A/N: Tada, holiday part two! I have to admit that I'm not really happy with this chapter. It sounds so stiff and my English is really awkward sometimes. But thanks to Cecelia Everhart who tried to fix my mistakes as best as she could :) And thank you all for your reviews!

I hope you'll still enjoy this capter :)

15. Revelations

After Hermione had returned from her 'walk', she seemed even more detached than before. It was clear as day that something was bothering her, but she had blocked all of Draco's attempts to talk about it. He couldn't help thinking that he had done something wrong. This trip was supposed to bring them closer together, but thus far it had only achieved the opposite.

He watched her silently at dinner. She was constantly avoiding his eyes, her fingers were clenched, and every now and then she would frown and bite her lip. She behaved as if he had somehow hurt her, as if his presence was unbearable to her. He couldn't take it any longer. The first day in Augsburg had seemed so perfect and now…

"I'm not hungry," he whispered, having not even half finished his plate. "Head aches."

"Oh." She looked up and frowned. "Do you need something?"

"No. I'll just sleep," he answered briefly. "See you at breakfast." Then he simply couldn't endure her coldness anymore, jumped up, and almost run to his room. He had been so foolish to think she would fall for him.

They spent the next day in Dresden, visiting the treasures of this city, like the opera and the Grünes Gewölbe[1]. They talked and even laughed, but to Draco it seemed forced, unreal. He was happy when the day was over and they travelled to their last location: Rügen[2].

The next morning greeted them with an azure blue sky and a slightly salty breeze. The day promised to be as hot as the last; therefore, Draco decided to laze about in the sun after they had visited some of the main attractions. Hermione, on the other hand, wanted to 'explore', but he knew it was just an excuse to get away from him. To her, his presence seemed more unbearable – up to revolting even – with every passing minute.

It hurt him, and she didn't even realise it. It hurt him like she would use an Unforgivable on him, so unthinking and so incredibly cold. He had never thought her capable of cruelty, but the way she flinched back from his touch or looked at him, a mask of firm indifference on her face – he couldn't describe it any other way than cruel.

He was so lost in his thoughts it took him a while to realise that she had been gone for an hour and had left him waiting. But what else could he do? There was no point in looking for her. She didn't want his company, so he waited …

… and waited …

… and waited until it was nearly time for their reservation at the restaurant.

Maybe she's already gone there, he thought and, grudgingly, walked to the pub. His last hope that Hermione would await him and jump up and smile at him like before burst like a bubble – she wasn't there. He didn't think she would miss their reservation on purpose.

Maybe she's just a little late, he tried to calm himself and ordered a cool German beer. It didn't work, however; his thoughts were still running wild. Maybe he should have left her a message? Maybe he should be looking for her? What if something had happened? What if she had taken another Portkey without him?

Another long hour passed with him staring either angrily at his beer or worriedly towards the beach. In the end, the worry won. Quickly, he paid and went back to the place they had separated. "Hermione!" he called, but nobody answered. The sun was already setting and people were leaving the beaches and returning to their homes. But Draco had no eyes for the beautiful sunset; his mind was consumed with fear and concern.

Clandestinely, he pulled his wand out and whispered, "Point me."

The direction it gave was very vague, so he followed a path along the beach, hoping to find her on the way. It looked like the path she had taken, but he couldn't be sure. Half an hour later or so, the night had become pitch-black; the sea seemed to be made out of liquid ink and the beaches of dark sand. He needed to lighten his wand to even find a way. It glowed like a firefly, guiding his way, but its light wasn't enough to see more than a metre of the path. He could easily miss her if she was sitting on one of the dunes.

"Hermione!" he called her again – for what he felt to be the hundredth time. And finally someone answered.

"Draco!" a voice below him cried out.

Hermione! It sounded like she was down on the beach, but he couldn't see her from above. The dunes were quite high. He needed more light! Instinctively, he checked his surroundings, but no muggle was near.

"Lumos solem!" he bellowed, and bright sunlight streamed from his wand. "Hermione!"

She really was curled up down in the sand. It looked like she had fallen down the steep coastal dune. "Are you hurt?" he yelled, carefully climbing down to her. The relief of having found her was replaced by fear and guilt. He should have been looking for her sooner! But no – he had wallowed in his self pity and had left her out here for hours, possibly badly hurt.

