ATTN: JUST RE-UPLOADING THE SAME CHAPTER BECAUSE WAS HAVING SOME ERRORS!

Hello again. Interesting journey we're going on here together! Haha I'm fairly determined to tell a particular story and a couple of my lovely reviewers have already identified my K-drama inspiration. Soooo for those who are growing increasingly frustrated with Hermione – welcome to anger zone. She's struggling. You're just going to have to forgive her!

I am fully prepared for more rage reviews. Bring it on! But also… please try to enjoy the angst ride and just let go of your worries...

As always, JKR holds all this history in her capable hands.

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Chapter Twelve

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Draco woke blearily, the room bathed in the sunlight that was now streaming in through the balcony window. He blinked sluggishly, taking in his surroundings and trying to catalogue all the sensations he was experiencing. The sheets were tangled up around his body, and they smelled of jasmine and sea salt and were cool to touch. His body was lethargic, limbs heavy and satisfied and his lips were swollen and red.

In a sudden rush of clarity, Draco experienced several significant flashbacks from last night, causing him to shoot upright in bed with a ragged breath.

Kissing in the moonlight.

Fresh, summer rain cascading down on them from above.

Tugging urgently at each other's clothes.

Buried inside her and feeling like he was finally where he belonged.

Draco flushed with mortification, remembering how quickly he'd cum, like some kind of juvenile teen with his first boner. But she'd been right there with him, he recalled, and he found himself flushing for a different reason altogether.

Hermione…

As his thoughts cleared and he shook his head, Draco swivelled around, searching the room. The bed next to him was empty, and there was no sign of his wife anywhere. Closing his eyes for a second, Draco pressed a hand to his forehead. Had he done something wrong? He wracked his brain for every last second of memory from the previous night, although it was difficult to separate his rational thoughts from the sensory echo of her breath in his ear, or the way her fingernails stung his back as she pulled him closer.

Draco groaned and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. There was something else that he was forgetting. A collection of things he'd pushed aside at the time.

Hermione murmuring 'we should stop' right before the storm hit. His urgency, demanding that she take her clothes off while he pressed her down into the bed. A single tear running down her cheek after they were done.

And finally the last nail in the coffin, something that had become lost in the dreamy haze he'd fallen into once they'd finished.

Hermione… I love you.

Oh god, he'd actually said that, hadn't he? He wasn't imagining things?

Well no wonder she was bloody gone, he thought, cursing himself for being such a monumental fool. He'd clearly rushed her last night, jumping about a million steps on the road to romance, ruining all the plans he'd had for slowly wooing his wife when he came up with this beach holiday idea.

Sweet Salazar, Draco, you've really shoved your whole foot into it this time.

Why did he have to attack so strongly, ravaging her with abandon while their family lay sleeping peacefully next door? Didn't he have any self-control? And then, as if he wasn't stupid enough already, he'd gone and confessed his love for her like it was just a sleepy afterthought.

You should have told her over a candlelight dinner with a hundred red roses and a diamond bloody necklace or something, he scolded himself, his hands curling into fists. She was probably completely overwhelmed now. He was paying her to be his wife after all, and now he'd gone and mauled her like a caveman and made the whole thing seem so sordid.

Draco groaned, clutching the sheet to his naked body and pulling himself together. He had to fix this. He had to do it right and tell her how he felt properly. The thought secretly terrified him, but she needed to know the truth. Besides, it wasn't every day you fell in love with your wife. And even though he'd acted like a crazed maniac last night, the event had crystallised everything into one vivid, inescapable conclusion.

He needed her.

Now that he'd got a taste of what it was like to sleep with someone he actually cared about, he could never go back to just having meaningless flings or living alone like some cold, work-obsessed hermit. Last night he'd experienced intimacy on a whole different level and he wanted more. He wanted Hermione.

Draco hurriedly tugged on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, hoping to god that everyone was just having breakfast down in the sunroom and they'd all tease him for sleeping in and arriving late. Not pausing to fix his hair even though it was sticking out in all directions, Draco shoved a pair of shoes on and practically sprinted down to the breakfast room. He looked around desperately for the sight of his little family, but they were nowhere to be seen. Next he checked the reception area, before finally racing outside into the garden that overlooked the sea, where he'd first kissed his wife last night.

There, sitting on one of the cliff side benches was his mother. Draco sighed with relief and jogged over towards her, stopping to catch his breath as she smiled up at him in greeting.

"Good morning Draco," she began, before noticing his dishevelled state, "goodness, you're a total mess this morning, dear. Whatever is the matter?"

