Recap:

"Right. I'm going to go take a nice warm bath, and then I'm going to breakfast." She turned her back on his sharply, her eyes stinging with tears of anger. "Thanks for believing in me Ron."

"Hermione, wait!" But she was already gone.

No one bothered to say the obvious. He was screwed…

Chapter 4: And Slowly They Crumble

"So, I hear you and lover boy are fighting," was the first thing Draco said when Hermione walked into the assigned detention room the following evening. She didn't care how he knew, but she was determined to ignore his jabs.

A few minutes later Professor McGonagall walked in, a small piece of parchment in her hand.

"Good," she said, "you're both here." Without wasting time, she handed the parchment to Hermione and said, "Read it. I'll be back in a few minutes to see how you're coming along."

Hermione waited for her to leave the room before she looked at the parchment.

"That sounds easy enough," she said, handing it to Malfoy. He had a slightly different reaction.

"No," he said. "No way. I'm not doing it."

"But Mal—"

"Look Granger, you might not care about your reputation, being a filthy mudblood and all, but us purebloods have to watch our backs. We do not associate with you, and I am NOT doing that."

"Its not difficult, Malfoy," she sighed, snatching the parchment back from him. "Honestly, you're like a two-year-old. All we have to do is have lunch together tomorrow and be civil with one another. If we agree to it then we get out of detention tonight."

"I will not show my face in public with you. There has to be something else we can do, because that won't work."

"You're so stubborn!"

"Don't you—"

"That will be quite enough," came Professor McGonagall's slightly more powerful voice. "I see that you are both going to make this more difficult than it has to be. You will do the task tomorrow Mr. Malfoy, and one extra week of detention is now added. You may return to your dormitories." She was out of the room before either could voice their protests.

"Great," Hermione huffed, crossing her arms rigidly over her chest. "Thanks a lot Malfoy."

"Me?" he balked, glaring daggers at her. "Shove off Granger."

"Whatever," she sighed. "I'll meet you outside the Great Hall tomorrow morning. Don't screw this up too."

The room was silent; complete, hollow, could-hear-a-pin-drop silent.

They walked swiftly through the room, staring straight ahead, and didn't stop until they reached the teachers' table. There were two extra seats, the seats they were to sit in this morning.

"Good morning," Professor McGonagall said, smiling warmly. "Sit down here next to me. No one can eat until you do."

Hermione bit her tongue. That hadn't been on the parchment! Everyone was waiting for them? Everyone knew and so no matter what all their eyes were going to be stuck to them as they walked to the front of the room.

"Good morning professor," she managed to get out before taking her seat. Malfoy didn't say a word; not that anyone thought he would though. Almost instantly the tables were full of food and Hermione dug in immediately. As long as she had food in her mouth she didn't have to converse with Malfoy, something that she knew her professor was expecting.

"I have your next task," McGonagall said, sliding a piece of parchment to Hermione. "The two of you should discuss it now." It was not a request. She lifted it slowly, allowing Malfoy to see it as well. Surprisingly he did not act the way he had last night when presented with their task. He simply shrugged and shoveled an unspeakable amount of food into his mouth.

"We have to discuss it," Hermione said, catching his eyes.

"Discuss what? I think its clear enough. Snape's coming in and we have to work on a potion together." He was about to add something, some sort of biting remark, but he bit his tongue. Anything he said in the vicinity of a teacher could land him in yet another detention. "And besides," he sighed, taking a small sip of his juice, "I think we've accomplished what McGonagall wanted. Everyone in the Great Hall thinks we're talking civilly."

"We are talking civilly," she pointed out, having just realized it herself.

"You'll come to find that I'm a great actor, Granger. Oh, by the way, you look so nice today."

"That will be enough Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said sharply, leaning over to look him in the eye. "Unless you want more time added that is."

"When detention is over," Hermione said and turned her nose up at him. No more needed to be said.

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"How long are you going to keep this up?" Harry asked, his arm slung loosely over Hermione's shoulder. "He's sorry and he's miserable."

"I think a few more days should do the trick. And that's being nice. What he said was worse than anything Malfoy's ever said to me."

"Just because you're better doesn't mean Malfoy couldn't have won. He's vicious, Hermione. Who knows what kind of nasty tricks he was going to pull on you…And," he said, turning her head to face him, "for the record, Ron does not think Malfoy is better than you."

"Well he has a really bad way of showing it."

"I think you—"

"Hermione?"

They turned to find Ron standing behind them, his head slightly bowed, his hands held in front of him, as if he were a child being reprimanded. And Hermione thought, Good, he should feel that way after what he said to me.

"Yes Ronald?"

He cringed. She only called him Ronald when she wasn't happy. He had hoped she would have cooled down some by now; he was sadly mistaken.

"Can I talk to you? Alone?"