Her cheeks were streaked with tears, but she wiped them away furiously. "I've lost my bloody wand, and it was already dark, and I twisted my ankle," she explained in a hard voice, trying hard not to sob.

So she wasn't hurt badly, he concluded and watched her trying to regain her composure but failing miserably. Again, she seemed determined to not let him in, not let him see her vulnerable.

"Accio Hermione's wand," he said, and a thin object flew right into his hands. "Here. Thank Merlin, I was so worried."

"It was stupid. I'm sorry." She glanced at him and a sob broke out of her chest. "I'm such a failure! I can't even walk on my own without having an accident." She sobbed uncontrollably now, obviously furious with herself.

"No, Hermione. Stop saying that!" he hissed and kneeled down in front of her. "Which ankle? Let me help you."

"No!" she said fiercely and pushed him away. "E-e-episkey."

He doubted her sobbed spell had worked. "Hermione, I can do this."

"No, I can – I can h-handle that," she whimpered, suppressing her sobs.

In this moment, he simply had enough. He had enough of her pushing him away, trying to prove how independent she was, enough of her hurting him.

"Well, then. You find your way back alone," he said harshly and stood up.

"Draco!" she yelled after him, but he didn't care. He didn't turn back.

"In the name of Merlin, you can't leave me here."

He still didn't turn, even as he heard her groaning in pain. She probably tried to follow him.

"Darn it," she cursed. "Draco, please. I'm sorry I snapped at you. Please."

At once, he stopped in his tracks and turned around. She was limping over the sand to reach him, nearly falling down after every step.

"Will you let me help you?" he asked quietly.

She nodded. "Please. My ankle's killing me." She was very pale, and her tears still glimmered in the light of his wand. She looked so vulnerable he just couldn't leave her there.

"Okay," he agreed although he was still feeling angry and hurt. But she had apologised, and that seemed all it took for him to forgive her.

Groaning, she fell down on the sand, and he kneeled down next to her. When he reached for her ankle, she didn't flinch. "Episkey." In mere seconds, her ankle was as good as new.

"Thank you," she whispered, and her voice was sincere.

He nodded and flopped down next to her. "Will you tell me now what got your wand in a twist?" He cast a quick glance at her, but she stared out to the sea. Hesitantly, he added, "What did I do?"

Her head snapped around, her gaze scrutinising him. He hoped she hadn't heard the shaking in his voice. "You didn't do anything!" She closed her eyes for a second and said so lowly he almost didn't hear it, "It's me. I'm foolish and … and I'm sorry. I shouldn't've run off."

"You shouldn't have. But why did you?"

She was quiet for a very long time. "I'm freaking scared, okay?" she mumbled after half an eternity.

His heart stopped. "Of me?"

"No, you idiot. I didn't want to push you away, I didn't want to hurt you. I wasn't even aware that I did hurt you until just now. I'm selfish and scared, that's it." She pulled her knees close and wrapped her arms around them as if to protect herself.

"What's scaring you then?" he asked carefully. If it wasn't him, what else could it be?

She silently shook her head.

"How can I help you if you don't answer me?"

"I don't want your help," she snapped instantly. "Sorry. I …" She was breathing heavily as if uttering these words required an inhuman amount of strength. "Draco ... I'm a mess. I'm not relationship material. Just look for someone else and let us stay friends."

A light dawned on him. "That's scaring you, isn't it?"

"Draco …"

"I told you I wouldn't push you."

Finally, she turned to look at him. Her amber eyes were almost black in the darkness. "That's not what's scaring me. It's scaring me that I want to touch you, and be with you, and make you laugh, that it feels so real, so perfect, too good to be true. My feelings are scaring me, and I want to run from them," she revealed and inhaled sharply. "See! I didn't want to tell you, and then you look at me like that, and I feel so safe as if I could tell you everything."

"You can tell me everything," he protested hoarsely. That was the first time she had told him about her feelings, and it made his heart go crazy.

"Draco, I'll push you away over and over again. I'm going to hurt you, and then you'll hate me. I can't let that happen."

