AN: At long last, here is the next chapter. This story is getting increasingly harder to write. I had the beginning well planned out, and the end was fairly set... the middle however... more like a mushy, undefined bit. It's kinda like how in a trilogy, the second one is always the worst one. But at any rate...

I finished Deathly Hallows! Actually I finished it 5:30 AM July 22 (I only got it at 10 PM July 21!). Now, I shan't reveal anything for those who haven't read it (and I'll request that reviews be spoiler-free as well... but you knew that already), but I must say... wtf?! about some of the character deaths. They made me so mad! Of course, if characters we didn't care about died, what would be the point in that? Oh, is that revealing too much? I hope not! But at any rate, it was an enjoyable endeavor, and a fitting end to the series. I can't believe it's over though! So depressing. Oh, and my ship has officially sunk. I mean obviously Draco and Hermione were never going to happen (says inner me: LA LA LA I CAN'T HEAR YOU), but now with Book 7... le sigh.

Thank you to my wonderful reviewers: Avanell, Mela, confusednikki24-7, cmtaylor531, lostxatx7thxsea, ShatteredTruth, BlueIrishEyes, missbookwormmalfoy, and Hermione09Weasley. I truly am grateful for all your comments and they do help a lot. And BIE... yes. I was channeling teh Yoda. I heart Star Wars.

Strangely enough, the thing that held me back for a while with this one was the title of the chapter. Weird, right?

I apologise in advance for typos and that sort. This chapter has not been betaed. (gasp.)


Stand and Watch It Burn

XIV. Decisions and Denials

"Hey, love," Ginny said, greeting Harry when he finally arrived at the table.

"Hey, sorry I'm late," Harry replied, giving Ginny a quick kiss before sitting down at his seat.

"What would you like to drink, Mr. Potter?" asked the waiter who had been very attentively standing nearby.

"Butterbeer, please," Harry said.

"And for you, Miss?"

"Water will be fine," Ginny replied.

The waiter nodded. "Very well, I shall return shortly to take your orders," he said.

After perusing the menu for a while, Ginny set it down. "So what kept you, Harry?"

"Busy at work," Harry mumbled as he tried to decide what to order. Should he get the steak or lamb chops?

"Get the steak, Harry. You always regret it when you get lamb."

"Wha…?" Harry stared up confusedly.

Ginny merely smiled. "You always get that look when you're trying to decide between one thing and something else. And at this restaurant you only get steak or lamb. Every time you choose lamb, you always go on and on afterward about how you should have chosen the steak. So do us both a favour and choose the steak."

Harry scowled slightly. "Fine. I was going to choose steak anyway," he added with an air of defiance.

"So what were you busy with?"

Before Harry could respond, the waiter had returned, as promised, with their drinks and to take their orders. Ginny placed her order, and then Harry did too. The waiter then disappeared to place them in the kitchen.

"So," Ginny said, fluffing her napkin and placing it on her lap, "you were saying?"

"Mmf?" Harry asked, his mouth full of bread.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Chew," she ordered, "then talk."

Harry chewed what was in his mouth and swallowed. "A lot of things."

"Today was eventful, I take it."

"You have no idea," Harry mumbled. Ginny raised her eyebrows at this.

"Is something wrong?" Ginny asked, slightly alarmed.

Harry shrugged. "Depends what you mean by wrong, I suppose."

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Is this work-related or something else?"

"Both."

"Both," Ginny repeated. "Well, let's start with the something else."

"Well, you know Draco Malfoy checks in with me every week…"

"Isn't that work-related?"

Harry sighed. "Unfortunately not."

Ginny twisted her lips. "All right, then you have some explaining to do."

"As part of his parole, he checks in with me once a week until his three month term is over. And he checked in with me today. It's really quick, actually. I just ask him a few questions, he answers them, I check his wand, and he's off on his way doing… Merlin knows what," Harry said. He paused. "It doesn't seem like he really does much."

Ginny sighed. "What can he do? He was convicted as a Death Eater and thrown into Azkaban. People still remember that. It's not like he can just go out and frolic in the streets."

"Sometimes, I wonder," Harry said, "if maybe we were wrong about him…"

Ginny looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," Harry said uneasily. What did he mean? "It's just a feeling I get around him sometimes. Maybe… Maybe we made a mistake."

Ginny said nothing for a while. Her eyes were looking down, fixed on the table cloth. "What's the problem with Malfoy?" she finally asked, her voice sounding rather restricted. Clearly, she had decided to not address Harry's statement.

