A/N - Yes! I finally have it written! I was a bit stuck on how to write certain parts, but it's done now! So enjoy!

And may I also suggest that you listen to Alone by Coco and the Butterfields as you read this? Thanks!

Hermione woke up to the sound of an owl pecking at her window. She easily recognised it as the owl that had dropped the box to her in the Great Hall the other week, the one that had contained the bracelet.

With a start, Hermione realised that it was Draco's owl.

Momentarily forgetting that dawn hadn't even fully broken yet and that she had barely slept for 3 hours since curfew, she swung her legs over the bed and all but ran to the window to let the exhausted animal in. Her body almost felt like her whole life depended on knowing what the owl was sent for. Would it be a letter, as he'd promised? Alternatively, knowing how the Malfoy's were notoriously rich, he'd sent her another expensive gift. That, to her, seemed like the Malfoys way of showing affection. She wasn't entirely sure if her true self cared what was sent, but right now, as long as she had something of his or something from him, she didn't care. Hermione liked to believe that if this was a normal courtship, she'd return any sort of expensive thing he'd hand to her; but, then again, she thought, she was still wearing the sapphire bracelet (even when she didn't know who had sent it), wasn't she?

His owl didn't move from its seat on the windowsill once the window had been opened; it only, with what looked like great effort, stuck out its leg, showing Hermione three brilliantly coloured flowers and a note tied around the stems. Her heart fluttered at the flowers, but she quickly tried to shake it off. Still, she couldn't help but smile. She untied the knot holding the mail to the owl's leg, and as soon as it was released, she had to duck out the way of its wings as it lazily flew in and perched itself on her desk, falling asleep straight away. As she walked over to her bed, she untied the piece of parchment from the flowers and took a moment to stare at the front, appreciating the cursive lettering of her name. She flipped the parchment over and read the note, her heartbeat curiously picking up speed after every word that had been written. When it described what the specific flowers meant, she looked at them individually after reading the meaning, and every time her appreciation for each grew. However, she almost didn't find herself surprised to see that he'd used floriology instead of just choosing something random or cliché, such as a rose, but gave something with a meaning. Hermione felt that she almost preferred him to put his thoughts into something artistic – like the flowers, or even a poem perhaps – than maybe expressing himself in an overly dramatic way in his letters. Well, she did for now, at least.

Standing up, she quickly scanned the room for something that she could transfigure into a vase to keep the flowers. Her eyes landed briefly on the owl, but after realising that the owl might not be too happy to become a vase for an amount of time and that she'd eventually have to turn it back to send her reply, which would then again leave her without a vase, she dismissed the idea. With a sigh, she decided that she would just have to transfigure one of her shoes. Once done, she filled the vase with water and carefully placed the plants inside, arranging them neatly by her bedside table.

Hermione then walked back to the other side of her bed and picked up the letter, holding it as close to her face as she could, reading it again, as though it might bring them closer together. It was only then, did she realise that it smelled of Draco. At first, a part of her brain repelled the idea, wondering how she could possibly know the...scent (for a lack of a better word) of Malfoy when she was hardly around him much to be able to notice. Of course, the side that seemed to act as if it knew Draco Malfoy inside out when he wasn't around, won. Somehow being able to put his face to the smell immediately. Nevertheless, Hermione couldn't complain, it was almost a smoky smell of sandalwood, lemongrass and even a little bit of apples – the sort of smell that her brain would automatically call sexy. She fingered the corners of it for a minute, before setting it aside next to the vase and climbed back into bed feeling, in a way, at peace for the first time since yesterday. Hermione curled up under the blankets and fell asleep as quickly as the owl.

As Draco saw her approaching through the hazy fog, he breathed out a sigh of relief and ran toward her, full speed, before she vanished again, as had been happening the first several times.

He hadn't realised it before, and he was sure that if he hadn't then Hermione definitely didn't know either - but in order for them to have The Dream, they'd need to be asleep at the same time. Maybe it was stupid of him to assume otherwise since it was a shared dream, but it hadn't seemed to matter until now.

During sometime in the evening, after he had sent his owl, a House-Elf had appeared in his room, offering up a full vial of Dreamless Sleep. From his father, he had been told. Draco had snorted when it had happened, thinking that the potion was given to him for some ulterior motive of his father's since they both knew that the dispute over Hermione wasn't finished. With a shake of his head, he had thrust the vial back at the Elf and laughed him off.

