CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

" I could make you happy, make your dreams come true.
Nothing that I wouldn't do.
Go to the ends of the Earth for you,
To make you feel my love"
'Make you feel my love', Adele

Draco's stomach was in knots when he arrived in the great hall. He kept wringing his hands and absolutely refused to glance in the direction of the Gryffindor table though he could tell someone there was watching him closely.

How could he have been so stupid?! If it had just been some Gryffindor, any Gryffindor, it wouldn't have been so bad, but Harry-bleeding-Potter! Why, why had his brain chosen then of all times to go crazy?

All summer, through all the torment, all the fears, all the times he didn't think he'd ever make it our alive, during the time after that almost happened, his one solace and saving grace to get him through it all had been the hope of seeing Hermione again, of finally getting a chance to do things right with her. He'd be proving to her that everything he said, everything she'd worked so hard to convince him wasn't true, that he wasn't dangerous.

He had wanted so desperately not to screw things up this time, to finally treasure her like he'd always wanted to for the better part of six years. Now, he had mess it up in one ruddy moment.

Who was he kidding? How could he think that he, of all people, could ever be different, could ever be happy?

"Draco," someone touched his shoulder and he flinched, his head whipping round with wide eyes. It was only Theo.

"There you are mate, spent half an hour walking the train up and down for you before I gave up… Hey," he paused. "You don't look so good, you ok?" He asked, his blank stare creasing slightly in a Theo-frown as he said down beside Draco. The third year Slytherin who was seated there instantly shuffled along; everyone knew the space next to Draco was and would always be Theo's.

Draco had heard his question, but his mind was still in panic mode so he didn't fully register it.

Maybe no one would find Potter till he returned to the station? Maybe no one would ever have to know? Maybe she would never need to find out. He wouldn't have to lose her or have her hate him.

Even in his own mind, the idea sounded ludicrous, especially as just as he was contemplating this hope in his mind, Hagrid appeared at the door with a ruffled look Potter at his side and Draco immediately slumped.

Potter would tell her, of that he had no doubt, and Hermione would never forgive him. She'd finally see he was right all along last year, that he was too dangerous, too unstable for her. He couldn't be trusted or forgiven and she was better off without him.

The reality was harsh on his own heart, just when he'd finally accepted the possibility of their being together. To know his dream was about to be ripped away just as it was beginning was cruel.

"Bloody hell, what happened to Potter? He looked like he met the harsh end of a troll's club and Granger looks right pissed. Wouldn't want to be the bloke who did that," said Theo mindlessly as he nibbled on a potato.

Draco hiccupped and Theo looked at him, his frown more evident now. He wasn't known as one of the most observant people to be placed in Slytherin ever for nothing. "What is it?" He asked, the tone in his voice denoted that this wasn't just a question it was a demand for an answer.

"Mate…" Draco began glancing up at the Gryffindor table where Hermione was healing Potter's nose with a furious expression. "I did something really, really stupid."

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'He did what?!' Hermione thought furiously as Harry finished telling her about how Draco Malfoy, her boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, had smashed her best friend's nose in.

If Draco had been nothing to her, just a petty childhood nemesis, then this wouldn't have seemed unusual or surprising… Except Draco wasn't nothing, and he knew how much Harry meant to her, never mind their petty rivalry. Why would he do that to her?

Strangely enough, Harry seemed unconcerned with his broken nose and instead was focused on the little information he had learned from listening in at the Slytherin compartment. Apparently, Zabini and Goyle had been discussing 'future plans' while Malfoy listened quietly with a snide little smirk, as if he knew more than he was letting on.

Hermione didn't doubt that Zabini and Goyle were boasting, but she highly doubted Draco was in on it. And even if he was, she suspected his so called 'smirk' was either a ploy to upset Harry or was something he'd done without any real realisation of doing it.

"But he was obviously showing off for Parkinson, wasn't he?" interjected Ron quickly, before Hermione could say anything.

"Well," she said uncertainly. An uncomfortable curl of jealousy blossomed despite herself. "I don't know… It would be like Malfoy to make himself seem more important than he is… But that's a big lie to tell…" especially to Pansy-piddling-Parkinson.

"Exactly," said Harry, but he could not press the point, because so many people were trying to listen in on his conversation; not to mention the constant staring at him and whispering behind their hands.

"It's rude to point," Ron snapped at a particularly minuscule first-year boy as they joined the queue to climb out of the portrait hole. The boy, who had been muttering something about Harry behind his hand to his friend, promptly turned scarlet and toppled out of the hole in alarm. Ron sniggered. "I love being a sixth year. And we're going to be getting free time this year. Whole periods where we can just sit up here and relax."

"We're going to need that time for studying, Ron!" said Hermione, as they set off down the corridor.

"Yeah, but not today," said Ron. "Today's going to be a real doss, I reckon."

"Hold it!" said Hermione, throwing out an arm and halting a passing fourth year, who was attempting to push past her with a lime-green disk clutched tightly in his hand. "Fanged Frisbees are banned, hand it over."