Harry wisely decided to let what he said before go. He knew how Ginny felt and ruled it unsafe to cross her. "Well, today was his day to check in, which he did with punctuality. Malfoy's never late. I had just checked his wand and was about to let him go when we received a rather unexpected visitor." Harry stopped and cleared his throat. "Hermione came into my office."

Ginny's eyebrows flew up. "Hermione?" she asked, alarmed.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Hermione."

"What was she doing there?"

"Ron left some papers at home. Urgent papers. So Hermione came to drop them off, but I'm guessing since Ron was out doing some field work she decided to leave them with me instead. My door wasn't locked or even closed, so she just walked in without knocking."

Ginny's eyes were very wide. "What happened then?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"Hermione jumped back and kept shouting apologies and then she slammed the door. It was rather… abrupt."

"And Malfoy?"

"He didn't say much."

"Nothing at all?"

"Well, Hermione had Aiden with her, and Malfoy saw… So he asked me if that was Aiden and I told him yes. He didn't such much else."

Ginny pressed her lips together tightly. "Should we be worried?"

Harry started to shake his head but then stopped. "I'm not sure," he said a bit hesitantly. "I doubt Malfoy would go looking for her…"

"I mean… should we be worried about their safety?"

"No!" Harry's outburst was a little loud, and patrons at nearby tables turned to see what the commotion was. Many, seeing that it was the Boy Who Lived Again smiled and waved and called out greetings. Harry abashedly waved back. When the clamor had died down a bit, he turned again to Ginny. "That's crazy, Gin. I know how you feel about Malfoy, but even you have to admit that the idea of Malfoy hurting Hermione or her son is outlandish."

Ginny crossed her arms. "And if he goes to find Hermione?"

"I warned him about it before and I believe he said to me that he wasn't that stupid." Harry leaned forward. "But I'm actually more worried about Hermione. When I went back out to look for her, she wasn't there. I thought she might wait for me outside in the hallway, but she had disappeared."

"Hermione has been acting a bit strangely of late," Ginny admitted. "Maybe being stuck at home all the time doing nothing but housework and taking care of Aiden is starting to get to her. My mum can do it, but not Hermione. You know that Hermione's more used to being active and using her mind. I told Ron to let Mum take care of Aiden and let Hermione go back to work."

"Yeah," Harry said quietly.

Ginny seemed to be considering something. "Should I talk to her?"

"Do you think you should?"

"I don't know," Ginny said. She bit her lip. "She mentioned Malfoy to me over a month ago."

Harry stared at her. "She what?"

"It was after the article in The Daily Prophet came out saying Malfoy might be released. She also mentioned something about a dream…"

Now Harry looked very alarmed. "A dream?! Why didn't you mention this before?"

"She hasn't asked again," Ginny said defensively. "It was just a dream, Harry. It could mean anything. Maybe reading about Malfoy in the paper again made her think of him. Hermione only found any significance in the dream because in it he called her by her first name."

Harry rapped his fingers on the table. "She hasn't mentioned it again?" he asked.

Ginny shook her head. "Not once." She smiled assertively at Harry. "Hermione and I are best friends. She tells me about everything. She has never lied to me, and I've never lied to her… save for one thing." Ginny's smile faded slightly. "But, Harry, I'm sure if something were happening, I would be the first person Hermione would tell. She never hesitates to owl me or Floo in the middle of the night if something's bothering her or if she and Ron had a row."

"You're probably right," Harry said, trying to convince himself. "We're not sure, and we shouldn't… if she doesn't remember…"

"It's better," Ginny agreed. "But what about Ron…?"

"No," Harry immediately said. "We can't tell Ron."

Ginny looked at Harry before nodding. "He'll just worry, and there may be nothing to worry about at all."

The two of them sat in silence, each contemplating the situation, both fearing the worst but praying for the best… praying that their greatest fears were completely unfounded…

"What was your work-related problem?"

Harry blinked. "Oh. Well, this morning, a few urgent papers were sent over to Ron, but he must have forgotten… anyway, there's been a small breakout in Azkaban. A few high security cells were compromised. The guards were able to recapture most of the escaped prisoners, but one of them managed to slip out." Harry grimaced.

"Who?"

"Lucius Malfoy."

x x x

Hermione didn't know what to do.

She had stayed up half the night before, tossing and turning, thinking and debating about what she must do next. Ron had grumbled this morning about her fretting making him sleep poorly as well. She sighed. She had tried so hard to lay still. It wasn't as if she wanted to announce to Ron that something like this was bothering her.

