Okay, to make up for the lack of action and drama in the last chapter, this one will be like a tribute to soap operas, but with less limey stuff... I hope o.O Intrigued? Keep on reading and review me! Characters are, as always, copyrighted to J.K. Rowling.

.:Chapter 4 – Confrontations:.

She could feel the cooling breeze of morning caressing her naked skin as she lay, partially veiled by silken bed sheets. Her amber eyes remained shielded behind their lucent eyelids, but she was no longer asleep. A blush of red clung to her pale cheeks giving her the appearance of renewed youthfulness and her once sleek hair was now splayed out, carefree across the crispness of the white pillow. A contented smile was emblazoned across her rose-flushed lips as she remembered the night just passed. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew it was wrong, but it had just felt so right. Her smile deepened as she recounted all the minute details of their night together; the way he had held her so close, the way his kisses made her gasp with pleasure, the beads of sweat that trickled down his muscular shoulders and abdomen mingling with her own. Sighing, she turned over, reaching out for his sleeping body... but her hand was met with cool emptiness. Her eyes flashed open silently confirming his absence.

"What did you expect, Granger," she muttered to herself angrily.

She felt her teeth bite into her bottom lip as the overwhelming feeling of regret crashed over her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, making her skin feel prickly all over. She felt physically sick ... until she caught a glimpse of a blaze of red sitting on her dressing table. Her eyes adjusted and focused on the image until the blaze of red transformed into that of a bouquet of a dozen roses. Hermione felt her mouth fall open as she stared in disbelief at their beauty; she could only guess who had left them. Smiling, she wrapped herself in the warmth of the sheets they had shared together and shuffled her way towards her dresser.

Hermione leant over and smelt the intoxicating aroma of the red blooms allowing it to coil around her senses. Her smile widened as she saw the card that had been propped up next to the vase. The message was simple, but still managed to convey so much:

Hermione,

Thanks for the coffee.

D.

The message, the flowers, the bed sheets she clung to so closely all brought forth more memories from the night they had spent together. She perched herself on the edge of the bed and hugged herself tightly, wishing it was him holding her instead of herself. Sighing, she lay back on to the bed thinking, reminiscing about the night that had just passed.

She felt Draco's hand begin to caress the small of her back, bringing her closer towards him as their kiss deepened. A kiss that was witnessed only by the pale moon in the midnight sky; even Time itself seemed to stop its monotony to allow for their moment of passion. Hermione felt her arms subconsciously move from her sides and wrap themselves around his neck. She could feel Draco's hand moving from her face, softly brushing over shoulder, down her side and gently settling on the curvature of her waist. She could feel herself pressing against him, further intensifying their kiss. Draco could feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest against his own, silently telling him things she would never dare say out loud. Gradually, under his initiation, their kiss came to a tender end.

"You'll catch a cold out here," he whispered softly in her ear, running his hands up and down her bare arms.

"I guess this is where I ask you to come in for coffee," she replied softly, resting her head against his chest.

Draco emitted a soft chuckle at her reference to the traditional muggle sentiment.

"I guess so," he murmured back; placing a curved finger under her chin, he lifted her face up towards his and placed a light kiss on her flushed lips.

Hermione removed the keys from her bag and quietly unlocked the door. Taking his hand in her own, she led him into the hall way, the door automatically closing and locking behind them. Gracefully, she allowed her stole to fall away from her shoulders and cascade on to the floor. Smiling, Draco placed his hands on her bare shoulders running his thumbs along the prominence of her collarbone and then slowly leant in placing gentle kisses along her exposed neckline. Hermione felt her eyes close and her breathing grow more ragged as she felt the line of his kisses tracing up her neck towards her ear. The heat of his breath against her naked skin filled her with an unspoken desire. She felt her hands parting his suit jacket and began deftly unbuttoning his shirt. Draco was surprised at her forwardness, but made sure his surprise did not show instead he kissed her fervently on the lips with an unbidden longing. Hermione felt her fingers brushing against his lower abdomen as his shirt fell open; her hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they ravenously explored what lay underneath.

"Are sure about this?" questioned Draco gently, breaking away from their embrace. He found his hands sliding down past her hips, resting on her upper thigh. She could feel the tips of his fingers exploring the skin underneath the hem of her dress sending tingles up her spine.

"More than anything," she whispered breathily as she grabbed his shirt, pulling him back into a renewed embrace.

The warm water that splashed on her face refreshed her as she stood motionless underneath the shower head, washing away the remains of sleep. She felt as if she were a completely different person today than she was yesterday, or any other day before the events that had unfolded the previous night. Sighing, she washed out the globular conditioner that clung to her hair and turned off the shower. Stepping out into the bathroom, she felt her skin erupt in goose-pimples as the cold hit her. Shivering, she grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it about herself and made for the bedroom once again.

