Author's note: Abi wants to say that this chapter dioes have a point. She knows it is very soppy and everything, but Abi needs something to write for time to pass by.

Next chapter, expect something intresting, and in the chapter after that! Becuase they are exciting, ABi will write, or type, and post a.s.a.p, but now saying that, knowing Abi's luck, Abi will get stuck.

Still need to get more orange squash, running out.

So Abi's boring, soppy nonsense chapter that she needs to pass time- don't stop reading becuase of this one! Chapter eight will be here soon!

Enjoy...

Chapter Seven: Memories

"How long have I been asleep for?" Hermione asked, barely moving in Draco's arms.

"My guess is two hours, three at the most."

"I'm sorry."

"for what?"

Their whispers died down into silence. A few clouds had come into view while Hermione had been sleeping, dusty pink and light orange shaded them, signalling sunset.

Hermione could not answer Draco's question. Why was she sorry? For telling him about Christmas? For falling asleep? She did not know, she frowned, she was still sleepy.

"I can't remember what happened."

She put a hand on the arm around her, as if to pull it closer.

"When?"

"After I told you."

"You cried, I comforted, you fell asleep, I comforted."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being here. For listening."

"It's okay."

Their whispers continued, Hermione feeling safe in Draco's arms. She felt protected, safe, cared for.

"What do you think?"

"About what?"

"Everything. About why I can't eat, about Christmas, about telling you."

Draco thought about it.

"I'm so pathetic."

The words stopped Draco in his tracks. He bent his head a little, so he could see the top of her head.

"Why are you pathetic?" His question was almost inaudible.

"For not being able to deal with it. For being able to cope."

"No one could have lasted as long as you have. You haven't taken it out on anyone else, you haven't turned into an arse or broken down in the middle of school. You've been hiding, which, is hard to do. You've been fighting on your own, which so much harder than just giving up."

"But it's going to be easier now. Because now, you have me here fighting with you, okay?"

He felt Hermione nod.

"I'm not so sure about the not taking it out on anyone else part."

"Who do you have in mind?"

"Ron."

Draco gave a little chuckle.

"Listen to me. It is not your fault that Weasley is such a pompous twat when he can't have his own way. You would rather go to Italy then spend the summer with him, who you will be seeing non-stop for the next year anyway. Italy for a week or two, or being with somebody your going to be with for ages?"

Draco answered his own question.

"I don't know about you but Italy sounds pretty promising."

Hermione laughed a little.

"Why do you think he got so mad?"

"About not seeing you?"

Hermione gave a nod.

"Well I don't know… Italy means Rome, breath-taking sights, glorious weather, not to mention Italian boys."

Hermione laughed and Draco didn't have to see her face to know she had an eyebrow raised.

"You think he was jealous?"

"Yeah."

Draco heard the sorrow in her voice, it had been there ever since they had first started speaking. He desperately wanted it to go away.

"But knowing Weasly he was probably jealous because you get Italian food, fresh, from the very country itself."

Hermione laughed again, before resting her head back against his chest.

"We should probably head back." Hermione said, not wanting to hear her mother's shrill voice, the yelling of her father, but knowing it would get worse the longer she was away, she thought it was probably better to get back sooner than later.

Draco bent down and whispered in her ear.

"One more thing before we go."

"What?"

"I can't be hold responsible for what I might do to your parents."

Hermione whirled about in his arms.

"You can't tell them you know! You can't tell anyone!"

Hermione began to panic, Draco could see the fear in her eyes.

He didn't know what that fear was. Her parents might hit her? It wouldn't surprise him after what had happened. She might be taken away? He didn't know.

"Shhh! Calm down Hermione. I won't tell, if you get better. It's not a threat or black-mail or anything. But if you still keep fainting or are still unable to eat soon, you'll get worse Hermione. You could become very, very ill. If it does get to that stage then I will have to tell someone. For your health. Okay?"

"Okay." She whispered in response, the panic vanished from her eyes.

He pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close.

"But you won't get to that stage. I won't let you."

Hermione smiled, tears once more in her eyes. He helped her onto her horse, she was a bit light-headed and dizzy and tired from her cry, but she looked so much better.

Draco knew, he just knew, that she needed that cry. And so, together, they headed back to join the rest of the world.

…

"Where have you been?! We are supposed to go for dinner with Mr. Schambey, and you certainly can't go looking like that."

If looks could kill. Rachel was giving Hermione one, while Draco put his arm around Hermione. Her eyes darted from her to him.

