Disclaimer: Yes, I'm disclaiming any rights to this stuff, blah blah blah...

Hermione was currently caught up in the strangest situation of her life. She found herself crying against the chest of Draco Malfoy, her arms wrapped around his waist, his arms encircling her shoulders. She couldn't even fathom that he was allowing this to happen. Let alone that she was allowing this to happen.

But her emotions had taken over and she hadn't been able to stop the tears from coming. He had been so close to her, his voice filled with such anguish. The look in his eyes had been heartbreaking. Once her tears had started, she couldn't get them to stop.

She had expected Malfoy to push her away. To yell at her. To send her out the door. If he had, she would have yelled right back. She would have just slipped back into her role as his enemy and left the premises. It wouldn't have been so very difficult.

But he had surprised her. Shocked her, even, by sliding his harsh grip from her arms up to her shoulders and pulling her in close to his body.

It took her breath away.

He was so warm and solid. And then his arms… She could feel him hesitate for a moment before bringing them up around her shoulders.

She could hardly even comprehend what was happening. But it didn't matter, not in that moment. She felt light-headed, like a helium balloon drifting in the wind.

But now, minutes later, sense and reason were coming back to her. The tears were ebbing away. And it hit her quite suddenly, like a ton of bricks crushing her balloon…

This is Draco Malfoy. What am I DOING?

Just as that thought shook her into reality, she felt Malfoy's arms stiffen and drop away from her shoulders. She quickly reclaimed her own arms and took a step away from him.

The hug was over.

Then the two of them were standing facing each other, both feeling extremely awkward, neither knowing what to say or do.

Hermione noticed the dark area on his T-shirt where her tears had soaked in. It was such a strange sight. Her tears. On Malfoy's shirt. There because she had cried against him. Because he had let her. And he had comforted her.

These thoughts rendered her dumb and speechless for several tense moments in which Malfoy did little more than stare at her.

Then the link between her brain and her mouth righted itself and she managed to say, "Try to go to sleep. You'll need rest. I'll check on you later."

She didn't wait for him to form a response before she turned and walked quickly out the door.

Draco… What did you just do. What. Did you. Just. Do.

These were his thoughts as he watched her go. He stood there staring at the closed door for what felt like an hour.

His mind was twisting and turning with the strangeness of what had just happened. He had slipped up big time, worse than ever before. This shouldn't have happened. He should have told Granger to get out the second she started asking questions.

Should have. Should have. Should have.

The words meant nothing. There was no "should have". He hadn't, and that was that.

Suddenly he felt very angry. Angry at himself, yes, but mostly just angry at Granger.

Somehow that infuriating, know-it-all, Gryffindor female had gotten him to say and do things he never would have imagined saying or doing before. He cringed inwardly at the very thought of his actions.

He didn't use the word "muggle-born"! He didn't give hugs! HUGS, for God's sake. He didn't care if he made girls cry. Hell, making girls cry was an accomplishment.

So why, just why, had he called her a muggle-born instead of a mudblood? And why had he HUGGED her? And why, someone please tell him WHY, when he saw the tears streaming down her cheeks, had he felt like Snape's dagger had been plunged into his heart?

Draco tore his eyes away from the door and sat down weakly on the bed. He noticed his hands were shaking as he rubbed them angrily over his eyes, trying to get some feeling back into his brain. He must be going mad. What else could explain these changes in him? He was cooped up in a house full of Order members, a good bit of them Gryffindors, basically being held prisoner, hardly able to move because of the injuries inflicted upon him by a man he had looked up to for years…

Yes. He had every right to be going insane.

This place had driven him to insanity. And suddenly he knew that he had to get away. He had to leave this house that seemed to be changing him and run far, far away. But he would have to wait for the right moment. He was already on the heal. All he needed was more rest, and soon his health would return to normal. At that point, if these do-gooders didn't let him go, he'd just have to find a way to escape them. He didn't know where he would go or what he would do, he just knew that he needed to get as far away from these people as he could. Especially Granger.

He laid down on the bed, thinking about his impending escape. When he could walk more easily, perhaps as soon as he woke up, he would explore the house. All he had seen so far was this room, the bathroom, Granger's room, and the hallway. He would have to learn where the entrances and exits were, where everyone slept, exactly who lived here and who came and went. He also needed to figure out where they were keeping his wand.

