowering her body into the water, all the while piling her damp hair atop her head, Hermione sighed. No matter what had been done or said, the hot spring seemed to whisk her worries away as the mineral rich water permeated her flesh and began to work the stiffness out of her body. And as her body began to relax, she realized how hungry she was; it had been days perhaps since she had eaten a proper meal.

Leaning back against the rocky side of the spring, Hermione let her limbs float in the water. The heat of the water was working wonders and for what seemed like it had been ages, Hermione felt at ease. She closed her eyes and relished the warmth returning to her body, but with the sound of water running from the spigots in the bathing area alerted Hermione she was no longer the only corporeal presence in the bath. Opening her eyes to peer through the rising steam, Hermione immediately noticed that Hanako's glowing form had retreated into the changing room and was slowly dissipating. Holding her breath, she moved her tired eyes to the other form, pale skin glowing slightly golden in the lamplight, kneeling on the stones before a wash spigot. Hermione felt her heart quiver strangely as her eyes traced the ridges of Draco Malfoy's spine under his ashen skin.

Ducking his head under the running water, Malfoy wet his long silvery hair and from Hermione's vantage point she could just make out the raised gooseflesh along his wide shoulders. She was hesitant to look at the scarred and mottled flesh of his maimed left arm, and turned her interest to watching the man scrub at his flesh with a raw bar of soap, lathering his skin and scrubbing with the tips of his fingers, over his chest and around his neck. Malfoy was trim, just as Hermione remembered when she first saw him in his Glamoured form the first night she had arrived at the ryokan. The only differences from his Glamoured and true appearance were more distinct in his face and the color of his hair. As he knelt on one knee before the running spigot, Hermione was caught up in surveying his back, his slender waist, his wide shoulders and slim hips. He had little body hair, only the light hair on his legs, arm and head seemed to be what covered his near perfect flesh.

Hermione gasped, feeling like a peeping tom, as Malfoy turned slightly, pouring a basin of water over his head with his only hand. It was difficult for Hermione to imagine that someone so fair and beautiful could be so cruel and mad. She let her body sink down in the water a bit more as Malfoy began scrubbing his hair, using as much care as she had with her own caramel tresses. When he rinsed for a third time, the foamy trails of soap washed from his body, he rose to his feet and seemed to stretch. With a flick of the wrist, Malfoy charmed the lamps out, casting winter darkness over the onsen and the washing area. Hermione flinched as her unaccustomed eyes could no longer follow Malfoy's movements, but she listened as gentle splashes of water signified that Malfoy was entering the spring. An uncomfortable feeling spread through her as listened to the subtle lapping of water against flesh got closer to where she sat on the rock shelf under the water.

A cold hand seemed to appear through the blackness of the night and grasp Hermione's upper left arm, causing her to scream out of fright. Her body was suddenly plucked out of the water and pulled forward, the grasp of the cold hand on her arm bruising in strength. Wet hair falling around her shoulders in dripping tendrils, Hermione's right cheek slapped damply against Malfoy's chest, proving that he stood almost a head taller than she. Her hands clenched in fists, guarding her upper body, Hermione stiffened as Malfoy's hand released her arm and wrapped around her shoulders, pressing her against his nude body.

Beneath her ear, Hermione listened to the slow, steady and strong beat of Malfoy's heart. It was strange, feeling his arm about her, listening to his heart, shivering as his breath vibrated the tiny hairs floating about her head that formed her large mass of damp hair. If Malfoy's intentions were to fluster her, confuse and overwhelm her, he was succeeding wonderfully. Hermione's body was involuntarily responding to Malfoy's embrace, but she was tense, afraid that at any moment he would hurt her somehow. This bizarre combination of hurt and comfort, cold and hot, cruel and kind was driving Hermione insane. He released her, letting her slip down into the warm water again. He moved away to sink into the water and treading across the pool, caring not that his hair fell into the water. Hermione floated to sit on the rock shelf again, feeling overheated and tired.

