Title: And She Will Be Loved

Author Name: Melissa Spitfire

Author email: melissaspitfire at (links screw up, but this isn't meant to be one)

Category: Romance

Sub Category: Angst

Keywords: Draco Malfoy Hermione Granger Auror

Rating: R

Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, a little HBP there but I won't tell where

Summary: She never ever felt that she really belonged; never ever felt that she was really wanted. She is nothing but a shadow. But he is the ground where the shadow was cast, and it is in his deepest desires to make her see herself otherwise.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/n: Highly inspired by Maroon Five's "She Will Be Loved." So I don't suppose I should say that this is a songfic? Anyways... My first ever attempt on a Harry Potter fic, so please take this easy on me! ::grins sheepishly::

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Verse Five: Amber Cradle

It's not always rainbows and butterflies

It's compromise that moves us along

My heart is full and my door's always open

You could come anytime you want

Hermione rolled unto her side groggily, feeling extremely tired and spent. She was surprised when she felt another weight shift slightly beside her, and that was when the memory of last night came back to her.

Slowly, she sat up, pulling the black blanket up slightly, and gazed at the viridian walls across the four-poster bed. The room was dark and cold, and she was quite sure the only heat in the room emanated from Draco and her body. Her gaze lingered on a particular banner hanging on the wall, where a snake was twined around a silver sword in the heart of the black fire-breathing dragon on a white and green background. The snake kind of resembled the one in the Slytherin logo, and the dragon and the foreground pattern on the Hogwarts flag, and she guessed that it was the Malfoy crest. Her guess was verified when she saw what seemed like a cursive letter M on the hilt of the sword. She breathed deeply, inhaling the spicy and musky scent of the room, before grasping a fistful of the black satin sheets covering their naked bodies.

Hermione was the most levelheaded Gryffindor. In all her years in Hogwarts, she had never done anything without planning first. She had always made sound decisions, which earned her the Head Girl position, and she always anticipated events even when Harry and Ron always dove into a situation with little or no knowledge of the details at all. She knew she was such a conventional geek, and that she was the stick-to-the-rules-and-you'll-be-fine student who felt horrible every time she broke the rules, but this time, it was as if she purposefully broke the rules.

The funny thing is, she felt good about it.

She had been having lurid and grave thoughts about her friendship with Ron and Harry falling apart, yet here she was, sitting on the bed at the center of one of the biggest rooms in the Malfoy Manor with just half of the sheets covering her naked body, staring at the Slytherin-ny walls, and befriending of all people, the supposed-to-be arch-enemy of their Triad. Just how in seven bloody hells would the world take it?

Hermione shifted slightly to see if he was awake, and her heart broke silently at the sight of the always-proud Slytherin King sleeping comfortably on his sanctuary. He was snoring slightly, his silver hair a beautiful mess against the obsidian pillows, his skin just a shade above his always deathly pale hue, and the tense lines on his face that knew only how to scowl and to sneer were gone. He looked just like a baby -- pure, innocent, defenseless and harmless... But Hermione knew that he was anything but those.

She marveled at how such a person almost everyone considered as despicable could look so peaceful in his slumber. He was a cold, insensitive, pompous pain-in-the-arse prick who took delight in other people's demise. But for the past few weeks, her firm resolve about him suddenly crumbled into smithereens. It was like he was a new person all in all...

... And no matter what she did, she felt that she was being drawn towards him.

Befriending Draco Malfoy was something quite dangerous, considering she is a third of the Golden Gryffindor Trio. And to have something much more than that with him...

... Since when did she start taking into consideration that she and Malfoy had something aside from rivalry?

Hermione cursed softly. How could someone she thought she knew all too well like him be such an enigma suddenly? She reached out to tuck an offending silvery-white lock on his face, the flats of her fingers lightly tracing the contours of his face, unconsciously memorizing it before reluctantly leaving it. She felt like all the lessons she learned in Hogwarts were of no use, not even the rationalizing she always did gave her a plausible answer to the burning questions he always left her. It was like facing a hundred Professor Snapes and McGonagalls who asked different questions at the same time, or having all the first years from all the houses come ask for her help in going to different parts of the Hogwarts castle all at the same time. Both were difficult tasks, and thankfully, she only had to deal with half the stress of each situation (first being that Snape's inquiries proved to be quite a show for her classmates in their NEWT's, and the second having half of the first years seeking out for her every now and then to ask for the Head Girl's help). She felt very weary whenever she tried to solve so much questions from different persons; it felt like that and more when it came to a conundrum called Draco Malfoy. Why was she feeling confused about him all of a sudden?

