Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Draco's little poem is my own, so do not steal. But if you do I'll be flattered. Lol. The M rating really kicks in the next two chapters, so I hope you are ready. This is the last bit of fluff for a while.

Draco frowned at his words. That was not what he had meant to write. He had been attempting to write a truth. But only silly words escaped his quill and faltered these ephemeral thoughts. Hey, that sounded kind of appealing, 'only silly words escaped his quill and faltered these ephemeral thoughts'

He was no poet.

He groaned and set the quill down, turning in his chair to see the vision in his bed. Like static she flicked, for a moment she was there, another she was gone. Her hair splayed across his pillow, her sent owned all of his items. Draco cleaned away all of his papers and ink. He had decided that if Hermione could write a memoir for him, he could do the same for her. Or at least he would attempt to.

There was nothing eloquent about Draco's writing. His words fell short of what he felt; he could not write his sentiments. If it failed, at least he could tell Hermione what he confined inside with his lips and tongue.

Her words still echoed behind his eyes. Nothing was fine In fact; things were perfectly sour due to her confession. But he wouldn't lose her for such things. Not to say that these were trivial things, but perhaps pretended to be so in comparison to her desired company.

It was not for Draco to assume Hermione's involvements. Or to judge her, not until he had received the whole truth. Until then, he would have to reserve his nagging doubts and troubled thoughts. He had promised to listen to her, this was a promise that he could not take back. He was too far involved, to close to betray her now.

He cared for Hermione, perhaps more than he would ever let on. But at least he knew it to be true. Her compassion and strength emasculated and shamed him. But left him with a sense of awe.

Someday, they would be able to live peacefully with the knowledge that they had accepted their pasts. Together or apart, it did not matter, for Draco knew no matter where Hermione was he would have that little bit of her.

Draco could still not believe he had blurted his pain out so carelessly to Hermione. He had expected her to mock him, to ask if that was all. To make his pain miniscule beside hers. But she had done none of those things. She understood him and said nothing. She simply held him, which was enough.

Draco stood and walked over to the chaise. He had prepared a make-shift bed for himself upon the small couch. He sat down on it and sighed, rubbing his face tiredly.

"Come here" Hermione whispered from the bed. He looked up to see her lifting the sheet for him to climb in with her.

Her eyes were heavy lidded and sleepy, but she as awake as she had ever been. Awake to every possible notion and emotion.

Questioning naught, he entered his orchid's petals.

The morning mood was impossibly dense. There was still an air of unease surrounding both of them. No, neither had given up. But nothing was better; such matters did not simply disappear. You could not change the channel and watch a comedy. Instead, there was a battle ahead for freedom. Hermione's words could not be taken back, Draco's actions could not be excused, there was only forward at this point.

Hermione ate her muffin and Draco chewed his apple in thoughtful silence. "I have to go for a session" Hermione said standing and leaving her half eaten muffin on her plate.

"I thought you didn't get one for another three days?" Draco asked in confusion, his mouth hanging open and apple juice threatening to spill from his lips.

"Yes, but that one is done by a specialist. This is just another simple session with my favorite healer" Hermione sighed rolling her eyes. Her fingers touched his chin and pushed his mouth closed.

Draco nodded in understanding, "I guess I'll see you later" he said gently removing her fingers from her face.

Hermione nodded awkwardly. She wanted to kiss him, but she didn't think it was such a good idea at the moment. So she placed her hand reassuringly on his head, letting her fingers smooth his fine blonde hair. "Yeah"

The walk to Healer Roberts office was long and languid. Hermione's unfocused many times before she reached his door. She simply did not have it in her for this meeting. There was no fight left, for what was there to fight about? She knocked on the door lightly.

"Enter"

"Hello" Hermione said lamely as she entered and closed the door behind her.

Dr. Roberts looked confused at her unusual attitude. Usually she entered the room cursing her lips off and cheeks blazing with an untamable fire. Today, she was insipid, inside and out. She sat heavily in the chair across from his desk and her eyes fell to the floor.

"How are you this morning?" he asked leaning closer to her. He was truly confused by the sight before his eyes, what had changed in a mere day and a half?

