22. Hanging By Threads of Palest Silver

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter, or any of that.

Note: Song title taken from lyrics in the song "A Stroke of Luck" by Garbage. And thank you to eilonwy for being an amazing beta. Seriously.

ooo

Chapter 22 – Hanging by Threads of Palest Silver

Hermione continued at St. Mungo's for another two weeks. David was very kind, and by the end, she was helping him diagnose serious conditions and working with him and other Healers to determine the best course of treatment. It was rewarding, but she was anxious to be done. She still had her task to complete for Draco, and she was exhausted every night when she returned to the Edge.

On her last day, David took her out of the hospital for lunch, refusing to hear her protests. He took her to the most expensive place in Diagon Alley and insisted she get whatever she wanted, including dessert. Hermione felt strange, since she'd told him once that she wasn't interested in a relationship, but all through the meal he was strictly professional and wished her the best of luck in her career choice and let her go home early.

When she got to the Edge, she was surprised to find Harry and Draco back early from their most recent mission. They were at the kitchen table, devouring what must have been all the leftovers in the house. She noticed they looked very worn-out.

"Hey," she said, sitting down with them.

"You're home early," said Harry with a mouth full of potatoes.

She smiled. "Yup. And I'm done at St. Mungo's. I cannot tell you how thankful I am."

"Really?" Harry asked. "I thought you liked it."

"I did, but it's tiring, and it's not what I really want to do anyway. I'm thinking of taking a day off just to relax." She sighed.

"Oh, Granger," said Draco, reaching into his robes and pulling out a slip of parchment. "Would you mind picking up a few things in Diagon Alley? Mostly potions ingredients, but a few other things as well."

She took the slip from him. "No, not at all. And I think I'll stay at my flat tonight. I haven't been there in months, and there are a few things I'd like to pick up. I'll be back first thing tomorrow."

Draco frowned. "Your flat? Is it safe?"

"Of course it is," she said irritably. "And it's just one night."

"Well… I suppose it's all right," said Draco.

Hermione looked at him incredulously. "You don't get it, do you? I'm not asking your permission!"

He regarded her coolly. "I realize that, but I can also make sure you can't go, if I choose."

"Is that so?" she asked, her cheeks reddening from anger.

"Hey, hey," said Harry. "Hermione, Draco. We just got back and I've got a raging headache. Please don't yell at each other right now. Draco, Hermione will be fine. Hermione, he's just trying to make sure you stay safe."

Draco reddened then too, and refused to look at either Harry or Hermione.

"Fine," said Hermione. "I'm going to get a few things together, and then I'm leaving."

Draco still wasn't happy about Hermione being gone for the entire night, and he complained to Harry once she'd gone. "Harry, how could you just let her go? How am I supposed to keep my promise when I can't leave this place or be seen anywhere?"

"Hermione's a big girl, Draco. She'll be fine. Plus, she's an Auror.

"She's not untouchable," he protested.

"Malfoy, please. It's one night. What's going to happen?"

ooo

Hermione went directly to Diagon Alley and purchased the items Draco had requested. The tab at the Apothecary was astonishingly high, and she wondered at just what he'd ordered. Then she went to Eyelops Owl Emporium and bought treats for their owls.

When she returned to her flat, it was cold and dark and a little creepy. A thick layer of dust had settled on everything. Hermione was very tired, though, and immediately started collecting a few personal items: a frame with a picture of her, Ron and Harry; her favorite pair of pajama pants; a few books she'd been missing; her best bottle of lotion. Then she went to bed, not even bothering to change into pajamas.

In the small hours of the morning, something woke her from a sound sleep. Her eyes flew open, her heart instantly racing. She grabbed her wand from the nightstand, and lay in bed listening, not wanting to let the intruder to know she was awake. Finally, she heard her door open.

It sounded like a single person entered the room, and she was afraid the person would hear her heart beating through her chest. The person came near to her bed and sat down. She moved to hit him, either with her hand or a spell, but he grabbed her wrist and flung her back on the bed.

