Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters etc belong to JKR!!!

AN: Once again I took my time in posting this chapter…sorry!!!

Anyways here's the next chapter!

~:Mixed Feelings:~

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Chapter 16 – Lonely

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Harry had been running for what seemed like hours to him. His face was pale and covered in beads of sweat seeping through his skin. The only colour left on his beaten face were those shining through his eyes. The emerald green eyes that belonged to his mother.

He stopped dead in his tracks almost too abruptly. He had no idea where he was running to. He just wanted to escape. His mind carried him to the place that it thought was most secured in all of Hogwarts, and soon his legs followed.

The Quidditch Field… His mind raced, and nothing more. Before long he had arrived at his destination. The Field. The huge, empty field. Not a soul in sight. No one sat in the high rows of seats. For why would they?

It was pouring down with rain. The clouds above gray and sullen. Thunder crashing here and there. At the Pitch, Harry felt that he could do anything and no one would give a damn. He ran towards the center of the field, the strong, gusty wind ruffling his hair.

He stood in the center, his shoes covered in mud. Harry has never felt this strongly about someone, about anyone. He felt lonesome. What's more, he felt ruined, felt as if the whole world has gone against him. What has he done to deserve all this? He's done nothing wrong...has he? All this hatred that filled inside him made the blood rush towards his cheeks. Harry looked flushed.

He looked up towards the angry Heavens above and let his eyes drop to a close. His face now covered with the harsh rain splashing intensely against his glasses. His knees collapsed underneath him, soaking his jeans in mud. He knew he shouldn't feel this way. But he could not control it. Harry felt miserable, felt weak, felt stupid…but he also felt free.

***

Hermione edged closer to the Draco she had spent time with just moments ago. The other figure scared her. It was Draco too. Draco Malfoy. There was two of them. What was she to do? They looked exactly like each other.

The figure who looked like Draco spoke,

"Hermione, what the hell are you doing with him?" He question, shooting daggers with his eyes towards the other Draco that Hermione was standing next to.

Hermione released herself from Draco and stood between the two boys. She was looking from one to the other. She was confused to say the least.

"Someone; one of you!" she ordered, pointing an index finger from one Draco to the other, "Explain to me! NOW! What the heck is going on here?!" She screamed, then raised her hands in bewilderment.

One of the Dracos, the one on her left, wore a black robe over his Slytherin shirt. The other, on her right side had on the gray sweater over the shirt. His shirt was not tucked in.  The Draco she spent time with just moments ago was the one wearing the robe.

"Hermione, listen to me," The Draco who wore the jumper began, " C'mon! It's me, how the hell can you think that that's me?!" He demanded, pointing a shaky finger towards his replica. 

"No, Hermione!" The other said, "It's me! How can you not recognize me! We just spent minutes together," he informed, sneaking a glance at the other individual. His face was half filed with shock, the other half, with repulsive anger – shooting more poisonous daggers with his blue-gray eyes, "Hermione, I'm not the imposter! He is! You know he is!"

Hermione looked at him, then to the other "him"… it's true… She couldn't tell the difference between them.

"This is so pointless!," She protested, "What is this all about?!"

"I know," The Draco who wore the jumper began, "Use that necklace I gave you then!"

"How – wait…what?" Hermione asked, rather dumbfounded. She was getting the hint that this was the real Draco, "Well, ok then!"

She pulled the beautiful necklace out of the crooks of her jumper, and drew it over her head.

"You mean this right?" She asked the Draco that was in the jumper. He nodded silently.

She looked at him closely, then at the necklace. Worth a try isn't it?  A voice declared in the back of her head.

"Draco Malfoy," She whispered towards the mirror. It's surface glinted for a moment then the familiar blue mist came into view. As predicted, Draco appeared. The mirror shifted to the Draco she had spent time with. Hermione's eyes widened in shock. But only too soon the mirror shifted once more and the other Draco appeared and the image stayed that way.

***

Harry felt free. Free from all the distractions in Hogwarts. His mind was clouded with memories of previous events. Events that didn't seem important at the time. But now, he was able to think, without any disturbance,

What am I doing?! I can't…I shouldn't…How did this happen? He thought, mentally kicking himself due to his thoughts and all of his sentiments. The rain splashed across his already drenched face.  

This was not suppose to happen! Not now, not ever…It's not right! It's just NOT right!!!

