Disclaimer: I'm running out of clever ways to say that I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER.

A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews and birthday wishes. To those of you who asked, I turned 20.

I blame any delay on this chapter and future chapters on the wonderful fic entitled 'Pansy's Volcano,' which I am now reading yet again. I've mentioned it before and it's seriously the best fic ever. Its by a very talented writer named bluemidget, and it really goes above and beyond the call of amazing. It could convert anyone to Leather Librarianism. (as we like to call it on the Harry Potter board at FanForum) If you haven't read it, get on that immediately. You won't be sorry. And although I have no doubt that many of you will lose interest in my story, as it truly pales in comparison to the masterpiece that is PV, it would simply be wrong and unfair of me not to point you all in the right direction.

The story isn't on FF, but you can find it on adultfanfiction or on Coloured Grey, I recommend the latter. It's a great site.

Once you've read it you'll hardly be able to blame me for making you wait on chapters. (That's secretly why I'm suggesting it...NOT) ;)

And without further ado, here's chapter 16. Enjoy!

Consider this part one of two chapters.

000

Draco stood breathless and painfully confused in that muggle alley for a long while. He felt like he couldn't tell up from down. His world had been turned inside out and nothing made sense. He couldn't for the life of him comprehend what in Merlin's name he'd done to make Hermione sob like he'd stabbed her in the heart.

That was how he felt. It was like she'd put a knife in his chest, wriggled it around a bit, pulled it out, and then stabbed him again for spite. It was absolute torture, being so close to her then having her pull away like he had some highly contagious disease. What had she meant when she'd said he was 'pretending?' She'd said it twice now and he still had no idea what the hell she was talking about. Did she think…? - He couldn't even begin to come up with a question.

He'd never felt so alone in his life.

Empty and raw, he apparated to the Granger residence. He had no desire to see or talk to Hermione. He wasn't sure he ever wanted to see her again. He didn't even know where she was. He walked up the stairs and past her bedroom door. He didn't even glance at her door as he made his way quickly to the guest bedroom. As far as he was concerned, she could cease to exist. Maybe then he could breathe again. As it was, just knowing she was in the world tormented him.

How was it possible that he could feel so much? And for Hermione Granger? He'd honestly thought he hated her until a few short days ago. How could a person go from despising someone so much it hurt so loving someone so much it hurt almost overnight? It struck him then that it wasn't possible. That logically meant that either he didn't love her now, or he'd never really hated her.

As he closed the guest room door behind him he pondered this. He thought it again. Either I don't love her or I never hated her.

But it wasn't even a question. As he stood there her face came to his mind and he knew he loved her. His heart wrenched at the thought of her smiling. Hs stomach flipped at the sound of her laugh in his mind. He felt a pang of dread course through his veins as he remembered her limp body bleeding to death in his arms. He loved her. It was inescapable.

That therefore meant that he'd never hated her. At least not to the degree he'd thought. He'd disliked her, even strongly disliked her, but that was true even now. Every haughty flip of her hair was met with mixed feelings of fondness and dislike inside Draco. Everything he found annoying about her was oddly endearing.

Maybe that's how it is when you love someone…

Draco thought of the first time he'd seen Hermione. It had been on the train in their first year at Hogwarts. He remembered clearly seeing a head of bushy hair in an ugly shade of mousy brown. And then the eleven-year-old Hermione Granger had turned around and opened her mouth to boss some unsuspecting classmate around. She had big eyes and large teeth and Draco had known instantly that he wouldn't like her.

And then she'd been sorted into Gryffindor and that had sealed the deal. He knew it was his prerogative, if not his duty to dislike anyone in Gryffindor on principle. But then the year went on and Hermione Granger had proved to be just as annoying as her first impression had suggested. It seemed to be her mission in life to prove that she knew everything. Draco remembered wondering if she knew that she was only alienating people by being a know-it-all.

But then she'd done something that was unforgivable. She became friends with Harry Potter. Better than friends. Draco didn't know how it had happened, but suddenly Hermione, Harry, and Ron Weasley had become utterly inseparable. At the time he had passed off his consternation at this fact by telling himself that his annoyance only stemmed from knowing that Potter and Weasley would now get a free ride through school, depending on Hermione for academic help. That had been unbearable, knowing that Potter's load would be lighter.

But now he wondered if he'd been annoyed for other reasons.

No, it was much to soon then, Draco reasoned to himself as he sat on the neatly made bed of the seventeen-year-old Hermione's guest room. It must have happened after that. When had it happened?

Draco thought of the next year, and the year after. He'd watched from afar as Hermione's bond with Weasley and Potter had strengthened. It had of course bothered him, but that was only because everything about the Trio bothered him, or so he'd thought.

Still, he didn't know when it had happened. It didn't really matter thought. At some point along the way, she must have laughed, or smiled, or done something that made Draco see her. Or maybe she hadn't. It truly didn't matter. He loved her now and there was no way around it. What purpose did digging up the past serve? None. It only reminded him of how trapped he was now.