"Have you thought of your decision, Granger?" Malfoy's gruff voice asked in her ear. She flinched, not realizing that Malfoy had returned to her side, sitting on the same rock shelf just to her left. He leaned back, his arm resting upon the rim of the rock surrounding the spring, just behind her shoulders. She could only just see his face, her eyes becoming accustomed to the starlight, the only source of illumination.

"I will escort you back to Britain...but until you find it fit to return to your home, I cannot leave your side. After that point, you want no contact with me, but you will compensate my pains with a generous donation to the Longbottom Apothecaries..." Hermione began.

"Cripes, Longbottom and apothecary in one phrase is a bit unbelievable," Malfoy muttered, but Hermione continued undaunted.

"You will not harm me in any fashion or call me that contemptible phrase you are so fond of referring to me as, and you will use your influence not to be a nuisance to me or my friends as long as you live. Those are the conditions stated. If you swear to those, I will agree to release you from the vows and wards keeping you in Japan," Hermione said distantly, her body too warm and her head beginning to hurt. She rose from the water, too overcome to care if Malfoy could see her naked. Slowly she walked through the water and to the edge of the pool, where she faltered slightly, but made it out of the water. Once in the open air, she immediately felt better as her body began to cool. When she approached the darkened washing area, the lamps relit, blinding her for a moment. Passing into the dressing room, the lamps lit there as well and that was when Hermione found her wand atop a clean and folded plain linen yukata.

Pulling on the robe, she stiffened at the sound of Malfoy's damp feet slapping against the stones and as he paused inside the doorway, Hermione took a breath and cast several drying charms on herself. Malfoy passed by her and Hermione could feel the heat of his body as he brushed past, flicking his wrist to also dry himself before slipping into a more formal black yukata much like the one he had been wearing earlier. But by the scent of sandalwood and musk wafting from the fabric, Hermione knew that his clothing was clean.

"Shall we drink to our arrangement, Granger?"

Hermione blinked as Malfoy moved through the doorway of the onsen and into the corridor, glancing back coolly, expecting her to follow him. She nodded slightly and kept a firm grasp on her wand. Together they walked through the darkened corridors, Hermione only two steps behind Malfoy, and when they reached the open door of her room, Hermione immediately noticed that a large bottle of sake was sitting in the middle of the sitting room table along with two saucers from which to drink. Malfoy moved into the room as if it had always been his own, and gracelessly sat down at the table. Hermione sighed as she slid the door shut behind her and stood with her back against the panel.

"Should we draw up a contract, or would a blood oath suit you?" Malfoy growled, his eyes flashing in the candlelight.

"Considering the gravity of what you want me to do, yes, I want a blood oath."

Malfoy snickered as he hastily poured himself some of the rice distilled liquor, swallowing it down with one gulp and rising to his feet again. "Well, come here, Granger, let us get this over with..."

Hermione hesitated, staring at Malfoy's outstretched hand. She had never seen or performed a Sanguis Votum in her lifetime, but she had read about it many times in many different forms. It seemed that her life at present was filled and circumference with wards, oaths and vows, and to add another seemed almost ironic. But if it meant that she would be protected from any violent fit of madness Malfoy decided to unleash, one more oath to this whole mess, she thought, would be worth it. She stepped forward, but did not take Malfoy's hand. Instead she stood before him, her wand still clutched at her side, waiting for the pale ghost of a man to make the first move.

"Give me your hand," Malfoy muttered, still reaching out to her and as Hermione placed her left hand in Malfoy's right she felt a sizzle of raw, unadulterated magic pass between them. "Place your wand tip atop my hand, since I have no need for a wand my own hand will have to do."

