Hey everyone.

I know my last chapter was super crazy amazing or anything, but, let's really start getting the ball rolling here, eh?

I also know that Valentine's Day was a couple weeks ago, but then again, this fic takes place in 2009, so…this particular Valentine's Day took place a year ago, haha.

Anyway, let's get started, eh?

Chapter 10

Free Fall

It was rather easy to say that Valentine's Day began very much like a storm; slowly creeping forward, the excitement levels growing progressively more electric as the days moved forward, and the air thickened with apprehension as rumours buzzed about, curiosity wresting the attention of the students from work to social lives once more.

Hermione and Draco found that free time was growing sparse; much of their time was devoted to class work, Heads' duties, and setting things up for the upcoming Valentine Card kiosks. They had to establish the networks, the way they would be sent out, who would be beside who, and all of the minor details that seemed minor until they are finally paid attention to.

By the time Friday evening rolled around, the students were nearly jumping with excitement, squirming in their seats, whispering and shouting out the various rumours that were currently being rapidly spread across the population like the plague. Every student became infected with the curiosity, save for a few immune to the disease, and many were asking similar questions, debating loudly over who loved who and other romantic nonsense Hermione found to be rather irritating to listen to.

In a flurry of red, the kiosks were set up, the ten stalls side by side, panels encasing each kiosk so that the user would not be able to see the person on either side. Red ribbons adorned the walls and stalls, the parchment coloured a pale pink, the dark red ink ready to be scrawled and spread across the parchment. Prefects and Heads in place, Hermione put Harry in charge of organizing the students, which didn't work out very well considering many rushed into the wall without hesitation. The sound of their feet on the ground was like a heavy rainfall, their booming voices like crashing thunder, and the electricity of excitement sizzled in the air.

The storm had come.

And Hermione sat back and received each parchment, listening to Harry order the students about, knowing that, once some of the excitement had died away, the respect for their war hero would push them to behave and pay attention. Respect was always one of the main reasons students obeyed their instructors or Heads.

Stationed between Luna and Draco, Hermione sat back comfortably and accepted letter after letter, letting out a few frustrated sounds when some students obviously tried to disobey the rules, tossing them into the 'garbage' bin on her right.

"Honestly, some people just don't know how to write love letters," Draco sighed halfway through the night, tossing one of them into the 'sending' bin on his left. "The bugger compared the girl's hair to hay and her eyes to tree bark."

Hermione chuckled softly, sorting through the letters. "At least he didn't say 'mud,' like someone did earlier on," she replied, tossing another 'meet me at said-location at said hour' letters. "You would think more students would pay attention to the rules," she sighed.

"Most teenagers don't listen to the rules," Draco pointed out. He suddenly wrinkled his nose in disgust and nudged Hermione's shoulder. "I have one for you. Would you like to read it?"

Her eyes glowed with curiosity for only a moment before she slowly shook her head. "I'll read them all tomorrow and burn them," she replied.

"Burn them? Don't tell me you don't like Valentine's cards!" Draco gasped in mock shock. Well…it was partially mock shock; some of it was real. He had never heard of a single woman burning Valentine's cards or gifts unless they were insulting or from a stalker. "I thought Valentine's Day was a woman's favourite day."

"Hermione doesn't like it," Luna said in her lilting singsong voice from beside Hermione. "She never has."

"It's pointless," Hermione added, sorting through another little packet of letters. "You buy overpriced gifts that go down over 50% in price the next day, and the presents hardly last a week. What's the point in giving roses if they're going to die? Chocolates…honestly, I don't really need a day designated for chocolate-giving. And hell, half of the cards are so unbelievably corny that they are obviously written with very little true intentions. Valentine's day is over commercialized and a waste of time, if you ask me."

"It's all about love," Luna replied softly, not waiting for Draco to answer. "You give gifts to the person you love, it's a day about love, spending it with the person you care about."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione tossed several letters into the garbage bin. "I don't need one special day to let the person I love know how I feel; I'd rather spend every day like that. I understand anniversaries, I understand the celebration that two people have been together for a certain length of time, but Valentine's Day just seems so bogus."

"Then why did you go through all of this work?" Draco asked, arching a brow at her.

"Because if I didn't," she answered, turning to send him a smile, "the student body would probably lynch me, with Parvati and Lavender leading the mob."

"That's probably very true," Draco chuckled. Glancing quickly around, he suddenly leaned close so that she would be the only one to hear his words. "So, I suppose it means we won't do anything special?"

She had to admit; she hadn't really paid immediate attention to his words; the second he had leaned against her, the feel of his hot breath on her ear, sending frissons of passion sliding down her spine. His autumn scent filled her nose, making her feel like falling back into a pile of leaves with his body pressed against hers.

It was a given that a paper cut from the parchment was the thing that tugged her out of her lulled state of mind and caused a lovely muttered string of curses to flow from between her lips.