 As he opened his eyes, he saw the droplets of water bombarding down upon his glasses. Harry felt defeated. For years he had closed all the doors, to prevent this  from happening. But she caught him off his guard; and now, he was without his protection.

***

Hermione went rigid all over. She was more that confounded now. What the hell just happened?!

"No, no, no," She whispered softly under hear breath, "This must be some kind of joke!" Hermione stepped back from both the Dracos, and looked up, from one to the other – hoping that one of them would explain to her of their situation.

Neither of them spoke, to her greatest dismay. They merely looked at each other. Shooting glances over to Hermione from time to time. From her view, it seemed as though they were talking to each other, though she didn't know how. Maybe it was just a Slytherin thing?

"Oh sh*t…" The Draco-Who-She-Had-Spent-Time with said.

"What? Why…?" Hermione asked him curiously, but was shortly given the answer. First it was his hair, then the tone of his skin, his face became more unsightly, his height, his figure.

There, in front of them stood Quidditch Captain – Marcus Flint.

Hermione shot a quick glance at the real Draco. He didn't seem surprised. He didn't move a muscle, his eyes were fixed on Flint's own as if he had known this all along. Hermione strode awkwardly to his side. Even then he didn't react. He merely blinked.

"Flint! You m****r f*****g bastard!" He bellowed once Hermione was at his side, acid dripping down through every word.

Draco strode over to Flint – his eyes as cold as metal,  he grabbed hold of Flint's shoulders and pushed him down – hard. He simply let Draco push him around with ease.  Flint, did not dare to fight back. He fell with such force that Hermione was able to feel his quake as he hit the floor.

She gasped as she heard the unpleasant sound of Flint hitting the floor. Without a further move, Draco turned and faced Hermione, his eyes still cold and dangerous.

"Come on," He ordered her. Draco walked in long strides and Hermione was struggling to keep up. His shoulders were set, and tense.

"Malfoy," Hermione didn't know hat caused her to call him by his last name again, but previous events, showed that she just couldn't trust him right now. She just spent one of the greatest times of her whole entire life with, who she thought at the time was Draco. But now she realized it was Flint. Hermione shuddered at the thought. She felt like she was going to be sick.

"Malfoy," Hermione sighed, quickening her pace trying to catch up to his strides. He only walked faster. Hermione gave in and just stopped, fed up with his lack of speech.

Draco kept walking, but he slowed down a bit – realizing that he couldn't hear another set of footsteps. He stopped and turned around. There was Hermione, standing with arms folded across her chest, looking ticked. 

"Come on Hermi-"

"No," She said firmly half shouting, "I need to talk to you Draco!"

"We can talk later," He proposed.

"I don't want to talk later," Hermione seemed aggravated, she began to tap one foot on the floor annoyed, "Get your ass over here Draco Malfoy!" she ordered as she pointed to a spot next to her.

Draco pursued, quite hacked off. He was at her side in a matter of seconds. He looked down at her, boring his eyes into her own. She dropped her guard. Her arms laid on either side of her. Hermione felt like she had been ignored. She staggered a couple of steps back, Draco followed and pinned her between the stone wall and himself.

Hermione knew very little of her current situation. Suddenly her mind was on Harry. She was worried that he would've done something stupid. Then she felt the soft caress on her cheek. She opened her eyes. She didn't even realize they were close in the first place.

Draco caressed her cheek with his thumb, and himself against her. He wanted her, and he needed her. She was all he lived for and nothing more. Hermione looked up. Draco let his fingers trail down onto her chin. Hermione closed her eyes again and her hands clasped either sides of his forearms.

Draco bent down, his eyes closing into slits and their lips finally met. Hermione could feel the heat radiating from him. His tender touch on the small of her back, urging her to come closer. They caressed each others lips.

Draco moved one of his hands to grab hold of her beautiful brown locks. He could feel her chest rise and fall with every necessary breath she took, though not wanting to break their superior kiss. Draco could feel her legs looping around one of his own, he could sense the way she urgently needed him.

Hermione moved her hands up to encircle his neck, to pull him closer to her. She could feel his wet tongue caress her lips, asking her for permission. Her lips parted and their tongues met with such force. They've been waiting for this moment for so long. To finally feel each other the way they've always dreamed.

