Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter, or the song Let me be your Hero by Enrique Iglesias.

Notes: A Draco/Hermione story. Lyrics are in bold. Thoughts and emphasized words are italicized--I think you can tell the difference being the smart people that you are.

Just wanted to say thanks to: Mela, kawaii&crazy, Bozena, DivineSilence, shimmerysparkles, goldseraph Chaserlizina, PK, Zippy Diaperbrain, Raiast, reviewer, jadziadaxx, gina diaz 5, Jessy-Allens, bright pink star, Tracy3, AnimeLuver333, relena333, RonFan, Lover del Dragon, MyOwnAntagonist, silverhazel, RedWitch1, Shea LaRoc, and I-h8-sclub. Yall Rock!

Author: Pensive Puddles

Behind the Masks

II. Complete Lies

By Pensive Puddles

Would you lie?

Would you run and hide?

"You seem awfully happy today, Hermione," Draco heard Ginny observe. He kept his eyes on his paper, yet his quill shook in his hands. He could still taste her cherry lips.

"Oh…just excited for the game. You know, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin games are always the best," she said casually. There was truth to some extent, but Ginny would never know the real truth for her happiness, or why her face seemed to glow and her lips were a darker shade of red than usual.

Bitterness swept over him. She would lie about them. Even if they were something more, something truer, she would lie because she was ashamed. But he hadn't had expected the bargain between them to grow like it did. He had thought that if he had finally felt her, then maybe he would have stopped loving her. Instead, it had pushed him in the other direction, making her his ideal obsession.

After that night that he had whispered his love to her in a discreet way, he started to notice little things she did that were outside of the bargain they had arranged.

She would start kissing him with tenderness, kissing him like she really meant it. She would stare at him, even letting her guard down once or twice and smiling at him with a warm flicker in her eyes that warmed him to the bottom of his toes, even in front of her friends!

He repaid her with the same courtesy, indiscreetly of course. The dream he had hoped would happen was slowly becoming a reality.

"Draco, come on! Everyone's waiting in the lockers for you," Blaise said gruffly. Draco did not grumble but got off his chair, noticing Hermione's wandering gaze. He glanced at her, winking. She blushed and looked away.

He hid his smile and walked down the halls.

An iron like hand gripped his arm and Draco stopped. He glared at Blaise, as if demanding him to know who he thought he was for even touching him. Blaise did not back down from the stare. Over the years, he had grown accustomed to Draco's haughty behavior, yet their small, twisted friendship led him to forgive Draco unconsciously.

"End it now, Draco." Draco had never heard Blaise sound so serious in his life. Blaise had always been a carefree, happy-go-lucky boy, so unlike the other Slytherin boys and girls whose parents were also involved with the Dark Lord.

Draco glared coldly, his mask once again rising. "I don't know what your talking about, Blaise. Let me go."

"I know you're with her. You've been acting strange. You've quit making fun of Potter and Weasley, but only when she's with them. It's great that you've finally found love, Draco, but find love with another girl. She's not worth it. She's the best friend of you enemy, for the love of Merlin!"

"Blaise, I'm going to pretend that we've never had this discussion. You're sicker than I thought," Draco hissed and ripped his hand out of the boy's arm and stormed down the hall.

"Draco. Draco!" Blaise called. The blond ignored him. Blaise ran up next to him.

"Listen to me, you idiot!" he yelled, grabbing his arm again and stopping him. Facing him, he smiled apologetically, "I believe you if you tell me nothing's going on. Its just…we never do anything together anymore. You always say you have homework, and you're never anywhere, it's like you just disappear! I miss our friendship, especially now that it'll come to an end soon…"

They both swallowed unpleasantly and unconsciously reached for their left arm. Draco could practically see the black mark shinning through the heavy, dark material of his shirt. No friendships were to be held above the friendship with the Dark Lord. It was better not having friendships at all considering they would all die one way or another. It was less painful to watch a comrade go down instead of a friend. "I know, Blas, I know…" Draco murmured and continued down the hall. The mask slipped for a second and Draco rested a hand on his friend's shoulder. Blaise nodded in gratitude at the small amount of affection Draco was allowing him to see. The two boys walked down the halls in silence.