"That is the sexiest thing I've ever heard," Draco said sarcastically, watching as she shoved her finger into her mouth to stem the blood flow. Secretly, he wanted to tug her finger into his mouth and suck on it until that bloody sexy half-lidded expression slid over her face once more.

"Bugger off," she muttered, tossing the foul piece of parchment into the bin on her left.

Shifting back to his seat, he refrained from rolling his eyes and focused on the task at hand. "So, again, I assume the answer to my question is a no?"

"I don't see the point," she sighed, sorting through more letters, oblivious to the way Luna subtly paid attention to their every word. "I don't need one single day out of the year to tell someone I care, I already told you that."

Shrugging his shoulders, Draco shook his head and continued sorting. He found it rather unheard of that a single woman would dislike Valentine's Day, that she would find it to be a useless day of the year. Then again, this was Hermione they were talking about. She was methodical, intelligent, blunt, and very critical. He should have known that she, of all of the female student body, would be the only to have some sort of dislike for this particular day. A part of him was proud, and yet another part, the aspect of his personality that had spent every last Valentine's Day wooing some girl or another, secretly wished she enjoyed at least a little bit of the holiday.

Luna, all the while, smiled to herself in contemplation.

Ron was far from pleased with being stationed between Terry and Ginny, who spent most of her time keeping him in line rather than paying attention to her task. He was unhappy with the sitting arrangement, disliked that he could not send Hermione a Valentine's card, and was infuriated that Hermione was sitting right beside Draco. It just wasn't fair. He should be beside her, right next to her, sorting through the cards, laughing with her, reminding her of how much they were meant for each other.

Not stuck between his bratty little sister and the annoying Ravenclaw.

It wasn't fair.

Grumbling to himself, he tossed several letters into the bin on his left, wishing that he could be beside Hermione right now.

She'd been avoiding him again, he had realized the night before. She barely spoke to him after the fiasco in the hallway a few weeks ago. She avoided his gaze, would place Harry between them when grouped together in class, and was barely spending any time in the library anymore. Madame Pince told him that Hermione had begun taking out books instead of spending hours on end in the library, and that worried Ron.

If she was taking out the books, then she was studying elsewhere. But, she wasn't coming to the Gryffindor common room, and any Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff he spoke to said that they never saw her enter their common rooms once except for on Head duty.

That meant that she was hiding away in that bloody Head's Common Room, sneaking about with Draco behind closed doors. Oh, everyone else might seem to deny it, might say that there was no proof, but he saw it. He saw the way the little chit snuck around behind his back, hiding in the shadows to snog and shag that Slytherin bastard. He knew that Hermione clung to him in the dark, moaning like a wanton whore, and he knew that he would have to put a stop to it.

Hermione was meant for him and only him, not the blond ferret who was clearly using some kind of spell to keep Hermione infatuated with him. There was no other reason for her actions, no explanation for the way she constantly defended him or stood by him.

He would have to find a way to get her alone, he realized, tossing several letters aside. But, that had become the greatest challenge of late; she flitted through the hallways like a ghost, sliding through unnoticed passages, dancing in the shadows to avoid all contact with him and Harry. She avoided him as though he were a leper.

He would find a way, though. He had to find a way to get her to see the light. He would somehow manage to get her alone, and then they could talk. That was it, talk, he would talk her into falling him love with him, he would remind her of how perfect they were for one another, and if talking led to something else, then who was he to deny?

Tomorrow night, he told himself. Tomorrow night she would be on duty, along with that Hufflepuff sixth year. He would sneak out and talk to her then; it would be the perfect finish to Valentine's Day.

It was easy to say that the Prefects and Heads had had a long night. They had spent most of their time sorting through the letters, and, once the last stragglers were ushered off to their dorms, they split into groups, some taking apart the kiosks and beginning the task of quickly and easily decorating the Great Hall, while the others burnt the rule-breaking letters and sent the others to the Owlery to be delivered the next morning at breakfast.

It was quite easy to say that all of the Prefects and Heads slept considerably later than usual the next morning – with the exception of Ron, of course – and that they looked more like ghosts than jovial students when they finally roused themselves and trudged down to the Great Hall. However, any and all exhaustion was quickly swept away by the excitement that filled the Hall. They had to say, they did a fine job the night before; ribbons clung to the walls, pink and red, intertwining pleasantly against the cool stone. Petals had been charmed to fall from the ceiling, rose petals of all colours, from pink to white, yellow to pale purple, fading just before hitting the heads of the tallest students. The candles had all be tainted to a soft shade of red, hovering between the petals, and the students gazed around the room in joy.

Hermione had to admit, she was quite pleased that there were no Cupids flying around, and she felt the relief in every student old enough to have experience the horror of the winged cherubs.

Separating from Draco, she made her way over to the Gryffindor table, listening as Ginny chattered loudly with another sixth year Gryffindor, remaining rather quiet and contemplative. She was tired and she just wanted to listen and not engage in the conversations. Besides, she had to consider certain things.

