A/N: Hi guys, here comes a really long chapter for you - well, long compared to my other chapters. They have quite a lot to talk about...

So, enjoy! And please review! *puppy eyes*

10. What Lies Beneath

Draco hated hospitals. They made him feel sick and scared. A look around told him that everyone else felt the same. All clubbers were waiting in the reception room of St. Mungos, just Harry as Ginny's husband was allowed into her room. Hermione looked … he couldn't describe it properly; there were traces of guilt in her eyes and fear in her frown, her fists were clenched to keep her hands from shaking. He wanted to soothe her, but he didn't know what to say.

Suddenly a door opened and Harry entered the room, looking tired but alleviated. A collective sigh of relief surged through the crowd, even before he opened his mouth.

"Ginny's okay, the baby as well. She is sleeping now. She was mainly dehydrated and over-exerted, but they gave her some potions and … she is fine now." He tried to smile, but failed. Hermione jumped up instantly and embraced him. "I'm so sorry, Harry, I should've said something or done something …"

"It's okay," he whispered barely audible, but clung to her as if his life depended on it. Finally, he stepped away and declared, "She'll be back home tomorrow, so if you want to visit her …" His voice trailed away. Abruptly, he turned around and disappeared into Ginny's room. Ron had jumped up as well and hugged Hermione now, who was unable to stop her tears.

Slowly the group broke up and gradually people returned home. Draco followed Hermione to the floo.

"Hey, are you all right? It wasn't your fault," he said quickly.

She turned around, tears still streaming over her face. "I'm so sorry, D-Draco, for e-everything," she sobbed bitterly. "I treated you a-awfully because I – I was scared and because I'm l-lonely and a complete f-f-failure."

"Shh," he comforted her in a low voice and pulled her into him. "It's okay. You're not a failure. Shh." He let her cry into his robes and rubbed her back until she had calmed down a bit. Everyone had left by now and absolutely nobody seemed to be present in the whole hospital. It was deadly quite.

"Draco?" she whispered. "We are friends now, right?"

He nodded.

"So could I ask … could you … I don't want to be alone. Could you come with me?" she stuttered, avoiding his eyes. He knew she didn't imply anything, she just wanted some comfort, and he'd gladly give it to her.

"Of course," he answered sincerely and guided her to the fireplace.

Back at her place he automatically put the kettle on, while she disappeared into the bathroom to change and wash away the smeared make-up. In the time she returned, the tea was ready. She had stopped crying, but her eyes were puffy and swollen.

"Here," he offered, handing her the cup.

"Thanks," she mumbled. Suddenly, the alcohol she had drunken became noticeable, and she nearly stumbled before sitting down.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked after a few minutes of silence.

"About what?" she slurred.

"Today? Everything…?" he suggested. He still didn't know what to make of her behaviour. When she had kissed that guy, the monster inside him wanted to rip them apart and scream at her and punch the other guy. Jealousy was a cruel thing. What had Shakespeare written? 'O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock the meat it feeds on.' Somehow he didn't feel like this was the right moment to impress her with his knowledge of muggle literature.

"You want to know why I felt guilty?" she asked shakily.

"Amongst other things."

A deep sigh escaped her lips. "Let's make a deal. We ask each other questions by turn."

"But maybe you should take some sober-up potion first, so you remember my answers," he joked.

"You're right. It's too late. The sun is already rising. We'll do this tomorrow," she whispered, rubbing her temples.

"Promise?" The hope was evident in his voice. Would she finally let him in?

"Promise." Tiredly, she handed him a blanket. "Do you mind, if I leave the door open?"

His eyes turned soft at her vulnerability. He knew how much it cost her to show it to him. "No. Tyger, tyger, remember?"

She smiled faintly. "Good night."

He watched her walking into her bedroom but leaving the door wide open. The room was still dark, so he could only see a shadow crawling beneath the blankets. He watched her until he was sure she was sound asleep, then he transfigured his robes into more comfortable clothes and stretched out on the couch. Thank Merlin he was a wizard. How did muggles manage to sleep on too hard and too small sofas at all?

