"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, wrapping the cloak tighter around herself as if it would help her blend into the upholstery.

"That's not an invisibility cloak, Hermione." He laughs, glad that he still knew her well enough to interpret her idiosyncrasies. He sobered at that thought, choosing the blunt line of questioning. "What's up with you anyway? You haven't been yourself this year?"

"I'm fine." She said, looking past him to the door. Harry sidestepped to reenter her line of vision, his head tilted to the side, grin broadening at her rueful smile.

"Why don't you sit down?" Harry pulls her towards the nearest sofa without waiting for an answer. "We could talk?"

"You need to study and I was going for a walk." Hermione watched his face critically to make sure she hadn't hurt in refusing. Guiltily she realized that she had hardly spoken to Harry since the Weasley's this summer.

He, however, had already anticipated her response. "Ok, I'll let you go. After you tell me what Ron did."

"Ron didn't do anything." Hermione lied smoothly but immediately crinkled her nose. She hated how much lying had suddenly become necessary. Why was everything so complicated this year, she wondered. Harry's raised eyebrows almost made her look away, but with a struggle she maintained the eye contact, never noticing her fingers slowly drifting up to her lips.

"He kissed you?" Harry was shocked, even though he knew full well that Ron liked Hermione… liked her very much. He leaned back as calmly as he could, suddenly realizing that his face had jerked to within a foot of hers.

"I wouldn't really call it a kiss." Hermione demurred, adding to herself "I'd call it a death clamp on my mouth."

"OK, then." Harry swallowed. Hermione almost reached out to hold his hand, sensing his confusion. Harry couldn't rationalize it. He'd done very well with the abstract knowledge that Ron liked the girl who was like his little sister. But no big brother likes to hear that his sister actually got kissed by his best friend, no matter how much he might support the idea objectively. Looking slightly dazed, Harry wandered off back to his dorm leaving Hermione cursing under her breath at all the complications and dashing through the portrait hole, knowing that Harry wouldn't be in the mood to wonder what she was doing for a while.

She pulled aside the curtain of leaves and Draco jumped up. "You're late."

"I know. I'm sorry. I was… delayed." Hermione looked down, not even wanting to think about all the strange happenings with Harry and Ron.

"By who?" Draco presses.

"Does it matter?" Hermione snapped back, regretting it immediately. He only looked at her appealingly and pulled her down onto the carpet of moss, a hand on her upper arm half comfortingly, half possessively. "I'm sorry. Harry was in the Common Room. He wanted to talk."

Draco nodded and Hermione beamed at him, relieved. She knew that it had to be hard for him, not only to be so alienated from his own house, but for her to have two guy friends… or perhaps only one now. Hermione considered this as Draco scooted closer and took her hands. They were icy cold and he immediately blew on them and began rubbing them. "What's wrong? You're all… edgy today." His hands did not leave hers, although the cold half of his mind analyzed her reaction to this, noted that she leaned in towards his chest, and tried to congratulate his reflexes for it. He hated that manipulative part of himself, preferring instead to focus on her and what his intuition was screaming. "Did something happen after you went up to the castle last night?"

Hermione opened her lips to lie again, but she closed them, a tear running unnoticed down her face. Unnoticed by her at least. "I'm so sick of lying!" Draco was shocked. He genuinely didn't understand but that didn't stop him from wrapping his arms around her, kissing her hair, and holding her close to his firm chest with strong arms. For a second, Hermione thought that this guy could be enough for her.

Then she pulled away from him, shifting onto her knees in front of him, taking a hand in hers and examining it down to the carefully manicured nails. "Draco, this isn't going to work. I can't do this anymore!" Her eyes drifted up to meet his, begging him to understand, imploring him not to hate her. "I'm lying to Harry and he's like my brother. I've ruined my friendship with Ron and I can't even concentrate in classes. You saw Potions today! I'm not doing my homework, I'm daydreaming and I… I can't stand lying anymore. I've never lied to them. I don't… I can't… please, Draco…"

Draco didn't attempt to deny that he was hurt and the twitching in his jaw and clenching of his fist showed the anger flickering just below the surface. He nodded, "I should have known." Dirty Mudblood, his brain added, furious, wanting to hit her, wanting to shake her and hold her close to him whether she liked it or not. He was a Malfoy and if he'd chosen her she ought to damn well cooperate. Who was she to turn him down? Then he remembered, she was Granger, Mudblood bookworm extraordinaire, prudish Gryffindor teacher's pet, who had let him kiss her into a wall just outside the Great Hall, who had let him cast a spell over her, who had trusted him, excited him, thrilled him.

He shook his head, and whispered, "I'm glad. Even if it's only two short days… I'm glad." He kissed her forehead and, as he hesitated before pulling away, Hermione felt his breath break warmly upon her forehead. She could almost feel him begging her to take back those words and she wanted to. But she couldn't. Because she did mean it and she couldn't live every day lying to the people she loved. He nodded again, feeling her resolve as she stiffened and he stood and walked away, his form tense with anger. Before the willow curtain he had brushed aside had stilled, Hermione had begun to cry.

Even Lavender, who had been so scandalized by Hermione's disheveled appearance the night before could sense her heartbreak intuitively. The girls banded together as if they had never had their difference to support their fallen classmate, even if they did whisper quietly that it was a miracle she'd found someone to break her heart. Then they saw Ron's ferocity and understood, or so they thought. Last year, Hermione would have found their fussing infuriating, but after Draco with the memory of his body against hers flickering just behind her eyes and the taste of him lingering on her lips, it helps.