"Fine" Hermione replied shortly.

"Fine?" he asked in bewilderment.

"Where's your clipboard?" Hermione asked drowsily. Failing profusely at an attempt to change the subject. His magic clipboard copied down all of Hermione words so that he could later analyze them, or rather attempt to sell them to papers.

"I've decided to give it a break, I though we could simply talk today. Just you and I, none of that pressure from the committee to figure things out" he replied honestly.

Hermione nodded, "What do you want to start with?"

"Perhaps with why you look and sound so morose this morning" Roberts said leaning back in his chair. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned deeply.

"I told the truth" Hermione said tersely.

Roberts sat up quickly in surprise. A breakthrough, "Who did you tell?" he asked anxiously.

"Draco Malfoy" Hermione said softly, still in disbelief herself. The words sounded foreign on her tongue, "I told Draco Malfoy some of the truth"

"Only some?" Roberts asked.

"Yeah, accidentally. It was such a bombshell, but the words slipped past my lips before I could censor them. I hurt us both by doing it, but I can't imagine what would have happened if I had said nothing. I'm writing him a memoir, so he can read about everything if he chooses to" Hermione smiled despite herself. It sounded so silly to write everything when she could tell him. But she had to remind herself, that Hermione was writing her story for herself first, and for him second.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea Hermione. I'm sure he will appreciate it, as will you. And I'm glad you're being so honest with me" he said sincerely. All he hoped for was her recovery and exit from the dreadful place the hospice had become. And she was finally making progress, no thanks to him, but progress nonetheless. He wondered why Draco Malfoy was so important to her. And what truth could she have told him that would hurt them both?

Hermione shrugged, "I figured why not? I really don't have much more to lose, do I?" she asked sadly.

"Hermione, what have you lost?" Roberts asked shaking his head.

"I've lost friends over the whole ordeal. And not because of the things I've done or said. But because of the things they haven't done or said" she said evenly.

Roberts shook his head "They will come around; you have nothing to lose, but everything to gain. You will get your life back; these memories will release you when you hand them to someone else. And it seems Mr. Malfoy is an important person in your life" Roberts said knowledgably.

Boy, he didn't know the half of it. Hermione nodded silently. She pursed her lips and considered what the healer had said. Draco Malfoy was an important person in her life. He was the only person who pushed her to come to a conclusion for her own good. Where as others had simply terrorized her for their own gain, Draco had nothing to gain by pissing her off. He did it for her; such an act of selfishness from him was startling. She smiled to herself just thinking about him.

She cared about him. Perhaps more than she would ever let on. No other person had ever been so kind to her. He was hurting her for her own good. He was willing to let her go in order for her to realize herself. Hermione could have lost Draco last night, and they both knew it. But they remained. If he could deal with the first hurdle to come his way, he would be able to handle the rest.

Hermione ran. No. She sprinted as she had never before in her life. She dared not look at her watch for fear of loosing time or papers. She could hear cracks come about from all over, most came from the front of the Manor. Blurs of figures swam past her.

She lost no time, hurdling herself through the passage of tree's Hermione dared not stop. Instead she ran for as long as she could manage. The branches tearing at her, attempting to slow her down, the darkness closed in the view around her. Hermione finally stopped and fell upon a tree stump. She had run straight for fifteen minuets. She could not see the Manor lights through the trees. She must have been far enough.

Gasping loudly, Hermione clutched her stomach. Cramps, her legs had cramped as well. This was the most exercise she had received in weeks. She gently stretched her legs but the pain would not subside. And what now? Where to go now?

She had run straight, so she was north…north of what? Malfoy Manor was unplottable. How on earth was she to know where she was…Kensington? Malfoy had talked of Kensington being the closest place for militia.

But where was Malfoy Manor in regards to Kensington? Hermione groaned loudly and placed her head in her hands. She had had so little time to plan. And there were no maps about Malfoy Manor. So she had no idea where she was. If it wasn't for the dismal weather, she would have questioned if she was in England or not.

And so it began to rain.

Hermione packed it all back up into her chest and hauled ass. She simply began walking north. She would have to hit something eventually, preferably sooner than later.

