I can't believe how many reviews/favs/follows I have. This being the first story I have ever put out publically, I wasn't expecting many people to enjoy it. Please know I appreciate all the feedback/follows! I know where I want this story to go and I can see how I want it to end. Having a bit of a writer's block on it. I do, however, have another shorter story that I have also been working on, that is nearly finished and will be posted once it is! Hopefully you can get into that one as well, and maybe once I post it, the slow updates on this one won't be so bad.

Chapter Fourteen

Draco clasped his hands in front of himself, elbows resting on his knees. He stared at the floor, trying to begin. He sighed and leaned back in the chair, making eye contact with Dumbledore.

"I was the reason Weas-Ron was poisoned."

To Draco's surprise, Dumbledore chuckled slight. "I deduced that, once you had confirmed you have been trying to kill me. You certainly have paid attention to me for some time, knowing my favorite mead."

Draco simply gaped at the old wizard. Dumbledore leaned forward on his desk. "Mister Malfoy, I may be old, but my wits have not dulled quite yet. I daresay you consider yourself an intelligent young man. Don't delude yourself into thinking she will never find out."

Draco's eyebrows shot up. "Sir?"

"No sense in denying it, I know what I see in you. And in her. You must tell her how you feel, we are in a war; you may never have the chance again. But furthermore, you must tell her that you almost – albeit, accidentally – caused the death of one of her closest friends."

Draco closed his eyes. He hadn't even admitted his feelings to himself yet, he had merely rationalized them by telling himself he felt this way because she had saved his life. Dumbledore was right though. He needed to admit it, to himself and to her.

But would she feel the same? Would she forgive him for nearly killing Weasley?

Draco found himself on the grounds next to lake just awhile later. He still was unsure of what he wanted to do. As much as he was loathe to admit it, Dumbledore was right. There was something brewing in him for Granger.

Draco wasn't sure if the old man had been right though, about Granger possibly having feelings for him, too. He thought he may have seen something in her; and she had saved him, and helped his mother. She was a kind hearted person though; could that be all it was? Could Dumbledore be confusing her helpful nature for feelings?

Draco stood and made his way around the lake, practicing building Occlumency walls in his head. Between being the reason his mother was "kidnapped" to his newly admitted feelings for a particular Mudblood, Draco needed to make sure his walls were steady, pristine, strong – at all times.

Draco was focusing on creating his walls as the sun was setting. He stopped to watch the sun sink slowly behind the Forbidden Forest as he slowly built his mental defenses brick by brick.

As the sun made its final descent, the air became colder. Draco shivered slightly as he continued to stare at the sky. The more days that past, the more he felt the pressure of being a turncoat. He could help take down the Dark and that thought filled him with a strange sense of pride that he had never felt before.

He knew his chances of drying had increased significantly since turning to the Light, but he felt comforted knowing that if he died, it would be for a better cause now. He wouldn't be dying by blindly following his father's terrible guidance. He only hoped that his mother would survive it all, that she would know he did it for her.

The air became too chilly for him to bear any longer and he began his trek back around the lake toward the castle. He still worked on strengthening his inner barriers as he walked, hands in his pockets. He wasn't sure where he was headed. There was too much on his mind to want to head to the dungeons; there was nothing left to do in the Room of Requirement. He finally decided to head to the library, telling himself he just wanted a book, that he wasn't going there to find Hermione.

Draco's heart pounded as he neared the library, still telling himself he wasn't going there to look for Hermione. He wasn't ready to see her, he wasn't sure if he wanted to tell her how he felt. He wasn't sure if he ever would be. He entered the library and quickly scanned the first few rows of books, finding no one. The hour was ticking later, and curfew was approaching, so it was no surprise that the whole place seemed empty.

His feet carried him toward the back of the library, seeking out the place he knew he was most likely to find her. His pace quickened as he drew closer, any second now he'd see her… He just had to do it, just had to tell her, they were in the middle of a war, she had to know… He rounded the bookshelf that blocked her favorite chair from view…

It was empty. She wasn't there. He gaped dumbly at the empty seat for a moment. After his heart slowed down and the disappointment sunk in, he flopped ungracefully into the chair and scrubbed his hands across his face. It was a clear sign. He shouldn't tell her.

Suddenly, he heard a sharp intake of breath. "Malfoy…" his eyes shot open and there she was. He had just seen her earlier, but she had changed clothes since. She was wearing a pair of Muggle denims that hugged her hips close, and a deep blue sweater with her hair tied back. She was looking at him with her head tilted. He couldn't read her face. "I've been looking for you," she whispered.

Draco stood. "I've been looking for you too," he whispered back as he stepped closer to her. He expected her to take a step back but she didn't. She looked up at him. He had never realized how much taller he was than she.

Before he could stop himself, he raised his hand and traced a line from her temple to her chin. She didn't shy away as he lifted her chin to look into her eyes. With nerve he didn't realize he possessed, he gently laid his lips on hers and felt her body go tense. Just as he was about to pull away, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her.

His heart was pounding again, he could hear it in his ears. She was kissing him back. He looped his free arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Just as he noticed he needed air, she broke the kiss. He laid his forehead on hers, keeping his eyes closed.

"We need to talk," he said. He felt her nod slightly and sighed. This would be difficult.