"Filthy Mudblood," same a distantly familiar voice. Lucius Malfoy removed his Death Eater mask and her eyes widened in horror when she saw him. He smirked, the master of the expression, and cast a silencing and a binding charm on Hermione. Her mind was spinning; how?

He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Don't worry, you piece of filth. I'm not going to kill you – not tonight, anyway." He took her face in his hand and traced the outline of her chin with a gloved finger, almost lovingly. "Honestly," said Lucius with disdain, "I can't see what he sees in you." Then he hit her, first with his fist, then with the full force of his wand.

ooo

Draco sat straight up in bed, heart racing, and drenched in sweat. He threw on a shirt, grabbed his cloak and wand and went to Harry's door, pounding on it to wake him.

"Harry, get up now. Hermione's in trouble." Harry joined him in less than a minute.

"Where is she?" he asked, running down the stairs after Draco.

"Her flat," he said. They Disapparated, but instead of arriving in her living room, as they'd intended, they found themselves about fifteen blocks from Hermione's place.

"Bugger," said Draco swore and took off running when he got his bearings.

"What?" Harry panted, trying to keep up with him.

"It's a Death Eater. Come on."

"How do you know?" asked Harry.

"I just do." He tore away from Harry, who had trouble keeping up with him. They arrived at Hermione's building in minutes. Draco knew the code to get in and punched it furiously. He ran up four flights of stairs, not even getting short of breath.

He opened Hermione's door as if he'd done it a thousand times and after a quick survey of the outer rooms, ran into her bedroom.

Hermione was tied up on her bed with duct tape over her mouth, and Harry thought it was odd that the assailant would use duct tape. But he didn't linger on it long. She had blood on her face, and she didn't look up at them when the door opened.

Draco ran to her side and untied her hands. "Granger," he said, his voice and hands shaking. "Wake up."

She slowly opened her eyes. When she saw Draco, they widened and she started squirming, trying to speak. He held the edge of the tape and she became still.

"I'm sorry," he said, then ripped it off.

She cried out briefly and whispered, "We have to leave. Now." She tried to stand, but faltered. Draco steadied her.

"What? Why?" asked Harry.

"Where's your wand?" Draco asked her.

"I – I'm not sure. But please, trust me; we have to go now."

"Not without your wand," protested Draco.

"Accio Hermione's wand," said Harry, and both Draco and Hermione watched as her wand flew out from under a dresser and into his hand. He tossed it to her and she caught it.

They tried to Disapparate, but found themselves unable. "He's put a ward up," said Hermione, starting for the door.

"Who?" said Harry, as Draco led them to the door.

Just as Draco put his hand on the doorknob, someone else threw open the door. Harry, Draco and Hermione stopped dead in their tracks.

Lucius Malfoy entered the room and disarmed all three of them at once. He looked at Hermione with a leer, then Harry, then Draco.

"Hello, son," he sneered. "Well, well, well. I must say, I was quite surprised that someone showed up so quickly." He looked at Draco when he said this. "I expected Potter, but Draco, I am surprised to see you here. You disgust me," he said, spitting hatred with his tone.

"I knew the Dark Lord didn't question your absence, so neither did I. But to find you've stooped so low. I can only trust that your current mission is highly important, since it involved Potter here." He looked at Hermione and sneered. "I just can't believe you would volunteer for such a dirty job." He looked back to Draco. "But then, you are his favorite, so he must give you first pick of assignments." He said the word 'favorite' with such venom that Hermione flinched slightly. "Though why you would choose one involving that – thing – is beyond me. It must be an extremely gratifying task."

The entire time Draco merely watched his father, refusing to display any emotion whatsoever. When he spoke, it was clear and edged with ice. "Who are you to question to Dark Lord's judgment?" Despite the calmness with which Draco spoke, he was angry beyond anything he'd ever felt before.