Soon Draco's eyes grew heavy and his thoughts began to fade. The last sensation he had before unconsciousness, as he laid his hand on his chest, was the feeling of the cold, tear-soaked spot on his shirt.

Her tears, was the last thought that passed through his mind before he fell asleep.

After fleeing Malfoy's room, Hermione had gone straight to the bathroom to run cold water over her eyes. She didn't want anyone to know she had been crying.

All she could think about was the feeling of Malfoy's arms around her. The way he had just pulled her into him… Merlin, her stomach flipped over every time she thought of it.

She couldn't forget the feeling of comfort she'd had in those few moments with Malfoy.

Malfoy.

She shook her head at herself in the mirror. She was looking at a crazy person.

After a few more splashes of cold water on her face and some deep breathing, Hermione left the bathroom and made her way down to the kitchen (pointedly not looking at Malfoy's door as she went past) where she found Harry and Ron eating breakfast together.

Their conversation stopped and they both gave her a subdued "'Morning". Hermione observed the cautious expressions on their faces.

"What?" she said, sitting down at the head of the table. They glanced at each other and were silent for a moment.

"Well it was quite funny, Hermione," said Ron. Harry nodded his agreement.

She was puzzled for a moment. Then she remembered shouting at them for laughing at Malfoy. She had forgotten everything, apparently, after that hug.

"Oh," she said. "It's alright."

"How's the git now?" asked Ron, in his most spectacular attempt at concern for Draco Malfoy to date.

"He's…alright," said Hermione. There was a silence as Harry and Ron continued eating. "So…how long do you get to stay here, Ron?"

"Mum didn't say," he said, shrugging. "I suppose it doesn't really matter, if I'm here or at the Burrow."

"Probably a hell of a lot more interesting at the Burrow, though," said Harry.

Ron didn't respond.

"Hmm…well it's good to have you here," said Hermione. "What are you two going to do today?"

"There's nothing to do," said Harry with an edge of bitterness. "There's never anything to do in this house."

"We'll find something, mate," said Ron. "Chess, or maybe some more dueling. That was fun."

"I don't…" Harry sighed. "I don't want to play chess. And I don't need more dueling."

"Well…?" said Hermione.

"You know what I'm getting at," said Harry, laying his fork on the table and leaning in to speak more quietly to them. "I'm sick of this house and being stuck inside all the time. This isn't how it's supposed to be."

"What do you mean?" asked Ron.

"You know," said Harry. "You know how it's always been. We don't just sit back while things happen. I…I want to be out there. I want to be looking for him."

"Looking for him, Harry?" said Hermione. "Voldemort? He's not just…not just hiding in a dumpster somewhere. You're not just going to find him, and certainly not by yourself."

"Maybe I don't have to be by myself," said Harry.

"And who'll go with you?" asked Hermione. "The Order won't let you leave, you know that."

"Maybe the Order doesn't know what's best," said Harry.

"And you think you know better?" asked Hermione.

"Maybe," said Harry.

"No, Harry," said Hermione, placing her hand on his and looking him in the eye. "I know that look in your eye. You're plotting. Please don't do anything stupid."

"Sitting in this house and doing nothing is what's stupid, Hermione," said Harry.

"Harry," she pleaded. She turned to Ron. He was staring silently at them. "Ron, tell him to listen to me."

"What makes you think he'll listen to me?" asked Ron.

"Harry, what are you going to do?" asked Hermione as she felt tears burning her eyes.

Harry stared at her silently and was about to open his mouth when—

"Harry!" yelled Tonks from somewhere in the house.

Harry glanced at his two friends before standing up from his chair and walking to the stairs.

"Harry…" said Hermione weakly as he ascended the steps.

"Yes?" yelled Harry to Tonks, making his way out the upper door.

Hermione turned to Ron, who looked pale.

"What is he talking about?" asked Hermione. "Has he said anything to you?"

Ron shook his head slowly. "No…not until just now."

"What do you think this is all about?" asked Hermione.

"I don't know…" said Ron. His brow was knit in thought. "He's been acting strange since I got here."

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.

"Well…he jokes around and laughs like his normal self. I mean…you saw us dueling. But it's like…"

Ron trailed off into silent thought.

"Like what?" asked Hermione.