Draco gave a quick peep talk to his teammates, and just like he had said he would, Draco pretended as if the incident in the hall had never happened, treating Blaise like he treated every other team member: demanding strict obedience.

Yelling, he ordered his team out of the locker room and they left, Draco leading them. It was a glorious site, the Quidditch stands packed to capacity with students and teachers. Of course, more people wore gold and red then green and silver. That had always been the case.

The ground shook with roars of boos and cheering. The players walked to the middle of the field, facing the opposite teams. Draco and Harry, the captains, met up in the middle and they shook hands.

"May the best team win," Madam Hooch said.

"We intend to," Draco smirked.

Harry's eyes gleamed, returning the smirk, "Don't be too sure, Ferret. As I recall, it's been Gryffidor who keeps beating your sorry butt these seven years."

Draco's smirked widened. "We'll see Potter…We shall see."

He saw the small confusion, doubt in Harry's face after he said that. It was just the way Draco had said it that had caused Harry to act so…unnerved.

"Mount your brooms!"

The players gripped their brooms tightly, feet itching to get off the ground.

A sharp whistle pierced the ear and Draco kicked off the ground, shooting upward at such a speed that by the time he was in the air, Harry was still kicking off the ground. Draco could practically feel Harry's glare as he circled the stadium.

He zoomed around the stadium, giving himself a personal little warm up. He flew low, blowing over a few girls heads who shrieked with glee and blew kisses to him. Yes, he was a Slytherin, but cute Slytherins were an exception.

Draco stopped, breathing in the sharp air. He could smell, could feel every force in the stadium, every player, every blade of grass. He felt as if he himself was part of the stadium.

He looked around lazily, noting angrily that Gryffindor had scored earlier then he had wanted them to. He looked around, keeping a lazy on the Snitch and the other on Potter.

He dipped low, keeping everyone on their toes. He yelled at his players, ordering them to pay attention. He flew by Goyle and slapped him on the side of the head, commanding him to concentrate.

Suddenly, something gold caught his eye. He jerked out of his flight and dove straight for the ground. Harry was right next to them. They could faintly hear the roar of the crowd as the two Seekers dove what looked like to be their death.

Suddenly, Harry's hand shot forward, almost grabbing the Snitch. Draco raised himself off his broom and swatted Harry's hand away. The Snitch darted away and both boys pulled hard on their brooms, finally noticing how the ground seemed to fly at them. Both he and Harry stopped, their toes barely grazing the grass blades. Wild cheering filled their ears at the amazing spectacle.

Draco smiled and shot up into the air again hearing the cheers, as he knew that Harry was still on the ground. Three times in one game Draco had gotten the cheer than Potter.

The Snitch seemed to have disappeared. He kept his eyes sharp however. The game was close. It was a tie. All he needed to do was wait till Slytherin was ahead by one hit and then he'd grab the Snitch, winning the game.

Loud boos issued from the red and gold covered people that were soon drowned out by the screams of the green and silver colored fans. Draco looked at the score. They were ahead.

"Now I just have to get the Snitch," he said to himself. His nerves bunched in excitement, he shivered and released his tension. Suddenly, his eyes caught the sharp glisten of gold. Harry was chasing it; he was so close, too close.

Draco dived, his hair blowing from his head, eyes watering at the blasting wind. He reached out, every fiber in his body quivering in fear, in hope. He had to beat Potter, for himself, for Slytherin, to show Hermione that he was just as good as Potter. Hermione…

He yelled out a small war cry, and raised himself off his broom. He snatched the Snitch that Harry's hand had almost clasped over. He dove up. Harry, who had not seen Draco, was caught so off guard that he jerked back, throwing himself off his broom. Draco wheeled his broom around and flew down, grabbing Harry by his arm and leading them flying them both to the ground.