Of course, she, unfortunately, did not have enough time to think over anything because the mail suddenly swept through the Great Hall, letters upon letters dropping down to the students. Sitting back and watching, she smiled as she noticed that not one student was left out; everyone received letters, either from friends, family or loved ones, and there was not one unsmiling face left in the crowd.

This was the whole point, she thought to herself; let the students receive the anonymous letter, let them feel the joy of being complimented, of knowing that someone out there cared, and then let them feel horror the next day when they find out just who had sent which letter.

Squeals of joy erupted from nearly every girl in the hall, and she rubbed her temples, having only been half prepared for the sounds of excitement.

"Hermione, are you going to open yours?" Ginny prodded from beside the brunette, having already torn through half of her cards. Hermione was pretty sure that a good number of them were from Harry.

Looking down at the small packet in front of her, she was pleased and yet slightly envious that her stack was considerably smaller than Ginny's. But, she reminded herself as she opened the first card, it would be silly to feel envious.

"I suppose I should," she admitted, reading over the first letter, snorting rather loudly. "Obviously, this was sent from someone incredibly illiterate."

"What do you mean?"

Shoving the letter under Ginny's nose, the girl burst into laughter at the horrendous grammar, spelling, and bad comparisons of Hermione to the oddest of objects. It was flattering yet irritating to read. A few others were similar, although some were slightly better written than others.

Sliding out the last letter, having shoved most into her bag to be dealt with later, she broke the seal and unfolded the pages. Arching a brow, she read through the text:

Hermione,

I know that I haven't always been the best person. I know that I can be a real prat at times and that we've been through rough patches, but we've always come out together. I've known for as long as I can remember that we've belonged together, even thought I never really showed my feelings.

I want you to know that I love, Hermione, and that we belong together. We are like two parts of a whole, two pieces that just fit, and I want to be with you. Please, Hermione, tell me you want to be with me, because I can't spend the rest of my life without you.

Meet me tonight, at eleven, on the seventh floor corridor by the main stairs, and we can sort things out. Please. I don't want to lose you.

Frowning at the text, she debated over whether or not it was just overly corny or true and from a sensitive source. Lifting her eyes, she looked over the Great Hall, wondering just who had the audacity to disobey school rules and which Prefect had neglected their duties long enough for this letter to go through. She wondered briefly if it had been from Draco, but she knew that he was aware about her feelings for Valentine's Day and that she was incredibly vigilant when it came to rules.

So, that just meant almost anyone in the remaining student population could be to blame for this letter.

Slipping it into her bag with the others, she debated over whether or not she would meet with the writer, just to dock off points and punish the student for disobeying the rules. Besides, it was impossible that it could have been from Ron; he wrote like a five-year-old and the script was far too well written, grammatically correct, with too nice of a handwriting for it to belong to the redhead.

She was on duty that night anyway…so who was to stop her from investigating the seventh floor and making sure that no students were hiding among the passages and alcoves? Certainly, it wasn't like she was seeking out the writer; she was simply performing her duties as Head girl.

Nodding to herself, she went back to enjoying the meal and dealing with the following chaos that was every Third year and up preparing for Hogsmeade.

Hermione Granger may dislike Valentine's Day and what it stood for, but Draco Malfoy basked in its glow. He nearly pranced around, enjoying every letter he received, his ego increasing tenfold with each carefully written text, every little poem and note that showed great admiration for the man.

While he used to receive more, he had to admit that recent happenings, including his involvement in the war and participating in the Gryffindor New Year's only helped instead of injured his reputation.

He felt strong and respected when he ordered the students about, enjoying the way they filed into lines and listened to his every word. He couldn't help but smile at a small gaggle of Third years who were giggling and blushing brightly at they gaped at him.

Quickly enough, every student with permission was moved to Hogsmeade and he was enjoying his day with Blaise, telling Hermione that he needed some man-to-man time with his friend, concluding that she didn't necessarily engage in the daily activities and would probably be too busy verifying that no student was breaking the rules.

Luna had promptly dragged the girl away and Draco couldn't help but fear for her safety.

"So, mate, what's on your mind?"

Looking over to his friend in the bookstore they were hiding in, Draco sighed and glanced back to the titles before him.

"I have no bloody clue what to do for Hermione today," he whispered back, praying that no prying ears were near. "She's doesn't like all of this crap. Then again, I'm not a huge fan of it too, but it's fun nonetheless."

Nodding slowly in understanding, Blaise flipped open a nearby magazine under the pretence of looking over the text.

"Luna loves Valentine's Day; although her view of it is a bit different; she started babbling about Snarkle horns or tails and Ingus snouts and something about Tierfly wings…to be honest, I'm just sticking to the usual chocolate box and a few well chosen words."

