A/n: Hey!

Yeah, I know it took soooo long. Life really changed since I first wrote this. O_O

Getting busier by the minute. :))

But anyways, this story is still alive. And always will be. :D

I will finish this. ;)

By: aningme

Chapter 37

Dilemma: The Sequel

"I'll see you soon."

"Draco…. Don't… Don't do this."

"I'm sorry."

Her skin felt like feathers slowly slipping through his fingers as he watched her vanish before his eyes. He knew he would be haunted by the look on her face with what he did to her, but he had no other choice. He had more things to see to, and at this point, there was no turning back now. Things are starting to fall into place, but then her words….

"You're more important to me. More than anything else."

He couldn't deny the fact that his heart almost stopped at the sound of her voice stating those words. Merlin, if she only knew how scared he really was…. If she only knew how weak he is… She could've managed to convince him to just forget everything else and just live a normal life again, like they used to.

It took all of his willpower to stand back and stand firmly on his plan. He was weak in the past… too weak to save anyone. But then, he wasn't the same boy as he was almost ten years ago.

And even if he himself was damned, he will never be again the weakling that he was when he was a kid.

It took him years and years to make himself a new person just as he is right now.

This was the time that he should show himself how steadfast this new Draco Malfoy he had established for himself.

Crookedly smirking, he stared at the empty space where she stood just seconds ago, still sensing the floral vanilla scent she left, lingering in the forest with him. It is time, he thought, and calmly walked through the forest back to the protective halls of Hogwarts, away from the cruel storm.

He was still dripping wet when he arrived in the infirmary. He felt a twinge of remorse to have to disturb Madame Pomfrey at a very untimely hour.

However, it was now or never, he knew, and decidedly entered the premises.

He was mildly surprised when he saw the figure of a woman, dressed in white robes and a candle for company, sitting on a chair with a book, as if she was calmly waiting for him.

The moment the door behind him shut closed, she smiled and turned from her reading to look at his face.

"I was hoping it wasn't anything serious." She muttered, her voice cracking from old age and misuse. "I'm sorry if I surprised you."

"Good eve, Madame." He paused, almost smiling at his present situation. He felt like he was a little boy again, running to a mother after scraping a knee. "I was actually hoping to find you here."

"It is a wise decision to come here, if you are indeed looking for my presence." She gave him a once over, and almost sighed in distress. "I used a spell to heighten my sense of smell to any human blood, just in case of emergencies. The moment a single drop escaped from your skin, I came back here, hoping he—or she—will let me take a look."

He walked towards her, watching closely as she just stared back at him. "I'm really sorry to disturb you in such a late hour, Madame Pomfrey. But as you can see, I had a little accident."

She smiled at him warmly, trying not to worry so much, and glanced down at his hands, torn and battered to the bone. "I must say I wasn't the least surprised to find out it was your blood I smelled. And from an accident, you say?" She pulled out a chair for him as she walked over to the cupboards to get a basin of warm water and some clean sheets. "From those cuts, Mr. Malfoy, I somehow doubt that." She eyed a red bottle and took it. "After years and years of tending injuries, I gained the sense of knowing whether an injury is from an accident or not." She opened and wafted a brown bottle and winced at its smell. "This should do it."

"My apologies." Draco muttered as he took a seat and watched her set up the bottles on the table in front of him. "I just wanted to discuss some matters with you in private."

"Why you would need to hurt yourself to do that, I do not know." She shook her head in disagreement, her face fixed in a mild frown. "You can always approach me in the morn or during the afternoons."

He could hear her disapproving tone and only cringed at it. She was scolding him, he knew. "It wouldn't be the privacy I needed, Mrs. Pomfrey. And yet again, I apologize."

"Oh stop apologizing now, dear boy. We cannot do anything about it now, can we?" She suddenly smiled then, giving him a slight sense of relief. "My, my. Look what you have done to yourself!" She wrapped his drenched body with the thick sheets, gave him a dry cloth to dry himself with, and started cleaning his wounds. "Are you feeling cold? Do you want some tea to keep you warm?"

