A/N: Yes, it has been forever. For those of you who are still reading...thank you.

Chapter 14: Her

The library was completely changed when Hermione walked in. Malfoy had made it much roomier, with a large space in the middle of the room where they could practice spells. The Horcruxes were lying on a table in front of the boys, and several house elves were walking amongst the shelves and stacking books on and around the table for them to peruse. However, it was not the activity that had made the room so tense, it was Harry, Ron and Draco, each sitting silently at the table and determinedly not looking at each other.

This has got to stop, Hermione thought. I'll make them accept each other, no matter how hard.

"Sitting around isn't going to destroy those Horcruxes," she joked weakly. The three boys looked at her and then reached for books. With a mental groan, she seated herself at the head of the table and pulled a tome toward herself. She lacked the energy to disperse the tension at the moment.

They all studied quietly for about an hour, only soft mumblings and shuffling of pages breaking the silence. Harry and Ron fidgeted, but they understood the importance of the matter and tried to focus. "Draco, would you pass me that book over there?" Hermione asked at length.

His head snapped up, giving her a puzzled look, while Harry and Ron turned simultaneously to glare at him. Belatedly, she realized what she'd done, and held out her hand impatiently to receive the tome, hoping that everyone would ignore what she'd said. Malfoy took his cues from her, and as his face went frustratingly unreadable, handed her the book she'd requested. Harry had gone back to his text as well, but there was a stiffness in his jaw that said he was not going to overlook her mistake so quickly. Ron turned to stare at her, gaping.

"Oh, please, Ron!" Hermione snapped. "We've been traveling together a long time, am I really not allowed to use his first name?"

"No!" Ron said. "He's our enemy."

She bristled. "Really? Because I happen to think he's done us more help than harm. What proof do you have that he's not on our side?"

"People like that don't change, Hermione," He hissed. "He will always be a slimy—"

Hermione stood angrily. "Stop it, Ron!"

He rose to meet her, and leaned aggressively over the table towards her. Draco made a move, as if to stand and defend her, but Hermione glanced at him warningly and he stayed in his seat, eyes averted. "I won't stop it," Ron said, his voice a low growl, "He is winning you over with his lies, and you can't see what's really happening."

"And what, Ron, is that?"

He glared, opened his mouth to say something, and then shut it. His expression turned to one of hurt and then he backed away a couple of steps, rubbing his face. "Just trust me, Hermione. Dealings with him are not going to bring anything but trouble." He turned on his heel and walked briskly out of the room.

Hermione stood, looking after him in confusion. Did Ron know something that she didn't? "Harry, do you know—"

"No," Harry said uneasily. So, he had noticed the change too. "He does have a point, though," he said slowly.

She scowled. "Do you really believe that?"

He turned to face her, and countered, "Did you see his face?"

"But he was just angry! It doesn't matter how much he believes what he said…" her voice trailed off. She'd never seen Ron look so…ugh! There weren't even words to describe it. Hermione shook her head slowly.

"I'll go talk to him," Harry offered.

"Thank you," Hermione said gratefully. He gave her a half-hug on his way out, murmuring that it was great to have her back with them.

She slumped into her chair and flicked idly through the pages of the tome in front of her, but her heart wasn't in it anymore.

Hermione had fallen asleep on the book in front of her hours ago, and Draco was alternating between reading the text in front of him and watching her sleep. She looked exhausted, and thin from her recent adventure. He closed the book quietly and conjured up a couch for her to sleep on, then carefully lifted her from the chair, peeled the pages from her cheek, and set her down on the sofa.

Her eyes fluttered briefly, and he explained the situation to her. She was asleep before he was done, he was sure, but that was just for the best. "Three kilometers," he muttered to himself, stepping out into the hall to summon Tildan. He was going to break that rule of the contract, that much was certain. Draco only hoped to be back before she awoke again.

At his command, Tildan appeared with a cracking noise. "Be here for her when she wakes," he told the elf. "Get her anything that she needs, spare no expense." He stopped, uncertain of how much he should entrust to the house elf.

"If she asks where you've gone, what should I say?" Tildan was looking at him knowingly, and Draco scowled. The damned elf already knew where he was going.

