Author's Note: I would like to tell everyone that I am still not sure what the pairing will be. Yet, I know how Hermione is. Kindred spirit or not...

Chapter 16

The punishment room came into view from the blurry smudge it had been before. The desk in the center of the room proved to be an obstacle again and they were both hurled out onto it. The hologram image in the background wavered and then grew still. Hermione pulled apart from Draco, her hair a scraggly mess.

" What... what do you think you're doing?" She asked, finally.

" I - -" He began, then stopped.

" What is it?" She looked behind her, to the place his eyes had quickly averted.

The door was wide open and Professor McGonagall stood in the center of the room, holding a platter of food in her arms. Her mouth fell open and the platter of food fell to the floor. A sugar bowl cracked in two and one half rolled towards Hermione's feet, trailing sugar. She made a motion to pick it up but Professor McGonagall said, roughly: "Don 't bother."

" We..." Draco began, then lifted his hand, ready to show his wand and blame himself if he had to, saying that he charmed the window. Suddenly, he realized he didn't have his wand. He completely forgot about retrieving it from the room. His cheeks flushed and he looked down again, still on his knees beside the desk.

" I can see that something quite against regulations of your punishment has been happening here. Perhaps beyond the boundaries which I set." Professor McGonagall frowned deeper, long creases appearing across her forehead. "Come with me, please."

Hermione glanced at Draco and tucked her hair behind her ears. Her mind was still whirling over what he had just done. Did he truly kiss her or was it all just her imagination? Maybe he simply bumped heads with her... she tried to reason with herself about it. She was more shocked then pleased about it. What would Harry say?

*

Minerva McGonagall flailed open the doors to the dining hall. Faces of students that Hermione hadn't seen in days flashed before her eyes. Everyone grew deathly silent and still. Dumbledore rose from his seat at the head of the room and then exclaimed: " Minerva, what seems to be the problem?"

Professor McGonagall's face was red and angry, despite how much she tried to hold her disappointment back. " The punishment we have set for our two quarrelsome students seemed a trifle to them, for they sought more excitement. They've put some sort of charm on the room, and have been escaping it."

" No, Professor, it isn't like that!" Hermione cried out.

" Hush!" McGonagall hissed, exasperated. " I tried to make things fair for you, I even accepted the fact you might not be ready to dine together. Yet, you deliberately turned your back on my rules. I thought we had an agreement that..."

" What wonderful wizardry!" Dumbledore's voice broke through the silence in the room. The Slytherin table buzzed slightly and then a cheer rose: "Go Draco!"

Draco's body tensed and he smiled mischievously. If he had his wand, he could have put up some distraction, perhaps a little fireworks display over his head for laughs. Instead, he drawled coldly: " Won't you just listen to her?" He motioned at Hermione.

McGonagall spun around to face him.

Dumbledore continued: " To be able to escape a room so sealed and charmed like that one is a task worthy of the powers of even the greatest of wizards. I'm not sure if you, yourself, Minerva, would have managed the fancy spell-work that these students have accomplished, together. And you can tell they worked together - doesn't that show that they put their disagreements behind them?"

Minerva's eyes softened. " Is this true?" She demanded of Hermione.

Hermione nodded curtly. " We did work together on this, but we weren't the ones who charmed the room."

Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes. " Who, then, child? Why, nobody's been in that room for seventeen years, and..." Something changed in her face, as if a shadowy veil had fallen over it.

" James and Lily Potter charmed the room before we came in there. They made a Memory Capsule out of the adjoining classroom." Hermione spoke clearly. " I don't see why I am the only one being interrogated. Won't you take Draco's word as the truth?"

Minerva was taken aback. " Well, Mr. Malfoy, then, please add to Hermione's words."

Draco nodded. Then, he began to explain everything, from the beginning.

*

Hermione sighed and then left the dining hall, feeling that she had done all that could be done. Her tired eyes closed and she leaned against the hallway wall, her body shivering slightly. She was tired and her stomach ached in hunger. Her eyes opened to glance around the hallway. She was sure she was alone. With an exasperated groan, she slid down the wall with her back pressed to it and sat with her knees curled up towards her chest, her chin balanced on her knees. Her mouth quivered and she felt a tear break from her eye and slowly drop into the crevice in the corner of her mouth. The salty taste was a break to reality for her and she wiped the tear away. She felt accursed because she had the affection of two men at once, both complete opposites.