Hermione arched herself towards him, pleading for more. This was not like the previous kiss she had encountered. This was compassionate, potent yet gentle at the same time...

Draco was forced to pull away from her as he sucked in gallons of needed air. He panted slightly, looking at the wall behind he left shoulder. He wanted to see her face, to see the aftereffects of his actions. He saw that Hermione was kneeling against the wall as if feeling defeated. Her eyes were searching for his. Finally she found them, locked with her own.

She could see what was in his eyes…pure lust.

"I really do love you Hermione," Draco said softly as his head rested on top of her brown locks. He waited for a reply but none came. Hermione had both arms wrapped around his waist tightly clinging onto the back his jumper, and her head on his chest.

Draco could hear her sniffing slightly and saw her shoulders shaking a little.

She's crying…? He asked himself. Draco pulled away from her to observe her face. Her cheeks were slightly flushed. Hermione felt vaguely embarrassed, but looked at him with tearful eyes none the less.

"Hermione," Draco began coaxing, "C'mon don't cry,"

The only response he got was the slight quaver of her shoulders as she sobbed. She placed her head back onto his chest. He wrapped his arm protectively around her and just held her there. At this moment in time no words were necessary.

The only sounds heard in that corridor was the soft muffled cry from Hermione and the comforting whispers from Draco…

***

Ron, now a lonesome Gryffindor in the Great Hall, still waiting for his friends. It was getting rather late, nearly nine o'clock. Ron was playing with what was left over of his mashed potatoes.  Although Dean and Seamus had offered to keep him company, Ron had thought that he could use this moment in time to think.

Ron's not stupid. It's pretty obvious to everyone in Gryffindor that something was troubling Harry. During classes, Harry would always shift from time to time, he didn't do this before. Ron was unable to pinpoint exactly what was bother him best friend.

Every time he would ask Harry what was wrong, Harry would brush it of like it was nothing, then quickly changes he subject. No matter how many times Ron has tried, Harry won't budge.

Then there was Hermione. She's been missing breakfast and lunch today. Yesterday she was fine. Ron was extremely worried, what with the Dark Mark imprinted on her arm. She acts different around him now, acting quite tight-up, as if she's hiding something, similar to Harry. Every time Hermione would just leave, she doesn't tell Harry or himself what she's up to.

Usually, all three would tell each other all that was on their individual minds. They knew about each other, everything about them. Ron was beginning to feel that his tight bond with his two closest friends was breaking apart in front of his eyes.

He tries to help them, but they don't want his aid. The rising of Voldermort also sent quavers down Ron's spine. Voldermort was becoming stronger, and stronger and the only person who could help save the fate of the Wizarding World seems to have him own personal problems.

There was also Malfoy. Something was up, besides the fact that he has "to keep an eye on Hermione". He has not made one lousy comment, aimed at Harry of himself today. Ron felt insecure again. Harry didn't eat during lunch either, Ron didn't know where he was during the time. During breakfast Harry acted normal, and ate.

Something happened between breakfast and lunch to the both of his friends, and Ron knew that this was what contributed to the way his friends were acting.

What a crap day to begin the week… Ron thought solemnly to himself. He dropped his utensils on his half empty plate. It clanged loudly against his plate and the noise filled the emptying hall. A couple of Ravenclaws looked up from their tight gossiping bunch.

Ron sighed heavily to himself. He pushed the heavy oak doors open, and was about to head up to the Gryffindor common room when he heard the urgent footsteps, leading from someone, somewhere, not too far away.

Ron waited impatiently, hoping that those urgent steps belonged to Harry or Hermione, no matter what the odds were. Ron looked on and walked steadily towards the end of the corridor.

Unfortunately enough, Ron caught a glimpse of the Slytherin crest on someone's robes. The figure kept running, but Ron lost interest, that is, until he heard his name called for.

"Weasley!" The hoarse voice shouted. Ron turned around and was surprised to see Marcus Flint, standing not too far away from himself, trying hard to catch his breath.

"Your smartass girlfriend is crying again," He informed Ron smugly.

"Really?" Ron asked with a roll of his eyes, "And why should I trust you then?"

Flint smirked, showing his distorted teeth. "See it in any way you want Weasley, think of this as a favor. You owe me now," And with that he strolled down the hall, heading towards the Slytherin common room. Ron stood on, not knowing what to do.

After all, this was Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch captain popular for his uncanny lies.