Lucius smirked. "It is certainly not my place to question him – but you are a different matter." Lucius waved his wand and Harry and Hermione were flung against the wall and magically held there. "Come, son, we have much to discuss."

"My wand. Now," said Draco through gritted teeth.

Lucius glared at him, but obliged. Hermione fought back tears as she watched Lucius and Draco leave her room.

"Harry," she whispered, once the door had shut behind the pair.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. Are you?"

She only nodded. "Did you – did you know? At all? Did you suspect?"

"Hermione, it can't be what you're thinking. There must be some explanation for what just happened. I trust him, remember?"

Hermione looked at him, fear still etched in her eyes. "Really?"

"With my life," he said firmly.

ooo

Draco shut the door to Hermione's room. He had to take control of the situation and fast. "What are you doing here, Father?"

Lucius regarded his son coolly. "The Dark Lord wanted a message sent to Potter, and since he is supposed to be somewhere in the Far East," Lucius gave Draco a full look of suspicion. "The best way to do that was to go for the girl."

"How did you get in?" Draco asked.

Lucius smirked. "I simply Apparated. I thought she was supposed to be smart."

Draco mentally cursed himself for not demanding to know more about Hermione's defenses at her flat. "And how did you know she was here?"

"I set up a ward so that whenever she returned, I would be alerted. That was months ago, though." Lucius ran a finger over the top of one of Hermione's bookshelves and looked at it in disgust. "I'd given up thinking she'd ever return. She must have somewhere she prefers to stay. Or someone she prefers to stay with."

Draco stared at his father, unsure of what he was trying to imply. "What's the message for Potter?"

"Why are you here and not in East Asia as the Dark Lord believes? Or is that privileged information?" Lucius said with a sneer.

"It's certainly none of your concern."

"The Dark Lord trusts you, why I do not know. It seems to me that your actions tell a different story then the one you proclaim. Most importantly, that Potter is supposed to be halfway around the world, and you are supposed to be chasing him. And a so-called traitor."

Draco swallowed hard, unhappy to hear that his master had revealed his supposed plans to anyone, much less his father. "If my Master doubts me, he will correct the error – either by killing me or becoming sure of my loyalties, though he has no need to doubt me at all. It is not your place to question."

Lucius smirked broadly. "Oh, you think so? Have you not heard? The Dark Lord has a new favorite. You've been gone far too long, doing far too little, and one of his most faithful has been elevated."

"At least I can be assured that it is not you," Draco sneered.

Lucius snarled and grabbed Draco by the collar and shook him. "Do you question the Dark Lord? Do you claim to know better than he, that you would make such a bold assumption?"

Draco ripped his father's hand away and stood to his full height. "If my Master has selected you to replace me, then I know he has lost his mind."

Lucius gasped and his eyes widened. "How – dare – you!?"

"He has told me on more than one occasion, Father, that he would never give you certain authorities. And as for me not doing enough for him, we shall see what your story is when I bring him Potter. I have to gain Potter's trust before I can act; I have to make him think I've changed. When I deliver him, it will be a monumental betrayal, and I will forever be remembered by the Dark Lord – and the world – for what I've done. Just what have you to show? Nothing," he spat, glaring at his father.

Lucius glared back, seething. "At least I am here where he needs me."

"What is the message for Potter? And why her and not Weasley?" Draco demanded. He needed more information about this latest musing of the Dark Lord.

"Weasley," Lucius spat, "is essentially useless. The Dark Lord always keeps an eye on the Mudblood and Weasley. The Mudblood is much more interesting; Weasley stays at home. Our Master believes that he is no longer involved with Potter's plans."

"But she is?" Draco blanched at the thought that the Dark Lord had someone watching Hermione. They couldn't be watching too closely, or he would have seen him. But still; if they knew where she lived, then they knew where she worked.

