Hey folks. Thanks for the reviews for chapter 1, reviews are always welcome (please!). I really enjoy hearing/reading what you think on the stories, whether it's negative or not so feedback is definitely welcome.

Here's the second bit, hope you like it.

Istalindar

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Hermione lay beside him, watching him sleep. He turned eighteen five hours ago, and she'd not slept very much; half hour snatches every half hour, mostly. And that was against her will. She didn't want to take her eyes off him for a second, didn't want to let him go. Would not let him go.

"Hermione, you need to sleep, love." Draco grumbled sleepily, throwing an arm over her waist and pulling her to him. She let herself be pulled, burying her face in his bare chest, the sprinkling of hair tickling her face, and breathed deeply, the steady thump of his heartbeat in her ear. Tears welled, and she swallowed them back. But one escaped, running over her cheek to drop onto his skin, and he shifted.

"Don't cry." He whispered. "Please don't cry."

"I'm not." She replied, equally quietly. She knew he smiled, and he pulled her closer.

"I love you." He whispered. "I always loved you. From the second you asked me on the train where Neville's stupid toad was, I knew I loved you. Nothing you could ever do could change that, and I wouldn't want you to."

"We'll get through this." Hermione whispered back. "I promise. I won't let you go, not ever." He kissed her hair.

"I'm glad." He replied. "Because I have no intention of letting you go either." She smiled. "Sleep, sweetheart. I promise I'll be here when you wake up."

With that in mind, Hermione let herself sleep.

As he promised, when she woke, he was there. But the moment he saw she was awake, he leapt from bed, saying something about needing a piss. Hermione laughed, shouting 'Happy birthday' after him.

Her worries of last night seemed very far away.

They dressed and got ready for school, and it was only after lunch that Hermione's nagging worry returned. Draco convinced her to skip last class and they spent it making love on the rug in front of the fire in the Room of Requirement, and there was a terrifying finality to it. Draco didn't say anything though, and while the shadow in his eyes was darker than ever, his hands were gentle and his touch loving. Hermione surrendered to it, letting thoughts fade from her mind.

But then he wasn't at dinner. And she knew sex always made him hungry. Harry and Ron realised her worried looks, and when they nudged her questioningly she bit her lip and told them the two facts that might have sealed Draco's fate.

"It's his birthday today. He turns eighteen." Harry didn't get it; he hadn't grown up on the stories. Ron did, and all the colour faded from his face.

"'Mione, I'm so sorry." He said, taking her hand. She smiled bravely.

"He could just be asleep." She said. "Or in the library, you know Snape gave us loads of homework." By this point, Harry had cottoned on too, and he tried to support her unlikely theories.

"Yeah, that essay is a bitch." He agreed. "And Draco's almost as bad as you for writing extra." He said with smile. "Check the library after dinner, I bet he's there."

The façade held for about thirty seconds more before it crumbled and she burst into tears.

"Oh god." Hermione breathed deeply, trying not to hyperventilate. Harry and Ron quickly rose and escorted her from the Hall, ignoring the funny looks they were getting. They sat her down on the bench in the corridor by the doors, Ron sat beside her with one hand rubbing her back and the other in hers, and Harry knelt in front of her.

"He'll be fine, Hermione, you know he will. Remember in the DA how good he was? We both know he should have been teaching those, he'll be fine. And that's providing he actually comes up against any trouble. He's got a talent for getting out of trouble, 'Mione, we all know that. And-" She barely heard him, tears coursing down her face and sobs echoing in her ears. Oh god oh god oh god.

"Are you all right, Miss Granger?" The three looked up and saw McGonagall standing over them, a concerned expression on her usually stern face.

"Fine, Professor." Hermione managed. Dumbledore appeared beside the Deputy Head.

"Miss Granger. May I have a word?" He seemed not to notice her blotchy face. She nodded, rising. Harry and Ron flanked her. "Just Miss Granger, for now." Dumbledore said gently. Hermione smiled reassuringly at Harry and Ron and followed Dumbledore up to his office.

"Sherbet lemon?" He asked once they were both seated. Hermione shook her head, and Dumbledore poured her a cup of tea. "Have that instead. I understand, Miss Granger, that today is Mr. Malfoy's eighteenth birthday, and that he was not at dinner." At this, Hermione nearly choked on her tea, and she set the teacup back on its saucer with shaking hands, setting both on the desk safely out of the way.

"Sir." She managed.

"I don't know what will happen, Miss Granger." Dumbledore said kindly. "I can't give you reassurances I don't have and I won't insult you with empty platitudes. I just wanted you to know you have my complete support, no matter what. You have been an overwhelming source of good for Mr. Malfoy, and between your friendship and that of Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, you've done what I thought was nigh impossible: helping a Malfoy see past the trappings of their Slytherin qualities. Whatever happens, I just wanted to tell you."