"Do you know where Hermione is?" he asked instead, looking around as if she would appear any moment from some corner of the garden. Narcissa cocked her head to one side, watching him curiously.

"She's not here. She said you were still sleeping and she didn't want to wake you…"

"Where did she go?" he demanded, praying they'd just gone for an early morning swim.

"Well… she left," Narcissa told him gently, clearly realising that he wasn't in his right state of mind at the moment, "I think her friend Lavender needed help with something, so they've both gone. Her and Sophie. They've taken all their things with them too."

Draco groaned and sat down on the bench next to her, dropping his head into his hands.

"Draco, darling? Are you alright?"

He let out a shaky breath and peered up at his mother.

"Did she say she was coming back?" he asked pitifully, already knowing the answer and feeling terrible. It was official. He'd scared her off.

"I don't think so, dear. But aren't we checking out in a couple of hours anyway? I assumed you knew she was leaving."

He nodded numbly and let out a long breath, his shoulders drooping as he deflated somewhat. If she'd gone to Lavender's place then he couldn't very well chase her down there, could he? Draco chewed his lip and forced himself to accept that he'd have to be patient and hope that he hadn't pushed her too far.

As the breeze whipped his unruly hair across his forehead, Draco grit his teeth and allowed himself a moment to feel hurt. Even though he truly believed that he'd rushed her last night and that he should have courted her properly, he still couldn't help but feel a sting of rejection that she'd just up ad left like that. Why didn't she try talking to him? They were sort of friends now weren't they? If she'd been honest with him and said she wanted to slow things down after last night then he would have absolutely accepted whatever terms, as long as he could just continue to be around her.

A gentle hand on his shoulder drew Draco's attention back to the present, and he saw his mother looking at him with a tender smile.

"I've decided that I'm going to stay here another week," she told him, and he blinked down at her in surprise.

"Stay?" he repeated, confused.

"Yes. I find the scenery to be… rejuvenating. It will do me some good, I think."

Draco nodded slowly, taking note of the calm, confident expression on his mother's face. She certainly looked at peace here by the sea.

"I can talk to the manager-" he began but she waved him off regally.

"Already done. I'm booked until next Sunday, and I've made some appointments at the local spa too."

"You've certainly planned this all out," he told her with a wry smile. His mother reached over and touched her hand to his cheek affectionately.

"I'm finally feeling… content. During the war, and then later in Azkaban… I forgot how to be myself. How to be happy. But I think it's starting to come back to me now. Thanks to you. And Hermione and darling Sophie of course."

Draco gave her a smile, feeling emotions of relief and love swelling up inside him for his mother. He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.

"I'm glad," he told her genuinely. And then Narcissa's expression turned slightly knowing and she grasped his hand.

"Besides, it seems to me as though you could use some time alone with your wife."

He grimaced and avoided her eye, not sure of the extent of her knowledge on the subject. When he didn't say anything, she squeezed his hand and continued,

"I know the sacrifices you made to save me, Draco," she told him, and he lifted his gaze to meet hers, stunned by her candour, "And I know your marriage didn't exactly start in the conventional way…"

Draco blinked, staring at his mother in surprise.

"How did you figure it out?" he asked her ruefully.

"Oh please. You both act like a pair of lovesick teenagers lost in the throws of your first crush. Hardly the picture of marital familiarity, now are you?"

Draco snorted and ran a shaky hand through his hair.

"So you've known the whole time," he guessed, a pink tinge of embarrassment rising on his face.

"Well, maybe not the whole time. But darling, you've clearly fallen in love with the poor girl. Why don't you just put each other out of your misery and make it official?"

"That easy, huh?"

Narcissa smiled in that knowing way of hers.

"Why not? Is it such a crime to love your wife?"

Draco grimaced, thinking of the contract agreement locked up safe in his office bureau, the tens of thousands of galleons he still owed her, and the little girl who he'd become so attached to in recent weeks who'd experienced more than enough turmoil in her very short lifetime.

"It's a little more complicated than that," he sighed after a moment, rubbing his tired eyes and staring out towards the glistening horizon.

"Follow your heart, dear. It won't lead you astray. And have courage."

Draco smiled warmly at Narcissa, thinking of his earlier determination to find his wife, to convince her that they should be together for real.

Maybe his mother was right.

He should follow whatever path his heart determined.

And he knew without any doubt that it had always and would always lead him right back to Hermione.

