Power of Dance

Chapter 9

Conversations

(A/N:: Standard disclaimer applies)

Previously: "Hermione please," his eyes were wounded.  "Please we need to talk."

My drew a deep breath and looked at the sleeping Ron.  Knew she didn't need him waking up as well.

"Harry, I don't have the strength for this shit right now.  I'm tired, its been a very long day and--"

"Please this bloody well can't wait."  She felt her resolve weaken, after Drake-

Draco

All she wanted to do was sleep.

"I am going to change, if you follow I won't try to stop you."  She walked past him, pulling her heavy up, revealing the cut away back of her top and the tattoo between well-defined shoulder blades.  Harry's heart caught at the sight of the tattoo. It was their last bonding attempt before things fell apart.  He placed a hand over his arm, felt warmth radiating from the wizard tattoo.  He was distracted from his melancholy memories by the sight of Hermione's body so prominently on display, as she walked through the painting's doorway.  Her tiny frame was no longer covered in oversized jumpers, knee lengths skirts, and baggy pants.

Now her short legs were made longer by the shiny black of vinyl pants, grommets down the seam showing her pale skin.  The plastic fabric hugged her back end, emphasizing the curve of her hips, the etherealness of pale skin.  Her top was a black lace corset top ligting her high breasts, tucking in an already tiny waist.  It cut in the back, held together by an erotic crisscrossing of lace ties.  Harry's gorge rose at the thought of anyone looking at Hermione in this get-up.  He was glad Ron missed it, he would be unable to keep in the rage at the sight of their friends body.  He tried to rearrange his broken thoughts, to tell her he was sorry, that he loved her and hoped that with time she would forgive him.

Them

The instant she took off her corset top his thoughts shattered again.  Hermione reached behind her and pulled the tie of her top and allowed it to slip to the floor.  She reveled in the feeling of cool air on her heated skin and turned towards her closet.  She bent and unbuttoned the vinyl pant, slipping them down her legs, leaving her in the room, wearing a simple pair of black lace panties unconcerned with Harry's presence.

He was shocked; the Hermione he knew would never walk around in front of a man with no cloths.  The Hermione he knew wouldn't wear such suggestive cloths.

"Where were you tonight?"  He kept his eyes on the carpet, watching the vinyl pants as though they were going to rise up and attack him.

"I was dancing."

Dancing

Harry felt anger rise, they had spent the whole day wondering, waiting, worrying about her.  She went--

She went dancing

She wasn't Hermione anymore.  It was as though she was lost under the vinyl, lace and eyeliner.  He wondered if she even wanted to be found.

If he could bring her back.  If she should be brought back.

"Where is Hermion under all of this?"  Harry gestured at the discarded cloths on the floor.  "Under the vinyl and the tiny tops, where did my best friend go?"

"She died Harry.  She died a slow and painful death ending in a wave of flames."  Harry shook his head, disagreeing; he had to make her understand.  He opened his mouth and shut it again as she shook her head it him sadly.  She pulled a long sleeved tee shirt on over tiny frame.  Harry winced as he saw ribs shift under thin pale skin.

She was still too skinny.

"Hermione began to die the day the only thing she felt like she could control was her weight.  For an anal obsessive compulsive, the feeling that she had no control, no way to help you or Ron when the Death Eaters held you captive, was horrible, she had to control something.  She died when you got girlfriends and left her alone.  When you turned away from her.  When her parents died and all she received from her best friends was a distracted sympathetic pat on the back.  She died when she realized her ex-best friends ran away from the safety of the castle to battle Voldemort and didn't want her help.  She died that night in the cave watching Ron's broken body struggle to stay alive.  She died in a wave of fire and screams.

"There is nothing left of Hermione Granger.  There is only My."  She drew a deep breath and all around them the candles and the fire in the hearth went dead.   "My is all that's left."  Harry walked towards the sound  of voice, eyes slowly adjusting to the blackness only broken by the predawn light filtering into the room.

"Who is My?"  His voice was rough as he tried to overcome the pain he felt at every word she had spoken.

