Draco spotted the shed which had been mentioned earlier. It was dusty and poorly-lit but after some spells he had made some significant improvements. The walls looked like flimsy tin from the outside, yet the inside showed solid brick.

Various trinkets collected over the years had been piled up in the corner, the grime cleaned away and a comfortable bed dominated the room.

Draco stared at the bed, considering his next move. He was unable to shake the image of the Veela awakening within him and charging off after Hermione. Even if he could not harm her, she would be scared.

Thick, metal chains snaked out of the floor so the cuffs rested on the bed. He shortened the legs of the bed so it sat close to the ground.

Finally satisfied with his efforts Draco stretched out on his stomach on the bed and let his thoughts run rampant. Even worse than the idea of scaring Hermione was the knowledge that Veela's were emotionally unstable until the bond with their mate was completed. The uncaring mask he had hidden behind for years was soon going to be ripped away.

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Ron was upstairs sulking like a child so Harry remained in the living room pretending he did not notice.

Bill and Fleur were in the kitchen chatting non-stop with Molly and Narcissa. Ginny hissed at Harry to make himself scarce while she tried to speak to Hermione about the latest revelations.

Harry headed outside, considering some time on one of the brooms when the pale figure of Draco Malfoy circling the shed caught his attention.

Harry wasn't sure how to regard Malfoy anymore; hating him didn't seem right once he had seen how far he had gone to protect Hermione. Yet accepting him as a friend didn't sit well either. He had seen Hermione hurt by his cruel words too many times to forget easily.

Harry slowly edged closer to the shed, knowing that letting issues fester wasn't an option when the Veela was scheduled to emerge the following day. He was also driven by his curiosity.

Malfoy was stretched out on his front on a plain bed which sat low on the ground. Harry was surprised to see heavy manacles on either side of the mattress.

"Nice place you have here," Harry said casually.

Malfoy opened one eye to assess his demeanour before closing it, "Thanks; I'm considering a career in interior decorating. This is the dungeon look."

"Should be popular in Azkaban," Harry suggested.

"What do you want Potter?" Malfoy asked, though there was no spite in his tone.

Harry wasn't sure what he wanted, "Just checking what you were doing out here."

"Where's your faithful sidekick?"

"He's still pissed at everyone," Harry admitted, "Not the best company at the moment."

Malfoy snorted, "He's never good company."

Harry considered just leaving rather than trying to defend Ron.

Malfoy rolled to his side and sat up, "Actually Potter, I'm glad you're here. I wanted to say thank-you for killing Voldemort. That guy was a despicable bastard and I'm ashamed that my father ever wanted to follow him."

Harry blinked at him in surprise and was rendered speechless for a few seconds, "Um, you're welcome?"

"I regret everything I have ever said or done to hurt Hermione but you and Weasley still annoy the shit out of me," Malfoy admitted.

Harry wondered how Malfoy managed to make half an apology into an insult. It was quite a talent.

"Did you apologize to Hermione?"

Malfoy glared at him, "I plan to grovel for months."

Harry nodded, "Well, I mostly hated you for your treatment of her so if you remain civil I might be able to stand you."

"There's a shining endorsement."

"I can't vouch for Ron though," Harry added, "I doubt he will ever accept your interest in Hermione."

Malfoy rolled back onto his stomach on the bed, "Well he can celebrate if I die next year."

Harry was sure he would, but he was polite enough not to verbalise it.

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Hermione didn't notice Ron stomp up to his room or Harry sneak out to get away from the commotion. She was faintly aware of Ginny sitting next to her worriedly.

Draco was attractive but the thought of lifelong commitment scared her. The burden of knowing that rejecting him meant death kept the shroud of concern fresh in her mind.

She was going to be nineteen in three months and while her peers had been experimenting sexually for years she remained a virgin. She had hoped that the relationship with Ron would work out but after that dissolved she was left wondering if there was something wrong with her.

The revelation that she was the mate of a Veela almost explained why most males were not interested in her romantically. Did she have some sort of mystical signal keeping them at bay?

"Hermione?" Ginny said softly, slipping an arm around her shoulders, "I'm worried about you. I know you're not 'okay' so asking would be a stupid question but I'm here to talk if you need it."

Hermione slowly looked over at the concerned young woman, "I don't know what to do," she admitted.

Ginny squeezed her reassuringly, "You don't need to do anything. What happens tomorrow will happen even if we stress about it. Just try to deal with each minute as it comes."

"I don't like when stuff spirals out of control," Hermione muttered.

Ginny smiled, "I know, but we can't plan for everything."

"I guess Draco was right," Hermione admitted, "I do feel guilty that he could die because of me."

"I know you Hermione and I've seen the way you've been watching Malfoy; are you sure it's guilt?"

Hermione remained silent, lost when it came to analysing her own feelings. She could navigate the turbulent ocean of the emotions of others but that ability deserted her when she turned it inwards.

"You can't forget all the emotions and memories in a day," Ginny continued, "And no-one expects you to. Give yourself some time to accept that you are seriously attracted to Malfoy without admitting anything to anyone."

