I will not waste your time with unnecssary author's notes at the beginning of the chapter since i'm sure you're anxious to read this update. but i'm sorry for taking so long with updating! really!

The silence was literally deafening.

I could actually hear the blood pound inside my head and the sound of any scrap of pride I had crashing and burning.

Malfoy cleared his throat and it sounded like thunder booming.

I absolutely refused to turn around and face his smug looks and condescending smiles.

For some reason I thought of Ron and his sheepish face when he had realized I had figured out he was with Harry. I had been able to stand looking at him only because I knew he wasn't finding any enjoyment in my mortification. As for Malfoy, it was a completely different story. He had probably been waiting for this moment since the first time he had laid eyes on me. Since that first year at Hogwarts I had beaten him in tests continually, outsmarted him with Ron and Harry, and ultimately shown my superior intelligence.

Now here was proof of my stupid belief that Harry would be happy with someone like me. Someone too brainy. Too indifferent about her appearance. Too replaceable. God, I was utterly pathetic.

So imagine my surprise when he quietly murmured, "I'm sorry."

If it was possible, my spine straightened even more. Draco Malfoy didn't even know the meaning of the words, so how could he possibly mean them?

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Granger, I'm sorry."

"For what, exactly?"

Malfoy shrugged helplessly and my eyes couldn't help but follow the Daily Prophet still clutched in his hand.

"For what, Malfoy?"

He noticed my staring and approached me. I tensed but he only extended the Daily Prophet to me. I stared down at the paper offered in his elegant hands and took one end. He laid his other hand on mine and the part of my mind that wasn't reeling in shock at the sight of our joined hands, registered that his hands were callused. The moment disappeared as quickly as it had happened and I snatched the paper from him. Immediately, I turned and heaved the paper as far away as I could, and stayed there with my chest heaving and tears pricking the corners of my eyes.

No, I told myself, don't cry over it again. You're done with tears.

I told myself,

"For invading your privacy, I suppose. For Scar Head's stupidity even."

"Oh please, Malfoy, don't give me any of your condescending sympathy." I said tiredly.

"Condescending?"

"Yes." I snapped. "What else could it be? You don't know the meaning of 'I'm sorry' and you've probably never even said it once in your entire life."

"I'm saying it now." he huffed.

"But you don't mean it."

There was silence.

"Fine. I don't mean it." said Malfoy evenly. "I'm not at all sorry that Potter jilted you."

I sucked in an outraged breath.

"It would have been an entire waste for you to be devoted to him for the rest of your life."

I let it out in an explosion of surprise.

I whirled around. "What do you mean a waste?"

He gave me an inscrutable look. "Nevermind."

Suddenly I was so angry. Not angry at Malfoy, or even Harry. Just Angry. Mad. Mind-blowingly furious.

"Look Malfoy," I stepped closer so I could really get in his face, "I know I might not be one of those busty, beautifully overblown beauties that men like you Harry are used to having thrown at you, but I LOVED him. I know you probably don't know the meaning of the word, but it basically means I would have done anything for him. I would have given him everything that I had to give. I was.." and to my utter embarrassment I felt tears once again prick the corner of my eyes. I blinked furiously to try and make them go away. "I was utterly blinded by my stupid, pathetic love for stupid Harry Potter and this is where its got me. In America, in the middle of nowhere with a madman on the chase, with no money, no anything, and I've also got you here making fun of what happened between Harry and me." I would have kept yelling, I had that much spleen to vent, but by that time, my blinking wasn't helping the tears anymore and any second now I was going to start crying. So instead, I stared at Malfoy with my watery eyes hoping they managed to convey the amount of disgust I had for him, then stomped away.

"Granger…"

"Just shut up!"

I felt him shuffle up behind me. "He didn't deserve you."

"Why.. Why are you being so nice to me!" I sniffled.

"I never could stand up to a woman's tears."

"You could when we were at Hogwarts."

"You were hardly a woman then."

"You stink."

"Yes." I heard him sniff himself. "I definitely do."

Reluctantly I chuckled, then asked him what we should do.

Malfoy placed his hands on my shoulder and turned me around, and that's when disaster struck.

I don't know how and I definitely don't know why, but when I looked into his grey eyes, butterflies began to dance into my stomach and it felt as if ants were crawling all over my body. It was a queer feeling, but not in a bad way. I just stared at him for a while and he was definitely staring back. When I think back on it, he was probably wondering what the hell was wrong with me and why I suddenly had such a bad staring problem. However, during that time, I swayed toward him as though in a trance even as my mind was shrieking at my body and asking it what the hell it thought it was doing. My body stupidly didn't listen, and before I knew it, I had pressed my body against Malfoys, torso to torso, and even worse, I had plastered my lips on his. They were firm and warm and I was overcome with an urge to just dive into him and hide from the rest of the world.

