AN: Hooray! Summer has finally arrived, and hopefully with it, more updates as well! It has been so long since I've updated all of my stories that I had to reread them myself. Sorry again for the wait, and without further do, I hope you enjoy this next installment :)

Disclaimer: JRK owns.

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Chapter 11: Love Laden Acrimony

I awoke hours later. My bedside chair was now empty. I assumed that Draco must have left at some point to catch a meal or grab school work. I sighed, blinking blearily and gazed to my right. Weasley was out of sight, but a studious-looking Hermione Granger still sat at Harry's bedside intently reading a rather huge tome which I swore had never been part of our mandatory school curriculum.

I gazed to her side, hoping that what I would see would not be too much to bear. Harry was now sound asleep, the gentle rise and lowering of his chest noticeable as he slept on, probably by aid of a sleeping draught. He looked better, that was for sure. His sickly complexion had cleared up a bit, and the large bruise his right cheekbone had wielded was now more subdued. I smiled softly at the sight.

As I drew out of my languid thoughts, I noticed Granger's frequent page-turning had become more intermittent…practically nonexistent. I glanced over at her to only be met by a harsh gaze.

"Don't think we don't know who's done this," he threatened menacingly.

I narrowed my eyes in response. "What's that supposed to mean, mudblood?" I questioned back, rather crudely.

She scoffed; her brown eyes aglow. "Malfoy's family crest was practically branded onto Harry from one of the punches he threw," she remarked angrily.

My breath caught. She couldn't be serious.

"As if that were even necessary evidence," Granger ranted. "The whole school knows that Malfoy is following in his father's footsteps; joining the Death Eaters."

My blood boiled at her final accusation. Draco and Harry's rivalry was nothing new, yet this was taking things too far. Draco had never wanted to become a Death Eater like his father. A rueful declaration from him two summers ago had been enough proof of that. Never had he wished to join the Dark Arts, it was the something the two of us had in common.

I turned away from Granger in my cot, her bitter words ringing through my ears.

"Malfoy's family crest was practically branded onto Harry…"

The platinum and emerald encrusted ring had been a gift to Draco on his 16th birthday, a prized family heirloom which had been passed down since the days of Abraxas Malfoy's father, Draco's great-grandfather.

I felt angry tears prick my eyes. How could Draco do this? And why? It had all happened so suddenly. Last night they had been together, and alone. Draco must have accosted him afterwards. Had he seen them together?

At that moment, the devil himself strode into the Hospital Wing, a red-faced Weasley at his heels.

I quickly wiped my tears away, choosing to simply stare straight ahead. I was in no mood to deal with Draco right now. I was furious.

From behind me, I heard Granger's large book snap shut, her chair scraping against the floor as she suddenly stood up.

"Here to inspect that damage you've done?" she spat at Draco.

"I haven't done a thing to Pansy," he retorted innocently, plunking himself into a nearby chair.

"You know what I mean Malfoy," she remarked through gritted teeth.

"Don't think we won't be telling Dumbledore," Weasley sputtered, finally speaking up.

"Oh yeah?" Draco questioned, "And exactly what are you going to tell him?"

"Acting like you don't know, huh?" Weasley asked fiercely, his fists tightly clenched. I squeezed my eyes shut at the palpable tension within the room. I was surprised Weasley hadn't attempted to slug Draco already.

"Don't bother, Ron," Hermione demanded from beside her friend, tugging at his Gryffindor robes. "There's no point in speaking to such…vermin anyways," she hissed.

"Speak for yourself," Draco spat back, his arms crossed as he glared defiantly at Granger.

"Miss Granger! Mister Malfoy!" exclaimed a suddenly present Madam Pomfrey. "I will not tolerate such behavior from the two of you, in the hospital wing nonetheless! As prefects it is your role to set an example," she huffed angrily.

Granger nodded apologetically scurrying out, hugging her book to herself. I felt a cool breeze as she passed by, her dark brown eyes boring into both Malfoy and I as she left.

Weasley sat down gruffly, in Granger's abandoned seat, looking away from us as Madame Pomfrey approached Harry, taking his current vitals.

"Thanks for the support back there," Draco sarcastically whispered to me.

I rolled my eyes, still angry at him. I wished I too could lash out at him, as Granger previously had.

"Are you trying to get yourself expelled?" I hissed at him through my teeth.

Draco glared back at me, not taking kind to the fact that I had responded to his accusation with a question of my own.

"I should have known all along," he jeered. "Living up to your first name by getting cozy with a good for nothing, Gryffindor."

So he knew.

My heart stopped. Whose side would I know take? Would I defend Potter? Or defend my pride?

"What's it to you Malfoy?" I countered, "Who are you to be so keen in meddling with my personal life?"

Malfoy scoffed. "Oh I don't know," he whispered back. "Maybe your best friend? Your confidante since the day we were born?"

I glared at him.

"And since when did you take an interest in Potter?" he asked, emphasizing the other boy's name as if it were a disease.

"Have you forgotten your upbringing? Our parentage?" he ranted on in a slur of rage. "We are pureblood Slytherins, families linked directly to the Dark Arts. To us, Potter is equivalent to the antichrist.

I snorted. Harry as the antichrist? From where I sat he was everything but.

Draco glared at my choice of response. "Do you have any idea what the Dark Lord would do if he found out about such an alliance?" he asked, his voice still laden with anger but now concerned.

"As if I care," I retorted rolling my eyes. "I have no concern for the Dark Arts, but I do…for Harry," I whispered, soothed by just the sound of his name.

It such a relief to say such a thing out loud; to announce one's feelings openly.

Draco's face was no burning with anger. An appearance which was rare for him, being raised by a pureblood family had taught him not to be so forthright with his emotions.

"This is more than just…a fling?" he growled. "I was trying to protect you…" he sputtered with rage. "I thought atleast he was blackmailing you into this association!"

"Control yourself, Malfoy," I hissed. "My love life is no concern of anybody but myself," I stated firmly, making my point clear.

"And what of us?" he questioned, his steely eyes suddenly amalgamating with yet another emotion.

"What of us?" I snapped back tersely.

"What of our love?" he whispered bitterly. "Or have you already forgotten?"

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A/N: Read and Review!