"My is all that's left.  The shell that's struggling not to crumble, trying to talk louder, dance harder.  Trying to drive away the voices."  Harry closed his eyes and felt tears roll down his cheeks.  Her pain filled the room, the guilt and anger, confusion and anguish so strong it left the taste of despair on Harry's tongue.

A tiny scratch at the back of his mind crew his attention, he couldn't identify it.  He inhaled and released the shields around his mind.

The room disappeared.

HE saw Hermione running fingers over exposed ribs and feeling fat.  Saw her left on the outside of an insurmountable wall and he and Ron bonded over girls and teenage lust.  Watched as she stood alone at her parent's grave, a white daisy in her hand.  The chirping of birds became a cold imperious laughter of Voldemort as a bleeding Ron lay at his feet. He felt her fear for them.  He watched a curse hit himself in the back he felt her anger.  He felt a wave of red heat curl around her, and felt the almost maternal anger grow to rage.  He watched as she challenged the Death Eaters and felt the fire flow from her fingertips.  Heard the screams and the pleas for mercy.  He heard Malfoy's cry.

And then there was black.

When he woke up a beam of orange light reflected into his eyes.

Sitting up quickly he looked around.  Curled up in a ball on the bed was Hermione, her eyes wide open, expression dead.

"I told you Hermione was dead.  She died in a wave of flames.  When did you learn legilimency?  It isn't polite to rape someone's mind without permission."  She pulled her knees closer to her chest, and moved her head to a place on the pillow that wasn't soaked in salty tears.

Harry walked closer to her bed and stopped at the edge.  "I learned legilimency this summer at 12 Grimmuald Place, with Snape."  He reached out a hand and brushed back a lock of hair, then climbed onto the bed with her, fitting his long body against hers.  He wrapped an arm around her waist pulling her closer.  The heat she emitted wasn't normal, but it was welcome.  The memories she lived with everyday chilled Harry to the core.  "I don't care about manners.  I love you too much to lose you.  Hermione went away because of stupidity.  I'll get to know My and I refuse to loose her as well."  He let her feel his tears and pressed his chin into the top of her head.  "I'll never loose her."  Together, drained of emotions, brown and green eyes closed, and they slept.

*~*~*

"They aren't going to classes today are they Albus?"

"No Minerva they aren't.  There is more to the story and there is more healing to be done.  Alert the teachers, and excuse them this is important, I refuse to allow a brilliant witch to loose everything to Voldemort after he is dead.  The relationship between Harry and Miss Granger must be repaired.  Oh, and excuse Mr. Weasly as well.  I feel this will be resolved today."

"Of course Albus."

*~*~*

The two people woke up well after breakfast and the first two classes were finished.  My felt his breath warm and comforting on her neck.  Reluctant to leave the comfort of Harry's warmth, My knew she had to, had to make him leave before he broke through her shields.  She pulled away and walked to her wardrobe, putting on faded jeans and a pale yellow jumper.

"My?"  Harry's tentative voice startled her, making her spin in the direction of the voice.  All around the room things caught fire.  The fire in the hearth, and all the candles burst into an intense light, and tears spilled from My's eyes.  "Oh shit."  He walked over to the crying girl and wrapped his arms around her.  "We will figure this out My.  I swear it."  Harry felt her relax in his arms; he could feel the tension in her body leave the room.

"Oh gods Harry, I am not strong enough for this.  My shields are shattered and I don't know if they can be repaired.  First last night, and then the fire."  My's eyes filled with tears and she sank to the floor.  Harry watched as his best friend focused on a sound only she could hear.  He watched her body relax and her spine stiffen and straighten.  She stood up, already Harry began to feel nervous.

"What are you doing here Harry?"  She walked around the room, picking up the scattered cloths she had thrown on the floor.  "I don't need you anymore.  I don't need anyone."  Her heart ached as a pair of silver eyes filled her mind.  "Please leave me alone."