Later that night, when the whole Manor was asleep, Draco was still up and pacing, unable to feel any form of exhaustion. He'd been wearing a hole in the floor for hours now, his legs not even feeling remotely tired or stiff; and his thoughts were never ceasing, always jumping onto the next thought and keeping himself occupied. Throwing himself on his bed, Draco shouted for an Elf, not caring if he woke up the whole household. Seconds after he called, an Elf had shown up and waited, quivering in his place, as he waited for his Master to give instruction; and when he finally stopped grumbling and did, the Elf was gone for no less than 10 seconds to retrieve the vial. Draco had then started questioning the Elf whether the vial had come from his father with any information, such as how much he should take, to which he had shook his head; no. That had lead to Draco becoming even more stressed. He dismissed the creature with just a look and proceeded to read the back of the potion about dosages and possible addictions.

Eventually, he had found a small part saying that for half-breeds (mostly for those creatures who had "Mates") should take at least 3 spoonfuls of it, for it to be most effective. Though, he read, breathing a sigh of relief, if a Veela consumed the potion, they would still have dreams of their Mate (if in that stage) and, if half-breed, the Veela side would only be placed into a semi-conscious state and the "wizard side" would be completely unconscious.

Shrugging, Draco did exactly as it said and then lay down on his bed, comfortably drowsy and partly content, and stared at the ceiling until his eyes had fluttered shut. When he didn't immediately go into what Hermione had called "the white infinity", he was stumped. It had felt like it had been days before he had suddenly appeared there, and then he was only there long enough to see the basic outline of what he thought was Hermione, before he was pulled out and placed back into the blackness of the inside of his eyes.

That had happened four more times before now, but it had only taken the next two experiences to come to the realisation of that she probably wasn't sleeping well. He was sure that his Veela would've howled at the thought of his Mate being kept awake like he was earlier instead of getting a healthy nights rest, but he barely felt much since the Veela was only semi-conscious, as the Dreamless Sleep had said.

As Draco became close enough to make out her features, he had thrown his head back and roared with manic laughter. Tonight, he had never come this close to her and now - now he was just within arms distance. She approached him warily, regarding him with curiosity as he continued, doubled-over, with his guffaws. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him as he straightened up so that she could be pressed to his chest. Though he was still laughing, he was beginning to sober up as he wrapped his arms tighter around her and Hermione smiled, feeling the glee rumble in his chest. He eventually quietened to a hum as he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to Hermione's forehead and breathed in the scent of her hair. He moaned something that sounded an awful lot like her name. "Merlin I've missed you. It's only been a day and I miss you like the desert misses the rain," Draco whispered against her head, all humour absent. He moved one of his arms further up her back and entangled his hand in her hair, lightly massaging her scalp.

Hermione sighed and unconsciously pressed herself more into Draco. "We don't have long," she murmured. "I don't know how fast time passes in here; I'll wake up soon."

"Then we best make the most of it," he said, pulling away slightly and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Hermione smiled, but smacked him in the chest. He chuckled and dropped to the floor, pulling Hermione with him, so that he lay in the bed of flowers with her on top of him. Draco shuffled a bit, trying to get in a comfortable position with his wings underneath him. As he did that, Hermione tried to blow her hair out of her face, unintentionally revealing her flushed cheeks to Draco who regarded her with amusement.

"Malfoy-" Hermione started as she looked anywhere other than his eyes, but she was cut off when Draco rolled them over so that she was pinned underneath him. She turned a darker shade of red as Draco's eyes bored into hers, filled with longing, desire and perhaps even love, and though it was just a dream, she felt incredibly hot.

"Mmm?" He hummed as he moved his face closer to hers, their noses now brushing, his eyes never leaving hers.

Hermione's eyes quickly flitted around the white expanse as his face came closer and closer. It wasn't as if she didn't want to kiss him – it was just that in here, The Dreamland, Hermione was just Hermione without any Veela attraction clouding her mind – and it was almost as if it was going too fast. His lips had just lightly brushed hers when she realised that she was lying in a bed of flowers, and, as she looked a bit harder, they were different from normal. "The flowers..." she murmured against his lips. "They're different."

Draco withdrew slightly, smiling lightly, and tore his eyes away from her briefly, to scan the flowers around her. He absently nodded his head; pushing himself onto his heels and helping Hermione sit up. "Yes. They are," he said, fingering one of the white plants before picking it and handing it to her. "These are orchids. They come in other colours obviously, but white – white is my favourite."

