Disclaimer - All characters belong to Ms. J.K Rowling, song to Mr. Jason Robert Brown, storyline to me.

If you're looking for the song, which I've gotten PMed about, it's literally called "Someone to Fall Back On," and although it's from Mr. Brown's solo album, the song was featured in the movie Bandslam and was sung by Aly Michalka, who does an amazing job singing it. Youtube it. :]

Italics are flashbacks/memories, R/R for me, so that I know you like what you're reading?

I am no prince,
I am no saint,
I am not anyone's wildest dream,
But I can stand behind
And be someone to fall back on.

Draco sat up in bed, stunned at the night's actions. He found it incredible that he felt so…guilty. He hadn't meant to make things worse for her, or to make them bad at all. He couldn't believe that he hadn't been paying attention to her demise, something was seriously wrong with her, and she wasn't letting on at all. Granger had always seen so strong to him, she had always been such an independent woman. He knew deep down that no matter how many bad things he had said to her, she always bounced back. I mean, she had squared him right in the nose third year, and hexed him in fifth. She could always take care of herself. Christ, she didn't even need Potter or Weasely. She could do it all on her own, and the fact that she was now convinced that she couldn't quite frightened Draco. The poor girl needed some convincing, and it was obvious that he was the only one right for the job. He would convince Granger that she didn't need a prince. She just needed someone standing behind her, helping when necessary. She needed someone to fall back on.

Just as bad as he needed it.

Hermione sat up in bed, crying, well, sobbing, uncontrollably. She didn't know how to contain herself. She had just practically spilled her guts to Draco, and was in utter shock about it. When this whole…thing…started, she convinced herself that she would never, ever, let anyone know, especially Draco himself. She couldn't believe her lack of self control. It was unnerving. She thought she had all this under control…

Hermione sat in the back row of the Malfoys' trial. She most certainly didn't want to be noticed, as it would be unheard of for one of…her kind…to be showing up at the trial to make history…especially in her…state. While she believed that their words were hurtful, the Malfoys had helped win the war, and in the end, they deserved to be pardoned. It was the first time that Hermione had seen Draco since…that night, and the sight, well, kind of shocked her. It had been only three months, but he had matured like no other. He was taller, and more toned, quite obviously. His blonde hair was not in its usual, slicked back state, but he had let it grow shaggy untamed. It looked like he hadn't brushed it in weeks, and it surprised Hermione. Maybe he wasn't the uptight, 'perfect' person she had believed him to be. Maybe there was a lot more of him that people didn't see. Her thoughts were disrupted though, as the final ruling came in.

"It appears congratulations are in order," sighed Harry. "It seems you and your family have escaped death, just as they had helped me escape mine." Harry felt eternally grateful to Narcissa, and Hermione knew this for certain. It was partly her fault that everyone was still alive, not just Harry. Draco had apparently been invited to lunch as well, unbeknown to Hermione. Harry got up and shook Draco's hand, a sight that Hermione thought that she would never see. Ron did the same, and Hermione felt the impulse to do the same, but instead she stood awkwardly and he reached for her hand, and brushed his lips against her knuckles. They looked each other in the eyes for the first time in weeks, and the look instantly combusted into some kind of smoldering gaze. They both looked away, embarrassed by the feeling. Her cheeks filled with a blush to almost match the red of her lips, and it was a sight that he fully drew in, letting it soak around him.

"You were there." He stated simply. It was all that needed to be said.

"Yes," she responded. And it was all she could say as well, leaving Harry and Ron looking rather perplexed.

The conversation went on pleasantly from there, talk of returning back to school in four short months, of what they thought they were to expect of their last year, of McGonagall becoming Headmaster, of life, in general really, and of how this year would be different. They would make it different.