As she paced back and forth in her living room, Hermione kept thinking about what Olivia had said. "Whatever you choose, I'm sure it'll be for the best." How could she possibly know? Hermione sighed and sat down on her sofa, letting her head drop onto one of the throw pillows. What was the best? She didn't know. She couldn't say.

Maybe… maybe the best was things as they are now. She had lived so well for three years not knowing what happened three years ago, she probably could keep living on without ever knowing. Quite happily too, Hermione noted. After all, wasn't she happy? She married a man who loved her, and she had a perfect child whom she adored. Wasn't this all she had ever dreamed about and hoped for?

But something had been missing. Hermione had thought that maybe it was because she was no longer working. There was a bit of a void, almost as if she were missing a part of herself. Ever since she had begun remembering things in her past, though, she had felt a little less empty, almost as if she were rediscovering parts of herself. Like she was finding things she never even knew she had lost. And Hermione knew she simply could not live on, knowing that there was something that happened three years ago that she could not remember. Now that she knew, she could not be content not learning what it was she had forgotten. Perhaps they were frivolous, unimportant events. She had a right to know, regardless. But her instincts told her they were not…

I've come too far, Hermione thought. All the work she had done, all the digging and searching and speculating, all the lies… Hermione winced. But I had to, she thought firmly to herself. I had no choice.

She had to find out what happened three years ago. She had to know, and she was going to find out.

Hermione went to Aiden's room, picked him up, and brought him over to the fireplace. After conjuring up a fire, she took some Floo powder and threw it into the flames.

"Olivia Pinkerton!" There was a popping sound and Hermione put her head in.

"Hermione?" Olivia swiveled at the sound to look at her fire.

"Olivia, I've made my decision. I'm going to see Malfoy. Would you mind if lI eft Aiden with you?"

"Not at all. I'm sure Robby would like a playmate."

"Thank you. I'll be over in a minute."

Hermione pulled her head out and looked over at her son. "How would you like that Ai? Would you like to go to Auntie Olivia's and play with Robby?" Aiden smiled up at his mother. "Of course you would," she cooed. "Well, let's be off!" Hermione picked him up and stepped in through the fire.

Olivia lived in a small, modest house. Though it was small, it was a very cozy place. The wooden floors were covered with warm carpets, and the walls were painted a serene sea green. Olivia stood in front of the fireplace, Robby by her side. She smiled as Hermione arrived.

"Hello," she said. "Say hi, Robby."

The little sandy-haired boy with light blue eyes looked up shyly at Hermione from behind his mother's legs. "Hi Auntie Herm… Herm…"

"Her-my-oh-nee," Olivia enunciated clearly.

"Herm… Hermione."

"Hello, Robby," Hermione said, crouching down so she was at eye level with him. "How have you been?"

"Good," he answered. Robby pointed at the little boy in Hermione's arms. "Is that Aiden?"

Hermione smiled. "Why, yes it is. Would you like to help your mum take care of him and play with him for the afternoon?"

Robby beamed. "Okay!"

Hermione straightened up. "Thank you for watching him, Olivia. I'm…"

"No need," Olivia said, taking Aiden from Hermione. "Don't worry about him; I'll take care of him, I promise. You have things to attend to."

"Yeah. I'm just not sure if it's the right thing…"

Olivia patted Hermione on the shoulder reassuringly. "I hoped you would go talk to him," she admitted. "That is what I thought you should do, but I didn't want to interfere with your own decision. It is your decision, Hermione. You can still change your mind now. But would you really be content not knowing when you're so close?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Right, then. So you know what you must do."

"You're right," Hermione said. "I… I guess I just needed someone to agree with me."

"Any time," Olivia joked. She gave Hermione a curious look. "How are you going to get there?"

"I'm going to Apparate right outside Malfoy Manor and…"

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "And how do you know where that is?"

"I…" Hermione stopped. How did she know? "I don't know. I… I just do."

x x x

"Bloody insects," Draco grumbled.

He was out in his garden again. Lately, it seemed to him, he was in there more often than not. The physical work kept him from thinking too much. It also made him feel productive. Draco hadn't left the house much other than to check in with Harry. Besides gardening, he passed most of his time either stalking around the house or reading in the library. Seeing his garden flourish gave him some sense of fulfillment and meaning. But most importantly, it gave him something to focus on that wasn't… well…

A few weeks ago, Draco had had to deal with a strange weedy takeover. Today, the problem was insects. A lot of them. They had, it seemed, declared war on Draco's columbines. His lovely violet blooms were dotted with strange insects that simply wouldn't go away.