A tear discreetly trickled down her cheeks without her noticing it, and she heaved a breath before slipping out of the bed. She began walking towards her discarded cloak and draping it around her, Hermione stealthily walked towards the bathroom. She figured she'd shower herself clean first, before heading back to her flat.

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She didn't see a pair of stormy gray eyes follow her as she walked with catlike grace towards the bathroom.

He had been awake long before she was, contemplating on what was going on inside his head. His thoughts the moment he opened his eyes have furthermore confused him, because instead of just waking her up from her sleep, he opted to watch her instead.

He propped himself on his elbows and pulled the sheets up slightly; the slight chill that passed him he knew would make Hermione shiver. Draco shifted, and blew lightly at her bangs to remove it from her eyes. He watched as her chest rose every time she took a breath, her breath coming out of her slightly parted mouth warming his exposed chest, her curly hair lying and flowing freely on the black pillows and on her slender shoulders. He reached out a hand to brush the curl of hair on her shoulders, but he stopped midway, and it hovered above her instead, tracing her figure without even touching her.

Draco was a person who never really cared if he hurt another person with his words and deeds, but when he saw Hermione sleeping, he felt horrible for all the times he failed to keep his mouth shut and exhibit his virtue of delicacy. She looked so content, different from how she always looked so rigid and tense that she would snap anytime, and she couldn't have been more beautiful and endearing to him. She was like an angel... An angel that the devil tainted.

She was the angel, and he was the devil.

This was the reason he couldn't bring himself to wake her up. He knew she was fragile, that even if she wore the pants most of the time in the Trio, she would crumble into the ground once Potter and Weasley left her side. Heck, even a grade a tad less that O would send her into tears! It was his fault she gave in; he himself didn't know what came over him to lose such composure. Draco couldn't bring himself to touch her, and he knew that what transpired the night before was wrong... Everything that happened was wrong in the first place.

He knew that she was a mud... Muggle-born, that she had bushy hair that looked very untamable, larger-than-normal front teeth, and that she was a stupid know-it-all, but now it all became apparent that all the things he saw and thought were negative about her were what really drew him to her. He was just too bitter to recognize it whenever the subject of Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley (well, not that much about him, really) and most especially Harry Potter came into conversation. He always fell short when it came to them, when in fact he had always exerted more than what his limitations allowed him. If only those judgmental people knew, how he always felt whenever the three were around...

Draco decided that he didn't need to think of those bad thoughts and that feigning sleep was much better when he felt her stir beside him. Immediately, he resumed his place and slowed his breathing, to make it seem that he was still sleeping.

But that was minutes ago, and now that he, too, sat up, and followed her with his gaze, he thought that he needed to get away first.

Draco stood up and put on his robes just as quiet as Hermione did, and slipped into his slippers and headed out of the room. It was time to clear his head out.

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She was ready for either a confrontation -- or an invitation even (though she thought it to be unlikely) -- from Malfoy when she came out from the bath clothed in just a silk negligé she grabbed from the bathroom, only to have the sight of a now-made bed without a Greek god in slumber, and a set of new robes and a ribbon of the same hue waiting for her on top of it surprise her. She was more than baffled that he was gone and that a new set of robes were prepared for her, but Hermione pushed the thoughts aside as she approached the bed slowly, fingering her wand in her pocket; when her Auror instincts kicked in, she knew there wasn't any hex or curse on the bed.

"Colloprotus," she waved her wand at the door to lock it, and she began to peel off the negligé and put on the robes, her eyes darting around, wary of any intruder in the room. When she had placed the robes on, she found a full-length mirror standing at the far corner and she approached it, marveling at the elegant blood red dress robes she was wearing. It felt good against her skin, and when she got the ribbon to tie it on her curly fringes, it slipped easily from her hands.