"The message is for Potter, not you. Once we're finished here, I'll deliver it. Don't concern yourself with it." Draco knew that his father's intention was to belittle him and indicate that he had a job Draco wasn't privy to.

"I did give her a few… other messages, should you desire an excuse to exercise your skills of persuasion. And son, I do not mean in a painful way."

The very thought made Draco's blood boil. "And how would you know, Father? I thought people like her were off limits. That's what I've always been told, anyway."

"Mudbloods have their uses," he replied slyly. "It is good to know what they are, and to utilize them as needed."

Draco could barely think. He would kill his father with his bare hands if he'd touched Hermione.

Lucius laughed, a cold, calculating laugh. "You cannot be serious, son! Angry over that Mudblood? What's got in to you? Surely you haven't been getting friendly with her to convince Potter. That is not something to be done with them. They are for using. Don't worry; I saved her for you though. Well, most of her. I must admit, I never imagined I'd meet you here." Lucius moved toward the door. "I'll let our Lord know I saw you, and that you're doing your – job – well."

"Expelliarmus!" shouted Draco, catching Lucius off guard. His wand flew out of his hand and he was flung across the room. Draco ran to where his father had fallen and grabbed the front of his robes. "Never, ever, call her that again, do I make myself clear?" said Draco hissed through clenched teeth, and dropped him, backing away, wand trained on his chest.

Lucius slowly stood and faced his son. "Draco," he said calmly, stepping closer to him, an evil glint in his eyes. Very quietly, he said, "She tastes delicious. Sweet, and innocent." He moved closer. "You really should try for yourself. Only, I won't have any little halfbloods running around, I cannot have that. I am, after all, still your father."

Draco saw red. He wanted to kill his father – he'd kill anyone that hurt Hermione. He brought his wand to point directly at Lucius' heart. But he couldn't say the words.

Lucius laughed, a laugh full of hatred. "Going soft, son? What's the matter? Has the Mudblood turned you into a soft, weak, Muggle-lover?"

Draco's hand shook with rage, but as he glared at his father over the point of his wand, he thought about Hermione's letter. She'd said she hoped he wouldn't kill again. He knew he was at a cross-roads – kill and be done with a man he'd loathed for years, a man who'd hurt Hermione – or let him go. No, he couldn't just let him go. But he knew he didn't want to kill again. He breathed a sigh of relief as he realized this.

"Come on! What are you waiting for?" urged Lucius, an arrogant and crazy glint in his eye.

"Stupefy!" said Draco. His father fell onto the floor unconscious.

Draco instantly left him and went to help Harry and Hermione. He released them from the spell Lucius had cast, and went to heal Hermione's wounds. But she flinched under his touch, and then he looked at her. The look he saw on her face was too familiar. He'd seen it many times on people's faces – fear. Some little part of his heart, the part that was starting to heal, to see the beauty of the world, broke.

He dropped his arm. "Don't look at me like that Hermione," he said, turning away from her. Hermione saw hurt in Draco's eyes before he put up a wall to hide from them.

"What did you expect, Draco?" asked Harry. Then he mouthed, "She doesn't know," over Hermione's head.

Draco didn't respond to Harry and looked at Hermione. Then he took a deep breath and went back to the door. "You are free to leave anytime you want. I apologize for my Father. I have to deal with him." Then he left the room and shut the door behind him.

His first emotion was stark emptiness. He never realized how much he'd come to assume that Hermione trusted him, that no matter what, she would believe in him, just as he would protect her and take care of her, no matter what. He laughed bitterly. He'd managed to fool himself into thinking he'd ever held her trust. Draco looked at his father's slumped body and felt utter despair. His mind was spinning with ideas as to what he should do next, and about what would become of their efforts. One thing he knew for certain: he could never – would never – go back to his former life. And he would have to start over with trying to be free of it. He sighed heavily and mentally steeled himself for the road ahead – alone.

ooo

Harry looked significantly at Hermione. "If he was working for Voldemort, he wouldn't have just let us go."