"I'm really in good condition, do not worry." He smiled at her. "How can I ever thank you for such kindness?"

She smiled back at him and just studied him. "You were always a fine little fellow, I knew that." She nodded and continued with his hands. "It would be enough for me if you tell me your reasons to hurt yourself like this."

He watched quietly as she dabbed a piece of cloth with the red bottle she took. "It's not a kind of reward you'd expect." He began, his eyes drifting from Madame Pomfrey to the lighted candle. "I needed to talk to you about an antidote I am about to do."

"Now this will sting a lot." She warned right before she dabbed at his skin. She expected a cringe or a yelp from the pain, but was bewildered to receive neither reaction. "Oh, Mr. Malfoy, I do not know why you chose me to be of assistance to you in that area. If it concerns potions, I may not be the best person to consult with. Perhaps Professor Snape—"

"He won't be able to help me." He interjected, his eyes fixed to the dancing flame of fire beside them.

She resisted frowning at that and just merely continued cleaning his wounds. "Well, perhaps you could spare me from this suspense and elaborate…?" She took out her wand and muttered a spell, producing little drops of blue liquid floating towards his open wounds. "This would close your injuries and numb the pain."

He tried to smile at her as her spells relieved his throbbing body. "Thank you, Madame Pomfrey."

"Well now, this is my job." She nodded at him, and closed her hands over his. "I must remind you, though, that physical safety isn't the only thing that I worry about, under these circumstances."

"I am reminded of that, I assure you." He genuinely smiled at her this time, suddenly remembering the fondness he developed over the years for Madame Pomfrey. Even if he had a lot of sermons and scolding from her when he was little, it felt like she was a stand-in mother for him, when his wasn't there to take care of him when he needed her.

It was only unfortunate that his real mother came back without any notice, when he no longer wanted and needed her in his life. "I believe you've been notified about the hearing that took place yesterday."

"I was. I took care of Mrs. Malfoy after the hearing." She patted his hand, her worry now increasing at the topic of their discussion. "She's more stable than she ever was, if you're wondering."

"I have nothing left of me to worry about her." He said it so quietly that it sent shivers down her spine. "I only came here to speak of Hermione and her safety."

"Ah, forgive me, young lad. I spoke of the wrong Mrs. Malfoy." She chuckled a bit to lighten the mood, and got up to get some cups and heat up the tea in her pot. "Is she feeling better?"

"I keep watch over her, and so does Weasley." He assured her and sighed in anticipation. "I also am doing this antidote that I speak of for her safety."

Calmly pouring out tea for him, she studied him and nodded. "From what I understand from the reports, Mrs. Hermione Malfoy's case involves the Dark Arts…" She poured honey in his cup and pushed it forward to him. "I'm not sure I can help you with that, since I only know little of the subject."

"Don't worry, Madame Pomfrey. You need not to stress yourself about it. I have taken that side of the matter in my care. But…" His voice dropped to a whisper of surrender. "… I cannot do this alone, without your help."

She could feel the dread suddenly dawning on her as she slowly understood. "I do hope you're not thinking of what I have in mind."

He smiled warmly at her as he saw her understanding completely aligning with his. "But I believe we do think of the same thing."

"Mr. Malfoy…" She could feel her heart beating hard against her chest in horror. "What are you suggesting?"

"Forgive me to ask so much from you, Madame Pomfrey." He smiled at her again, attempting to wipe the terror on her face. "There's no one else I can trust this matter to. In fact…." He gently touched her hand. "… You are my only chance of surviving this."

She woke up just like any other day, a headache at bay and a wave of nausea creeping up her esophagus. It was morning sickness, she knew, but all of the emotions she felt raging in her chest fitted exactly that: disgust, repulsion, sickness, and repugnance at herself. Groaning, she sat up from the bed, ignoring the blinding sunlight escaping through the curtains, and discreetly, as if someone was watching her, glanced at the next bed beside hers.

She expected what she saw: Clean sheets neatly folded on top of unruffled pillows, a thick quilt spread out on the bed untouched…. But even if she tried putting aside any hope of seeing him, or even a simple evidence of his presence, she couldn't help it but be—yet again—disappointed with what she saw. Miffed at her own self for hoping, she stood up, mentally scolding herself to never let even the scarcest of hope to enter her head again, and stalked off to the bathroom to relieve her gagging throat.