Hermione turned the flower over in her hands. It was very pretty, and, as she lifted it to her nose and smelled it, it was sweet too. Though, she decided, it wasn't her favourite, it was still high in her list. She fiddled with the stem in her lap and lifted her eyes to see that Draco was watching her curiously. He smiled tentatively when he realised that he had been caught staring and Hermione gave one back. Draco didn't look at her for much longer though, and directed his gaze to his lap; it seemed to Hermione that he had suddenly withdrawn into himself and that made her frown slightly; she dearly hoped that it wasn't because she didn't let him kiss her. She placed a fake smile back onto her lips before he noticed that there was something troubling her and took his hand, gaining his attention. He raised an eyebrow in a silent question, and she said, "What do they mean?"

The smile on his face stretched more on one side than the other, turning it into more of a smirk rather than a crooked smile. He stood up onto his feet and then tugged Hermione up to stand opposite him, pulling her close again and then taking the orchid out of her hands. He stretched his arm out slowly at first, so that she had time to push him away before he touched her, but once he saw that Hermione wasn't going to do anything to stop him, he brushed some of her hair behind her ear. "An orchid," he said softly as if reading from a book, amusement sparkling in his eyes, "means love; beauty; a beautiful lady and-" – he leaned in closer, whispering in her ear (though it slowly turned into more of a purr) as he placed the orchid in her hair – "it's the Chinese symbol for many children."

Hermione blinked as Draco's hands brushed her face and suddenly she was back in her room, awake, thanks to her alarm.

Hermione was having a bad day.

And she knew it was only going to get worse.

She had been constantly snapping at everyone since breakfast. From sweet Neville asking if she could pass him a sausage, to an innocent First Year who had accidentally bumped into her on her way to Potions. After the third time that Hermione had said something snarky or cruel to Ron, he had left her, Harry and Ginny, despite her calling after him as soon as it happened, saying that she was sorry; she couldn't help it; she didn't know what was wrong. Which was all truth (except for the last one - but Ron was angry enough at her for not trying to refuse Draco's affections, so saying that this was because of him, would've damaged their relationship even more and she wouldn't have been able to handle that.), but that didn't seem to stop him leaving. Ginny was next – not that Hermione had expected anything less from the Weasley temper – after Hermione had insulted her because of her constant pestering of details over Draco.

The only one that was left was Harry who was wisely deciding to keep his mouth shut in the case that he said something to upset her, and then when she retorted, have his anger take hold of him and leave. It wasn't her ideal situation, and she would've preferred to be alone if she couldn't enjoy her friends company, but she didn't want to get rid of him entirely, which was what she feared and so she had tried to not to say anything to him either. There was also Blaise, who she had not seen since he had escorted her to breakfast again that morning, after seeing that Harry and Ron had left and not wanting her to be "upset" again. After he had seen her face like thunder as she descended the steps to the common room, he had decidedly not said anything either, much like Harry was now.

Maybe she was just like this because she had woken up to see the flowers from earlier that morning, as well as the note that he had sent, she had thought. Alternatively, it could be just because she didn't have a good night's rest - or maybe it was because when she had woken up, there was an orchid pinned in her hair. She had cried for a bit, detesting herself a bit more for it, but ultimately let it happen because it was as if he had really been with her.

And that was why she both loved and hated the plant in her hair.

She had charmed the orchid to stay in her hair for the whole day, and, thankfully, no one had commented on its presence.

The classes were bad too - especially Potions. The emptiness of the chair next to her seemed to fill the universe, though she glared at Blaise when he tried to take the seat and anyone else who seemed to have the same idea. The same thing continued throughout the rest of the day, and eventually she relented and let her friends sit with her, too tired to keep sending them away. It even happened in the library when she was writing her essays for her respective classes, younger years would usually sit with her then, and fire questions at her about Veelas. She soon left after the fourth one was satisfied.

That was also another reason why she was grouchy. People just seemed to expect her to give out details of her personal life and relationship (though it wasn't much of one yet) with Draco out to them, just because they asked. Moreover, being Hermione, she was semi-reluctant to snap at them and make them upset in any way - especially when they were doe-eyed First Years - so she had to make everything quick, speaking through the gritted teeth of her fake smile. She had also gotten quickly tired of everyone trying to keep her company, as if she needed and depended on it now that he was gone, that she would just seem to wither away for some reason without anyone looking out for her at all times. She may have been a horribly emotional at the moment, she wanted to say, but that didn't mean that she was completely weak.

She let out a large breath and rolled her shoulders as she walked towards Transfiguration, a little voice in the back of her head saying that it'll all be over tomorrow when she sees him again, when he's back for good.