His life was out of his control now and he didn't know if things could get any worse. But then they did. Draco opened his eyes to a tapping on his window. He looked up in surprise and saw a plain grey own waiting outside, trying to get his attention. This was odd, to say the least. Curiosity got the better of Draco as he crossed to the window the let the owl in. Who would be contacting him? Who even knew he was here?

The moment the window was open the grey owl fluttered in and landed lightly on Draco's dresser. Draco noticed an envelope tied its leg and reached out to take it. As soon as he'd untied it the owl fluttered out the window and was gone. Draco watched it for a moment and then looked back at the letter. An inexplicable sense of dread washed over him as he looked at it.

It was addressed simply.

Mr. Draco Malfoy
Guest in the Granger Household

Hertfordshire

Draco turned the envelope over to find the simple seal of the Ministry of Magic.

What the hell?

The unsettled feeling in the pit of Draco's stomach grew as he stared at the envelope. When he couldn't stand it any longer, he gingerly broke the seal and pulled out the short letter inside. He unfolded it and read it quickly.

The contents washed over him like a tidal wave made of cold acid. The most powerful emotion of pain and anger he'd ever experienced filled him as he let the letter fall to the floor. He wanted to die. He wanted to escape. But there was nowhere to go. So he did the only thing he could. He pulled out his wand and cast a silencing spell on the room.

And then he screamed. He shouted so loud and long and hard that his voice broke itself. So then he cried. He sobbed and broke ever object in the room. He put his fist through a wall and broke several fingers in the process. But he didn't feel the pain. It was nothing compared to the anguish inside him that was an amalgam of his love for Hermione and the news contained in the letter on the floor.

And when he couldn't cry anymore, and he hadn't the strength to throw, smash, or punch anything, he fell. He hit the ground so hard he blacked out and didn't move until hours later when he woke up and found himself bloody and sprawled out on the floor. His head was pounding as he pulled himself up onto the bed, and then he lost consciousness again.

When he woke up for the second time God knows how much later, every muscle and bone in his body ached. The fingers on his right hand were so swollen he couldn't move them and several tiny pieces of the ceramic lamp he'd broken were embedded lightly in the skin on his arm. He could feel his neck bleeding but he didn't know how that had happened.

The first thing he did once he'd managed to sit up was search for his wand. He spotted it on the floor under the window and got up gingerly, trying not to put more strain on his aching parts than was necessary, and limped across the room to pick it up. His whole body was spent. Not just his muscles but his insides too. He had nothing left, he was completely hollow. Even breathing was an effort.

Still, he had enough sense to know that if the Grangers found their guest room in such a state, he would probably have a lot of explaining to do, and that was the last thing he wanted. No, he wouldn't say anything about it. He would put the room right and let that be it. No one ever had to know. Speaking it out loud would make it real, it he wasn't going to allow it to be real. He refused point-blank to even look at the letter on the floor. He bent painfully to pick up his wand and found that he literally couldn't grasp it with his broken fingers.

His left hand worked fine however, though he wasn't very coordinated with it - At least not as much as he was with his right. He grasped the wand awkwardly and went back to the bed. Sitting down carefully, he surveyed the damage, which was considerable.

The room was a wreck. The shards of glass from the broken mirror were scattered dangerously on the floor. There were dents in the walls caused by the impact of other objects. Most of those objects were broken and strewn about the room. He had completely overturned the table by the window and one of the legs was broken off.

Draco fully appreciated how screwed he would have been if he'd had no wand to repair the damage for him. But he did have a wand, as nearly impossible as it was to use it. He found that in order to hold it he had to use both hands. He did the best he could to close his injured fingers over the handle, but when he wasn't able, he used his left hand to press it against his palm. In that fashion he slowly repaired the room. When he cast the spell for the mirror to repair itself he felt a few pieces of glass remove themselves from his body and he cried out in pain.

When the room looked the way it should he leaned back lightly against the headrest and closed his eyes. His breathing was shallow. Everything hurt. The room may have been repaired but the boy who had caused the damage was far from whole.

-

Hermione woke up in her bed with a pounding headache. Her head always hurt after she cried. She sighed deeply and stared blankly at her wall. She vaguely remembered hearing Draco walk past her door hours before but she'd been so out of it at the time that she'd just closed her eyes and lost consciousness again. She was so tired. The day's events had worn her out completely and it was only 5 PM. A little after, actually.

5 PM…that meant her parents would be home any min-

Right on cue a quiet knock came on her door and Hermione sat up, straightening her clothes and wiping off the mascara she knew was smeared under her eyes.

"Just a minute." She called. Hermione's parents were nothing if not punctual. She knew they'd want to know exactly what Hermione and Draco had gotten done today. Hermione felt a pang in her stomach as she realized that they'd succeeded in nothing but charging a lot of money on her father's credit card and causing a scene in Hermione's favorite restaurant. What was she going to tell her parents? She couldn't very well tell them that they'd called it a day after nearly destroying themselves in an alley.

When Hermione was sure she looked presentable she walked to the door and opened it, a smile masking her unhappiness.

"Hi mum." She said as pleasantly as she could.

"Hello love." Her mother said, kissing her on the cheek. "Are you alright?" There was concern in Jane's voice.

