Just like the first time Hermione spent the night at Draco's, she was again awoken by an owl. She furrowed her brow and scrunched her nose as the owl ruffled its feathers in her face. Sure, it was trying to be gentle and it was a great deal better than the last owl that had tapped its beak incessantly into her forehead, but nonetheless she found it irritating. Hermione waved the owl away and it fell down onto Draco's face causing him to wake up with a startle.

"Wassat, wha-what's going on?" Draco grumbled, only half awake and found an owl sitting on his lap, quirking its head quizzically at him. It softly screeched and dropped the letter, satisfied that one of them was awake to recognize his good work of delivering the letter before it flew off.

Draco looked over the edge of the couch, Hermione had fallen back asleep. He decided it best not to wake her. He looked at the letter resting by his knee and knew that the contents had to be related to the events of last night. He picked it up and decided it best not to give it to Hermione until after she had washed up and had something to eat. He knew that in all likelihood, she wouldn't be hungry. But he would insist that she ate something. He knew from experience that if you let grief control your appetite in the beginning, you will have a difficult time regaining it.

He pulled himself off the floor and set off to make breakfast after taking a quick shower.

/

Draco came back to the living room holding two plates with bacon, eggs and toast. Hermione was still asleep.

He set the plates down and gently awoke her.

"Hermione-Hermione, wake up."

She peered an eye at him and then stubbornly shut it again before rolling back over.

"No, none of that. It's well past eleven, you need to get up. I made you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry," she mumbled into the pillow.

"I didn't ask you if you were hungry," said Draco sternly. He tried to roll her back over but she was insistent on not being moved.

"Leave me alone," she groaned.

"No, Hermione. You need to eat something, and take a shower."

"Why?" asked Hermione, childishly pouting as she turned back around to glare at him.

"Because you smell like-," Draco struggled with his words, "to be frank, Hermione- you smell like smoke."

Hermione painfully shut her eyes and pulled the blanket over her head. "I don't want to be awake any more."

Draco could hear that she was about to cry again. He gently pulled the blanket down past her face. Her eyes were welling with tears and her lip was quivering. Once again, it broke his heart to see her that way.

"I know that it hurts, it's going to hurt for a while but you have to take care of yourself."

"I-I can't, I don't want to." She was gasping as she spoke as if she were about to hyperventilate to keep herself from crying. Draco didn't want her to hold back her tears. He wanted her to be open with him, cry freely and allow herself to be weak.

"Then let me take care of you," he placed his hand lovingly on her knee. He picked up her plate and passed it to her. "Eat something, please. It doesn't have to be a lot, just something. I promise that it will help."

She took a moment to comprise herself before taking the plate from his hand. She ate in small nibbles, feeling guilt in every swallow. All she could think of was the fact that Ron could no longer eat, he could no longer speak, no longer laugh, smile, talk or do anything. Ron was dead, and she was alive and it made her feel terrible. The realization suddenly made her feel nauseous and she wasn't sure if she could keep her food down.

She practically threw the plate back down onto the coffee table as she pushed the covers off of her in order to escape the couch. She was grateful that she knew where Draco's room was because she knew it was connected to a bathroom. Within seconds of opening the bathroom door, she fell to her knees and got sick in the toilet.

Draco could hear her vomiting all the way in the living room.

"Well, I guess she's done with this huh?" he said to himself as he cleared their dishes. He heard the shower turn on when he went into his room to return the pillows and blankets.

He sat on his bed and waited for her to come out.

It didn't take long before the door opened and she came out. Her clothes looked considerably nicer than they had the night before. He suspected that she had used magic to fix the singed ends. Her face was red and he knew that she had been crying in the shower.

"Feel any better?"

She shrugged, walked over and sat down next to him.

"This came for you this morning." He passed her the note.

She unraveled it and read.

Hermione,

Are you alright? Ginny and I were notified this morning that your house burned down and that they found Ron dead inside. What is going on? What happened? Ginny and I looked for you at St. Mungos but they said that you never checked in there. Are you with Draco? I don't know where he lives and I want to see you and make sure you're alright. Ginny is devastated. I'm sure it would help the both of us to understand what took place last night. I hope that you're okay. Ginny and I both love you and would never want to see you hurt. Let me know where you are as soon as you get this.