"My uncle was well aware we went out for a horse-ride. We even rode two of his own horses which he offered. My uncle knows me and knows that I am always out for a long time with the horses. I am sorry for any inconvenience or worry I have caused you but I am to blame not Hermione."

Draco's tone was so cold and sharp it made Hermione shudder.

"Hermione, nice to see you. I trust my nephew took good care of you, you enjoyed the ride and liked the horses?"

Mr Schambey asked, suddenly coming into view.

"Mr Schambey. I loved the ride, the horses were beautiful and so kind, and Draco's company was wonderful. It has been my favourite day in Italy. So far."

"Wonderful!" He clapped his hands.

"Your not dressed for dinner." His disappointment was clear, he lowered his head.

"Uncle S, Hermione and I are tired and prefer something a little more light than a restaurant meal this evening."

Draco looked at his uncle, and some kind of message must have been passed between them because Mr Schambey no longer looked sad.

"Very well. Shall we go and find your husband Mrs Granger?"

"Of course. I shall have to buy a bell for him, and hang it round his neck so I won't loose him."

They laughed walking off.

"Come on." Draco said, leading Hermione to his room.

"So, now we, I, know what the problem is, I, we, need to come up with a way to get you over it."

Hermione, too tired to be polite sat down and curled up on Draco's sofa, while he paced up and down in front of her.

"Draco please stop pacing, it's making me dizzy."

Draco sighed but flopped onto the floor.

"let's not think about it tonight. We're both exhausted, just wait till tomorrow. You never know what a new day will bring."

"Fine, but, Hermione, you have to do what I say."

"Within reason I will." Hermione yawned.

"I'm bored."

"Draco, there's loads of stuff for you to do."

"I feel like singing."

"Then sing, nothing's keeping you back."

"Need music. Can't sing without music, no music." Draco muttered.

"Come on. Mr Schambey gave me a key to the music room. While we're there we may as well go over the lists."

"Do you ever stop working?"

"I don't work." Hermione turned red.

"You do. Your always doing school work, or homework, or some kind of work."

"Not proper work like a job."

"No, but your still working, trying, putting effort in, caring working."

"That's because I don't want to…"

Draco looked at her, she looked guilty.

"End up like my parents."

Draco nodded slowly, typical for Hermione Granger to be guilty about a thought like that.

"There's no shame in wanting a better future for yourself."

"I know but…"

"No buts. Come one, music room."

"No my room."

"Your room, why your room miss Granger?"

"Because, Draco, I have the music books and the key in my room."

"Oh very well, to you room."

They walked to Hermione's room and collected the things they needed before heading to the music room.

…

"Most of these are Disney."

"Is that such a bad thing."

"But Hermione, you really think that guests are going to want to watch a bunch of kids playing music?"

"If it's short and sweet than yes."

"Even if you wrong your right in some other way."

"Yup."

"Hermione, can anyone win an argument against you?"

Hermione tilted her head to one side and laughed.

"Not likely. At least, not the students in school."

Draco laughed then.

It was surprising how many times certain songs were chosen.

It ended up with:

1. A whole new world- Aladdin

2. Beauty and the beast- Beauty and the beast

3. If I never knew you- Pocahontas

4. Colours of the wind- Pocahontas

5. Circle of life- Lion king

6. Heaven's light- Hunchback of Notre Dame

7. God help the outcasts- Hunchback of Notre Dame

8. New York city- Oliver and Company

9. I can go the distance- Hercules

10. Shooting star- Hercules

The common songs chosen were all Disney.

"Not a bad choice." Draco said, there were songs everyone could sing, duets, and solos.

Hermione nodded, her own favourite duet was on that list, and taking one of her books she walked over to the piano, and began to play.

"If I never knew you…"

Draco began. Hermione listened to her playing and his voice, loosing herself in the music as she often did. The sound was, beautiful, magical. Perfect.

Draco waited for her to begin singing, but she didn't, she carried on playing until she realized she could no longer hear the angelic voice.

"How come you didn't sing?"

"I don't sing."

"Why note?"

"You really want more tears shed."

Draco sighed, and sat down, pulling a chair next to Hermione's stool.

"Tell you what. You tell me yours, and then I'll tell you mine."Hermione pouted slightly, but told her story.

She explained how she had promised herself not to sing after her grandmother passed away. How she wanted her grandmother to have something that was special to both of them.

"Hermione, as sweet as that is, I don't think your grandmother would have taken the gift, no offence."

Of course Draco had realized something that Hermione had yet again failed to see.

"What's that then?"

"As much as your grandmother would be overwhelmed at the thought. She wouldn't want something so precious to her to go to waste. He want' you to use it, be happy using it, and use it the best you can."