"Hermione's not even like that, she's more…" Draco paused, heard slowly turning until he faced his friend. Blinking once, twice, and then a third time, his mouth hung open, making him look like a rather stunned, pale fish. Suddenly, with a loud intake of breath, his eyes bugged, mouth fell wider and a strange gargling sound escaped his lips. "L…L…Luna…? Chocolates…? What the bloody hell are you talking about?" he shouted, dropping a rather heavy book on his foot, resulting in a loud string of curses.

"Shut your mouth," Blaise hissed, slapping his hand over his friend's mouth, apologizing to the owner of the shop when she hurried over at the sound of shouting. Once the woman was gone, Blaise turned to glare at his friend. "Bloody hell," he hissed, "don't you know the meaning of being quiet?"

"Donfft fyu fink fyu," Draco attempted, stopping mid sentence to dig his teeth into his friend's hand, resulting in a cry of pain from Blaise as he released his hand. "Fuck," Draco cursed, elbowing his friend in the stomach for good measure. "Don't you think you should've told me?"

"I didn't think it was that important," Blaise replied, blowing on his hand as though it might ease the pain. "Hell, you were too busy with your own stuff."

"But fuck," Draco muttered. "Hell…you and Loony Lovegood? I never saw that coming."

"I don't think anyone did," Blaise answered, now moving to rub his aching stomach. "Bloody hell, did you have to elbow me in the stomach? Did you really find it necessary?'

"Yes, I did; you were trying to asphyxiate me," Draco responded sharply, bending over to pick up the damn, injury-causing book from the floor and thrust it unceremoniously onto a shelf.

"I was not," Blaise hissed back, digging his knuckles into Draco's left kidney in response. "In fact, you just tried to cause me internal damage."

"Oh sod off and explain. You plus Loony Lovegood equals eternal love…that just does not equate in my normal, sane mind."

"I thought that you had your own issue to deal with," the dark-haired boy said, moving them to a darker, further corner of the bookstore as a group of students walked into the store, talking loudly about looking on books of love, romance, and finding the perfect man. Draco was briefly tempted to stay and listen once his name popped up, but Blaise grabbed hold of his sleeve and kept dragging the boy.

"Look," Blaise once he had managed to find a secluded corner, "how about this? We figure out what to do with you and Hermione, and tomorrow I'll spend the entire afternoon telling you about Luna and me?'

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Draco swung his hips slightly, frowning at his friend, debating over whether or not his friend was trying to delay the inevitable.

"I suppose I have no choice," the blond grumbled, picking up a nearby book to examine the hardcover.

"So, Draco, tell me all of your life woes and I shall help you fix them," Blaise said with a rather silly grin, wrapping his arm over Draco's shoulders in a brotherly embrace.

Rolling his eyes, Draco nudged his friend in the ribs and, without waiting for the black-haired man to regain his breath, he began to explain his current situation.

"This was such a wonderful idea, Hermione," Luna's wistful, singsong voice filtered through the air, almost dancing. "Everyone looks so happy."

Hermione glanced to her friend from where she had been looking at a packet of moving, talking Sour Patch kids, and couldn't help but blush faintly at the compliment.

"Thank you, but it was thanks to everyone's collaboration that this took flight," she replied, moving back to stare the sour candies, wondering just who might be sadistic enough to eat talking, moving, miniature people. At least in the Muggle version it was just candy, it didn't move. "This is just disturbing."

"Ginny told me that when you showed George a whole bunch of the Muggle candies you have, he had to turn some into magical candies," Luna answered, moving over to Hermione.

"I always knew that George had a slightly twisted mind," Hermione said on a laugh, moving over to stare at numerous other sweets that had been purchased from the Weasleys Wizard Wheezes and set up for sale at Honeydukes.

"I wonder if Blaise might like lemon drops," Luna said softly, staring at said confection. "He does have a rather liking for lemon flavoured candies."

Staring at the blonde, Hermione frowned at the girl for a moment and curiously voiced her wonder over why Luna would be considering buying Blaise candy.

"Oh, well, you see, I didn't really think it was all that important, but we've been seeing each other for a little while."

Gawking at her friend, Hermione took one fateful step back, promptly slid on snow and landed harshly on her bottom, bringing down an entire shelf of Jelly Slugs, which escaped from their container and began slithering across the floor as well as Hermione.

Grumbling and cursing, with a quick wave of her wand, the candies were promptly cleaned, stored back into their containers, and, with the shelf magically put back in place, returned to their spot. After muttering several quick apologies to the owner, she promptly pulled Luna over to another, quieter spot of the shop.

"You and Blaise?" she choked out, keeping her voice down. "When the bloody hell did this happen?"

"Probably about October," Luna answered, looking over at a stack of Sugar Quills. "I think he might like Sugar Quills, he likes really sweet candies. That with lemon drops and I think he'll be quite happy."

Rubbing her face, Hermione groaned inwardly, wondering just when the world went topsy turvy. Probably the moment Voldemort had been vanquished and the entire population had learnt that Draco Malfoy had not only aided the Order, but had been detrimental to the snake-man's destruction.