"No, you're right, he wouldn't. But he didn't even try to defend himself, or stick up for himself."

"He must have thought you wouldn't listen; he didn't seem too concerned with my opinion," Harry said pointedly.

"I'm sure I would have, Harry; right? After all we've been through together?" She frowned, rubbing her wrists where she'd been bound, then shook her head sadly. "Only the awful thing is, I can't say for sure." She couldn't be certain she'd have given him the chance to talk, much less explain himself.

ooo

Draco took his father home, to the house he'd grown up in, taking him to his study and Obliviating his memory of seeing his son. Then he sat staring at the man who'd poisoned him his entire life with hate and darkness. The desire to kill rose in him again, and this time it was easier to push away since he'd already resisted the urge once. He hoped it would continue to get easier.

He sat down on the couch and fought back tears. Hermione didn't trust him, even through everything. She'd believed his father. She'd believed his weak attempt to deny that his son would betray him. The man was off-center. He'd rather make up a story to prevent anyone – even himself – from seeing that Draco had betrayed the Dark Lord. But she had believed it. And why did it hurt so much? He would never betray them, especially Hermione. Didn't she know that? Draco banged his head against the wall. He sat in his father's study, dreading returning to the Edge. What if he ran into her? Finally, he decided he had to leave or risk being seen by his mother. He put a timed spell on his father to wake him, then left through the window, Disapparating as soon as he was beyond the border of the Anti-Apparation field around his house.

The house was dark. Draco went straight to his room and threw his things in a bag. He scoffed bitterly – his whole life now fit into a rucksack. But he couldn't leave; he had nowhere to go. He sat down hard on his bed and put his head in his hands. He had to think, to get out quick. He would go back to the Grangers. He would stay there for a while, and figure out a new plan. But what about Hermione? Lucius had been sent to her, and if he left, she would be open to attack. He couldn't protect her from so far away. Should he just tell her? And then go? Maybe, but that didn't solve the protection issue. He didn't know what his father had done to her – he shuddered at the thought – and made the decision not to abandon her, no matter what. He would just return to watching her from the shadows.

Somewhere through the rush of thoughts and fears, Draco heard a small knock on his door. He quickly pulled out his wand.

"Malfoy? It's me. Let me in," came Hermione's voice.

Draco's racing heart started to cool in his chest. He didn't want to talk to her, didn't want to hear her tell him she was sorry, but that's life after all, he'd get over it, and have a nice life. He knew she wouldn't mean it, and was only stopping by because he'd been there. Maybe she thought she at least owed him an insincere goodbye.

But part of him, the part that had grudgingly turned over to the Light and the part of him that honestly cared about her more than anything else, wanted to know she was okay. And that part, wounded though it was now, was stronger than the black part. Without a word, he opened the door. She stood in the doorway, looking perfectly fine. The blood and bruises had been magicked away, and it looked like she'd had a bath.

"Malfoy, I'm really sorry. I – "

He cut her off, because he knew what she was going to say, and it was the last thing he wanted to hear. That she was leaving. "Yeah, yeah. You're sorry. Lovely. I get it. We never change," he said nastily.

She blinked at him, surprised by his outburst. "What?"

"Aren't you here to say you're leaving?" he asked bitingly.

"No, actually, I'm not," she said, and it sounded like she was a little angry. "If you would just shut up for half a second and let me finish."

Oh. Well. Huh. He didn't say anything, just looked up at her.

"I'm sorry I didn't trust you right away. It just seemed too likely a scenario, you must see that. Once Harry and I talked about it, I saw that I was wrong."

There she went again, proving him wrong, showing him how strong she really was. And he felt bad. And relieved, so very relieved.

"Anyway, I'm not leaving." She turned to leave.

"Granger, wait," he called kindly. Hermione turned around, arms crossed. "Are you okay?" he asked. He saw her shift between her feet, then saw tears well up in her eyes. "Come here."