"I don't know. It's just been so long since I sung."

Draco ran his hand through his white-blond hair, only to let it fall back into his eyes again.

"Hermione, do you enjoy singing. Forget about everyone else for a moment. Do you enjoy it?"

"I loved it, it was my favourite thing in the world. But…"

"No more buts." Draco cut in.

"Hermione if you love it then sing. Sing for you, sing for your grandmother."

Hermione nodded.

"Your turn."

Draco was surprised, no tears, no fainting. He made a concerned face in mockery.

"I have gotten over this long ago, stopping singing helped me, but I think I've been needing to sing."

"Then sing Hermione."

"Not before you tell me your story."

Draco sighed and told her of how he had never wanted to be evil, follow in his father's or Voldermort's footsteps.

He told Hermione that, for the first 11 years of his life his only friends, the only people he trusted weren't people at all but animals.

He explained that he loved Uncle S to pieces. He was his hero, his saviour, his role model when Draco was small. Luscious never accepted Draco liked singing, or the fact that Draco was good. Better than good. Uncle S did.

So, Draco began singing in secret, going to muggle lessons, secretly paid for out of his pocket money.

And then the whole incident with his grandmother dying and Uncle S and Luscious falling out, and, Draco realizing he may never see his uncle again sung for a week non-stop.

There was nothing Luscious could do, more important things were on his mind.

By the time Luscious got around to sorting out the singing thing it was too late.

Narcissa had showed him off to everyone, all saying he was a little dear. It was the only thing Draco had ever done to defy his father, until the ester holidays, four years later.

He then explained how he was going to bear the dark mark, whether he wanted to or not. And how he couldn't deal, so, he got out A.S.A.P and went to Dumbledore, asking for help.

And then, how, after four and a half years of not seeing his uncle, Draco was reunited with him at the beginning of the summer holidays.

"Wow. Your life is worse then mine."

"That is a matter of perspective Hermione."

Wanting to get of the subject, Draco returned to the singing.

"Ready to show me your voice?"

"Don't get you hopes too high Draco."

"Wouldn't dream of it Hermione."

She began the song from the beginning, Draco singing with his amazing voice.

When it came for Hermione to sing, she took a breath and went for it.

Draco heard her, a little unsure at first- she hadn't sung for years after all, but she got into the song and although Hermione could no longer hit certain notes or do specific rolls, she was still amazing.

Despite not exercising her voice for all that time.

They finished, and the magic ended, but it left races of it.

Both Hermione and Draco felt strangely pleasant, almost as if seeing the first flower of spring, or feeling the first drop of rain after a hot and long drought.

"Let's listen to it."

"How?" Hermione asked.

Draco pulled out a small cd player and microphone.

"You recorded it?!"

"Surprise. Hermione, before you go off on one, please just listen."

He played it back, and both were speechless, they didn't really sound that good, did they?

Hermione was less shocked, she knew she could play that song, and she heard Draco sing, but she didn't know she could still sound like that, her voice struggled with some notes, but could easily be sorted if she started using it once more.

They both heard the depth of each other as they listened to their singing, the yearn to be loved, and Draco also heard something else… the chemistry?

His eyes widened and he felt completely self conscious. He was suddenly nervous and could find nothing to say.

This time it was not Hermione who felt like she was making a fool of herself.

"I… er. You… me… bye!" Draco bolted out the door, leaving it open behind him.

What on earth had gotten into him?

…

The next few days were great for Hermione. Draco apologized for his behaviour, and they were closer than before. She loved her music class and had gotten to know the kids, her parents both seemed content, Mr Schambey and all of his joy could be heard, his hands clapping habit never dying.

She got to visit towns and villages, see the beautiful seas, feel the incredible whether, go to cities and monuments, landmarks and historical places.

And all the time Draco was there beside her, making her laugh, making her feel happy and safe. Hermione never thought she'd say this but she was happy Draco was her friend.

Underneath the arrogance, the prejudice, the cruelness, the coldness, the sneer, Draco was a really sweet guy.

Hermione learned so much about him in the short time they had spent together.

He was quiet and thoughtful, and although he appeared upfront and big headed, it was just to hide his real modesty and, fear.

He was protective as well. Hermione was in stitches, when he took her to a village and a pizza boy started hitting on her.

"So, you from England? I love the language, so many amazing minds. Shakespeare, need I say more."

"Your really good at speaking it." Hermione said, hardly anyone she met had spoken English.

"Ah, got to know that language, that is if you wanna end up with a pretty bird on your arm, such as yourself."

