Two Weeks Later

If there was one thing that Draco Malfoy had learned in the past couple of years it would be that people very seldom forgot betrayal. Forgiveness was rare and acceptance was impossible. His father had made sure that he would never be trusted in the wizarding community again, and once-upon-a-time that would have bothered Draco. That's all he used to crave when he was still a boy and life wasn't quite so dark - acceptance.

Now

Well, now he had something even better. He had Hermione.

"What are you thinking about?" said girl whispered in his ear.

Smiling, he reached out for her in the darkness, feeling her soft fingers curl around his instantly. "You."

Instead of replying, she wrapped her free arm across his waist and dug her face into the crook of his neck. He didn't think this moment could get any more perfect than it already was; and he hoped with all he had that it would last. If life took this away, he wasn't sure what he would do, but it wouldn't be pretty because he knew how to fight for survival and he knew how to fight for what was his. It didn't matter if he deserved what he wanted; at least not as long as what he wanted, wanted him back. And, miracously enough, she did.

"Harry knows about us," she murmured, so softly he almost missed it.

One breath. Two.

"Is that a bad thing?" The question sounded weak to his own ears and he hated how pathetically vulnerable it made him sound.

"I've never seem him look so disappointed," was all she said. He didn't find her answer very reassuring. Everyone knew how important Hermione's friends were to her.

"I'm..." taking a deep breath, he did his very best to remain calm. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I know his opinion means a lot to you."

Her warm breath caressed his skin, sending waves of heat to every nerve he had. "I felt ashamed when he confronted me about it," she admitted. "He made me feel like I was doing something wrong by being with you."

Automatically, he grasped her to him, as if he could force her to stay with him. Shame roared through his body, making it difficult to think past the tidal wave of anger that just kept hitting him, over and over again. He wanted to incinerate the Boy-Who-Lived; he wanted to make him feel like he felt - helpless, afraid. Draco knew what kind of person he really was. There was no doubt in his mind that he deserved absolutely nothing in this life or in any other, but he was far too weak to give Hermione up.

"Hey," he heard her voice prod from what felt like miles away. Her hands untangled themselves from around his body, and it felt like the beginning of the end. She was going to leave him because of what her friends thought, and there was nothing he could do to stop her. Panic was starting to set in, paralyzing him in a way no spell ever could, but those same gentle hands cupped his face, and the ice in his veins started to thaw when his eyes looked up and were met with familiar brown ones.

"There you are," she said. The affection in her voice soothed the insecurity lurking in his stomach, but it didn't kill it completely.

He opened his mouth to say something, hoping that he could come up with the magic words to fix this but there weren't any to be had. What could he say that wouldn't push her further away? If he said anything negative towards Harry, she would be angry; if he said nothing, she might leave. He was between a rock and a hard place with no escape in sight.

"Your heart is racing," she commented quietly. Eyes searching, she ran her fingers through his hair. "What's wrong, Draco?"

He cleared his throat. "N-nothing."

Frowning, she leant back to get a better look at him. "You're lying."

The room seemed to be closing in on him. He had to get out. Rolling over, he got up from the bed and started pacing. "If you don't want this anymore..." He swallowed convulsively.

Was he strong enough to get the words out? Could he really give up what they had?

Did he love her enough to think past his wants and desires?

"If you don't want this anymore," he tried again, "then I'll understand."

You call that fighting?! His mind screamed at him. That's giving up and Draco Malfoy does not give up! Fight, damn you! Fight!

"I can't say that I'm the right guy for you, Hermione. I wish I could say that. I really do." The pacing started to get more jerky, more sporadic. "But I've made so many mistakes."

He heard her come up behind him after what felt like an eternity. The moment her arms found their way around him, he closed his eyes and willed himself to stay standing. "I'm not going anywhere," she reassured.

He wished he could let it go at that, but he couldn't. "But Harry-"

"Harry is my friend," she cut in firmly. "And I respect him, but I'm not going to let him dictate my life. We haven't been together for very long, Draco, but I can't imagine my life without you."

What happened next was out of his control. Spinning around, he picked her up and pushed her up against his bedroom door. "I needed to hear that," he panted.

She smiled down at him. "You know, I never dreamed we'd be here right now."

"That's all I used to do when it came to us," he replied, not the least bit embarrassed over how cheesy he sounded. Just a few seconds ago, he'd been so scared that he was going to lose her and he was still giddy with relief.

"You don't have to dream anymore. Come on," she coaxed, smirking. "Let's go to bed."

He happily complied.