"That all depends," she said sharply, ignoring a soft jab from Harry in the side. "You're not going to try to apologize are you? Because I'm still not ready to accept it. If that's what you want then you can save your breath. There are better ways I could be spending my time. Like perfecting my magic."

"Hermione, please," he sighed, looking up at her for the first time. "Just a few minutes. That's all I want."

She looked to Harry, who gave her a curt nod and a small push forward.

"Very well. Let me get my cloak and we can go outside."

Draco looked down into the quivering eyes of Pansy Parkinson and smiled coldly. She was scared—No, terrified. She thought he meant to harm her, and she was half right. He did wish he could do something physically destructive to her for all the embarrassment she'd caused him over the past few years they'd been together. But then that would be just what his father would want. Not that Lucius Malfoy had it in for Pansy, but knowing that his son was capable of such carnage would make him weep with joy. Draco was not about to give him that satisfaction, for, even though on the outside they appeared the picture perfect diabolical family, in reality Draco despised his father as much as any normal teenage boy does. Only in his case, he truly had a reason for it.

No, he would not hurt Pansy. Only scare her a bit more. A little psychological trauma never really hurt anyone. Her fear was what he needed right now, because, try as he might, he could not get it from Hermione Granger. She was his ultimate goal. If he could get her to cower before him by the end of the year then he would come out on top.

"So, my treat," he whispered into Pansy's ear, making her shiver noticeably beneath him. "Any unfaithful visits with my bumbling associate?"

She shook her head vigorously.

"No Draco," she whispered. And she had been such a tough girl before him. "I don't even look at him."

"And the others?" he pressed. Oh the others; there had been so many, too many to know.

"What others? I only want you."

"Perfect." He leaned down and captured her plump pink lips. "Show me."

The crisp evening air was soothing against Hermione's face. And, with her cloak wrapped tight around her, she was not cold in the least. At this hour, they still had some time before all students were supposed to be inside, and then it was time for detention.

Hermione didn't know what she considered worse: having this inevitable conversation with Ron, or knowing she would be spending the next three hours with Malfoy, forced to bite her tongue.

"I haven't heard a word," she said when they had been walking through the grounds in silence for nearly five minutes. "I thought this was important."

"Hermione please, I didn't bring you out here to pick a fight."

And when she looked up into his eyes she saw true pain and a deep remorse. Of course he was sorry, of course he didn't meant what he said in the way she took it, and of course he would be afraid for her, he loved her. It made her want to pull him into her arms and forgive him completely. But then, remembering her statement early, she held her ground and stood a good three feet from him.

"What did you bring me out here for Ron?" She tried her best to keep her voice steady and free of anger.

"How long have we been together, Hermione?"

She thought for a moment, then said, "A year and a half, give or take."

"And how much of that time has been perfect? Happy? Passionate?"

She returned his question with a blank look.

"What about fights? And anger? And uncertainty?"

"Ron, what are you saying?" Now she was scared. No, he couldn't be saying what she thought he was saying. She needed him God damn it! Didn't he realize that? Even with all the fighting she needed him. He was a part of her as surely as Harry was. If—

"I love you Hermione, I always have and I always will. And Harry loves you. And Ginny loves—"

"Please," she whispered, now completely frazzled with fear, "just say it." She didn't even notice that she'd stepped forward and was clutching his hand tightly.

"Hermione," he said, taking a deep breath, "I can't bear the idea of not being with you. I can't imagine my life without you."

"Ron!" she begged, her lip trembling. He wasn't even looking at her. Look at me! she wanted to scream.

"Hermione." He pulled his hands free from her and cupped her face gently, leaning in close enough to kiss her. "Marry me."

"Ron, no! Ron—What?"

"Marry me," he repeated, and reached into his pocket to present her with a small black velvet box. And when he opened it she couldn't suppress her gasp. It was gorgeous and there was no way he could afford it.

"Ron, how did you buy that!"

"That money I was saving up for a new broom," he admitted, blushing slightly. "That, and Fred and George lent me some. They make more money than they know what to do with sometimes…So, what do you say? Or are you going to keep me hanging?"

"Oh!" She sprang forward, wrapping her arms around his thick neck and giving his face kiss upon kiss, until she finally whispered, "Yes, yes. I love you. Yes." She took a step back and watched in a dizzying awe as he slipped the ring on her finger. She held it up in the fading evening light, her eyes widening at its absolute beauty. And then, startling him completely, she lashed out and slapped his arm.

"What was that for!"

"You scared the shit out of me! I thought you were going to dump me!"

"Dump you!" he laughed, hoisting her up into his arms, as if she were already his bride and he was about to carry her over the threshold into their dream home. "Oh 'Mione. What would I do without you?"

"Fail every one of your tests, that's what."