She hesitated to actually enter his room.

"Please." He motioned next to his bed and conjured a chair for her to sit on. She did, still hesitant. "What did he do to you?" he asked quietly, though a fresh wave of anger coursed through him.

She looked at her hands in her lap and shook her head.

"Hermione, please." It almost sounded like he was pleading, but he didn't care. In a way, he was.

It must have sounded like something true to her, because she answered. "H-he hit me."

"What else?" he asked.

"Called me awful names. He used the Cruciatus."

Draco closed his eyes, trying to calm his anger.

"Anything else?" She stared at her hands. "Hermione?"

"N-no. Not – that, if that's what you're thinking." Draco exhaled fully, not aware he'd been holding his breath. "But he told me all the things he would do, if I weren't such a disgusting apparition. He was very thorough, and descriptive." She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.

Draco's vision went red once again. He was actually glad his father wasn't there; he wasn't sure if he could keep himself from ripping his insides out this time. He summoned a blanket from his dresser and wrapped it around her shoulders, rubbing her arms to warm her.

"Is that all?" he choked out. She nodded, letting a few tears escape her lashes. Draco took her in his arms and held her while she cried. He rubbed her back, ran his hands through her hair, and told her it would be okay, that Lucius was gone and couldn't hurt her again.

When he said that, he felt Hermione stiffen and she pulled away from him.

"Wh-what do you mean?" she asked, a horrified look on her face.

He frowned. "He won't hurt you again," he said, confusion filling his voice.

"Why?" She kept backing away from him, and he didn't want her to leave him.

"Because I won't let him. I don't want you to leave this house ever again. I – " he didn't get to finish saying that he would never let her get hurt again, that he would always be there to protect her and keep her safe, because she flung her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely, cutting off his words.

Draco was confused, but cautiously returned the hug.

When she pulled back, she was smiling through her tears.

"What?" he asked.

"You didn't kill him?"

"No."

"Oh, Draco, I'm so glad."

He shook his head, the answer both clearing his confusion and making it foggier all at once. "Why? He hurt you. He might have – " he stopped himself; he refused to let himself think of what his father was all too capable of.

"Because. It means you made the right choice."

"I promised you I wouldn't."

She frowned, obviously trying to remember such a promise. He continued. "On Christmas. After I got your – letter. I promised you I would never kill again. And I didn't even hurt my father, I couldn't." Hermione beamed at him like he'd just received top marks on his N.E.W.T.s. "He called me soft," he muttered, scowling.

"You're anything but soft, Draco, trust me. He just wanted to get to you. Don't let him."

Draco didn't think about what he did next, he just did it. His hand acted of its own accord as it reached up to her face, his fingers taking on their own life as they gently wiped her tears away, a lone, traitorous finger lingering on her cheek.

Hermione felt something strong when he touched her, and she was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the usual surge between them. This feeling came from somewhere else altogether.

Her face was inches from his. He could smell her hair, freshly washed; it smelled like the flowers in her parents' garden. He could see the flecks of gold in her eyes. Every fiber of his being told him, shouted, screamed at him, to kiss her, and for a second he almost leaned closer to her. But he saw confusion in her eyes. Of course. She wouldn't want to kiss him, it was ridiculous for him to even think it. There was a small part of her than no longer found him repulsive, and he had almost ruined that.

His mind had kicked back in just in time to prevent him from doing something as monumentally stupid as kissing her. He removed his hand from her face, and pulled away reluctantly, tearing his gaze from hers.

Draco looked at his hands, now resting in his lap. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you."

Hermione was trying to force her heart to stop beating so hard. She'd nearly exploded from the intimate nature of their contact, and she could swear he'd wanted to kiss her. What had stopped him? Had she even wanted him to stop?

"Why?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't give her away.

"It's my fault. You shouldn't have been in danger. And I meant what I said. I don't want you to leave this house again."