There was a sudden silence, a deafening silence that turned into a deafening roar. Even the Gryffindor's cheered weakly for Draco for his gallant save of Harry.

Draco got off his broom, his hand trembling at the sudden realization. He had beat Harry Potter, the Harry Potter! Draco with an awe look still on his face, turned to look at the loser. Harry looked at him, his eyes glassy and face fallen as if he had just lost his dignity, his pride, and in a way, he had.

"Congratulations, Malfoy," he said dully, his face tightened, as if the words tasted sour in his mouth. Draco was surprised his tone wasn't dripping in sarcasm, bitterness, everything he himself would have said it in.

Draco nodded. Suddenly, he was swept off his feet and was lifted up by hundreds of hands. He smiled a genuine smile and laughed a pure genuine laugh. So this is what it feels like…he thought silently to himself as they sat him down and the team dog piled him, the girls kissing him, the boys patting his back hard.

He got up, his hair ruffled from the wind and from being rolled over on the ground. Blades of grass stuck in his hair, dirt covered his face and uniform. He looked around, looked at the half empty stands considering that almost everyone was on the grounds either nursing the losers or praising the winners.

"Good show, Mr. Malfoy. Good show! I'm proud of you," the old headmaster said. And for some odd reason, Draco almost wanted to cry in pride that the Great Dumbledore would say such kind words, words he would have said to Harry, but had said them to Draco Malfoy instead. "You have great potential, young man. Not only as a leader and student, but also in sports and other academics! Very few men are blessed with the talents and gifts giving to you."

Draco smiled, hoping his tears would not fall. He nodded his head in gratitude at the Headmasters touching words. The old man nodded back. It was respect Draco had never received before.

"50 points to Slytherin for the show at the end of the game," the man's bright eyes twinkled.

Draco was engulfed in cheers and hugs. Slytherin was finally ahead of the Gryffindor's. They had a very good chance of beating the Gryffindor's in the House Cup.

Draco looked around as he was lifted into the air again. His eyes soared over the crowd, looking for the one person he had hoped had watched the closest. He saw her leading a broken faced Potter away, Ron sobbing on her shoulder. She looked at him, a sad expression on her face that melted slightly when he looked at her. He knew he couldn't have expected her to cheer for him. It would give away too much. He took what he got.

Am I in too deep?

Have I lost my mind?

I don't care

You're here tonight

Draco sat in his room. The party had been long, loud and fun, yet his heart really wasn't in it. He had sat at the head of the table, nodding to the toasts made to him, watched as the girls danced for him, watched as his peers drowned themselves in Butterbeer and other stronger beverages.

Near the end, he slipped off, letting Blaise cover for him. He took a long shower, savoring the feel of the hot water. When he stepped out of the shower, he looked at himself in the mirror that would never fog. He saw himself: young, youthful, handsome, yet one thing made him ugly, made him disgusting. A black scar on his arm that shinned unnaturally against his fair skin.

And then Dumbledore's world came back, thundering in his head: I'm proud of you. You have great potential, young man. Not only as a leader and student, but also in sports and other academics! Very few men are blessed with the talents and gifts giving to you.

And that smile on that wrinkled face! Dumbledore was Draco's vision of a perfect old father, or more like a grandfather. He was the kind of man Draco wished he had had when he was child who he could have run to when he had troubles. And that smile, that smile was for him, not Potter, but him. It was like Dumbledore was proud of him for being who he was at that moment, unlike his father who was proud of him for pleasing the Dark Lord. Dumbledore was proud of him for doing something good, for himself.

And with those conclusions mixing with Dumbledore's words, Draco let the tears fall. Hermione wasn't there. He was alone. He flung himself to his bed, crying like a lost child.

