A/N: So this is my first piece of fanfiction that I have ever put up for people to read, and hopefully, it's somewhat good.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I am not, nor will I ever be, the wonderful JK Rowling, and hence the Harry Potter World does not belong to me... though I wouldn't mind stealing Draco away for a little while ;D

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since she left. Two weeks since he'd been out of his room, two weeks since he'd had a proper meal.

Two weeks of utter misery.

He had completely shut down, not eating, not getting up, not talking to anyone and hence not letting anyone into his apartment. He simply lay in bed, replaying the night, and the fight, which tipped his life upside down, and left him cold, alone and empty.

They had been having breakfast (well, brunch really, it was nearly noon), and everything had been fine- at least, he thought everything had been fine- until the subject of visiting Weasley came up.

'We should go see Ron and Luna this weekend, don't you think?' she lay her fork down, abandoning her pancakes, and looked up at him expectantly.

'Should we? I'm sure we can think of some other way to occupy our time.' he had replied, arching an eyebrow. He hadn't meant anything by it, really, he was just kidding around. But it seemed he had given her both the wrong answer and the exact one she expected.

'Why can't we ever just go? Why does it always have to come to this?' she pushed her chair back, her eyes flashing dangerously. Draco was, understandably, he thought, confused.

'Wait, what? Come to what?' he got up too, walking around the table just as she backed up further.

'To an argument! You never want to see my friends, and I'm sick of this. I miss them, and I want to see them- but it seems that what I want just doesn't matter right? And god forbid we see your friends or your parents! You hate them don't you? Harry and Ron and all the rest? Well, they're my family, and-' she had tears in her eyes now, but Draco knew that before he could comfort her, he needed to find the real root of all this.

'You know that is absolutely not true Granger! I got past my childhood rivalries, we all did. As soon as I joined the Order. You know that. Potter was the one that fixed us up wasn't he? And he comes to me whenever he and Red have fights, right? What's wrong? I know this isn't it, because you know that, well, they're my family too.' He moved towards her, but she swept away, back into the lounge. She was haphazardly gathering her belongings when Draco walked in after her. He was too shocked by the sight before him to even try and stop her.

'I just- I can't do this anymore.' And with that, she grabbed her wand off the coffee table and walked out.

And that was the last he saw of her. He still didn't fully understand what had happened or why she had left. All he really knew what that she was gone, she didn't want him and now, well, now, he didn't quite know what to do with himself. So he curled up in bed with the overstuffed bear he had won for her on their third date, the curtains drawn together, and waited for sleep. His dreams were the only place he saw her, the only place he was happy now.

'Draco?'

He opened his eyes, disorientated by the light flooding his door from the hall.

'Draco, are you in here?' Well, that couldn't be right.

'Drake?' It was her voice, most definitely hers. But she had left him, didn't want him. Perhaps he was still asleep? He pinched his arm- it hurt. A lot. Awake then, he thought.

As he raised his head from his pillow and peered over his covers, he came to the conclusion that he had finally succumbed to insanity: for there, in his doorway, looking sad and nervous and apologetic, was Hermione. His Hermione, his girlfriend of five months, his almost room-mate (from the amount of time she spent- used to spend- at his place, she might as well live there), his would-be soul mate. But of course, it wasn't really her, just a figment of his mind- his poor, insane, genius mind.

'Draco, look, I'm so sorry about how I left,' she moved into the room, taking in his pallid appearance, the drawn curtains and the general air of disarray. She faltered slightly when she reached the bed, took a deep breath and then settled herself on the edge. Draco simply stared at her, marvelling his mind's ability to produce such a likeness to the real thing.

'-but you know how stubborn I am and- Draco? Are you listening to me? Are you okay?' She seemed to have noticed his blank stare and silly smile, because she reached over and placed her palm to his forehead, checking his temperature. Draco reached up and grazed his fingertips over her outstretched arm.

'Huh, you're solid. My mind is an utter genius,' he murmured. Figment Hermione looked alarmed, probably- and correctly- thinking he was crazy.

'Solid? Why wouldn't I be solid? Draco, are you sick?' she looked him over critically. 'When was the last time you ate? When was the last time you got out of bed? How could you have gotten paler? Have you even seen the sun anytime this week?' She fired of the questions rapidly, and Draco smiled at the semblance of his Hermione in this projection.

'You shouldn't be solid, see? You're a creation of my imagination. I'm fine though, I have you back- well, a version of you. But I'll take what I can get really.'

By now, Hermione looked about ready to drag him to St Mungos. Surprisingly- or not, after all, she was just a projection- she did a very un-Hermione like thing: taking another deep breath, she spoke to him quite calmly, as though discussing the weather.