Hermione frowned slightly as Malfoy turned his wrist so that her hand was beneath his. Comparably his hand was much larger and by far more calloused, but as he grasped her small hand, wrapping his fingers about her slender wrist Hermione felt no reluctance at all to place the tip of her wand against the back of his palm. When the contact was made, Hermione winced as it seemed a circuit was closed and what ever substance that constituted quantifiable magic in their bodies seemed to circulate between them from their hands. Malfoy squeezed her hand and Hermione nearly jerked her hand away at a deep sting in her palm.

"A small cutting hex, Granger...we need blood for this, if you had forgotten," Malfoy drawled, rolling his eyes as he watched Hermione's own eyes widen as blood seemed to pool between their hands and drip from between their fingers. "I'll go first then, and don't you dare pass out from seeing blood, Granger."

"Just do it," Hermione growled, anxious to pull her hand away and break the circuit of magic flowing between them. The sensation was not unpleasant per se, but it was strange and uncomfortably foreign.

"I swear I will not harm Hermione Granger from the time forward. I swear I will compensate Hermione Granger monetarily for her services in escorting me back to Britain. I also swear on the best of my ability not to call her...Mudblood, as well as not being a prat to her or her friends and colleagues in her presence."

Hermione smirked. As far as she could see, Hermione could find no fault with Malfoy's oaths, and as he finished she felt him jerk involuntarily as if something had pinched him.

"Your turn, Granger," Malfoy ground out, apparently annoyed that his part of the oath seemed to be set firmly in his body.

"I...I swear to escort..." Hermione began, but stopped suddenly, her eyes meeting Malfoy's.

Malfoy grinned. "You have to say my name, Granger. I have made my oath not to harm you, now you must make yours..."

Damn, Hermione thought and bit her lower lip sharply. She knew that if she did not reciprocate and seal the agreement she would lose all guarantees to her safety, not to mention the fact that her binding magical contract which Severus underhandedly imposed would never prevent her to leave Japan without Malfoy. Hermione felt as if she had been entrapped and deceived, and as she took longer to contemplate what to do, Malfoy's grasp painfully tightened on her aching hand.

"Damnit, Granger, just do it already!" Malfoy growled impatiently.

Hermione grimaced, releasing her lip from her teeth. "I swear to escort D-Draco Malfoy safely to Britain as per his agreement not to harm me in any fashion. I also swear..." she trailed. This was the part she almost wanted to omit, but again Malfoy tightened his grasp painfully, causing more blood to drip from their hands and to the tatami mats under their bare feet. "I also swear that I will not leave Draco Malfoy's side until he is returned to his ancestral home and his inheritances."

She did not want to look at his face for she knew that it was twisted in a mad mask of triumph. The moment she had said his name she had felt sudden but brief flare of old magic. The wards and vows placed upon Draco Malfoy over eleven years before had been broken.

"Thus we swear and thus it will be, by heaven, earth, water and fire, this oath is here sealed with blood. So mote it be."

Hermione felt the ache in her hand lessen and finally disappear, the blood that had pooled in her hand and dripped from her palm and to the floor was gone and as Malfoy released her hand, Hermione saw only a thin red scar on her palm that tingled only slightly as she flexed her hand. Malfoy turned away from her, moving back to his bottle of sake and sat down.

"So mote it be," Hermione whispered, the internal swirling of magic beginning to wane and settle into her very soul. She was bound, this time by choice to a vow she knew would change her life. Hermione glanced over to Malfoy who had forgone the small sake saucers and was drinking the clear liquor from the large glass bottle. She wondered how Malfoy could be so...so...uncaring of the fact that they had just participated in a very serious, legally and magically binding oath and was now trying to drown himself in a sea of alcohol.

Hermione sighed like a disapproving school marm, but moved to sit at the table. Perhaps in Malfoy's quickly increasingly inebriated state she would be able to try and understand the man a bit better. It was useless trying to ignore him for she would have be around him indefinitely. It also was a bit of relief to know that he could no longer harm her as he had in the days previous, of which she still did not think she could forgive or excuse his behavior.