For some reason, though, both Draco and Hermione would find themselves staring up at the other, awkwardly, and without reason. It seemed as if their eyes had their own control. And neither of them seemed to mind…

Hermione shot up in bed, confused to as her mind picked this memory tonight. It was an old one, well, not really so old, but it had seemed ancient now. Those four "short" months, as they had said, were filled with sleepless nights and heartache, as well as worrying and pleading with herself, turning Hermione into the person she was now: tired, cold, and alone. There were days when she convinced herself that she didn't even give it a chance. That she ruled herself out all too soon, but she knew deep down the truth. She would never be that kind of girl. The girl she wished with all of her might that she could be.

Fall drudged on, as always. Time always passed slowly as the leaves changed, as sort of a symbolic way of purging the summer. At least, that was how Hermione had always viewed it. Yet, for some reason she wasn't feeling any better. Schoolwork piled up, and although she now had help, finally, from Draco with all of their duties, she still felt bogged down. With no one to talk to, mind you, as Ron was busy planning a wedding and Harry was, well, trying to live a normal teenage life without being referred to as the savior of the free world every three minutes. Although they were still the triumphant trio and still spent as much time together as they could, she could always tell that they felt bad for Hermione, and most of their time now was spent trying to convince her to get out a little. After one explosive fight with Ron about actually leaving her bedroom, she drove herself full force into becoming his and Lavender's wedding planner, something she was surprised to find that she actually half-liked. While it was a shining moment, it meant, more than anything, more work. And it was while Hermione was trying to decide lighting sconces with about 60 designs spread across their common room floor that Draco found her, sleeping among them.

He stared at her for a great long while. He had never seen her sleeping before in his life, and wasn't sure he was ready to admit to himself that it was probably high on the list of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Her small body, laid across thousands of white papers, curled up like a tiny little ball. He knew it was rude to stare, but she would never know anyways. She couldn't ever know. He admired as the light of the fireplace hit her face so perfectly, leaving it glowing with a light that he hadn't seen in months, since their lunch together. It seemed like ages ago, and it still slightly pained him to remember it…

He shook it off. There was no use. She was right, he was no prince.

His own tired eyes became very jealous of her sleeping state, as they wanted a nap as well. He knew surely that he could not leave her there, though, as she would not wake up well rested from the floor. So, the next challenge came in tearing his eyes away from her and finding a way to get her into her bed. This was going to be quite the obstacle. But then, in one swift swoop, she was in his arms, cradling his neck and he was halfway up the stairs, leaving him not understanding how that happened or how she was still asleep in his arms. He nudged the door to her room open slightly, wondering and hoping it was unlocked, which it was, and carried her through the threshold, in awe.

He had never seen her room before. It fit her so well, the crimson and gold everywhere, along with all of the books, lining the walls, just covering everything. Her bed was big, and looked completely fluffy and perfect for her. Her desk was of the most beautiful mahogany, lined with the same gold and crimson textiles, and covered in papers, much like her floor and her closet, which had pictures of long, flowy white dresses and simple black tuxes. The room just seemed…perfect. She must have spent weeks designing it…she was getting really good at the designing stuff. He was noticing all her work on Ron's wedding, and it all looked amazing. She really had talents for things other than magic, and he felt like sometimes she didn't see them. She didn't see most things recently. But there wasn't very much he could do about that.

He then realized that he was still holding a sleeping Hermione in his arms. He sat down with her on her bed, and laid her out, trying to cover her and not touch her at the same time. The plan failed though, and for some reason the blankets ended up around her, but he also ended up under them, with her body lying against his. She adjusted herself slightly and snuggled up against him, with him looking at her insanely. How in Merlin's beard did this happen? Did she not want him to leave? Of course, she had no idea that he was here with her, in her sleeping state and all, but something, deep down inside of him convinced him that she wanted him there. At least, it was what he tried to convince himself. And in that moment, his mind won. He stared down at the sleeping beauty in his arms and let himself go.

"Draco…" Hermione whispered, sleeping.

It was his undoing.

A/N : Chapters are short, but it's because I'm attempting to make them for with the song, plus I've got a whole lot more song left. R/R! Thanks so much!