Back at the Manor, Lucius Malfoy was cracking.

Hermione placed away this sheet of paper too. Knowing that the last chapter would be the worst. The horrors she had live up until her escape were nothing compared to what came next, and the gravity of what she had actually done.

She wiped her eyes and leaned back in Draco's chair. He was doing his own little therapy meeting. Just three days, then she would be out. It seemed weird to even consider being else where from this place. This had basically been her home since the end of the war. Hermione assumed she would remain living with her parents until she received her Hogwarts credentials. She had never completed her seventh year, none of them had. So they would all be returning to do so. Then she could consider finding a place to live, a job…there was so much to consider.

Her eyes roamed over Draco's immaculate desk. He could have rivaled her for unhealthy neatness. She began to shift through his papers. It was wrong, and incredibly selfish of her, but Hermione could not stop herself. Most of his parchment was blank; others had little odd scribbles that she could not read. Letters, healers notes, government documents…

Her fingers ran across a used parchment, it was very long. She picked it up; it seemed to be a poem or something, untitled.

The door opened.

Hermione dropped the paper guiltily on to the desk. Reprimanding herself for even looking through his things.

"Hey" Draco said entering his room. He saw her staring at his desk and he followed her gaze to the paper. "Did you read it?" he asked nervously. He didn't really want her to see something so ugly and foolish, what would she think of him?

Hermione shook her head, "To be honest, I was planning to" she whispered in embarrassment. How shameful, going through his things. She had no right to.

"Don't worry about it, it just peaked your interest, besides I don't really need to hide this from you; it's important. Here" he said handing her the parchment back. He was frowning and biting his lower lip.

Her trembling fingers gripped it. He was giving her something important to him. Hermione folded the paper carefully. She would read it later. "Thank you" she smiled warmly.

Draco bent down and kissed her softly, his fingers on her jaw, "I can't express myself like you do, but I hope you appreciate it nonetheless"

"I will" Hermione grinned. The parchment was burning holes in her fingers. Causing her heart to beat erratically with excitement. It felt as though he had proposed.

"Let's get tea" Draco smiled brightly, easing the tension that had plagued them all morning. Hermione cracked into a wide smile herself, she took his hand and stuffed the parchment in her pocket.

"Lets" she agreed.

They sat on the veranda in the late evening, both holding their tea cups. Hermione was drinking earl gray, Draco's was peppermint. These silly thoughts ran through her mind. It was calming, it seemed right to only be thinking of stupid things. It left her relieved to let the darker thoughts remain behind.

All that was on Hermione's mind was the sent of sweet tea, Draco's cologne and the chirping of the birds all about them. The people talking about them set a wonderful hum in the background. This was the moment Hermione wanted to live fifty years from now.

To be sitting on a veranda, with tea in her hands and Draco beside her.

So she liked him more than she let on. Actually it was rather frightening how much she adored him. What courage, to call her out, and then to take her back. What kindness, compassion, even love she felt from him. But love was far off.

They had known each other but for a mere day.

Years had passed where they shared company, but Hermione had only learnt who the man beside her was yesterday. She had seen the torn soul that tormented himself for the death of a loved one; she had seen someone with bravery, and unfathomable heart.

Hermione leant against another tree. There were even greater pains plaguing her body now. It was dark; she could barely see her fingers in front of her eyes and rain poured down her bodyThe sounds of the woods were causing her heart to skip beats.

Still she continued, walking slowly, attempting to keep herself in a straight line. Wishing it was light, wishing she had her wand.

Snaps sounded about her. Hermione stopped and held her breath. She could not hear anything about her; the pounding in her chest had caused her ears to pop with the pressure. She could not hear anything but the gentle patter of rain upon leaves. If she was to die right now at the hands of a wolf, that would have been irony. But those snaps had sounded far more like apparition snaps. No, she was being paranoid.

The sound never returned and Hermione continued carefully, trying to make as little noise as she could.

Morning rose to find her slumped against a fallen tree. Upon opening her eyes Hermione realized she still did not know where she was. It all looked impossibly similar to when she had begun walking last night, trees and trees. What forest was this? Hermione picked herself up. Her clothing wet and muddy, her body starving for water and food.