Draco hearing this had gone over to Hermione, who was red, she wasn't pretty, why was the Italian boy saying she was. Not that mattered, after the look Draco gave him it was clear he wouldn't bother him again.

If looks could kill. He gently pulled Hermione away. Hermione was laughing so hard, at the boy's dismay and Draco's fury. Why was he so mad?

Anyway, the day was glorious after that. They looked in all the shops, talked with locals and still managed time to teach their kids. No in that order, obviously.

Hermione also discovered Draco loved taking pictures. With a muggle camera as well as the wizarding ones that allowed the picture to move.

It just so happened, that when they went on horses, another favourite pass time, they stumbled across an old path in the woods.

"Hang on, let's go through here."

"Draco, I don't think we should. We don't know this place."

"No, I remember it from before."

He lept of his horse, Hermione followed suit, as Draco cleared the branches in the way. On foot they led their horses through the old, abandoned path.

"I knew this was it!" Draco smiled, and Hermione thought she could see a rare sparkle in his eye.

The place he had led them too was… breath-taking, magical, beautiful, unreal.

There was a clearing, the bank of a river, the water so pure and clean. The soft breeze swam through the leaves of the many trees that surrounded them.

"Aunt Marie used to bring me here every summer we stayed with them when I was a kid. He sat down, hid hands running through the grass. He watched the water flow, and he, no he couldn't could he?

The last time he couldn't hear them, so why should he now?

But yes, there it was, the clear voice, beautiful, unworldly voice of the fairies.

They could hit the highest and deepest notes and yet their voice would be soft, they didn't need to stop for breathes that long.

And their favourite thing was to sing a string of endless notes, no words, no music needed, it got right to a human's heart.

Hermione too heard the sound. Draco didn't ask, he could tell by the dazed look on her face.

Draco, wondered if they remembered him, and hummed softly, while in his mind asking, praying, for them to come out of hiding.

He did what so many wizards thought were below them. The proud, arrogant, self centred, surface person- not true person, facing the river he bowed to one of the smallest creatures known.

The fairies themselves were to happy to notice at first, but they heard the voice they had not heard for a long, long while, and saw the blond snowy hair and the stormy eyes.

The tall, brown ringlet woman, was not with him, they sensed her song ended a while back.

But they were still happy too see such an old friend. They remembered him as a shy, scared little boy, no he was a man, almost at least.

They darted out from their bush, tickling with their dust, the wings beating furiously, their bodies aglow.

Hermione gasped, and sat down beside Draco.

Fairies, only liked decent hearted people. And seeing, Hermione, as a good person, they welcomed her.

And so, Draco and Hermione shared the experience together.

Draco, being united with his only childhood friends, while Hermione met them for the first time.

They sung, danced, talked, played, ran with the fairies.

Draco took many photos of the place, the fairies refusing to be in any. He used a wizarding camera, so he would be able to see the magic, not just the image of it.

Hermione, while Draco was using his camera, sat down, right on the edge of the bank. She swirled her finger in the river.

The fairies, being entirely good and magical, could sense it. So they decided to help.

Four disappeared only to come back with a fine, thin, ring of flowers, which they placed over Hermione's head, making it rest just in the middle of the forehead.

Five other fairies placed themselves around her, careful not to block her face.

Hermione laughed and smiled, not a huge goofy grin, but a beautiful, sweet smile.

The three other fairies turned Draco around, and he caught the scene almost instantly, seeing Hermione with that smile, and five fairies floating around her, it warmed his heart.

But like all things it had to end.

The fairies soon went off to find their own kind, seeming like just a bit of light you see out of the corner of your eye, thinking your mind is playing tricks on you.

Hermione's phone rang and answered it to find the screams of her mother.

Sighing, they walked through the oath, climbed onto the horses and galloped back to the hotel.

On the way back they talked.

"I can't believe it over was a week ago when I made that unfortunate promise."

Hermione could not believe she had been in Italy for almost two weeks. Then, thinking about the words, she flinched, did Draco not want to help her anymore? Did he no longer like her?

"Why was it an unfortunate promise?" She tried to keep her voice steady, dreading the answer.

"Hermione, of course I want to help you still!" Draco exclaimed, horrified, seeing her pained face, then warm flowed through him as he saw her relief.

"I didn't mean the actual promise was unfortunate, just the circumstances you were under, for me to make the promise in the first place. That is the unfortunate bit.. The fact that he… you know."

Hermione nodded absently and laughed.

"I'm sorry. Come on, race you back!"

And that was how their best day in Italy ended. Their best day in Italy so far.