As she was confiscating the Frisbee, her mind was going a hundred a minute.

What was Draco playing at? She was worried for him, about him. This wasn't like him at all. But more than worried, she was furious.

He knew how much Harry meant to her. Sure, he'd never talked about him never hurting Harry, but it was always an unspoken boundary between them, something 'thou shalt not do'.

And he'd broken it not even five minutes into arriving at Hogwarts!

Snape's Defence against the Dark arts was… surprisingly riveting, Hermione decided. He's spoken about many of the things both Draco and Harry had thought about and said about the dark arts; how instead of it being just something you memorised from the text books, they were something you needed to live, to experience, to take into you and react to with the familiarity of skin. He spoke about how Defence wasn't just a memorisation of steps, but a true understanding of life, and how to save from it danger without putting it in danger.

In Defence, Hermione sat at the back of the classroom, so she couldn't see him though he himself seemed to be putting in effort to keep their eyes from meeting. If anything, that annoyed her the most. But Potions, in Potions was when they would meet. She and her friends always sat at the desk that was almost adjacent with his and Theodore's.

Pansy stuck close by them, as usual; again she was trying to get his attention and failing. Watching her hand hanging off his arm as she spoke in a simpering tone of voice made her cringe. But as he shrugged her off with barely a second glance, it bought a small smug smile to her face, though she did well to hide it.

The new Potions Professor oozed a feeling that reminded Hermione of her Muggle aunt who liked to collect the ugliest 1970's porcelain figurines, the creepy ones that followed you around the room with their eyes. But he seemed to have an enthusiasm for Potions that Professor Snape had lacked and Hermione found that she liked that.

His small test of having three potions and asking the class to describe their contents distracted Hermione for a time as she fought to identify the lot. Professor Slughorn seemed very impressed at her ability for recognising the Polyjuice potion, which was strange, because Hermione wasn't used to getting any recognition for her ability in a Potions class.

As Slughorn spoke, she took a quick glance in Draco's direction and realised he'd been staring at her. But he looked away before she could try to understand what that look in his eyes was.

Now, this one here . . . Yes, my dear?" continued Slughorn, now looking slightly bemused as Hermione's hand punched the air again.

"It's Amortentia!" she said, putting a little more force in her voice than she had probably intended. But she couldn't help it. Draco's ignoring act was getting annoying! What on earth had she done to warrant such behaviour? He was the one that had wronged her and her friend, not the other way around.

Though he didn't look up, Slughorn seemed happy nonetheless as he looked mightily impressed. "It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask, but I assume you know what it does?"

"It's the most powerful love potion in the world," said Hermione.

"Quite right! You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"

"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," said Hermione, deciding not to pay Draco any more mind, at least not for the moment as she was beginning to get into the lesson. "And it's supposed to smell different to each according to what attracts us, and I can smell," she took a step forward and inhaled slightly, "freshly mown grass and new parchment and— " the wet-grass-straight-from-the-Quidditch-pitch scent of Draco's hair, when he would rest his head in the crook of her neck in the rare moments where he'd let himself fall asleep.

She turned slightly pink and did not complete the sentence as she accidentally looked up in his direction again and this time, caught his eye. They locked eyes for about a second, but she had a feeling he was the only person in the room who had at least an inkling of what she'd been about to say by the way he looked down with the slightest of flushes and fiddled with a fine chain around his neck…A chain, Hermione knew, hung the tiny scorpion amber pendant she'd given to him.

But then he turned away again, breaking the meaningful connection and continued ignoring her. Hermione felt her ire return with a vengeance.

'May I ask your name, my dear?" said Slughorn, disregarding Hermione's embarrassment and breaking her out of her reverie.

Hermione Granger, sir."

"Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"

"No. I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggleborn, you see."

Hermione saw Draco lean close to Theodore and whispered something; but Slughorn showed no dismay; on the contrary, he beamed and looked from Hermione to Harry, who was sitting next to her.

"Oho! 'One of my best friends is Muggle-born, and she's the best in our year!' I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry, embarrassed to be the centre of attention.

"Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger," said Slughorn genially.

Draco looked rather like someone had punched him in the face.

Hermione sent him an angry look and he looked down at his feet. Then she turned to Harry with a radiant expression and whispered, "did you really tell him I'm the best in the year? Oh, Harry what a good friend you are." She said the last part rather loudly and knew he'd heard from the way he flinched.

Good.

"Well, what's so impressive about that?" whispered Ron, who for some reason looked annoyed. "You are the best in the year - I'd've told him so if he'd asked me!"

Hermione smiled but made a "shhing" gesture, so that they could hear what Slughorn was saying. Ron looked slightly disgruntled.

"Amortentia doesn't really create love, of course," Slughorn continued. "It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room — oh yes," he said.

Draco, who was looking elsewhere and Theodore, who was looking completely uninterested and was picking at the lint on his sleeves, both looked up when they heard the last part.