Moving along Hermione made sure the papers were dry. It seemed they had been charmed to remain clean. She picked berries along her way. There had to be something ahead. There had to something, anything soon! For fatigue was setting in, and a flu was closing in about her.

Snap.

Hermione looked under her foot. No branch to be seen.

"Draco, will you laugh at me if I'm honest about something?" Hermione asked loosely.

Draco frowned deeply at her, "Well that was odd phrasing. No, I would never laugh at you for being honest with me" but he sensed that this was different; there was something Hermione actually wanted to say regarding him. Why else would she suspect him of laughing?

"I…" Hermione stopped here and grimaced "perhaps this isn't the time or place"

"Alright" Draco replied sipping his tea.

"What? That's it? You're not going to force it out of me?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"Well…the consequences of that last time were not so pretty, so I figure if what you have to say is important. You will eventually tell me" he shrugged.

Hermione nodded. He was wiser than he let on. But she had hoped he would force it out of her. It was not the kind of thing she could say on her own. Without clarification of his desire to hear it, or the acknowledgment that it was real.

"Do you love me?" he asked with a smile.

Hermione choked on her tea. "What?" she asked setting down her cup and wiping her dripping chin. That was not what she had been wanting to say, but it was something in the back of her mind.

"I asked if you loved me."

Hermione didn't reply.

"Should I take your silence as a timid yes, or a definite no?" he grinned.

Hermione glared at him "I don't just tell people I love them" she replied haughtily.

"No, that would be wrong, you have to actually mean it" Draco agreed with a nod.

"You have to know somebody very well, and for a very long time before you can come to love them" Hermione said wisely.

"I guess you don't believe in love at first sight" Draco asked casually.

"Why? Did you love me at first sight?" she teased.

"No, you were small, bushy, with large teeth. Not very lovable. And who says I loved you?" he teased in return.

"Oh nobody" Hermione replied somewhat sourly. What? Had she expected him to love her? No, she really hadn't. But she entertained the notion before sleep. Imagining what it would be to love and marry Draco, to have his children… "That would mean you'd have to be capable of love" Hermione smiled.

Draco laughed. "Fighting words there Granger. Fighting words. Let's say, if I hypothetically came to love you, after many more years of knowing you. Would you be able to return the affection?" he asked. The laugh had been lost in his question. It was a serious inquiry.

"Depends on when you come to love me. If I'm married with children, I'm afraid the affections will be sent back unopened" she replied honestly. Hermione's eyes averted his gaze; the topic was making her uncomfortable.

"And I can't love you now, because you don't know me very well" he clarified with a raised brow.

"Right" Hermione said.

"So technically, you won't fall in love with someone unless you have known them for eight years?" he asked.

"Why eight years?" Hermione frowned.

Draco shrugged.

She laughed, "Oh, I see what you are getting at. Stop toying with me Draco"

"I'm not toying with you at all" he replied seriously.

"Yes you are" Hermione replied coldly.

"Not at all"

"Then say it"

"Say what?"

"If you are not playing with me, say what you mean Draco"

"I don't think I can" he said sadly.

"Why not?" Hermione asked angrily, her teacup trembling on its saucer. Why was he leading her on, and then dropping her so coldly. It was confusing trying to understand what all of his hidden phrases meant.

"Because, I'm afraid my sentiments would be sent back to me unopened" he frowned sorrowfully, spitting her own words back at her.

Hermione felt as though someone had drenched her in cold water. Eight years, did he know her so well already?

"Eight years eh? Do you reckon that's enough to love?" she asked casually. Inside her heart was beating quickly, her palms sweating. There was an epic moment coming ahead.

"I think it's the beginnings of love" Draco amended.

"So…this, is the beginning of love?" Hermione asked with a sigh, dropping the hidden meanings and going straight for the meat.

"Yes"

"Well, I do hope this is the last time I ever have to fall in love, for it's quite a painful experience" she said lightly; lighter than she had intended.

"Men always hope to be a woman's first love, women always aim to be a man's last love" Draco quoted with a wry smile.

