A/N: And the plot thickens...

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IV. Harsh Words

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Draco stared across the room at Hermione as she sat near Ron. It was the first day of March, Ron's birthday, and he was opening gifts from all his family and friends. He kissed Hermione after opening the present from her and Draco closed his eyes from the image.

The past two months had been torturous on him. Every night he had laid awake in his room—waiting for her to return and make good on her promise to him—but she had never come back. During the day she avoided him like the plague, always by Ron's side. Dying was something he could live with, but living with the curse of seeing her everyday with the Weasel was so much worse than death. Of course, it didn't help any that she was constantly going on 'top-secret' missions with the other two boys, leaving him without a sight of her for days. They had returned from their latest one just today—clearly excited. Of course, Draco didn't know what was so exciting; they wouldn't confide any of the Order's secrets in him.

Draco groaned when Hermione curled herself under Ron's arm—all his hopes that they would realise how wrong they were for each other were long gone. They both seemed to enjoy the other's presence and though it broke his heart, Draco was happy that she was happy. However, the pain covered and concealed any happiness he could have shown. He grunted softly, lifted himself from the arm chair and went up the stairs to his room.

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Hermione discreetly watched Draco as he left. Secretly following him with her eyes was something she had become quite skilled at lately. Too skilled, perhaps, she mused to herself. It seemed that Draco may have begun to believe that she didn't care. It wasn't that, though; she didn't want to cheat on her very loving boyfriend.

And Ron did love her. She had realised how wrong it had been to sleep with Draco, but not until afterwards. She didn't consider her rendezvous with the blonde a mistake—not at all. It was very incontinently timed, however. And now that Ron could give her everything that Draco could—

Who was she trying to fool? The two were incomparable! Ron was sweet and friendly, careful and courteous. He knew everything about her and respected her. When his qualities were listed, Ron seemed to be near perfect! But then why was Draco's description so much more appealing?

Draco was mean and distant, dangerous and rude. Draco knew absolutely nothing about her, yet, he wanted her. Why was such a person enticing to her in any way? She should be disgusted by his hormones that were causing him to watch her so closely. She had an idea that he had been watching her far longer than she had even been watching him, and she had been watching him for quite some time.

Hermione left with Ron, once the gifts were open, for a quick walk. He wanted to talk to her about something important. They left the house and garden and walked to the beach of the small lake outside the Burrow. Finding a large rock to sit on together, they relaxed under the shade of a tree, listening to the breeze. After a moment, Ron began to talk.

"I love you," he rushed out.

Hermione giggled. "I know—I love you, too." It hadn't been the first time they had said it; Hermione wondered why he seemed so nervous.

"And well, because I love you, I was wondering if you would like to…er…" he stumbled through his words and Hermione lightly touched his hand.

"Yes, Ron?"

Ron nodded his head quickly, egging himself to continue. "After this is all over," he said, looking into her eyes, "the war, I mean, will you—would you become my wife?"

Hermione had to stop herself from staring dumbfounded. "Marry you?" she asked.

Ron blushed. "Yeah."

Hermione sighed. "Ron, I'm only eighteen. And you're only seventeen—well, now you're eighteen. Do you really think we're ready for marriage?" she asked. Her tone wasn't regretting, only cautious.

"I'm old enough to know what I want, and that's you. Look, you don't have to answer me now," he explained. "We don't have to rush. I just thought it might give us something to look forward to during the next few months. Merlin knows we need incentive." He stood and offered her his hand.

Hermione smiled at him and gladly took his hand. As they walked back to the Burrow, she held herself close to him. He had matured quite a lot recently, but he was still her rowdy best friend. She wasn't sure if that would ever really change.

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Two weeks later Ginny and Harry were caught snogging in an empty room. Everyone tortured the couple mercilessly for keeping it a secret for so long. They had apparently been dating for three months already; realising they needed each other after a not-so-chaste kiss under the Christmas mistletoe. Hermione laughed along but tried to convince them that she had known all along.

Arthur Weasley was finally granted a two week long vacation—or rather, he had been forced to relax for a while by the Ministry; they didn't want a tired Minister at these times—so he was back at the Burrow making everyone happy. Even Bill, Charlie, and Percy were there. They had all returned home over the next month and a half to get ready for the upcoming war, each bringing their girls.

Bill had married Fleur the summer before, and with them they brought news of a baby-on-the-way. She was four months pregnant; her figure just beginning to show. Bill claimed he had never been happier, but his mom just smiled at him silently. She couldn't stop herself from remembering him before the werewolf's attack. His face was scarred—not horribly—but at the full moon he could grow quite temperamental. But if Fleur could still love him, then Molly knew she could love him more.