"It can't be that dangerous, it's just a love potion," someone in the room piped up ignorantly.

Slughorn shook his head. "When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love."

Draco sighed at that. "Don't I know it," and then blinked in confusion at what he'd done.

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They were told to make the Draught of the Living Dead. The prize for the best potion was a tiny bottle of Felix Felicis, the potion of liquid luck.

Personally, Theo couldn't care less about winning, but it seemed many of their classmates did. Though how Goyle could think he'd actually have a chance at brewing something as complicated as the Draught of the Living Dead when he found difficulty completing even a simple cure for boils, confounded Theo.

Beside him, Draco kept getting distracted from cutting up ingredients for their potion. Instead he would pause, stare into space, and then his eyes would occasionally roam over to where Granger was furiously cutting up roots of some kind.

Meanwhile, Potter was doing remarkable well. Theo frowned, he couldn't understand why, but something didn't seem right about this.

His thoughts were distracted when Draco hissed and Theo glanced back to see that, in one of his daydreams, Draco had grazed his thumb with the knife.

"Damn," Theo cursed. "Don't get any blood on the ingredients or else we'll have to start again."

"It really heartens me to know that if I'm ever bleeding to death, you'll be so helpful," Draco rolled his eyes as he wiped the blood on his sweater. "Sorry," he sighed. "I guess I was…distracted."

"You're being such a wimp," Theo rolled his eyes. "You know you can't avoid her forever. This tail-between-your-legs act isn't like you and it looks like it's making her madder anyway."

"I know," Draco admitted. "I just…I screwed up."

"Everyone screws up, you can't honestly tell me you'd hate her forever if she slapped me or Jo, would you?"

"Course not, though to be honest I can't imagine her slapping anyone for no reason. She's too rational. And if she ever did slap anyone, they probably deserved it."

"Well there you go. Anyway, you should take more note of our potion. You'd think you of all people would be in need of some lucky potion, it'd be useful right?" and he trailed off.

Because something changed in Draco's eyes, a kind of gold sheen that wasn't usually there in his silver orbs. He became very still as he stared down at the potion ingredients on the table, only blinking dramatically every now and again as if he were testing out the functions of his eyes.

Then he smiled. "You're right. Very useful…" and then he began to move.

These weren't the clumsy I'm-not-that-bothered-about-potions-Draco movements. These were skilled, like he'd made this potion a dozen times. He pretty much took over their table, chopping, dicing and mixing. Then he started crushing their beans instead of slicing them, Theo reached to stop him but Draco slammed the knife in the table.

"Don't touch."

Theo blinked. "But that's not what it says in the book?"

"F-f-f," he rubbed his eyes, an early indicator of an incoming migraine. "F-f-fuck the book. I know what I'm doing, he-he-he showed m-m-me. Dammit! I don't have much time left. Just…leave me alone for a bit, I g-g-got this," and he resumed in his potion making.

Theo watched with wide eyes, heart pounding, and tongue frozen in his mouth. This was defiantly not the Draco he knew. But this display of work was much more elaborate than the mere slip ups in the past.

"Who are you?" he said softly, but with a dangerous tone to his voice.

The golden eyed Draco paused in his actions to look up at him…and smirked.

Then the golden glint was gone and Draco staggered. Theo reached out to catch him before he toppled into their completed potion.

Some of the Slytherins close by paused to glance in their direction. Theo mimed drinking with his fingers and thumb and they smirked, turning away.

Draco would be mad about it later, but right now it was better they think him drunk than insane.

"W-what happened?" he slurred, his voice groggy. "Where am I?" he looked up, blinking clear silver grey eyes without a hint of gold in them. "Theo?"

"Well would you look at that," Slughorn boomed happily as he peered into their cauldrons. "Two perfectly made potions! It seems Mr Potter isn't the only one with a gift in Potion making. Well done, Mr Malfoy, Mr Nott…"

"No way," Theo deadpanned. "This was all Draco this time," truer words were never said.

"Mr Malfoy then," Slughorn continued, completely ignorant of the dark tone in which Theo spoke. "Well then Mr Malfoy…Mr Malfoy, are you quite alright?" he asked, finally noticing the white paleness of his face.

"I'm fine," Draco said, holding up a hand. "Just…potions fumes got to me for a minute, I was just…dizzy."

"Ah, yes," Slughorn nodded. "The Draught of the Living Dead can do that to a person. Perhaps you should skip your next class and take a small kip in the hospital wing, eh?"

"Yeah, maybe," Draco sighed, not about to look a gift horse and a free skiving session in the mouth.

"But not before collecting your prize. It seems both you and Mr Potter have recreated the potion to perfection. However, I only have one bottle of Liquid Luck. So it seems I'll have to share it equally between the two of you, if that's quite alright with you both?"

"Bloody ferret probably cheated," Weasley muttered from across the room, only to be elbowed by Granger in the stomach.

"Yeah, that's fine," Potter nodded.