"Wilde" Hermione smiled "Too true".

"So I think I might love you" Draco said nonchalantly, he drank the rest of his tea in a single gulp. Hermione could see that the words meant more than how easily they had come out. He was practically quivering in his seat.

"I think I might love you too, but how do I know?" Hermione frowned. She worried that the conversation was far to light for such a heavy topic. It almost felt like a twisted comedy. Wasn't love supposed to be heartache, passion, wasn't it supposed to fling itself upon you unexpectedly? Sure there had been much heartache, very little passion, and oddly enough, this was not as large of a surprise as Hermione expected. Perhaps because she had been expecting it. Granted, Hermione hadn't been seeing this talk for quite a while more, but she knew it was to come eventually.

"Well, I suppose if we manage to survive each other's faults, hatreds, the fights that are sure to come, then we'll know it's love" Draco said thoughtfully.

"For now though?" Hermione said unsurely.

"Let's just say, right now our love is a noun, eventually it will be a verb" he explained grammatically. Hermione was impressed with his knowledge of grammar.

"You want our love to be an action?" she said, her lips tugging into a laugh.

"Yes, I want you to show me love, it is my demand" he said seriously, his face was as straight as death. "If you cannot show love everyday, in touch, words, simple actions, then it is not love. I should know you love me, simply by the way you pour my tea"

"Alright" Hermione said with a chuckle "I think I will read your poem now, and then I will turn my love into a verb" she said rolling her eyes. Hermione pulled the parchment out of her pocket, Draco watched her carefully all the while.

"Now take in mind, it's just something I scribbled down, it's not very good… don't be mad if it is horrid…"

"Draco, stop prattling and let me read" Hermione said reproachfully. His mouth shut tightly. He watched her unfold it and begin to read.

As she read the words he wrote, he could not speak.

She must have read it twice for it was a very short poem. Hermione looked up at him with an indiscernible look upon her face. "Oh Draco" she whispered looking back at the parchment "It's beautiful" he heard the splatter of tears upon paper.

"It is about you, so are you just being vain?" he asked lightly pushing her shoulder.

Hermione ignored his comment; she was reading the text again. "Do I really play with your heart that much?" she asked sadly.

"Everyday" he admitted "The first time you stepped on my heart was last year, when we were staking out Richards. It was dark, and you were complaining how you hadn't been kissed in ages. And I was trying to kiss you, but you turned away" he admitted.

Hermione looked like she was trying to remember the incident, "I'm sorry Draco, I had no idea. I thought you were simply teasing me again" she said in true apology.

"But everyday, you dance upon my heart. Play with me, and you have no idea. I know it's not fair to blame you, for you didn't know. But…last night, you tore me apart. And yet, even though I feel stretched to my limits, I feel so much better than I ever have before. It's weird Hermione. But I told you before, and you have to understand. Me seeing you everyday, and thinking about you when you're not around and especially being able to come back to you after what you told me…there's only one explanation for it. I care for you more than I care for your mistakes. And I think that it love. Being able to overlook the things that hurt you so deeply, only so you can see what lights your life" Draco explained looking down into his lap.

Hermione grabbed his face; she lifted and kissed him soundly on the mouth. "If you love me, I promise I'll love you…no matter how long it takes to get there, I'll be with you" she promised.

Draco laughed shakily, "I know. I know Hermione, and I believe you"

Untitled (Hermione)

"Her ivory fingers, sat on ivory knees, and drifted in a fitful fantasy.

And so sinks the summer day, where colours change like lovers wordplay.

Petals fall upon a scorched ground, all the discontentment they surround;

Rounded girdle and bright-eyed tall stem, an orchid sits beside me,

Does the nightingale die, for a lover's fleeting fancy?

Does love, and loves further lost,

Cover boughs with a timid frost?

The petals fall, for the cold, ruins their sweet gilded gold.

Only silly words escape the quill and falter these ephemeral thoughts,

The poison ink, the shattered vows, how the wicked parchment rots.

Allow your pretty ivory hands, which sit on a pretty ivory heart,

And dance upon it, lightly splayed and apart.

But for a flicker,

To sit still,

And warm the coming chill."