'Draco,' she began slowly, as though speaking to a child, 'why on Earth wouldn't I be solid or real? What do you mean 'figment of my imagination'?' she continued on, just as slowly. Draco frowned. His mind would know what was happening. So why was Hermione being so difficult? Couldn't she just take him back? Then again, it was Hermione we were talking about- she was born to be difficult.

'Well, you see, my Hermione left. She doesn't-' it was still difficult to say that the girl he loved didn't love him too, 'she doesn't want me. She's gone now, so my mind came up with you- to replace her. She doesn't want me, but you do right? I can keep you, can't I?' he asked childishly, looking up at her hopefully.

'Oh Drake,' she sighed, entwining her fingers with his, squeezing his hand. 'You feel that? I'm right here. I'm real.' She leaned in and brushed her lips against his cheek.

'See? I'm real. Believe me Draco, please. I'm right here.' She whispered against his skin.

'You're not. You can't be. Real Hermione doesn't want me. She left,' Draco pouted. As much as he wanted her back, he knew this wasn't his Hermione, and he couldn't fully overlook that fact. Hermione sat back and looked at him intently.

'You keep saying I don't want you. Why- how could you think that? Of course I want you, I lo-'

'Don't say it. Only she can. And she obviously doesn't want to. Or she would be here. And I would be happy. But none of the above is true. She didn't even say goodbye. She didn't even let me argue pointlessly until we forgot why we were angry. She just, just left.' Draco closed his eyes to stop the tears threatening to spill over. Malfoys never showed these kinds of emotions, and no matter what else had changed over the past few years, he was still a Malfoy.

'I do, though, Drake, I love you. I love you so much.' Draco's eyes snapped open. She said it. Despite his wishes against it, she said she loved him. Did that mean she was real?

'Hermione? It really is you then?' He sat up fully now, staring into her eyes as if trying to detect reality. This time she closed her eyes, and smiled tiredly, as though it had taken her an age to get to this point. Now that he looked at her, really looked, she looked exhausted, as if she hadn't gotten any sleep for the last week or so, and her nose was red, and he knew that only happened when she'd been crying. She'd been crying. Over him.

'Yes. Yes, yes Draco, it's me. And I love you. Got it? Don't you ever doubt me again. Have you been in bed since I left?' Draco looked at himself now- still in the same clothes he'd had on the night she left.

'Perhaps. I have been using charms you know. Malfoys are never unclean. Ever.' He said firmly. Her smile widened, and she chuckled softly. It was, to Draco, the best sound he'd heard all fortnight.

'And food? Have you eaten anything? And charming yourself an apple from somewhere once a day does not count.' She said sternly, though she still smiled and held his hands.

'Oh. Then no,' he shrugged sheepishly. He moved over on the bed, allowing her to climb in with him and lay beside him.

'Mione?' she nodded in response. 'Why'd you leave?' He was tense now, waiting for her answer. She slowly raised herself from her position leaning on his chest.

'I was scared Draco. I saw Astoria the other day, and she's so... so beautiful, and lovely and she's exactly the kind of person you should be with- someone gorgeous and intelligent and kind and- and- and then there's the fact that we never seem to see your parents or your friends or my- well, okay, we see my friends and family all the time. But your side is just a blur to me. And it all made me wonder- are you ashamed of me? Am I not good enough for you? Do you even feel the same way I do?' She looked up at him sadly and continued on.

'And I came up with one answer: no. I'm not enough- pretty enough, pure enough, interesting enough- good enough. And as for the second part- I just didn't know. So I ran, and I-' she couldn't finish her sentence however, since Draco leaned down and slanted his lips over hers.

'Not good enough? If anything, I'm not good enough for you. You're stunning, you're the smartest person I know, you're captivating, engaging, witty, adorable, and just plain amazing. I can't believe you didn't know any of those things. I was sure you knew how I felt, Granger. Anyone would be stupid not to see it- and you're most definitely not stupid. But just in case you still doubt me- I love you. More than anything. And my parents? I don't think my father has gotten over the fact I put my family in mortal danger to follow you. And my mother might have been happy that I did what I did, but she humours my father, and he needs time.' He explained calmly, but upon seeing Hermione's surprised expression when he said 'follow you' he realized his mistake. He had never told her the real reason he switched sides.

'Followed...me? You came to the Order because of- of me? Why?' she asked, dazedly.

'Because I saw everything I see in you now, back then. And you always seemed to believe I could change. You made me believe I could change. And I love you for it.' He could see her counting the months in her head: they had been officially dating for five months last week, and Draco had joined the Order almost six months before that. They had been friends for around nine and three quarters of those eleven months.

'So you're telling me that you've liked me for that long? For five months before you told me? Draco, I...' and here she reached up and pulled his lips to hers.

'I love you.'

A/N: What'd you think? Let me know :)