Fortunately, Hermione, unlike Draco, did not necessarily dwell on the details of how they came to be. If she wanted to know, she would, but she could only assume that they somehow found common ground and had probably, through the strangest circumstances, begun seeing each other.

All that mattered to her was one very important thing.

"Are you happy?"

"Oh yes, very," the blonde answered, picking up several Sugar Quills. "To be honest, I never really much of Blaise except that he was very gorgeous. But…he is quite charming and," Luna let out a soft sigh, "he makes me happy. We love and respect each other, and that's the basis of a good relationship. Like you and Draco."

The blush promptly returned to her cheeks, but Hermione did not spend much time stemming the blood flow to her face for she was too busy smiling at the younger girl.

"Exactly."

Luna waltzed over to the lemon drops and picked up several packets, twirling her hips to some unheard music that always seemed to remain within the mind of Luna Lovegood. Hermione, at times, wished that she could have such a carefree, light attitude like her friend, but she knew that she would probably go mental after a short while.

"What are you and Draco doing for Valentine's Day?" the blonde asked as she went up to the counter to pay.

Shrugging her shoulders, Hermione poked at a Chocolate Frog packet. "He knows I don't really care for Valentine's Day and all of its shebang, so I'll assume that we are not doing anything special."

"Oh, but you should."

Hermione frowned at her friend, watching as the girl paid for her purchases and they walked out of the store – well, Luna seemed to always dance when walking, but they walked nonetheless. They walked some way down Hogsmeade's main road before Hermione asked her friend why.

"Well, isn't it obvious? It's a day for couples, isn't it? You two are a couple, so you should spend time together."

"But I already said that I don't need any special day," Hermione sighed, tying back her hair against the ruthless wind that ceaselessly caused innumerable knots in her tresses.

"Why not pretend that it's just like any other day?"

Stopping in her steps, one hand grasping her hair, Hermione stared after Luna. "What do you mean?"

Spinning around on the spot, bag tapping against her knee, Luna smiled knowingly at the brunette. "You said you don't need any special day, you find buying all of this merchandise silly, well, why don't you pretend that it's just a normal day? That way, you won't be giving into the Valentine's hubbub and you two can enjoy the day either way."

Gnawing on her lip, Hermione fidgeted with the hem of her jacket sleeves, debating quietly over Luna's words. She made sense; if they just pretended it was any other day, if they didn't give into the Valentine's Day requirements, then she could still spend quality time with Draco without feeling like she was giving into the over-commercialized holiday.

"I suppose it makes sense," she said after a moment, moving back to finish tying her hair.

"So, on this normal, plain, boring day, are you doing anything special with him?" Luna asked, leading the way to the Three Broomsticks.

Chuckling, Hermione hurried to catch up to her, wondering the exact same thing as her blonde friend.

Supper was filled with excited talk and chatter, the soup a shade of red, many of the buns and breads dyed pink or red for the holiday. The students had been behaved quite well throughout the day, Hermione had only been forced to punish a few who had tried to sneak into inn rooms, but, aside from it, she had enjoyed her day.

Now, however, at eleven o'clock felt a lot closer than before, she couldn't help but feel tension tightening her stomach. It made her feel somewhat nauseous and reluctant to eat, but the relaxing day managed to give her enough strength to feed herself. She couldn't help but think that if she hadn't enjoyed her day, if things had not turned out the way they had, she would probably be picking at her soup right now, reluctant to eat, talk or do anything remotely enjoyable.

Once supper was finished, she talked briefly with Ginny over the girl's plans to attack and seduce Harry that night, which resulted in Hermione laughing and trying her hardest to remove the foul images from her mind. By the time she reached the Head's dorm, she was feeling more relaxed than at supper and smiling once more. But the nagging sensation was still there, the feeling that things were not all right with the world was still at the back of her mind.

She couldn't place the feeling, couldn't place the anxiety or tension, wasn't exactly sure why she felt it, but it was there and it wouldn't leave, no matter how much she laughed, ate, relaxed or smiled. It was still there and still pestering her.

She found the living area to be empty and wondered curiously whether or not she had actually seen Draco leave at dinner. Then again, he assumed that they weren't doing anything special, so he was probably enjoying some man-to-man time with Blaise.

Trudging up to her room, she quickly changed into more comfortable clothes and made her way downstairs to collapse on the sofa with a good book and wait for ten o'clock when she would start her rounds.

About halfway through the first chapter, having reread the same page a good dozen times over, her thoughts having shifted back to the situation with the letter, she was rather startled when a head appeared beside her shoulder.

Letting out a loud shriek, she lifted the book in response, smacking the person in the face before falling off of the couch, fumbling for her wand on the coffee table. Heart hammering, the pointed her wand at the offender and was quite embarrassed to realized that the face belonged to Draco.

