Disclaimer: All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

A.N. Wow, so apparently, you guys were all waiting for that moment when Draco finally kissed Hermione, huh? You were probably all ready to kill me for dragging it out that long, but, alas, I'm horrible when it comes to getting to the point of any story I write. I tend to over-analyze things, and take my time developing things. But anyways, I just wanted to tell you now, this is not going to be a happy chapter. After all, for every good thing that happens in here lately, there seems to be ten bad things that happen. Ah, well, since you guys love me so much, you'll put up with it. I can only hope. Anyways, read on, and try to enjoy it. Oh, and, I wrote this while listening to Coldplay's "Fix You," so it might help you as well to get the mood right if you listen to it.

Come What May

Chapter Fourteen

After a brief respite to the Burrow for the holidays, Hermione returned with Ron, Harry and Ginny to Hogwarts a few days before the new term was to begin.

It was hardly what you would call a relaxing holiday for her. The week before Christmas was almost unbearable for her to endure. Remembering the past holidays with her parents only brought a wrenching ache in her heart now. It seemed all progress she made before leaving the school was rapidly fading away. She was retrogressing, badly.

Draco didn't want to leave her for the holidays. But his mother had insisted on him returning home for Christmas, and as she was only happy under the influence of alcohol or when Draco was around, he figured he might as well return home just this once to keep her from killing herself from an overdose of alcohol, which was becoming more and more likely as the months passed.

Draco also wanted to bring Hermione home with him for the holidays, but he knew it would be next to impossible the way Narcissa behaved anymore. He never knew what would set her off when she was drunk; and he was pretty sure that the sight of Hermione in her house just might do the trick to send her reeling.

So Hermione was left to cope with the boys and Ginny at the Burrow for almost two weeks. She did her best to hide her pain, but it was starting to become more and more difficult, despite trying to remember the night of the Christmas Ball, which had been the happiest night of her life in a long time. She tried to remember feeling so close to Draco, and feeling almost invincible, and that everything was really going to start going right again.

But try as she might, she felt as though she was drowning again. She longed for Draco and his touch, and his sweet whispers to drive it all away, as he did every time he came near her anymore. She felt as though she was addicted to him, and without her drug, she could not find the strength to live anymore.

She could tell by observing the boys that they were happily oblivious to her plight; the only things they cared about at the moment were midday snowy sessions of Quidditch in the field behind the house, and the presents that they would be receiving on Christmas morning.

She couldn't hide it so well from Ginny, however. She often caught Ginny watching her closely, scrutinizing just what was going on inside Hermione's head. She tried her best to smile whenever she caught Ginny watching her, but in truth, she didn't think she could carry on much longer like this.

Ginny knew what was bugging her the most. The loss of her parents was coming back full force to bite her in the ass with the holiday, and she wished she could find a way for Hermione to block out the memories of happy Christmases of the past.

She wasn't exactly happy, either, with the way the boys were acting towards Hermione at the moment. It was almost as if they were indifferent to her misery. Well, she couldn't blame them at all entirely. They were so stupid sometimes! They had no idea just what was going on with Hermione at the moment, and it was royally pissing her off. She decided she would pull them aside and have a little heart to heart with them, to pull their heads out of the clouds, so to speak.

She seized her chance after dinner on Christmas Eve. She pulled them aside after Hermione disappeared upstairs to have a shower, knowing they wouldn't be so easily overheard by the distraught girl.

"What's going on, Gin? Why are you looking like you're ready to kill us?" Ron asked after she shut the door to the pantry in the kitchen.

"You two are just so happily oblivious, aren't you?" Ginny hissed, her face turning a delicate shade of red, a warning sign.

"Mind explaining yourself, sis?"

"Hermione!" she exploded.

The boys cringed, looking fearfully at Ginny.

"What about her?" Ron dared to ask.

"Have you not noticed the type of mood she's been in all week?" she hissed, her face now scarlet.

"Erm, well," Ron started.

"She is so upset at the moment, she's about ready to slash herself again! Or have you two been so wrapped up in Quidditch and the thought of presents that you are completely stupid to everything else!"

"Ginny, what can we do?" Harry asked carefully, trying not to enrage the redhead further.

"Talk to her! Let her know that we're here for her! She's hurting right now! I keep talking to her every night before we go to sleep, but she's not there! She's so wrapped up in the past, she can barely cope with the present! And she misses you two! You haven't been paying enough attention to her lately! All you care about is yourselves!"

The boys actually stepped back from her, as she was practically yelling now.

"And another thing," she started in.

The boys winced.

"Oh don't give me that, you fucking pansies! I think there's something more to her depression. Do you remember the Daily Prophet at the beginning of the week?"