Harry's heart clenched in his chest.  "What about last night?  I saw how much you needed us.  You need us as much as we need you."  He inhaled, allowing some of his tightly controlled emotions free.  "And we do need you.  Not to do our homework or to be our mother but we need your company.  You are the better half, the heart of two different people and we've gone crazy without you."  He paced around the room, back and forth, keeping Hermione from reaching the room and escaping into the castle.  "I saw you lay the robe over Ron, I saw the tenderness in your face, even if you didn't know that it was there.  Did you see the tears on his cheeks?  He cries himself to sleep at night.  He's been doing it since you disappeared.  At first it was guilt that you had to save us."  He narrowed his eyes at the girl in front of him.  "He turned the crystal cave into his own personal mistake.  Every thing was his fault.  It took his almost two months to accept that it wasn't.  But he missed you.  Needed you.  The Weasley's need you.  Fred anf George closed WWW for a month combing England for you.  Molly cried for a week and couldn't leave her bed.  McGonagall cancelled her sixth year exams, the idea of you not being there to ace them was to painful for her.  You turned the entire wizarding world on its axis, with your deeds and your disappearence.  You were inducted into the order of Merlin.  First Class."

My turned away from him.  Refusing to allow him to see the tears spilling down her cheeks.

"So what Harry?  Why does it matter?  I was alone in the hospital wing when I woke up, with fire scorched retinas and screams in my ears.  I was alone.  You and Ron abandoned me.  I feel badly for the pain Mrs. Weasley experienced, but pity for Ron?  I refuse.  It has taken me months of work to get to a place where I can simply exist.  To talk, to eat, to breathe, to dance."

"Dance?"

"Yes Harry, dance, the only thing keeping me sane.  The music, the beat.  I can step outside of my self, away from the pleading voices and I become something else.  Something bigger.  Dance saved me from killing myself.  From stepping off the roof of my apartment building or walking into traffic.  Dance is all that I had, all I wanted to think about."

"That's a lie."  She spun to face him, saw him unbutton his dress shirt.  "You thought of us.  Of me at least once."  He showed the shirt she constructed for him.  "I ran a diagnostic spell on it, I know the work that went into it, the strength that you expended to make it.  Admit it.  You thought about me, about us, about my safety."

"It almost killed me Harry."  She looked away ashamed to look at him.  "Channeling my magic and controlling it hasn't ever been this hard even before I knew I was a witch it was easy.  Now I fear to shrink something, it might blow up.  Making your shirt almost killed me, and I would have welcomed death.  Magic was my joy growing up, now I can't do it, and dance is all that I have left."  She paced around him, allowing herself to talk.  To tell him exactly how she felt.  What was happening to her.

"I was in New York with my hideous second cousins, who only took me in for a possible inheritance from my dead parents.  They never said anything but derogatory and hurtful things about me and my parents.  But I wasn't alone.  Oh no.  I carry the dying voices of 70 evil evil evil people.  They drive me, taunt me, and torment me.  Make me as low as I belong.  Now those voices are all I have left.  I spent the worst months of my life alone except for those voices.

"I was left all alone by you, by Ron, by my parents, Dumbledore, the Weasley's.  I was alone and not a single attempt to find me was made."

"That's shit Hermione."  Harry began to pace around the room once again.  "We never tried to find you?  You ran away in the middle of the night, like a thief.  Bill and Charlie had to hold Ron in his hospital bed when he found out you were gone.  Gred and Forge checked every small village you had ever touched.

"Ron wrote a letter to you every day that you were gone, sending it into the ether, hoping the owl would find you.  The only one who knew where you were was Dumbledore and he flat out refused to tell me.  To tell us.

'It is safer for her to be gone Harry.'

"I went to him every day.  Begging him to let me find you.  My hero sense was on fire.  I needed to find you, help you.  I knew I would never repay the life debt that I owed you, that the whole wizard world owes you, but I still needed to help you.  He refused to tell me.

'I'll keep her safe Mr. Potter.  She is doing well.'

"As the summer progressed I learned occulemency and legilimency since you told me to.  It kept me closer to you.  I learned to scry for you.  I passed my eye over all of England.  You where nowhere.  Ron kept on writing letters, everyday.  And when the owls returned them, unopened, he kept them.  Kept them in a box to give you the next time he saw you again."