They had been sitting in the designated classroom, mixing potions, for the past hour and neither had said a single snide remark. Snape had left some time before, feeling his two smartest students could handle themselves alone. Besides, he wasn't supposed to be on detention duty tonight. Professor McGonagall was called out on official Order business that morning and so his detention night was moved ahead.

For Hermione, there was no need to say anything more to Malfoy than, "Can you hand me that?" or "Does this look like the right color?" or "What's the next ingredient?" She was far too elated with her new engagement that, even if Malfoy did open his mouth, it wouldn't affect her in the least.

Malfoy's reason for keeping so quiet was, of course, far different. His row that evening with Pansy had proved to be more straining than anticipated. Goyle had received an earful as well, and a good black and blue reminder not to touch his woman. He had no doubts that they were probably romping in his bed right now, defying his orders completely. When had things turned so rotten for him? Crabbe and Goyle had always been loyal to him; always ready at his beck and call. When had he been turned on? And by his fellow Slytherins? Was he not the shining example of pure magical ability and charm? Good looks and cynicism? Who could stand up against that?

He sighed irritably and looked to his left. Hermione Granger was one that could stand up against him, and put him in his place too, though he would never, never admit it.

And that was another thing. She was far too cheery right now. Hadn't she and her lover boy been arguing just this morning? What changed? Why could she not keep that stupid grin off her face? Was she mocking him?

"Malfoy?"

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and looked at her. She must have been trying to get his attention for some time.

"Something else on your mind?"

"What? Playing psychiatrist, Granger?"

"Fine, don't tell me. But you can stay awake and help me with this potion. I need to crush these eggshells into a powder while you stir the cauldron continuously. Ok?"

He nodded and took the big wooden spoon from her, only noticing afterward that he'd grazed her hand. Her head was far too high in the clouds to notice anything he did.

After he had been stirring for what felt like an hour, and staring off into nothingness, he looked over to see what was taking her so long with the eggshells. They looked powdery enough to him. They didn't have to be perfe—

"Granger, what's that on your finger?" he demanded without thinking.

"Not that you care," she said, her smiling widening, "but Ron proposed to me tonight."

"That explains the ridiculously stupid grin," he scoffed. "Are those shells done yet?"

"Umm…Yeah." She scooped the powder into a small bowl, then dumped the contents into the cauldron, yanking her head back when a thick reddish smoke came billowing out. "Red is good," she sighed. "Thank God."

"Did you actually think you wouldn't do it perfectly?" He had meant it as an insult, but it seemed, with all the other stuff that was on his mind, that he lacked his usual conviction. To Hermione, and to Snape who had just reentered the room, it sounded like a shy compliment. "I—Shit."

"Very good," Snape said, looking over the potion. "It's perfect, just as the others are. And it was your last one." Without another word, he walked swiftly from the room. He had much more work to complete this evening.

"I can't believe we made it through a whole detention without biting each other's heads off," Hermione pointed out as she set to cleaning up the mess they had made. "See Malfoy. We can do it. We just needed some motivation. The week's almost over and we have two more to go. It'll be a breeze from here on out."

"I think it's safe to say, Granger, that tonight we were both very preoccupied. What makes you think we can keep this up for two and a half more weeks? You're a dreamer if you think it can be done without any further infractions."

"Well let's enjoy it right now. And help me clean this up. I still have homework to do tonight."

They were nearly finished with the clean up, when Draco simply could not get his mouth shut any longer. His thoughts had been nagging him all day and he desperately needed a release. Anything.

Instead, however, he somehow managed to subliminally ask for help.

"Granger," he said, nearly startling her. "What makes you stay with Weasley?"

"What do you mean?" What was he trying to say? It didn't really sound like an insult. No, more like he truly wanted to know.

"What makes you want to be with him?" Oh well, he thought, might as well go all the way. Foreplay was never his thing.

"Are you asking me for relationship advice, Malfoy?" It was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do; keep a straight face and not laugh. What she was really thinking though, was that she pitied him. She knew, along with the rest of the school, how Pansy had been cheating on him since almost the moment they got together.

"Nevermind," he scoffed, snatching up his bag and trudging out the door. What had he been thinking? To ask her for help? It was ridiculous! She's a Gryffindor! She'll tell everyone now! Why couldn't he just keep his big mouth—

A surprisingly strong arm pulled him to a halt in the middle of the corridor. He knew who it was before turning to become face to face with a concerned Hermione Granger.

"Tell me something," she said, her fingers still wound around his wrist. "Why did you two start dating in the first place?" She didn't know why she was helping him, of all people. Only that she pitied him and the look in his eyes had been genuinely painful.

"I don't have time—"

"Alright. But think about it. And try talking to her, instead of yelling at her. I don't know if you've noticed, but that never works. Especially with you."

"Whatever Granger. Stay out of my business." And then he was gone. And she was completely confused.

Ooo! There's a nice little tension going on there :) Hmmm, I wonder what that could turn into.

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