Draco grunted in response and rubbed his head.

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Harry and Ron were enamoured with a mottled text book inscribed with notes by a 'Half-Blood Prince', a prince Hermione didn't trust. From the notes, it seemed this Prince character was too inclined towards breaking the rules, and while that normally wasn't so bad to encourage such dislike in Hermione, it was his disregard for safety precautions that bothered her. He didn't seem to care who he hurt in the process of his experiments. Some of his changes to Potions were dangerous and untested and Hermione didn't even want to begin on those spells he'd 'created'.

Perhaps he knew what he was doing, perhaps he didn't. All Hermione knew was that Harry certainly didn't know what he was doing and so following a questionable book's advice seemed like not only bad judgment but a bad idea in every way. After all, just remember what happened the last time someone listened to the words of a questionable book. It resulted in the whole school being terrorised by a demonic snake.

Whenever Hermione voiced this particular worry to the boys, they just ignored her and claimed she was being too bossy. It exasperated her to no end.

Speaking of potions, Hermione glanced up at the Slytherin table, which were gathered for dinner, and noted Draco's empty space beside Theodore.

Ever since that potion lesson, Hermione hadn't seen Draco at all that day, or the following day for that matter. He went to rest in Madam Pomfrey's office, and then avoided class altogether, feigning a fever.

Hermione understood why Harry was suddenly displaying extraordinary talents in potion making, but she didn't know why Draco was too, when before he'd only had medium to moderate talent in the lesson.

"Is it to do with the 'other' Draco?" she muttered to herself, thinking about the other consciousness that Draco often dreamed about. He had said before that the 'presence' was so strong it often affected his daily life in the way he saw, did, and remembered things. Could it be getting stronger?

"Other what?" Ron inquired, his mouth full of roast chicken.

"Honestly, Ronald, will you ever learn to chew with your mouth closed?" she sighed, rolling her eyes. "And Harry, I really don't think you should be reading that book."

"But this stuff's great Hermione. At this rate, I'll be an Auror in no time."

"You? An Auror?" Hermione giggled and Harry looked up angrily.

"What's so funny?"

"It's just, to be an Auror, you have to follow all these rules and regulations, even if you think someone's up to something. You wouldn't be able to do a thing unless you had actual proof. These days, most of the time you'd end up as a glorified ministry lapdog like the ones who came with Fudge last year. You are the last person I'd imagine in that kind of position."

"But Moody and Tonks catch all sorts of bad wizards," Harry tried to argue. "He doesn't follow the rules, Constant Vigilance and all that."

"People like Moody and Tonks are as rare in a police force as a truly honest lawyer is in a court of law. Besides, they're also both members of the you know what," she secretly made a bird sign to indicate the Order of the Phoenix, "and are made of tougher, more honourable stuff. But it isn't as easy to be deviant from political corruption as you might think Harry, not truly. No, it's not the Auror corps you should go for."

"So what should Harry go for then, if you think you know everything?" Ron piped, having been unusually quiet throughout this conversation.

Hermione put down the spoon that she'd been using to eat her jelly desert and looked up at them. "Personally, I don't think it's the catching bad guys aspect of the job you like about being an Auror. It's that you feel responsible for others. You like to help people, Harry, that's what you're good at. I think you should go into a job when you can really help people, make them feel good about themselves, protect them."

"You think I should be a medic wizard?" Harry asked, cocking his head in confusion.

Hermione burst into a peal of laughter. "Goodness no, you wouldn't have the attention span for it, nor the bedside manner. No, the medical world is certainly not ready for Harry James Potter," she giggled. "No. But you know, I think you'd make an awfully good teacher."

This time, it was Ron who burst out laughing. "Harry, a teacher? He trips over his own tongue when Binns makes him read aloud in class."

"That's when he's put on the spot unexpectedly. But Harry becomes frightfully…commanding, when he actually knows what he's talking about. And he's ever so kind to the younger years, much more patient than either you or me. Just look at how he was in the Defence club and I know you enjoyed doing it, Harry."

"That's nothing special," Harry said quickly. "It's just being nice."

"You'd be surprised, Harry, how difficult being 'nice' actually is. After all, even the best Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, for all their house unity speeches, can be right bullies when they put their mind to it, especially to the houses they don't like. But I think you understand more than anyone how it feels to be pushed around, so you're more understanding than most when you allow yourself to be."

Perhaps it was something she said, Hermione wasn't sure, but Harry's face just fell and took on an expression that told her exactly what she'd made him think about. Sirius.

"Harry, I'm sorr—"

"No, it's nothing," he said. "Don't take it the wrong way, but I don't think I'm cut out for being a teacher. I think I'll stick to my Auror decision." And then he got up and left the table.

"Now you've done it," Ron said, ripping into another chicken lg.

"I didn't mean to," Hermione argued. "We were talking about something completely different."

"Yeah, but Harry's a bit more sensitive towards this kinda thing these days," Ron said. "It's why I've been distracting him so much and not been on his case about the Prince book."

