Note: I apologize that this chapter is much shorter than the other ones, I had to break it off because I had a title for this that I wanted to use, carry on!

The brunette staggered a little as they arrived back in the Manor. It was empty; apparently the Malfoys were out on an errand or some manner of business. Hermione got her bearings, only to see Draco storm off to his room.

"Draco!" She shouted, hurrying after him. She hated it when he just sulked off like this- wait, did she? Shaking her head to clear it, she followed him into his room.

The blonde wizard made his way through the corridors of his home, sauntering his way up the stairs and through more hallways just to get to his room. He heard Hermione call out to him, but didn't even bother to stop. Of course, she'd keep going, she just couldn't drop it one bit. Much like the other Hermione. Man, accept this one was insufferable, but still knew deep down inside that he'd be able to handle her. Whether at her good, or her worst. It didn't matter who she was, he cared for her and that's all there was to it.

Without really meaning to, Hermione swept the door shut behind her, jumping a little as it slammed. Again, before she could stop herself, her hand had reared back only to whip forward, slapping Draco across the cheek.

Once Draco entered his bedroom, he went to go turn around to say something when his bedroom door closed but instead a hand to his face is what he was met with. His hand shot up so face to grip where he was smacked, it felt like he had been burned with a hot iron, it stung and even tingled up his temple. Did she really just hit him? Clear across the face?

"You are not him! Do you hear me? What a stupid thing to say, Draco Malfoy!" She put her hands on her hips. "I can't very well check on my Malfoy where I'm at, and quite frankly I'm tired of doing so! We did try, Draco, time and again, yet he always followed his bloody father! Often trying to maim or kill us along the way." Her furious gaze returned to him; her lips pressed into a thin line. Her voice sounded a thousand feet away, as though she was outside her body.

"Have you gone mad, Hermione! What gives you the bloody right to just slap me when you feel like it, as if it's going to smack some sense into me." He cried out in a gritted tone; jaw tightly locked with the muscles twitched inside. Slowly his hand dropped back to his side, his cheek was still burning and even grown red from the amount of momentum she had in her throw.

"If I am not him, then you are not her. How can you be her when you came from another reality? How could that even be a thing then? Hm, explain that." He questioned her, questions after questions.

Draco decided to drop it about the other Malfoy. It was useless to continue to defend someone who's clearly hurt her in ways he couldn't even imagine him hurting her.

"Do you remember what you said to me once? You said you'd stay by me, through thick and thin. This is thin," Her brow furrowed, and she staggered once more. "Or, wait- when did you...?"

In that second, his heart felt like it stopped beating, it felt like every other noise in his room or in his house had been muffled, if there at all. His brows furrowed so fast, and the coldness in his eyes left quicker than someone when apparating. A shuddered breath slipped from his mouth, his body couldn't even move nor react. All he could do was just stare at her, a blank stare but somewhere in his eyes all the answers came about, swimming and thrusting themselves out to the surface for her.

She sat down abruptly, her head reeling. One hand held her new wand tightly, the other reached absently to her side, incidentally where Draco stood. Her breathing became somewhat erratic, and she shut her eyes tight to try and stop the vertigo. At his touch, when her hand finally found his, her eyes flew wide with a gasp as memories of them flashed across her mind; Draco and his Hermione – Her – locked in veiled embraces of passion, wanting to press on, but never daring to.

No matter the moment, he couldn't bring himself forward to touch her, so when she touched him, wrapping her soft delicate hands in his own his – his breathes became shallow.

'Through thick and thin.'

Were the words that he had told his Hermione. From the beginning when everything was bad at Hogwarts. He had told her that ever since Pansy had introduced them. He'd protect her through anything, through the good and through the bad. He had done her wrong, and he was always the one with the bad blood, while she had the good faith. A faith that he felt he could never reach. He was selfish of what was his, he was stubborn towards things that were unexplainable, he was a downright prat at times, and like control over situations. He had dragged her through the darkest of errors, and she had dragged him through the thinnest. She -

Hermione Jean Granger was the good to his bad.

The Thin to his Thick.

"I'm losing myself," Hermione whispered, "but finding myself." She looked up to Draco, her eyes brimming with tears. He had always been stronger than her, always known what to do. "What if she's back where I was? What if we just... swapped places, and she's being haunted by my memories in a world she doesn't recognize?" Her hand clung desperately to Draco's, and for a brief, mad moment, she wondered again just what he was on about at Ollivander's.

A soft delicate whisper was what snapped him out of his thoughts. Draco took a seat next to her at the edge of his bed with her hand in his. His thumb gently circled around her knuckles, "If you managed to get through anything there, then she can too. I have faith in her. She is not yours to worry about, whether you guys are a part of one another or not." He reassured, "Do you understand me, Hermione?" He asked with a stern tone.

"I'm not yours, but I'm not his either. I'm me, and here." Her brow furrowed, wondering if she was making any sense at all. "I'm with you. Through thick and thin." After all, she always had been, hadn't she?

He slowly nodded his head to what she said about how she wasn't anybody else's but hers. He agreed, she was her own person and even if she was his witch, she would still be her own person. He'd never take that from her. He didn't have the right to have a claim to her, but he deep down, knowing how unhealthy it was – wanted it.

His breath became shaky again upon hearing the words come out of her mouth again. This time instead of allowing himself to freeze up, his free hand slowly came up to rest his knuckles beneath her chin, giving a light pull up and leaned in to place his lips over hers. Allowing his warmth to pass over to her, and letting his other hand slip out of her hand to the back of her neck where the pads of his fingers pressed firmly to the nape. Draco pulled away, just enough to where their lips were mere inches away from each other, he could feel her soft breathes against his lips.

"Through thick and thin."