There truly was little alike in either of them, which made it so hard to choose. Together they would have formed the perfect man, but apart they were two extremes, and she was realizing that with each waking hour, she was growing more and more torn between them. Just as the relationship wit h Harry took years to develop, the relationship with Draco took a few intense days. Just as how Harry rushed nothing and remained a gentleman, always a shoulder to cry on, Draco was passionate and impulsive, acting upon his whim and instinct. Her stomach churned painfully and she mouthed the words to herself: " What do I do?"

Her eyes snapped open for she felt a presence just then, and the first thing she saw was a tall figure towering over her. She fixed her eyes upon the face - a face that looked as if it had died a thousand times since that morning. The two green eyes that once blazed with a merry glow now had a dulled, barely-sheen sparkle to them, and the coal-black hair that gently framed the healthily-tanned face was tousled and disarranged even more then it naturally was, barely parting to reveal the jagged scar across the forehead.

" You choose him, then, don't you?" He asked, softly. Not a single thread of malice or fury tinged his voice. Instead, it was a voice drained of emotion.

Hermione shook her head furiously. " I don't choose him." Her voice cracked. " I didn't choose anyone, Harry."

" It sure seems like you did." He leaned on the wall beside her, his eyes staring vacantly at the sign across from them - 'Quidditch Match Tonight - Hufflepuff vs. Slytherin'. He searched for an answer between the poorly-painted letters.

" Harry..." She began, desperately.

She stopped, for he made a curt waving motion with his hand, as if to dismiss her words. " Why, Hermione? Why him? I'd understand if you'd have taken Ron, or Seamus, or even Neville - - but him!"

" Harry, listen to me!" She said, sharply. He stopped speaking and listened. " Draco didn't ask to be in a relationship with me in any way. He just acted impulsively, the way he always does, the way he always dances around things in life. You know me - do you honestly think I'd just accept his kiss? You and I both mutually agreed to kiss, a few days ago, but he just did it. He didn't care how I'd react."

" Would that make you like it more, though?" He asked, bluntly.

She shook her head. " I don't know... you are both complete opposites, Harry. It's really hard to choose because I like a different thing in each of you. You share so little..."

" I just want the truth. I don't want to be led on anymore, alright?" His eyes flashed painfully as he faced Hermione. " It's really your choice and I can't hold you down. I just want a yes or a no answer. Me or him sort of answer."

Hermione sighed. She felt the familiar burning, squeezing pain in her stomach. She thought hard. She would feel horrible if she just simply dropped Draco like a hot potato. Then again, it wasn't fair to Harry at all to choose someone out of pity, someone whom she only truly knew for a few days, someone that was taught his entire life to hate 'Mudbloods', someone that had wavering shadow withy connections to the Dark Lord. Harry, meanwhile, was the opposite force, as always - strong protector against Voldemort, a brave light cast over Hermione, someone she knew so long they could finish each other's sentences.

She dropped her head down and whispered: " Harry, I don't know what to do. I... I know I like you more. I can feel it inside of me, but that's because I knew you much longer. We're best friends. Sometimes friendship and love is blended... and I do love you... I just don't know in which way." Her lower lip trembled. " We're way too young to decide these things. I just need time. About half a year ago, I didn't even worry about any of this."

Harry nodded. He reached out and took her hand, briefly, to feel the familiar warmth. Her hand was cold, though. He sighed and dropped it. Harry admitted to her: "I guess you're right. It's too early to decide these things. It just frustrated me so much... I don't know if you'd understand. I just... I hated HIM for so long."

Hermione was trembling. " I'm sorry." She whispered. " I just... I can't decide. I don't even know what love is anymore."

Harry reached out and hugged her. His arms held her tightly, and then released her. He looked into her eyes and smiled. " How about the Yule Ball? Any plans on a date?" His hopeful eyes shimmered in the faint streams of light that wafted into the room from the tall, glass windows.

She shook her head. " I think it'd be best if I don't go. It would save me the worry."

He nodded in understanding. Harry seemed to reflect a while before asking: "Why didn't you tell me about the... the memory room?" He looked upset. " Did you just want it to be a secret between you and Draco?"

Hermione's blush intensified so that it infused the natural tan pigments in her skin, making her skin radiate. Harry felt his heart shudder. He couldn't imagine his worst enemy feeling the same way for her - Draco probably barely even knew her. Why did the rouge always win favor over the gentleman? " No, it wasn't supposed to be a secret." Hermione replied, honestly. " I haven't had the chance to tell you. In the past few days, everyone stopped visiting me - not you, not Ron, and not Ginny."