Charlie had returned from Romania with a surprise. A small four year old girl with long black hair was sitting on his hip with an arm around his neck. Hermione had answered the door when he had arrived, and after giving him a questioning look had ushered him inside to discuss his—companion.

"Her name is Kristah," he explained. "She's four and her mother was killed back in Romania. I took guardianship."

"Is she—yours?" Molly asked.

"No mother. Nikki was a very close friend of mine. I'd known her for only three years."

"How long are you keeping her?" Molly asked quietly.

"I'm going to raise her as my own" he said. Then he leaned down and whispered something to Kristah. She had nodded, walking to Molly and stared at her with big blue eyes. Suddenly she wrapped her arms around Molly's legs in a hug.

"Gramma!"

And thus began a wonderful relationship between the two. Molly began spending all her free time with her first granddaughter and Charlie laughed, calling her an old woman.

Percy had returned with his fiancée, Penelope Clearwater, by his side. Hermione hit it off really well with the former Head Girl. She asked her questions about the Head Dorms and what it would've been like had Hermione returned to school. Hermione listened as Penelope told her of her seventh year, but left the conversation when it turned to boys.

Ginny laughed. "So are you saying that because of the linked dorm rooms—that's why you hooked up with my brother?"

Penelope nodded. "It seems that every Head Boy and Girl date at some point. And it's probably due to the convenience. Now I knew Percy—we were already dating, actually—but the proximity definitely sealed the deal." She looked over at Hermione who wasn't paying much attention anymore. "It's a pity you didn't get to experience it," she sighed.

Ginny laughed. "Especially considering who Head Boy would've been!"

Hermione turned to look at Ginny in disgust. "I would never partake in any such actions with you brother while in school."

Ginny smirked. "I wasn't implying that Ron would've been Head Boy. He hasn't the grades for it."

"Then who?" Hermione asked, taken aback.

"Malfoy," Ginny said.

Hermione's eyes widened and she stood up from the table in a hurry. Ginny couldn't know about her one time with Draco, Hermione was sure. However, now was as good a time as any to throw her off the trail of her repressed emotions.

"I would never do anything with Draco Malfoy, of my own free will in or out of school," she said harshly. "That's just wrong of you to make such insinuations—especially when I'm happily in a relationship with your brother! Merlin Ginny, what provoked you to think of him—as Head Boy? Ha!"

Ginny looked past the brunette. "Actually, I was only mentioning that he was here," she said quietly.

Hermione spun around and saw Draco less than three feet away from her. She covered her mouth in horror as she realised he had heard her over-blown lie to Ginny.

"Malfoy—" she began.

"Granger. Nice to speak to you again. I thought you had forgotten about me."

"No, Malfoy, I just—"

"I'm not here to talk to you, however," he said, his voice and eyes cold and hard. "I'm simply playing owl again."

"What's your message?" Ginny asked.

"Report to the living room immediately." He gave a hard glare and soft shake of his head to Hermione before turning to leave.

The three girls quickly left—Hermione a little more dazed than the other two—and met the rest of the household in the living room. These meetings were usually confined to the members of the Order, but Draco was even there.

Mr Weasley cleared his throat. "There has been an attack at the Ministry," he announced. "I've just received word that this is it. This is the final battle and we need to get there as quickly as possible." Before they could move he directed Draco and Kristah to the stairs. "Malfoy, stay here with her," he ordered as they went to the room.

"But sir," Draco protested at playing babysitter. "I should go."

Arthur shook his head. "I'm afraid we can't let you go. Some of the others don't trust your loyalties as of yet, and so—"

"You mean Potter," he spat. "Of course he wouldn't understand me." He looked squarely at Arthur. "Fine, I'll stay for Kristah, but don't expect me to stay much after that. I appreciate your family's hospitality, but I hate feeling useless."

Arthur patted his shoulder. "I'm sorry about this," he sighed as he took Draco's wand and magically locked the door before turning around and leaving to join his family and friends, leaving Draco's wand on the table in the hall.

Draco groaned and buried his head into his pillow at the prospect of missing the final battle. He was pulled out of his wallowing by a small finger poking his shoulder persistently. He looked up and saw two watery-blue eyes staring at him. He sighed and tried to think of a way to keep the four year old occupied while in his room.

A/N: We hope you're enjoying this!

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