It took her a moment to puke her guts out, and decided to get a good warm bubble bath to ease her nerves. But it took her a longer moment to realize she was actually sulking about the night before. She hated sulking, and right now, that wasn't what she needed.

She needed to do something about this current development. If he wasn't willing to let her help, damned be Merlin, she'll make him let her help. It was, in her opinion, her expertise to research on any subject of interest. She could, if he asked, give him an advantageous offer of her hand to investigate any information he would need.

She didn't come here just to be a nuisance to him. She didn't accompany him here, the place she knew he dreaded the most, just to sit around and watch him bury himself to his own death by overworking.

Damn it. The only way she could see this is as an insult. Did he actually think she couldn't do anything with this situation? Did he really think so fragile of her?

Severely pissed, she took a towel stepped out of the tub, putting on a robe and storming out of the bathroom.

She was vigorously towel drying her hair, her face covered in wet cotton and hair, when she was met by the scent of food. It was perfectly reasonable to find food served by the table. It was, in fact, time for breakfast. Lowry would always make sure of her needs were seen to and provided for.

But then, underneath that scent of scrumptious food, there was something that alerted all her nerves into a halt. It was the scent of lavender, a scent she dreaded now, that put her into a jolt of anxiety. Perplexed, her reflexes made her drop her towel and jump a full step back, her back ramming the door jamb of the bathroom. She didn't even notice the jolt of pain as she just stared at his face, the man she now both loathed and loved.

"Pardon me." Draco Malfoy was just studying her, slowly standing up from his chair as if she would jolt again if he made quick movements. "I didn't mean to scare you."

She could feel choking warmth spreading through her chest as she just stared at him. She couldn't believe he was standing there before her, after all that has happened. She felt the tug of war in her, her heart fluttering in joy as she studied his face, and her gut seemingly rumbling in tremendous anxiety. Calming herself, she merely stood there, slowly breathing in and out to slow down her running heart. Her back was still screaming in pain, but it was easily ignored by the buzzing in her ears.

"I brought some food. I just thought that you might be hungry. You would need your nourishments." He spoke again, his tone seemingly set to calm her down. He could see she was holding herself back, the way her hands froze into fists, and the way her eyes held his in an intimidating stance.

Slowly blowing out a breath, her mouth almost pressed into a thin line as she felt her bearings finally settled, along with the beginnings of her temper, hot and frenzied.

So, she decides to ignore me. He thought, feeling exasperated with his circumstances. He wished she could at least give him a slight sign of response. Anything at all, other than this cold treatment. "Did you sleep well last night?" he continued, hoping more interrogations would nudge her to talking to him. But when she just stood there in silence, he decided to meet her stubbornness with his own, and focused himself in gaining back her capacity to respond to him, by all means possible. He tried on his casual face and gestured at the bountiful food prepared on the table, gauging for the worst. He knew that look on her face. It was a face he recognized when she was up for a fight. "You better eat before the food gets cold."

She couldn't believe he could act so casually at a time like this. "Are you absolutely serious?"

He could feel his mouth twitching to a smile when she finally spoke, but was held in control by his reflex to wince at her tone, realizing that he was just entering the storm. But he was more relieved than worried, he must admit, now that she was speaking to him again. "I said I would see you soon." He watched as her face told him she was remembering the dreaded night before, her brows forming a slight crease on her forehead. If only he could walk to her and kiss that frown away. "I believe this morning couldn't be soon enough... I miss you."

She felt the way his voice drifted to a whisper at his last statement, but disregarded it. How could she possibly believe him after what he did to her last night? "You forced me to leave you." She hated the fact that her feet were plastered to the floor, feeling shaken at his sudden presence, catching her off guard. Decided now for a fight, she took a step away from the door, forcing herself to stand straight to give a steady facade. He won't get away that easily now. All she wanted were answers. And him, she thought, but tried to shove it away from her mind.