She didn't have to go anywhere alone, there was always one of them there and normally more than one. She had been adopted into the flock and they were sweeter to her than she could have imagined. But every time she passed Draco in the hallways she could feel his eyes, staring through all of them, staring at her and it kept her permanently on the edge of tears. Hermione threw herself into her schoolwork with a passion that even Snape could not find fault with. Professor Psyche eventually pulled her over after class and, even with the crowd of Gryffindor girls around Hermione, she disregarded any semblance of authority.

"Hermione, maybe you should take a break. Take tomorrow's class off. It's only going over the test and you have a hundred and twenty seven percent. Take tomorrow off." The other girls immediately clamored their approval, repeating to Professor Psyche how Hermione hadn't slept the night before and how distracted and listless she'd been lately. Hermione's response was only to hang her head.

"Hermione, if you appear in any class tomorrow, I will personally take you back to the hospital wing." The DADA mistress's eyes briefly take on the sheen they had the first day of school and Hermione knew that she was ready to unmask the raw power that had made her sick that first day. She nodded, deciding that taking the day off tomorrow would be preferable to a day and a night in the hospital wing, feeling truly ill. Professor Pysche assured her student that all the teachers would be informed and that she was to stay in bed.

But Hermione quickly found that lying in bed did not help her heartache. By ten o'clock she was so fed up that she threw off the covers and decided to see if she could find something to eat. Late breakfasts were very unofficial but she knew how to get to the kitchens. The house elves rushed to find her all the food they had, which was a lot, and Dobby bantered on as she picked at her food. The food was hard to swallow, but former SPEW-president and founder couldn't bring herself to insult the elves by coming here, troubling them, and then not eating the food. Finally she gave up eating and excused herself, carrying the food with her, saying that she needed to study but promising to eat it all up stairs.

By eleven o'clock Hermione was sick of her dormitory. She knew she had to get out but there was nowhere to go. A huge rainstorm the night below had the willow flooded and deep in mud, but Hermione wanted to be somewhere where she could have the slightest daydream of Draco. Then an idea struck.

"Accio Marauder's Map!"

The map flew into the room and Hermione seized it and tapped it with an eager wand. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." She scanned the map for a few seconds before noticing the little imperfect rectangle labeled "Penelope's Garden." There was no one there and, after biting her lip guiltily, Hermione added another charm. "Accio Invisibility Cloak!"

She entered the Garden, tucking the Map into her robes, sure that no one would come there in the middle of third class, at eleven fifteen in the morning. She moved impatiently to the spot where Draco had kissed her and lay there, pretending that the bent stalk beside her had been crushed by their tumbling. Then Hermione realized that it was not so impossible… it was less than a week earlier that she had been here with him. Less than a week ago, she came back from home.

Sitting there she allowed her head to fall back into the grass, curls spreading out haphazardly. She remembered Draco as he was, before his year in Durmstrang. Arrogant and angry, pure evil, she had thought. But her mind was now awake with new knowledge and fresh eyes. She saw his insults wane, saw him off guard around her. She had never wondered why she had been able to hit him, but having felt his biceps and memorized his body, Draco was no weakling. He must have had feelings for her even then, even though he wouldn't admit it to himself. Then she remembered what he said to her. That he had been sent to Durmstrang because he couldn't stop thinking about her. And that even there he was jealous of Krum because Krum had been her boyfriend.

Had been? Technically, Hermione supposed that Krum still was her boyfriend. Guiltily she remembered that she hadn't really broken up with him. He had written to her and she had gotten the letter just a few days ago, too depressed over Draco to even read it. She hadn't opened it, just tossed it onto her desk and gone back to bed. She wondered if she should even open it, after everything. Even if she was still "with" Krum, Draco really did count as something. And she didn't want that something to be sneaking around and cheating.

Hesitating, torn between wanting to read Krum's slightly stilted by affectionate mumblings and her sudden guilt at her unfaithfulness, Hermione summoned the letter. With it in sight it was a seconds pause before Hermione tore open the envelope to find reassuringly familiar sentiments.

Der Hermione,

I was so happy to se you at the World Championsips this sumer. My English is geting better each day. I kno I havent wrote in a while but I am talkin to the peeple who run the Championsips. I want to play for a English teem next year. I am citizen now. If they don't let me I doant know wether I will play for Bulgaria again or if I will look for a job at Hogwarts for your last yer their.

I havent herd from you in a while. I mis you. I knew that you wood get this at Hogwarts. Plese write back to me. I come se you at Christmas. Dumbledore sayd he wood keep havin Christmas bals. Maybe I come befor then.

I love you, Hermione.

Viktor.

The letter was hardly Shakespeare, Hermione laughed, but she knew that he loved her. Equally, she knew that she didn't love him anymore and that she would have to tell him soon. But how, that Hermione had no idea. How does a sixteen year old girl let adown a twenty one year old internationally famous Quidditch player?

A noise in the garden made her jump. Someone was definitely approaching and shivers ran down Hermione's arms as she thought of Mr. Malfoy. She threw the cloak over herself and waited. She'd grown slightly and she had to jump into a crouching position to be sure that she was covered. Hermione noticed angrily the silver safety pins glistening along the hem of the expensive material and audibly sighed, "Boys."

Read and Review please! More (and longer) very very soon.