"I don't believe you."  Her voice was a whisper.  For the first time in months the voices of the dead were silenced by the sounds of childish laughter, as memories of Ron and Harry ran through her mind.  "Ron wouldn't have time to write to me each day.  Morag took up all his time, just like Hannah took up yours."

"Hermione I love you dearly, but by the end of sixth year you were so consumed by your pain, school, exercise and starving yourself, you didn't notice what was going on around you.  Ron and Morag broke up the day after you found out about your parents died.  He wanted to be free to help you.  And you didn't even feel him holding your hand as you cried.  And Hannah and I?  We broke up well before your parents, you just never found out.

"You say you were all alone?  Who's arms do you think held you when you had nightmares?  Told Dumbledore about a nutritionist to help you?  Has placed fresh flowers on your parent's grave every week since it happened?  We have.  We love you.  You complete us and I refuse to let you go."

"I'm sorry Harry, Hermione is gone.  Tell Ron he was writing to a dead woman."

Harry felt ill.  He still couldn't get through to her.  She didn't understand and he had no more words.

"Tell him your self Hermione.  After you read these.  Accio letters I can't handle this anymore."  Harry flung open the portrait door in time to catch a heavy box.  Placing it in My's arms he turned and faced the door.  "I love you Hermione Granger.  I just hope you realize that eventually."  He walked out, back stiff.

Hermione sank to the floor and opened the box, unsure of what she would find.

*~*~*

"Harry?"  Ron's voice broke through the self-pity, anger, and self-loathing that Harry was swimming in.  The depth of his best friends pain overwhelmed him.  He was furious at her refusal to accept their love and apologies, and disgusted by the need he had for her to forgive him.

"She's fucked up Ron."  The lanky redhead sank into a chair across from the dark haired youth.  "It was worse than the intervention, worse than her breakdown at her parents death.  She claims Hermione is dead."  His voice grew quiet, and he rested his head in his hand, the other one running over a pale scar.  "She says Hermione is dead, and I fear she might be right."

"Harry."  Ron's deep voice was worried, his best friend kept talking, voice monotone and shocked.

"What damage happens to a person when you command a fire that kills seventy people?"

"It saved us Harry."

"Were we worth it?  Were we worth the sanity and soul of our best friend?  She was the closest thing I have to a family, my surrogate sister."

Ron's voice was quiet.  "No, my life isn't worth hers.  I just hope she believes me.  But I'll wait for her to come to me."  Ron stood up and walked over to the phoenix painting and sat on the floor.

Waiting.

*~*~*

Hermione sat on the floor in her room, tears streaming down her face.  All around her letters.

Letters from Fred and George, from Ginny, from Harry, but mostly from Ron.

A letter for everyday that she was gone.

A letter simply explaining his day.  Explaining how he felt.  Explaining how much he missed her.

May 25

Dear Hermione--

School is nearly over and things a dreadfully dull without you.  I have already begun to prepare for exams, without you here to pester us about studying I find that I still hear you telling me to study, to color code all of my notes.  You're in my head, and I miss the real you so much I have to listen to the inner Hermione.  I might actually pass potions this year.  I love you and miss you.

Ron

June 12

Hermione--

Neville blew up another cauldron today during the potions final.  Snape turned purple with pink hearts.  I think Neville did it on purpose.  It was the first real laugh Gryffindor had since you left.  We all miss you and wish that you would return.

Ron

July 21

Dear Hermione--

I cleaned the burrow today, from top to bottom.  Unknown to us, Harry secretly paid for a total remodel of our home.  I was so mad I gave him a black eye, but Mum was so happy I couldn't stay angry for long.  Anyway, the stairs don't creak and it no longer looks like it's going to fall down.  I wish you could see it.  I miss you.

Ron

August 30

Hermione--

I packed for school today.  My NEWT prep books are tucked away at the bottom where no one else can see them.  Nobody knows where you are except Dumbledore.  I asked but he would tell me where you where, not even so you could get my letters.  I wish you would come back.  Your friends don't care about the Crystal Cave.  You remember us… the shirt you sent Harry was amazing.  But you would have been a better present.

