"Enough," he whinged. "It's bedtime."

Hermione gave an exasperated sigh as she glanced up from her book for the nineteenth-time. Sometimes Draco could be so controlling it was infuriating. Shifting slightly on the couch she retorted, "I would've finished by now if you didn't keep whining and interrupting my reading rhythm!"

She ignored the childish pout he made.

"But it's late and I want cuddles."

She raised an eyebrow, knowing well enough that's not what he was after. "Cuddles?" she scoffed. The word sounded misplaced on his tongue. "You only really cuddle when you're unconscious."

Folding his arms behind his head he remarked almost to himself, "but I can't sleep without you."

"Right," she murmured under her breath, her eyes falling back to the page. "Sleep."

She started again only to realize halfway through the paragraph that she'd already read this page. Letting out a huff of irritation her fingers tightened on the book determined to finish this chapter. Midsentence she thought she heard someone calling her name. It was faint. She cocked her ear toward the door and waited but there was nothing. Hermione shook the sensation off. There wasn't anyone calling her name, it was the middle of the night and no one knew where they—

"HEY! Give that back!"

Draco held the book he'd just snatched from her hand and closed it with a pointed thump. "I said," he intoned. "It's time for bed."

Hermione folded her arms and glared up at him. His lips were in a thin line and she felt sometimes that he didn't understand normal human behavior. "You can't just make people do what you want them to, Draco. That's not how things work."

His eyebrows furrowed, looking a little taken aback. "I know," he said a little softer than she'd expected.

But for some reason, she couldn't shrug off his spoilt behavior as she usually did. Maybe it was because she blamed him for the guilt she'd felt when she'd lied to Ron earlier that day when he'd gone to look for her in the library and hadn't been able to find her. Caught out she'd made a feeble attempt to make it seem like he hadn't looked hard enough because of course, she'd been there. Probably just missed her is all. She was always there. Except when of course she was with Draco.

"I'm not having sex with you tonight if that's what you're after," she huffed feeling her cheeks heat over the word sex. Had she ever spoken that word before? Of course, they'd had sex but saying it out loud felt foreign.

Without a word, he vanished the book and went to sit on the bed. "You can be a real witch sometimes, y'know?"

"Where's my book—wait—what did you just call me?"

He shrugged, feigning innocence. "I called you a witch. It's what you are, isn't it?"

"It's how you said it, with that tone!"

Another shrug. But there was something dangerous swimming beneath the calm veneer, something worse than anger. She knew him well enough now to tell the difference and before she could begin to fathom what it was he gave her the answer.

"You spend more time with Weasley than you do with me."

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes. She knew Ron's recent attentions wouldn't go unnoticed but how was it her fault? "As I said, you can't tell people what to do. Ron's my friend—one of my best friends," she quickly corrected. "I can't exactly tell him to leave me alone. Besides, it's a nice change of pace from having us glare at each other—"

"So you still love him?"

The question was so sharp, so invasive she flinched.

A moment's hesitation and his voice grew louder. "You love him!" he yelled; no longer a question but a statement thrown to her.

Hermione caught it. "Of course I love him. I just finished saying how he's one of my best—"

"You want to be with him, not me." Draco's eyes were almost black and she thought it was a trick of the light because she blinked and they were gray again. His body was coiled tightly.

Hermione tutted at the ridiculousness of it all. "Don't be silly," she started but then he was rising off the bed and she felt herself become small as he stood up tall and stepped into her.

"You belong to me," he said softly, slowly, almost the same way you explain something to a child. "You belonged to me the moment we took each other's virginity. Even before that…"

Her cheeks blossomed, anger and embarrassment warring with each other. Another word they'd never uttered in each other's presence had been spoken. Virgin. Virginity. This whole conversation was making her squirm. "I don't—you can't—" she cleared her throat, her hands curling into tight fists. "We're dating. I don't belong to anyone."

Instead of arguing or becoming angry, he merely tilted his head to the side. "I wasn't going to bring it up but…" His eyes were dancing over her face. They landed on her lips. "You do."

