Disclaimer: Do I live in a huge mansion? I didn't think so. If I did I wouldn't be here with youz guyz. I'd be writing HP novel #6. So I'm not J.K. Rowling, and so I don't own any of this.

A/N: I wrote three chapters this weekend, so I'll post them all at once. Just because I love y'all. *wink*

"Mr.Longbottom, did I mention wolfsbane at all? Was wolfsbane involved in my instructions?"

"No--no, Professor."

"Then why have you added it to your potion? Are you trying to poison your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

"No, Professor."

"Then I think you should be more frugal with your use of my stores of wolfsbane, Mr.Longbottom, lest we someday come up short and have a werewolf running rampant on our grounds. I should think that you wouldn't like to be around a werewolf, especially when he's hungry--"

The door to the Potions room opened abruptly, cutting off Snape's vicious diatribe. Neville looked relieved, and he slumped in his seat, looking slightly green. Snape narrowed his eyes at Hermione, who stood in the doorway. The whole class turned around, their eyes wide. Hermione had stood outside the doorway to compose herself before she even opened the door, so she said calmly, "Professor, Professor McGonagall would like to see Draco Malfoy."

Snape narrowed his eyes and didn't answer for a long moment. Then he flicked a glance at Draco, who rose smoothly. He shot Hermione a look of pure dislike, which she promptly returned. Hermione stepped out of the doorway so she wouldn't touch Draco. She closed the door firmly behind them. Once the door was closed, her facade of calm cracked, and Draco's eyes narrowed on her face. He clamped his hand around her wrist, and she winced. Bruises were already showing on her fair skin from where Ron had grabbed her. She discreetly pulled her sleeve over her wrist, not wanting Draco to see the marks.

He pulled her into an old classroom. There was a fine layer of dust over everything, including the windows. As a result the room was poorly lit, and there was a murky feel to it. As soon as she stepped into the room, Hermione sneezed violently. Draco glanced at her, impatience in his gray eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I'm allergic--" she sneezed again, "to dust." And proceeded to have a fit of three sneezes in a row.

Draco huffed impatiently and muttered a quick spell. The dust vanished from the desks and windows, leaving the room as clean as if a squad of Merry Maids had invaded. Hermione stopped sneezing and looked at him with watery eyes. "Thanks."

"No problem," he muttered. "Now tell me what's wrong. I know McGonagall doesn't really need me."

Hermione shook her head. "No." She took a deep breath. She was clearly drawing her lines, and it made her sick to her stomach. If she told Draco before she told anyone else about the potential threat that was in the Forbidden Forest, Harry and Ron would feel betrayed if they found out. She had sided with Draco, and they wouldn't like it one bit. But if she loved Draco, then she had to be willing to trust him. She bit her lip, and Draco frowned. "Just spit it out, Granger!" he said edgily.

That caused her to smile. Ah, despite his other good qualities, patience would never be one of Draco's virtues. Then she sobered. "I went to Dumbledore's office, Draco. When I was there, a portrait came into his frame and said that he had just come from the Ministry."

Draco's body tightened, but he didn't interrupt her, so she continued. "He said that dozens of Aurors had been sent out, Draco. Sent to the Forbidden Forest."

"The Forbidden Forest?" Draco exploded. "What the hell are Deatheaters doing so close to Hogwarts? Did Dumbledore go out there?"

Hermione nodded mutely, worry stamped on her face as she watched Draco start to pace. She nibbled on her lower lip. "Draco--" she asked hesitantly. "Have you heard anything about this?"

He gave her a fulminating look. "No, I haven't heard anything," he snapped. "Don't you think I would have told you?"

Hermione hesitated, and Draco turned slowly to look at her. Seeing the look in his eyes, Hermione said hurriedly, "I know that you're not like your father, Draco, it's just--well--he is your father, and---"

"And you thought that I'd choose my father over you," Draco finished for her. Hermione bit her lip and stared at him with miserable eyes. "It's not so much that," she said, clearly upset. "But I just wasn't sure, Draco---"

"Then why the hell did you tell me then?" he snapped at her. "Aren't you worried that I'll go warn them? Devoted son of a Deatheater that I am?"