"Tell her you don't know."

"I don't like lying," Tildan said reproachfully.

"Bloody hell," Draco snapped irritably. No wonder he had stopped coming here. "You know," he said cajolingly, "a real house elf wouldn't question his master." The side of Tildan's mouth rose in the tiniest of smirks, and Draco sighed, uttering curses under his breath. "Fine, if she asks either tell her that I didn't tell you where I went, or—or, something, figure it out yourself if you don't like my plan! But whatever you do, do not tell her where I am."

Tildan sighed, but acceded. "Her territory is dangerous," he warned. "How long should we wait?"

Draco thought a second, then said, "If I'm not back in three days, implement Plan D."

The elf's jaw nearly dropped. "D? You can't be seri—" his expression changed, and Tildan gave a small chuckle. "Oh, I see. The problem is that you are far too serious. Does she even like you?" he asked.

Sneering, Draco ignored the question and took off down the hall.

Ron had not spoken for a long, long time. Harry felt uncomfortable with prodding, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Ron knew somewhat more than he was saying. "What was all that about?"

The redhead shrugged, and rolled over on his bed so that his back was to Harry. He frowned, and after a long moment, finally said, "He was right, you know…what he said last night."

Ron scoffed, as Harry supposed he would have. "No," he said stubbornly.

"Do you really think you could have hurt her?" Harry asked, "Even if it was the only way to save her?"

"I wouldn't have needed to hurt her," Ron said, "I would have found another way."

"But if there was no other way," Harry said exasperatedly, "If time was short and you needed to do it now or risk losing her forever, would you have been able to do it?" Ron was silent, but this time the silence was angry. "I don't think I could do it," Harry said softly. "Besides," he added, "It's only his first name. Common courtesy to use it, by now."

"You don't," Ron snapped.

"No," Harry mused, "But neither does she, most of the time." He hesitated, "You know, it's all our fault."

"What is?"

"Them being close. She was the only one who was neutral enough to share a room with him. If we had been more willing to bend…"

"Harry, shut up."

He obliged, waiting for Ron to say something. The silence grew prolonged. Harry had an itch at the back of his head that he wanted to scratch, but he was afraid if he moved Ron wouldn't say what he had on his mind.

At last, the words came, harsh as a whip, "You haven't seen what I've seen, Harry!"

"What does that mean?"

Ron still wasn't inclined to look at him, but he lifted one arm into the air, letting his sleeve fall past his elbow. There were long scars all down his arms, the result of the brains at the Department of Mysteries a year ago. "They did something to me, Harry," he said hoarsely.

"I don't understand."

Hermione awoke to find Tildan sitting in a chair, staring at her. She had no time to feel uncomfortable, as the elf said briskly, "Draco asked me to wait for you to wake up."

"Oh," she said. Her head was still foggy with sleep; there didn't seem to be much else to say to that.

"Do you need anything?" Tildan asked.

"No," she answered hesitantly, "Where did Malfoy go?"

"I'm not supposed to say," Tildan responded. "But if he's not back in three days I have orders."

"What kind of orders? Where did he go? Is it dangerous?" she asked in a rush.

"Oh, not the sort of dangerous that you need to worry about," Tildan told her serenely. "I'm afraid the Vigoratious Room is off limits, due to Draco's departure, but I can show you to another room, if you'd like? We have one just a few doors down, then you won't need to walk far to get back here."

Hermione was too weary to complain or ask more questions and simply allowed herself to be led to the other room, where she fell into bed and promptly slept.

The forest was thick, and fog obscured the majority of Draco's vision. He sighed and wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. She'd always loved being tucked away from the world; he knew she would be angry for involving her in this, but they needed her help. Draco continued to move deeper into the forest.

There was a growling noise off to his right and he stopped mid-stride. "Nox," he thought, and the light on the tip of his wand went out. He began to speak, but all that came out was "I'm sorry." Curse Hermione and her contract. Draco pulled out a muggle voice recording device from his pocket and hit the play button. "I'm here to see Vonyella," his voice said electronically into the fog.

