CH-70

Granger Disapparates, leaving me with the two golden boys.

I glance sideways at Weasley, but he's not paying attention. I wonder if he saw us. Most likely, he didn't see a thing—I'm almost positive that he would have overreacted hugely if he did. But honestly, I don't know that much about the guy, and who knows? Maybe he has finally grown a few brain cells and learned to keep calm.

"There's only one bedroom here, isn't there?" Potter asks.

"Yeah, how are we going to fit?" Weasley asks.

I shake my head. "Are you two wizards or not?"

I lift my wand and perform an Undetectable Extension Charm on the living room, drawing it out until it looks about right. Then I throw up a wall to cut off the empty space and fashion a door in the new wall.

"I trust you two can handle your own furniture?" I say.

Potter and Weasley exchange glances before heading into the new guest room.

I pace back and forth in front of the coffee table for a minute, unable to stop thinking about the kiss. My lips are still tingling, and her taste still lingers on my tongue.

Finally, Blaise appears.

"Go ahead and get set up in the room over there," I say, pointing to the new door. "I'll be right back."

He nods and exits the living room—Granger must have explained to him why I have to go as soon as he arrives.

I lift my wand and Disapparate.

Do you want me to have feelings for you?

The question echoes in my head. God… if I was being completely, absolutely honest with myself, the answer would be yes. I can't lie to myself.

Oh god, what does this mean for us? We can't be together. It's just… not possible.

No, no, attention. Pay attention.

Madam Pomfrey is speaking very quickly and stubbornly about something. What? Right, she doesn't want me to take Ginny away. Yes, I know Ginny is weak.

"Malfoy is wealthy, so he has plenty of supplies," I say, interrupting her. "I'll be able to take care of her from his place."

"Nonsense. With an internal injury like that, Side-Along Apparition could be fatal, if you splinch her."

"I won't splinch her," I say.

"Madam Pomfrey," Blaise says, "it's going to be fine. Hermione's really solid at Apparition. And you're going to need as much room as you can get in this house, so having one less person is a good thing. McGonagall would understand."

The nurse looks at us, frowning, but nods her head. "Very well, then."

She bustles away to get back to work. I see Charlie and Mrs. Weasley standing several cots away, looking at Fred. I assume the guys explained where they're going, and where I'll be taking Ginny.

"You sure you don't want me to take her? I could take her to meet Draco," Blaise says to me.

"I'll be fine. We already worked it out. Just show up at his cottage, and he'll know to come meet me," I say. "Go on."

He smiles. "Take care of yourself, Hermione. See you in a few minutes."

"Bye, Blaise."

He Disapparates.

I take another look around the now-crowded room. Many familiar faces have arrived, but most of them are too busy trying to take care of wounded friends or family to take notice of my appearance. I'm sure that if Harry showed up, they'd be all over him, though. It probably was a good thing that I came instead, then. I doubt Harry would have been able to make it out of here.

I grip Ginny's arm tightly and Disapparate, focusing on my destination.

A moment later, my feet hit solid ground, and Ginny lands by me. I levitate her body and move closer to the house. Then there's a pop behind me, and I whirl around, wand pointed at the source of the sound.

Thank god, it's Draco.

My mouth opens, but suddenly, I'm speechless again. He has this look in his eye, one that's very unfamiliar to me. He looks as though he wants to devour me. I instinctively back up a step, and he takes a step forward, as if he's stalking his prey.

Then he smirks, and I'm almost willing to believe that I imagined what just passed between us.

"You brought her," he says, stepping over and reaching down to grab her hand.

I nod. "Draco, before we go back… we really should talk about what just happened."

He grimaces. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Why not?" I try imitating his trademark smirk. "Are you afraid this time, Draco?" I ask, reminding both of us of our bet. Feels like it was so long ago.

"Well, I'm not a Gryffindor lion. I don't have to be unafraid."

"So you admit that you're scared."

"Hey, just because I'm saying I'm allowed to be scared doesn't mean I am," he says.

"Then why won't you talk about it?"

He tries to stare me down, but I don't back off.

"We should probably go," he says.

"See, you're running away," I say. Why is he doing this?

"We shouldn't be talking here anyway," he says.

"You said you'd know if anyone tried to come here without your permission. Technically, we're safe here," I point out.

"You trust me that much?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

"You've saved my life, multiple times. If I could choose to put my life in anyone's hands, I'd choose yours," I reply.

His lips form a faint smile, but it fades almost instantly.

"It's still not safe here," he says. "But fine, I'll give you the answer you're looking for, so that you can finally rest your mind. It's yes."

My heart skips a beat. But my mind yells for me to calm down, to make sure. I have to be sure.

I bite my lip. "Yes to what?"

He pauses, looking at me. I start to wonder whether or not he'll answer.

"Yes, I care about you," he finally says. "Yes, you're important to me. Yes, I worry about you when you're not with me. Yes, I've gotten over the fact that you're a Muggle-born. Is that answer thorough enough for you?"

I fight the smile that's beginning to form on my lips. I'd been horrified of this outcome before, but somehow, all of my fear has left me. I only feel this giddy happiness. I probably shouldn't feel so grateful for this response, because I'm quite sure it'll cause more problems for me. But I never realized just how much I wanted it to be true until he finally admitted it.

"You still in there?" he asks, cutting off my thoughts.

I nod. "Yes, I'm still here."

"Listen… I don't want you to reciprocate these feelings. At least, not yet."

I frown. "Why not?"

"Because it'd be too much like you were doing it out of gratitude."

I open my mouth to protest—who is he to determine what my motivations are? But he holds up a finger to hush me.

"We really should go now," he says. "I have work to do."

"In the middle of the night?" I ask.

"Yes. I'm already late."

"Sorry," I say.

He only shakes his head in response and gets a good grip on Ginny's arm.

K̾o̾-̾f̾i̾

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