"Thank you, professor." Hermione smiled weakly. All she wanted to do was go back to their rooms and wait for Draco to come home.

"You may go, Miss Granger." Dumbledore said, eyes sympathetic and edged with the same shadow of foreboding that she had seen in Draco's for over a week.

He didn't think Draco would come back. If he even could.

"What did he say?" Ron and Harry were waiting for her by the gargoyles, and she shook her head.

"Nothing much. Just that he was supportive."

"But not going to do anything."

"There's nothing to do, Ron." Hermione shook her head. "I'm going back to my rooms. I want to wait."

"We're coming with." Harry said immediately, and the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes let Hermione know that arguing would achieve nothing.

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The night was long, and Hermione found herself waiting out most of it alone, Harry and Ron drifting off asleep only to wake and apologise profusely. They wouldn't leave her though, and she appreciated the sign of support, even if they did snore.

Dawn came late, and Hermione unfolded herself and walked stiffly around the room. There had been no sign of him at all, and Hermione walked into his room, trailing a hand over the sheets where barely twenty four hours ago they had slept. She stood in the middle of the room and felt lost.

A tapping at the window drew her out of her daze and she saw Igor, Draco's owl, tapping insistently. There was a package, and Hermione untied it quickly so the owl could move more freely. He clacked his beak at her gratefully, and settled on his perch. Hermione looked at the package.

A box, square and heavy. It had her name across the top in his familiar handwriting, so with a glance back to check Harry and Ron were asleep she opened it, pulling the paper back and opening the flaps of the box. And then she froze, breath catching and heart pounding so loudly in her ears she couldn't hear herself screaming. Ron and Harry came running, and with barely a glance at the box, Harry was pulling her away, holding her arms across her chest so she couldn't fight him off. Ron shut the box and put it on the floor out of sight.

She was still screaming. Igor got fed up and flew out the open window. Harry and Ron were trying to talk to her but all she could hear was her pounding heart and all she could see was Draco's wide grey eyes, the shadow at the forefront now, fear and resignation.

"Miss Granger!" Snape, McGonagall and Dumbledore burst into the room, wands drawn and dressing gowns pulled hastily over nightclothes, but Hermione barely saw.

"What the hell is going on here?" Snape demanded. Ron pointed to the box and Snape pushed past him, opening the flaps and flinching before quickly closing it. Hermione's screams were subsiding into hoarse sobs, her knees giving up so she and Harry sank to the floor. She was rocking in his arms eyes clenched shut as she sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.

And then, gradually, even her sobs subsided so she stared, eyes blank, straight ahead, tears gone and mind exhausted.

"Come on." Snape said, scooping her up out of Harry's arms and leading the way out of the Head Suite and to the infirmary. Shocked, both at the box and at Snape's behaviour, the boys followed, hovering anxiously while McGonagall whispered the situation in Pomfrey's ear and then the nurse administered a sedative. They all watched as Hermione's body succumbed to the drug, and then she was asleep, eyelids closing over eyes torn with loss.

"God." Ron sank into one of the chairs, head in his hands. Harry was sat on a bed in a similar position, the loss of one of their closest friends finally hitting home. Hermione's grief had consumed them all, wrapping them in her pain so they didn't feel their own. But now she was asleep, there was nothing to shield them.

"He refused." Harry said, looking up finally at the watchful teachers. "He was meant to become a Deatheater and he refused. So they killed him. And decapitated him so we could see it was our fault."

"It's not your fault." Snape said bitterly. "He's dead because the Dark Lord will not be refused and that is what Draco did."

"Don't you dare say its his fault!" Ron lashed out angrily, grief overcoming his inherent fear of the Potions Master. "Don't you dare!"

"There's no way to tell." Harry shook his head. "If we hadn't been his friends, would it have been different? Would he have been the Deatheater his father wanted?"

"There is no way to tell." Dumbledore said gravely. "And there is no use dwelling on 'what ifs'. You've lost a dear friend to a war that will come to consume everything, so grieve for him, but don't blame yourself."

"Try telling that to her," Ron said. "And chances are she'll take an eye out." They all looked at the sleeping girl. "This is going to destroy her."

"Miss Granger is a strong girl." McGonagall said, with more faith than she felt.

"Hermione loved him more than anything." Harry shook his head. "Strong as she is…I don't know if she can cope with this."

"Either way." Dumbledore broke in. "Try and get some sleep, the two of you may stay here tonight with Miss Granger. We'll talk about this in the morning." He turned and left, the other teachers at his heels. Pomfrey stayed only long enough to make sure the boys were comfortable, and then she, too, left.

The infirmary was quiet, still. And Harry and Ron settled themselves in for a long vigil. For themselves, for Hermione, and for a fallen friend.

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