Love--Ron

August 30

Who the hell do you think you are?  My heart hurts waiting for you.  Yes I hurt you I don't deserve you.  You ought to have brilliant friends that you can intellectualize with.  But you have me.  You saved me.  I need you back again.  Where the hell are you?  I don't think that I can live you gone much longer.  Please

Please

Please

Please come back to me.

Ron.

PS-- This is my last letter, after this I realize that if I can't convince you to forgive me I am not worthy of the friendship that you lay at my feet in first year.

I guess this letter is goodbye.

My's throat closed with pain.  There was a letter for everyday; each one telling about his day, about he loved her, about how he needed her to be ok.  And then the last one.

An ultimatum.

It was her choice.

And she knew what she had to do.  What she had to choose.

*~*~*

Ron felt the portrait swing open, and jumped to his feet.  Standing there the two friends waited, Ron was anxious, his 6'3 frame seemed to tower above Harry's compact 5'10 body as he giggled his legs, tapped his foot.

From the portrait walked Hermione, her fire kissed hair in a plait hanging in a heavy rope down her back.  She looked up into Ron's blue eyes and saw herself in the tears in his eyes.

"Ron" Her voice was soft.  "I wish I had gotten your letters before.  Especially the last one."  She walked forward and wrapped her arms around his waist tears flowed down her cheeks.

Harry walked closer and she pulled him in as well.  They stood together, a close bond that was weakened but not broken.

The Golden Trio reunited.

 As she felt the strong arms around her she wondered.  Maybe things might be all right after all.

*~*~*

"Are they going to come to dinner Albus?"

"I hope so, however, if things get to uncomfortable, I may have to step in with an announcement."

"Alright Albus, see you at dinner."

*~*~*

My felt safe.  For the first time in months, she felt safe.  Ron's lively discourse on the pros and cons of the Hogwarts library cataloguing system made her laugh.  It also showed her how much her friends had grown up.

She felt Harry slip an arm around her shoulder while Ron placed her arm in his.  Then she heard it, the sounds of children heading to dinner.  Panic gripped her, her feet stopped and she felt the blood leave her face.

"Hermione."  Harry's voice broke through her panic.  "We won't let any one hurt you."

She looked both boys in their eyes and whispered, "Just don't let me hurt them."  Above her head the young men met eyes and silently agreed to her request.

Flanking her, protecting her from curious eyes.  They walked into the Great Hall, Ron's bawdy story about Fred and George's twenty first birthdays, was drowned out by the curious whispers and speculations. 

As they approached the Slytherin table My felt a pair of empty gray eyes peer into her, even as she felt Harry and Ron tighten their grip.  She could feel hostile eyes glare at her, judge her.

She straightened

Shrugged off her protectors and stayed strong. 

Gray eyes met amber and the world stopped.

Not a single word was exchanged but the school felt the impact of the emotional storm that lay beneath the surface of the staring contest between mudblood and Malfoy.

My knew that she had one more conversation to conduct before she could sleep, but she knew it wouldn't happen, now that he knew this was as close as she would ever get.  Ron and Harry's gentle push broke her gaze and she was led to the silent Gryffindor table.

*~*~*

Drake watched her walk in.  Felt his blood heat at the familiar way Potter was touching her.  It was as though My was gone, and the limpid dependant Hermione was all that was left.

All around him the Slytherins glared at the bitch that was the cause of all their problems.  He watched as their words reached her.

As she stiffened.

Shrugged off her bodyguards and stared.

He met her eyes and emotions overwhelmed him.

Gray to amber,

He could have stayed locked in her eyes forever.  He felt let down as the boy-dunder broke her gaze and ushered her to the waiting Gryffindor students.

"Malfoy.  Congratulations on scaring the shit out of her."  Zabini's voice echoed through Drake's mind.  He shrugged off a familiar hand on his shoulder.

He knew it wasn't over.

They still had a conversation to conduct.

His eyes bore into her back. 

He watched as one by one the people that had abandoned her welcomed her back.  It was a silent and quasi-respectful hugs.

He glared.

Yet it wasn't over.

He might not be able to have her, but My still belonged to him.  Just like he belonged to her.

He knew it

She knew it.

*~*~*

"Things are going well Minerva."