He smiled crookedly at her. He knew now how she felt, and he wouldn't let her find excuses. "Hush. I could never hate you. It's okay to be scared."

"But it simply won't work. It can't work," she said frantically, hugging herself more fiercely.

He swallowed, all happiness vanishing when he realised the truth. "I know. I'm not good enough for you, Hermione. But let me try, okay?" he nearly begged.

"Are you kidding me? I'm the broken goods here. If you'd know all –" Quickly, she interrupted herself. "I can't."

"You don't trust me, is that it?"

"No. No, Draco. I do trust you, but there are things I can't tell you. Please, I'm so scared. Stop doing this to me!" she pleaded.

Gently, he took her hand. "I can't. You have no idea how … what you do to me. I'm scared, too." She made him relaxed, made him lose control, made him forget all the things he learned about how a Malfoy should behave.

"People won't accept us. Your friends … my friends," she protested, but her voice was weak, dejected.

He wanted to say he didn't care, but he did. Her friends were important to her. Suddenly, he was scared she had really given up. She put her friends above all else, and if they rejected him for the mistakes he did in his past, for the Mark that was carved into his skin, she might too.

"If I could cut this …" He hesitated, unable to utter the condemning words, and finally settled on, "… thing from my skin, I would, believe me. It was all I've ever wanted, to be a Death Eater, and when I got what I thought I wanted I realised …" He swallowed hard. "I realised I didn't want it at all. It'll never go away. Don't think I haven't tried."

Her reaction wasn't at all what he had pictured. Instead of flinching away, she moved closer. "The Mark doesn't appal me. It's part of your past." She stretched out her left arm and pointed her wand at it, muttering, "Lumos." In the faint light of the wand, he could barely read the word carved into her skin. Mudblood. It made him shiver all over. "We all have our marks, Draco," she added almost softly.

"Why didn't you have it removed? There must be spells or potions…"

She nodded gently. "There are, but I refused. It belongs to me, Draco, just as this belongs to you." With her right hand she covered his left forearm, touching the Dark Mark deliberately. He inhaled sharply, but she didn't even bat an eyelid.

There it was again – skin on skin, gasoline on fire. Very slowly he turned his head, noticing every detail, from her dark, topaz eyes to her shadowy hair – almost as black as the night sky but with highlights of chestnut and bronze – to the deliciousness of her lips. Suddenly, it overcame him how badly he wanted to kiss her.

But he shouldn't. He really shouldn't. It was too early.

He needed all his willpower to look back to the sea. "Thanks," he whispered brokenly.

She put down her head on his shoulders. "Please, just stay with me even when I'm foolish, and mean, and scared, and push you away."

"I will," he promised thickly, meaning every word of it.

"And I promise the same," she breathed softly and leaned against him – not much, her skin barely touched his, but enough to make his skin tingle, to make him want to draw her even closer and erase all the negative space between them. But instead he just listened to the ocean that slowly breathed in and out, sounding like a softly snoring animal.

"I hope it won't always need a broken ankle for you to open up to me," he joked after a while.

She chuckled softly. "Do you forgive me, Draco?"

"Always," he muttered without thinking.

He felt her looking at him, but didn't turn his head or open his eyes. "We've missed our Portkey," she stated.

"We'll get a new one," he mumbled tiredly. The sleep deprivation from the night before, this day, and the worry had exhausted him.

"Fair enough." Suddenly, there was a cosy blanket wrapped around him. He peeked through his lashes and watched her placing protective spells around them. "Now we're safe."

He smiled fondly. "Thank you. No tent?"

"I knew I forgot something," she teased him and conjured another blanket and two pillows. Then she snuggled under the covers, lying really close. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around her.

"Good?" he asked sleepily.

"Mhm," she agreed and caressed his back of the hand with her fingertips. "Good night, Draco."

I really recomment visiting the places I listed should you ever be in Germany!

[1] The 'Green Vault' forms part of the Royal Palace of Dresden and is a museum full of jewellery and precious objects made out of gold, amber, ivory, gemstones, bronze etc. It was destroyed in WWII but has been restored since then.

[2] Germany's largest island, located in the Baltic Sea, famous for its chalk cliffs