chapter some.html He oh-so-carefully lay me in the hospital bed, pulling the blanket up past my shoulders, and fluffing my pillow. His hand brushed
against my lips, tracing down my neck, but stopping in the empty hollows of my collar bones. He drew his hand back sharply as
Madame Pomfrey's clicky clackiddy footsteps made their way into the room.
"The flu, I think," he muttered.
"Just let her sleep. You have five more minutes," she said. I could hear her walk out of the room. I breathed softly, pretending to be
asleep. His hand found its way back, resting in the valley of my chest. I shivered slightly, and wished desperately that he would leave.
"Why can't you love me?" he mumbled. I opened my eyes slowly, and sat up in my bed. His hand slid down my body, falling into the
the starved hollow between my rib bones and belly button. He began to pull it away, but my fingers caught hold of his thumb. I traced
over his palm, every now and then getting lost in shallow paths, making their way across his skin. He didn't say anything.
"Your five minutes is up!" Madame Pomfrey's voice drifted into the room.
"Please, just five more," Ron called back pleadingly.
"She needs her rest!" the stout, plump nurse made her way into the room, a mask of deadly determination spreading across her
face.
"Please, Madame Pomfrey, just five more minutes. Just five more," I whispered. She looked at me for a few seconds, nodded, then
left the room. I sighed, almost silently. I looked up at him, startled by how beautiful he was. A rosy blush spread across his cheeks,
making his freckles flicker on and off. And his gorgeous red hair splayed out across his fore head. . . I sighed again, looking down.

***
I sat in the Slytherin common room, tapping my quill against the glass table top and thinking. This whole room was so suffocating. I
needed to get out and see her again. I could bet anyone that she was in the hospital wing, reclining on a soft white bed, peacefully
slumbering. Forgetting. About last night. I stood up and left.

***
"Y'know, Hermione," Ron began, taking a deep breath, his face reddening even further, "sometimes. . . sometimes I look at you."
"Oh," I said, my head clouding over with confusion, "Sometimes, I look at you, too."
"No. . . I mean, I really LOOK at you. I notice. . ." he was being very daring, "I notice everything. Like, what you wear everyday. I've
memorized it."
"Ron, I wear my school uniform every day," I giggled.
"Please!" he cried, "don't make this harder for me!"
"I'm sorry," I said, almost inaudibly, "I know what you're going to--"
"Hush!" he begged, stopping my mouth with his. A kiss. . . in other words.

***
"Hush!" Ron said. Wait a minute. . . what had I walked in on. . . ? Something twisted and crazy. Something that should definitely not be
happening. A certain red-headed weasel bent over, kissing a brown haired angel. Passionatley kissing, actually, a brown haired angel,
his hands traveling up and down that angel's crumbling body, exporing the cages made by bones grazing beneath skin.
"Get off of her, you sick bastard!" I yelled, running up to him, and prying his body off hers. He fell to the ground, a mass of bones,
muscle, and sinew making a gentle thud.
"I'm gonna beat the shit outta you," I yelled, towering over him.
"Go screw yourself, you dumbass," he hissed back, getting up, matching my height. He was about to throw a punch, but was
interrupted by her voice.
"You guys shut up and stop it," she said, her voice almost reaching a yell.
"Why the hell did you let him kiss you?" my eyes narrowed with hate as I looked her direction.

***
"Why the hell did you let him kiss you?" he barked.
"What's so wrong about kissing her? She's not spoken for or whatever," Ron said, the last "whatever" making his sentance sound
incredibly stupid.
"What the hell do you mean, 'she's not spoken for'? I almost took her fucking virginty last night!" Draco exploded.
"You wish, man," Ron answered. He looked over to me, his eyes searching again.
"He didn't, Hermione, did he?" his voice trembled.
"Well, I, ugh, actually--" I began.
"Did he??" he repeated, this time more intensley. My head spun, and I wasn't quite sure why Madame Pomfrey wasn't hearing any of
this. Why wasn't she coming in here and breaking all of this up?? I wanted to scream.
"Talk, god dammit!" Ron yelled.
"Shut UP! Don't tell me to fucking talk! I'll talk when I want to!" I got up, suddenly surprised by my own harsh language. I didn't even
know that I knew any of those words.
"I'm. . . I'm sorry," Ron said. He crawled over to me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing me up to him, softly whispering
slurred apologies over and over in my ear.
"Don't just let him hold you like that! You're mine!" Draco's eyes became cold and brutal. He waited for a few minutes, but when I
didn't make any indication for Ron to go away, he walked up to me, and slapped me hard on the cheek. I was sure that his hand was
imprinited there, red and glaring. Tears jumped to my eyes.
"Draco. . . Draco, please. Please," I whispered, pushed away from Ron, and made my way into Draco's arms, his head falling over mine, white blonde hair mingling with honey brown.