Draco narrowed his eyes, staring at the insects. There was one easy way of solving this.

"Fugo Lues."

In an instant, every unsightly pest had been forcibly removed from the columbines. Draco smirked. He usually tried to avoid using magic in his garden, but he did make exceptions sometimes, for very special cases. This was definitely a special case.

Draco – 1. Annoying buggers – 0, he thought triumphantly.

Small victory maybe, but a victory nonetheless. At least he was winning something. His other scorecard was something like World – 238,743, Draco – 0. Draco scowled and shook his head. No. Must focus on the positive.

Draco began making his rounds, watering and inspecting his plants. He worked from the outer edges of his garden to the centre. He always worked from the edges inward.

As he neared the centre though, he slowed down, taking more time to examine each individual plant. Finally, he came upon the very heart of his garden… and he was shocked by what he saw.

Draco stared in utter disbelief. It can't be, he thought. Carefully, he reached out and grazed his fingertips on it. It was real, so very real.

Sitting primly on the once barren bush was a single, white rose. Draco touched it again, taking hold of one of the petals. Between his fingers, he could feel its soft velvetiness. He still couldn't believe it. It hasn't bloomed for three years… It hadn't bloomed all the time this summer… But now it had. And Draco could see other small buds too. Soon, the bush would be filled with beautiful white roses. For the first time since his release from Azkaban, Draco's face broke out into a genuine smile.

For a few minutes, Draco stood there, adoring that one blossom. He took his pruning sheers and carefully cut off the rose, taking care to rid it of the thorns as well.

There was a loud crack. "Young Master?"

Draco turned around. "Hetty?"

"Young Master has a guest waiting for you in the sitting room," Hetty squeaked.

A guest? Who could possibly be visiting him? "Thank you, Hetty," Draco said, nodding. He hadn't had guests since his release. Draco felt slightly heady with excitement. "I'll be there shortly."

x x x

Half an hour earlier…

Earlier that day, Hermione had been pacing in her living room. Now she was pacing by the front gates of Malfoy Manor.

She had decided she wanted to know. She had decided she would come. Now she was here. And yet, she could not bring herself to go in.

The main reason, Hermione told herself, was because simply she did not know how to enter. Was she to knock? There was nothing to knock on. Could she just push the gates open? Maybe there was some secret password she had to say before she could be granted access. The password was probably something Slytherin-y like "pureblood" or "Mudblood" or some other thing having to do with blood.

"Bloody hell," Hermione mumbled.

The other reason – and it was only a very, very small part – was because despite her determination to go ask Malfoy, she was still afraid. Afraid of what he might say. Afraid of what he might do. Afraid of what he might tell her. And even more afraid… that he would say nothing at all.

After twenty more minutes of deliberation, Hermione stopped pacing, turned toward the gates, and pushed on them.

They didn't open.

Hermione threw up her arms. "For Merlin's sake!" she hollered. "What the bloo – "

"Is Miss looking for someone?"

Hermione practically jumped three feet in the air. Standing in front of her, on the other side of the gates, was a small house elf, dressed in a bed sheet.

"Yes, I'm looking for…"

"Oh, Miss, it's you! Hetty didn't recognize! Hetty apologises… it's been so long. Please come in!" With a wave of her hand, the house elf opened the front gates.

Recognize? Hermione looked at the house elf, utterly confused. The house elf, however, did not seem to notice, instead beckoning Hermione to follow her.

Hermione followed Hetty through Malfoy Manor. Her head was constantly spinning, trying to take everything in. No wonder Malfoy acted like such a swotty prince at Hogwarts. The place he grew up in was practically a palace. Marble floors, sweeping staircases, crystal chandeliers, silk curtains! It was breathtakingly beautiful, though coldly austere. For all its grandeur, it lacked the warmth and coziness a humbler place like the Burrow had that could make it a home.

Hetty had led Hermione into a small blue room with two upright armchairs facing an empty fireplace. After closing the door, Hetty turned to Hermione. "Would Miss like tea?"

"No thank you, Hetty. I'd like to see Mal… er, Draco, please."

"Oh, certainly, Miss! Please takes a seat while I go gets the Young Master." Hetty disappeared with a loud crack.

Slowly, Hermione walked over to one of the chairs and sat down. This room… Her fingers traced the swirling silver designs on the blue fabric of the armchair.

"This room needs a little a little something…"

"What is it now?"

"Silver accents. To bring out the silver in the fabric."