Hermione was not the only one who couldn't get their mind off the night that had just passed. Draco was amazed that she had actually gone through with the whole thing; he was so sure that she would lose her nerve at the last minute... how wrong he was. He felt bad leaving her to wake up alone in the morning, but making excuses to leave her was probably even worse and he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He felt the strong autumn wind tearing at his suit jacket, trying to expose him as he made his way back to his apartment his head awash with the events that had just ensued. Somewhere deep down inside him, the urge to see her once again rose within him. He mentally scolded himself for developing even the slightest attachment to Hermione – it was not his original intention, but there was something about her that, well, captivated him. He couldn't put his finger on it exactly...

"Damn you, Malfoy," he muttered to himself as he turned on his heel and began walking back towards Prewett Square. Apparating at this time in the morning probably wasn't such a good idea.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind about the night before. He still hadn't worked out whether or not there was actually something going on between her and Potter. Surely, if there was then she wouldn't have let the events of the night before happen... Hermione just wasn't like that. However, he knew that Potter still had something to do with her; the mere mention of his name had almost driven her away from him in Ardesco. Stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets, he picked up his pace, hoping to catch her before she went out.

Hermione re-read the message Draco had left with the roses again and again; each time she read it, her stomach did somersaults. However, her happiness did not come for free; she still felt the pangs of guilt sting her when she thought about Harry. If he ever found this message, he would know what had happened. Hermione crushed the message in her hands and looked frantically around the room. If only it was like the Marauder's Map! Blank to unknowing eyes! Hastily, she put it in the bottom of her makeup bag in her dresser draw; she knew Harry would have no need to look there. It made her sad knowing that she was keeping all these secrets from Harry, but she resolved that today she would tell him that she just couldn't continue with their relationship. No matter how much effort she put in, she didn't get anything back. Harry was an empty shell and no matter how much she had cared for him, had loved him, it just couldn't be.

A loud CRACK shook her from her thoughts; she closed her dresser draw and made her way into the hallway. She heard the unbolting of the lock on the front door and felt the draft bite at her ankles as Harry came into the apartment. His hair was more mussed up then usual and he pulled his robes tightly about him even though he was no longer outside in an act that seemingly shut out any and everything. Hermione felt uncomfortable as she watched him drop his suitcase and walk towards the kitchen.

"How's Molly?" asked Hermione politely, knowing that if she didn't break the silence no one would.

"Fine," he replied absentmindedly as he finally loosened his grip on his travelling robes.

"And Arthur?" she asked again.

"Fine, everyone's fine," he snapped, discarding his robes over the banister.

Hermione felt herself crumple inside all over again; no matter how much she tried she had just lost the strength to deal with this situation.

"Harry?" whispered Hermione softly, her hands fidgeting uncontrollably.

"Yes?" he replied.

"I..."

His right eyebrow arched drawing attention to the now-fading scar that lay emblazoned above it. He watched as she searched for the words to tell him it was over.

"I don't think –,"

However, she was cut off before she could finish by the intermittent buzzing of the front door bell.

"Are you expecting anyone?" Harry enquired as he made his way to the door.

"No," she replied, shaking, fighting back tears of helplessness that threatened to break through her resolve.

Draco stood in front of 129 Prewett Square watching as a dark silhouette came walking towards the front door. Casually, he ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to neaten it up or at least make it look presentable. However, something was different about this silhouette from the one he saw last night; it was broader, taller and soon enough Draco's suspicions were confirmed.

"Harry Potter," smirked Draco, a sarcastic smile emblazoned across his face. "I should have known."

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" scowled Harry, his green eyes narrowing at the sight of the blonde haired man.

"I don't think that's really any of your concern," replied Draco, his smile dropping.

"Well I make it my concern to know why you are standing outside my house," retorted Harry, his fist clenched by his side.

"Still the same, aren't you Potter? Just can't keep your nose out of other people's business," snarled Draco, his arms crossed defensively against his chest.

"What possible business could you have here?" spat Harry, his face draining of any colour. "Neither me nor Hermione would ever have anything to do with you, so do yourself a favour and leave."

"Hmm," mused Draco, knowing that if he played his trump card he'd have Harry just where he wanted him. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

Harry's eyes narrowed further as he watched a sly smile tug at the corners of Draco Malfoy's mouth.

"Let me cut to the chase, Potter, is Miss Granger there?" he sighed sarcastically.

"What if she is?" replied Harry behind clenched teeth.

"Well, if you aren't going to be helpful, could you just tell her that I can't stop thinking about last night," whispered Draco softly yet loud enough so Harry could hear, "about everything last night."

Within a split second both men had their wands drawn and pointed at each others throats, the tip of each of their wand's burnishing with a fiery glow. Harry felt a rage rise inside him that he hadn't felt since that day.

"You lie," growled Harry, the point of his wand digging further into Draco's pale neck.

"What's the matter, Potter?" drawled Draco, seemingly unphased that he had a wand pointed at his throat. "Angry that I got there first?"