Her voice wanted to waiver, but she never let it. She was too pissed to be weak now. "And now you stand there, bringing food, speaking as if nothing has happened last night?"

He could see she was angry beneath the calmness of her voice… and was glad about it. He didn't want to cause any discomfort for her, but if he was to choose between her being hurt and being angry, he would have preferred her terrible temper. "You left me no other choice. Your conditions—"

"And what about your conditions?" She crudely cut him off, her face beginning to flush with her temper. "Should we ignore them at all times?"

If it were only another time, he would find it adorable of her, how her cheeks burned red, and how her eyes sparkled and glinted at him. But beneath the color of her face, he could see the dark shadows lurking under her eyes. Knowing he caused them, he blew out a breath and shook his head. "I didn't say anything of the kind."

"But you were suggesting it." Her voice rose a degree higher, her hands now tingling from her nails digging in her palms. Another thing she hated was the fact that he could make her feel uncomfortable with his stare. Challenged, she took a step towards him in revolt to her wobbling knees. "Where did you go last night?"

He could almost read her thoughts from her face. Amused at her reactions, he merely stared at her, aware how he made her uncomfortable, and studied the way her wet hair was carelessly swept from her shoulders. When he realized she was only wearing a robe, he felt his gut do one big twist and suddenly burn. "Why not get dressed and we'll talk about it over breakfast." He suggested, pulling out a chair for her nonchalantly, looking away from her. Damn it, why did she have to be so beautiful in the morning?

Oblivious to his reactions, she felt another surge of heat on her chest as her temper flared yet again with his reply. How could he be so calm and casual with her? "You think anything could tempt me to stay in a room with you after all the torment you have put me through?"

He was relieved to keep himself off his feet when he finally sat down on his chair. He merely stared at the food for a moment before he could speak without his voice breaking. "Fair enough." His voice dropped to a whisper, as he looked up at her, his face devoid of any emotions. He couldn't let her know the fact that his hands were becoming cold with her statement. He couldn't afford making another mistake when it came to her. "But I'll take my chances with you."

Arrogant bastard, her mind hissed as he merely stared at her. "You're unbelievable." Riled, she turned away from him and walked to her dresser, randomly taking a shirt, a pair of jeans, and stalked off back to the bathroom with a slam of the door.

Feeling suddenly heavy, he buried his face in his hands for a moment before standing from his chair and walking towards the bathroom door. Listening closely to her, he could hear her slamming the toilet seat down and thrashing the medicine cabinet shut, telling him she was gravely furious at him.

Torn, frustrated, he leaned his forehead on the door, wishing he could just hold her and just be with her without a care in the world.

He'd give anything to have a quiet day with her.

"Hermione…" He whispered to the door, wincing as he heard more banging. "Please be careful. You're in a very delicate condition right now. You shouldn't tire yourself so often."

When she finally opened the door, she startled back with a choke again, surprised by his proximity, and just merely shoved him aside.

"Hermione." When she just continued to walk away, he grabbed at her hand and pulled her towards him before she could walk even farther. "Hey..."

"I am not talking to you." She declared, pulling her hand away from his grip. When he held on to her, she jerked harder. "Let go!"

"Hermione—"

"Let go!" When she felt her hand tug free from his, she headed to the door.

When she managed to open it a few inches, he took her by surprise by suddenly stalking after her and shutting the door close before she could even slip through it. Even as she still held on the knob, his hand remained on the door jamb, preventing her to open it again.

Severely furious, she slowly turned back to him and met him eye to eye, her eyes almost stabbing daggers at him. "Let me go."

He heard her voice snap each word at him, but he couldn't care less. All he cared about was having her stay with him. "I know it's too much to ask." He muttered, his stare not wavering one bit. She can be mad at him as much as she wants, but he won't let her walk away from him. "But I'm asking you anyway. Stay."

She paused a moment before she could answer him, not knowing what his intentions were. He didn't know it wasn't easy for her as a simple yes or no. "I don't want to stay."

He'd beg if he had to. "But stay anyway."

"I'm going."

He frowned. "I'm not letting you."

She frowned back. "I'm going to make you."