Lucius clasped his hands in front of him, looking Draco steadily in the eye, trying to ignore Narcissa's House Elves that were standing in all four corners of his office. His lips were pursed together as he internally fought a battle with his mind about what to do.

"Now father," Draco said. There was a smirk on his face as he leant towards his father on the table that was separating them. "Don't be like that. I know how much you and mother wanted me to be with Astoria – all planned, wasn't it? Imagine if it was Astoria; don't tell me your decision would be the same in that case."

Lucius didn't answer, just stared, imagining all the ways that he could wipe the insufferable smirk off his son's face. He knew what Draco was trying to do, coaxing him in subtle ways to lose his temper and place Narcissa's wrath in his direction. When Draco was feeling this sort of sadism, he was clever, and though it could be frightening, Lucius had experienced it himself when he was in Draco's place.

"Don't let the fact that it is Hermione Granger change your decision. I am your son and because of him, the whole bloody school knows and how long before parents who could be reporters, catch wind of this? I would like to bring up the point once more that this is technically your fault, if you hadn't murdered-"

"Enough Draco!" Lucius roared, banging his fists on the table and causing the House Elves to flinch. Draco leaned back in his chair, his grin turning smug as he heard pops of Apparition and watched the Elves disappear one-by-one, no doubt to tell Narcissa. "Enough," he said quieter this time. "Fine. I'll speak to the Minister of Magic tomorrow morning and make sure that the Magical Creatures Department is present and we'll see if the appeal goes your way. Hopefully, if it does, well, this Innes character will be on probation for a few months at least."

"Good," he said happily, as his eyes slowly slid towards the door as his sharp ears picked up the sound of his mother moving upstairs. He stood up from his seat, leaning on the table as he spoke his condition. "But I get to be there. They'll need my memories after all, especially since I'm the one who is appealing. I need to make sure that they understand why this is affecting me, personally."

Lucius snorted. As if, he thought, that they would listen to a 17-year-old boy who had a temper that would flare at any given moment, one that would make it his mission to make everyone uncomfortable. However, maybe that would make them listen, Lucius reasoned. "Your argument is valid," he said through gritted teeth.

Draco looked triumphant and satisfied, and pushed his chair in as he made towards the door, fully intending to open it as soon as his mother was outside, letting her in to shout at his father. Lucius' ears pricked up as the steps became closer and closer. Every footfall on the steps was a pounding heartbeat in his chest. His nails bit into the skin on his hands as he clenched them. He didn't want Narcissa angry with him – never did he want that. It made him feel even worse than a monster, though he had tried hard not to be riled up by Draco's taunting. Draco was younger than he was, he shouldn't have been so affected by what he was saying. He shouldn't have taken so long to agree to his decision to get "Jayson Innes" a larger punishment for what he had done. It was at this point, as Narcissa was half way down the stairs that Lucius had decided that he would do anything – anything – to save his skin from her.

That included making a deal with Draco, no matter how much it repulsed him.

Through tightly gritted teeth, he looked at Draco who was watching him with a childish glee from the door, and said, "You convince your mother that I've..." Lucius sneered. "Accepted Granger and will help you – convince your mother that nothing is wrong and all is resolved – and I'll see if I can get the other Governors to you and only you to be able to Apparate in and out of Hogwarts."

Draco narrowed his eyes, baring his teeth slightly. "Why would you do that?"

Lucius glared back. "Don't look gift horses in their mouths," he warned. "Do you want to be able to woo the girl or not?"

Draco warred with himself over whether to accept the offer or not. It was a good deal, looking, to himself, mostly in his favour. All he would have to do was lie to save his father's skin...He eased his grip on the handle slightly and grinned at Lucius before opening the door. Just as Narcissa burst through and was about to start a tirade on Lucius, Draco stepped in front of her and explained.

Malfoy,

The message had gotten across beautifully. Thank you so much for the flowers; your garden must be gorgeous if those came from it. I miss you dearly too, as much as the other half of me doesn't want to admit it. I've felt out of sorts since you left. Too emotional. Too snappish. Too un-Hermione.

Please excuse the absence of your owl by the way; he (she?) was exhausted after her long flight from your Manor (I presume that is where you are residing since you sent flowers from there only hours ago). Your owl is actually still asleep on my desk as I write this, and so this is its replacement - Blaise's owl, Hunter, as you probably already know.

Hermione

Grabbing a bottle of perfume, Hermione did the same as Draco and sprayed the corner of the parchment, before sending it off with Hunter, whom had been generously offered to her by Blaise.

A/N - Please favourite, follow and review! Can I try get at least 190 reviews by next chapter?