"Yes, I'm just tired. I took a nap and I just woke up." Hermione answered, stretching her arms for effect.

"Oh. Well your father and I would like to know about your day." Her mother said with a smile. "Would you come down to the kitchen and tell us about it?"

"Sure." Hermione said, knowing she couldn't refuse. "I'll be down in a bit."

"Alright." Jane said. "Draco too. Is he in his room?"

Hermione nodded. "I think he's asleep." Hermione had no idea if this was true but it was the only thing she could think to say.

"Okay. Well why don't you wake him and the two of you can come down together. We'll be in the kitchen."

Hermione nodded again and her mother walked away, leaving her to contemplate just how much she didn't want to walk down the hall to Draco's room.

But there was no way around it. She gathered herself and walked to his door.

She wasn't sure what name she should call him by so she didn't use his name. "My parents want to talk to us in the kitchen." She said in a voice loud enough for him to hear it through the door, but no louder. And then she walked away as quickly as she could.
Shortly after, she joined her parents in the kitchen and informed them that "He" was on his way down.

-

Draco was staring blankly at the ceiling when he heard her voice. The Grangers wanted to talk to them; no doubt to find out what they'd accomplished that day. Draco wished he could ignore it all, but he knew he couldn't. So he scooted himself out of bed and stood as straight as he could considering the injuries to his body. He caught his reflection in the mirror and knew he couldn't walk down to the kitchen looking like this. But he didn't have the time or ability to fix or hide his wounds. So he grabbed a long black cloak from a drawer and draped it over himself.

It looked awkward, but at least it hid his body. Every step was painful but over the years he'd become very good at hiding pain. So when he walked into the kitchen minutes later, the only thing blatantly off about him was how slowly he was moving. He knew they assumed he'd been sleeping, so this was a usable excuse.

He didn't look any of them in the eye, especially not Hermione as he entered the room and leaned again the wall – sitting down would be more than his body could manage and still keep up pretences.

But the Grangers didn't question him. If they thought his appearance or behavior strange, they didn't show it.

"So," John said, pouring himself a glass of wine – Draco wouldn't have minded having a little, or the entire bottle, himself – "How did it go today?" Draco had no intention of saying a single word unless he was asked a direct question, so he continued to stare at the floor and hoped Hermione would say something. She did.

"We didn't get a whole lot done today," she said uncomfortably. "We got him some new clothes and then we…just…we were really tired so we came home to rest."

It was a lame excuse but Draco couldn't have come up with a better one. He could feel the elder Grangers' eyes questioning him but he didn't acknowledge them.

"I see…" said John uncertainly. "So you didn't go to any of the gun experts?"

"Not yet." Hermione answered. Draco noted that she sounded very collected. She was either a very good liar or she'd gotten over the earlier events remarkably quickly… "We will," she said. "Tomorrow."

Her parents didn't say anything. They seemed to be hoping one of the teenagers would explain what the hell was going on. When neither of them spoke and the silence persisted, John seemed to think another glass of wine was in order. Draco couldn't blame him.

"Well," John finally said, "No such thing as a wasted day." The man obviously knew there was something going on but he knew better than to push the issue.

Just then the doorbell rang and Hermione jumped out of her seat like she'd been sitting on springs. "I'll get it," she said quickly, leaving the room in a hurry.

Once she was gone Draco finally looked up. He met John's eyes and found them full of questions. But Draco couldn't answer them so he looked away again.

"What's going on here, Draco?" Jane said in a mixture of concern and sternness.

Draco knew he couldn't dodge the question. "We…- even to himself his voice sounded damaged – we…had a row."

His throat felt like sandpaper as he spoke. He left his answer at that. The Grangers waited from him to elaborate and when he didn't they spoke again.

"And, are you alright?" John asked. Draco knew that Hermione's father was honestly worried that they had physically beaten each other. The man obviously knew it wasn't outside the realm of possibilities.

Draco nodded. "She's fine."

"I wasn't asking about her," John said. "You look like you're about to collapse. Did she…attack you?"

Draco actually snorted at this, which then caused him to start coughing in pain. He shook his head between coughs.

"Draco!" exclaimed Jane. "You're hurt." The overly kind woman crossed to Draco and reached out to help him but he stiffened and she stopped.

"I'm fine," he said. And he left it at that. He hadn't asked for help. He didn't need help. He didn't want help. But he knew he'd been short with her and he didn't want to give her more cause to doubt him. "Thank you anyway, Mrs. Granger," he said, giving her a small smile.

And before she could push it further, Hermione re-entered the room looking a little flustered, another two people in tow.

"Mary, Rob!" Jane said with a happy smile to the boy and girl behind Hermione. "You're early!"

000

A/N: Well. I had intended this chapter to include the next one, but it would just be too damn long. So know that the next chapter is the one I've had in my head from the beginning, and it shall feature one of my favorite things in the whole world. Drunk Draco. grins maniacally

So in the meanwhile, please review like the lovely readers I know you all are! 

PS – My boss gave me five days of vacation for my birthday and then made up for it by smacking me with like, two weeks straight of double shifts.  So I will try oh so hard to finish at least the next two chapters before I have to hit it again on Thursday.

Amanda