"You can't make me."

"Oh, is that a challenge?"

"No. It is not." He stepped closer to her, pressing her body harder on the door. "I'm just telling you."

"You can't tell me what I can and cannot do."

"I just want you to stay."

"No."

"Just stay."

"No!" She pushed at him, but it didn't budge him one bit. She pushed harder, but he just stood there.

"Hermione..."

"Are you considering the option of caging me in this room?"

"No." Frustrated, he blew out a breath and slowly lowered his hand on the door. "No, of course not."

She watched him as his eyes changed from mere edginess to pained. How could he not see how he could tear her up into pieces just by his mere presence? "You confuse me in every possible way, Malfoy."

His brow furrowed in the minutest movements at the sound of his last name, but forced himself to ignore it and nodded at her. "I understand. The circumstances—"

"Believe me; I have no understanding of the circumstances either."

He heard it, the glitch in her voice. Miffed at himself, he ran a hand through his hair and just paced away from her, not knowing what he should say. He knew she shouldn't worry about those things, but she was just too stubborn to let it go.

Watching him, she couldn't help it but feel the abrupt clinch in her chest, as the realization dawned on her. "You're never going to talk to me about it, are you?" She felt more stabs on her chest when he only stayed silent. "All right... All right. I understand."

"No. Please." When she turned back to the door, he walked back to her and took her hand from the knob. When she refused to face him, he pulled at her back and jerked her into his torso, forcing her into an embrace, ignoring the fact that she was as rigid as a marble sculpture.

She looked so fragile and hurt that he didn't know what to say. "Hermione... Please don't stress about—"

She shook her head at him and crudely cut him off. She couldn't help it but shudder at the warmth of his chest touching her back. "How can I understand you when you never talk?"

"I assure you…" He slid his arm around her waist tighter when she started moving away, keeping her in place. "The things I do… I didn't mean them to cause you any confusion or trouble."

She shook her head at that, her hands clinging on his arms in an attempt to break away from his hold on her. "That's really unfair." When he still didn't budge, she gave up and just rested her head on the wooden door. When he tried to slowly turn her to face him, she nudged him off. "You're so unfair..." He heard her voice hitch, her tears now suddenly threatening to fall. "The things you do… How come you can have things to do and I can't?"

He couldn't help the pain that jabbed at him when she kept on pushing him away. "Isn't the answer to that question apparent? I'm the one who caused all of this."

"Shall we really revert back to that argument again?" She retorted, this time turning to him. "But then again, you're right at some point. I can't do anything at all because I don't know what there is to do about this matter."

He paused at that, keeping his gaze on her, before he could mutter a word. "Hermione, just let me do this for you. Just this."

She had to turn away from his gaze and focused on the lamp on her bedside table across the room. She couldn't afford to cry in front of him. "But why can't I help you? Why?"

"Because—" He hesitated, calming his voice down. He knew he was at a steep slope. "Because it is not necessary."

"Not necessary?" Her face suddenly drained of color. He finally admitted it. "Do you want me to leave?" Her voice hitched again as her throat started to constrict because of unshed tears. "Do you want me to go and just stay away from you?"

"No—come on. I'm asking you to stay..."

"And then you'd force me again to leave you out of convenience the next moment?" When he started leaning towards her, she turned her head away from him, trying to hold on to her sanity. "Don't." She begged, her eyes glistening with frustration. "Just tell me what you want me to do. Then I'll be off to accomplish it."

Insulted, his hand suddenly banged the door, jolting her. When he saw her terrified face, he squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly feeling the terrible headache that was starting to creep in his skull. "Do you think it's just like that?" Breathing heavily, he forced to calm himself, his fingers unconsciously digging into the wooden door. He could clearly see that she was starting to close in from him. "Do you think I could just tell you what to do and everything will be alright?"

"In all honesty, Draco, I do wish for that." A tear slipped through her cheek again as her arms trembled in fatigue. But she swept it away the moment it fell. "But… I'm really tired now."

"It's not as simple as you think it is, Hermione."

"Should this be my place as always, then? The ignorant one who cannot do anything?"