Hermione looked on the verge of tears, and even through his anger Draco had to steel himself not to comfort her. The damned woman was like a drug in his veins, he thought furiously. She had crawled so deep inside him that he didn't think he'd ever be free of her. He didn't want to feel this much for her. She was a complication, a hassle and an annoyance. But she made him feel---worthy. Cared for. Loved. And despite how much she messed up his strict plans for his life, he wouldn't get rid of her. Not even when she was being a trying nuisance, like now.

Hermione looked at him, and her heart ached. He was so proud. He stood there like some blond Viking, with that mutinous, angry look on his face, but she saw the sense of hurt in his eyes. She crossed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him and clung, even when he stayed as stiff as a board against her. She buried her head against his chest. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, Draco. It's just--I'm really scared. What if they try to invade Hogwarts? What if they want you to join them? I don't want you hurt. It scares me to death."

Slowly, his body softened against hers, and his arms came around her to comfort. He laid his head on top of hers, and smelled the scent that was uniquely hers clinging to her hair. She smelled like vanilla and cinnamon. Merlin, he loved that smell. He knew that no matter how long he lived, whenever he smelled either scent he would think of her. "I know it scares you," he said softly. "But you have to trust me. I'm not going to join them. I'm not my father, Hermione."

"I know that!" she said fiercely, her arms tightening around him with what Draco would have sworn was protectiveness. "I know that! You couldn't be more different."

Draco laughed harshly. "I don't know about that, love. We're both hard, cruel bastards."

Hermione tilted up her head to look at him. "You're not," she said loyally. "You're not like that."

Draco sighed. "It's nice that you think so, love."

"I know so," she said more calmly. She pressed a kiss to his throat. "I'm sorry I doubted you," she said, the apology in her warm brown eyes.

Draco sighed and raked one hand through his hair, mussing it up. Hermione brought one hand up to play with one lock that fell over his eye. "Hell, baby," he said gruffly. "I'd doubt me too."

Hermione smiled slightly. Draco smiled back at her and kissed her eyelids as her eyes slid shut. Suddenly his mouth pulled away, and she felt the brush of his fingertips on her wrist. Startled, her eyes flew open, and she saw that when she reached up to play with his hair, her sleeve had slid away from her wrist, revealing the bracelet of bruises that Ron had left.

Draco's eyes narrowed savagely. "Those weren't there last night," he said dangerously.

Hermione stared up at him, not sure what to say. If she told him that Ron had left the marks, Draco could easily kill Ron. "Who did it?" Draco asked, his voice too soft.

Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it again. Draco gave her a little shake that made her eyes flash. "Who did it?" he asked through gritted teeth. "Don't make me ask again, Hermione."

"Or what?" she flared, stepping out of his embrace.

"Or I'll find Potter and the Weasel and find out myself."

She glared, but knew that if she didn't tell him Harry would be punished for something he didn't even know had happened. "I dropped my wand last night," Hermione told him, watching his face for signs of his mood. "I went to McGonagall's class and realized I didn't have it. I asked to go get it, and Ron stopped me because I was going alone. He grabbed me--" she saw Draco's face shift into rising rage, and added quickly, "but he let me go as soon as I told him that it hurt, Draco. He didn't mean to. He was trying to protect me," she said rather desperately.

"He left marks on you," Draco said with icy control.

"But he was trying to protect me, just like you wanted!"

"He--put--marks--on--you," Draco said, enunciating the words precisely, his eyes still furious. He turned on his heel and made for the door, but Hermione jumped forward and grabbed his arm. He didn't stop, and didn't even seem to realize that she was pulling on him. "Draco!" she said desperately. "Draco, wait!"

He stopped and glared at her. She glared right back. "He was doing exactly like you wanted," she snapped at him. "Why are you going to go beat him up for that?"

"Protecting you didn't involve leaving marks on you," Draco said with deceptive calm.

"It was an accident," Hermione stressed.

"Accidents like that aren't allowed to happen to my woman," Draco said coldly, making for the door again.

Panicked, Hermione thought quickly. Then she said furiously, "Your woman? You make me sound like you shelve me in importance somewhere between your house elf and your knickers, Draco Malfoy!"

He shot her a glance filled with anger and puzzlement. "What?"