Harry's knuckles cracked as his grip on the wand tightened; the smug look of Draco Malfoy was more than he could stand.

"I bet it tears you up inside, doesn't it?" continued Draco, taking advantage of his opponents silence. "Knowing that it was me she longed for and not you."

"I swear," muttered Harry, his voice shaking with anger, "...I'll kill you where you stand."

"Now why don't I believe you?" whispered Draco, his wand tracing the contours of Harry's naked neckline, resting it underneath Harry's chin. "Kill me and you won't find out the answers I know you're just dying to hear."

"I don't care about anything you have to say," retorted Harry, lying through his teeth. "I'd rather see you dead than hear another word come out of your mouth, Malfoy."

"Shame," replied Draco acerbically. "But seriously, you have no idea what you were missing out on with Granger. She's hot stuff. Believe me, I know."

Before Draco could even smirk at his own comment, Harry suddenly lunged at him pushing him against the wall of porch, grabbing his jacket lapels his eyes burning.

"Don't push me Malfoy," whispered Harry dangerously, "or I swear in the name of all things holy, I'll kill you... and that's a promise."

Hermione lingered in the hall way grasping brief utterances of Harry's conversation with, who could only be, Draco Malfoy. She could hear his sardonic tones and see the bobbing of his blonde head through the bobbled glass of the front door. Her stomach lurched as she heard her name mentioned; she could not believe that Draco would go so far as to tell Harry what had happened between them the night before. Surely he wouldn't? He just... couldn't. Tears of frustration poured down her cheeks as she felt herself subconsciously wrap her arms around her fragile frame. She felt wretched inside, used and at Guilt's mercy.

"Oh, God," she whispered to the air, her voice broken with sobs. "No."

The next thing she heard was a loud slamming noise as a body hit the side of the porch wall; she was startled to her senses and crept closer towards the front door. Her breath rose and fell sharply as she reached out to open the door. To her horror, Harry had Draco pinned up against the porch wall, his wand ready in his hand.

"...and that's a promise,"

"Harry?" screamed Hermione. "What in God's name are you doing?"

Her desperate tones caused him to turn around and face her, his eyes no longer vacant but burning with anger so intense that she was silenced by it.

"Morning, Hermione," smiled Draco, brushing down his suit jacket that had accumulate dust from the brickwork. "Harry and I had some important business we had to tie up, didn't we Potter?"

Harry did not even grace Draco with an answer as his eyes and attention lay fixed on Hermione, his piercing emerald eyes meeting her watery amber ones with an unflinching stare. His right hand twitched uncontrollably at his side and eventually her silence pushed him off the edge...

The next thing Hermione felt was a stinging backslap across the right side of her face and the sound of flesh striking flesh. She felt her cheek burning as she clutched it in her hand. Her eyes were wide with fear and her whole body had begun to shake uncontrollably.

"H-harry?" she stammered. "I...I-,"

"Don't," he whispered, his voice shaking with both rage and hurt. "How... how could you do this?"

Hermione felt her eyes lower to the floor in shame, her silent tears spoke for her, but this wasn't good enough for Harry. Grabbing her shoulders, he searched her face for some semblance of an answer.

"How could you!" he shouted, shaking her forcefully. Hermione felt the painful grip of his fingers digging into her skin as her tears ran anew.

"Let her go," commanded a voice from behind Harry. "Or you'll wish you'd killed me when you had the chance."

Harry felt the familiar feeling of a wand being pointed at the nape of his neck and the sensation of burning spreading across his skin. His arms dropped from Hermione's shoulders and lay like rods of steel at his side. Draco outstretched his hand beckoning for Hermione to come over to him, but she remained riveted to the spot, shaking and sobbingly quietly. He could almost see the hurt mournfully enveloping her eyes as she met his steely grey gaze, her bottom lip trembling.

"Hermione, please," implored Draco, the slightest hint of desperation lingering in his voice.

"I... I can't," choked out Hermione. "I just can't."

"What's stopping you Hermione?" challenged Harry unexpectedly. "Surely this is nothing compared to last night!"

"S-stop," cried Hermione. "Just stop!"

"Why should I?" snarled Harry. "Ashamed are we?"

"Drop it, Potter," warned Draco, his wand digging in harder to the back of Harry's neck.

"No," replied Harry curtly. "I need to hear what happened from her."

"Harry, please," begged Hermione. "Don't do this."

"What?" replied Harry emotionlessly. "Reveal yourself for what you are? A Death Eater's slut?"

"I'm no Death Eater, Potter," snarled Draco, his anger causing more sparks to shoot from the end of his wand.

"Like father, like son Malfoy," retorted Harry. "Like father, like son."

Cliff-hanger or what? Guess not... ooo it was so fun writing that. Hope y'all enjoyed it too! Harry's got a bit of a mouth on him don't he? Anyway, reviews and constructive criticism welcome.