I felt as if I could find contentment in him, Malfoy of all people.

I traced my wanton tongue against the seam of his lips and obligingly he opened them, and with a small moan I deepened the already shocking kiss. My tongue boldly explored the cavern of his mouth and dueled recklessly with his own. I felt... There are no words to describe what it was I felt. I felt as if I had drank liquid fire that was pooling in my belly. I felt strong. Beautiful. So unlike the Hermione I was. And that was what jolted me out of my trance.

I was Hermione and she wouldn't do that? Would she? Would I?

And he was Draco Malfoy.

Oh Gods.

Draco Malfoy.

I tore my lips from his and pushed frantically at Malfoy. Instantly, he let me go and surprised, I stumbled back a few steps.

My heart was pounding so quickly and so hard I thought it might pound itself right out of my chest. My head, however, was paying no attention to my impending heart attack.

'Stupid girl!' It shrieked. 'You just threw yourself at Draco fucking Malfoy! What were you thinking! Are you crazy? What happened to all your vaunted intelligence! He only kissed you back because he's a virile man and hasn't been with a woman in who knows how long! He probably felt sorry for you! STUPID STUPID STUPID!'

It shrieked.

"I.."

Malfoy was staring at me. No big surprise there.

"I… I don't know what came over me. I apologize." I said stiffly while my cheeks burnt a Weasley hair color.

His eyes stared hard into mine. "You're sorry?"

"Well… I… Yes, of course. I have no idea why I did such a vulgar thing. It was completely unlike me. I suppose it was just the moment. Yes, that's why. I was just feeling so distraught I felt the need to well… I suppose it was just the culmination of all these recent events. I normally would never have behave so…" I trailed off as I realized I was babbling. Merlin, I had never been so embarrassed before in my entire life. Well, maybe as embarrassed as when I had read the Daily Prophet. But this, this almost eclipsed it.

"You're sorry?"

"I said I was!" I snapped defensively. "Isn't that enough?"

"Then I accept your apology." said Malfoy coldly.

"Good."

"Good."

I stared at him a second longer before turning away once again, unable to continue looking into his cold, granite eyes.

What had I done? And more importantly, how could I fix it?

I wanted, with a very strong, almost desperate urge, to just rip all my bushy hair out.

Why was I so stupid? Why?

Merlin, this was a mess. I was stuck in gods knew where with Draco Malfoy, and I had just thrown myself at him in what must have been the most desperate and pathetic move ever made in the last millennium. I was beyond pathetic, in fact, I was such an arse that I didn't even know a word for it, and that's saying a lot because I bloody well knew a lot of words.

"Granger," came Malfoy's voice from far behind me. "We need to get out of here."

I shivered slightly at the coldness of his tone. Why was it that when Malfoy and I almost reached an accord, almost became friendly, something had to screw it up? Or with this time, why did I have to screw it up?

"How do you suppose we do that?" I asked, turning back around.

He studied me for a second. "Set up a portkey. I'm assuming you know how…?"

"But…"

"Just do it, Granger."

I chewed on my bottom lip apprehensively. "We shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because… your magic is bound. You know the portkey will draw on your magic in order to transport you, and that's bound to result in something undesirable." I explained stiffly, uncomfortable under his perusal.

"Muggles aren't effected."

"You know that's because they have no magic. You do, and the portkey will try and draw on it."

Malfoy sighed. "Just do it, Granger. Damn the 'undesirable' consequences."

"I don't think we should travel by portkey."

"Well we haven't got a choice do we?" he finally snapped. "it's either portkey or walk to bloody New Orleans. I'd rather portkey."

"Fine!" I stomped closer. "Give me your boot."

"What?"

"For the porkey!"

Malfoy glared before bending down and wrestling his boot off. He reluctantly handed it to me and without further ado, I laid my hand on it and murmured, "Portus".