He felt bone tired, but sleep simply wouldn't come. She was sleeping only a few metres away from him. He could even hear her breathing. So he tossed and turned till the wee hours of the morning.

Draco woke up with a jolt. For a second, he didn't recognise his surroundings, but then it dawned on him. He was in Hermione's apartment. Bright sunlight streamed through the blinds, making him feel like Thor was using his head as training target for Mjölnir, his hammer. He groaned and closed his eyes again.

Something had woken him, maybe a nightmare, but he couldn't quite catch it. He didn't feel ready to stand up now, even with the hangover-potion he kept in his pockets. All of a sudden Hermione started screaming loudly. "No, n-no. Ginny! No!"

At once he rose and sprinted to her room.

"Please, Viktor!" she screamed again in a voice that terrified him.

"Hermione! WAKE UP!" he roared, and this time she heard him at once, jerking awake. Panting heavily, she stared at him with big, frightened eyes, still held captive by her nightmare. "Tyger, tyger," he stated rapidly.

She blinked, then blinked again, and finally groaned. "Ouh, my head."

"Here." Swiftly he put the potion into her numb fingers. "Drink that. You'll feel better in a minute." She still appeared pale and drawn, not quite in the reality yet. But her eyes became clearer every second and soon she focused on him. "Draco. Oh, I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologise. I was awake anyway." He smiled and squeezed her hand.

He knew quite a bit about nightmares – unfortunately – but her nightmares … they were something different. He normally didn't thrash about or used accidental magic like she did, furthermore, his nightmares weren't quite as intense as hers seemed to be. And he had never screamed the name of his ex. That wasn't normal, so, he deduced, something bad had happened between them. He felt the urge to ask her, but she didn't appear ready yet, so instead he helped her stand up and then went into the kitchen to make some breakfast. His headaches subdued after taking the potion, and when he opened her fridge, he noticed how hungry he was. He piled everything he could find onto the table and waited impatiently for Hermione. When she entered, she looked better, but still not like her usual self.

"You made breakfast?" she asked incredulously.

"Ey! Don't be so surprised. I know how to cook for myself."

"Well, then thank you." She smiled and sat down. As soon as she touched the first slice of toast, he started stuffing food in his mouth.

"So, does your offer still stand?" he asked, after he had swallowed half a slice of toast with jam.

"You mean from last night? To answer your questions?" Her voice was careful, timid, as if she wasn't sure he'd remember.

He nodded. Please, say yes, please, please, he pleaded inwardly. He couldn't let her push him away anymore.

"I owe you, so of course. You get 10 questions, but only if I get 10 in return," she demanded, a light smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

He liked the way she negotiated. "Fair enough. Do you want to start or shall I?"

"Shoot," she said and stared at him expectantly.

There were so many questions buzzing around in his head. He wanted to be careful to not fail the trust she had put in him. "Well," he started, biting into another slice of toast, "why did you feel guilty?" That was probably the question she expected.

"This is a longer story," she mumbled and sipped her tea. "If I tell you, please don't judge me."

"I would never –"

She held up her hand. "And let me finish."

He nodded silently.

"Okay. The obvious reason is that I've been seeing Ginny for weeks now and I didn't notice how bad she really felt. I was only thinking about me and my self-pity. Especially yesterday … she was so pale. I shouldn't have let her go out or I should have told Harry. I know he'll feel miserable, because he's her husband and he didn't do anything to prevent it. Anyway." She swallowed. "The reason I feel even guiltier is that I was jealous of Ginny. It's her third baby now, and I – I wanted children so badly. But it didn't work with Viktor and me. I'm such a selfish person. I thought about how I envied her, but …" She stopped, shaking. "If something would've happened to her or the baby … I don't know if I had survived that. I'm such an awful friend."

"You are not, Hermione. If you hadn't been there with her in the bathroom, Merlin knows what could've happened," he tried to comfort her. "Please, stop feeling guilty because of something as petty as jealousy."

She shrugged. "You don't need to cheer me up." Then she tilted her head a bit, watching him carefully. "So you don't want children?"

"Is that your first question?"

She nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Well, my mother would be heartbroken and my father furious because, without children, the Malfoy line would end. But for me, personally, I don't think I've ever really considered the possibility of not having children since it was expected of me. However, Astoria and I never married and without marriage, no children." He smiled nonchalantly. "So, I really don't know. I don't think I have a choice in that matter."

Suddenly, Hermione looked downcast. "Oh."

"What?" he enquired.

"Nothing, just … what if your future wife can't have children, what would you do?" she asked out of the blue.

He pulled a face. "I really don't know. It's not her fault, so I wouldn't judge her, or pressure her, or anything …" he said slowly, guessing the background of her question. "We would find a way. Does that answer your question?"

She nodded slightly.

"Then, here's my next one for you. Is that what Viktor did? Pressure you? Is that, why he was in your nightmare tonight?"

She froze and stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights. "That's two questions."

"Humour me."

She swallowed hard and started to put some chocolate cream on her toast. He knew she was stalling, but he was prepared to wait. After a while she finally whispered, "You are right. Ginny and Lavender were having babies soon after they'd married, but we didn't … and he blamed me." She closed her eyes for a moment. "We had so many fights about it. That was the reason I was jealous as well. At that time, I thought if I could only get pregnant, it'd fix our marriage. I felt awful for not being the wife I should be."

Draco clenched his teeth, but remained silent. Of course, she would feel that way. She was always good at everything, and then she was blamed for the one thing she had no control over. How could that Viktor bloke do that to her?

"And yes, that was the reason for my nightmare. I don't exactly remember what I dreamt, but the hospital, and the fear, and the guilt … it all triggered it," she continued. "Why didn't you and Astoria marry?"

He shrugged. "It wouldn't have felt right somehow. In the end we just didn't work out. There's nothing dramatic about it. We just fell out of love."

"That sounds like it was easy, but I bet it wasn't."

"It never is. We are still in contact, friends. But she's engaged to a Ravenclaw now." He shook his head. "Michael Corner, I think."

She frowned, trying to picture the together. "Oh, wow. I really need to read Witch Weekly more often. I had no idea."

He chuckled.

"So, after your break-up … Harry said, you were quite a womanizer," she carefully continued, avoiding his gaze.

"Oh, did he?" Draco grinned. "That wasn't exactly a question, but I'll answer you anyway. I'm not going to say he's wrong. Everyone processes a break-up differently."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but grinned back. "Now, we're even. Question number four. Shoot."

He pondered on that for a moment and then said, "Now that you know about my relationship, I always wondered why you and Weasley didn't end up together." He noticed that she had tensed up, probably expecting him to ask about Viktor, but that seemed to be dangerous terrain.

"That's kind of a long story as well," she sighed.

Now he was intrigued. Everyone, even the Slytherins, had expected them to marry and live happily ever after. When they – 'the perfect couple' – had broken up during their last year in Hogwarts, even he had wondered about it, although he had been absorbed by his own drama most of the time. "I'm all ears."

She put the toast down and folded her hands nervously. "After the war, I decided to come back to school to complete my NEWTs as you probably remember."

He nodded, although she didn't look up, keeping her gaze fixated on her folded fingers.

"Well, things between me and Ron got worse with every month that passed, me having so much to do with being Honorary Head Girl and all. I was very lonely if I'm honest. Harry and Ron were away, accepted into the auror programme, Lavender was still in the hospital, it was only Parvati, Luna, Ginny, Demelza, and me. Parvati was very close with her twin, Luna started dating Neville, Ginny had Harry, and Demelza … well. I hadn't had close contact with her before the war; we hadn't much to talk about. So I spent my Hogsmeade weekends mostly alone. Harry, of course, offered to let me join him and Ginny, but they'd enough to work out between the two of them. At first, I understood that Ron didn't visit, he was still absorbed in grief; meanwhile, he helped George in his free time with the stupid joke shop, and then he had to study for his exams. But I felt neglected. We'd had a great summer together – I mean great relationship wise, otherwise it was probably the worst summer in my life, with all the … funerals." She swallowed hard.

