Another chapter! Trying to get out as much content as I can over the long weekend! Things for the pair have been going pretty well…too well, I think. A bit of a shorter chapter, but oh so juicy! Some of you predicted this in the reviews chapters upon chapters ago…read on to see if your worst fears (or greatest hopes, depending) come true ;) It might be a while before your cliffhanger ending gets resolved, but I promise I won't leave you hanging forever! Thanks as always for your reviews and support!

Chapter 37

thump, thump, thump, Thump, THUMP…

Hermione was awakened by a rhythmic sound in her left ear, growing louder as she grew more conscious. A spicy but calming scent met her nose, and she was pleasantly warm beneath the covers despite not hearing the fire crackling in the hearth.

As she drowsily opened her eyes, she realized that the warmth she felt was provided by more than just the blankets covering her. She was pressed up against someone's chest, and his arm had slid down to encircle her waist at the hip. Judging by the way her heart fluttered when she realized this, she knew that this person had to be Lucius. He was the only one who could make her body respond so stupidly…

Looking past his chiseled torso to the end table, she noticed that the candle had burned all the way down to a stub. Did he mean for this to happen…?

It seemed unlikely, since Hermione realized he was still in his clothes from the previous night. She believed he had likely come over to try to offer some comfort to her, under the guise of cold indifference, of course. As always. Perhaps he was just exhausted from his limited sleep every night and drifted off accidentally. Or perhaps…

No, Hermione thought, pulling her mind back to the present. I can't let myself think that way. Every time I start to grow too attached, he pushes me away again.

Pushing herself away from Lucius slightly, she rolled over to look at his face. He did not sleep with his eyes open, as she had always suspected. His features were still sharp and pointed, but all hint of the trademarked Malfoy smirk was absent. He looked downright serene, more serene than she had ever seen him before. He took slow, deep breaths through his nose, managing to look elegant even in unconsciousness. So unlike Hermione, and she knew it. As she surveyed his sleeping form and noticed a small wet patch on his chest, she had the horrifying realization that she had managed to drool on his shirt in her sleep. Of course…

Carefully removing his hand from her hip as delicately as she could to avoid disturbing him, Hermione quietly moved to the side of the bed and sat up. For a moment, she debated taking a bath, reenacting her first morning in that bed but with roles reversed – when she awoke to Lucius in nothing but a towel – but then she thought better of it. Since Lucius had been so adamant about not sharing a bed with her (at least innocently sharing a bed with her, strangely enough) she wasn't sure how he would feel upon waking, and she didn't want this pleasantly warm feeling to be crushed by his harsh reality.

Wordlessly, Hermione rose from the bed and slipped out the door, tiptoeing downstairs and down the long hallway to her bedroom, a room that now felt cold and bleak as she entered. She still felt exhausted despite her relatively peaceful sleep the night before, and a headache had begun to set in. She hadn't felt like herself since she had first heard of Ron and Lavender's engagement, so she wrote it off as stress and emotional fatigue.

Looking at herself in the mirror atop the elegant armoire, she noticed her eyes were slightly swollen and puffy, her hair was an absolute rats' nest, and she still had a small hint of dried saliva on the corner of her mouth.

Rolling her eyes at her disastrous appearance and shaking away her headache as best as she could, she found herself inwardly celebrating that Lucius was still asleep when she awoke.

Fifteen minutes later, the sun was fully over the horizon and Hermione had made herself presentable, changing into a simple pale-yellow dress and a matching headband to keep her hair out of her face. She even added some simple makeup to try to brighten up her features a bit and make sure Lucius was happy to see her, whenever he finally got up.

Hermione made her way to the dining room and was utterly taken aback to find Lucius fully clothed, sitting in his usual chair and sipping his black coffee and reading the morning paper like nothing had happened the night before.

"Good morning, my dear."

My dear, Hermione repeated mentally. It wasn't "Hermione," but at least it wasn't "Miss Granger…"

She was so startled by his presence that it took an extra second to compose her response. "G-good morning, sir."

