PART TWELVE

It Was Wrong to Hold Back

"You have to talk to him, Hermione! I can't believe that it's been more than a month since you made any contact with him at all!" Ginny said exasperatedly, looking away from the Quidditch field and staring at her friend beside her.

"I can't!" Hermione shouted above the noise of all the Gryffindors cheering for their team. "I wouldn't know how to act around him! Besides, I think he likes it better this way!"

"No, he doesn't!" Ginny countered, wincing as everyone around them began jumping up in their seats because Gryffindor had scored seventy to forty against Ravenclaw. "Not long ago, he showed you, and everyone in the Three Broomsticks, just how he feels for you, Hermione! He chose to be an object of rumors and gossips about you and him, and took the risk of Pansy and her gang of Slytherin girls to hate him forever, just so he could defend you! He even asked Harry to 'take care' of you! It was a public display of affection! Doesn't that mean anything to you at all?"

"It does; it does a lot," said Hermione. "But because he did that, I became a target of gossips and new insults, too, you know! And Pansy's treating me worse than ever! I'm lucky all the racket about 'Why Malfoy Openly Defended Mudblood Granger at the Three Broomsticks Scandal' died down already!"

"You so have your principles all mixed up," Ginny shook her head. "I can't believe you even lasted this long without talking to him! Don't you want to stop crying yourself to sleep every night?" Ginny looked across the field at the Slytherin stands and spotted Malfoy, slouched in his seat, staring down in a disturbed way at something in his hands. "Look at him! Doesn't that make you want to go over there and tell him how you feel?"

Hermione reluctantly looked at Malfoy, and her heart ached even more. She sighed. "Ginny, I feel terrible already. Do you have to make me feel worse? And besides, why are you pushing me to him all of a sudden? Didn't you use to disapprove of my relationship with him?"

"Because!" Ginny said in a frustrated way. "You two look so damn miserable without each other! I don't really care if he's unhappy, but I care if you're unhappy! Promise me you'll make up with him, okay?"

Before Hermione could even answer, everyone around them suddenly began shouting in protest, and reacting rather violently to something that obviously went wrong in the field. Hermione and Ginny both looked up to see what had happened, and they saw Cho Chang holding the Snitch in her hand, but she didn't look the least bit happy about it. In fact, she was frowning and reasoning mildly with somebody.

It was Harry.

They were facing each other on their broomsticks, high up in the air, arguing softly so that their fast gathering teammates wouldn't hear. The Gryffindors in the stands were still going crazy in protest, but it was too late. Ravenclaw had won, one hundred ninety to eighty.

"What happened?" Hermione asked Ginny, when all of a sudden Ron came pushing his way towards them from Dean and Seamus' seats. "Can you believe it?" Ron complained in disbelief. "Harry let Cho get the Snitch!"

"What?"

"Right in the middle of the battle! Harry pulled his broom up just when they were both getting close to the Snitch! Cho caught it unknowingly, and now she's calling for a rematch!" Ron explained, staring at Harry in the air, explaining something to Cho, who was obviously disapproving of what Harry had just done. "I know they're an item, but couldn't Harry leave the gentleman act for later? He should leave Quidditch out of their relationship!"

"I don't believe it," Ginny said, as the teams landed back down on the grounds and the audience started pouring out into the fields to join the commotion with Madam Hooch.

Hermione, however, was distractedly staring at something else. Malfoy had sprung from his seat and had started leaving the stands…and the Quidditch field. He was heading back to the castle alone in a hurry.

Hermione stared after him in curiosity and concern. Where could he possibly be going?

And, as the official announcement declared Ravenclaw as the winner, Hermione felt that whatever was going on with Malfoy was not good at all.

***

Malfoy raised the letter in his hand and showed it to his father. "I got your damn memo. What the hell did I do wrong this time?"

"My word…a mighty bitter greeting you've got there," Lucius sneered, stepping closer to Malfoy behind Hagrid's empty hut. "Certainly you don't—"

"I'm so sick of these warming up sentences of yours, father. Stop running me around and get to the point. I know I'm going to get the Cruciatus Curse anytime soon, anyway, so you might as well not prolong this damn torture with your fancy words and get this over with," Malfoy said irritably, gathering up all the strength he could muster in case Lucius did curse him straight on.