"That's not true."

"Really? Is it really not true?"

"Yes. Just…." He knew he was starting to beg. "… just be with me." Don't shut down on me.

She just stayed still for a moment, her breathing shallow from her held back sobs. "I'm ignorant of my lost memories… and now I'm also ignorant of the present."

His brow suddenly creased in a pained face, his hand crawling to the back of her head, pulling her closer to him. "Don't say that. Just give me a chance to—"

"Stop." She insisted, her hands pushing at his chest. He had no idea how she would crumble if he started to hold her. "Please."

He only stood still at her plea, his hands clenched in fists on the door.

"You're so stubborn to let other people help." She continued, her face hidden by his shadow. "You were stubborn then… and still equally stubborn now."

"You don't understand…" He whispered to her, their faces only inches apart. He wished for her to just let him hold her, even for a little while, to let her know how badly he needed her. How badly he missed her. "Your safety is my priority. And there are just things that I have to do alone."

"Yes." She answered, her brows creasing into a pained line. She was hurting so much that his proximity even made it worse. "Yes I know. You have told me that numerous of times." His eyes seemed to bear holes on hers, leaning to her and resting his forehead against hers. He took a lock of her hair and tucked it behind her ear, his gesture so gentle as if she was a fragile doll. It only tore her heart. "I… I have to be honest, though, that I do not see the point of such a claim. And yes I know." She butted in, her voice now wavering out of her spite, before he could even speak. "I know you can't tell me your reasons. But I am deeply sorry that I can no longer stand here and do nothing while you do everything and I see you hurt your…" Her hands searched for his, and stared at him in confusion as she felt his hands completely healed and woundless. "…self. Your hands—"

"Yes, about that." He whispered, clasping her hands with his, not letting her go. "I'm sorry to worry you last night, but don't fret anymore, I'm completely fine. I passed by the infirmary last night, and was very graciously taken care of by Madame Pomfrey."

"I see." She couldn't help it but have a tear slide down her cheek. She wiped at it again almost immediately as it fell, but had more sliding down her face in agony.

"Hey." He held her face, kissing her forehead as her tears continued to stream down. "I'm really fine. See?"

"I'm sorry." She sniffed, forcing herself to stop crying, but failed. "I'm sorry. Just…" She huffed out a breath and turned away from his hands that were trying to touch her face. "Just go on and have your breakfast. Your bed is very much waiting for you to use it."

When she turned around for the door knob, he landed a hand on the door again and held her hand with the other. "Hermione…. Please…. Give me a chance to be with you."

"I just don't see why other people can take care of you and I can't." She interjected, her voice now raspy from suppressed tears.

"That's not true." He argued dejectedly, his voice becoming painstakingly unstable. "Hermione, you know that's not—"

"I'm sorry." She crudely cut him off, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated and exhausted. I just need time to calm down."

"I know." He sighed, infinitely infuriated with himself that he had no idea how to make her feel better. "Please Hermione." He whispered, leaning towards her and resting his lips on the top of her head. "Just stay."

"I can't." She mumbled, even as she felt his breath streaming down her neck.

"Please… Let me be with you."

She could feel his body pulling on hers, as if his warmth was trying to reach her. "Draco, just let me go."

He merely stood still this time, holding her hand on the knob even tighter as she said it.

"Please." She continued, not daring to turn to him. She knew that if she could see his face she wouldn't be able to leave. "Let go."

It seemed like minutes have passed them by, both of them not moving a muscle. But then, he broke the silence with a blow of his breath, sort of short of a sob, and slowly released her hand. When he stepped back from the door, she opened it and left him in a run.

As the door slowly closed back, he merely stood still, staring at the ground feeling numb, listening to her running footsteps, then a door opening, and Ron's voice calling after her name.

When the door came swinging open again, Draco just stood still.

"What the fuck happened?" Ron bellowed, appalled by everything. He couldn't remember ever seeing Hermione's face that way before. It was petrifying. "What the fuck did you do?"