"You sound unbearably like my mother. Like Pansy."

"I mean it! This room would be so much lovelier…"

Hermione's eyes wandered across the room. The paintings hanging on the walls were set off by silver frames. Silver accents…

x x x

Perhaps I should change… Draco looked down at his current attire. He was, at the moment, dressed for gardening, not receiving guests. His grey work robes were covered with dirt and twigs and leaves. His father would have an absolute fit if he knew that Draco was receiving guests in the manor in such a dowdy fashion.

Draco smirked slightly. Mustn't keep my guest waiting, he thought. Father would be so proud.

As he drew nearer to the sitting room, he wondered who his guest might be. Draco had been so shocked by Hetty's announcement of a guest that he hadn't thought to ask her who it was. No matter, he thought cheerfully. I'll find out soon enough. He mentally ran through a list of people of his guest might be. It wasn't very long. Blaise? He hadn't seen Zabini in ages. Zabini and his mother, though sympathetic toward the Dark Lord during the war, had never taken an official stance either way. Pansy? His mother had informed him last week that she had married Theodore Nott less than a year ago. Maybe it was Davids, coming in to check on his charity case…

He could see the door of the sitting room now. It was shut. As he got closer, his footsteps unwillingly slowed. For some reason, Draco felt a strange sense of foreboding filling his stomach. It wasn't a pleasant feeling at all. He tried to ignore it. Forcing his feet to keep moving, he continued down the hallway.

x x x

The sound of footsteps approaching echoed through the hallway. Hermione took a few deep breaths. The footsteps were getting nearer and louder. As they got closer, they seemed to slow down a little until they stopped, right outside the door. Hermione turned her body slightly so that she was now facing the door. She could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest and her stomach fluttering with anticipation. What would he say? What would she say? Suddenly, Hermione felt utterly foolish. She hadn't even thought about what she would say to him! This was all going to go wrong. Maybe she could call Hetty and tell her she made a mistake before...

Then the door opened, and he stepped through. Hermione could only stare.

It was Draco Malfoy, but not like she ever remembered seeing him. He was dressed in simple dark grey robes with edges that looked like they had been trailed in dirt. His hair was slightly messy. In his hand, he held a single white rose. When the door had swung fully open, she caught sight of his face. There was a slight smile on his face, as if he were genuinely pleased about something. His eyes were warm and unguarded.

The expression on his face changed quickly when he recognized her. Instead of the contempt or disgust that Hermione had expected, Malfoy appeared shocked and surprised.

His reaction slipped out before he had a chance to compose himself. "Hermione?"

Time stopped. In the next few seconds, weeks and months of images flew through her mind. The cabin. Snow. The coming of spring. All the small snippets of what she had thought might be memories finally came together seamlessly into a cohesive whole. Finally, she remembered. She knew what Ron, Harry, and everyone had been hiding from her.

Hermione stood up unsteadily. She looked up and into his eyes. Finally, she knew.

"Draco," she whispered.

AN: AT LAST. THEY MEET AGAIN AND GASP. SHE REMEMBERS. But what does she remember, exactly? Ah, for that my friends, you must review to discover...

But at any rate, I consider this chapter important on other levels too. Firstly, Ginny and Harry's discussion over what to do. I wasn't really sure how to kick off this chapter initially, but I decided that we needed to see what other people are thinking. (Notably, we have really yet to see how Ron feels... oops, have I said too much?) While this is about Draco and Hermione, it's also about the people around them too. Ginny is sure that Hermione would lie to her, just as she'd never lie to Hermione... except for about one thing. And Hermione never has lied to Ginny... except for one thing. Oh, what complicated webs we weave!

Secondly, we learn what the urgent papers were about! BIE, you almost hit it. I'm not a big fan of CPDs (convenient plot devices) so most everything I put in does have some significance. Just in case anyone was wondering: Ron did eventually remember about the papers, and he and Harry straightened that out. I tried writing the scene in, but it didn't fit. But anyway LUCIUS MALFOY IS ON THE RUN.

I wasn't sure if Hermione would be so indecisive. I'll admit now that I've actually put a lot of myself into Hermione... mostly because young Hermione is one I most relate to. In my younger years "know-it-all" and "bossy" were common adjectives thrown at me. I love reading. A lot of Hermione's favourite titles are also mine. That is why Hermione is so indecisive... because I know I would be. It is a monumental decision, after all. Who wouldn't be?

Hm. Longest author notes ever. Well, I hope you liked this chapter. The next update should be soon. Review please!