Who was currently stemming the blood flow from his nose and cursing rather colourfully under his breath.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry Draco!" she cried, leaping to her feet and rushing to the kitchen for some paper towels. "Bloody hell, I didn't know it was you!"

"I think I got that," he muttered, holding his nose tightly, "when you hit me with the bloody book."

Handing him the towel, she watched as he pressed it against his nose, and leant forward, examining the bridge.

"At least I didn't break it," she said, lifting her wand to press it gently against the slightly bruised flesh. Muttering a quiet incantation, the bruises faded rapidly and the blood flow quickly ceased. "I honestly had no clue that it was you."

"Who else has access to the Head's dorm?" he said with a grimace, scrunching up the paper towels and tossing them into the nearby garbage. "Bloody hell Hermione, sometimes you don't think straight."

"Well, hell, you bloody well scared me!" she huffed loudly, moving back to the sofa to pick up her book, quietly pleased that his blood had not gotten on the pages. "Next time let me know you're here before just shoving your face beside mine like that."

"I did," he said rather snappishly. "I called out your name three times and you just ignored me."

"It doesn't mean you have to scare me," she muttered, rubbing the corners of her eyes.

"I thought it might get your attention because obviously something else had it."

"Oh, bugger off," she mumbled, pocketing her wand.

Draco moved over to her, leaning over the couch as she sat back down on it, watching as she pulled back open her book and began the process of rereading the same page for the thirteenth time. "So, what exactly had you so…distracted that you didn't hear my sexy voice?"

Swallowing thickly, she felt her heart hammering in her chest as anxiety washed over her. She should tell him about the letter, but, at the same time, she knew that he would do nothing short of overreact to the situation and demand that he go and investigate. She was torn between being honest and keeping it a secret for his sake. The man had enough on his plate as it is; he didn't need to know about a letter that was most definitely written by some idiot sixth or seventh year who wanted to pull a prank.

It wouldn't take long, she reminded herself. She would sneak up, immobilize them and remove points for being out of bed after hours and for disobeying the rules set up for Valentine's Day.

No need to worry Draco about it, she reasoned, nodding inwardly.

Then why didn't the nagging sensation go away?

"The book is fascinating," she replied calmly, sending a smirk his way, "far more fascinating than your supposed sexy voice."

"Oh, now I know you're lying about that," he said, moving around the couch to sit beside her. "I know that the sound of my voice makes you go crazy."

Turning the page, she let out a soft snort. "Only because it's so bloody irritating every time you open your mouth."

Leaning over, he resisted the urge to toss her book away and instead indulged her. He let her keep the book and pressed his lips on the little section of bare flesh behind her ear.

"How about we make a little bet?"

She fought back a wave of shivers at the feel of his tongue tracing her warming skin, trying her hardest to focus on the words of the book.

"You know I don't gamble."

He chuckled softly, the rumbling sound of his voice making her heart hammer wildly in her chest. His scent, the autumn rain, the spicy, male musk, clung to her, drifting into her body and soaking into her pores. It warmed her flesh and made her nerve endings burst into small flames of desire. She wanted to groan, but she didn't. She was resilient; she would hold back and stay true to her word.

"Wouldn't you say that being with me is like gambling?" he replied softly, letting his lips hover just over the shell of her ear.

"Yes, well, you're a risk I'm willing to take, aren't I?" she answered, tossing her book away to pull him into a heated kiss. Damn it all to hell, Draco was right; his voice was most definitely more interesting than Hogwarts: A History.

Soon enough, clothes were quickly discarded, tossed in random locations throughout the Common Room, and they rolled onto the floor with a loud thud, Hermione rising up above him like a siren in the waves. Her hair fell, cascading down her back in wild, untamed curls as she slid over and around him, taking him deep inside of her tight, wet heat, listening to his enticing voice as he murmured carnal desires to her.

His hands gripped her hips, nails digging into the flushed flesh as she rode him, gasping for air as she tightened around him, convulsing when the first wave hit and dragged her under.

"Fuck, Hermione," he hissed, sliding a hand up to cup a sweet breast, playing with the pink nub that he yearned to kiss and suckle.

"Draco," she breathed, twisting her hips harder, uncaring that her knees burned from the carpet. All that mattered was that he was deep inside of her, touching every part of her body, filling her in a way no one had ever been able to fill her. It wasn't just a physical fulfillment, but an emotional one. He touched every little part of her, inside and out, and completed her.

Sweat sluiced down their intertwining bodies, their movements growing more erratic as their words became slurred. Their hearts beat in the same wild rhythms, their scents mingling in the air, dancing and intertwining to create the heated, musky scent of sex that filled the air. Time and again she was pulled under each cresting wave, her cries growing wilder and higher, until he pulled her down in a heated kiss, where tongues battled for dominance and teeth tugged and pulled.

It was then that they rose to a crescendo, the wave pulled her and he followed quickly, holding on tightly as he filled her, groaning her name into her mouth as she whimpered loudly against his lips. They lay, fallen and exhausted, in each other's arms, allowing all of the day's worries and concern to be washed away by the waves of pleasure.