She scowled. "I do not like that book."

"I think you're just mad that with it Harry beat you in Potions. I don't see what you're so upset about. Even without being a Potions star you're still one of Slughorn's favourites," he muttered.

Seeing as he was developing another chip on his shoulder about being the only one not noted by Slughorn, Hermione sought to downplay her and Harry status as Slug Club members as much as possible. "It's not that great. I mean, Zabini's in it, you'd put any stock into a society that considers Zabini a dignified member?"

This seemed to cheer him up. "Yeah, and Malfoy's probably going to become a member too, ain't he? You know, I still don't get how he did so well with that potion. Harry had the book so I get why he made it, but Malfoy's just as awful at potions as the rest of us."

This time, it was Hermione's face that fell as she was reminded about something unsavoury. The conversation with Harry had almost made her forget.

She really didn't know how to approach this Draco incident. That he would go as far as to not only break Harry's nose, but also try to smuggle him back to Platform 9 ¾ , and not seek her out for so much as an apology was really just awful. He'd done this to Harry, and yet didn't seem bothered about what he'd done. So much so, that he wouldn't even look at her. She really was furious.

What nerve to ignore her, after all, wasn't she the wronged party here?

That was probably what bothered her most about all of this.

If he had just let her confront him about it, argue and then make up like they used to, this whole thing could be over already. But instead, he made it so complicated; the way he'd look at her, wincing, flinching, avoiding her, like she'd smack him or something, it was making her feel like an abusive parent and she didn't like it one bit. Sure she was mad, but still…wasn't reacting like this being too much on his part? It wasn't something they couldn't talk about and sort out if he would only stop running!

Hermione squeezed her chest to try and squelch out the painful sting.

She'd thought she'd convinced him last year after that Ministry of Magic incident that they could work through anything if they just trusted each other, that she wasn't going to leave him. She'd hoped she'd finally hammered out all his doubts about them, but perhaps she was wrong.

Didn't he want them to work out?

As she watched Theodore stand from the Slytherin table to meet with Joana at the great hall entrance with a plate of food and snacks, no doubt for Draco, something bubbled up inside her.

It was some kind of anger.

She'd demand an apology at the least. She refused to get into a fight with Draco and not be able to shout it out properly.

And so when they left the great hall, she rose and followed them, leaving Ron behind, who upon watching her go, turned to Lavender Brown and asked, "was it something I said?"

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"Hey," she called and both Joana and Theodore turned with a surprised look just as they were about to enter the Slytherin hallway.

"Granger?" Theodore said, his eyebrow raised into his dark bangs, which really was getting too long now that they dipped into the bridge of his nose. Then suddenly, his confused look turned into a glare.

"Uh…" Joana said awkwardly. "This is a surprise, you don't usually seek us out outside the library, and, especially not in such…anger…what is it?"

What is it…actually, now that Hermione had finally tracked them down…she didn't really know what to say.

"Where is D-Malfoy," she said, correcting herself at the last minute.

Joana raised her eyebrow and took a step forward. "Why?"

She crossed her arms and frowned. "Because…because…because I want to give him a piece of my mind."

If possible, Theodore's half frown/half glare, became a solid glare. "If you're about to tell me this is about him breaking Potter's nose, then you can turn around and give your piece of mind to a hippogriff's arse."

A little taken back by the amount of unexpected hostility, Hermione faltered. She tried to recall a time she'd ever heard Theodore curse, and couldn't.

"Well, not entirely, but…"

"Because Potter had it coming," he continued angrily. "I don't have a problem with you Granger, in fact, in some occasions, I…don't hate you, but if the only reason you want to see Draco is to lecture him, then you're better off asking someone else."

"I wasn't going to—" she tried to say but he cut her off.

"Don't lie to me. That's all you ever do. He's stressed out enough about all this as it is. And he has enough to worry about. I don't even know how he's still functioning like this…" he trailed off, an uncomfortable look on his face.

That stopped her as her blood ran cold. Was Draco in some sort of trouble; was her hunch about potions correct? Was he in some kind of trouble with the strange happenings? All thoughts of Harry and whatnot flew from her head in a flurry of unimportance.

"What are you talking about?" she cried worriedly, grabbing Theodore's sleeve, her face going pale. "What happened, is he ok, is he…"

And in that instant, she realised what she had just done, and clapped her hands over he mouth in horror, trying to push the words she'd just spoken back into her mouth where no one would hear them. But it was too late.

"No, that is to say…what I mean is…he's a classmate…and a fellow prefect, of course I'd be worried, I just…"

As she floundered for words, her heart sunk. This was it; she'd ruined everything, and all in one unfortunate slip up. But she couldn't help it, she'd just been so worried about Draco, her heart had spoken before her mind could shut it up.

But to her surprise, instead of looks of outrage and confusion on Theodore's face, he just rolled his eyes. "Save it Granger, we already know."