Hermione was glad they had returned to familiar ground. She could get angry at his words, and that's what she did. Because it was familiar, and she knew how to respond. "Malfoy, this over-protection thing is getting ridiculous. I can take care of myself."

"Obviously not," he said, angrily. Anger was easy. And it was easy to let himself get angry at her. They were both so skilled at fighting.

She stood up from the bed and took the chair again, folding her arms in annoyance. "Yes, I can."

"Then how was Lucius able to get into your flat in the middle of the night?"

"I don't know," she snapped. "I had the usual security precautions in place, plus the ones Harry put on it. I even set it up so only you and Harry and I could Apparate in and out."

"How? What did you use?"

"Hair."

"Anything else?" She shook her head. "Well, apparently, my father got through. You should've used at least two items for the selective Apparation charm, probably three."

"Don't scold me, Malfoy. I get it."

"You're to stay here."

"Not a chance."

Draco's eyes flashed dangerously, but she set her jaw and glared at him. "This is my house," he said, teeth clenched. "We go by my rules."

"I never signed up for that. I have my task to do for you! How can I possibly do that when I'm stuck here?" He had nothing to say to that, so he just narrowed his eyes. "I can Apparate directly into the Ministry and back. And my work."

"No. And you'll quit the job."

Hermione was really angry now. "I will NOT quit my job. It's the only thing that keeps me sane. Who do you think you are, anyway?"

Draco stood up, trying to intimidate her. "This is my plan, my life. I won't have you ruin everything I've worked for by getting yourself hurt or killed."

She stood up too, and since she wasn't as tall as he was, looked up into his swirling grey eyes. "And what about my life? Am I just supposed to give that up for you?"

The way she said 'you' struck Draco and he realized that there was no way she would have let him kiss her, no way she would have entertained the thought, no way she would want him in her life once all this was over. It was abundantly clear that part of her still hated him. Fine. Let her. He still refused to give her the power to ruin his life.

He tapped her head with his finger twice. "Knock, knock, Granger. It's your life I'm thinking about here." She just continued to glare at him. He sighed and backed away. "You may continue going to the Ministry, but the job has to go. Take Weasley with you to quit." She looked about to protest, but he said, "It's final, Granger," in a voice that said yes, actually, it was, and there would be no further discussion. Then he sat down on the bed, picked up a book and pretended to read it.

"Fine," she said angrily. "You can be such an amazing jerk, Malfoy." She stomped out of his room and slammed his door shut.

Draco put the book down and ran a hand through his hair. He had angered her, as he had wanted. But his heart was still thumping at the thought of kissing her, no matter how much he tried to ignore it.

It was better that way. He knew how to be distant with her, how to push her away, and fight with her. But he had no idea how to let her in, or if he even wanted to. There was a part of him that screamed to be seen, to be acknowledged. Hermione had been right, he was lonely. But he refused to allow her to get close to him because he knew he could only end up hurting her – it was all he knew. It would be inevitable. He didn't know how to love, and she deserved to be made full from love, to be completely and eternally adored. And he didn't think he had that in him.

ooo

Hermione found Harry in the drawing room. "Urrgh!" she screamed, plopping down in a chair.

Harry looked at her. "Okay, Hermione?"

"No. That – that arrogant, rude, selfish, obnoxious pig!"

Harry smiled, amused. "What did he do now?"

"He had the nerve to tell me I wasn't allowed to leave the house."

Harry cringed at just the thought of trying to tell Hermione she wasn't allowed to do something. But Draco was still alive, so maybe it was possible after all. "Why?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Because of what happened, I suppose. Seems to think I can't take care of myself." She paused, scowling even more. "Says I have to quit my job, too. I swear, he thinks he's so important, that he can just order me around like a child. Feeds his ego."

"Hermione, you're going to hate hearing this, but I agree with him." She looked at him, surprised. "Your safety is highly important to me, "Hermione."

"My safety," she scoffed. "That's not it at all. He just needs to feel power over someone, since he doesn't have his fellow Death Eater buddies to order around anymore."