Hermione nodded, "I still don't like it."

"Are you scared of the commitment or the sex?" Ginny asked quietly.

Hermione prided herself on being a logical woman. Logic dictated that a lifelong bond to a former enemy was much more serious than an intimate act with the same enemy. She decided that logic could go screw itself.

"Both."

Ginny glanced at the doorway to the kitchen, grabbed Hermione's hand and led her upstairs to the bedroom they shared. Although there were spare bedrooms now Hermione could not sleep without another in the room. Harry and Ron were the same.

Ginny cast every spell she could think of to keep the door locked and their words private. Anyone knocking would be heard but not be able to hear a sound from within.

Hermione sat on her bed and Ginny perched on hers. The redhead was blushing, which ignited Hermione's curiosity.

"Harry and I, we haven't, not yet -" Ginny managed.

"Are you going to tell me gross details about a guy I consider to be a brother?" Hermione demanded quickly, "I don't need more nightmares."

That was the truth; like the rest of the household she was usually awakened by a scream. No-one slept soundly anymore.

"Not really," Ginny replied, "But I wanted to tell you some stuff and how terrified I was so you understand."

Hermione stomped on the impulse to flee the room, "Okay, talk."

"Kissing is easy," Ginny said, "We do that all the time. After the final battle he was exhausted for days. We would just hold hands, cuddle and talk."

Hermione nodded. After that day she had spent hours just staring at walls, waiting to be relieved. The relief just didn't materialize.

"I'm a virgin," Ginny added, "I've fooled around with a couple of guys in fifth year but nothing below the waist."

That was depressing; Hermione was less experienced than Ginny had been in fifth year.

"One day Harry was back on his feet and we went for a walk just to be alone," the younger witch continued, "We ended up snogging, which was great until he got a bit overeager."

Hermione felt her stomach clench involuntarily.

"Did he? Oh dear Merlin, what are you telling me?"

Ginny gulped, "I was surprised when he managed to get my bra undone," she admitted, "I should have said something then. I just froze and he didn't realize."

"Ginny; what did he do?" her voice was low and almost threatening.

"His hand was in my knickers before I pulled away," Ginny said softly, "He was horrified when he realized I wasn't encouraging that and I forgave him but it was just unsettling, you know?"

Hermione nodded. She had been unsettled since Draco had been brought into the Weasley house looking like mincemeat.

"He held me afterwards," Ginny could feel her heat pounding and she gripped her pillow tightly, "And I could feel it pressed up against my leg. How the hell is that supposed to fit? That's going to hurt so much!"

Hermione shifted so she was sitting next to Ginny on her bed. She hugged the younger girl automatically.

"When we were camping, the guys would wake up like that," she confided, "They were so embarrassed. Ron admitted that he had done it with Lavender and once he said that we were able to talk more. It was horribly awkward at first but sharing fears and insecurities can build trust."

Ginny nodded, "He's been through so much, I don't want to stress him out you know?"

Hermione felt herself smiling, "It's a different kind of stress. The more you talk the more relaxed he will be, and you too."

"I almost want to ask mum but I know Harry would never be able to look her in the eye again," Ginny giggled.

"I wish I could offer you advice as a big sister but I'm afraid I didn't even get that far with Ron," Hermione admitted.

Ginny gaped at her, "Did he get your bra off?"

Hermione snorted, "He didn't even get my shirt off."

Ginny burst into laughter and threw herself back against the bed, "I shouldn't laugh but what a dope!"

Hermione was smiling at her antics, "I'm like a sister to him remember."

Ginny was wiping her eyes when she finally sat back up, "I'm sorry, but sometimes I wonder if Ron actually prefers guys. It would explain why he is so utterly hopeless around girls."

"He managed well enough with Lavender," Hermione said with a shrug.

"Clearly Lavender knew how to give short, simple instructions for him to follow," Ginny replied, "The school year is going to be so weird; how many kids are going to be shipped to Europe instead of going to Hogwarts?"

"Well I know there will be a maximum of six Gryffindors in Eighth Year," Hermione mused, "The three here, plus Neville, Dean and Seamus."

"Ravenclaw lost two students," Ginny agreed, "I guess the rest will be bunking with the Seventh Years, if they come back at all."

"In a way I'm really looking forward to going back; burying myself in homework until I don't have to stress about anything else," Hermione said with a sad smile, "And then I think of Lavender and Parvati and I realize that I can never escape what has happened, even at Hogwarts."

Ginny froze in place, staring across the room. Hermione tried to follow her gaze but couldn't see what she was looking at.

"There are going to be more ghosts," Ginny said worriedly, "I hope Fred isn't there."

Hermione stroked her hair, "I'll be there for you, I promise. You'll always have someone there to help you cope."

"I hope he moved on to wherever," Ginny murmured.

"Maybe Lavender is a ghost," Hermione offered, "She can give Ron tips on how not to be a dork."

"Let's hope he gets that advice from a ghost," Ginny agreed, "It would kill anyone living."