"Prove it," the wolf growled. Ellie's wolves always surprised him with their size. This one, appearing from the fog to sit between two trees in front of him, came up past his waist. Draco put his broomstick on the ground and reached into a pocket of his pants and pulled a small knife out. He quickly ran it across the length of his palm, and the wolf leaned forward to lick a drop of blood off his finger before it dripped.

It considered for a long time, then rumbled, "This way," and walked away. Draco grabbed his broom and nearly had to run to keep up with the wolf, and he sensed the presence of Ellie's other pets on either side of him through the trees.

Her place was a small cottage, so diminutive that it would have fit into his bedroom at Malfoy Manor. The wolves halted at the tree line, growling softly at him. The leading wolf, who he noted was smaller than the others (a very Vonyella thing to do, naming him the leader of the pack), walked straight up to the door and sat on its haunches. Draco followed it, and went inside when the door opened on its own.

Only two candles were lit inside the house, but Draco could tell where Vonyella was immediately by the gleam of her white-blond hair. "You came," she said softly. "You don't visit often."

"I'm sorry," he said. That, at least, was sincere, but it reminded him once again that he'd broken the contract and needed to communicate with Vonyella otherwise. He pulled the recorder from his pocket once more and hit play. As his voice explained everything, he propped his broom beside the door.

Ellie waved her hand and the voice recording stopped. "All this I know," she said. "Why are you here?"

He drew a pad of paper from his robes and scrawled on it, We need help.

"And how do you expect me to help?" she asked, after reading what he'd written.

Draco hesitated. Ellie, you're the most powerful witch I know. "No I'm not," she said, reading over his shoulder. He scratched out what he was going to write next and wrote instead, Don't argue with me. We both know you're more intuitive than she is and you have more—he hesitated—experience. I think you can help us.

Vonyella sighed and leaned over to kiss him. He accepted her kiss stiffly; he'd forgotten how intimate she could be. At last she pulled away, with a soft giggle at his discomfort and walked out the door. Draco grabbed his belongings and hurried after her.

Ellie walked with him outside of her wards, her wolves following them through the woods on either side, except for the alpha, who walked at her side. She did not speak, and it would have felt wrong to break the silence anyhow. Not that Draco could talk now anyways. It made him feel bad, he wished he could catch up with her a bit, and apologize for not visiting in so many years.

Just outside of the wards she had put up to guard her safe place, Ellie stopped. Draco felt the magical boundaries melt away with the woods and stared down the small hill into the meadow below. A light rain was falling—he hadn't noticed the precipitation while under the cover of the thick trees, but now it fell around them like a mist.

Falling to her knees in the tall grass, Ellie and her lead wolf had a whispered conversation. The rain fell harder, and the words and growls had clearly become more argumentative. "Kyrin is coming with us," she announced at last, standing. Raindrops were caught in her long silvery hair like dew, and Draco brushed some of her hair back into place.

"I'm—" he began, then sighed and grinned ruefully.

"Let's go, then," Ellie said. She reached down to touch Kyrin's head with her palm and Disapparated with a crack. Draco followed suit, arriving a moment later at the dock on the far side of his family's house. He could not help but be exasperated that Vonyella had brought the rain with them. She tended to forget the extent of her magics.

The wolf was already waiting in the boat expectantly, seemingly oblivious to the rain that fell steadily harder around them. Vonyella got into the boat gracefully, and when he followed it untied itself from the dock and began to row itself toward the house. Draco's broomstick fell onto the wooden seats with a sharp noise, and he flinched. The wolf looked at him disapprovingly.

By the time they reached the house, everyone was thoroughly soaked. Vonyella was unperturbed by the weather, but the cold water trickling down his spine left Draco struggling not to shiver. She waited impatiently for him at the gates, and he said into the keyhole, "The dragon has returned," to open them. Kyrin was looking at him suspiciously the whole time, as if he was trying to trick them.

Ellie did not share her wolf's distrust and walked briskly up to the door of the house, magically swinging it open before she got there. She stopped mid-step in the foyer, and Kyrin's hackles raised immediately. If Draco could have asked what was wrong he would have, but Vonyella read his thoughts before he needed to. "This house reeks of death, Draco, what have you done?"