Harry actually snarled in anger. "How could we fucking forget? Those Ministry fucks have got to be sitting on their fucking brains!"

"You mean Lucius Malfoy's release from Azkaban?" Ron asked.

Harry actually smacked him upside the head.

"The hell! Harry, what the fuck, mate?"

"You are so fucking slow sometimes, mate," Harry said with a disgusted shake of his head.

"That is precisely what I am talking about, Ronald. There is something more going on in her head than what she's letting on. She's scared as hell. Who wouldn't be? After what that. . .that fucking animal did to her! This has something to do with that goddamn curse he put on her, I can feel it."

"So what do we do?" Harry asked more urgently, hearing footsteps approach the pantry.

"Well, there's really nothing we can technically do about the curse, I mean, that's Draco's area of expertise, he's the one that has to save her from that, and we're not due back to school for almost another week. But we need to talk to her, tell her it's okay to cry. I know she needs it. She hasn't cried a tear around me, and I know for a fact that Draco's heard her crying sometimes before she would go to sleep at night. She needs a shoulder to cry on at the moment."

The door suddenly opened to reveal a pale faced Hermione. She looked at them suspiciously.

"Why are you three in here? Everyone's wondering where you're at."

"Just having a friendly chat out of range of listening ears," Ginny said quickly, stepping out of the pantry and taking Hermione's arm. "Let's go find the others, shall we?"

She still looked at them suspiciously, but didn't say another word until they all entered the living room, where the rest of the Weasley family was congregated, as well as Remus Lupin, Tonks, and Mad Eye Moody.

Lupin opened his mouth to say something to Hermione about her dark shadows under her eyes and her apparent loss of weight, but upon catching Ginny's eye, he seemed to think better of it.

Hermione sat down on the couch between Ginny and her brother Charlie. Whether it was the look on her face or the fact that Ginny had said something to him, Charlie put a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

To her horror, she found her throat closing up and tears welling in her eyes. She looked up at him and tried to say something, but couldn't seem to find the words.

He nodded understandingly and patted her shoulder again before returning to his conversation with Mr. Weasley on the dragons he was caring for in Romania.

Hermione tried to settle herself further back in the couch, in an attempt to disappear completely from the face of the earth.

How on earth was she supposed to make it without Draco here, telling her she was going to be all right in the end?

Draco almost died when his father came waltzing into the dining room of their manor three days before Christmas. The orange juice he had been attempting to swallow came right back out into his glass when he saw his father walk through the door.

Narcissa, only slightly drunk at ten in the morning (quite a miracle considering her drinking habits of late), stood up clumsily from her chair and stumbled over to her husband, slurring happily at his sudden arrival.

"Dare I even ask?" Draco muttered, looking disgusted at the sight of his mother and father together.

"Watch your mouth, Draco," Lucius said dangerously, giving his son the type of look that made Draco sure that he was in for it later on.

"Oh, can't we just get along for once? It's almost Christmas!" Narcissa sang as she swayed back to her chair to grab her glass of orange juice (which was probably spiked with firewhiskey or the like).

"Oh yes! Christmas! How could I possibly forget, Mother?" Draco sang sarcastically.

He ducked as his father's hand swung out of nowhere.

"Well, I think I'll just go upstairs and have a shower, shall I?" Draco excused himself lightly.

"I'm not finished with you, boy!" Lucius snarled, reaching out to grab his son's arm.

"Lucius, do leave him alone. It's almost Christmas, and he's had enough of your anger to last him a life time," Narcissa spoke up suddenly.

Draco was to the door when his mother's sharp cry of pain reached his ears. He whipped around to see his father towering over her, his hand raised. Narcissa was clutching her cheek, which had a brilliantly red handprint on it.

"You bastard," Draco hissed. "How the hell did you get out of Azkaban this time? Oh wait, that's right, you've got half the Ministry drawing its pay out of our pockets! How could I be so stupid? What's the matter? Couldn't get your fix beating on me and Hermione? So now you've got to take it out on Mother?"

Lucius advanced on him, his eyes glowing with rage. "You stupid little boy! I told you to finish Granger off! And what have you done? You've gone and fallen for her! What of the plan, Draco? What of your master?"

"I HAVE NO MASTER BUT MYSELF!" Draco bellowed with rage.

Lucius whipped his wand out of nowhere, but Draco was quicker.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Lucius fell to the floor, stiffer than a board.

Narcissa stifled a cry.

Draco walked over to her. "There, there, Mother. It's not so bad. But I can't stay here. Not with him out. He'll kill me. I defied his orders. And if he doesn't kill me, the Dark Lord will. It's not safe for me here. I need to go back to school," he explained, patting her shoulder awkwardly.

