A/N: Chocolate cookies to my beta Cecelia Everhart for correcting this chapter. Last chapter it was Hermione's past, this one we'll see a bit more of Draco.

"I realised that I liked you."

11. Truth

Hermione didn't turn while she said it and waited nervously for his reaction, not daring to turn around.

"I don't understand," he muttered finally.

Slowly, she looked back to him. He appeared more happy than shocked. "I didn't want to like you, I didn't want to let you in. I was scared you'd hurt me, like I've been hurt before. I wanted to protect myself from an irrational decision made out of loneliness and need. Pathetic, you see?" she explained, carefully avoiding his stormy eyes.

Slowly, he got up and approached her. She was already standing against the window, so there was no way to evade him. "That's not pathetic. My relationships haven't been as hurtful as yours have been. But at that time I simply didn't understand. I thought … I thought you detested me, you really considered me the same person I was in Hogwarts."

She shook her head. "I didn't."

Before she could say anything, he stood right in front of her. "When you said you liked me… what did you mean?"

Nervous butterflies flattered around in her stomach. "Actually, it's my turn."

"Please," he pleaded, eyes like melted silver.

"Don't make me do this," she whispered, putting her hands on his chest as if to push him away; she didn't, though.

"Then, I'll go first," he said with a trembling voice. Heat was radiating of him like he was his own sun. "I really like you. More than in a friendship kind of way. You don't know how it makes me feel … you touching me. It's so simple, but it feels like someone put gasoline inside me and lighted it."

She felt a bit overwhelmed by his confession, but didn't pull her hands away. "Draco, I …" she breathed. "I can't. It's too fast. I'm not ready."

"It's fine, Hermione," he answered softly. "I don't want to rush this." He gingerly placed his hands over hers, and she felt his touch go right through her, making the butterflies in her stomach go wild with pleasure. It eased the pain and the loneliness in a way the kiss with that guy last night couldn't. She felt that she was slowly falling for him, but they had just made up last night, so this was way too fast for her. Besides, she couldn't really believe that he liked her, that he'd fall for her. But he didn't move, didn't push her away. They just stood there for half an eternity, giving comfort to each other.

Finally, she stepped back and looked up into his eyes, which appeared very dark now, less silver more like smoky quartz.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

She nodded silently, not trusting her voice yet.

"Thank you, Hermione."

She tilted her head. "For what?"

"For trusting me," he smiled.

"You're welcome," she answered and marveled at the look on his face, like the sun had come up suddenly and he was admiring it. "It's my turn now."

"Maybe we should take a break," he suggested.

"No. It feels right." She felt so connected, so close right now, she didn't want to lose that.

"Then ask," he agreed and they sat back down at the table.

She took a deep breath. "How did you feel after the war?" She felt secure enough now to ask him very personal questions.

"The war." He swallowed hard. "I was so young, we were all too young when we got involved and, to be honest, it … it crushed me. Everything I thought was right proved to be very, very wrong. My world view changed, so, of course, it devastated me. That alone was a lot to handle. But … I've seen and felt more terrible things than I've ever wanted to." He looked very vulnerable for a moment and she was happy that he'd let her see it. At the same time she felt so much compassion and sympathy for him, but he wasn't finished yet.

"You know my father was sentenced for his crimes, like my mother, with a fine and regular meetings with a ministry official, where they had to disclose their whereabouts and everything the ministry wanted to know. I, on the other hand, received what the ministry considered a mild sentence, but only because Potter, Weasel, and you vouched for me." His gaze connected with her eyes for as second but then returned to his hands.

"That had surprised me to no end, as you can imagine. I hadn't helped you in any way. You should've been pleading for Azkaban." She could hear his self-hatred with every word he uttered, his fists clenching and unclenching. "I had to help rebuild Hogwarts in the summer and pass my NEWTs with excellent marks, which I managed successfully. Besides, I had to attend Muggle studies." Suddenly he looked very sick and she was not sure why. "I know you used to attend it, so you remember Professor Burbage," he added with a heavily shaking voice.

"I do," she answered, although he hadn't expected her to.

"I had to watch her … die."His face was ashen, and she understood that this memory must be extremely painful to him. Slowly, she touched his back of the hand with her fingertips. He took a deep breath and nodded thankfully.

"You'll understand that it wasn't too pleasant for me. Hogwarts, in general, didn't go so well; not many of my former friends returned, and I'd been equally lonely as you. Actually most of the students tried to bully me or other Slytherins … but you and the other Heads quickly put an end to it. Still, I'd had hideous nightmares, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't be alone in a room because then the loneliness would devour me, I couldn't stand the dark anymore because monsters were hiding in the shadows…" His voice trailed away.

"I'm so sorry, Draco," she whispered barely audible. She'd had no idea. Although she had fulfilled her duties as Head Girl and protected students, especially Slytherins, from vengeance and bullying, she had never, not for even second, thought about how it had been for Draco.