I knew, of course, what would happen to Malfoy the second we arrived in New Orleans. In seventh year, when I had found out about what had happened to Jared the Jokester, I became intrigued by the prospect of losing one's magic, whether by having it bound or by a natural disaster. What I discovered was horrifying. Magic was a living force inside of wizards and while it wasn't a separate being, it was distinctly tied to the wizard. Having it bound or lost created some very bad consequences for the wizard, for example, steadily losing one's mind. Also, losing magic through a natural disaster didn't mean one lost one's magic, just that something was blocking one from being able to reach it. Therefore, a wizard could have very little to do with magic once their own was lost because the magic pulsing through them called to the magic used on them, and since the wizard's magic could not naturally answer the call to it, the wizard automatically became very sick.

Knowing all of this, I shouldn't have used the portkey, but I did because he had made me so upset. Normally, I would have been able to ignore his prodding, after all, I had been subjected to it for seven years of my life already, but nowadays, I no longer seemed able to deal logically with him.

Otherwise, I wouldn't have kissed him. Perhaps I was going insane?

Okay, bad train of thought, lets not go there.

So, bad-temperedly I created the portkey, knowing what would happen, and the consequences were what I deserved.

A very sick Malfoy on my hands.

The Portkey had manged to transport us to a deserted part of New Orleans, and we only startled one of two vagrants, whose memories I quickly erased. As soon as Malfoy hit to ground, however, he threw up all the contents of the in stomach and probably some of his internal organs as well. I immediately felt horrible for what I had knowingly done, so it was with deep guilt that I stunned him in order to stop his vomiting, since I knew that we needed to move quickly before someone found us.

The rest of that day passed in a blur. I had to stash Malfoy someplace while I conjured upID cards and such for myself, the entire time I was doing so i feared that American aurors would pick up on my unregistered wand. Once I had finished all that, I quickly made my way to the nearest bank and got some quick cash for emergencies. Then I went into a relatively nice looking hotel where I put down a cash deposit for adjoining rooms. Once that had been done, I guiltily made another Portkey to get Malfoy and myself into the room since I didn't know how else I was supposed to get him past the hotel staff and guests. Feeling wretched, I put him into bed and with a bucket beside me, I ennervated Malfoy and the next ten minutes passed with him vomiting. Not continuously, but after the first deluge, he would suddenly vomit again. Finally, he had nothing left in his stomach and was just dry-gagging.

The entire time I sat next to him and ran a cool, wet towel over his forehead. The poor man. I shouldn't have made a portkey, I had known what it would do to him. God, he was driving me crazy. It was as if instead of his magic being bound, it was mind, because I was starting to feel certifiably insane while Malfoy was still the cool voice of logic.

I helped Malfoy back onto his bed and got rid of the vomit filled bucket. When I went back into his room, Malfoy was sleeping, all the blankets thrown off of his body. For a second I just watched him, but then I began to notice that he was tossing around uncomfortably, no doubt because of his clothes and the fact that he was still wearing one boot.

Should I undress him, I thought, or should I just leave him as he is?

I badly wanted to stay as far away from him as possible, but he looked so miserable that I knew I had to do something.

I'll just get rid of his boot, I told myself.

I approached the end of the bed and tugged off his boot as well as his dirty socks. I stood back and looked at my handiwork, but it hadn't made a difference. He still looked bloody uncomfortable.

I closed my eyes. I'd have to be professional about this. I could take of Malfoy's clothes without looking, I wasn't tempted to look. I wasn't even attracted to him. Much.

Oh, Merlin, I was definitely losing it.

I hesitantly approached the head of the bed. Leaning down, I laid my hands on the buttons of his dirty shirt and slowly began to undo them. I got rid of that shirt to find him wearing an undershirt that was equally dirty. With trembling hands, I grabbed the him of it and inched the shirt upwards, trying my hardest not to stare at his delicious, no, well-defined sounded more impartial, abs. Then his undershirt slid past his pecs and I just about started to drool on him.

Get a hold of yourself, Hermione, I admonished myself, be professional.

I got rid of the undershirt and managed not to stare overly much. Then I moved onto his pants, which was pure torture. I managed to get those off with a lot of staring and I had to take a breather before I started on his boxer shorts. Let's just say that I was feeling very very warm and fidgety by the time I got those off. When I had finished stripping him, I drew the blanket over his body and quickly got out of there. I didn't think I could stand being in there without giving into temptation with a capital T.

So when I was back in my room, I stripped off all of my clothes then proceeded to take a very refreshing cold shower. It was a relief to be clean again and well, un-aroused.

When I went back to Malfoy's room, my hair wrapped in a pristine white towel and my body wrapped in one of those hotel-provided terry cloth robes, I was feeling heavenly. I approached Malfoy's bed and laid a hand on his forehead. It was burning. I knew that his body was currently going through an upheaval of some sort and was trying to bring everything back under control. I didn't know how long his magic-induced fever would last.