Lucius stared up at him unblinkingly, the hatred apparent in his eyes even in the Full Body Bind.

"Have a nice Christmas, Father," Draco said sarcastically, stepping over him and walking out of the room.

He knew where he needed to be. He needed to be with Hermione. He knew with his father's release that there would be troubled weeks ahead for the both of them, and he needed to be there to calm her fears when she found out.

He wasn't going to let his father destroy the both of them.

Hermione sat whimpering on the floor of their bathroom at Hogwarts, leaning against the wall and holding a knife in her hand. She rocked back and forth, shaking her head, not liking what she was hearing.

'You're a worthless piece of human waste,' the Voice hissed in her head.

"No, no. . .I'm not, I'm not!" she whimpered.

'You don't deserve to live, Mudblood! You deserve to die like your parents did! At the hands of Fenrir Greyback! He'll slash your pretty face to bits! And what's left, he'll make dessert out of! Won't that be grand?'

She shook her head violently, great fat tears leaking out of her eyes as she rocked. "Please, stop. I don't want to die!"

'Wouldn't it be lovely to see old Greyback again? Or your parents? Imagine seeing them again! Wouldn't it be grand? And I'm sure once Fenrir is finished with you, you can die miserably and alone, just like your precious parents,' the Voice hissed, every syllable dripping with sick sarcasm.

Hermione cried out, not wanting to use the knife in her hand, but really not finding any other option. She couldn't keep living like this, she couldn't keep listening to this Voice. Now that Lucius was out of Azkaban again, it wouldn't leave her alone. And she had the strongest feeling that the Voice was indeed Lucius himself now, trying to exact revenge on her for being locked away.

"Hermione?"

And now he was playing tricks on her, making her believe that she was hearing Draco calling her name. He truly was a sick human being. If he even was human.

"Hermione? Where are you?"

She clenched the knife tighter in her grasp, looking at her sad little wrist, covered in slash marks. It was never going to end, this madness. She was either going to kill herself trying to get rid of it, or die at the hands of Greyback. It was never going to end.

She brought the knife slowly down towards her wrist, finding a clear spot to make her mark. Her tears were running faster now, dreading the pain, and welcoming it. She had to take control of the situation. The pain would bring release. And with release would come numbing relief.

A hand seized her wrist before she could drag the blade across her skin.

She let out an anguished scream and struggled for the knife.

"Hermione, it's me, it's Draco. Hermione, let go of the knife! It's all right, I'm here!"

She didn't believe it was him. He wasn't here, it was all the Voice's doing. Just a figment made up to make her feel more vulnerable.

Draco managed to wrench the knife from her grasp and threw it into his bedroom before kicking the door shut. There was no way in hell he was going to let her get after it again.

He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, making her look at him. His sweet Hermione, her face crumpled and tear stained.

"Hermione, what's happened to you?" he whispered, pulling her into him.

She buried her head in his shoulder and sobbed. His grip on her wrists lessened, and he held her closer, letting her cry.

"It's him! Draco, it's him! He's the Voice!" she kept sobbing into his shoulder.

"Shhhh, it's all right. I'm here. He can't hurt you," he whispered, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

Of course it was him. He wasn't going to let go until he had killed the both of them. There was no escape from this madness. Not with his father and Nemesaris out on the loose, waiting for the right moment to exact their revenge on them.

He picked her up and carried her out of the bathroom and downstairs to the couch in front of the fire. Slytherin and Gryffindor looked down upon them from their places above the fireplace.

"What ever is the matter now?" Slytherin asked indifferently.

Gryffindor gave him a dirty look. "Can't you see the poor girl is troubled? Leave them alone, I say, Slytherin, or I shall have to hex you."

Slytherin looked over at him scornfully. "You think you can scare me?"

"Here's an idea: both of you shut the fuck up, or I shall make you," Draco growled as he sat down on the couch, pulling Hermione's legs over his lap and allowing her to lay her head on his shoulder.

Both of the founders looked down on him, but remained silent.

Draco pushed her hair away from her face to look at her. She looked terrible. Her eyes had deep, dark shadows underneath them, her skin had a papery look about it, and her cheeks had a hollowed out look, as though she had given up on eating entirely.

"I don't know how this happened, but I promise, I will make it right,"he whispered fiercely, kissing her on the forehead and smoothing her hair away from her face.

Two more tears leaked from her eyes as she burrowed closer to him. She was so afraid Lucius would show up at any moment and take her away. She no longer felt safe unless she was in Draco's arms.

"I don't know what's happened to me, Draco. I'm fading away," she whispered.