" Snape wouldn't let us stop by on the way to class. He had us take the other hallway - the one that's so dark." Harry grimaced. "And it smells like mold, too."

Hermione laughed.

" Tell me more about it." Harry pleaded. " I want to know about my parents - how were they? What was my mother like?"

A pain filled Hermione's stomach again, and she asked him: " Are you sure you want to know?"

" My mom and dad - - they - - they..." Momentarily, he couldn't continue. Then, he simply said: " ... They probably wanted whoever kept their memories to share them with the world."

Hermione nodded. " Lucius wanted James dead. I think he was the one who somehow led everyone else by invisible strings behind the ... the... that night." She couldn't tell him straight out - the night his parents died to save him.

" Why?" He asked

" Lucius loved your mother - in a way that he despised your father for it." Hermione said, simply.

Harry frowned.

Hermione shook her head. " I - - It feels like the same thing is happening. You are James, I am Lily, and Draco is Lucius. And we're just little pawns in a reenactment of a horrible play, one that will never end."

Harry's astonished face showed truly how he felt about the news - both frightened and slightly confused.

" It's best to learn from the past to avoid what will happen in the future." Hermione quoted. " There's some more book knowledge for you." Her hand reached out and she held his willingly this time. " I think that it's best not to just grab life by the horns, but to wait to see what comes."

*

It was cold and dark in the Slytherin common room. Perhaps it was the overflow of the use of green and silver to decorate the drab surroundings, or perhaps it was because the common room was indeed sunk into the darkest, most slimy and cold pits of Hogwarts. Whatever the attempted mood and atmosphere was meant to be was now simply a dull, faded depression. Huddled in a patchwork quilt with the Slytherin coat-of-arms stitched into it, Draco pressed his forehead against the window of the room. He was sitting in the little cove created by the window, for it faced out slightly, making it half a octagon in shape, and the base of it was a soft fuzzy carpet - gray in color, which made up in drabness for the soft warmth of its texture.

Draco's fingers curled and tugged upwards on the rug, then released it. It hit the hardwood base beneath it with a hollow thwap. Outside, snow sprinkled - rather early in the fall. England was a land of precipitation, and if it wasn't raining or snowing, something else was blocking out the sun - like a flock of seagulls. His bitter smile reflected in the window.

How amusing, this sudden twist of events in his life. His punishment was so handily cancelled because he was caught with HER, escaping the clutch of the Potter's memory. It was almost unbearable - he was locked in a room with his enemy's girlfriend, forced to watch his enemy's parent's memories, and then to watch them die as his father watched enviously at the shadow of his enemy's mother. It was simply so ironical that he could only laugh. Of course SHE would choose her knight, whom spent his years trailing behind her, always best friends.

The great Boy Who Lived, the one that people would always marvel at.

His eyes flashed painfully as he felt a sudden wave of humility cross him. It was too much - to be bested by Harry once again, as it always was. Harry was too good to accept Draco's friendship, though he offered it a few times near the beginning of first year. Then he wondered why Draco, his Malfoy pride hurt, would tease and torture Harry for the next four years. Now it was fifth year, and Draco was tired. Though he had pulled a few pranks on the Gryffindor three - Ron, Harry, and Hermione - he no longer felt so enthusiastic about it.

It was a joke gone stale, an egg blown up in his face. Perhaps it was the fact that the whole reason for the fight was because Harry refused his friendship - and obviously, Draco's taunts would not make Harry want a friendship again.

Draco sighed. When something changed in his life, it would change always and forever, a mark that burned in his skin like the Dark Mark in his upper arm - a trace of his father's wrath over him. Draco lowered the shoulder of his robe and then parted aside the collar of his shirt to glimpse the faded dark burn in his arm. It still stung with a familiarity of the day his father introduced him to certain aspects of the Malfoy family's life. Touching the mark on his arm, he wondered if perhaps his life was planned at birth for him already, and whether he was foolish to try and change things.

Was the punishment truly effective enough?

No. Looking around the Slytherin common room, and through the window across the stretch of the common grounds, he saw through the next window Harry and Hermione hugging in the hallway. Fair enough. His thoughts woke up an anger inside of him that he had never known before.

This room is my true punishment.

I hate him.

*

Author's note: Almost the ending...