Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling, and the lyrics to the wonderful song "At the beginning" belong to Disney. Apparently.

A/N: Sooo, here's another chapter, hope you like. The inclusion of this particular song is a bit of an inside joke, so our apologies for that, but the bottom line is that we like it. Kudos to all those of you who know which movie it's from!

9- Sunday

Hermione couldn't stop thinking about what Blaise had said, even though she did her best to take her mind off things. It worried her too much. Had she made a serious mistake, breaking up with Malfoy like that? She really hadn't been able to stand it any longer. And yet, what if they went through with this plan of theirs anyway? Now she'd never find out what it was, and neither she nor her friends would be in a position to stop it.

The plan. She knew it had something to do with You-Know-Who, she just knew it. And the worst thing was that Blaise's little revelation had fallen right in her lap, just after she had blown any chance she had of finding out more. Of that she was very certain, because after the way she ended things, there was no chance of Malfoy going back to her.

The way she felt like then, she reflected, she wasn't sure she would go back to him either, no matter how high the stakes.

That night was a sleepless one for Hermione, as she twisted and turned fretfully until long after the sun had risen, and she gave up, getting stiffly out of bed to make herself an extra strong cup of coffee.

When she got into the kitchen, there was a small spotted owl waiting patiently for her on the window ledge. She opened the window and the owl hopped in, immediately helping itself to some of the cereal from the packet she held in her hand.

Hermione eagerly detached the small note from the owl's leg. Not that she could really bring herself to be interested in its contents, but right then anything that could take her mind of her troubles was a welcome distraction. The note read:

Hi, Hermione!

Harry's talked to me, and I reckon you need some female companionship, so I'm coming over this afternoon. I'll bring some cake, if you supply the tea.

Love, Ginny

P.S. Don't do anything rash! At least not until I get there. D.S.

Rash? Ginny must be mixing her up with herself. Hermione Granger didn't do rash. Unless she was pushed to the breaking point, of course, which did seem to happen quite a lot lately. But all the same.

In compliance with Ginny's request, the most rash thing Hermione did that morning was to have an extra helping of raisins with her cereal. After finishing her breakfast and reading the Prophet, she had a nice long shower. She didn't bother doing anything special with her hair; she was happy to let it return to its normal bushy self, now that she didn't have a snotty little ferret to impress.

Aggravatingly enough, these normally calming activities did nothing to settle her growing desperation. For once she honestly didn't know what to do, and she didn't like it one little bit. She was glad Ginny was coming over. She did need a girl to talk to, because this wasn't just about defeating Death Eaters any more. This was about feelings, and while Harry certainly had them, he was notoriously bad at talking about them.

Having done all her piled-up paperwork for the Leaky Cauldron the night before, Hermione wiled away the rest of the morning reading a very interesting book on the history of transferration of magic. It was rather old, though, and very outdated – most of the rites it described involved human sacrifice, among other grisly things.

-

If Draco was upset, it was nothing compared to what his mother was.

"What have you done?!" Narcissa cried, frantically pacing the smallest of their five dining rooms.

"I don't know!" Draco replied helplessly. "First she was mocking me about this stupid accident, and then all of a sudden she was yelling at me!"

"Well, do something about it!"

"I don't know if I can! She was mad, and I mean completely over the edge. I really think I've burned my bridges this time."

"Then rebuild them! Don't you realize what's at stake here?"

"That stupid ritual-"

"That's not what I mean. The ritual can go hang, you and I both know it won't work anyway. But angel, he's going to hurt you badly if he finds out about this! The only thing that will stop him from outright killing you is the fact that you're his only son, and I'm not sure that will be enough this time! He's so volatile these days, and now he's taken it into his head to do this thing, and if he thinks you ruined it-"

"But I haven't! He can use someone else, can't he? It doesn't actually have to be her."

"Yes, of course, and once he calms down he'll realize that. But by then it might be too late! Too late for you, any way, and that's what matters! Don't you see? So you need to either fix this, now, or leave. Go back to Switzerland."

Draco sighed in defeat, contemplating his choice, wondering which of the two was the lesser evil. On one hand, he really didn't like Granger. On the other-

"Fine," he said at length. "Fine. I'll win her over again. I'll crawl on my knees to get her back, I'll even befriend Potter if that's what it takes. I'll manage this, somehow I will, and father won't need to find out about this mess. Don't worry."

But where on earth would he start?

-

"...And there you have it," Hermione said, concluding her recapitulation of yesterday's events. She felt better after talking about it with Ginny, who listened, nodded sympathetically, and offered pieces of Mrs. Weasley's home made chocolate cake at all the right moments.

"Oh, Hermione, that's awful! That prat! If he was here right now, I swear I'd strangle him for you."

"Heh, you'd have to stand in line. Harry wasn't too happy with how things went either, and Ron's been wanting to strangle him since second year."

"First actually, as I recall it."

"Point is, you can only fit so many hands around that skinny little neck of his."

"True, I suppose. At least he'd still be dead."