"No, you're not fading away. You're right here with me. Do you understand? You're not fading away. You're not going anywhere. I won't let that happen."

"It's getting worse, Draco. I can hear them pleading with Greyback. I don't just hear the Voice anymore. I hear them too. Their pleadings for their lives. And I can hear Greyback ripping them apart. Draco, I can't stand it anymore! I want it to end! I can't live like this anymore!" Hermione was practically screaming in hysteria.

"Listen to me. Hermione! Listen to me. You are not going anywhere! You are right here with me! Don't listen to the Voice! Listen to me! You have to block them out, okay? You cannot keep listening to them! You'll only destroy yourself faster! You have to distract yourself!"

She looked up at him with wild eyes. She could hear him, but she could also hear the Voice and Greyback and her parents. She had to block them out. She couldn't listen anymore. She was going crazy.

"Draco! I can't! It's getting louder! I can't block them out! I can't concentrate! Help me! Draco!"

She tore at her hair, shaking her head, anything, anything to get rid of the madness in her head. She was dying, listening to her parents die.

Draco seized her wrists again to prevent her from tearing at her hair and face.

"Hermione! It's not real! It's not real! It's all in your head! You're here, at school, with me! Hermione, focus on me! It isn't real!"

"Let me die!" she screamed. "I want to die!"

Draco's heart just about broke into two. He didn't know what else to do with her. It seemed like she really was going crazy this time, and if he didn't do anything to help her soon, she was going to die.

"Hermione! Listen to me! It's me, it's Draco! My father and Greyback can't hurt you here. You're at school, remember? Everything you're hearing, it isn't real! I swear to you it isn't!"

The sobbing continued. Whatever his bastard of a father did to her this time, he wasn't having any success breaking through to her.

He cast his mind around wildly, trying to think of something, anything, that would help her. She had to know that he was there for her.

You have to be her other half. Complete her soul.

He held fast to her wrists with one hand and brought the other to her face, cupping her cheek in his hand. He made her look at him, focus on his face.

"It isn't real. I promise you. I would never hurt you."

Her eyes were lost, hopeless looking once more. The tiny glimmer of hope he had once seen had all but disappeared.

"Hermione, I love you."

She gave an involuntary sort of gasp as her eyes locked onto his. She saw it there, in his eyes. He wasn't lying.

The voices in her head quieted a little. She no longer heard her parents.

"S-s-say it again," she quivered out, wanting to believe she hadn't heard it.

"I love you."

She gave him a water sort of smile. Her eyes were still hopeless and lost looking, and her smile almost broke his heart again, but it was a smile no less.

"Why do you care so much?" she whispered, laying her head on his chest again. "Why are you doing this?"

He ran his hand through her hair. "Because I can't stand to see you like this. It breaks my heart to watch you suffer."

"But you hated me! All along, before this year, you've always hated me!"

He gave an involuntary kind of smirk. "Well, when you go and change the way you did over the summer, what else was I supposed to think?"

She gave a whisper of a laugh. "But that couldn't have just been it. Unless you really are shallow and only like a girl for her body."

He sighed. "After my father did what he did, it made me realize just how worthless everything was anymore. I hated the fact that I was supposed to pride myself on being a pureblood. I hated the fact that I was supposed to follow in his footsteps. I wanted nothing to do with it anymore. And after I saw how hard it all affected you, I knew that I couldn't let myself fall into that lifestyle. I couldn't kill Dumbledore last year, so what made them all think that I could kill you as well? Not after I saw how you had changed, not after I saw how destroyed you were. And all because of my father? Nothing is worth all that. I decided that if I wasn't going to follow the evil path, I would at least do something to right all my wrongs. I wanted to make you feel a little bit better about yourself, and make you realize that I no longer wanted anything to do with my father's lifestyle. Don't you see? I need you as much as you need me. Because without you, we both wouldn't survive."

She sighed as well. "So, in other words, we were both sort of fated to be together all along?"

He nodded against the top of her head. "If that's the way you want to look at it."

She smirked. "And who would have thought that I would have ended up with one of my greatest enemies."

He grinned as well. "Ah, well, what's that saying? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?"

She nodded sleepily. "Something like that."

He kissed the top of her head. "Go to sleep. You've had a rough day."

She leaned her head up and kissed him lightly on the mouth. She needed that. Just a reassurance that he was there.

"Okay. But it would have been a hell of a lot less trouble if you would have just let me die in the first place."

He looked down at her, shocked, but she was already asleep against his chest, a sad smile on her lips.

He couldn't let her keep thinking that way. They needed each other to survive. If she died. . .he didn't like to think what he would go through.

They really were fated to be together.