Some time later, as Hermione walked through the halls of Hogwarts, her mind was still slightly fuzzy from the aftermath of their love making. Her body still tingled and a part of her brain remained unusable because it was still caught up in the high. Even after rushing out of the Head's dorm, having fallen asleep in the blond's arms, did not pull her far enough down from her high.

Now she walked through the halls, silently admiring the arched corridors and stone structure, feeling more content than ever. She still smelt him on her, his scent covered her body, and she couldn't help but hug her torso and twirl on the spot in an uncharacteristically girlish fashion.

Damn it all to hell, damn the students who walked the corridors, damn them and their silly thoughts; she loved Draco Malfoy and, before the year was up, she would let them know.

It was ten to eleven when her brain finally returned to normal functioning and she found herself hurrying to the seventh floor corridor, having nearly forgotten about the meeting with the unknown student. She would have to make it quick; rounds were due to end by eleven thirty and she had promised Draco that they would sit together and reveal the authors of their Valentine Cards and laugh.

She was quite certain that Millicent Bulstrode had sent him one.

Huffing for air, she reached the top of the final flight of stairs to the seventh floor corridor at eleven on the dot. Pausing on the last landing before the final flight at the moving staircases, she took a moment to breathe and compose herself; she needed to be focused and attentive if she wanted to catch the student off guard and punish them. Panting for air like a runner after a marathon would only remove the façade.

Raising her wand, she brushed her hair out of her face and made her way up the stairs, ready to face whichever student had decided they had the right to disobey the rules. Her wand faintly illuminated the hall and she narrowed her eyes, trying to see through the shadows just which student decided to hide out and pull this little prank.

She was quite surprised, and feeling rather foolish, to see a certain red-haired, freckle faced man come out of the shadows.

"Ronald Weasley," she hissed, fingers tightening around her wand, "what are you doing out of bed after hours?"

The red head crossed his arms and gave her a hard look. "Isn't it obvious by the letter I sent you?" he huffed, almost as though he expected better from her.

Glaring at the redhead, she realized that she should had thought a little more through the situation; it would make sense that only a Prefect would have sent her the letter; it was the only way it would have gotten through the system and into the mail. Of course, she had been too blind to assume that Ron would have sent it; she didn't expect it, didn't think he would have the gall to do something like such, and the thought had never once crossed her mind.

Now, at the moment in time when she should feel an inkling of fear, she felt more infuriated that the Prefect had ignored the rules and made a fool of her intelligence; she should have known.

"Yes, well, I feel I must dock off points from Gryffindor because you are both out of bed and disobeyed the rules," she replied, keeping her wand raised. She had promised that she wouldn't stay alone with Ron, she had promised Draco that, no matter what, and she would not let herself get cornered. She had to remain vigilant and get this discussion finished as fast as possible.

"I don't care if you knock off points," Ron replied softly. "But please…just listen me out."

"Ronald, I've done a lot of listening recently, and honestly, I don't really care for much that you've been saying," she retorted sharply. She wanted this done and over with, couldn't he understand that?

His eyes glowed strangely in the faint shadows, an odd glimmer that she had only seen there a few other times. Need, yearning, desperation…they all shone in the aching blue eyes, along with something else, another thing she just could not pinpoint at the moment. But they ached, they pained her so much that it made her heart tug and she was reminded sharply of the Ron she used to know. The Ron who used to stand up for them, the one who would laugh and accept them, the one who would defend her and love her, the Ron who had lost so much.

"Hermione," he said quietly, almost begging, "please…just a minute. I just want to talk, I…I know I've been a git recently, and I haven't really been there a lot. I just…I want to explain, to apologize."

She wanted to cross her arms, to relax, but something told her not to let her guard down for any moment. If she needed an escape, she had the stairs right behind her and her wand at ready. Hopefully, it wouldn't come down to that, but, considering Ron's recent actions, she wasn't exactly certain what might happen.

Sighing, she blinked once before raising her gaze to meet Ron's. "I can only give you five minutes, Ron, but no more; I have duties to attend to. So…please, continue."

"I want to say I'm sorry, Hermione." He took a step forward and she involuntarily took one back. She wanted to keep her distance, no matter what. It pained her; it hurt to see the pain in her friend's eyes, but she had to admit she felt safer with the distance. "I…I haven't exactly been the nicest bloke lately and I feel like it's pushing you away. So, I'm sorry. I just…bloody hell, Hermione; I just can't get you out of my head. I know I didn't realize it back then, I was just some idiot who couldn't see past my own ego, but, hell, I see it now. I can't stop thinking about you, I can't…Hermione, I love you."

He took another step forward and she took another back, again…distance. Distance kept her safe…distance kept him safe.