"Well, yeah. But the important thing here is that I failed, Ginny. I knew how bad he was, I knew about all his ugly sides, and I still couldn't handle it!"

"You're only human. Besides, you stuck it out almost a whole week. In my book, that's pretty impressive."

"It's not enough, though. I mean, I knew he had an ulterior motive for seeing me – of course I did, he never would have gone out with me willingly – and it's not like I want to be instrumental in whatever plans they're working on, but if I was, then at least I'd be on the inside! I'd have a chance to stop it! But now..."

"Don't say that, Hermione. Look, do you really want to get him back?"

"Of course not! But I think I have to."

"In that case, I know just the thing."

Hermione blinked.

"You- you do?"

"Sure! You know music heals the heart, don't you?"

"Er... It does?"

"Of course it does. So what you need to do, is participate in Galinda Glint's song contest! Tonight!"

"... Tonight? Are you serious? It's not like I'm even signed up for this thing."

"Yes, you are."

"WHAT?!"

"I took the liberty, I hope you don't mind?"

"Ginny, there is absolutely no way I'm singing in public!"

"It's not in public, it's a radio show. I'm told the audience is very small."

"That's even worse! Everyone will be listening! Anyway, I don't see how this will help me get back the man I... hate."

"I do," said Ginny, sobering up. "You said yourself that Malfoy was only going out with you because of some ulterior motive. That means that he probably wants to get back together with you as well, doesn't it? All he needs is some kind of excuse."

Hermione paused.

"You know," she said slowly, "you might actually be right about that."

"I know I am. So, you go on the air, sing some dumb love song, get all sappy, you both confess your true love..."

"But... but then everyone will know about it!"

"Which will make it that much harder for him to go back on his word. You know he hates embarrassing himself in the public eye."

"But they'll hear me saying it too!"

"Meaning that this time, even your temper might not be enough to keep you two lovebirds apart."

Ginny grinned evilly. Hermione gazed at her hopelessly.

"I don't want to do this. I don't."

"Face it, Hermione, this is the best chance you have, because if it succeeds, there won't be any going back for either of you."

"I- But- All right. I'll do it, though God knows why I'm agreeing to this. I must be mad."

"So you must," agreed Ginny, downing the last of her tea in one long gulp. "Well, I'll be off, then. Don't you worry about a thing, I'll make sure Malfoy gets there tonight. Here's the address," she said, putting a small slip of paper down on the table as she rose. "Seven o'clock sharp, be there on time, or else."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there. It's been great talking to you, thanks so much for cheering me up."

"Don't mention it," said Ginny, and with a jaunty wave she left the apartment.

Hermione took a few moments to pluck up her courage, before she too left her safe haven. Finally resigned to what fate had in stall for her, she went once more to Parvati and Lavender's salon.

-

It was half an hour before the show was about to start, and Hermione and Draco were ensconced in a small, claustrophobic cubicle, each studiously avoiding eye contact with the other.

"All right," said Hermione, after another few minutes. "This can't go on. We have to talk. More importantly, we have to practice, or we're going to make gigantic fools of ourselves before half the wizarding world."

"I, uh, I can't actually sing," muttered Draco. Hermione correctly interpreted this as an offer of truce.

"That's a shame, because neither can I. So do you want to practice? Because we're going to have to get through this debacle some how."

"Yeah. Yeah, let's," he replied, waving his wand at the gramophone placed on the table between them. It started playing the opening chords of a muggle song which Hermione vaguely recognized. The first lines of the lyrics appeared in silvery writing in the air, and Hermione, clearing her throat nervously, began to sing.

We were strangers, starting out on a journey

Never dreaming, what we'd have to go through...

Her voice broke atrociously on the high notes, but she mentally gritted her teeth and went on. Draco struggled with his part, trying to follow the tune as best he could, but it was pathetically obvious that he'd never heard the song before in his life, and had no idea how to sing it.

"They'll fix this sort of thing magically," he assured her, when they'd gone through the whole thing a second time and there was no sign of improvement. Hermione hoped so. Merlin, how she hoped so.

All too soon, Galinda herself came to fetch them in all her pink glory, smiling brightly and ushering them toward the stage. Hermione walked in a haze. This couldn't be happening, it couldn't. She barely heard Galinda introducing them, calling them the "star couple of the evening", and had to struggle to stay focused.

She made it through her bit, though, and though Draco's voice was far from superb, he managed to hit all the right notes. Then came the duet bit, the one she was least confident about.

Life is a road that I want to keep going

Life is a river I want to keep flowing

Life is a road, now and forever

Wonderful journey

And suddenly, after what felt like a couple of seconds, the song was over. But their performance wasn't, and the worst was yet to come, as she knew it must. Because Ginny was right. One of them would have to say the fatal words that would draw this farce out even longer, because they both had too much to lose not to. For an agonizingly long moment they stared at each other. Then Draco finally drew a deep breath, and spoke.

"Hermione, there's, ah, something I want to tell you."

"Yes?" Hermione replied, breathless for all the wrong reasons.

"I know I've said some stupid things, things I regret. And, Hermione – I love you."