So saying, I went back to my room and transfigured the table cloth into a wearable skirt and my terry cloth robe into a tunic of sorts. I needed badly to do some shopping.

I left a note for Malfoy telling him where I went as well as a cup of cold water and a plate of sandwiches. Then, I set out on my adventure.

The Quarter was amazing. Filled with clubs, antique shops, and restaurants, I was mesmerized by it all. The music pumped loudly from all sorts of doorways, blues, jazz, rock, everything I had ever heard of. London was a dignified city, a proud mother who had a few seamy, secrets, but New Orleans was a teenager who gloried in her freedom, her newfound sexuality, and her beauty.

My eyes were wide as I tried to take all of this place in. It was amazing, the atmosphere, the humid heat that made one just want to take off all of one's clothes. The women were voluptuous and there was an air of exoticness and sexuality in the air that just made me goggle-eyed. I stared in the windows of shops I passed, windows filled with all manners of things, antiques, tourists items, advertisements for strip clubs.

As soon as I recovered from my awe, I went to the first car rental shop I saw. When I approached the desk I saw the clerk, a big black woman with hair that looked stiff with hairspray and eyes heavily lined with kohl, eyeing me with interest.

"How may I help you?" she asked.

I eyed her name tag, Joanne, and wondered if she'd be snotty like that other woman from the other car rental shop.

"I'd like to rent a car." I said, looking into her interested eyes.

"You're name?" She tapped something into the computer then looked at me questioningly.

"I…" I paused. Should I tell her my real name, I wondered. I mean, could Lestrange track me by my name? I shook my head and bit and realized that I was being silly. He was a wizard through and through, there was no way he'd know how to do that. Besides, I didn't really have a choice seeing that all I had was a credit card. "I'm Hermione Granger."

She tapped that in then waited with her shocking red lips pursed. "I'm sorry," she murmured, "you're Ms. Hermione Granger from Great Britain right?"

"Yes."

"We can't rent you a car."

"Why not?" I demanded.

"You've completely totaled a car that we've already let you rent." she looked solemnly at me, but I could see amusement in her eyes.

"Yes, but…" I had reported the accident to the business and told them where they could find it and that I would pay for the damages, but this was a different rental car place. "That was a different business than this one."

The woman, Joanne, leaned back in her chair. "Different business, cher, same company. Both are a branch of one company."

I nodded solemnly. "I see." What was I going to do? I needed a car in order to find the magical community in New Orleans. I mean, I knew that there was a magical community, I just didn't know where. And Malfoy probably knew where it was, but he wouldn't be up and about for a while.

My shoulders slumped and I gave the clerk a weak smile. "Well, thanks for your time." I turned to leave.

"Wait." she leaned over the counter and grabbed my shoulder.

I turned back around. "Yes?"

"Do you need help?"

"I need a car, but you're unable to give that to me." I shrugged. "I understand company policies."

"I know, and I'd give you a car if I could." she fluttered her hands haphazardly. "But, well, well I saw you rented a Porsche and those don't exactly come cheap."

I stared at her. "And?"

"Well, you're dressed like a beggar." I winced, but she went on, "Not that I mean to offend you, I just want t know why. Cher, frankly you look very lost and confused in our big, bad city of New Orleans."

I was, of course, but I wasn't going to let her know that. "I thought New Your was the big, bad city."

"New York is big." she grinned. "But it ain't as bad as New Orleans. It's the French, you know."

I smiled back. "I see. I," I paused, there would be any harm in telling this woman right? It couldn't possibly be any harm to tell her that I needed to find a place with to find some nice clothes and that I was completely and utterly lost and had no idea what to do. "I am a bit lost." I admitted, finally.

She just smiled. "So tell me what you need."

"Well, I need transportation."

"How much cash do you have?"

I thought about all the money I had withdrawn from my account. "Enough."

"Well, then take a cab. It's easier than driving yourself anyway."

"Okay. I also need new clothes. I, er, lost my luggage." Sort of, I added silently.

The clerk, Joanne, eyed my body. "Yes, you do. There's a bunch of boutiques on this street. Just go five shops down, and the next three boutiques you encounter are the one's I'll recommend. They've got quality stuff."

I nodded. Five shops down. Right. "Thanks." I said. "I've been through a lot, sort of, getting here." Just a little car chases, being cursed at, being captured, those sorts of things. "So thanks, for being the bit of sanity I needed to put me back into working order."