"Like he's…acting. Like he has to put an effort into every laugh. Then the rest of the time his face gets all serious and he has this weird look in his eye. Like he's thinking about something bad."

"Well…" said Hermione. "That isn't so unusual. I mean, he's got a million bad things to be thinking about lately. But…from what he just said, it sounds like he's…maybe got something planned."

"He bloody ran away the other night, Hermione. And he ran into Snape of all people and came back with the little bundle of joy upstairs. Who knows what he's going to do next? And don't tell him this," he said, dropping his voice lower and leaning in closer, "but that's the only reason Mum let me come here. She and Dad want me to keep Harry out of trouble."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh, Ron…this is bad. Your parents are worried that he'll do something?"

Ron nodded. "So are a lot of people. You wouldn't think so, being cooped up all alone here, but this house and Harry are all we ever hear about from the Order members. They stop by the Burrow all the time to see Dad and they always mention Harry. Every time."

They sat in silence a moment, both absorbed in their thoughts.

"I'll help you as much as I can, but I've got Malfoy to take care of" said Hermione. "You have to keep Harry occupied. You have to get it in his head that we need him here and he's not safe anywhere else. He—"

The sound of footsteps coming from the hall silenced her in mid-sentence. Harry came striding down the stairs a moment later and Ron and Hermione tried to make it look as though they hadn't just been talking about him.

"What was that about?" asked Ron.

Harry took his seat again. "Tonks wanted to talk to me."

"What about?" asked Hermione.

"Nothing important," said Harry. He looked back and forth between Ron and Hermione. "Look, you guys don't need to be worried about me. Don't go ringing the alarm bells or anything. I'm not going to do anything stupid."

"You promise?" said Hermione.

"Yes," said Harry. "I promise I will not do anything stupid."

"Malfoy," he heard her say quietly. He felt a small hand shake his shoulder as he pretended to still be asleep.

Granger was someone he did not want to see right now. His sleep had been full of nightmares involving hugs, and people, and hugging people, namely her, and he really didn't want to re-live any of that right now.

"Malfoy, I know you're awake," she said. "Open your eyes."

He did open them, immediately throwing a scowl at her and her tray of food.

"You have to eat," she said.

"I have to sleep," he replied, turning over onto his side away from her.

His eyes popped open wide at the realization that rolling over had caused only the slightest feeling of soreness in his abdomen. He sat up easily and looked at Granger.

"I can move," he said, running a hand over his side.

"Let me see the wound," said Granger, setting the tray down on the chair next to the bed.

Feeling curious himself, Draco lifted his shirt above the wound—or the place where the wound used to be.

"Incredible," said Granger quietly, staring intently at the thin, white, inch-long scar that had replaced the blackish-purple…thing…that had been there before. "Do you feel like you have more strength?"

"I don't know," said Draco, pulling back the covers and lowering his feet to the floor. He stood up slowly…

…and didn't fall over. His legs were still a bit shaky as he took a few steps around the room, but vastly improved nonetheless.

When he looked back at Granger he noticed that she was smiling. Which felt strange. The smile faded slowly from her mouth, though, as their eyes met. He couldn't ignore the strange feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when their eyes connected like that. He would have liked to think it was nausea from the sight of her, but…well, it simply was not.

She dropped her eyes first. Then she cleared her throat in the way Draco was getting so used to. He noticed she did it just about every time she was feeling uncomfortable.

"Are you ready to eat now?" she asked.

"I guess," he said. "But I'm not getting back in that bed."

She opened her mouth, probably to protest and to tell him he needed more rest, but then shrugged and pulled out her wand. She conjured up a small table in the center of the room. Then she moved the tray of food onto it and pulled the chair over.

"There," she said. She conjured up another chair and they both sat down.

As Draco started eating, Granger summoned a newspaper and began flipping through the pages. Minutes of silence passed by.

"What time is it?" asked Draco eventually.

"Around five," said Granger without looking up from the article she was reading.

"How long did I sleep?" he asked.

"A long time," she replied.

They went back to silence for some time, Draco eating, Granger reading.

"Some Fire Whisky would be quite welcome," said Draco.

Granger rolled her eyes up at him. "I hope that's a joke," she said.

"I take it you've never tried any," he said.

"Of course not," she said. "And I don't ever intend to."

"And a good thing, too," he said. "You couldn't handle it."