"I should have realized it sooner, but I was a prat. I love you, Hermione, and I know that we're made for each other. I just know it!" His voice rose with conviction, fist pumping the air at his side for emphasis. "You're just so beautiful, so nice, so bloody smart…I can't get out of my head. And your smell…bloody amazing…you smell so good," he ended on a groan, closing his eyes as though reliving a memory.

"Ron," she began gently, "I'm…I'm flattered that you feel this way." Another step. "But, I'm afraid that you've waited too long. Maybe…maybe it you had told me this a year or two ago, maybe I would try, but it's too late."

"It's not too late!" he shouted, fists clenching at his side as he took two steps forward, she two back.

They were on the landing now; safety lay just a couple steps behind her. She could run, could spin around and run away from the man who used to be her friend, but the compassion for him, the love, made her stay and listen to the tortured man argue.

"Hermione! I know…I know I've waited so long. Please, I love you…and I know you love me, you must. You have to love me. We're meant to be together, I just know it. It's not too late; it'll never be too late. Please, Hermione, just try, just try being with me. You'll see, you'll realize it. We're supposed to be together!" he pleaded, eyes tearing up as she stepped further away from him. His heart was breaking, his lungs were aching, and he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms. He couldn't lose her…he'd lost so many people, so many loved ones…he couldn't lose her too.

Her heart was bleeding, she realized as tears formed in her eyes. Her heart bled for the pain her friend was suffering, and yet it beat painfully fast as panic began to slowly set in. How was she supposed to respond to this? Did he just expect her to jump into his arms and sob out that she loved him?

She didn't…she didn't love him, and it hurt him so much. It hurt her, it hurt to hurt the person that had been her best friend for seven years, to hurt the man she once loved. But it hurt even more to see the lost look in his eyes, to see that the Ron she used to know what slowly fading away.

"Ron…I'm sorry."

"Don't say that!" he shouted. "Don't fucking say that! Just say you love me! Say that you'll stay with me! We are soul mates, we're meant to be together! Don't you see it, Hermione? Open your eyes and see it!"

"My eyes are open Ron," she answered quietly, knowing that shouting would do no good no matter how much she wanted to. "And I'm sorry but I don't return the feelings." Swallowing thickly as he took several steps forward, closing in the distance between them, she took another step back, keeping her wand gripped tightly in her hand. "I'm sorry Ron, but…"

"Shut up! Shut up! Just…just…just fucking kiss me!" he cried, panic rising in his voice, laced with anger. His hands waved erratically and she shifted back. "Kiss me and you'll see! You'll see what I mean. You'll realize that we are meant to be together!" He reached out, hands open to grasp onto her and pull her into a kiss.

She stepped back once more, intending to escape his grip, and her feet found not solid ground. Suddenly, she was falling and no one would be able to catch her.

Cliffy!!

I've had the ending of this chapter in my mind for SO LONG!!! I'm so glad that I've finally been able to write it out.

Now, I know I brought up the issue of Blaise and Luna in this chapter, but it was more for a bit of fun filler that I thought might bring some minor comic relief or enjoyment to the chapter.

The smutty scene with Hermione and Draco was unintended but I liked it and went with it.

Now, what will happen to Hermione in the next chapter? Who knows? What will happen with Ron?

So many questions! So little time to write up the next chapter, but I will do my best!!!!!

I've also begun working on a darker fic (only to be posted when halfway done). Basically, it's a world where the war has gone on longer than expected and the world has been shattered, broken and darkened by death and war.

It will be a Dramione.

Anyway, here's today's recipe!

Key Lime Cake II, by "Kaye Frickhoeffer"

Found on: allrecipes(dot)com (I used my iPhone app, which was free)

Ingredients

1 (18.25 ounce) package lemon cake mix 1 (3 ounce) package instant lemon pudding mix ¾ cup water ½ cup vegetable oil

4 eggs 5 tablespoons key lime juice

1 ½ cups confectioners' sugar 3 tablespoons key lime juice

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 celcius). Lightly grease one 9x13 inch cake pan or one 10" Bundt pan.

2. In a large bowl stir together: lemon cake mix, lemon instant pudding, water, oil, eggs and the 5 tablespoons of key lime juice, mixing well. Pour batter into prepared pan.

3. Bake for 45 minutes. Pour key lime glaze over cake while warm.

Glaze: mix together confectioner's sugar and the 3 tablespoons of key lime juice (or more if necessary) and spoon glaze over warm cake.

Some Changes:

One reviewer used a white cake mix instead of lemon, and 2 more tablespoons of key lime juice and 3 drops of green food colouring. It gave it more of a key lime taste.

Another added chopped pecans, and the glaze was: ½ stick butter, ½ cup sugar, ¼ cup fresh key lime juice boiled for 4-5 minutes and drizzled over cake.

Suggestion: definitely use glaze while cake is warm and let it sit for some time to let the glaze soak in, add flavour and make the cake moister.

I hope that you all enjoyed the chapter and thank you for reading/reviewing.

Take care everyone!