Lucius smiled. "Impressive. Very impressive indeed. I suppose the years of, ah, training have finally made you a man. I admire your guts to say that to my face. You never were the type to face your fears head-on, Draco. You always put on a mask of intimidation or of indifference to everyone, and if you feel challenged, you use your witty mouth. Isn't that true with Potter?"

"Leave damn Potter the hell out of this," Malfoy frowned ever deeper.

"Temper, temper! I merely wanted to congratulate you, my boy." Lucius took out a stack of parchment from his coat pockets and handed it to Malfoy. "Your professors have praised you in front of me. I must say that I find your work…satisfactory."

Malfoy took his test papers from his father and stared down at his score. Top marks. He frowned. He should've known that his father would never be contented, no matter how hard he had tried. To his father, it was simply "satisfactory". It was stupid to believe that he would ever be proud of his son.

Malfoy gritted his teeth to hide his anger and looked away. "If that's all you came for, then I don't think I have any reason to stay any longer. " And he began to leave, but Lucius held his arm back.

"Wait a moment, dear Draco. There is something far more important than this."

Malfoy jerked his arm away from his hold. "Then you should have told me sooner."

Lucius narrowed his eyes at him, losing the amused façade. "I have been telling you for months, and yet you stubbornly refuse to listen." He pointed to his own left arm. "Have you or have you not finished your final task yet?"

"…" Malfoy looked down angrily, clenching his fist. He knew he was defeated when it came to this. He knew he was prolonging it; he didn't seem to want to do it. He wanted to change his mind completely, but he couldn't. He wasn't allowed to.

"I'm tired of this cat-and-mouse game you're playing, boy," Lucius said in a voice of deathly calm. "You've delayed all this for far too long. I'm going to have to fix this for you, and a fine set-up I will make. You are to accomplish this task as soon as I finish setting it up for you, do you understand?"

This was it. Malfoy knew he couldn't dodge it at all. There was no other way out. He was trapped. He would just have to go through with it, whether he liked it or not. And he reluctantly nodded.

Lucius' eyes flashed threateningly at him, and he immediately left without saying anything more, leaving Malfoy feeling like his life had just ended. He couldn't possibly do what was being asked of him…but he had no other choice.

Damn it! He thought furiously, smashing his fist forcefully against the wall of Hagrid's hut. As he fought the angry tears that were prickling his eyes, he knew that he wanted to die right then.

***

"What in bloody hell were you thinking, Harry?"

"—the Snitch isn't something you can just give away—"

"—we've won against Hufflepuff but if Ravenclaw wins over Slytherin—"

"—is Cho really that beautiful?"

"—what if we never make it to the finals—"

"—Malfoy's face will be all over the Cup—"

"—is Cho really that beautiful???"

"People, people!!! Calm down!" Hermione had gotten on top of a table in the common room that night, waving her hands around for all her Housemates to pipe down. She looked pitifully at Harry, who had covered his eyes with one hand exasperatedly. He was slouched on one of the couches, trying to be oblivious to all the complaints that have been ranting in his head since he got back from the game.

"Have you all gone nuts? There are a lot of things going on with Harry right now! Is it really good to bombard him with all of your complaints? Can you not try to understand what Harry's been going through?" Hermione said, as the students quieted down. She sighed. "Now, I know you all wanted Gryffindor to win today. But we have to take into consideration Harry's choice. I don't really know why Harry did what he did out there—I'm not so sure about the reason—but I do know that this is all for the best, because Harry has never done anything that wouldn't be for the good of Gryffindor."

At the sudden silence, and at Hermione's persuasive words, Ron grinned and felt a sudden rush of courage. He stood up on the table beside Hermione as well. "She's right! So I suggest you all go back to whatever you're doing with your lives and leave Harry be," he said smugly, and the students grumpily went back to their own businesses, whispering rapidly to each other. Ron grinned in triumph. "I'm so good, aren't I?" he said to Hermione, who rolled her eyes and climbed down the table, sitting beside a very distraught Harry.

"Harry, are you okay? It's over now," she said softly, poking his arm. Harry lifted his hand from his closed eyes and sighed as he looked at Hermione. "Thank you," he muttered.