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Clutching her stomach and staring blankly at the wall in front of her, Hermione was only vaguely aware of her friend returning to the bedroom. The first clue was the aroma wafting up from a steaming cup of lemon and ginger tea she carried. Then Lavender put one hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Here… I thought you might need this."

There was a hitch in her friend's voice. Hermione blinked and looked over at the other witch. Lavender's eyes were red and swollen, but otherwise she seemed to have composed herself after her earlier meltdown.

"Thank you," Hermione murmured, accepting the cup and sipping it quietly while they sat on the bed together. They were in Lavender's rather small but pleasingly decorated apartment, and thankfully Sophie had gone down for a nap in the guest bedroom while she was out. Thank Merlin for Auntie Lavender. The woman could convince Sophie to do anything. Hermione shivered and drew the throw rug more tightly around her shoulders.

"So… what's the next step?" the blonde witch asked hoarsely.

Hermione gave a weak shrug. She sipped cautiously at the tea before placing it on the bedside table as her stomach turned again.

"Just keep taking the potion and hope for enough time…"

Lavender looked stricken but she tried to smile stiffly.

"But there's a chance it will work better the second time around, right?"

Hermione paused, before nodding morosely even though she knew it was a lie. Earlier, Hermione had turned up at Lavender's doorstep, dropping off her daughter so that she could head to St Mungo's for a check up. Her nerves twisting themselves into knots, she'd sat in front of the same Medi-Witch as last time, bracing herself when the woman met her eye with a sad, pitying expression.

"I'd really hoped for better, but it looks like the potion hasn't been successful shrinking the mass by more than a couple of millimetres. I'm so sorry, Mrs Malfoy…"

Hermione closed her eyes. In a daze she'd returned to her friend's apartment, and Lavender had clearly seen the distress on her face. That was when she'd confessed everything. She'd told Lavender every single horrible detail about her illness, her marriage to Draco and of course… what had happened last night.

"Well let's try to stay positive, yes?" Lavender now said with a shaky sort of smile, and she knew her friend wasn't sure what else she was supposed to do. Neither did Hermione, for that matter.

After her visit to the doctor, she'd briefly apparated to the forest of Dean, standing at a place where the dense thicket of trees met the cliffs. She stood there numbly, remembering when she'd camped there with her parents when she was little. It was the first time she'd ever used magic. Her parents had been setting up the tent further back down the hill and she'd gone wandering. Her foot had slipped when the rocky ledge had crumbled underneath her. The sheer drop beneath her had made her dizzy as she'd experienced a moment of pure panic. But the fall she'd been dreading never happened. She'd drifted there for a second, suspended over the edge as light as a feather, before drifting back to safer ground.

It was the first time in her life she'd truly felt… right. Like the missing piece of the puzzle was finally in place.

Standing on that same cliff face this afternoon, Hermione had yelled up at the sky in futile anger. The same magic that had saved her as a child couldn't help her now. After everything she'd gone through to afford the damn potion, it hadn't made a difference at all. Now, with the hope of buying more time gone, it felt like she was looking down the barrel of a gun and just waiting to die.

And yet, with that last ray of hope dwindling, she'd gone and done something so monumentally cruel and stupid it brought a sick wave of shame to her gut. As if Lavender had heard her train of thought, she let out a long sigh next to her, fiddling with a loose thread on the quilt.

"And… what about Malfoy?"

Hermione closed her eyes as a pain throbbed in her head. She curled her hands into fists.

"I was such a fool," she muttered furiously, shaking all over as her friend grasped onto her hand.

"Hey, don't say that! So maybe you went and shagged your fake husband… is that really so bad?"

"He said he's in love with me," Hermione muttered darkly, "he was half asleep at the time but I know he meant it."

"He loves you?" Lavender asked, her blue eyes blowing out wide with a little smile curling at her lips. She was a hopeless romantic to the last.

"That's what makes it so awful. I should have never slept with him. I'm a terrible person."

"How can you even think that? You love him too, right? Or did you suddenly become a wonderful actress?"

Hermione sighed, her eyes stinging.

"It doesn't matter. I'm dying, Lavender."

"Yeh, and regardless of the initial reasons for marrying him, he is your husband!"

"But it's so unfair to give him hope, to start a real relationship with him when there's no chance of a future between us. It would be wrong. I'd be putting him through torture just for… what? A couple of weeks or months together?"

Lavender exhaled sadly, frowning at her friend.

"Well I think you should just tell him the truth and let him decide. Let him have the opportunity to choose to go through this by your side."