"Draco Malfoy...Draco Malfoy..." he muttered, holding the sake bottle in his right hand, balancing the heavy glass bottom on his clothed knee. "It has been a long time since I have been able to say my own name," he chuckled softly more to himself than to his present company. "Draco Severian Malfoy...Draco...Malfoy..."

Hermione tried not to laugh and ended up slapping a hand over her mouth.

"What'ssss so damn funny, Granger?" Malfoy slurred before taking another long drink from his sake bottle.

"N-nothing..." Hermione gasped.

"You sshink my name is funny? Eh?" Draco fumbled, slamming the sake bottle on the table top.

"Severian? Could your parents have made your name any more...more intimidating," Hermione whispered breathlessly. It was strange, it almost seemed inappropriate to laugh, truly laugh in front of Malfoy, but she could not help herself.

"I am a Malfoy, Granger, of course my name needs to be *hic* in-intimidating!" Malfoy struggled, his face flushing, his eyes becoming more and more like glass shards in his heavy lidded eyes. "It is better than your name by far...so plebeian it is and plain. Who would name their child 'Hermione' anyway? S-some cryptic allusion to being the daughter of the woman who was more beautiful than the gods? Don't tell me your mother's name is Helen?"

Hermione stifled her laughter, Malfoy's tone of voice was once again denigrating, despite being heavy and drunken. "What if it is, at least my parents put a little pride and thought into my name," she muttered under her breath.

Draco hissed and took up his bottle again and Hermione wondered how much more alcohol Malfoy was going to consume before he passed out. He had drunk quite a bit before her bath and now seemed determined to finish off an entire bottle if not more. Glancing at Hermione with the bottle raised to his lips, Malfoy sighed and sloppily poured a saucer full of sake for Hermione and inclined his head that she should drink.

"Drink, Granger," he said gruffly before taking another swig from the bottle.

"I do not drink sake," she said politely, staring at the clear liquid and the reflection of the candlelight off the surface with distaste.

Again Malfoy slammed his bottle on the table, muttering. "Self-righteous, self-important little bitch..."

Hermione frowned. Malfoy waved his hand and two bottles of wine popped to existence on the table top, and with another flick of the wrist the small galleon sized sake saucers shimmered and were transfigured into two crystal wine flutes. Despite being somewhat inebriated, Malfoy was able to magic the wine bottles to open and to magically pour into the wine flutes without spilling a drop, but as Hermione glanced at the man bound her by blood oath, she noticed that he was strictly concentrating on his task as compared to what was usually done with Charm work and transfiguration. Perhaps he was weaker by both the blood oath and the excess of alcohol he had partaken of, Hermione could not tell.

When the wine bottle was safely placed back on the table, Hermione sighed. The red blush of the wine looked too much like blood, but by the subtle fragrance she could tell that the wine was strong, and now Malfoy expected her to drink. To what ends, she wondered fearfully. Malfoy could harm her in other ways than by hexing her or physically attacking her, and Hermione knew that she would have to be ultra-aware of any underhanded Slytherin tactics from the blond man sitting to her left.

"Drink up, Granger. Often times, in the far past, the forging of oaths were symbolically sealed with libations to fidelity and trust...so let this be our toast to each other for settling upon an arrangement," Malfoy muttered, setting his bottle of sake aside and taking up one of the wine flutes, sniffing the wine under his patrician nose.

Hermione slowly reached for the wineglass before her, silently marveling at Malfoy's transfiguration skill and sniffing softly at the wine.

"A toast then...to oaths and agreements," Malfoy uttered softly, stretching out his hand to tap crystal with Hermione's glass. Hermione complied and as swiftly as they had toasted, Malfoy drank down his entire glass of wine in two gulps.