Her mind drew a blank. "I…I don't know what you're talking about," she said, not ready to admit anything yet.

"I think you do," he retorted. "I think—"

But Joana raised his hand to squeeze Theodore's arm. "Theo, relax. I'll take it from here."

"What!" he said, turning his anger upon his friend. "You're not seriously—"

"Look, you're tired, angry and not thinking straight. I know you care about Draco and how he's been acting, but taking it out on his girlfriend isn't going to help anything, in fact, it might just make it worse."

They knew. They really knew. Hermione felt a strange tingle go through her mind as her forehead went numb. This…for the first time in six years, someone knew.

Theodore went quiet for a minute, before kissing his teeth and turning away, billowing down the Slytherin corridor in a very Snape-like fashion.

Then it was just Joana and Hermione in that hallway, standing quietly.

Hermione was the first to break the silence. "You…know?"

Joana sighed. "Yes, and I think if we don't want the rest of Slytherin to know, then we better get out of their corridor before more show up. Come on. Let's go somewhere we can talk properly." He reached out his hand and took Hermione's, leading her down the hallway.

She went numbly, barely feeling anything, her mind focused on just two words. They know.

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Joana led her to a small room near Hufflepuff territory. She raised an eyebrow in question.

"Don't worry," Joana assured. "No one else really comes here. It must have been a club room of some sort now, but it's too drafty so now no one uses it."

Hermione didn't reply to that, instead she sat down on a small chair, and looked up, Joana towering over her. "How long have you known?"

Joana shrugged and also sat down, though his height meant he still towered over Hermione. "That you two were more than just sworn enemies? For as long as I've known him. Actually, I knew before Theo," he smiled. "When I first met Draco, he was trying to sleep-apparate; he'd splinched himself in the process. I brought him to my house and tended to him. In his sleep, all he talked about was how wonderful his girlfriend was and how badly he didn't want to let her down."

Hermione flushed horribly at that word, her mind going dizzy.

Joana, seeing this, laughed. "I take it you're not used to hearing someone else refer to you as his girlfriend, huh?"

"No, not really. It feels…strange, like it's real. I mean, I know it's real, but it feels more…like it's not just in my head now, like… since others can see it too. Did he…really say I was his…" she swallowed, "girlfriend?" She tasted the word on her tongue. She decided she liked it.

"Well, not in so many words, but what words he didn't use, he certainly made up for with speeches about how important you are to him. It wasn't hard to draw a conclusion."

"It's just…it's been a secret for so long…Our secret. And now, someone else knows."

"Does it make it less, now that it's not a secret?" Joana asked curiously.

Hermione shook her head. "No, it just…makes it more real now," she smiled.

However, remembering what had led to this discussion, her smile sobered. "Please, Theodore said Draco's had a lot to worry about, what did he mean by that, is he ok, is he…"

"He's ok," Joana said. "Well, no, he's not ok, he's not been 'ok' in years. But that's not the reason Theo was mad."

She let out a small breath of relief. "Thank goodness. I was just…" she paused "but, why was Theodore so angry then?"

Joana went quiet, then he said, "Draco…he's not been in a good state recently, and, it's kinda your fault."

"My fault?"

"Yeah, since the Potter thing, he's been in a right state. Especially since you've been ignoring him."

"Excuse me!" Hermione spluttered. "He's the one who's been ignoring me, not the other way around. He broke Harry's nose for no reason other than he was in a bad mood, doesn't apologise, doesn't look me in the eye, avoids me, ignores me and you're telling me this is my fault."

"It's because he's terrified," Joana said.

"Of what?"

"Of you."

Hermione faltered. "Of me…why in Merlin's name is he scared of me?!"

Joana looked at her for a moment, and then shook his head, sighing heavily. "You really don't get it, and here I thought you would."

"Will you tell me what you mean already?" Hermione snapped, irritated and fed up with the Hufflepuff's elusiveness already.

"Fine then. Let me break it down into Gryffindor logic. He's fucking terrified, he's always fucking terrified. You must be one temperamental bitch, because everything he does that involves you, he does with the fear that if he screws up, he's gonna lose you. This thing with Potter, he's been out of his mind worrying because he thinks when you eventually catch him, it will be to tell him to take a hike."

"But…but…but that's absolutely ridiculous. Why the hell would I ever break up with him over something this small? You have to be mistaken, how could he think that?"

"I don't know. What I do know is that you mean everything to him, but for some reason he doesn't think he means that much to you."

That stung, that stung really bad.

But Joana wasn't done. "You want to know something else I know? And this is just from my perspective, but what do you feel for Draco? Are you sure it's love, are you sure what you feel for him isn't pity, or worse, possessiveness?"

She glared so hard ice would have shattered. "What did you say?"

"You heard me. What exactly is Draco to you? Your boyfriend or your ardent little Slytherin pet? Does it make you feel superior, to think that someone like Draco Malfoy, who disdains everyone else, treats you like a precious work of art? Does it make you feel superior? Are you mad your pet went and disobeyed you, attacking your precious Harry Pott—"

"SHUT UP!" She screamed, standing up and slamming the chair back into the floor so loud it echoed.

