Author's Note: Wow! Already there have been reviews, follows, and favorites to this story when only one chapter has been put up. I'm so flattered! Thank you guys so much for all the support! I hope I won't disappoint! Not JK.

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Hermione stared at the spot where Draco had just been, frozen in her stiff and haughty position. Suddenly, as the realization of everything washed over her, she crumpled. She began to sob on the couch, gasping to bring air into lungs that felt like they were on fire. How could this have happened? How could she have gone so wrong? She knew they were both fiery personalities, and that sometimes they butted heads, but how had it gone so wrong that five years of friendship and four years of love had left her single and filled with anger and sadness?

She lay down across the couch, hugging a pillow to her chest, trying to do anything to control herself. But, as her body was wracked by sobs, she realized exactly what her problem was: she always needed control. Wasn't that why she and Ron had always had their spats? Wasn't that why she had been so terrified when on the run with Harry and Ron? She needed control over her life, over situations, over everything. And that lack of control made her lash out because she was frightened. Frightened of not being in control. Frightened more of the fact that people might see her fear. Frightened they might be able to use it against her.

Hermione had always prided herself on her quick thinking, her intelligence, her kindness, and her bravery. She was a Gryffindor after all. If she was scared, she kept it inside and became stronger because of it. A familiar tune suddenly ran through her head, sung almost mockingly, as if laughing at her actions. You might belong in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart. Their daring, nerve, and chivalry set Gryffindors apart.

Hermione cried harder. She cried for about an hour more, until there were no more tears to shed, until her wracking sobs had turned to shallow, shaky breaths and she was too drained to continue. As she lay in her sitting room on her sofa, she started drifting off to sleep, exhausted from all of her crying.

…

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Hermione's eyes snapped open at the noise and she sat up quickly, her head spinning. She felt nauseous and wondered if she had a hangover, because it certainly felt like it. She thought back to the night before, and the previous night's events hit her like a ton of bricks. Tears immediately started streaming from her eyes as she remembered everything that had been said and done.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Her eyes snapped to the door, remembering why she had awoken. She got up unsteadily, hurriedly wiping the tears from her cheeks and went to answer the door. She opened it and came face to face with Minerva McGonagall, the headmistress of Hogwarts.

"Good morning, Professor Granger, I was wondering if- Hermione, what's wrong?" She halted and dropped her brisk tone as she saw the Transfiguration Professor standing in front of her, curly hair falling out of its braid, her eyes bloodshot, and her face puffy and streaked with tear tracks.

"I-, I just-. N-nothing's w-wrong, Minerva. I-I'm fine," Hermione replied, trying to keep her voice level but failing dismally as the words caught in her throat.

McGonagall gave her searching look before guiding Hermione back into the apartment. As they sat down on the couch, McGonagall summoned two cups of tea. "Here, dear," she said softly, handing one to Hermione. "Now tell me what's wrong."

Before she knew it, the words were pouring out of her mouth. How she had thought he was going to propose. How they never got to see each other, so how was she to know something was wrong? How she had accused him of infidelity. What he had said about her. How lost she felt. As she struggled through the story and occasionally sipped her tea to calm herself, McGonagall sat, listening quietly. When the story had finished, she smiled kindly at Hermione.

"Miss Granger, why don't you take this week off. I'll have someone cover your class."

Hermione looked at the headmistress in shock. Hermione had never taken a day off of work. "But Professor-"

"Hermione, I insist. Take the week off and get yourself back together. You've earned a break and Merlin knows you need one. Why don't you head home and relax. Hogwarts will still be here when you get back."

"But-" Hermione argued feebly.

"Hermione," said McGonagall sternly.

"Thank you, Minerva," she said quietly, looking down at the now empty mug that was clasped in her hands.

McGonagall stood up suddenly, and her usual brisk manner returned. "Well, I'm off. There is a substitute professor to be found and classes to be taught in the meanwhile. Take care of yourself, Miss Granger. We'll see you back in a week." She sent Hermione a rare smile and swiftly walked out of the room, leaving Hermione staring at the closed door, still processing everything that had been said.

