A/N - Sorry for taking so long to update, but I've been really busy. However, I've made this chapter interesting and have written about drumroll Draco! I've been getting many complaints about how there's not enough Draco and I've realised that it's true; it's a Draco/Hermione story, so from now on there's going to be more of Draco. I hope you all are satisfied!

Now, Elfinmaiden, 'happy' was spelt 'happ' on purpose to indicate that I was stopping mid-sentence. About the last paragraph being too long, I thought you of all people read long and complex books! I will, nonetheless, try not to make the paragraphs too long.

Well, that's all for now. Read, enjoy and review!

Chapter 14 – Draco, Danger and Magic

While Hermione slept soundly, not far away Draco was finding it impossible to even close his eyes. He was lying on his luxurious four-poster bed in his equally luxurious bedroom and there was nothing to stop him from falling into sweet dreams. Yet he could not.

He surveyed his room. It was large, plush and lavish. Anyone would have been satisfied with it, but Draco found it...dull. He found it boring and uninviting, just like everything else in his life. It was too predictable and too much the norm. There was nothing in his existence that was not tedious and boring, except for her...

Draco stopped himself. It was these thoughts that were making it unable for him to sleep. It was these thoughts that were making it unable for him to go about life in the way that he should. He must stop. He couldn't keep thinking about her. Even his father had noticed his lack of interest in everything that was happening. And his father never noticed anything.

Draco turned over and lay on his side. In just two days he would be engaged and in a month he would be married. Whenever he thought of it, a sick dread crept over him and he felt as if something very dear and precious was being taken away from him; the thing that was the dearest and most precious in the entire world to him. But because it was so beloved, he knew he had to let it go. He knew that for its safety and well-being, it had to be away from him. No one should find out what he felt for it. Not even her.

He sighed and lay awake for many hours before he could sleep. Even then he had nightmares that woke him up every once in a while. As a result when he woke up he was groggy, tired and sulky. He went down to breakfast and found his mother and father, reading the Daily Prophet, waiting for him. He blinked in surprise, because his father was rarely at home to join them for breakfast. It only annoyed him more.

"Oh, Draco, I'm so glad you're up! There are a million things to do and I didn't think I should do them without your opinion," exclaimed his mother.

"Go ahead," he said, in a slightly menacing voice.

His mother looked surprised. "Go ahead? But, Draco...don't you want to be involved in anything? After all, this is the most major event of your life."

"Marissa's coming, isn't she?" His mother nodded. "Fine, then, ask her."

"It does not become you to be so uninterested and lethargic," said his father in his usual cold voice, without looking up from his newspaper.

Anger boiled up inside Draco. "I'm perfectly aware of what is expected from me," he replied, through gritted teeth.

"Are you? Sometimes I wonder," said Lucius.

"You can ease your mind about it. I will do nothing unbecoming of my character," he said.

"I hope not," was all Lucius said in reply.

The rest of the meal passed in silence apart from Narcissa giving orders to all the servants that were scrubbing, polishing and decorating the house for the next day.

Draco was afraid of the anger building up inside him, though he knew it was justified. Anyone in his position would be outraged after everything that had happened.

After finishing his breakfast, Draco went back to his room just to get away from his parents. They were a constant reminder of all that had happened and was going to happen and Draco didn't want to consider either the past or the future. He was clinging on to the present, but it was slipping away from him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He held on as tight as he could, but it was no use. Every moment brought him closer to reality, to the truth about his life. He wished he could freeze time, but even the darkest magic didn't have that power.

Alone in his room he let his thoughts run free. He thought of her and how much he wanted her. How much he wanted to take her in his arms and hold her tight, shelter her from the whole world and never let her go. He wanted to kiss her sweet, ever-smiling lips and run his fingers through her hair. He wanted to count how many freckles there were on her nose and kiss each one of them. He wanted her to know that he was always there for her, that he would do anything for her. He wanted her to know that she was the most important thing in his life and that was why he didn't do any of the things he so badly wanted to. He wanted her to know that the only reason he was hurting her was her own safety. She would get over him, find someone else, but he would never forget her. She was his love, his life and his truth. Nothing and no one could ever take her place.

The force of the emotions going through him was so great that his head started hurting. With the great love came the great despair, the anger and the sorrow. They were the most powerful sensations that he had ever felt. The hatred and selfishness that he had been brought up to feel were nothing compared to the passion he felt now. Everything melted away in front of it.

There was a knock on the door of his room and he was actually relieved to be disturbed from his musings. "Come in."

A sober housemaid entered with a stack of letters. "These have come for Master Draco today."

"Leave them on the desk, please."