"Don't be." His hands tightened around hers. "You did help me then, even though I didn't deserve it. I had all that coming and you know that."

"But…"

He interrupted her, "But somehow I managed my eighth year and got accepted into the Department of Intoxicating Substances. And that brought me here. I should be happy."

She could relate to his self-hatred although she didn't share it. The look on his face was so dark. "Don't think about it. I'll protect you from the monsters in the shadows," she breathed.

He smiled weakly. "I know. Most of them are gone. At least Wonder Boy killed the worst of them all. You need to tell me about that year sometime, but … I want to use my next question for something else."

She nodded expectantly, focusing back on the original objective of their conversation. But somehow the image of a seventeen-year old, sickly pale boy pushed itself back into her mind.

"Why did you kiss that muggle yesterday?" he changed the topic unexpectedly and the image vanished.

All of a sudden, she felt a bit panicked. "I've told you before – I was feeling lonely. Everyone around me was hugging, and kissing, and so fulfilled in their relationships. Something I've never had. I wanted the …" She hesitated a moment. "…the pain to go away. I tried drinking, but then you showed up with your perceptiveness, and I had to get some distance. I didn't want you to see how deep my inner abyss is. Well, I grabbed that boy in the hope to feel sparks, passion, something – anything else than pain." Her voice broke. She realised that she had never before let somebody in like this. Yes, Harry knew almost everything, but … not about this. She had expected to fall into pieces again as soon as the dark thoughts invaded her mind, but she didn't. Maybe that warm, strong hand in hers kept her from falling apart. "I saw your face back then. I wonder … what were you thinking?"

His face gave away nothing at all. "Is this you official eighth question?" he asked without inflection.

She shrugged. "Why not."

"I …" He stopped to collect his thoughts. "I was awfully jealous. I wanted to rip you both apart and punch that other bloke for touching you, but I didn't. Maybe I should've. You didn't look too happy."

"You were jealous because of that random guy?" she asked surprised.

He shrugged nonchalantly, staring at his hands again. "Sorry. It's stupid. But you asked me, and I told you the truth."

"Thanks," she answered thoughtfully. So, he might be the jealous type, like … both of her exes. She shuddered.

He seemed to guess where her thoughts had wandered and explained, "No need to worry about it, Hermione. I can control myself."

She bet he could. He was always controlled, except with her. Sometimes she could see his emotions displaying on his face and not just the mask he wore for the rest of the world. "I wasn't worried," she lied. "Your turn."

"I think …" he started and stood up, offering her his hand. "… I'm going to save my two questions, and we'll have some fun instead. What do you think?"

"What exactly do you have in mind?" she asked, taking his hand automatically.

He tilted his head. "We can do some sightseeing, a museum, or a park, or a city, whatever you want. Being a wizard has to be good for something," he smiled. "Think about it. I'll be back in a few minutes. I desperately need a shower and another of those hangover potions."

"Me too," she nodded.

"Good." He lifted their still connected hands and gently kissed hers, like an old-fashioned gentleman. Instantly she blushed. "I'll be back, Hermione." With that, he stepped into her fireplace and flooed away before she could free herself from this state of wonder and shock. Quickly, she cleaned up the table and jumped into the shower herself.

He was going to come back, wasn't he? Maybe she should check on Ginny and Harry in the meantime? She should really get herself an owl, though Crookshanks was not helpful in that matter. Incoherent thoughts like that rushed through her mind, while she tried to reflect on her morning. She would never have guessed that she would end up having a date with Draco Malfoy. It was a date, wasn't it?

Moreover, she had learned so many new things about him and about herself that it nearly overwhelmed her. It was good that he had left because, if he would see her right now, he would cancel their date. She found herself shaking uncontrollably with panic, curled up beneath the shower.

Draco bloody Malfoy said he liked her. And she kind of liked him back. Oh my god, what had she got herself into? She should really cancel that date. She didn't date. It wouldn't end well. It couldn't. She was such a mess, and he'd realise that the second he came back – how could he not? – and then he'd leave her standing there like a bag of rubbish…

However, the warm water helped her to collect her thoughts and to calm down. It still took her a few minutes until she was able to venture out of the comforting shower. Hurriedly, she slipped into her favourite summer dress – cornflower blue with white spots – and applied some discreet make-up. He could show up every minute. Nervously, she glanced at her watch. Where could they go?

She pondered over that for a minute and decided it was time to show him more about her past.

Where could they be going? Do you want a tip?

The sunlight that streamed through the trees painted golden patterns on the symphony of blue, white, and lilac flowers, which covered the ground as far as Draco could see. It was truly beautiful.

Any guesses?

Anyway, I wanted to thank everyone who reviewed! Keep it up, guys.