Disclaimer: It all belongs to JK Rowling, yada yada.

Chapter 14: Declaration

Compared to the time she had doused Draco liberally with strawberry ice cream, Hermione realized that her return to Bulgaria this time was not as fraught with anxiety as she expected. On the contrary, she felt calm and at ease. She had accepted her feelings towards Draco, and not having to constantly struggle with how she felt made it much more easy to concentrate on her job as a Dragon Tamer. Here, she was grateful, as the work was invigorating and stimulating as usual.

Today was another fine day in Bulgaria, and while summer was waning, it seemed to want to prove it had something in it yet, and the sun's rays shone brightly as she squinted into the distance. Two dragons wheeled around in the clear sky within the confines of the enclosure, and as always she was captivated by the gracefulness of their flight despite their breadth and size. She had always been fascinated by their ability to fly. Physics and common sense dictated that something so large and so heavy should not be able to lift itself up in the air. Unlike birds or planes, dragons were all out of proportion for flight. The improbable magic they possessed that allowed them to do so was great indeed.

"Careful there!" cried Rhys, who supported her as she balanced herself on the rocky hill.

"I know, I know. Sorry about that!" She laughed with exhilaration as the light wind ruffled her hair. "I'm just so excited to see them up in the air. And it does seem that the invisible barriers are holding."

"You know, we could've taken a broom," Rhys grumbled, "My legs are aching!"

Hermione shivered despite the warm air. "Nooo…brooms and me…don't really go well together. You're free to go up there yourself if you want to."

Rhys could not help himself from laughing at Hugh's theatrical fright, and threw a friendly arm across his shoulder.

It was at this unfortunate point that Draco came across the couple. Denial and recriminations towards his actions over the weekend notwithstanding, he had spent the entire time since his return to Bulgaria feverishly looking for the object of his obsessions. The joy in his heart when he caught sight of him from the trail below was frankly rather disgusting. Even more so was how incensed he felt when he saw Rhys beside him in a rather compromising position.

The measured, suave phrases he had practiced were immediately thrown out the window, and the words were out of his mouth before he could even blink.

"What are you doing?" Draco barked, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

"Excuse me?" asked Hermione as she brushed her hair off her face and looked towards him.

For a moment she was speechless. His messy blond hair shone in the late summer sun, looking very much like spun gold. Weeks in the Bulgarian wilderness had given his previously pallid complexion a healthy tan. Today, he wore a forest green tunic that perfectly set off his features, making them sharper and more focused. His eyes sparkled and his cheeks were flushed a pale pink.

Nevertheless, she immediately realized that something was not quite right. His patience was obviously strained, and it seemed as if a vein jumped as Draco struggled to control his anger. "I said, what are the both of you doing?"

Hermione and Rhys both looked at him in confusion. "Nothing. Rhys and I were just checking on the dragons to see if the enclosure was large enough. It's very important that they have enough space to fly and hunt."

But it seemed as if he did not hear this, and it was obvious that his anger had not abated one bit. "Use a balancing spell for Merlin's sake," snarled Draco. "Just because you're muggleborn doesn't mean you have to act as disgustingly as they do."

Hermione's jaw dropped open at his words. Before she could say anything however, Draco turned abruptly and strode away.

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Dusk was soon falling, and as yellow turned to orange and melted into grey, Hermione's anger slowly burned. She fumed as she banged her way into the shared cottage. "Just because you're muggleborn…" she mimicked as she stormed up the stairs. Why, she'd had it with him and his prejudices! And for a while there, she'd thought he had changed! Well, she had clearly been mistaken. He was still a lousy, no-good ferret…

…And yet she still loved him.

Her anger escaped from her all at once, and she sighed, feeling oddly deflated as she skulked into her bedroom.

Where Draco sat on her bed as he looked pensively out the window.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, shocked and somewhat embarrassed as she realized what a mess her room was in.

He turned to her with a forlorn look that all but thawed her stony heart. "Um…apologizing to you?" he replied sheepishly.

Hermione was speechless for the second time today. "Oh…I see," she finally said, as she leaned awkwardly against the wall across the room. Draco's proximity (and in her room) made her feel unexpectedly uncomfortable. She was suddenly reminded again of their kiss…and his subsequent actions at Flourish and Blotts. She could almost remember the feeling of his lips on her neck, and the memory made her flush with embarrassment; a slow, burning feeling that crept from her breast up to her neck.

She spied a look at him from the corner of her eye, and realized immediately what a mistake that was. Draco's full attention was trained on her. His gaze was faithful, patient, hungry, and it thrilled yet frightened her. His eyes bored into her as if they were trying to see into her soul, and she felt naked and defenseless.

"I'm sorry about today…and also about Friday actually." He laughed to himself bitterly, "I really don't know what's gotten into me these days." He stood up and began pacing left-to-right.

Hermione smiled weakly. "It's alright. Forget about it. We're all stressed. The deadline's coming up and we still have so much to do, and making all this worse, the dragons are all going crazy with their hormones and going mad in the reserve…"

It seemed as if he had not heard her babble at all. She suddenly realized that he was standing right before her. "Well, actually I do. It's you. You drive me crazy."

"Um…sorry?" Hermione spluttered, not knowing what to say. "I mean…I…well I know I really shouldn't have – "

He put a finger to her lips, shocking her into silence.

"Shhh. Listen."

She nodded mutely. Up close, she could see the dark bags under his eyes, and the frown lines on his tensed forehead. She could tell that he was tired, jumpy, and uncharacteristically nervous.