"In vino veritas," he whispered, wiping his wine stained mouth with the back of his hand and then moving to refill his glass. Hermione nodded and sipped, letting the slightly bitter wine fill her mouth and slip down her throat. The taste on the back of her tongue was pleasant, revealing that the wine of good vintage and was subtly sweet. Malfoy slowed his drinking as he watched Hermione begin to quickly drink her way through her first glass and grinned maniacally when she set her glass down only to have it filled again.

* * *

Perhaps an hour had passed, maybe more, but the tiny part of sobriety in Hermione's foggy mind told her she should not drink any more wine. This tiny voice also told her that she had been coerced into drinking by Draco Malfoy and nothing good could come of her not being able to think clearly. The louder, drunken internal voice told the sober voice of reason to "bugger off."

They had talked more in that hour than they had perhaps in all the years they had been at Hogwarts together. It took a while for Hermione to actually laugh out loud without fear of retribution, but now her sides hurt from laughing too much and she had spilled wine down the front of her robes. The second bottle was nearly empty, but two more had appeared out of thin air only moments ago. Hermione did not notice if Malfoy had conjured them or if they had just materialized out of sheer need for the situation.

Malfoy had asked her if Hermione's parents had made it through the War, which they had and were now thinking of retirement. He had also asked her who had gotten married, who had died, who was still influential in Wizarding Britain and even who the current Minister of Magic was, and it occurred to Hermione that Malfoy was being quite civil and honest with his questions for he had been away for so long. Currently they were talking about Quidditch and surprisingly Hermione felt as if she knew as much as any true fan after enduring years of Harry and Ron talking of teams and strategy.

"The Montrose Magpies lost to the Chudley Cannons?!? Merlin's beard, I almost want to cry and deny it..." Draco exclaimed, his face flushed, his eyes lazily rolling in his face as he leaned heavily against the table, his lips stained with wine.

"It was chaos for days, a few people were injured, and the Aurors had to Obliviate almost half of the east coast of Scotland after the match," Hermione chuckled, remembering that the Prophet's front page was all about the historic upset for weeks afterwards. That had been five years ago and since then the Cannons had swept the National Title only to lose in the first round of the trials for the World Cup.

"I cannot believe King Weasel was the Keeper who beat the Magpies...ugh."

Hermione rolled her eyes and nearly fell over onto the floor. Keeping herself upright by gripping the edge of the table, she chuckled and reached for her half empty glass and swallowed the last of the wine within. It was like a dream, talking with Draco Malfoy, laughing and actually enjoying his misery at the knowledge that his favorite Quidditch team had been beaten by century long underdogs.

"And I cannot believe you dated the git either. I suppose it was to be expected though. 'Weasley is our King...'" Draco began singing softly, letting his head drop to the table while reaching for an open bottle of wine.

"Don't start, you'll make me laugh so hard wine will spurt from my nose," Hermione warned, shoving the bottle into Malfoy's groping hand.

"You have to admit that it was a brilliant little ditty at the time," Draco drawled, sitting up abruptly, grasping the wine bottle to his chest like a cherished teddy bear.

Hermione snorted and poured herself another glass, emptying the second bottle. "Whatever... It was bloody annoying, and believe me, after the Gryffindors won, the lyrics changed and ever since, Ron sings it to himself after a victory. He's such a fat headed git," she muttered, spilling a bit of wine on the table.

Malfoy hummed in agreement and upended the bottle into his mouth, gulping the wine down like water. When he had his fill, he slammed the bottle down on the table and glared at Hermione, causing her to pause as she raised her glass to her lips. "You didn't marry him, obviously. You don't have ten little Weasels nipping at your heels...why not?"

Hermione lowered the glass from her lips and cleared her throat in mock professionalism. "I wasn't adventurous enough, dumb enough, lovestruck enough or awed by his Quidditch skill... And I was too close to him for something like that... He said I brought back too many bad memories and that he could not abide my constant correcting and criticism of his person."

At this Malfoy snickered and rolled his eyes. "Git."

"Quite so."