She scoffed. "As much as I would love to take the bait and enter into a drinking contest with you to prove myself, I don't think Harry even has any Fire Whisky."

"Of course not," said Draco. "Perfect Potter would never drink."

"Don't start," said Granger. She gestured to his tray of half-eaten food. "Are you done here?"

"Quite," he said, sitting back against his chair.

"I'll be back," she said, gathering up the tray and turning to leave. Draco watched her as she walked out the door.

He waited until he could no longer hear her footsteps on the stairs before walking out the door himself.

Hermione received a bit of a shock when she came back to an empty room. Her heartbeat accelerated far beyond healthy limits. She quickly realized, though, that she could hear the sound of water running in the bathroom.

She strode over and knocked on the door. "I told you to stay put, Malfoy," she said through the wood.

"No you didn't," he called.

Did I?

Hermione thought back for a second. "Okay," she said, "but it should have gone without saying."

She heard the water shut off. Two seconds later, Malfoy poked his dripping head out the door. "Even if it had gone with saying, I still wouldn't have listened to you," he said.

"Well—"

"Have my clothes been washed?" he asked before she could say anything.

She clenched her jaw in anger. She hated being interrupted, especially by Malfoy. "You are extremely rude," she said.

"I shall repeat myself, as you seem to be hard of hearing: have my clothes been washed?"

Hermione hadn't even opened her mouth to retort when she felt a whoosh of fur go past her legs.

Crookshanks.

In a reaction that was very quick, but not quick enough, Malfoy slammed the door shut in a futile attempt to keep Crookshanks from entering the bathroom. He was too slow for Lightning Fur, though.

Sounds of commotion and chaos immediately followed as Hermione pressed her ear to the door. First some purring…then some things being knocked over onto the floor and some stomping…then some hissing, and Malfoy yelling, "Fuck! Get away from me!"

"Malfoy, I'm coming in!" she called to him before turning the doorknob. He may have yelled, "NO!" right before she opened the door, but she couldn't even remember afterwards.

Malfoy was standing inside the shower, covering the lower portion of his otherwise naked body with the shower curtain that he had apparently just torn from its hooks in hasty preparation for Hermione's entrance. He was also apparently trying to fend off the fearsome Crookshanks with a bottle of lavender shampoo, which he was holding out in front of him like some sort of oddly-shaped, nice-smelling sword.

His face turned several shades of red as he stared at Hermione in shock (probably shock from the fact that she'd had the audacity to walk in on him while he was naked in the bathroom) and he seemed at a loss for words.

Hermione slapped a hand to her mouth just as she burst into laughter. She quickly stooped down to pick up Crookshanks (who was crouched like a lion in front of the shower, swishing his tail back and forth, apparently getting ready to pounce on Malfoy) and, with a final glance at Malfoy (a sight which sent a brand new wave of laughter rippling from her mouth), she hurried through the doorway.

She heard something thud hard against the door just as she closed it and was fairly sure it was a flying bottle of lavender shampoo. She looked down at the struggling Crookshanks in her arms and said to him through tears of laughter, "I can't figure out why you like Malfoy so much, but keep up the good work," before letting him down gently to the floor. He sauntered down the hallway in an agitated manner and disappeared down the stairs.

Hermione took deep breaths to try and stop laughing, but it was very difficult. The image of Malfoy dressed in a shower curtain, wielding a bottle of shampoo kept popping up. She sat down against the wall and clutched her sides, which were really starting to burn. But after a few minutes of concentrated effort, she had quelled her laughter down to an occasional giggle.

She heard Malfoy say through the door, "Shut it, Granger. Get me my clothes."

Suppressing a bout of renewed laughter that cropped up just at the sound of his voice, she couldn't resist saying, "I don't know, Malfoy…you looked awfully nice in that shower curtain."

The door opened about an inch, very swiftly, and Hermione could almost feel the blazing anger that was burning in Malfoy's eyes.

"If only I had a wand, Granger…" he said through the crack. His voice was furious.

Hermione realized it was time to stop messing with him. She stood up, pulled out her own wand, and summoned the clothes he had been wearing the night Harry brought him here. Dobby had washed and repaired them since.

She handed them through the door to him (narrowly avoiding getting her fingers slammed) and waited while he got dressed. And when the door opened again…

He was the Draco Malfoy.