She pursed them in silent rage, her brain working furiously. Condescending, pure-blooded, chauvinistic—

His hand reached up to brush her lower lip and despite all the witty remarks, the insults and counter-arguments she had running through her mind all she managed was a choked, "I don't." But she heard how hollow the words sounded and he must have as well.

A tired smile pulled at the corner of his lips and she realized he'd managed to pin her against the bedpost. She shoved him off lightly but he grabbed her and pulled her back against his chest so roughly she gasped. "Stop playing hard to get," he whispered, his warm breath tickling her ear. "I already have you."

"Stop saying that," she groaned as his arms encircled her waist. "I'm my own person, I am an independent witch, who… who…" The anger, the indignation, all of it was fading, dread curling in her gut as she felt the truth of it. She wasn't independent, she was completely dependent and she'd known for a while but denied it. That physical need to see him, speak to him, hold him, protect him, love him. It had taken her over and it was stronger than a spell.

He turned her around to face him, lifting her chin up to his face. "It's okay though because I belong to you too…"

"You do?" she tried asking, but it came out a rasp. Clearing her throat, she repeated the question and was surprised at how small and afraid her voice still sounded.

"I do… I feel it… I've felt it before. I've been screaming it, trying to tell you." She watched as his Adam's apple bobbed along his pale throat. "Couldn't you hear me?"

She reached up and wrapped her hands around his neck looking deeply into his eyes which had calmed into silver pools again. "I could hear you," she smiled with awe. "You tried telling me at the Three Broomsticks."

Draco's eyes widened, his cheeks turned a shade of pale pink and she could see the vulnerability there. "I thought you knew. I thought…" His eyes fluttered shut for a moment. "When did you realize?"

And Hermione could hear the fervor in his voice.

Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. "Pansy told me at Slughorn's party," she confessed. She waited with held breath for his reaction but he seemed entirely unsurprised so she continued, "I didn't believe it till New Years when we were lying next to each other… I could hear you then too."

A rare smile crossed his face. "For a Slytherin, I haven't been that subtle around you have I?"

She grinned, a warmth bubbling inside of her. "I think maybe you wanted me to know."

"I did," he said placing a kiss on the tip of her nose. "I mean I do. I want you to know."

She didn't know what to say in the face of all this. "So bedtime?"

Draco hummed a smile. "I wish every time could be bedtime."

Hermione's teeth caught her bottom lip as she was gently tugged toward the bed, an article of clothing being discarded, one after the other.

And then she was pulling away. No. Not her. The image. The room. Something was pulling her away from him, from their bed, their room, from that night.

Away. Far, far away...

Hermione jolted awake violently, blinking. The light was too bright.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

She stared wide-eyed around the room until every blurry line sharpened into focus. Until the bright light was dim candlelight and it was night. A circle of faces loomed over, surrounding her, their worried expressions doing nothing to calm her racing heart. "I… I was dreaming—what—where am I?"

"You're in the hospital wing," replied Lupin, looking grave. Hermione blinked, sweeping her gaze around at the others. Lupin, Tonks, Ron, Harry, Ginny, Madam Pomfrey, and Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley.

She curled her fingers and toes, touched her chest, her face. She felt fine so why was she here and why was…? As she pushed herself up to a sitting position, Mrs. Weasley scolded, "Oh for heaven's sake. Give her some air, all of you."

Like abashed school children, they scuttled away giving her a glimpse into the rest of the room. There wasn't a curtain around her bed. Neither was there a curtain around Luna or Neville's.

"Neville's alright," said Lupin. "He's just resting. Madam Pomfrey gave him a sleeping draught."

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what happened when it all came back to her. Not the memory she'd been reliving, but the present.

"Hermione," said Ron touching her shoulder. "Are you hurt? What happened?" She realized it had been him speaking when she'd first woken.

"I was with Luna," she said looking toward her friend who was still fast asleep. "We were outside Snape's office near the dungeons and Professor Flitwick came running down the hall shouting that there were Death Eater's in the castle. As soon as I heard that I began to leave but something—someone stunned me—us," she corrected as she realized Luna must have been hit with the spell as well.

Madam Pomfrey was looking at her curiously. "We tried to wake you but you wouldn't—"

"Could have been another Death Eater," Molly said in a whisper to her husband. Ginny was saying something underneath her breath to Pomfrey.