She numbly walked to her usual spot and plopped herself down unceremoniously. Lucius went back to reading and seemed to have no intention of addressing their first night of sleeping in the same bed, so Hermione decided to do her best to abandon the issue entirely. It was so odd; he was more guarded and protected when it came to even talking about lying beside her than when it came to something as intimate as-

"What's wrong?"

Hermione looked up at Lucius, who had lowered the paper to the table in front of him. "You're not eating, and you look…grey."

Hermione snorted. "Thanks for the compliment." Lucius's cold eyes were still fixed on her, and she hastily responded, "No…nothing is wrong, Lucius." She hoped that he understood that she was answering both the question he asked and the one he dared not to. Yes, it was fine that you slept next to me. In fact, I quite enjoyed it… But she knew he would never ask it aloud, and he seemed satisfied with her response and resumed his reading.

She still wasn't particularly hungry, but she picked at a few slices of fruit and a croissant to appease Lucius, who was still subtly eyeing her over the top of the Prophet with concern.

"Well how are you feeling…about everything?" Lucius ventured, clearly out of his element but too curious to resist asking.

Hermione sighed, feeling her stomach flip with anxiety and anger again, but she had asked herself that question this morning and had already formulated a response.

"Grateful."

"Grateful?" Lucius questioned, setting down the paper fully this time and eyeing her quizzically.

"Yes, grateful," Hermione responded. "I'm grateful that those who I once considered close friends have remained close to me, in spite of the loss I've endured. I'm grateful that I dodged the bullet of marrying an unfaithful fiancé. And…" Hermione forced herself to look at him when she said it, even though he still intimidated her, "I'm grateful for all that you've given me, particularly your support, even when circumstances are not the easiest. For either of us. So I guess what I really want to say is…" Hermione lost her resolve as she looked at Lucius's sharp and unreadable face. "…Thank you. Yes, thank you."

Lucius, who had been leaning forward in his chair unconsciously, took a deep breath and announced, "You've helped me as well, in more ways than you know. I should be thanking you as well, and would if I wasn't too proud."

Hermione rolled her eyes and rose from the table. "I've come to expect nothing less from you, Luc-"

Suddenly, the world before Hermione started to spin and turn grey as her face began to tingle and she grew lightheaded. She kept her feet beneath her but felt herself begin to stumble until a presence was at her side in a moment and firm hands gripped her by the arm and shoulder.

"Hermione!"

There it is, Hermione thought even through the haze in her mind. Why is it that he only seems to call me "Hermione" when he fears losing me…?

Hermione went to brush his hands away, but they held firm.

"Hermione-"

"I'm fine. Bit of a headrush is all."

Lucius still eyed her warily. "You really should get back to bed. You're clearly not well…"

He started to bend down, but Hermione successfully shoved him away this time. "Lucius, I told you I wasn't going to let you carry me anywhere else in this damned house and I meant it," Hermione muttered.

Lucius begrudgingly stepped back, but even as Hermione's wits came back to her and she started to walk up the stairs, Lucius remained glued to her side, his hand pressing on the small of her back for support.

Despite his insistence, Hermione refused to get back into bed, claiming that she wasn't some old woman on her deathbed. Instead, when they reached the master bedroom, Hermione eased herself down into the long leather sofa across from the fireplace and took a steadying breath.

Lucius lit a fire in the hearth before declaring, "Let me make you something for your strength…" and began heading toward the door.

"No, wait!" Hermione gestured to her bag sitting along the wall. "Search my bag for a phial of Vitamix potion," Hermione prompted.

Lucius weighed the options before picking up her bag but seeming hesitant to open it, looking as sheepish as a wolf in sheep's clothing possibly could, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

She started to tease, "What, are you worried you're going to come across a-"

Hermione suddenly stopped herself as everything in her world came to a screeching halt. She as about to joke about Lucius being embarrassed about finding a feminine product in her bag, but then she realized that she couldn't remember the last time she had needed one…

"Lucius…" she began quietly, and Lucius lowered the bag and took a step closer to her as he noticed the significant change in demeanor. "What's today's date?"

"Today? March 11th."

MARCH!? Hermione thought with a sinking feeling, and when her frantic and fearful eyes met Lucius's, his mask of calm indifference slipped away as he seemed to share in her revelation.

Could it be? I'm…?