…

Hermione took one look around her spotless quarters in Hogwarts, and sighed. She picked up her trunk and her bag and headed out, to Hogsmeade, where she could apparate to the apartment she had shared with Ginny before she had gotten married. As she walked silently through the halls of her alma mater, she looked around, her mind filled with the memories it provoked, both good and bad. She tried to hold back tears as she passed the statue that she had gotten stuck behind while trying to adjust it and Draco had had to rescue her. She walked down the stairways that she had tread millions of times over the past twelve years and remembered the battle that had taken place, and the bodies that had been strewn across the stairs and halls. She got down to the Entrance Hall and saw the place where Draco had kissed her for the first time, and her eyes began to water as she remembered that fateful day four years ago.

Hermione job currently was making sure the statues and portraits were in good condition. There was a corner of the Entrance Hall that was barely noticed, as it was almost always blanketed in shadow. As she made her way over to the corner, she heard slow footsteps from somewhere behind her. She didn't bother turning around, sure the person was simply headed in or out of the castle.

"Lumos," she whispered quietly as she began to survey the walls for any damage. There were not many pictures over here, but there was a statue of a famous wizarding philosopher, his hand raised to the heavens as if making a proclamation, that was missing a number of digits, making what was meant to be a serious looking sculpture quite comical, as the only fingers remaining were his pointer and middle ones. Hermione chuckled to herself, and suddenly stopped as she heard someone else chuckling from behind her. She whirled around to see Draco Malfoy, who was looking at the statue, the corner of his mouth tugged up into a reluctant grin.

"Well, that's rather rude, isn't it?" he said, his smile evident in his voice. Hermione looked back at the statue again and smiled.

"Rather. He'd probably like the rest of his fingers back."

Malfoy's face suddenly donned an evil grin. "Well, I think it looks better this way. Much more amusing. Think of all the new students he flips off without their knowledge."

"Draco!" she cried, half-appalled, half-amused. He grinned at her and moved a step closer to her. She backed up a step, her back hitting the wall.

"Hermione!" he mocked her, a handsome smile on his face. He took a small step closer to her.

"That's terrible! It's people like you that are the reason first years are so terrified of everything."

"Oh dear. Having first years scared of the older kids who they would potentially annoy anyways? How utterly terrible." His voice dripped with sarcasm, yet the warm smile remained. He stepped closer, and was now only a foot from Hermione. Not sure why she was feeling suddenly nervous, she began babbling, as she was prone to do when anxious.

"It is terrible. It's quite terrible. You really shouldn't treat the first years like that. Not that you go here anymore because you graduated. Well, so did I but I mean that-"

"Don't you ever shut up?" he asked, smiling at her. Suddenly, his lips were on hers and the words she had been about to say died in her throat as she wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling one of his arms wrap around her waist as the other hand gently held the back of her neck.

"Professor Granger!"

Hermione snapped back to the present, suddenly realizing she had been staring at that corner for what had probably been a good amount of time. She looked around and saw Darcy Ravensdale, a third year Hufflepuff and one of her brightest students.

"Yes, Miss Ravensdale?" she asked, hitching a smile onto her face.

"Professor, I was just wondering if you could suggest any books that might help with understanding the theory behind switching spells. The textbook simply isn't enough and I think the reason I'm having difficulty is that I don't completely comprehend the theory."

Now Hermione remembered why she liked this girl so much – she reminded Hermione of herself at Hogwarts. Hermione thought hard for a moment, then replied, "Transfiguration Topics in Theory by Thorton Trumpington should be of help. If that's not enough, ask Professor McGonagall. She's sure to know. Possibly Madame Pince as well."

"Professor, where are you going, if you don't mind me asking?"

Hermione hesitated for a second before replying cheerfully, "A quick trip. Family business. I'll be back next week though."

"Well, I hope everything goes well. And thank you for the book suggestion. I'll see you next week!" She smiled warmly at her professor before heading off, her jet black curls bouncing as she walked.

Hermione felt her face fall from its smile as the girl headed off, and she set off out the doors of Hogwarts, making a concentrated effort not to look at that corner as she left. She made it to Hogsmeade, silently thanking the powers that be that she came across no one else she knew, and paused to catch her breath outside of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, which had expanded to Hogsmeade after its meteoric success in Diagon Alley. She spun on her heel, holding her bags tightly, and disapperated. Little did she know that a redheaded someone inside the shop had seen her crumpled form and sad expression before she disappeared into thin air.