Shame swept over him. The happiness he had felt earlier disappeared and he was filled with remorse, despair, and regret…the happy feeling from earlier now seemed like a dream.

Draco closed his eyes and fell into a light sleep. He heard a small knock on his door. His eyes snapped open and he jumped out of bed.

"Who is it?" he demanded.

"Hermione."

"Uh…hold on!" he called, grabbing a shirt and throwing it on. He made sure it covered his mark and he opened the door.

"Hi," she said breathlessly. She looked tired. She had probably stayed by Potter and Weasley's side, comforting them and their wounded pride. He knew it probably had taken most of her strength to calm the Weasel. Not only was the red head a disgrace to the Wizard World, he was a disgrace to the male population, crying like that over a stupid game. Don't get him wrong, Draco took Quidditch seriously, but he'd punch walls until his knuckles were to bloody and bruised to hit anything instead of crying like a big baby.

She smiled. "You did great. It took awhile to admit it. But you were awesome. Even Harry and Ron agreed-- maybe not in words...well, you know them. You were just…amazing…"

"Thanks," he said pleased and yet a little uncomfortable. He looked down at her and he smiled. She relaxed and leaned against him, letting him embrace her and take all the stress away. He kissed her head. She titled her head back and kissed his lips.

"Wow," he remarked, licking his lips, "that was better then beating the Famous Harry Potter."

She giggled. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"This is for you." He handed her something. Hermione looked at the rather large box and opened it. A gold ball with wings sprouted from the sides shinned up at her. She gasped. It was the Snitch, the Snitch he had won. On the gold side facing her, it read in elegant, green cursive, "I did it for you, Hermione. Love, Draco."

She blinked, biting back tears. She knew how much Quidditch meant to Draco. The Snitch was given to the most important player on the team. Usually, a person only receives the Snitch once. His first Snitch and he was giving it to her.

She kissed him, kissed him tenderly. Her hand touched his arm. She froze. Draco froze. Time stood still.

She pulled back, looking at where her hand was touching and she looked up at him, her eyes filled with fear.

"Draco…" she trembled. He swallowed, closing his eyes and turning his head as if not wanting to see her visage. Her hand lifted up the sleeve of his shirt and she dropped the box in her hand.

"Oh my god," she whispered and backed away, covering her mouth. She looked up at him, eyes drowning in pain, in fear, in betrayal…

Draco swallowed back the urge to vomit. "Hermione, I…"

She shook her head and back away. "Stay away--Don't say anything to me, Malfoy."

She stumbled back and ran to her room. Her door slamming shattered his heart to pieces.

He stumbled back to his bed, tears falling fast and hard down his face again. His body shook with sad spasms. He did not deny himself the pain. He deserved it.

The look in her eyes…he'd never forgive himself for it.

Later that night, as his eyes were slowly drying from his remaining tears, the door opened slightly and a figure walked to his room. He half opened his eyes, seeing only a blur. Light fingers closed his eyelids again; they felt like feathers against his skin. A soft kiss pressed against his head. And then she was gone.

I can be your hero baby

I can kiss away the pain

I will stand by you forever

You can take my breath away

When he went to breakfast the next day, he didn't know what he should feel. His feet were contemplating of carrying a bounce in them or drag sorrowfully across the ground.

She had came back to him that night. But why? Did she forgive him? Yet how could she? Had she told everyone about his secret? He should have been more careful! He shouldn't have fallen in love with her in the first place!

As he entered the Great Hall, the room fell into complete silence, making his heart stop in cold fear, swallowing him. So she had told her secret. Her kiss last night had been one of apology, for betraying him. Betraying him? Technically, he betrayed her first, kind of, in a twisted sort of way. He didn't know!

Suddenly, the room that had once been deadly silent filled with thundering applause. Draco looked up, startled. Every student clapped; the Slytherin's beat against the table with the cups and fists. Yet they were cheering for him, congratulating him again on his performance from the day earlier.