After much fumbling and a few spells later, she rushed out of the room, desperate to find Malfoy, but she came to an abrupt halt just after stepping out of his room when she found a form with silvery-white hair sitting just outside the doors. The black-clad figure looked up just as she stepped out of the door, and the figure stood up gracefully. She felt her jaw drop when her eyes met light gray ones.

"Come downstairs into the Breakfast Hall and have breakfast with me, Miss Granger."

It was Malfoy, all right... Narcissa Malfoy.

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Hermione stared at the feast in front of her and her hostess, her heart filled with apprehension of destroying the lovely setting that she knew the house elves invested both blood and sweat for.

"Bon Appetit, Mademoiselle." Narcissa smiled from across Hermione, and began to eat the slice of black Oscar cake in front of her.

Hermione took the stainless fork and did just the same, suddenly having enough appetite to eat, chewing on the food slowly and relishing its taste. She looked around the Breakfast Hall and marveled at the huge paintings of the fields and pastures hanging on the wide walls, and admired the beauty of the gardens from the huge windows. She also liked how the tiny petals of lavender printed on the white walls and the pastel hues of the curtains gave the room a very homely atmosphere, and the chirping sounds of birds, the scent of the morning dew and the caress of the wind reminded her of the Malfoys' hospitality. She stared at the intricate bobbin laces designed on the tablecloth, and based on how much artsy and magnificent things inside the manor were, Narcissa Malfoy had full control over the house.

"I see that my dress robes suited you quite well." Narcissa continued after drinking tea. "I hope you didn't mind that I just made you wear one of my dresses instead of a new one. I just came home from Russia last midnight, and Lardy has informed me of an unexpected visitor that Draco had. And being Draco, he wouldn't have anything suitable for you to change into. I wouldn't want you wearing baggy clothing when you leave our manor." She dabbed the table napkin at the side of her lips. "You don't mind that, do you?"

"Uh, no, no." Hermione waved her hand. "I don't mind, Mrs. Malfoy. But really, you didn't have to--"

"Nonsense, dear! It is one of my favorite clothes, but it doesn't fit anymore. I almost lost hope that I wouldn't see someone fit to wear it, and I'm just glad that I didn't have to sell it to Madame Malkin's again. Do think of it as a gift, Miss Granger." She smiled at Hermione.

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy." Hermione returned the smile, before resuming to eat her food.

After a few minutes of silence, Narcissa spoke. "I would like to apologize for my son's lack of customary hospitality, Miss Granger. I should have known that Draco would be like that... Reminds me of Lucius when he gets cranky, that he does."

Hermione didn't know what to say. Malfoy had been good to her as far as a host's responsibility of feeding guests and accommodating them are concerned, but in the sleeping arrangement, well... She couldn't quite place that anywhere, especially since the host just shared...

Hermione's face colored slightly as her thoughts went to what her... activities were just last night. She looked down on her plate, hiding her face from Narcissa's view.

"... When I came upstairs to talk to Draco. I was knocking at Draco's door, but he wouldn't answer..."

Hermione blushed harder. So that explains the loud sound from the door...!

"... Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked up abruptly and saw the Mistress of the house looking at her. "P-Pardon?"

Narcissa's eyebrow shot up in amusement. She smiled softly while shaking her head. "I said, I should arrange the wedding plans for the two of you, don't you think?"

"M-Mrs. Malfoy!" Hermione blushed deeper into her roots. "Malf-Draco and I... W-We're not..." She trailed off. What were they anyway? They weren't friends, more so lovers or anything... But what does last night mean? What does it mean to her and to him? Was it just friendly shagging? Just something to ease the sexual tension between them and nothing else? Come to think of it, Draco was not there when she came out from the bathroom...

Narcissa saw the slide show of emotions in Hermione's auburn eyes. Was she thinking about what happened? "Oh. And here I thought I'll be expecting grandchildren..." She trailed off.

"I-It's not like that, Mrs. Malfoy. I admit, Mal-Draco is a rather charming and captivating boy -- I mean, gentleman, but..." Hermione stopped. But what? They just shagged like never before to vent out their frustrations? That they just wanted to get it on and have sex? It would be so immature, but what reasons do they really have for doing such? It was just a spur of the moment thing...