"I hope you're right sir."

"Of course he is correct Professor, their eyes have been connected since she arrived with her bodyguards in tow.  They will not be able to stay away."

"Thank you for your confidence Severus."

"Your welcome sir," the silky voice, smug.

*~*~*

Harry watched her like a hawk, watched her move, her eat, her twitch.  He watched her greet her old friends with widened fearful eyes.  Watched her as she tried to ignore the curious stares.  Ignored the protective glares of Ron and Ginny, the outright hostility towards other tables when they attempted to approach her.  The Gryffindors were there for her.  Attempted to protect her from curious eyes.

He leaned close to her ear; he didn't want anyone else to hear.

""My, dinner is ending soon.  In the halls we can't protect you.  Slip out before people notice."  She looked at him, panic warring with the anger at her weakness.

"I don't need you to protect me Harry."  Despite her words she rose and slipped out of the hall.

Her head ached.  She needed the dance.  The voices of Harry and Ron, the other Gryffindors and even Drake's hurt voice were battling with the cries of the death eaters.

She walked through the halls towards her room, cataloguing the clubs she knew of in London.  She needed the dance.  Needed to feel the embrace of the beat.

She hurried to her room, pulled on a simple black skirt and glam top, the black set in contrast with the red sparkles.  She pulled her heavy hair back into a sleek plait.  After carefully applying her make-up she closed the door to her room, and quietly slipped past her fellow dorm mates.  Walking down the empty halls she tried to focus on the fact Harry and Ron and herself were reunited.  They were going to work through everything.

She kept repeating Harry's works over and over again, even as she muttered the portal spell, as she walked through London streets in sling back red heels.

"We'll figure everything out Hermione."

Even his words disappeared as she approached Green light.  The heavy techno music seeped through closed doors. It was a Tuesday night, and she breezed through the glaring doorman into the familiar environment.

The haze of blue smoke and the echoing beat was so familiar, so comforting.

My took to the floor, tried to allow the music to transport her: to carry her to a place beyond the crystal cave, beyond Hogwarts, beyond her problems.

 And yet she couldn't.

There was something missing

Someone.

Each accidental touch, every comment in her ear, every blonde haired man was him.  He refused to leave her mind.

All around her people danced, revealed in the music, alcohol, and faint smell at lust.  Yet without him she couldn't, without his hands on her hips, the warmth of his chest, and the overwhelming power of his presence she couldn't.  She wanted him next to her, but he wouldn't come.  Tonight her wouldn't come and take her away.  She was a killer, and didn't deserve to be near him.

Now--

Now he knew it as well.

He had seen her with Ron and Harry.  Had seen without a doubt that My and Hermione Granger were one and the same. 

The thought stopped her.  Were My and Hermione the same?  The bookworm and the dancer?

She didn't know.

The feeling she was being watched broke her thoughts.  The feeling of eyes boring into her back made her turn.  She looked into a corner and connected with a pair of gray eyes.

They pulled her.  Magnetically drew her to this forbidden man.

She weaved through the crowd, most moving aside, the connection between the two people so strong, they could feel the need for the amber eyed girl and slate eyed boy to be together.

*~*~*

She stepped in front of him, looking up into his hooded eyes.

"You came."  Her voice was quiet, but her still heard each word clearly as though no one was there but him.

"I couldn't stay away.  I tried to.  I sat in my room all day.  Trying to purge you from my memory.  Trying to forget how good you feel in my arms, how I feel like I knew you, even though I obviously didn't.  I tried to make myself stop loving you I can't love you.  I shouldn't be anywhere near you.  You will be the end of me."  He reached up a hand as though to touch her face, only to pull it back to his side.  "But I couldn't stay away.  At nine I felt a pull, and it just kept getting stronger.   It pulled me from my room, through the halls.  It pulled me through the streets of London to here.  To see you dancing alone."  He broke eye contact for a moment before looking back in her eyes.  "It was wrong.  I could feel your body next to me, even as I watched you, needed you.  But I can't offer anything.  Will not offer anything."