Draco was too dazed to do anything. He just walked down to his table in awe as he peers parted for him in respect he never knew they could posses.

He looked up at his table filled with smiling faces. It had been awhile since his whole table had been happy. None of them had anything to look forward to. He didn't have anything nice to look forward to. He was to be a full Death Eater when he graduated, as would almost all of the other seventh year Slytherins.

And then he and his peers would have to kill the ones who had just clapped for him, had cheered for him. They would have to murder them in cold-blood, in their sleep, whatever method to weaken the Light. Draco lost his appetite immediately.

"Ugh, you'd think the Mudblood and half-blood would get a room," He faintly heard Pansy murmured in disgust next to him.

Instantly, Draco looked up. A little nudge would have made him fall over like paper. His eyes widened in pain and shock, his face drained of color.

Hermione was giggling as Harry nuzzled her neck. Draco gripped the bench, his hands shaking, his knuckles white. She was smiling at Potter, smiling at him like she used to smile at him.

"I…I…I'll see you in class," Draco wheezed and stumbled away from the table, rushing out of the Great Hall.

He leaned against the wall that was secluded from the halls. He sat in the dark, hand covering his face and he shook, crying dry tears. He had shed all his tears the night before.

"Draco?" a quiet voice called to him. He didn't move, didn't make a sound. He didn't want to talk to her, see her. The only thing he could see was her and Potter.

"Draco," Hermione said gently. He felt a warm hand on his arm. It felt like fire. He jerked from her touch.

"Keep your filthy hands off me, Mudblood," he snarled. He heard her take an intake of breath, could feel her hurt eyes staring at him. It had been a long time since he had called her that.

"I…I was going to tell you last night…"

"What? After you snogged me?" He accused, glaring at her with his best piercing gaze. He could feel her cower beneath him.

"No!" She said. She looked at him, and quickly averted her gaze. "I got caught up in the moment, and then you gave me the Snitch…I'm sorry, Draco. I know I must have hurt you--"

"First of all, Mudblood, it's Malfoy to you, second of all, my feelings are not something you can just talk about over tea. So why don't you just get the hell away from me?" He pushed her away, making her stumble backward and he walked down the hall, away from her, from the pain.

"I know you're mad--" she followed him, ignoring his crude comments.

"Mad? Why would I be mad?" he said, giving her a confused, amused look. He stomped over to her, grabbed her by her chin, he crushed his lips against hers, and bit her bottom lip. It was their last kiss; he'd make it memorable. When he pulled back, her lips were red and swollen, the bottom having a line of dark red across it. She licked her blood painfully away. He glared darkly into her eyes. "I was just expanding my horizons considering they'll be cut short after graduation."

"He's taking you away that soon?" she blurted, understanding his hidden meaning instantly.

"Right when I get my diploma. So don't feel bad, Granger, it was fun while it lasted. I'll admit that you're the most intriguing Mudblood I've ever encountered; you're even prettier than any Pureblood female I've met. But that's it. You're just a good snog." He whirled around sharply after giving her a cold smirk and he walked down the halls, hoping he had left his heart shattered in the corner where no one would find it. Yet the shattered pieces cut the insides of his soul with their sharp pieces, making him bleed in agonizing slow pain.

A/N: Hey there! Well, there it goes, maybe a little shorter than the first chapter. Oh yes, and to those who said they would have read all 40 pages in one go, I was really touched by that. I don't know, to actually know people would sit at a computer late at night or whatever time and spend a decade reading it…it just makes me all fuzzy inside!

So, if you'd be so kind and be as super cool like last time, push that little familiar blue button and write down a few words again….I'd be so happy. Really, when I first opened my email and saw all those reviews…I almost fell out of my chair.

OK! Again, I repeat to those who didn't give me their email address last time, if you would like to know when the final chapter of this rather odd short story trilogy is updated, leave your email address in your review or something like that. Just in case you're interested…

And to those drop dead spiffy people who do, you are my favorite person in the world…