Ron hopped down the table and joined them. "So, why did you let Cho take the Snitch? It's not just because she's—you know—special to you, is it?"

"It's the letter," Harry replied. "The letter I read to you at Hogsmeade? It said that I or the people around me are at stake. I sort of thought that if in case anything ever happened to me, at least I had made Cho happy."

"Oh, and make us unhappy? And Hermione actually said that whatever your reason was, it was for the good of Gryffindor. Hey!" Ron frowned at Hermione, who had nudged him painfully.

"Harry, no offense or anything, but I don't think letting her win can make her happier than knowing she'd lost but had done her best," Hermione argued. "Besides, don't you think you're taking that letter too seriously? I mean, we don't even know if it truly is from Godric Gryffindor. And he was old then. He may not be thinking straight when he wrote that."

"You can never take anything too seriously, Hermione," said Harry. "Not when Voldemort's back in power." He rose from his seat, looking even more exhausted, and went straight up to the dormitory without another word.

"What's with him?" Ron asked, staring after him. "It's just a lousy letter. I'd be worried if something else came up, like another sign or something. But honestly, what harm can a letter do?"

Hermione shrugged. "I do have a feeling there's something Harry's not telling us, you know," she said, but felt guilty as soon as she did, knowing she herself was keeping a secret—particularly a Malfoy-related one. She pushed the thought out of her head and tried to focus on her friend. "Do you notice how he always looks like he's not getting enough sleep? And how strained he always looks?"

"He does tend to be fidgety in the morning…and he usually looks drained of all his energy…but I always thought that was because of Cho," Ron countered.

"I know having a steady relationship can be very stressful," Hermione said, speaking from experience. "But not to the extent that one would be so…restless all the time. He looks so disturbed."

"It's You-Know-Who," said Ron, swallowing heavily. "Maybe You-Know-Who's made an appearance to Harry and he doesn't want to tell us because we might freak out. Or maybe his scar hurt again."

Hermione sighed. "I know Harry's acting weird and all, but I don't think he'd be that secretive. He'd tell us right away if ever You-Know-Who is involved." She rose form her seat, yawning. "Anyway, let's not talk about it right now. I'm too tired to discuss this—I'll see you in the morning." And she made her way towards the dormitory as well.

She didn't really know what was up with Harry, but all she knew was that she, too, needed to get some rest. All the thinking, about Harry and Malfoy, was making her head hurt.

***

Malfoy clutched the handle of his broomstick tighter, shivering at the heavy snow beating down on him and the chilly breeze hitting his face. He tried to keep the cold out of his mind and focus on what he was about to do. He rose higher on his broomstick, going against the direction of the wind, and finally spotted what he was looking for in the dark winter night.

"Nox," he whispered, turning out the light on his wand. He leaned closer to the window he was hovering beside, and wiped a circular spot of the snow on it with his gloved hand. He peeked through the glass and smiled. "Alohomora," he pointed to the lock on the window and it burst open, allowing him to enter that particular window of the Gryffindor Tower. He quickly closed the windows again as soon as he stepped inside the room, seeing that the sleeping figure on the wide bed had stirred because of the draft that he'd brought in.

He dusted off the snow on his coat, and leaned his broomstick on the wall near the window. Feeling the sudden warmth of the room, he realized that it was bewitched to keep the temperature warm inside, almost as warm as a summer night. He took off his coat and laid it as a heap against his broomstick, and, taking a deep breath, he cautiously approached the bed.

Hermione was sleeping peacefully on it, her brown hair spread out gloriously over the pillows. Malfoy watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, and he blushed as soon as he realized that she wasn't wearing anything underneath the satin sheets that were covering her body. No wonder she had cast a Heating Charm on the room.

Malfoy carefully sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at Hermione's delicate face, and at how the lampshade's glow reflected wondrously on her shiny tresses and illuminated every curve of her face. He ungloved one hand and tentatively reached out to touch her cheek. Her softness had never been more breathtaking, and all he could think of was, Damn, she's beautiful.

"Hey," he whispered to her, although very aware that she could not hear him. "I…don't even know why I'm here tonight; I just want to say I'm sorry for all the wrong things I ever did to you in the past…words can never tell how I really regret them all…so I can't blame you for hating me, and I don't expect you to forgive me, either. I just want to say I'm sorry. And apologize for whatever it is that I did to make you avoid me recently. I know I screwed up again big time, just like I always do. I'm sorry, Hermione…" he paused and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.