Harry sighed, apprehensive about saying what he wanted to say. Oh well, he decided, she needed to hear it. "Hermione, I know you're upset, and Malfoy probably didn't do anything to make it better, probably egged you on. But did it ever occur to you that he'd doing this because he cares about you?"

Hermione was speechless. Malfoy? Care? About her? She knew he was protective, and he checked up on her a lot, but to actually care about her? She was about to say she didn't think Malfoy capable of such things when she remembered the couple from New Zealand. He'd obviously cared about them. And there was always that little bird whispering in her ear that he was a completely different person.

A small, "No," was all she managed. She sat in silence, thinking about what had transpired upstairs. He had almost kissed her, she was now sure of it. But why would he do that? Was it possible he cared that much for her? Surely not. It was just the moment that must have confused him. And her. He was comforting her, and she was glad that he hadn't killed his father. And she told herself this over and over, but it didn't clear everything. There was the fact that her heart was still racing at the thought of how close he'd been. At the thought that he might have kissed her. And slowly, she admitted to herself that a part of her had wanted him to kiss her. That wasn't good.

"Harry?" she said after about ten minutes of silent berating. "Can I ask you something?"

He put his papers down and gave her his full attention. "Sure."

"Is it completely sick to have feelings for the man who killed your parents?"

Harry just barely kept himself from grinning like a nutter. Instead, he frowned. "You have feelings for Malfoy? The guy you just called an obnoxious pig?"

Hermione stood and started pacing. "I don't know!" she said, frustrated.

"Tell me what brought this on," said Harry.

"Well, just now. He-he touched me, and it wasn't like all the other times. I mean, I felt the energy surge, but that only happens at the point of contact. I felt – you know. Like you feel when you're fourteen and the boy you're crushing on smiles at you."

"Ah, with your insides squirming."

"And doing somersaults. And you think your heart will jump through your skin it's beating so hard." Hermione paused, then looked at Harry with a strained expression. "I wanted him to kiss me, Harry!"

"And?" said Harry.

"And?" she repeated. "What do you mean, 'and'! He killed my parents!"

"I know, Hermione, we've been through all this before. And I thought you forgave him, anyway."

"I did. And I still do. I just – I can't forget. The way they looked when I found them." Her voice broke. "How every day I miss them," she said, letting her tears fall. "How every time I look at him, I think of them. What if that never goes away? I can't be so stupid as to fall for him, I can't!"

Harry went to her and held her close, letting her get the tears out. She calmed quickly, and gave him a teary smile. They sat on the sofa.

"Hermione, don't hate me when I say this, but I don't actually think it's such a bad thing."

She frowned. "What?"

"You and Malfoy. Draco, I mean."

Her eyes widened. "Harry, you cannot be serious!"

He didn't want to give away too many of his suspicions, not wanting to give her false hope, since Malfoy had refused even to discuss the matter. But Harry knew there was something Malfoy had that neither he nor Ron could give her. "I am, Hermione. I can't tell you why right now. Hopefully someday."

She said nothing, not able to look at her friend.

"So, did he kiss you?" Harry finally asked.

"No!" she said, sounding more unhappy about it than she'd intended.

Harry grinned. "Maybe next time."

"Harry Potter, I am shocked at you!"

He shrugged. "Hey, I'm sorry, but it's what I think. And if you're starting to feel things for him… then maybe I'm not so far off as you insist."

"I – you're – but – urgh!" In a bout of frustration, Hermione stormed out of the room and outside.

Harry couldn't help but grin after her. She could be so stubborn; he hoped she wouldn't let another chance with Malfoy pass by, if one ever came.

ooo

A/N: Phew! Intense chapter, at least it was to write. Thank you for reading, and for all of you who review - MWAH! Oh, and WOW! I had 68 reviews for chapter 21! MWAH! MWAH! Thank you so much for blowing me away:)