Hermione awoke slowly, a feeling of warmth and calm and serenity flowing through her veins. She lay on her side, in the middle of the bed. She gradually opened her eyes and her mind lifted from the haze. She realized that she was not alone, but it didn't bother her. There was someone next to her, holding her gently, and it felt good.

Hermione rolled over and looked at her bedmate. She knew who it was before she even rolled over, and she wasn't scared. She wasn't nervous. In fact, she didn't think twice about it. It was natural for Draco to be lying next to her in bed, breathing deeply. His chiseled face was softened in sleep, and his blond hair was tousled. She wanted to reach out and run her hands through it. But, most of all, she wanted to just look at him while he couldn't look at her.

Laying on her side, she propped herself up on an elbow and stared at him. His thick lashes lifted and his gray eyes showed no sign of confusion. He knew exactly where he was, and he knew exactly how he got there. And, he didn't seem to mind.

"Good morning," said Draco, his voice raspy. He flung himself onto his back and stretched.

"Good morning," said Hermione, her eyes not shifting from him.

He turned his head to look at her, and he paused. "Are you okay? How do you feel?"

Hermione dropped her gaze. "I'm fine," she whispered. "Thank you for chasing Moorehouse away."

Draco's features hardened. "He'll never touch you again. If he does, he knows what awaits him." Draco stared at the ceiling, placing his hands behind his head. He didn't say anythingmore.

Hermione picked at the sheets on the bed, and asked, "Draco, what did you mean earlier? About having killed? Who have you killed?"

Draco didn't answer for a long time. For a while, Hermione thought he wasn't going to answer. But after several moments of silence, he said in a low voice, "I had to do it. It was in the aftermath of my parents' death. Someone... someone had entered the house. And, I had to do it." He sounded as if he were reciting the words. Hermione stayed quiet.

Draco continued, "Voldemort sent my father on a mission that he knew would be fatal, and then he overtook our mansion. He killed my mother in her own drawing room, and hunted me down. It was a game of cat and mouse before Ministry officials showed up and saved my life."

He closed his eyes, memories flooding back that he wished would go away forever. Keeping his eyes closed, he said, "I stayed there after my parents' death. It is my home. I own it now. It was passed down to me in my father's will. It was one of the few things that could never belong to the Death Eaters. My father made sure of that. He put a charm on the home, and Voldemort could not touch it.

"One night, about three days after the Dark Lord's invasion of my home, I heard a noise. I was in my room, and it was night. I thought I would go and investigate. I found him prowling around my home. When he saw me, he raised his wand and pointed it at my chest. I knew I would be done for if I didn't kill him first. And, so I did. I killed a man and I can never forget the look on his face when he realized that he was breathing his last breath."

"Who... who was it?" Hermione asked, hesitantly.

Draco turned and looked deeply into her eyes. "I thought you were smarter than that, Hermione. Don't you know yet?" Hermione didn't answer. "Hermione, it was Moorehouse's father."

A small gasp escaped from her lips.

Draco turned his head away from her, back up at the ceiling. "I killed my friend's father. And, I contacted Dumbledore immediately afterwards. I knew that he would be my only hope. Dumbledore came and fixed everything. I would return to Hogwarts; there would be no criminal charges. I was acting in my defense. Someone had broken into my own home, and I had acted instinctively. Dumbledore knew, of course, that Moorehouse had been a Death Eater, but he did what he needed to do so that I would be cleared."

A long silence ensued. Finally Hermione said tentatively, "It seems like you had a long summer."

Draco merely nodded and closed his eyes, trying to block out the demons that threatened to overocome him once again.