Logically Hermione supposed that her friend was probably right. But the other witch didn't realise how much poor Draco had already been through. First his horrible father, then the war, being forced to become a death eater, Voldemort living in his home, being threatened, tortured, prosecuted and then having to endure his mother going to prison and her poor health as a result.

It wasn't fair to drag him through something like this as well.

"I can't, Lavender," she told her friend quietly, "I know Draco. He'll get his hopes up, and he'll fight and fight and then… in the end, he'll just be heartbroken. It's better if I end things before they can really begin."

"It sounds like they've already begun," the blonde witch teased gently, though there was a pitiful edge to her voice, and her gaze was still haunted.

"All the more reason to stop now. And Sophie… god, she adores Draco. I should have never let them get so attached. It's not like he'll want to visit her at the Burrow once I'm… once she's living there. "

"He has charmed the socks off her. She couldn't stop raving about him this afternoon."

"So I've heard," Hermione murmured wryly, remembering how bemused George had been by her daughter's raptures about Draco Malfoy as well.

"Hermione… are you sure this is what you want to do? Of course, you can stay here as long as you like, both of you, but do you really want to miss your chance at love?"

Hermione hung her head, fighting to draw in one long even breath as her hands trembled.

"I've already missed it, Lav. And at least this way Draco can try to move past us and get on with his life. He truly deserves that after everything that's happened. He deserves to have a real family."

Her friend nodded slowly, seeming resigned to her choice even though she clearly didn't like it. Then a sudden knock at the front door interrupted the moment and made the blonde witch sit up straight, her eyes widening as she gasped loudly.

"Oh buggering hell," she cursed, "I completely forgot."

"What? What is it?"

"I was supposed to… I forgot to cancel…"

Hermione looked at the other woman curiously, wondering at the sudden blush on her cheeks and the furtive glances she was giving down to her watch.

"What did you forget to cancel?" she asked curiously, feeling strangely like laughing despite the heavy weight in her heart, especially when her friend's blush darkened into a deep crimson.

"I was meant to go on a date tonight," Lavender mumbled self-consciously, and this time Hermione really did chuckle.

"Well go then!" she demanded.

"What? No! I'm not going anywhere!" she replied, horrified.

"Lavender, I want you to just keep being normal. Please! Go on your date. I'll be fine. Once Sophie's awake I'm going to take her down to the local park and spend some time together, just the two of us."

"But… you…we…."

There was another knock at the door, this time louder. A familiar voice called out Lavender's name from the other side curiously.

"Eeehh… just give me a second!"

Lavender darted to her feet and practically sprinted into the next room. Hermione heard the front door opening and listened in bemusement to the other witch's conversation.

"Hiiiii, oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Lavender greeted in a slightly hurried fashion.

"Is everything okay? We did say six o'clock, right?"

"Yes we did! I just got distracted. I'm not even dressed."

"What are you talking about? You look gorgeous."

"Too smooth, buddy. Too smooth! I haven't even done my hair!"

"You could be wearing a sack and you'd still be the prettiest witch in the restaurant."

Hermione frowned. That voice… she'd heard it enough before to feel a creeping sense of recognition. Jumping to her feet with the blanket still draped around her shoulders, she approached the bedroom door and took a curious peak at Lavender's mystery date.

"Theo?" she gasped, staring at the handsome wizard leaning against the front door wearing an expensive suit and carrying a single red rose. A little on the corny side, but then Lavender was a little bit corny.

"Oh! Hermione! Errr…. Hi!"

Theo looked slightly awkward, but it was nothing compared to the mortified, incredibly guilty grimace on Lavender's face as she spun around to see her friend.

"Hermione!"

"Theo's your date?" she asked, tilting her head to the side with a quirk of one eyebrow.

"Okay, so don't be wigged out about this, but I've kinda been seeing him, even though I swore I'd never date a Slytherin ever again and he's not exactly my usual type and his father was a death eater and he's your husband's best friend-"

"Standing right here," Theo muttered awkwardly, but Hermione just held up a hand, stemming the flow of Lavender's rant and giving her friend a gentle smile.

"Woah, slow down Lav. Why would I be mad at you for dating Theo?"

Lavender stared at her.

"Um… I dunno. Because I kept it a secret?"

"I can hardly judge you for that now can I?" she commented, thinking of the time she sprung on her best friend that she was marrying Draco Malfoy out of the blue. When Lavender and Theo both exchanged a guilty look with each other, Hermione changed tact.

"So how long have you guys been seeing each other?" she asked, hiding a grin behind her hand.