"Not even a reviving spell worked," said Lupin quietly, the same curiosity etched on his face as he stared at her.

"I was dreaming," said Hermione again unable to explain how close it felt to reality. She had heard someone calling and hadn't wanted to leave it—hadn't wanted to leave Draco. "I… How long have I been asleep?"

"Several hours," answered Madam Pomfrey. "We were getting worried. I've never come across a spell like this before. Hopefully, in time, Miss Lovegood will wake as you did."

Hermione studied the pale girl's serene face and wondered which beautiful memory she was reliving. The truth was that she hadn't wanted to wake up. Then a cold shiver ran down her spine. It felt like someone had drenched her with a bucket of ice water. Hours. She'd been asleep for hours. Her eyes found Harry's.

"What happened?" she asked and then before she could care that there were several other people in the room she demanded, "Where's Draco?"

Hermione felt the people around her shift. She thought she heard someone say, "Mr. Malfoy is no longer in the castle," but she could not tear her gaze away from Harry. He had been quiet all this while and one look into those green soulful eyes told her everything.

Then he said, "Dumbledore is dead," and Hermione felt the world turn on its axis.

She flung herself over the side of the bed and threw up onto the floor. There was a ringing in her ears and people's hands were upon her, helping. The sick was vanished immediately and she was given water, but Hermione was pushing them away, standing up. Harry was suddenly next to her and so was Ron, his hand on her elbow steading her.

"Don't, you're still drowsy from the spell," he warned. Except it wasn't the spell. She had felt fine the moment she woke. It was her, her body. It was reacting. Her body began shaking, her vision clouding over.

"Where is he?" she asked again weakly; terrified of the answer.

"Can you stop thinking about your Death Eater boyfriend for just one second!" snapped Ron. She shoved away from his hold.

"Boyfriend?" sputtered Tonks.

"I told you he was just using you!"

Ginny's lips were pursed, Madam Pomfrey's hand was clutching at her throat and Mrs. Weasley was muttering, poor dear, over and over again.

Hermione met everyone's eyes and looked carefully at these women who, she assumed, silently judged her. "I don't have time for this," she muttered. Turning to Harry, she again demanded to know where Draco was.

"He left with Snape. Snape cast the killing curse. It was him… it was him all along."

Ginny frowned. "He didn't exactly leave," she whispered. And it was spoken so softly it was as if she almost hadn't meant to be heard. Everyone's eyes had turned to her and she blinked in surprise. "I just mean… well, Snape was carrying him out. He was unconscious."

"Probably got hit by a spell," said Mr. Weasley with a tone of regret. "If only Lucius had—"

"You're lying," spat Hermione and Arthur seemed to flinch as if the comment had been directed at him but it was Harry she was still speaking to.

She shook her head, shook away what she knew to be false truths. "He wouldn't go with them… you're lying."

She watched him swallow and shift uneasily on his feet. "I told you all Snape was a traitor and Malfoy was a Death Eater. No one listened to me... He was there at the Astronomy Tower. He separated Dumbledore from his wand—"

"You're lying!" and it came out a hiss rivaling any other Slytherin's. "You're a liar Harry Potter!" With that pronouncement and a chorus of gasps at those who had never thought to see such a scene between the two friends, she stormed through the doors of the hospital wing. Footsteps followed her out.

"Where are you going?" shouted Harry, pacing after her.

"I'm going to find him! He needs me!"

"You can't," he said with an edge of panic in his voice. But Hermione was barely listening.

Harry yanked her arm. "You're right," he said quickly before she could put up a fight. "I lied. But we can't talk about it here."

Immediately she dragged Harry to the closest empty room and cast a silencing charm. "Tell me everything," she demanded.

Hermione listened with growing trepidation as Harry revealed what had happened and then some more when she asked specific questions. "I had to lie," he said finally, "I'm sorry, but I had to, Voldemort can never know Malfoy planned this, and if I tell the Order the truth they might think I was working with Malfoy or—I don't know—what if it gets back to Voldemort! Malfoy said to play the part, so—"

"I don't understand," interrupted Hermione who wasn't really listening to Harry anymore. "Why didn't Dumbledore just release you from the spell?"