Or is it?

Hermione suddenly felt like not eating anymore, and she dabbed the table napkin on her lips, preparing to excuse herself.

Narcissa set down her fork, sipped the last of her tea and began dabbing the napkin all over her mouth. She knew that Hermione was confused now, and it wouldn't bode well with her hostess abilities if her guest wanted to leave at once just because of that. And besides, she still had plans for Hermione today... "I would like to show you around the manor, Miss Granger. That is, if you don't mind." She beamed at her, a smile she knew that not even Voldemort, when he visited Lucius, could resist.

Hermione was mesmerized. Narcissa was indeed a charmer. Because if she wasn't, she was sure the indifferent and pureblooded bravado of Lucius Malfoy hadn't melted... And there would be no Draco Malfoy in the Wizarding World. Why, Harry Potter and the Gryffindors would be nothing without the antagonizing force!

And besides, Hermione wouldn't have someone to compete with in school, no one would have to insult and irritate her any chance possible (though that didn't really matter to her), no one else would be just as smart and witty as he is to be assigned to work hand in hand with, no one capable enough to help her that much in her Head Duties just as he could...

... And no one else to shag her senseless and make her feel like she was loved?

Shoving her thoughts aside, she smiled at Narcissa in return. "It would be an honor, Mrs. Malfoy."

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Hermione was quite sure that her own footfalls were the only ones echoing in the hallway. Narcissa walked slowly and deliberately beside her, her impeccable black robes barely moving with her legs. She moved with so much grace that she looked like she was a ghost gliding in the hallways, what with her long, silvery-white hair free from the unusual and elegant French twist Hermione only saw the lady wearing, and her pale complexion contrasting the robes vividly. She would surreptitiously glance at her out of the corner of her eye just to admire her beauty. She looked so frail and helpless, but with the past events since fourth year, Hermione knew that she was a very strong woman -- and still is -- because she managed to extricate herself from the Imperius Curse, and she never crumbled into the ground when her husband was found to be beyond sanity.

In fact, the more Hermione looked at her, the more she saw the striking resemblance Draco had with his mother. The silver eyes, aristocratic nose, the thin and soft hued lips, the pale skin, even the long and slender effeminate fingers of Draco came from her!

When she first saw Lucius Malfoy in Flourish and Blott's way back second year, she almost mistook him as her pain-in-the-arse classmate who suddenly had an advanced growth spurt at the age of twelve. But now she knew that Draco looked more like his mother, especially since their eyes were soft, molten silver and rimmed with the faintest blue -- unusual for anyone to have, really. Maybe she only saw Lucius in Draco because of the same arrogance and air they exuded.

They came to a stop in front of large mahogany double doors with brass designs and doorknobs. Narcissa held the handle and opened it, motioning her to follow, that of which she willingly complied to. But the moment she caught sight of the whole room, she felt a warm feeling seep through her whole being.

The walls were painted the faintest of green (is there any other color in the manor?), and the sunlight coming from the huge window at the other side of the room enveloped her. She glanced around, staring at a few paintings and canvas standing around the room, and the settee placed strategically just in the window's peripheral. She walked slowly towards a canvas standing near the window, staring intently at the sketch of a ballroom where what seemed like a couple danced. She touched the canvas, and she thought she experienced a jolt of electricity upon contact with the object, and she suddenly had a fleeting memory.

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"He's from Durmstrang!… fraternizing with the enemy, that's what you're doing!"

Ron shouted at her at the middle of the Yule Ball celebration, thinking how stupid enough she was to get mixed up with Viktor Krum while the champions were competing. Most of the students were looking at them already, and he ranted on and on about whatever offending he could think of, unaware of the anger rising in her.

"Don't call him Vicky!"

She stalked off at that moment, eyes blazing angrily at all the people who got in her way, half the dance floor parting as she muttered to herself about red heads and irrational thinking.

"Granger."