"This is…difficult for me," Draco began haltingly, "I mean, no offense to you, but you are a man and a muggleborn, basically the completely opposite of what I had always looked for in a partner…"

"Since Friday…I…I have sought to persuade myself that it had all been a horrible mistake, tiredness perhaps, or some kind of hallucination." Hermione didn't know if she'd been insulted, but continued to keep silent nonetheless. He began pacing again, his arms clenched together in front, his bloodshot eyes looking down at the wooden floor.

"I am sure you could not have imagined my weekend." He laughed self-deprecatingly as he remembered the events that occurred; the queer club Blaise had brought him to, the discovery of Harry's secret, the incident at the bookstore with Granger.

"I…tried to run away from what happened while everything just fell apart all around me, till I came to realize how flimsy my entire existence was." He shook his head in disgust.

"I didn't want to admit it. I…still can't believe I'm admitting it, but throughout it all – one thing remained constant. For some reason…" he paused, trailing his fingers achingly across her cheek, as he stared wonderingly at her. Hermione's breath began to come in short spurts, and she vaguely wondered at the back of her mind if she was hyperventilating.

"…For some reason, I could not stop thinking about you. You…consumed me. I even checked to see if you'd placed a spell on me but I couldn't find anything."

Hermione gaped at him disbelievingly. "I did not place a spell…"

He put his finger to her lips once more and whispered hoarsely, "Let me finish. If I'm honest with myself…then I've been thinking about you for a long time. I'm not lying when I say I've never felt this way about anyone in my entire pathetic life. I don't care if you're a man, if you're muggleborn. I trust you, wholeheartedly. You've been a better friend than I could have hoped for. Than I deserved. I…would give up everything to be with you, my reputation, Pansy, everything I had ever been taught, all my stupid pureblood ideals…if you would just give me a chance…"

All Hermione could do was stare dumbly at him.

Her first reaction was that this had to be the worse, most disjointed declaration of love she had ever heard.

But then, after a few tense seconds…it was as if fireworks were erupting in her belly, as if something inside her had burst open and all her nerve ends were singing in pleasure. She felt as though she were flying, but instead of being frightened as she usually was, she felt euphoric, ecstatic. He wanted to be with her. He could not stop thinking about her. He would give up all that he was for her. He loved her.

It was entirely by accident that she caught a look of herself in the dressing table mirror. Staring back at her was a boy with short ash brown hair that came down slightly over his ears. His irises were a startling deep blue, and even from here she could tell that they were fringed with long, luxurious lashes. His square jaw and semi-broad shoulders however gave away his sex.

And she understood then that it was not 'her' Draco spoke about, but 'him'.

She remembered Harry's warning, and all at once, she felt a deep and painful sense of loss. For a few seconds, she had allowed herself to fantasize of what might have been, a glorious world where Draco returned her feelings, where he trusted her, respected her, loved her enough to give up all that the Malfoy family stood for. It was worse then if he hadn't spoken at all.

Draco looked worriedly at Hugh, straining to see signs of what his reaction might be. Truth be told, he hadn't planned on saying anything to him at all. The entire weekend was a mad swirl of events that climaxed with his attack on Granger. After all that, he had apparated straight home, poured himself a glass of the strongest firewhiskey, and tumbled into bed.

It had been the end of his world as he knew it. First he kissed a man. His employee and good friend. Then, he sexually assaulted Hermione Granger.

He had screamed so loudly into his pillow that all his house elves had rushed to his chamber in a titter, scrambling about, asking what was wrong with Master Draco. He had just wanted everything to go away, everything; to turn back the clock as if nothing had happened, to go back to the times they had in Bulgaria, when it was as if they had been there forever, and Voldemort and Harry Potter and his father had never existed.

And so it was in this spirit that he had returned to Bulgaria. His plans however were foiled the moment he saw a laughing Hugh, his brown hair flying around him like a halo in the wind, his cheeks flushed pink with pleasure. He was lost the moment he set eyes on him.

He had been so angry when he saw that Rhys was with Hugh, holding him. He never wanted to see another man touch Hugh again, ever. He wanted to keep him by his side forever. To shrink him palm-sized and keep him in his pocket, only bringing him back to his original size so that he could do all sorts of naughty things to him.

Whatever happened at the club, whatever happened with Potter, whatever happened with Granger…well, he no longer cared.

He never thought that he'd fall so irrevocably, irreversibly in love with anyone. He hadn't even thought he was capable of loving anyone other than himself (and his mother of course).

He looked again at Hugh, searching his face for some kind of a reaction. And with a sinking feeling, he began to realize that Hugh was crying. Crying, with rivulets of tears streaming down a face that looked tragically up at him.

Alarm grabbed hold of him. He couldn't stop himself from babbling.

"I mean, I realize that this must come out of the blue for you. You must be shocked. Everything has happened very quickly. Take…take as long as you need to consider this…this isn't a joke. I'm…I'm not some weirdo trying to take the mickey out of you, I really…do feel for you, and you are gay, aren't you?" his voice had gone higher and higher as he realized that Hugh's tears were not stopping. The man just sat there, weeping as if he had just heard the worse news ever, as if…he was about to hurt someone, badly.

It had never occurred to Draco that once he confessed his feelings, they would not be returned. The possibility suddenly became all too real. Aghast, horrified, and feeling as if his heart were splintering into pieces, Draco backed away. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…I'll…I'll never bring this up again. You'll never have to endure this from me ever again. I won't bother you anymore…I – "

He turned and fled, and so did not hear Hermione's strangled call of his name.

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