He reached into his pocket to pull out the notepad, but it was completely sodden. Instead he traced the word in the air with a finger. Horcruxes. A shiver ran up her spine, and she pulled the hood of her cloak down over her face as if to hide herself. "Show me to my room," she said at last.

Draco didn't need to call for a house elf to know which room they had prepared for her. They wandered down the halls, Kyrin scouting a bit ahead of them, and left a large trail of water in their wake. Vonyella's heels clicked out a rhythm on the wooden floor, and Draco wondered at why she had been wearing high heels in the forest. Then again, he was certain that she would never make sense to him.

The door to Ellie's room had no knob, but it opened when Draco pressed his palm flat against it. Kyrin looked at him warily and then forced himself into the room before Vonyella. The stupid animal irritated Draco with its suspicious manner, and he fought the urge to give it a swift kick. Ellie walked into the dark room calmly, twitching her fingers to light the candles as she entered.

Vonyella looked at him solemnly. "Thank you."

He stood uncertainly. "I'm—" he began, then sighed. He kept forgetting about Hermione's contract. Ellie approached him and placed her fingers across his forehead; her skin was freezing and it sent chills down his spine. She closed her eyes as if concentrating, then moved her hand away and leaned forward to give him a kiss. She held it far longer than was proper, and her lips tingled against his. He was too shocked to protest. "Speak," she said, pulling away.

At first all he could do was laugh nervously, but then he said, "I guess I should go to bed…what did you do?"

She gave him a slow, clandestine smile. "Nothing."

"Oh yes you did," he said, growing slightly frantic. "You took away the effects of Granger's contract. How?"

"Why do you always ask me how I do things? You know I cannot explain it," she said, pouting. "Just leave me be, I'll see you in the morning. Kyrin and I need our rest." The wolf growled in agreement.

Draco turned to leave, but Ellie grabbed his arm and pulled him back into a passionate kiss. He pulled away, startled, and Vonyella smirked at him, then turned her back and began undressing. Taking this as a dismissal, he turned to leave…

Hermione was standing in the doorway.

His heart plummeted into his stomach. Draco turned to yell at Vonyella, but the only words that came out were, "I'm sorry!" Half naked, she looked at him and smirked even wider.

He ran out into the hall and chased after Granger, but at the first corner she turned he slid in the slick trail of water he and Ellie had left on their entrance. Draco hit the floor and everything went dark.

The first thing he knew, he had a splitting headache. The next thing he noticed was that he was cold straight down to his bones. He shivered and pulled the blankets up closer to his chin in an effort to warm himself.

It was when he heard the unmistakable sound of fingernails drumming against wood that he remembered. Draco muffled a groan with the blankets, but wasn't surprised to hear Granger's voice briskly say, "You're up." She paused, and then: "Do you want some water?"

Draco nodded his head and heard the creak of a chair as she got up, followed by the splash of water. A glass hovered in his vision and he reluctantly sat up to drink it. He tried to say something, but her contract bound him and he gritted his teeth so the words wouldn't come out.

He mimicked writing something and she unceremoniously dumped a pile of parchment (which instantly scattered across the blankets) and a self-inking quill before him.

I broke the contract.

"Yes, I noticed," she snapped.

Draco looked up at her, but she turned away so he couldn't see her expression. He turned back to the parchment and wrote: I want to talk to you.

She scowled, and grudgingly pulled a small roll of parchment from her pocket. She went to sit at a desk on the far side of the room and tapped the paper with his wand. Draco practically felt the restrictions being lifted from him; it was as if the world had become brighter.

"Tildan brought dry clothes for you. They're on the chair," she said, gesturing over her shoulder at a seat by the bed.

He pulled himself out of bed and changed, then finally approached the desk where she sat. "Granger, what you saw—"

"That's what you think I'm angry about?" she snarled.

Draco hesitated, then began, "Well…"

Hermione cut him off. "You broke the contract."

"But—"

"There aren't any excuses, Malfoy." She spat his name. "If you couldn't tell me when you were leaving, why bother telling me now?" He opened his mouth to speak, but she didn't give him the chance. "Harry, Ron and I will leave in the morning."

Her words made him ache with guilt. "It's not what you think, Granger."

She stood up and began walking to the door. "Goodbye, Malfoy."