When Draco didn't move a muscle, Ron shook his head in disbelief and took his collar, shaking him. "What did you say to her, asshole?" It seemed like Draco couldn't hear anything that he was saying, exasperating him even more. "She was fucking waiting for you all night, did you know that? She was waiting the whole time."

"She wanted to leave." He finally responded in a soft whisper, as if all life flew out from him with her. "She wanted me to let her go."

"Bullshit!" Ron spat, pushing Draco away towards the table, hitting his hip with it. "Don't you dare give up on her."

"I'm not." Draco answered, as if he didn't feel the jolt of pain that sprang from his hip, his hands unconsciously straightening his collar. "She didn't want me around her. I'm giving her what she wants."

"She wants you, you daft sod." Ron spat, bewildered with the fact that Draco seemed to not understand it at all. "She wants you to go to her."

"But she wanted to leave." Draco repeated, his voice weakening even more as the fact dawned on him. Feeling his knees weaken, he nudged himself to the table and just sat. "She wanted to leave."

Sighing in contempt, Ron glared at him and watched him stare into space. "You don't have a clue at all, do you?" When he didn't answer, Ron just shook his head and ran his hands through his hair. "Well, blimey, I'm the one to tell you what's happening."

"I…" He took all his willpower to shift his gaze to Ron's. "I fucking messed up."

Ron just stare at him, surprised with his honesty. "Well... You did, mate. You shouldn't have left her alone, man."

"But she needs to be here. She doesn't need to see me so…." … lost…. He trailed off into his own thoughts, staring at his hands, staring at the scars that were supposed to be knew she was mad at him for what happened last night, but his hands….

"It's not that. You don't see the point, Malfoy."

"But the point is to protect her." He insisted, his mind crawling as if he couldn't fathom something. He realized that something hurt her when she realized hands were okay…. "I didn't…. I didn't know what to say. She didn't let me explain..."

"That's not the point. It's not about—you listen to me, Malfoy." Ron stressed, trying to catch his attention from drifting away to other ideas. He could see the way his face played with his thoughts. He had to stop him before he could go too far. "You left her out like she was just an extra baggage to you, did you know that?" Ron pointed out, putting it in the bluntest way that he could. It was the only way he can think of to make him understand. "You're the one who left, Malfoy. You left her out of everything. She was waiting all this time for you to come back."

Draco turned to him this time, his eyes glistening in desperation. "I don't understa—"

"She was waiting for you to come back." He repeated, suddenly feeling exhausted. He dropped to a chair and shook his head. "You never did, asshole. Physically, yes, sometimes, you come back. But you never stopped leaving her out. She wants in, she always does. You of all people should know that. And yet you just kept her waiting. "

Draco merely stared at Ron for a while, his eyes seemingly becoming blurred. She wasn't crying because she was mad at him for the night before. She was crying because he never let her take care of him…. She never knew I needed her.

Ron saw the moment he finally understood, the way his face suddenly became very still, his eyes suddenly focusing on his hands. Slowly, he straightened his back and stood up, and in one swift movement, threw a plate to a wall.

Watching him as he breathed in and out, studying the shattered plate on the ground, Ron just sighed. How can love be so misunderstood in so many ways? "You can't…" He took a deep breath, feeling awkward that he was the one to console him. Well, this wouldn't be the first time. "You can't just let her go, Malfoy. You love her."

His heart beating like wild drums, Draco didn't answer and merely stood very still, trying to calm himself down before his rage overtook him and ruin everything.

Being cautious, Ron slowly stood up. "She might be in the forest, astronomy tower, or the library." He could see Draco was struggling to keep his composure, but he couldn't blame him. Ron's earlier temper seemed to reduce to this heavy sympathy in his gut now.

Managing to be calm by a thread and enough to move, Draco walked slowly to the coat hanger and took his coat, noticing hers was still hanging. He studied it first before he took it too, thinking that she might be feeling cold. "She'll be in the library. She usually finds comfort in books."

"Good. Then go on and…." Ron started and realized Draco was already out of the door before he could even finish his sentence. "… get her. Right." Shaking his head in incredulity and exhaustion, he left the room too and closed the door, walking back to his own room and reminding himself why he never wanted to be involved in marriage in the first place.