"Seven weeks-"

"Eight weeks-"

The couple turned to each other as they gave different answers, and Lavender gave him one of her fiercest glares.

"What? You don't count that weekend we spent together in Prague?"

"Well, if you recall, darling, we didn't exactly go out on many dates that weekend. It was more of a… sleepover."

"It was the best weekend of your life," Lavender declared primly, folding her hands petulantly across her chest. Theo just chuckled.

"Well I can't deny that."

Hermione shook her head in bewilderment just as Lavender seemed to remember something, turning to her date with an apologetic expression.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm sorry Theo… but I really need to stay in tonight with Hermione-"

Theo looked over at her with a slight look of puzzlement on his normally cheeky features.

"Where's dearest Draco tonight?" he asked, throwing in a wink at the end just for fun. Hermione sighed.

"I'm not sure where he is right now. But you should still go on your date."

"Mione, I can't just go," Lavender scolded her, taking a few steps towards her and giving her a stern, meaningful stare, "I can't leave you here by yourself…"

Hermione knew what her friend meant. It had been a tumultuous and emotionally overwhelming afternoon sharing her story with the other witch. Now Lavender knew the terrible truth. And of course the last thing she wanted to do was abandon her dying friend and go out for dinner with her boyfriend.

"I'm not by myself, I've got Sophie," Hermione reminded her softly, taking the girl by the shoulders, "Seriously, Lav. I want you to go have fun. After… the news I received today," she said this part in a whisper so that Theo would not overhear them even as he leaned closer in open curiosity, "I'd really like some alone time with my daughter. Go. I'll be fine."

Eventually Lavender nodded, though she appeared a bit guilty about it still.

"Alright, but you call me immediately if you need anything, deal?"

"Deal."

Lavender sighed and just for a second Hermione caught a glimpse of the true devastation on her friend's face. She might be a sassy and upbeat person by nature, but it was clear her friend was deeply shaken by the news and the anguish was clear if you knew where to look.

"I love you, Mione, you big goose," she croaked suddenly, throwing her arms around her friend and clutching her tightly.

"Love you too," Hermione whispered into her shoulder as they hugged. The embrace lasted a long time, so long that she could clearly hear Theo shuffling awkwardly in the background, probably wondering what on earth had got them so emotional. When they separated, Lavender looked like she was fighting some kind of internal battle. She clearly didn't feel right about leaving, but probably also appreciated that she needed time to absorb the news of her friend's condition. Eventually she turned and shrugged on a coat, tucking her hair behind her ears in an attempt to look pretty- not that she needed it – and approached Theo.

"Everything alright…?" the wizard asked hesitantly, looking between the two of them in concern.

"Yes. I just need a stiff drink or maybe ten," Lavender told him, smiling shakily as he took her hand in his and gave it a comforting squeeze. With one last sad smile back at her friend, she guided Theo out the door, closing it gently behind her.

Then Hermione was alone. She slumped down on the sofa, closing her eyes and letting out the choked sob she'd been holding in all this time. Ever since she'd left the doctor's office, she'd been in a state of almost numb detachment, with the exception of her short outburst in the forest of Dean.

Throughout these the last few months, she'd carried around a desperate hope and a solid, enduring belief that the potion would reduce the size of her mass, that she might gain months, years even, to spend with her daughter. That hope had sustained her through all the dark thoughts and all the secrecy, no matter how unlikely the odds. But now she knew it hadn't worked. The potion had made her as sick as a dog and had twisted her up inside and out for weeks. It had cost her thousands of galleons. And it had all been for nothing.

It's time, she thought to herself grimly, staring almost sightlessly at a spot on the carpet, it's time to say my goodbyes and to prepare Sophie for a life without her mother.

She resolutely would not think about Draco Malfoy and the stupid, amazing, wonderful feelings he had inspired in her last night. That ship had sailed. She wanted him to be happy and to live a full life now that he was free from all other restraints. She wanted him to move on and be at peace, not end up stuck caring for a dying wife he'd only married a few months ago to improve his public image. She could at least save him from that pain.

With Narcissa safe from any Ministry retribution now that she had been pardoned and was no longer under house arrest, it was time to divorce Draco and give him back his freedom.

Then all she had to do was break the news to Sophie that they'd be moving house again.

Merlin help me…

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Okaaaay. Bring on the angry reviews. OR you could just embrace the pain and buy a ticket on the angst train. It would be dreadfully boring without some emotional hurdles and infuriating baggage. Be kind!