At the edge of the dance floor near the double doors, she saw Malfoy standing there, impeccable black robes falling fastidiously on his body, its high collar making him look like a vicar and a harmless man, though apparently he isn't. She thought she saw Pansy Parkinson edge nearer, but she didn't care then. She was far too furious at Ron for not thinking clearly.

"Out of my way, Malfoy."

"Livid because Potty and Weasel left you for other girls? What would the old croon say?" He stood there, undeterred, sneering at her.

"Shut up!" She tried to push him away and pass through peacefully, but he didn't move an inch. "I said out of my way, git!"

"No."

"Please, Malfoy. Kindly sod off." She seethed.

"My, what language, Granger." His smirk, if possible, grew even bigger, before fading almost instantly to be replaced by a serious stare. "Not until I get what I want."

"And what, pray tell, do you want from a filthy muggle-born?"

He shrugged, and she remembered seeing a slight curve of a sneer forming at the corner of his mouth. "A dance."

"A dance? And the sky must be falling!" She snapped at him. She thought she saw a scowl come over his features and he glared at her. Somehow, she saw Ron do just that several minutes ago, while he bellowed about the betrayal she supposedly did. And like a broken record, his words repeated in her mind. Fraternizing with the enemy…

"Well? Or are you scared? Don't worry; I don't step on a dance partner's feet, unlike Krum." He snickered slightly, before flashing her a twisted, lopsided grin.

She stared at him defiantly, lifting her chin slightly at him in an arrogant manner. "Fine. Just one." She agreed at that time, blinded by her ire at Ron. 'Fraternizing with the enemy, huh? I'll show you..' She thought as Malfoy took her gloved hand and whisked her away to the dance floor.

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She felt a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, and she colored slightly, remembering how foolish she was to agree to dance with him then just because of her fury. He was a good dancer though, not like Viktor at all, for Viktor often stepped on her foot that day. While she considered him the enemy then, he acted as gentlemanly as possible, as they danced an upbeat music he whirled her around with precaution, but with the slow songs he just held her there, under the Great Hall's enchanted ceilings that had fireworks and snow; and the whole dance floor didn't seem to notice them while they danced. And well, they both lost track of time, so much for that one dance she stubbornly set. Viktor was actually half-disappointed and half-glad to see her dancing with Malfoy, graciously cutting in and reminding them unconsciously of the time. They were, after all, family friends. She thought she saw Malfoy reluctantly release her, and she was, too, though she wouldn't admit to that. But the dance wasn't something the students gossiped about some time later, which meant the dance they shared wasn't something for headlines. Well, Harry and Ron were just too oblivious to not notice that then, because the blazing row she had with Ron after the Ball didn't revolve around Malfoy but Krum. She almost wanted them to take notice, but... Well, let's just say that it takes ages before a block of ice is melted.

She jolted out of reverie as she heard the mistress of the manor speak.

"He used to always spend his time here way back," said Narcissa. "... But he never finished anything, though. Lucius would always send him out of this room. I never thought that under this would be where Lucius performs his Dark Arts magic."

Hermione's eye grew wide at the realization that hit her. So that must mean… "S-So these are Mal-Draco's works?" She darted her eyes around the room, taking in all the huge canvases, all with beautiful drawings left unfinished. Wait… Send Malfoy out of the room? That was when it clicked. Every work was not finished, because Lucius Malfoy sent his son out of the room all the time to practice his Dark Arts here… So, this is the famous Drawing Room of the Malfoys! She wondered why when Malfoy helped her did they not pass through this room, considering under this was where the dungeons were located, but she realized that they apparated into the dungeons after several flights of stairs, and she was unconscious when they came back.

Narcissa nodded. "Have a seat, Miss Granger."

Hermione sat down on the soft chair across Narcissa, still staring intently at the almost-done sketch of a girl dancing with an invisible partner. Only the partner of the girl was missing, everything else in the picture was drawn in detail; and the portrait seemed alive, even without the hues.

"That was the only drawing he came close to finishing." Narcissa saw Hermione staring at the drawing. "This was his favorite room since childhood, but ever since your fifth year in Hogwarts, this room became his least favorite."

"Why so, Mrs. Malfoy?" Hermione couldn't help but ask.