Joanne smirked. "Honey, my friends will tell you that I'm anything but sane. You're welcome though." She took my hand and give it a firm shake. "If you need anything else, I'll be here to help."

I smiled back and left.

When I went into the first shop, I was immediately given relief from all the hot humidity. The place was cool from an effective air conditioner and I could see that Joanne hadn't been lying she had said that this shop had quality clothes. I could tell from the atmosphere and the people browsing through the racks that this was a high-class boutique.

"Excuse me," a short woman with kind eyes approached me, "can I help you?"

I smiled at her and wished I didn't look frumpy and sweaty from my walk, "I, er, need a new wardrobe."

The woman stared at me. "An entire wardrobe?"

I fidgeted. "I, er, lost my luggage. Joanne told me that this was a nice place."

"Joanne at the car rental?"

"Um, yeah."

She smiled. "I'm Annie. If Joanne sent you, then you're welcome here. She's my cousin."

I stared, this delicate, white woman didn't look remotely related to that exotic, black woman I had just met. "Your cousin?"

"Through marriage." Annie took my arm and led me toward a spacious dressing room. "Do you know that we make money through commission? If your serious about needing an entirely new wardrobe, you can be my future child's godmother."

I laughed. "I'm serious. And, um," I blushed, "despite the way I'm dressed now, I can afford it." Since I knew she had to wondering because at the moment I didn't look like the type who could afford shopping at this boutique.

Annie smiled kindly at me. "I don't doubt it, not if Joanne sent you here." she rubbed her hands together with glee, "now, do you want me to help you pick out your clothes, or do you want me to let you pick out your own clothes, or would you like me to pick out all your clothes? I have exquisite taste, by the way, so you can trust me." she assured me.

I took in her tasteful attire with a blouse that hinted at cleavage and a skirt that molded to her hips. "I think I can trust you. I have really horrible taste."

Annie practically glowed. "Wonderful. Just sit here, and when I bring something in, try it on and say yay or nay." she said, then left without waiting for me to answer.

For the next three hours I tried on shirts, blouses, skirts, pants, shorts, shoes, bras, everything that Annie brought in. Mostly, I loved everything, even some of the daring things that she pressed on me, but even the ones I wasn't so sure about Annie made me get and since I trusted her judgment, I bought pretty much everything she approved, which was a lot.

After I had spend a huge amount of money that I could barely comprehend, I staggered out of the store once Annie and I had exchanged our profuse thanks. I could barely manage to flag down a cab, so laden I was with shopping bags.

Once I got to the hotel and once the doorman managed to get all my bags up to my room, I went to check on Malfoy. Since he hadn't touchedthe glass of water or the sandwichesI had left for him before I went shopping, I knew he had stayed asleep the entire time I was gone. Not only did he sleep, but his fever still raged with a hot fire I could feel in his forehead. The portkey traveling had made him sicker than even I could comprehend. I spent the next hour nursing him and giving him some fever medicine I had gotten from a muggle store earlier that day. Then, once room service brought dinner, I managed to get a little broth down his throat, and more water.

The next week passed uneventfully. Every day I explored some of New Orleans while I looked for the magical community. I kept my eyes peeled for anyone that looked the least bit magical, but saw no one. Every once in a while I stopped by the car rental shop to speak to Joanne, or the boutique to let Annie talk me into buying something else.

I also wore my new clothes and was amazed by my transformation. I no longer looked like a frumpy nobody, instead I looked sophisticated, and sometimes I even managed sexy. It was invigorating. It was, frankly, amusing. Imagine, Hermione Granger sexy. What a thought.

Malfoy was still sick. He had had some moments of lucidness, but mostly they were very short and he didn't seem to recognize me. He babbled a bit, but I paid no attention since none of it made sense. During the times when he was a bit conscious I used those opportunities to get as much food in him as I could. And I knew the lucidness wouldn't last because his forehead still burned terribly.

Every day I searched for the magical community, and by the end of that first week in New Orleans I was getting frantic. It had been maybe two weeks since Malfoy's powers had been bound, and he didn't have much time left.

Jared the Jokester, had by this time, in his diary, started getting forgetful and moody. The first signs had already shown themselves by the two week mark. And I was worried. About Malfoy.

If he didn't wake up in time, or if he woke up and was already insane, I didn't know if I could stand the guilt. I shouldn't have made the portkey. No matter that we had just kissed and I was confused and flustered beyond belief. I shouldn't have done it.

It was irresponsible, it was stupid, it was wrong, and if Malfoy didn't get through this, it'd be my fault. All mine.