Then conversation fizzled out and the humor of the situation was gone. Hermione finished her glass, feeling very warm inside and out, and Malfoy took another long drink from his wine bottle. The air was still comfortable as they sat in drunken silence, apparently lost in their own thoughts. Hermione found that she could smile to herself thinking of the past, at least now after so many years.

"The end was bad, wasn't it?" Malfoy said in a whisper and Hermione knew he was referring to the War by the subtle tones of his voice.

"It could have been worse, I suppose. We could have been lost to the Snake Snogger's madness, and Britain could have been razed to the bedrock. But yes, it was bad."

Palpable tension filled the room and Hermione shuddered, the warmth of the wine in her system seeming to drain from her body as if a Dementor had appeared in the room. She lazily glanced at Malfoy who was sitting up stiffly, clutching the neck of the wine body with enough pressure to crack the thick green glass.

"I'm glad they're dead...all of them," he hissed, spittle flying from his lips. Either it was Hermione's foggy perception, or Malfoy was literally humming with anger, but the room seemed to darken and compress against them. "He ruined so many lives, my mother's, and mine."

It took a few moments for Hermione to ascertain that 'he' meant Lucius, and she nodded slightly, agreeing.

"I was only a boy...only a boy. I hope his soul never finds peace, I hope he is forever tormented, burning, pulled apart, starved, beaten..." Malfoy began mumbling to himself, but the intensity in his distant eyes was startling and almost frightening. Hermione tried to comfort herself by thinking that Malfoy could not hurt her, and a mantra began in her hazy mind that she was safe, the past was the past and it could not harm her. Malfoy upended the wine bottle again, chugging at the remainder of the wine and letting some run down his chin and under his yukata. When the bottle was empty he dropped it to his side and reached for the only bottle left with any of the red nectar inside. Hermione nearly protested as Malfoy began gulping down the wine as if he were dying of thirst for she had wanted at least one more glass for herself.

When Malfoy had his fill over half the bottle was empty. As he slammed it down on the table, rattling the other bottles and glasses, Hermione meekly pulled the bottle toward her and poured herself another glass. Sipping on the wine, Hermione sat comfortably in silence as Malfoy's anger ebbed out of his body as the effects of the wine entered his blood stream.

Hermione wanted to sleep soon, she had been tired before ever drinking, but now she felt as if she could drop off to sleep sitting up. Minutes passed as she sipped the last of her wine, clumsily setting her glass on the table. She was half tempted to fall backwards and slide her lower body under the warmth of the kotatsu and sleep for several years. Her eyes heavy and her body numbed with the wine, Hermione leaned forward against the table and nearly let her forehead rest on the tabletop.

"Granger..."

Hermione opened her eyes a bit wider and turned her face towards Malfoy. He seemed more awake than before, but Hermione smiled to herself realizing that she was drunker than she had ever been in many years...not since the first anniversary of Victory Day had she been so drunk. Malfoy's face was fuzzy to her eyes and he seemed to be smiling.

"Granger, say my name."

Hermione snorted on a laugh and pushed herself back to sit up again. She felt dizzy from the sudden movement and grasped the edge of the table for some sense of stability. "Why? I already said it once tonight."

"Just say it, Granger."

Hermione narrowed her eyes comically and moved slightly to stare at Malfoy's blurry face. "No."

Hermione squealed as Malfoy lunged at her, his hand reaching to take hold of her somewhere. Somehow she managed to jump up to her feet, stumbling as she did so and backed away from the table.

"Damnit, Granger, just do what I say!"

Hermione snickered and let the thought of finding her wand enter and suddenly disappear from her mind. Malfoy rose from the floor and stalked towards Hermione, his eyes seeming to glow from Hermione's inebriated perspective. Hermione turned to move, but Malfoy's hand snaked out and grabbed her left wrist, pulling her toward him. But as the momentum of the violent tug pulled Hermione, she stumbled and ended up falling, knocking Malfoy along with her. Together they fell to the floor painfully. Hermione's forehead banged into Malfoy's chin as she landed atop him and she groaned, rubbing her skin. Hermione tried to rise up up, to get of the man whose wind had been knocked out of his lungs.