Narcissa glanced at her before continuing. "You see, every time he spends his free time here, he draws. He manages to draw the things he deemed to be beautiful. But Lucius would always storm in, sometimes even drags him just to send him out." Narcissa's gaze landed on a torn canvas at the corner of the room. "Often times he would reprimand Draco here about not being able to catch the Snitch, or when he ranks only second in school, or when he finds his actions disapproving."

Hermione felt a stab of guilt on her heart. Was Lucius Malfoy that despicable when not in the right mind? And if so, then indirectly, it was their fault that Malfoy loathed them, because he always fell short against them and his father would punish him...

"If he ever treated you badly in Hogwarts, which I'm quite sure he did, I'd like to apologize in his behalf, Miss Granger. I myself do not understand at first why Lucius wanted so badly for you and your friends to, you know." Narcissa placed a hand on her hands that were resting on the table.

"It's all right, Mrs. Malfoy." She retorted. "Although he may have hurt us, Harry, Ron and I have all decided to put it past him. Well, save for Ron. They still couldn't get past the brawling instincts sometimes." Hermione laughed good-naturedly.

Narcissa chuckled silently, before sighing audibly and staring out of the window. "If I had known that it would change him…"

Hermione wondered why of all people, Narcissa was telling the Malfoy secrets to her. True, the Wizarding World forgave the Malfoys for their transgressions during the War, but… "I-I hope you don't mind my asking, Mrs. Malfoy, but…Why are you telling me all these?"

Narcissa reverted her gaze at her and merely smiled. "I just wanted to, really. It's not everyday that Draco brought a friend here at home. He doesn't let anyone visit here, even Pansy and Blaise never came over to just talk or do something, always the other way around." Her smile grew bigger. "He said he'd bring someone most special to him, if ever."

"Mrs. Malfoy, I-I'm not…" Hermione blushed rapidly.

"Dear," Narcissa pointed to the painting she was staring at just a while ago. "That is Draco's favorite work, although he never finished it anymore. You know what the story is behind it?"

Hermione shook her head, an indication for Narcissa to continue. "He said that the first time he attended the Hogwarts Yule Ball, he saw a girl that caught his eye, dressed in floaty, periwinkle blue floor-length dress, her hair sleek and shiny, and her smile as radiant as the morning sun. Later on, he realized that that girl was the same girl he was forced to hate, but at that night, she looked like another person altogether, because she carried herself quite splendidly. He envied his friend who got the chance to ask her out to be his date, so as he sat with Blaise, Pansy, Millicent, Vincent and Gregory, he watched the pair, dancing, wishing he could get a chance to dance with her even just once."

Hermione felt her cheeks burning. That can't be…!

"… He did get the chance, and so even with the possibility that the whole school would hate him more and that her friends would pry the girl away from him, he asked her for a single dance. I'm fairly surprised that he even counted how many songs they danced to." Narcissa stood up and stared at the canvas, tracing the empty space allotted for the girl's dancing partner, before turning to look at her. "It was you, Hermione."

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Draco downed his seventh glass of Russian vodka, glaring mutinously at the fireplace.

He was already having a difficult time handling the Black estates and the Malfoy businesses while helping his mother in managing the manor. Sure, his Malfoy charm did wonders to the family business, but he knew that it wasn't enough for the people to trust them just like they did then. He has to prove himself worthy, or else most of them would question his position in the company. He was only nineteen, fresh out of Hogwarts, inexperienced, and most of all, he never really had a likeable reputation, (but when it comes to looks... that was out of the question) and he knew that him starting a clean slate would give rise to doubts.

And then there's Hermione.

Draco threw the goblet against the wall, the alcoholic substance somehow reaching the flames and making the tongues flicker and rise further, biting the furnace. He was glad that his father cast wards around the library to conceal whatever business transpired in his office, and he was fairly sure no one would hear the shattering noise the glass made.

He was mad at himself for losing control. He shouldn't have lost his control that easily, but he couldn't help it. Hermione looked so beautiful, sitting there on his bed with the silken sheets tucked up to her belly, as if she was made to be writhing under him as he pinned her between his body and the huge four-poster. He could still remember vividly how her body fit snugly against his, and how her touch stirred his cold and dead to the world soul and ignited his passion, how her porcelain skin slipped and smacked with his, how she moaned and gasped out in ecstasy every time he touched her, and how it all felt right.