Joana wasn't fazed as he raised a delicate, golden eyebrow. "Oh, hit a nerve did I?"

"You…you can say what you want about me. Say I'm stupid, say I'm a Mudblood who doesn't deserve a pureblood prince like Draco, say I'm just a Gryffindor swot, say anything you like about me. But don't you EVER, doubt my feelings for Draco!" she positively snarled at him.

"You've known him for what, a year? Two years? I've known him for six years, six long years! You, you don't know anything about us, about me. You don't know anything about what we've been through, what we are to each other, what he means to me. How dare you, how dare you!"

She heaved, panting from the passion of her exclamation.

Joana didn't seem moved by her though; he just crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "And what does he mean to you?"

Hermione looked him straight in the eye. "Everything."

"Then why doesn't he know that?"

And there it was, the crux of the problem, the thing that plagued Hermione's deepest psyche, that made her toss and turn in her mind and broke her silently every day with its knowledge. Tears filled her eyes and her heart burst.

"I DON'T KNOW!" She wailed, her legs giving way as she fell to the floor and sobbed.

Why, why wouldn't Draco believe in her, even after three years of trying to convince him?

She didn't sob prettily, but loudly, kneeling on her knees and palms and head bent as her tears fell to the floor, yet uncaring of what a sorry state she was in before someone who was still practically a stranger to her.

"I don't know," she wept. "Why won't he believe me? What more can I do to make him believe in me? When I've tried, I've tried so hard to convince him."

No matter what she tried, not matter what she did, no matter how many times she told him she was his, unconditionally and irrevocably, it didn't work.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for him. I'd forgive him for anything if he only asked it. I've given him my heart and my soul yet he treats it like it's a con or a scam and it hurts."

She looked up at Joana, who was staring down at her with a look crossed with confusion and something she couldn't recognise.

"What more can I do?" she beseeched the Hufflepuff. "What more can I say, how many times should I tell him how much he means to me? A hundred times, two hundred times? How many times should I forgive him before he realises I'll always forgive him. Sure, when he messes up, I'm going to get angry, get pissed, maybe throw a tantrum. But it doesn't mean anything in the wider scheme of things, why can't he see that?"

When Joana didn't have an answer for her, she bowed her head again. "So many times he's pushed me away, so many times he's tried to make me run and leave him, but I stayed. Can't he tell that I want to be by his side? He won't tell me when he's hurting or when he's in pain and he won't let me protect him, but I still try. Doesn't he realise I want to share his burden. It's been so long, we've been through so much. Does he really think I'm so fickle, so stupid? Why won't he believe in my feelings for him? He says I mean everything to him; why then is it so hard for him to understand he means the same to me?"

That stupid, stupid boy. What more could she do, she really didn't know anymore.

Was this going to be another year of running, hiding and pretending? No, Hermione wasn't sure she could cope with that.

"I love him, I love him so much. So much I sometimes don't know what to do with this feeling. It's a feeling that tears me apart and burns me, but I still hold onto it with everything I've got. That feeling that means so much to me, doesn't he see it? If anyone's the pathetic, naive, adoring pet, it me," she said with a scornful laugh. "And if he loves me so much, then why won't he let me love him back."

She sobbed, covering her aching eyes with her hands.

Then she felt someone else's hands on her shoulders, gently lifting her up to look at them. Joana had a look of pain and shame as he held her.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have said what I said, it was wrong of me."

They were quiet as her sobs subsided, and she began to breath. Joana held her steadily with his big, bony hands, allowing her to gradually return to stability.

When she'd gathered herself again, she pulled away and began to wipe her face in embarrassment. Seeing this, Joana pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her.

She took it gratefully. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Don't be," he answered. "Something tells me you've been holding that in for quite a while. It's not healthy," then he grinned. "Besides, we're both girls here. What's a bit of crying between us females?"

Hermione laughed. "Please, you're about as much a female as I'm a Hufflepuff."

"Oi, there's nothing wrong with being a Hufflepuff."

They laughed at this.

Joana sighed, and sat back on the floor, crossing his legs as Hermione sat with hers to the side. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I've just been thinking about how it's been for Draco, but you've had it tough too, huh?"

She nodded. "Draco…he confessed to me in fourth year, during the Yule ball. I was shocked, surprised and confused but the more I thought about it, the less strange it seemed. But by the time I realised I was in love with him, he had already fell into his self-hatred phase. He did everything to push me away, even told me our four years of friendship was nothing but a lie to humiliate me."

She sighed at the memory. "But it didn't work. I promised myself that somehow, I would convince him that he could rely on me; make him trust in me and my feelings for him. But no matter what we do, how many times I pounded it into his thick skull, it doesn't work, he just goes right back to that stupid self-hatred. And I don't know what to do anymore."

