A/N I know this hardly resembles a chapter but I thought I'd post what little I had to let you know I haven't given up on this and that there will be more, hopefully soon. Thank, Jack.

Hermione threw herself into her school work, Blaise threw himself into finding a job and a house for him and Hermione and Draco threw himself into therapy. He called upon the marriage councillor, Dr Hammond. The attractive young therapist had been surprised to see the single Slytherin in his doorway but had invited him, eager to meet the man Mrs Hermione Zambini had loathed so much to be Head Girl with.

Draco sat in one of the armchairs scattered around the room, first sneering at the long couch in disdain. He didn't really want to be here but he knew something had to give with the Hermione situation. Draco had thought that living side by side with her would emphasise all her annoying habits and he would lose interest. But in the two weeks since Hermione's accident, his respect for her had just grown. She was neat and unobtrusive, she only brought her friends to the Head common room when she knew he wouldn't be there and they were gone well before he was due to return. He had befriended a painting hanging above the fireplace and the young woman in it kept him informed of all the comings and goings. And the fact that he was now befriending paintings was worrying to him.

Draco spent long hours wandering the grounds, trying to wrap his mind around the drastic change in his life. The whole school was aware of his obsession with the Gryffindor and though he still commanded respect with a single withering look, he had lost all friendships and right now Hogwarts was a lonely place to be. Not that he let that show. He didn't want anyone to know just how much loving Hermione had cost him. Especially Hermione.

"I'm sorry," Dr Hammond said, looking confused, when Draco explained what the problem was. "I was under the impression you and Mrs Zabini had a rather large dislike for each other."

Draco cocked and eyebrow and the tharapist elaborated. "We live in a school. People talk."

"Well you must be behind in your gossip, Doc, because that's not what they are saying now."

"And how do you feel about what people are saying about you?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Will you ask my about my childhood next?"

Dr Hammond chuckled and his magicked quill made a note on the parchement lying on his desk. Draco eyed it a moment before turning back to the therapist.

"I need you to tell me how to stop feeling like this."

Dr Hammond sighed. Councilling pureblood wizards and witches were always harder then muggle borns. Purebloods didn't understand the process, they expected a quick fix, a spell or a potion.

"It doesn't work like that, Draco. There are no magic words, no ingrediants to get just right. Any spell or potion I give you would be a temporary fix. You need to talk about, deal with it, face it head on. Hoping these feelings will go away by simply desiring them to is only going to upset you and frustrate you further."

Draco had glared at the young doctor and agreed to come back later in the week, and twice a week after that. He did indeed talk about his childhood, about his father and his death, about his mother wasn't dealing with it, about how Draco felt like the family's responsibilities now rested on his shoulders, but none of it helped with his feelings with Hermione, they continued to grow.