"Drake."  She voice was quiet, empty of emotion.  "I wouldn't accept anything you offered, I wouldn't deserve it."  She took his hand in hers.  "But I'll offer you something.  The dance.  It's all I have.  All that I could ever dream of offering you."

"The dance"

"Just the dance.  While we are here we are Drake and My dancing.  There is no one else.  Nothing else, nowhere else but the here and now; the dance."

He closed his eyes and nodded.

"Just the dance.  Just tonight."

Together they danced.  The instant they hit the floor problems disappeared, and the music transported them far away to a world empty of fear and pain, where only the beat and each other mattered.

*~*~*

Much to soon the music ended.

The clock had struck three, and Hermione stood again in the dark alley staring at the blank wall that would bring her back to her problems.

Drake stood at her shoulders and watched the door with her, his eyes hooded and unreadable.

She whispered the incantation and stepped through the portal, she felt him walk through behind her.  Felt him wait as she slipped a school robe on over her clothes.

She turned to walk back to Gryffindor tower, when his voice stopped her.

"My, Hermione?  Do you-- Do you hate me?"

She stopped and felt something in her soul spark.

"No I don't hate you.  I don't think I ever have.  Do you hate me?"  Her voice had gotten soft and quiet.  She waited and felt the tension in the air between them.

"Gods above help me, I know that I should curse you to the ends my days, but I can't."  She could almost feel him running fingers through his hair.  "No, No I don't hate you."  She heard him walk away, from now on, that was the end.  From now on, they were outward enemies and the spark died.

*~*~*

Wednesday night had her back in London, trying to dance with a memory when a hand grabbed her waist.

She spun and there he was, hair pulled back, eyes both angry and hooded.

"Just the dance, just tonight."

She closed her eyes, and the tension she didn't know was there relaxed, "Just the dance."

And they did, each step showed his anger and desperation.  How can anyone be needed so much?  Wanted so badly?

So it continued.  Each day she tried to make it through classes, allowed Harry and Ron to protect her from the school.  Tried to develop relationships with younger students who revered the sad eyed girl.  Yet Harry and Ron, the sweet young children, couldn't protect her from the silent and hostile Slytherin stares.  Couldn't help the hole in her heart that grew each time Malfoy stared with blank eyes as Zabini whispered poison in his ears.

Yet at night he came to her, the same words in her ear.

"Just the dance, just tonight."

Together they danced at night and in the day they were silent adversaries in a war that should have ended.

The end of the evenings went the same way.  They entered the school and he waited while she put on a robe, each night it seemed like he was waiting to ask her something. 

She changed the pattern.  On the seventeenth of November she changed it, outside, a light layer of snow covered the ground and nothing seemed to keep her warm, she had to change the pattern that was wearing away at her sanity, just like the crying voices deep in the back of her mind.

She had just pulled no her robe and she felt him turn to leave.

"Drake?"  He stopped.  "His last thoughts were of you."

"Excuse me?"

"Your father.  He called for you."  Her voice hitched.  "He called for you at the end."

"Oh."  His voice was quiet.

She couldn't resist.  She turned and stood on her toes.  She pressed soft lips to the corner of his mouth; let him inhale her sweet crisp scent.

"I'm sorry Drake."  With that she left.  Left him standing alone in an empty hallway hand on his lips, wondering how he could love someone so much that even the fact that she killed his father, aunts, uncles, cousins.

"I'm sorry too Hermione."  He closed his eyes.  "Sorry I love you to much to ever let you go."

A/N::  Thanks to everyone that reviewed, they were wonderful and that's why it took me so long to post this chapter.  It took a lot of rewriting to even get to this point and I am not totally satisfied.  If anyone can spot any truly horrible things that changing would improve, review, email, instant message me and let me know I beg you.

Also special thanks to Blue Lady 1 who's review was number 200. She got me off my ass and on to my computer to type up this chapter.

To thank all of you for waiting so long and sticking with this story Chapter ten is called Truth and all secrets are revealed.  After it, most if not all things will be understood.  Including Hermione's new power, her and Drake's connection, and Harry and Ron find out about Drake and My's relationship. 

That's next time, so review, big even numbers seem to help me write faster…wink wink

Mystykitty.