On Monday, the beginning of the third week, I was sitting by Malfoy's bed holding his hand in between my own.

"Wake up, Malfoy." I told him. "You can't stay asleep forever. I need help in order to help you."

I gazed out of the window. I knew it was stupid to talk to him, since he couldn't talk back, but I couldn't stand the silence any longer.

"Look, you prat," I said, transferring my gaze from the window to him, "you can't just make me do all the work. You have to wake up and tell me where that place is. I can't find it all on my own and I know you know where it is!" I glared at his still face. "Isn't that just like you, Malfoy. You're probably just sleeping to spite me! For kissing you." I covered my mouth automatically for mention the kiss, and it took a few seconds to realize I hadn't let go of Malfoy's hands, instead I had brought it up with my own and was pressing it against my lips. Quickly, I dropped it. "Yeah, that's right. I brought up the kiss. And you know what? I'm not sorry." I whispered. "I'm not sorry for kissing you. It's your own fault for having utterly kissable lips." I shook my finger in his face. "Are you listening to me, Malfoy? Can you believe I just said you have utterly kissable lips? Do you realize how crazy you're driving me? I'm not being logical anymore. If I was I wouldn't be so fucking attracted to you! Do you know what Ron would say to me if he could see me now? He'd tell me I was crazy, and I'd agree. I am crazy. I'm going senile and I'm not even old enough for that. This is all your fault." His face was still so still and I wanted him to say something to me. Anything, I just wanted him to wake up. I didn't want him to keep sleeping. I didn't want him to go crazy.

"Fine, Malfoy," I said, dropping my face into my hands, "if you want to be stubborn and stay asleep, then go ahead. I refuse to feel bad if you end up in St. Mungo's ward for crazy people." I didn't realize I was crying until tears leaked out of my hands. "Look what you've done to me prat! I'm crying over you! Merlin kill me now, I can't believe it." I lifted my head and stared at Malfoy out of tear drenched eyes. "I told you that you were making me crazy! Do you believe it now? I'm crying! Over you! The impossible has happened!"

And still his eyes were closed and his face expressionless. "I hate you, Malfoy. You've been so nice to me lately, especially when you found out about Harry. I just don't get you! I don't! Really, you can't be anymore confusing! You're supposed to hate me! I'm supposed to hate you! That's how things go. That's what its supposed to be like. Instead, I'm here, nursing your sorry arse and crying over you! I hate you. And you won't even wake up so I can tell you! And when you do wake up you probably won't care because you'll be crazy!" I laughed slightly hysterical. "You'll be crazy."

I knew then that I needed to calm down. I sniffled and studied his face. He was so beautiful, but his face was so cold. His expression was so cold. I remembered him smiling, even laughing, and it was hard to equate that man with this stone-still man. I felt so guilty I could hardly stand it. I stood and leaned down to brush his hair from his face. His smooth face which I magically shaved every morning. Eventually, I straightened and left the room, unable to stand being in the same room with him any longer.

The next morning I was in there again for his daily shave. I set his head in the right position and as I leaned over him, as I was standing so close to him, the urge I had been suppressing for days finally overcame my restraint. Nervously, I looked around the room. Silly, I thought, no one would see.

Finally, I did what I had been wanting to do for days. I laid my lips on his lips and gave him a chaste kiss. I closed my eyes and felt his lips underneath mine, so soft and warm, despite his stillness. I moved over to his cheeks, then his nose. I kissed both his eyes, memorizing his face by the feel of it from my lips. With my eyes still closed I kissed his forehead, and that's when I realized something strange.

His forehead. It wasn't hot anymore. In fact, it was just a little warm. Normal temperature.

Surprised, I snapped back and straightened.

And that's when Malfoy moved. His eyelashes fluttered, then, slowly, he opened his eyes.

Malfoy gave me a sleepy smile. "Hello, Hermione. Wish you kissed me more often."

Yes, I should be burned, whipped, humiliated beyond belief for not updating. I'm very sorry. I lost interest in this story for a while. It's kind of in a transitional stage for the plot, and I'm still deciding what I should do with Hermione and Draco. There are just too many possibilities out there.

I'm also wondering if I'll continue this story once HBP comes out. I feel as if I've turned Hermione and Draco into characters that don't really go with the books, which can be just because they've developed in my story, which is natural, or they've been OoC the entire time and I just didn't notice.

We'll see what happens when HBP comes out. Until then, I'll try not to wait so long in between updates.

I'm really sorry!