Blond hair slicked back, severe black robes covering a crisp white shirt and black pants, his jaw set arrogantly, his stature proud and tall…and his signature glare aimed straight at Hermione.

She had a very strange feeling when she saw him standing there like that. All this time taking care of him so far, she had been dealing with a weak, wounded, and disheveled Draco Malfoy. It was easy to mess around with him and be mean to him when he was in that position. But she had nearly forgotten what it was like to be around him in his full form. He was…intimidating.

She suddenly felt very little.

Draco still felt like his insides were blazing with anger as he looked down at Granger. It felt very, very good to be able to stand over her again, and doubly so because he was back in his own clothes. He was still in some pain, especially after having to stand up in the shower so long, but it was nothing compared to before.

He couldn't understand Granger. One minute she almost seemed like she wanted to make peace (or at least a truce) between the two of them and the next, she was going out of her way to piss him off. He really didn't care what she did either way, but it would be great if she could make up her damn mind.

"If you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask," he said through clenched teeth. He would try to get her back at least partially for embarrassing him the way she had.

He felt great pleasure at the sight of her cheeks tinting pink.

"Don't be disgusting," she said, clenching her fists at her sides. "You should thank me. If I hadn't stepped in, the kitty cat might have mauled you to death."

He took a step towards her, and she quickly stepped back. "You think you're funny," he said. "I had the situation under control."

"Oh, please," she scoffed. "Crookshanks had you backed into a corner and your last defense was a bottle of shampoo."

His nostrils flared and he took another step towards her. When she backed up, she was against the wall. There was about two feet of space left between them. When Draco started to move forward again, she pulled out her wand.

"Don't," she said, pointing it at him. He halted.

"Don't what?" he asked.

"You're trying to intimidate me," she said.

"Not trying," he said. "I am intimidating you."

"No you're not," she defied.

He moved forward another half step and Granger pressed herself back against the wall.

"I will hex you," she said.

As he went to move forward again, she sucked in a breath of air and pulled her wand back and got as far as "Stup—" before Draco rushed forward the rest of the way and placed a swift hand over her mouth. He grabbed her wand hand and pressed it against the wall and then did the same with her other hand, which had just gotten about two good slaps in on his face.

"Let me go!" she ordered. But her voice wavered and Draco could see what he guessed to be a glint of fear in her eye.

He was so close to her, and for a second, all the images of their encounters over the past few days came flooding back to him. Twice he had come so close to kissing her. And just that morning he had embraced her in what had lasted much longer than one could call a normal hug.

He had to wonder how they could have gone from that tender little moment to this. But no matter what they were doing, there was always that…that something between them. Like a tug he couldn't resist, as if some invisible rope were pulling him towards her. It didn't matter if he wanted to comfort her or if he wanted to choke the life out of her. It was there and he couldn't get away from it. He just got sucked in.

Like right now. He hated her so much, but the urges he was feeling for her at that moment were ones you normally associated with a much different emotion. He felt drugged, looking into her eyes and being so close to her that he could feel the quick breaths rising and falling in her chest.

He felt her slowly stop struggling. Now they were looking back and forth between each other's eyes, each trying to gauge just what the other was feeling. His eyes kept being pulled to her lips, and the rebellious, unrestrained portion of his brain wondered what they would feel like under his. For a moment, he saw absolutely no way around it. He would have to kiss her. There was just no choice. Resistance was futile.

But then he suddenly became aware of the sound of footsteps in the hallway below. The clouds seemed to part over his brain and he blinked several times. He dropped Granger's hands and backed away from her, silently thanking whatever force had sent him the wake-up call.

He walked quickly down the hallway to his room and turned back one last time before shutting the door to find that Granger looked just as confused as he felt.

A/N: I'm so sorry, guys. I don't try to put them in these kinds of positions only to make them NOT kiss just to torture you. Really, I don't. I can't help it. It's like they have minds of their own and always end up back at this point. I can't control them. I apologize.

Anyway…I made a forum for this story called "The Slow Heal and its Loyal Band of Reviewers" but it disappeared for some reason. So if you want me to make another one, or if you want to take it upon yourselves to make a forum for this story, either tell me and I'll make one or you can just go right ahead and make your own. Just let me know so I can go and check it out. (Maybe you can add in a topic about how much you all hate me right now…)

But first, my dears, review. Please. It will make me so happy. What did you think of chapter 12?