H. Potter

Hermione's hands were trembling as she gripped the letter.

"What's wrong?" asked Draco, concerned with her reaction.

"They're going to know it was my fault. They're going to be able to see right through me. I know they're going to blame me."

Draco took the letter out of her hand and read it for himself. "Hermione, love, they just want to know that you're alright. Of course they want to know what happened. Ron was Ginny's brother."

Hermione cringed; she hated how easily Draco had adapted to the past tense version of Ron. It made her skin crawl to have to realize she too would have to adapt to the fact he was gone.

"Would it be easier for you if they came here? If that's what you need then I'm okay with that." Draco offered.

"No, I- I think that I should go there." Hermione insisted.

"Okay, then let me come with you."

"I don't think that's a good idea Draco."

"I don't care if it's a good idea Hermione. You need me right now and I'm going to be here for you. You're a mess. You have every right to be a mess, but the fact remains that you're taking this very hard and I don't think you should be by yourself when you tell them how he died. You can't know how they'll take it."

"I do know, they're going to hate me and they have every right to."

"That's not true. No one is going to blame you for what he did Hermione. Let me throw something else on. Write him back and then we'll go."

Hermione didn't move. "Uh-Draco…"

"Hmm?" Draco was already pulling out his drawer to pick out a new shirt.

"I-I don't have anything to wear." Hermione was still in her pajama bottoms and tank top. Then it just hit her like a ton of bricks; she had lost everything in the fire. She collapsed into herself and began to weep.

"I'm sorry Hermione. I didn't realize until now…I'm sorry. I'll help you get restarted. We'll find you a better place and make it work, I promise you." Draco set his shirt down and went to console her, wrapping her in his arms.

"I-I didn't have very many things of sentimental value, at least that wasn't attached to Ron. I-I should be able to replace almost everything I lost, I'm sure of it," Hermione convinced herself out loud.

"What about your books?" Draco was almost afraid to ask.

"I'm such an idiot. The home library was the only room I had safeguarded against fire. I thought, you know, just in case there was a small fire started in the library than my collection would be safe. I never dreamed that my entire home would go up in flames one day. I should have been prepared; none of this would have happened if I had been."

"Stop blaming yourself. There is nothing you could have done to prevent this. And remember, you still have your library, nothing has happened to that." Draco tried to be optimistic. "Also, I'm sure Harry has some pictures of you with Ron that he'd be willing to share."

"Right, if he doesn't hate me after I tell him I'm the reason Ron's dead."

Draco gave her a scolding look, "Stop talking like that Hermione. He's not going to think that. Now, I'm pretty sure I have some of Pansy and Astoria's clothes in the basement if it's not going to be too weird for you to wear them? There are probably a couple pairs of shoes down there as well."

"Sure, I guess. I mean- it's all I have to work with right now."

"Okay, come on. We'll find you something."

They walked downstairs and pulled out a couple of secluded boxes that had clothes in them. Hermione found an outfit rather quickly and they headed backstairs. She decided it wasn't the best time to ask him why he still had some of his ex-wives' things lying around in his basement.

She took a deep breath and wrote a reply on the back of Harry's letter.

Harry

I'm at Draco's place. I'm not hurt and I'm coming over to explain everything right now. Draco is coming with me, I hope that's alright. I need him to help me get through this right now. I hope you understand.

Hermione

Hermione used Draco's eagle owl to send it off before she taking hold of Draco's hand, getting ready to apparate.

"Draco," she spoke before stepping forward to send them off.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you for being here for me."

Draco gave her a small smile and reassuringly squeezed her hand. "Of course, it's where I belong."

Hermione returned the small smile. It was weak and weighed down with grief, but it was honest. She squeezed his hand one more time for a quick burst over courage, stepped forward and apparated them over to the Potter's home.

.

.

.

.

.

Awww, she's such a sad panda. :'( Write a review if you think that Hermione is a sad panda too! Next chapter up soon! I think i'm on a roll! *Knocks on wood*