She saw something in him break every time Dumbledore's name was spoken. "To protect me," said Harry softly. "I don't know—why else?"

She shook her head. "But from what you told me, you could have easily disarmed Draco, from underneath the cloak without even revealing yourself like you two had planned. Why would Dumbledore…?" Tears pricked her eyes, falling one by one, unable to finish the sentence. "He's dead," she wailed into her hand. "My God he's really dead!"

Harry's lips were trembling. "It was my fault," he whispered. "Maybe if I hadn't lost the coin or if Dumbledore had just..."

Another sob escaped her as Harry cradled his head in his hands.

"What have we done?" he anguished. "What have I done?"

"Harry, what happens if Voldemort looks into Draco's mind?"

God please, don't let him see me.

Hermione fell on Harry, wrapping her arms tightly around him feeling more alone now than ever. "Why would he do this, why couldn't he just trust me?" she cried because there was a part of her that felt a personal betrayal that he had trusted Harry and not her with his secrets.

She received no reply.

After a minute they let go. Harry reached up and wiped her cheek a little awkwardly. "Malfoy's smart, he'll figure something out," he said quietly. "If we try to help him Voldemort might suspect his betrayal, he could find out Draco destroyed a Horcrux. Anything we do to help him will only make things worse… for him and his mother. We can't risk that."

Despite her entire body screaming at her to do something. To bring him back here safely, she knew Harry was right. Draco was a brilliant Occlumens. She had always sensed how he sometimes disappeared and the sting of loneliness she'd suffer when he withdrew, but it wasn't until he'd confided the truth that things finally fell into place and then she'd felt like she'd known all along. She only worried because he'd said that lately, it was getting harder to put her back in her room, harder to turn the key.

She was the love of his life and a liability.

"Did anything good come out of this at all?" sniffed Hermione, speaking rhetorically. About her and Draco more than anything else.

Harry shrugged. "Finally proved Snape was lying. One Death Eater is dead and apparently the Aurors caught two others."

"And Bellatrix never came?" she asked softly even though she already knew the answer.

He shook his head. "No, she was supposed to but Greyback came instead."

She bit her lip, trying to figure out how to get in contact with him. Draco would be in grave danger if she risked using the bracelet to message him, more danger than he was already in. An owl was out of the question—

"Hermione," said Harry pulling her out of her thoughts. "You're not angry with me."

She gazed up at him. There were dark purple circles under Harry's eyes which made him look as if he hadn't slept in days. A surge of pity propelled her to him, taking his hand in hers.

"Oh Harry," she sighed softly. "Don't you see? Haven't you realized by now? Draco tricked you. He seduced you. I just never thought you'd ever be as arrogant as him to think you could pull something like this off by yourselves. For two people who've never liked each other, you've never been more similar in my eyes."

With that, Hermione left Harry and closed the door behind her.

There was nothing she could do for Draco but she could be there for Luna when she woke up. Maybe she had seen the person who stunned them or knew the spell they had used. Whoever it was, they'd pay dearly for what they'd done. Her fingers traced the fine gold chain on her wrist. If she'd been able to get to the Astronomy Tower or to help the other Aurors, Draco might still be here with her, safe and sound in her arms.

The hospital wing was filled with quiet chatter that died as soon as she entered. It reminded her of the days after she'd been cursed by Harry. The noise and then the hush which seemed to follow her whenever she entered a room. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had left. Lupin too. She let the door close with a thump and walked over to sit by Luna's bed without glancing in Ron's direction although she could feel his eyes watching her.

They'll soon understand. Voldemort, Snape, Greyback, all those Death Eaters. They had no right. He belonged to her and they couldn't just snatch him away in the dead of night.

Her nails left crescent-shaped marks on the soft skin of her palm. Dumbledore was dead… but Draco would live.

And if he didn't… she'd kill them.

She'd kill every single last one.

A/N: The chapter is named after the spell which was used on Hermione and Luna. Loosely translates as Sweet Dreams. Sorry for taking so long to update. Life is getting in the way xo