For a long moment he stood there, stunned. She was leaving. And then a spark of anger surged up inside of him, freeing him from his paralysis. Draco grabbed his wand off the desk and shot off a spell. The door slammed closed just before Hermione could reach it. She turned and glared at him. "Open the door."

"No," he said, striding across the room. She backed up a couple steps before her fury consumed her as well and she stood her ground defiantly, meeting him with the fieriest gaze he'd ever seen. Whatever half-formed plans had been running through his head stopped dead still and vanished and he was as surprised as she was when he grabbed her into a harsh embrace and kissed her.

Hermione stepped back, a flush rising in her cheeks and she said, "What do you think you're doing?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

"I have no idea," he said honestly, bending down and kissing her again. She returned the kiss, trembling in his arms, and he pulled back and looked at her in alarm. Whatever semblance of calm she'd been holding onto fell apart, and he could see the anguish and hurt scrawled across her face. "You're just making things worse," she stammered. He heard her try to turn the doorknob behind her back, but it would not budge.

Draco reached out for her again, gently this time, and pulled her into closed position. She opened her mouth to say something, her look incredulous, but he hushed her as he led her in a box step. Her mouth closed with a clicking noise as she tried to keep up with the unfamiliar steps. He watched as she lost herself in the dance, staring at their feet in order to keep up with him.

When at last she grew comfortable with the steps, she looked up at him with a small smile on her face. The expression quickly fell, as she remembered that she was supposed to be mad at him. Her feet faltered and she ended up stepping on his toes in her effort to keep up. The moment was ruined.

"I should go," she said.

"Can I at least explain?" he said as calmly as possible.

"No," she said. Hermione released his hand and his shoulder, going to the door once more.

"Hermione…" he said. She stopped stock-still. "I'm sorry."

"Me too."

With that, she left. Draco looked around the empty room and finally clambered onto the bed and lay there looking at the ceiling until he fell asleep.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Hermione turned on her heel. The voice was unfamiliar but she didn't have to look to know who was speaking. "My friends and I are leaving," she coldly informed the girl.

"I don't think so," the other girl said with a wide smirk.

There was something weird about her that Hermione couldn't quite place her finger on. She scoffed, "What makes you think that?"

"I wanted to give you the opportunity to forgive him on your own, but your head is so filled with petty desires…" the girl shook her head, mock pity written all over her face.

"Petty desires?" Hermione snapped. "We were all supposed to work together on this. If he can't include us in his plans then I'm not sure we can trust him."

"You need him."

"I do not!" Hermione said quickly.

The blonde girl laughed, a genuine laugh that made the hair on Hermione's arms prickle. "This is exactly what I'm talking about. If you truly want to destroy those Horcruxes, you need Draco's help. But of course your mind immediately goes to more…personal things."

Hermione scowled threateningly at her. "That wasn't what I meant."

"You can lie to me, but don't lie to yourself. Go talk to him."

She turned to leave, planning on ignoring the other girl completely, but a wolf, its teeth bared dangerously, blocked her way. Hermione turned back to the blonde girl but she was gone. The wolf herded her back to Malfoy's room. Hermione desperately wished that she had her wand.

The door was unlocked, just as she'd left it, so she walked in. Malfoy was asleep on the bed, his knees tucked up to his chest and his arms wrapped around a pillow. He looked so vulnerable that Hermione's anger dissipated. She conjured another blanket and put it over him, then crawled onto the other side of the bed and lay down, watching him. She fell asleep quickly.

There was a note from Vonyella beside Draco's head when he woke up. Hermione was sleeping on the other side of the bed, which he thought odd. He covered her with the blanket that he found on top of himself and read the note:

I won't make her stay a second time, dearest brother, so you had best find some way to convince her other than whatever you tried last night.

Draco sighed and ran his hands through his hair. Even if Granger stayed, he worried that Ellie had already screwed up any chance he had with her. But as he sat there, watching her sleep, he realized that he needed her more than he'd ever needed anything. He needed to convince her to stay.

Go on just say it

You need me like a bad habit,

One that leaves you defenseless, dependent, and alone

--Taking Back Sunday, "One-Eighty By Summer"