She released him to put her hands on her hips. "That phrase! You make me sound like something you own!"

"I did not!" Draco turned completely around to glare back at her, and Hermione felt a rush of dazzling relief. She didn't give a damn what he called her, she was just trying to distract him so that he forgot about his intention to go after Ron.

"That's exactly what it sounds like," she said furiously. "And I won't stand for it!"

Draco arched one eyebrow sardonically. "You won't stand for it?"

"No!" she sniffed. "I won't. I'm not one of your groupies, Draco!"

He scoffed at her. "I never said you were."

"That's what you made it sound like!" Privately Hermione thought she was edging into harpy territory, but there was still that lingering anger in his eyes. So she continued to push and prod until he was firmly aggravated with her, and forgot about the marks on her wrist.

Finally Draco threw up his hands. "By Merlin! Woman, you could try the patience of a saint. And Merlin knows I'm no damned saint. I'll have to shut you up my way." He took a long step to close the distance between them and effectively shut her up with his mouth on hers.

Hermione felt her eyes drift shut as she relaxed back against the arm that was clamped around her back. Merlin, the man was a good kisser, she thought dreamily. When he released her mouth, she just looked up at him with dreamy eyes. With a sigh of defeat--he could never resist those eyes--he kissed her again.

A moment later, he raised his head when Peeves swooped through the doorway. "Lookee here!" he shouted. "We have a couple of loooovebirds!" he sang, cackling gleefully.

Draco scowled at the troublemaking ghost. "Go away, Peeves," he snarled.

Peeves just continued to laugh at them. "Who would have thought it? A Gryffindor and a Slytherin in an abandoned classroom, snogging each other's brains out!"

Hermione felt a rising flicker of annoyance. She glanced up at Draco, and he seemed to swell slightly. "Get lost, Peeves," he snapped. "Otherwise I'll have to ask the Bloody Baron to dispose of you."

Peeves abruptly stopped laughing and glared at them. He sniffed haughtily. "You don't think that I see what goes on around here? I do, oh I do. Don't think I don't. I saw who attacked your little morsel, Slytherin. But just because of that bit of nastiness, I won't tell you."

Hermione and Draco gaped at Peeves as he sailed out of the classroom through the closed door, clearly miffed. Hermione looked up at Draco with wide eyes. "Draco--" she stammered. "If Peeves saw, then he could tell us!"

"But he's not going to," Draco said grimly. " Damned contrary ghost. But I'll ask the Bloody Baron to intervene on that score."

Hermione nodded, her swollen mouth trembling slightly. Draco sighed, and brushed his fingertips over her bruised cheek. "You worry me," he murmured. "Damned if I know why I let you."

Hermione smiled cheekily. "Because you love me?"

He didn't grin wryly as she had expected. He looked serious, and the smile faded from her lips. She just stared up at him with wide eyes. She didn't know how long they stood together in silence, just staring at one another, until she heard the heavy clomping of shoes in the outer corridor.

The spell abruptly broken, Draco and Hermione's gazes both flew to the door as the heavy footsteps got closer. Hermione's horrified gaze flew to Draco's face. The person was coming inside the classroom! Draco looked grim as he grabbed her hand and dashed over to a large standing cabinet. He rattled the lock on it, then whipped out his wand and muttered hurriedly, "Alohamora!" The lock clicked quietly open, and he pocketed it impatiently and nearly shoved Hermione inside, then climbed in after her. He quickly shut the doors, leaving them cracked slightly so they could see.

He stuck his eye to the crack, but Hermione elbowed him sharply. He grunted, and glared down at her in the darkness of the cabinet. "What the hell is in here?" Hermione muttered, wrinkling her nose. It smelled like pickled eggs and a combination of decaying herbs. "Where did you hide us, Draco?"

"How the hell should I know?" Draco muttered. "It was big, we could hide in it. Did you have any other ideas, smart ass?"

There was a second of silence. "Smart ass," she muttered back. She elbowed her way next to him so that she could also peer out the crack.

"Oh damn," she sighed. "I'm going to smell like pickled eggs all the way to the dormitory." Then the outside door was opening, and they both held their breath as two scorched and weary professors walked into the room and nearly collapsed into chairs.