Joana was quiet. "Hermione, can I ask you something that's been bugging me for a while?"

"Go on, you'll probably ask even if I say no," she laughed.

"Probably," he grinned, and sobered. "Why do you love him then? I mean, I sometimes don't understand it. Why go through all this trouble, both of you. Why do you hold onto each other when all you do is hurt each other like this. Wouldn't it be…simpler to just give up? When something's this difficult to keep up, maybe it just wasn't meant to be?"

Hermione sighed. "It wasn't always like that, we weren't always like that. You've not known us very long so I'm sure to your eyes, it seems like all we ever do is hurt each other. But in the beginning, it was different."

She smiled so radiantly at the memory. "The two of us, it was like we were a part of one another. Anytime something bad happened it wouldn't register as real in my mind until Draco knew and was angry about it. It was the same with happy things, they just weren't real till he knew about them. Everything was so simple back then. We were simple, we just…we made each other happy, that's all. At first I thought he was an arrogant little toe rag, I mean, first he was all 'oh Gryffindors and Slytherins can't be friends' then he wanted to be secret friends. Can you imagine! I was so insulted."

Now she just laughed when she thought about it. "We would sneak out to meet with each other; secret looks, secret notes, secret jokes and laughs we'd have to hide from our friends. Things only we knew about. We'd get angry for each other; mad at each other, then we'd laugh or cry and forgive each other later, going back to how we were before. We always wanted to be together, and we talked about everything. We trusted each other with everything. Harry and Ron were my friends but I was always their friend while they were best friends, and I never felt jealous or minded that because Draco was my best friend. When he confessed, I knew I loved him because I knew I could never be without him."

"But is that love? Or is that just you trying to hold on to the friendship you used to have?"

"No, actually it's exactly the opposite. When all this started happening, I told myself, things were going to change, they would never be like they were. If I was going to love Draco, then I had to change too. But now…I don't know how to explain it. It's like we're in love with each other, but we're just in love, on our own. Our hearts don't touch; they're not connected as they used to be."

"Hmm, maybe you have something there," Joana commented. "It's just, since the day I've met him, if there was one thing, and just one thing I could say about Draco, it would be that that boy is absolutely devoted to you. Almost too devoted," he shrugged. "To Draco, you seemed less like a girlfriend, and…maybe more of an untouchable deity he worshipped. Someone who was on a totally different level from him, someone he could only love from afar. A girlfriend is someone who's with you on the same level. In his mind, he doesn't doubt that he's yours, he just can't imagine you ever being his."

"I know," Hermione sighed. "And I don't know how to convince him otherwise. He says he doesn't deserve me, but look at me," she indicated her red eyes, her puffy snot covered face, her frizzy hair and her unkempt disposition. "Do I look perfect? I'm loud, possessive, jealous, a know-it-all, bossy; I'm as far from perfect as anyone could ever be, I'm just…I'm just a normal girl. I don't know why on earth Draco feels like I'm so unreachable when I'm always standing right beside him…"

She stopped. Every nerve ending in her body froze, she went so still she could have easily been mistaken for being dead, and several things in her big, most-brilliant-student-of-a-century brain began to slot into place.

"He…always feels I'm untouchable," she whispered so quietly. "He always feels I'm forbidden and better than him. He always feels like he's not good for me, he always feels like no matter how badly he wants it, that I could never possibly love him, he always feels!"

"Uhh…"Joana said, a little confused. "Yeah, we kinda established that." He was even more surprised when out of nowhere, Hermione burst out laughing. "He always fe— Oh my god, how the fucking hell have I been so stupid? I'm such a stupid little love-struck martyr, how could I have—" she just laughed.

Joana started to slowly inch away. "Ok, I'm officially creeped out."

At his words, Hermione stopped laughing and stood. She looked down at Joana. "Stand up."

"Yes, ma'am," he said at her snappish tone. Gone was all the previous misery and sadness from her, and he unconditionally jumped up and stood to attention.

She turned to him. "I need to find Draco," she said. "I have to speak with him and this time, there'll be no more running away. But I need your help, where can I corner him so he can't get away again?"

"I guess…right about now he should be on the third corridor," Joana said, thinking.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What the bloody hell is he doing there…you know what, never mind. This time, I'm going to make him tell me why himself," she said determinedly. "But first…"

And then she sighed heavily. "For what it's worth, I'm grateful we had this conversation, and I'm sorry in advance."

"Sorry for wha—Oah," he grunted, as out of nowhere, her small fist collided with his face.

For a girl of Hermione size, she had one hell of a punch. He was knocked clean back.

"What the hell!" Joana exclaimed. "Fuck, I think you broke my nose, what the hell was that for?!"

Hermione rubbed her sore fist on her jumper, and grinned at him sunnily. "Nothing, you pissed me off," and then she was flying out the door faster than you could say Quidditch.

I bet you didn't expect that to happen.

Sorry for the late chapter, but I had writer's block.

Anyway, I think it's better now, so please review.