Thanks for the great reviews! Here's the next chapter, so you don't have to die, dracoluva. This chapter explains a whole lot, and its also got a lot of juicy stuff in it…if you know what I mean;-)

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Chapter 6: Headaches

A hand pulled her to the side and a pair of lips were pressed to hers. They were hungry, searching her mouth, her neck, tracing her jaw. "I missed you today," he mumbled against her lips. She opened her eyes and stared into those silver ones she loved. "I love you." He looked back. "I need to tell you something/" pulled back slightly, still holding her in his arms, but his face partly in the shadows of the streetlight. Diagon Alley was deserted, everyone having gone home when the shops closed.

Draco looked serious. "I didn't know if I should tell you. But I decided I wanted to be completely honest with you."

"What, Draco?" Hermione was starting to get nervous. He seemed so serious.

"My father and some of his associates have-" he broke off at a noise right inside the door. He looked around and pulled her into the shadows. There was a small nook in the wall that they squeezed into as some men came out the door. They had obviously had too much to drink, because they were singing loudly and weaving as they walked. Draco decided they'd better stay put; there was no telling what drunken wizards might do.

Suddenly he realized Hermione was crushed against him, in this small nook in the wall, and he felt her soft breasts against his own firm chest. He suddenly was awakened to his desire, and leaned down to her, opening his mouth on hers and moving his hands up and down her arms. He knew what she would do if he did what he really wanted to, so he restrained himself, barely. He settled for wrapping his hands in her soft curls, tracing her jaw with his tongue. To his surprise she responded with fervor. She ran her hands up his chest and worked his mouth with hers.

Hermione was elated. She was drowning in love with this man. She pulled him even closer, pushing her body against him, moving with him. The contours of their bodies fit together perfectly.

When his hands moved downwards, she made no effort to stop them, until they started lifting up her shirt. She was not ready for that. She knew she couldn't handle it yet. She overpowered her emotions, and moved her hands down his arms, grabbing his inching hands. She shook her head at him, and brought them back around her waist, making sure they were firmly secured before moving her own hands back up around his neck. She moved her head caught his mouth, and brought his tongue back to hers.

Draco was let down when he felt her grab his hands; he had almost been there, had almost gotten to her. All in good time, he thought, as his tongue moved with hers in a complicated dance only lovers know the moves to.

Suddenly Draco realized he could no longer hear the drunken men singing. He slowly pulled away, out of the alcove where they had been hiding. He peered down the street. No one was there. He pulled Hermione out, looking lovingly at her face. She is the most beautiful girl on the planet, he thought to himself. He brushed a stray hair off her rosy cheeks, and she looked back at him with loving chocolate eyes.

Hermione looked at her watch. It was 10:30! "Draco, we've been out here for over an hour!"

He grinned at her. "Was it worthwhile?"

She blushed and threaded her arm through his. "I'm tired. Let's go in." he led her inside and escorted her upstairs to her room. After a lingering kiss she went inside.

Draco walked to his room, wishing they could have stayed outside. He loved Hermione, though he knew what he was thinking now was lust. He wanted her. He hadn't gotten to anything in her shirt but her stomach before she had stopped him. He wanted her with a passion, but knew that if he pushed her he would never get her. He wished she would hurry up though. He shook his head, knowing it was no good to wish, and went to sleep.

Harry woke up the next morning with a splitting headache. He wished he were at Hogwarts, where he could go to Madame Pomfrey for a headache cure. When Hermione knocked on his door around 9, he groaned, "Come in."

She peered inside, and saw he was still in bed, and the lights were off. "What's wrong Harry?" she came in. "Don't you feel well? You look very pale."

"No, I have an awful migraine. You don't happen to have any aspirin with you, do you?" he looked hopefully at his muggle-born friend.

She shook her head. "Sorry, no. I could ask Tom if he has something."

"Anything, please." He rolled over and shut his eyes as she exited, searching for Tom.

She found him, of course, in the bar, and asked for a headache cure. He said, "I have just the thing, Miss Granger," and disappeared into the back. "This will cure any headache you've got, from hangovers to the Plague." He smiled at his own joke, and quickly declined when Hermione offered him money. She walked back upstairs.

"Here, Harry. Tom said this will help." She handed him a glass full of the cure, and he gulped it down. He waited.

"It worked!" he exclaimed, and sat upright. "I feel much better." Hermione noticed Harry slept in a much more conservative style than Draco did. He was wearing an old T-shirt of Dudley's, which was still far too big for him, though he had shot up some lately. He was taller than Hermione by a good few inches.

"Well, get dressed and I'll meet you for breakfast downstairs." She exited once again, and glanced next door, which was cracked open. She caught his wink before he closed the door.

Smiling to herself, she moved downstairs, in no hurry. She paused on the landing, hearing a noise, but couldn't quite place it. It seemed like a tap, tap, tap. She looked around, and her eye caught the window. Pig was tapping furiously on it, zooming around in a circle, and returning to tap again. Hermione hurried over and opened the window.

He zoomed inside. The owl had lost none of his hyper energy even when he had grown up; figuratively, no literally. He was still a tiny owl, able to fit in the palm of someone's hand. He was as excited as when he had delivered his very first letter. Hermione grabbed him as he swooped around her head, and quickly untied the letter from his leg.