It was a first for her, as it was to him, and he could tell; he was sorry for hurting her then, yet she, like the brave Gryffindor she was, matched him pace for pace. It was an amazing experience; something he would painstakingly tuck into the depths of his heart, but then...

It was so wrong… So wrong, because she isn't supposed to be tainted by someone like him -- an evil, despicable and insufferable prat who did nothing but grate on her nerves way back. So wrong, because he knew that the cease-fire status he, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had mutually and silently agreed upon would immediately go into red alert. So wrong, because he knew that even if he wanted her like water for chocolate, she would never have him.

Yes, once in a while, Draco Malfoy knew when to admit when there is something he couldn't have.

And he knew that everything he had with her would have to be forgotten. It was time for him to move on, anyway. And it's not like they actually had anything special going on between them.

With his resolve firm, Draco muttered a cleaning spell on the mess he made, and sifted through his father's documents. It would be best to work harder than ever to have him not thinking of anything about her anymore.

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"James and Sirius would always leave me behind. James to chase Lily, and Sirius to go off with Remus and play pranks on Severus, or both. I know the feeling of being left out, Hermione." Narcissa spoke after a few minutes of silence as she led her through the hallways and the flights of stairs.

"Wha--You... Know? I mean, how--" Hermione stuttered.

"Dear," Narcissa smiled. "Draco may appear cold and indifferent towards you and everyone else, but he isn't insensitive. He knows how you are feeling."

"He does? He does..." Hermione trailed off. That explains why Malfoy had been looking at her intently even in Hogwarts. That someone understood or even knew the feeling was indeed a good thing. It wasn't a wonder why Narcissa Malfoy, ice queen extraordinaire, coined such name because she experienced the same as she did. Maybe that's why... Wait. Sirius Black? Narcissa Black? "Sirius...? You mean...?"

"Yes, Sirius is my cousin. Mother wanted him to look after me in Hogwarts, since father insisted that I go to Hogwarts instead of in Beaubaxtons Academy, where she wanted me to study." Narcissa replied. "They would turn into their animagus form," she stopped, as if pondering something, and then continued, "or in Remus's case, his once a month transformation, and then they'd leave me in the Common Room to study alone. James could have made me borrow his Invisibility Cloak and slip in with Remus to go with them instead. It's not like I was enemies with Lily."

"You're a... Gryffindor?"

"No," Narcissa laughed good-naturedly. "I'm a certified Slytherin. But I was the only Slytherin allowed access to the Gryffindor Common Room."

"Oh..." Hermione mumbled, unable to say anything.

"Sirius never really did a good job of keeping an eye on me. He's always busy and oftentimes had left me to fend for myself against Lucius. But that's how Lucius charmed me, anyway. I don't blame my cousin, since its not all that bad." Narcissa looked at Hermione surreptitiously, gauging her reaction. Hermione Granger should get the fact she was trying to give her.

Narcissa saw herself in Hermione when she was a teenager. She felt rebellious, unloved and unappreciated by James, Remus and Sirius, but she understood the boys' need to be free, instead of being locked up all day in their dorms. She knew, but she never told Sirius of her feelings when it came to that matter, that she also wanted to participate; that she was also up to whatever they were doing. She would remember that mistake forever, but a good thing came out of it anyway. If it had not been in that situation, she wouldn't have had a chance to have frequent spell-hurtling sessions and taunt exchange with the arrogant, ever-proud and self-proclaimed embodiment of everything Slytherin (at that time), Lucius Malfoy.

Narcissa believed that whatever Hermione was experiencing right now would teach her to value everything around her, and to sometimes think of herself too. But Narcissa purposefully left out the details on how they, Lucius and she, got together… Besides, it was something akin to what was happening now between her and Draco.

The two reached the huge mahogany doors secured firmly and bolted to prevent burglars, and with a sigh of resignation, she spoke. "Now run along, Miss Granger. I know you're a busy lady, and I apologize profusely for interfering with your daily routine."