Hermione began laughing, "I'm sorry...I..."

Malfoy's hand shot toward Hermione's head, grasping her by the hair and wrenching her off his body and into the floor. Hermione choked as suddenly Malfoy pinned her to the floor, sitting atop her belly and using his knees to pin her arms to the floor. The weight of Malfoy's knees upon Hermione's thin arms almost made her want to cry out in pain, even drunk and partially numb, the pain was poignant.

"Say it, Granger and I'll let you up."

Hermione grit her teeth, struggling as much as she could to get free, but the hold on her hair tightened and she squealed in stinging pain. She wondered if the oath had taken hold, if it would somehow save her from this discomfort and Malfoy's weigh upon her body. What was the magical definition of 'harm,' anyway?

"Let me go, you...you bastard!" Hermione screamed, her legs thrashing uselessly as she bucked her body to try and dislodge Malfoy.

"Stubborn bitch," Malfoy snarled, pulling on Hermione's hair roughly.

"Bastard! Son of a bitch!" Hermione screamed nearly incoherently, her angry words streaming in a constant slur from her mouth. But more insults she screamed, the more amused Malfoy seemed to become. Hermione was too far gone in mind due more in part to the wine she had consumed than her anger, she did not think to try and summon her wand or attempt anything magical to remove Malfoy...and for once out of a handful of times, her sharp wit failed her.

"...git...fag...fucking momma's boy!" she screamed. Malfoy released her hair only to grasp her face, his palm covering her mouth as his finger curved around her jaw. Hermione tried to bite his hand but found that the strength he applied to her face only made it too painful to try and move her jaw.

"You could have just said my name, Granger, voluntarily. But now I'm going to make you scream my name so loud it will wake the dead."

Hermione froze, Malfoy's face only an inch from hers, his clear eyes boring into hers, consuming her vision. She had exhausted herself with her struggle at this point and could barely breathe properly from screaming, and it was even difficult to breath with Malfoy's large hand over the lower half of her face.

Malfoy sat up slightly and muttered a strange incantation and Hermione whimpered under Malfoy's palm as her arms were wrenched from under his sharp boned knees and over her head. Another incantation and Hermione felt something cold and metallic wrap about her wrists, like tight metal bracelets. Could Hermione have looked, she would have found that indeed two silver bracelets appeared on her wrists, wrapped tightly about her skin, almost cutting into the flesh.

"I'll make you scream, Granger..." Malfoy whispered maliciously as he stood up gracefully over her, removing his hand from her mouth. She dare not speak, she felt close to vomiting and her heart pounded a violent tattoo against her ribcage as she struggled to catch her breath. And as Malfoy moved over her, picking her up with his one arm so that she landed on her feet, Hermione swayed on the spot, the bracelets magnetically knocking together as a fetter so that her hands were bound before her. "...and you'll say my name as it should be said."

Malfoy pushed her toward the bedroom and she fell face first into the soft futon, crying out as her knees scrapped against the matted floor. She rolled onto her side, trying to pull the bracelets apart like an animal trying to pull its paw from a trap. All the candles but one flickered out and Hermione glanced back to see Malfoy stalking towards her, slipping his yukata from his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. The singular candle back lit Malfoy, making his silvery blond hair seem like a twisted nimbus around his shoulders and head.

"No..." Hermione gasped, trying to move her body away, to escape Malfoy somehow.

"I swore I would not harm you, Granger, and believe me, I will not..."