"What are you doing?" she whiled around.

"Harry, you scared me! Look, it's a letter from Ron." Harry moved down the last couple steps and looked over her shoulder as she unfolded the letter. She read aloud:

Dear Harry and Hermione,

Everyone at our house is finally well, and has been okayed to leave. Dad is relieved to be going back to work, knowing he'll have piles of work to do because of the recent Auror raids. I'm sure you've read all about them in the paper. Percy has almost been inconsolable ever since we were quarantined. He didn't have the bug very bad, and you know how he lives for work, so the three weeks were pure torture for him. I'm glad to be getting out, too. The twins have been going crazy with all their energy. They invented a few new items for their shop; you might want to check them out, they're quite good, I think. Ginny can't wait to see you, Harry. You'd better brace yourself, because we'll be getting there by tonight. Mum is scrambling to get everybody packed. It isn't quite as bad with only me and Ginny still at school, but the twins want to come too, and market their items. I have a keen suspicion they are trying to put Zonko's out of business. So anyway, we can talk soon, just wanted to let you know we're coming!

Ron

"Oh, that's great! He'll be here earlier than he said he would!" Hermione was way overly excited about this, Harry thought, but shrugged it off. She could get excited about anything.

Harry really wanted to go to Quality Qudditch Supplies, but Hermione flat out refused to go, saying, "Ron, will be here soon, you can go with him." Since Harry suspected she was associating Quidditch with Krum, he let it go, and they spent the day wandering around Diagon Alley, which Harry knew almost as well as Hermione by now. Hermione insisted on getting some new books on advanced something-or-other that Harry didn't know what she was talking about. She went on about it for half and hour, Harry just smiling, and nodding when it seemed appropriate.

Draco spent his day much differently. Lucius had sent him an owl reminding him of the choice needing to be made. Draco sat in his room, deep in thought, for most of the afternoon. He took a break for dinner, where he noticed a rather loud party of Weasleys, along with Hermione and Harry, eating.

When Draco returned to his room after eating, he continued thinking, having not gotten very far in the process that afternoon. He was simply going in circles in his mind as he tried to figure out what to do, and how to handle the situation. Now, more than ever, he missed having any close friends. Crabbe and Goyle were stupid minions, and Pansy was a complete airhead who didn't care about anything but her "beauty." He didn't have any adults he could trust. He would never go to Dumbledore; he wouldn't sink that low as to go to that long-nosed muggle-lover.

Which left Hermione. She was calm, rational, logical, and cared about him. He had tried to tell her last night…His mind wandered, and he yanked it back on track. The only problem was that Hermione was muggle-born. She would obviously be biased. But then, wouldn't everyone? Long ago, most people had picked their sides. Draco now found himself having to do just that.

On the one hand, if he didn't comply, he would be biting the hand that fed him, literally. On the other, if he did, he would probably lose Hermione, since the Dark side would never allow a faithful Death Eater to marry a mudblood.

On one hand, power, on the other, love. Which did he want more? This was what all his thinking led him to. And he had no answer. It was all so confusing, especially when he added in the main reason why he had turned to Hermione in the first place.

He had noticed she was pretty last year, but had instantly dismissed her, as friends with Potty and the Weasel, and a mudblood. When he had gotten home for the summer holidays, however, things had drastically changed. Lucius (he couldn't bring himself to call the man Father when he thought of this) had become very violent. The Dark Lord was taking rash measures to keep his Death Eaters in line, as a few had taken the idea into their heads that they were losing the battle, and wanted out of the Dark side. Voldemort had used them as an example of what happened when people double-crossed him. He encouraged his followers to do the same, and Lucius and taken this deeply to heart. Every time Narcissa and he would argue, he decided to follow the example of his Lord. He beat her, tortured her, until she gave up and gave in. The sight of his mother, abused and broken on the floor in front of his father, was more than Draco could bear. He decided to spite Lucius to make up for what Narcissa couldn't do. To his surprise he had thought instantly of Hermione. Well, why not? She was beautiful; he had to admit that. She was also smart, not like Pansy. She was logical and quick at thinking.

The problem now was he no longer was into it because he wanted to spite Lucius. What he told Hermione was true. He loved her. He was suddenly reminded of a saying Lucius had told him once: "Love is weak. Love makes you weak. Power is the only thing you need." This was the reason he was able to hurt his wife so brutally. She stood in the way of his power, and he did not love her.

Draco knew now that love did make you weak. But was that bad? He knew he could not become a Death Eater because of his love for Hermione. This led him straight back to the earlier question: Did he want love or power? Could he possible have both? Maybe…not the way he had been taught, but maybe a different way…

This brought him to another point. As Head Boy he was in a wonderful position of power. Lucius had used his influence and Draco's good marks to make sure his son was Head Boy, hopefully as a Death Eater. Draco decided he needed to talk to Hermione about it. He needed to make sure he was making the right choice.

However, when Draco looked at the clock it was one a.m. he was shocked at how long he had been simply thinking. Suddenly, a headache crashed down on him and it was all he could do to turn out the lights and collapse into bed before he was out.