The maid did as she was told and arranged the letters neatly on the old wooden desk. Draco glanced through them and saw that most of them were felicitations. He threw them in the waste-paper basket and was left with three. One was a letter from Pansy Parkinson and he was tempted to throw that in, too, but he resisted the urge. He put it aside to read later. Another was a letter concerning some books he had ordered and the last was an envelope with a familiar handwriting that made his thump at a very alarming rate. He tore it open and it read:

'Dear Draco,

I know you're probably really busy and don't have a lot of free time, but I'm staying with Harry and I know your house is pretty close, so I was wondering if you wanted to meet up for lunch at Plusha's. You're going to be much busier after this and it would be nice to spend some time together while we can. It'd be really nice if you could make it; just like old times.

Hermione'

Draco was overjoyed with the letter. Trust Hermione to come up with a brilliant idea! All this time he had been pining over not being able to be with her and here she was inviting him for lunch and doing what he could have done all along.

He looked at his watch and found it was eleven o'clock. He knew Hermione liked to eat lunch early and that she would probably be at Plusha's by noon, so he immediately started getting ready, humming a tune while doing so.

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Hermione sat in Harry's warm living room with a cup of tea in her hand. She was waiting for him to take out something he wanted to show her. She had no idea what it was and was quite curious about it.

That morning she had woken up with the firm resolution of breaking up with Kevin as soon as she got back home. She had realised it was not only unjust to pursue a relationship with him, but also futile. He was a nice guy, but she knew it could never work out even without the Draco factor. As for Draco himself, she had decided that though she could never be as close to him as she would like, she would always be a good friend and she did want to spend time with him, so she had invited him for lunch.

As she waited for Harry, she picked up Witch Weekly and idly flipped through the pages. She hadn't really read it since it had started publishing nasty rumours about Harry, but it had now stopped, and having nothing better to do, she scanned the pages for something interesting. The words 'DEMENTORS DEMENTED' loomed in large bold letters in a small caption. Curious, Hermione read the article.

'According to undisclosed sources, the dementors in Azkaban have been acting very strangely lately. The guards of the prison have been leaving their positions and disappearing for hours on end. They have also become generally careless and lax about the security of the prison, leading some wizards to raise the old question of where their loyalties lie. These reports were kept a secret from the wizarding world for fear that the issue of Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge's capability to govern the wizarding world would once again be raised.

The Minister's assistant, Percy Weasley, however, insisted there was nothing unusual happening in Azkaban. "These reports are entirely false and fabricated. The dementors are guarding the prison as per the instructions given to them and we are facing no problems with them. Whoever made up these reports obviously wants to show up the Minister in a bad light, but they will not succeed," he was quoted as saying. Fudge was unavailable for comment.'

Hermione was shocked by the article. If it was true, it could mean very bad news. Dementors were dangerous creatures and if they started flaunting the rules and doing as they pleased, a lot of horrible things could happen. She was just considering this when Harry walked into the room. He noticed the look of concern and worry on her face and asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, just this article I was reading," she replied.

"What article?" he asked.

She picked up the magazine and showed it to him. "Dementors demented."

Harry quickly read through it and his face grew weary and hard. "Yes, I've read things like this. This is not the first article about the behaviour of dementors; there've been a lot of them recently. It's one of the reasons why Dumbledore's so concerned about the Scotland thing. These things could be interlinked."

"Yeah, they could," said Hermione and there was silence for a few moments; both were deep in thought. Then Hermione asked, "You said you had something to show me?"

Harry jerked out of his thoughts. "Huh? Oh yeah, here it is." He opened his palm to reveal a very intricately carved pendant in a very odd, very enchanting shape, hung on a thin gold chain. The pendant was incredibly beautiful and the very air around it emanated magic. It was a fusion of colours, like blue, violet, pink, green etc. and each colour could be seen at all times. It was not scratched or damaged in any way, yet one could tell by looking at it that it was very old. The shape was curved, twisted and straight in different parts of it and could have been made an entire study of.

"Oh, Harry...it's so beautiful," whispered Hermione, enthralled by the object. She reached out to touch it and felt a wave of energy run through her body. "Wow..."

"It's pretty amazing, isn't it?" he grinned. "Dumbledore gave it to me. It belonged to my mother and it's obviously enchanted in some way, but I can't figure out how. Dumbledore says that I'll figure out when I need to, though."

"Oh, yes, you definitely will," said Hermione, with complete faith. There was something so magical and so powerful about the little pendant, she had no doubt everything about it would fall into place.

"Anyway, it's a quarter to twelve and you have a date with Draco, so we should get going," said Harry, putting the pendant away.

"Harry! It's not a date!" she said.

"Well, you two like each other and you're meeting up for lunch. If that's not a date, I don't know what is," replied Harry.

"It's a rendezvous between two friends," replied Hermione. "Besides, we don't even know if he likes me."

"I think he does," said Harry.

"That's all you can do," she joked, though she hoped against hope he was right.