Hermione shut her eyes, ready to say his name just to stop this madness. But as she opened her mouth to speak, she instead gasped as another incantation form Malfoy divested her of her own clothing. She rolled onto her stomach, tears of fear beginning to fill her eyes. She did not want to see him, see his body, see his arousal. There was little choice, however as Malfoy rolled her onto her back and scooted her body so that she lay correctly on the futon. One last incantation and Hermione's arms were violently pulled above her head, the bracelets seemingly the mechanism affected by Malfoy's wandless magic. When Malfoy's bare skin met Hermione's she tried to kick at him, but he rolled atop her, his sharp hip bones, digging into hers, and that was when she felt his hot, hard arousal settle in the cleft of her thighs.

Eyes snapping open, Hermione saw that Malfoy was leaning over her, his right hand braced next to the left side of her head. With his knees, Malfoy forced her thighs apart and knelt upon the futon.

"I will make this easy for you, Granger. I can create my own pleasure with your body, or it can be mutual."

"Release me," Hermione whimpered as Malfoy twisted his hips slightly so that the head of his cock pressed against her sensitive clitoris. Hermione could not think of when she had become aroused or even why, but as Malfoy twisted his hips again so that his turgid flesh rubbed against her, it did not seem to matter.

"You said that to me not so long ago, Granger, and even then you were wet...you're wet now. Your body betrays you," Malfoy whispered, his breath teasing Hermione's cheeks.

Hermione bit her lip. It was true. And idly she wondered if she had subconsciously wanted this to happen. She could not deny that Malfoy was handsome, even beautiful though he was maimed. She could not deny that the alcohol had made her susceptible to any sort of charm she felt from Malfoy only moments before. But as she looked into his eyes, she realized that the alcohol had not affected him as much as it did her and the earlier feeling of entrapment had been an accurate assessment.

Hermione whimpered as Malfoy leaned back on his knees and taking his cock in hand to rub it up and down Hermione's soaking slit. She knew that this was terribly wrong...sleeping with the enemy. But was Malfoy really the enemy or had she never gotten past the fact that he had been such an irritating figure of her childhood?

"You hate me...Draco... Why?" Hermione cried, forcing out the tears in her eyes by closing her heavy lids.

"Is there such a clear line between love and hate, Granger. And wonderful tactic, saying my name at the last moment, but it is far too late for that now," Malfoy said breathlessly, dipping the head of his cock into Hermione's quivering passage.

Hermione slowly opened her eyes, trying not to let her hips to move to push Malfoy deeper into her body. "You...you love me then?"

"No. I just want to possess you for the time being. I'll tire of you before long, and then you'll be free."

Hermione's body shuddered as her vaginal muscles clamped down on the mere inch of flesh Malfoy had pushed inside. He leaned forward then, still only just inside her body, his eyes gazing down at her face, expressionless. Leaning down he captured her lips and Hermione moaned, unable to push him away, but shivering as the light hairs of his chest moved against her pert nipples. The kiss was experimental, and strangely sweet compared to the roughness Malfoy had exhibited beforehand.

Lying fully against her, Malfoy let his hand run down her side before grasping her left breast, the girth of which could not quite fill his large hand. Hermione groaned as Malfoy moved his lips to her jaw and then to her throat. She strained at her bonds as Malfoy curved his back so that his mouth, tongue and teeth traveled down her collar bone and to her breast. When his mouth covered her nipple, Hermione gasped as Malfoy nipped at the sensitive flesh of her hardened peak. Tongue encircling and teeth nipping, Hermione unconsciously moved her hips, forcing Malfoy further inside.

"Oh?" Malfoy asked in a hum, rising above Hermione again, his hand braced against the futon. "So you'll play this game?"

Hermione said nothing, not trusting her voice to convey anything more than her desire. She panted between slightly parted lips and closed her eyes as he knelt down to meet her lips again and as the delicate kisses became deeper until their tongues joined the dance, Malfoy thrust inside. Hermione arched off the futon at the sudden intrusion and Malfoy cursed, his body stiffening as Hermione's body seemed to clamp down and pull his cock deeper inside.

And thus the unlikely dance began in earnest.
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Out of the Silent Planet