"It's been more than a month since I ever got to speak to you…or touch you…or even see you up close…and I really…" he brushed a strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "I really miss you, Hermione…you probably don't feel the same way—and I don't really see why you should because what's there to miss in me anyway? But I just want you to know that I do miss you, and I just wish—" He trailed off, quickly withdrawing his hand. She had stirred yet again, and had surprisingly turned to face him. But, of course, she was still asleep. The covers on her shifted a bit, and revealed a large portion of her bare back.

His trembling hands slowly reached out to touch her—because god, he wanted to feel her again after such a long time—but as soon as his hand came close, he stopped. And all of a sudden he felt like he didn't want to touch her like this, not when she didn't want to. He knew she probably didn't want this, and he respected that. He could very well take advantage of this situation—she was right there in front of him and there was no one else around—but he knew it wasn't right. In fact, the thought of doing such a thing made him sick to his stomach. He cared for her; he darn right cared for her so much…

And then he finally accepted it—he loved her.

Everything he had been fighting off suddenly came crashing down on him, and he hated the feeling of having to give in. He was mad at himself for being stupid enough not to see this coming. He was oblivious; he should've known this would happen. He should've avoided it. He should've stopped while he had the chance. He shouldn't have given in to his emotions long ago. He shouldn't have let her get too close to him.

But now that it was too late, he knew he had no other choice. He had no more way out. It was forbidden. And it was going to be a long, hard road from here.

Helpless tears began to well up in his eyes, as he angrily tried to blink them away. How could he have been so narrow-minded? How could he have been so naive? He couldn't fight this off—he loved her. He really did. How could he go on with his tasks knowing how he felt for her? He knew he would have to abandon one or the other. But what? And, more importantly, how?

He swallowed heavily and took a deep breath, trying not to think about it for now, as silent tears continued to trickle from his eyes. "You know what?" He continued to her, trying to smile. "Snape gave me another test a couple of weeks back. And guess what," he reached into his pockets and took out the crumpled papers, trying to show it to her. "I passed. Full marks. Thanks for everything, Hermione. My father wasn't really all that thrilled, but…" He reached out and tugged at her blankets, covering her exposed back. "I hope you are. It would really mean a lot to me. That's all I need to know."

He continued gazing at her for a while, all their memories together flashing vaguely across his eyes. Each memory was more painful than the last, because he knew he probably wouldn't get the chance to have them again.

He sighed and roughly wiped the tears off his face, cursing himself for being so faint-hearted. He tucked his test papers back into his pockets and stood up. "I guess I better get going. I mean, I know you need your rest, and you surely don't need me disturbing you like this," he chuckled softly, looking down at her serene form. "The holidays are fast approaching; I'll be going back to the Manor soon and—" he stopped himself. He didn't really want to tell her everything just yet, not even in her sleep. He couldn't bear it. "But…before all that, I just…I just wish you'd talk to me, Hermione. It's been a really long while, and I…I truly miss you."

At that, he spun around and picked up his coat and broomstick, choosing not to look back and hoping against hope that she heard everything he had just said.

But she didn't.

Halu!!!! I'm sorry, really really sorry!!! This is all I have for now, I've been really busy with school and stuff, you guys have no idea how many projects we have due. It stinks!!!!! It's student abuse!!! We're being pushed beyond our limitations!!! We really should be starting a protest already:D Anyway, I'm really, really sorry for keeping you all waiting…I know this chapter doesn't amount to much, but pleeeeeeeeeease understand that I barely have any spare time these days…what with the upcoming periodical exams and everything…everywhere I look there's always a project or a deadline smacking me right in the face. Sigh…………………

Anyways, please forgive me!!! I kept you guys waiting for too long but this is really all I have for now. I promise I'll make it up next time, okay? I'm really sorry…thank you soooooooo very much for sticking to me!!! I love your reviews!!! Please keep them coming so that I'll know what to make of my fic!!!

P.S.

I'll try to steam up Draco and Hermione's intimate moments a bit next time…Sorry to keep you waiting!!! Please bear with me and keep reviewing! :D Love you all :D