"It's okay, Mrs. Malfoy. You were a very gracious hostess." Hermione smiled. "And besides, said routine have been quite tedious lately. It wouldn't hurt to get out of it once in a while."

"That's good to hear." Replied Narcissa as she watched the house elf hail a coach from outside.

When Hermione climbed into the coach, she suddenly stopped. "Oh, Mrs. Malfoy, your dress robes--"

Narcissa pushed her into the carriage. "Ah, you can keep that." She smiled at her, and closed the door.

"But--"

"Not another word, Hermione. I insist you keep it." Narcissa motioned the coachman to go. "Be safe, dear!"

Hermione felt another protest coming out from her mouth, but she just shoved it back. It would be rude to let down her hostess, and she knew from rumors that it was difficult to get to the Lady Malfoy's good graces, and it may have been a miracle that she even made it out of the Malfoy Manor alive and unscathed. So instead, she smiled at her -- a genuine, happy one that she saw was mirrored on the Lady's face.

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»Some Additional Notes«

I'd like to personally thank all of the reviewers out there, thanks so much for reviewing! You don't know how much of my time and effort I've been exerting for this fic. This is my first fic, and I know the reviews aren't that much, but it is still a great thing.

Saraneth90 – thanks! I kind of brought that out from out of nowhere, you know. D No, it was really a very emotional and angsty stuff I wrote there. Hehe.

Lucifer's Garden – woohoo! I love you too! j/k! Thanks for reviewing!

Sw33tdohtee – 'you capture the characters wonderfully.' I'm glad I really did! I didn't even expect that anyone would notice this one. I mean, it ::is:: a songfic. But still, thanks! No, don't worry, Draco and Hermione doesn't have to be official in the book, we have our own preference… Though if I really ::had:: the power to change HP, or lord over J.K. Rowling-sama, I'd do that. Hehe. ::hides from rabid JKR fans::… And the R scene was HOT? Really? Considering I really haven't done it (no, I'm not being a prude, I promise. I have nothing against those who have done it!), was it really ::that:: good? I can't believe it…!

Heavenn Hell – thanks! And don't worry, the party's up in just a few chaps!

Kace08 – yep, Draco with Pansy and Blaise with Hermione… Don't you smell something funny with that arrangement? Hehehe. Unexpected… Heh. Have I caught you off-guard? And why are you looking around? ::evil glint:: Are you… Hehe, never mind!!!!

Bharathnatyam – sounds like you? Then you must be my twin! ::glomps:: My long-lost twin!!!!!!! ::grins sheepishly:: er, sorry… Hehehe. Thanks for reading!

B-a-b-i – thanks for taking time! I'm glad you liked the interaction. I did too! ::beams::

Spychick989 – Here's more! D

Justanotherharmlessprankster -- Yep, installations. And this is the seventh. Thanks for reading!

Kittypilla – thanks! And the ball's coming up… And there are a lot of surprises…

PrincessJB – 'PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE MORE!' Yes, yes, yes, I'm writing more! ::grins stupidly:: Hehehe. Here it is! Hope you enjoyed this…

DarkSeductress – You mean you also connect with Hermione's personality? Wow. I didn't know many people are feeling that way, really. I'm not much of a people-person nowadays, especially when I withdrew from the outside world… Hehehe. You know what I mean. You find it wonderful? I'm really glad you did. I almost thought it was a futile attempt on fiction, really!

Venus725 – 'Oh. My. God. I sure do love this story!' Thanks for loving it, really! Is it really that good? Because in my opinion it isn't… Thanks for reviewing and reading! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

And to those who have read, thanks so much for reading! I just hope I do hear from you soon! ::hint-hint:: Heh. Thanks again!

Next Chapter: Rendezvous, dress robes, butterbeers, and a very, very, ::very:: unexpected person. Oh, and another pathetic attempt in smut. Heh. I just hope those I've offended wouldn't be so offended anymore… On second thought… Argh. Whatever. Review again! Thanks again! I'm going again!

Er… Yep. Sugar and coffee overdose, peeps. So please bear with me. Thanks!

Ja, mata ne! (… wrong fandom, really, but what the heck, it was just a see you later…! ;))