"He owled me every day at the beginning, but then it was only twice a week, and in December I was lucky if I received an answer at all. Harry wrote me of course, but … it's not the same. And suddenly I received an owl from Viktor. He asked me how I've been, he'd read a lot about me in the papers, but he wanted to hear my story. He also told me what had happened to him during the war and more than I wanted to know about Quidditch."

Draco couldn't help but chuckle, she ignored him, though.

"It was just nice. A pen friendship – nothing more. I stayed at the burrow over Christmas, my parents were still in Australia, and at first it was so nice to be surrounded by family. But Ron was distant, I could see that he was hurting – it was the first Christmas without Fred – but he wouldn't let me help him. Harry still had horrible nightmares and Ginny stayed with him, so I hoped that Ron'd move into my room, that he'd ease my nightmares from Bellatrix." She deliberately avoided his eyes. "He didn't. And then, on the 26th I got a letter and little gift from Viktor, a bit late, I know, but his owl got lost in a snow storm. He told me that he'd be in Britain from February onwards with his Quidditch team and that we could meet in Hogsmeade, if I'd like to. Ron completely freaked out. He reproached me for cheating on him and so on, therefore, I decided to break up with him. I didn't deserve to be treated like … well, it doesn't matter anymore." She had kept her voice carefully neutral, but now a slight shaking crept into her tone. "I left the burrow and moved with Harry into Grimmauld Place Number 12. I helped him redecorate, that took my mind off things. It was only a few days until school started. It was horrible to go back to Hogwarts, though … somehow the press had got wind of our breakup, and they gave me a really hard time." The words had bubbled out of her mouth, she hadn't seemed able to stop them, but now she pressed her lips together and stared out of the window.

"I'm sorry that Weasley was a bloody moron," he started, but then his voice trailed away into nothing. What could he possibly say?

"Doesn't matter now, does it?" she said blankly. "My turn."

He smiled at her encouragingly. Now she lifted her gaze, staring him square in the eye, and asked point-blank, "Did you really want me dead in second year?"

He stiffened. "How'd you know?"

"It's my turn. I'll answer later," she said briskly, watching him like a hawk.

He bit his lip insecurely. "Yes and no. I always bragged around with my dislike for muggle-borns, that's how I was brought up. But I really can't imagine that I wanted you dead for real. The thought makes me sick."

"Good," she said firmly.

"So, how did you know?"

She smiled deviously. "I made Polyjuice potion in second year, so we could figure out the truth about the Chamber of Secrets. I don't know if you remember that day, but Crabbe and Goyle behaved strangely. That was because they weren't Crabbe and Goyle. They were Harry and Ron."

He looked at her in surprise. "You're bloody brilliant. But why didn't you come?"

She blushed. "Little accident with the hair I collected. My turn."

"Fine," he grumbled although he definitely would have like to know more about the 'hair-accident'.

She bit her lip. "Do you think I'm …"

He narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"Pathetic," she choked out.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Why would I think that?"

She shrugged nonchalantly.

"Of course I don't! That thought never crossed my mind. If it's because of the nightmares, that doesn't make you pathetic. I actually think you're even stronger than in Hogwarts. Hurt yes, but strong."

She stared at him and he could see that she didn't buy it, although it was nothing but the truth. It gave him strange feelings – like cramps – in his chest, this look in her eyes.

"Why?" she asked muffled.

"Because … because you put your chin up and straighten your back if something scares you; because you have that look in your eyes and I know I shouldn't stand in your way; because I ... because I like you."

She narrowed her cinnamon eyes, x-raying him. "You mean that?"

"Why would I lie to you? By the way, that was your seventh question, my turn."

"That's not fair," she argued. "It was supposed to be my fifth."

The change of subject had worked. "But you asked me three questions." He held up his hands. "Fine, six then, satisfied?"

She smiled wanly. "Okay…"

He nodded and stared into his tea cup for a moment, gathering strength for his next question that could go horribly wrong. "Why did you push me away after your visit at the Manor and the night …?"

She frowned. This was obviously a question she had hoped he wouldn't ask. "Well, because I realised something."

His heart beat sharply against his ribs for fear what she would say. "Realised what?" She wasn't off the hook yet.

Abruptly, she stood up and went to the window. "I realised that I liked you."