Hey guys, guess what? (Chicken butt...) Um... Yeah, I'm sort of sick, and I also have school the day after tomorrow. So, er... Don't be expecting me to update my story often now. And plus, I'm getting ready to finish it. So, yeah... OH and I just want to answer those of you guys, who complained how mean Ron and Harry became, and I have to agree but, I also want to give you my reasons.

1. This is a fanfic. I can do what I want, even something totally unrealistic like... I don't know... So, I'm sorry if I sound really mean, but it's sort of what I felt like doing.

2. Yeah, I know they're really mean, and maybe that would never happen, because like one person said, "they've been through thick and thin and you can't imaging them ever doing something like that to her," but you know, I sort of need them being like that or else I'll have to think of a way for Harry and Ron to forgive her without making it so cliché. Yeah. So I know that Harry and Ron would never do that sort of thing, but please just let me go on this. It also adds the DRAMA to it and stuff, you know? Yeah!

So, please forgive me guys. I would totally appreciate it. Thanks guys, I hope this chapter satisfies your hunger.

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"Hermione?"

Draco didn't mind her light head on his broad shoulders but it was getting dark and his car was waiting for him.

"Hermione?"

'Why am I being like this to her? I shouldn't. It's wrong. I'm acting like some total goofball going all goo-goo-ga-ga over some girl.'

"Hermione." This one came out a bit more sternly.

'What's wrong with her? Is she sick? Is it serious?' Remembering one of his mother's first aid lectures, the first thing to do to check if they were sick, was to feel one's forehead.

Hot. Burning. Ardent. Calescent. Feverish.

"Hermione!"

"Huh?" Her chocolaty eyes peered open a centimeter to reveal a misty swirl replacing the usual sparkle. They were dark. They showed great agony.

"Get up, Hermione. We should go home now."

"I'm tired."

"Hermione. You can rest in the house."

"No. I like it here."

He looked at her hard. "Let's go." She slumped back onto the bench. He only had one thing in mind. "Hermione." He released a great sigh. Quickly stretching out his muscles, he gave out a bit of a groan as he carried her 2 blocks to his patient car. Her head was still very hot and now excreting beads of sweat. As he sank into the driver seat, he was only glad of one thing. She had forgotten that he promised her a chance to drive his sweet car.

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He laid her gently on the couch, and the first thing he did was contact the family healer.

"This is Healer Mochair. May I help you?"

"Hey, this is Draco Malfoy."

"Oh, hello sir. How are you?"

"Fine, except I've got this girl who has a high fever and has been acting very strange. Can you come over now?"

"Now? Well, if the lady means that much to you sir, then I guess I should be able to check her."

"She does NOT mean that much to me, huh. Hello, what, hello?" The other line went dead.

Crack.

"Is it this lady over here on the couch? Why, I've got to add that you, sir have a very good taste when it comes to women. You've got all the good ones. Of course with a face like yours, one can hardly..."

"Mochair, get to work." Draco said crossly. 'Note to self: Get mother to fire him.'

The healer bowed slightly and kneeled on the carpet beneath Hermione. He was quite a peculiar man, but seeing him work convinced Draco of the reason he was still their healer. He busily peered into her eye, checked her breathing, and took a look into her mouth. In just a few minutes, he stood up, still looking down at the girl.

"Well..." Draco started.

"Well, she's sick."

"I KNOW THAT SHE'S SICK. MY MOTHER IS NARCISSA MALFOY, YOU THINK SHE WON'T TEACH ME HOW TO DETERMINE IF SOMEONE WAS SICK OR NOT?" Draco felt himself losing it. However, Mochair, apparently used to his hormonal temper, he knew better than to speak back. Instead, he watched as Draco quickly tranquilized (I just love that word. If you notice, I use that word so much.) himself.

"Continue."

"Well, mister Malfoy, she is not just sick. You are witnessing a victim of the first symptoms stress."

"What? Can't it be just a cold or something?"

"No. Her throat is perfectly fine and her breathing shows no sign of heaviness. You mentioned her odd behavior, and she does seem to have a fever. Her eyes are far away. These are symptoms of stress."

"That- That's all? Just give her some time off and she'll be fine?"

"You wish, Mr. Malfoy. This is a very serious illness and 98% of the time leads to disfunctions with the brain."

Draco looked at him with a vacant countenance.

"Huh?"

"She'll go crazy." He simply replied.

Draco looked at the frail, resting body on his expensive sofa. Crazy. She was one of the best witches that Hogwarts have ever acknowledged, and as much as he hated to admit, but she was loads better than him. She couldn't go crazy now. She had an incredible future.

"Can you fix it? Maybe there's a cure."

Just an year ago, Draco would have looked at the girl on the couch and just mutter, "Stupid mudblood got what she deserved." However, he had softened up so much, enough to disgust himself. 'Stop it. You're acting like some idiotic moron. Toughen up!'

"Well, I do applaud you for calling me early. Fortunately for you, this is only the very beginning of stress. She may be one of the 2% who are cured. Unfortunately for you, we will have to take her to one of our wards for patients like your lady here, and have her treated by our top physicians. We could do that. But mind you, it does cost plenty."

"You know, Mochair, that money is no problem to the Malfoys. I'm surprised you even thought to question me about it."

"If it is what sir Malfoy thinks, it will be what I do. She will be gone for weeks, I suppose." Mochair added a sigh. "I suppose Mr. Malfoy should say his last goodbye to his fair lady?"

Malfoy gave a bit of a glare. "Please stop with all this 'My lady' nonsense. She's just my maid."

"Well, I don't recall having Mr. Malfoy call me for a checkup on his maid before." Mochair hinted signs of suspicions.

Malfoy waved his hand away. "Just go, Mochair."

"As you wish, sire." He took Hermione's body and left the Malfoy manor in a crack.

"Just go, Hermione." Malfoy kicked himself for the unexpected water in his eyes.

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"Draco?" Narcissa's high voice entered the silent hall.

"Yes mother?"

"Where is Hermione? I can't seem to find her. I just got mail for her."

Draco sighed. This was going to take a long time.

"Um... well," and he sat his shocked mother down on a chair as he began to spin her the story of Hermione's sickness. He edited his new feelings out as he explained about her illness called "STRESS."

"Well, Draco, I have to say that I am proud of you beyond imaginable. You have truly grown from an immature little boy, following his demanding father's words, to a young man with compassion and love." The teary Narcissa Malfoy embraced her son into a large hug.

"Er, thanks mom." Draco stuttered.

"See how good it feels to help someone?"

'I see how it feels to be soft and bendable.' He thought. 'How to be in...' He hated to admit it.

"Sleep well. Don't stay up too late, just because you don't have your maid here to nag to you go to sleep." She smiled weakly as she gave a kiss on his forehead and walked up the spiral staircase to her chamber.

'How to be in...' Draco thought. It had to come out sometime. He couldn't hide it. He was never like this. He was always cold and stern.

'How to be in...' Impossible. It couldn't be. But then again, there was no other explanation for his kindness.

'How to be in...' It was unbearable, yet so true. There was no hiding.

'How to be in...'

He said out loud. "Love."

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Sniff. Oh, my nose hurts so much from my Kleenex. Huh. They lied! They said it's extra soft!!!

So, tell me if you liked my chapter. Please? So it may have been a bit useless in some parts and I definitely repeated stuff too much, but, my brain isn't functioning properly. And I'm all stuffy and...Oh, I feel miserable. So some very good reviews just might make my day, like how all of you guys make my day everyday.

You have no idea how happy and thankful I am.

Thanks.

Youngwriter.