A/N: A thank you to; Jen0318, InsideTheFridge, marianna79, burungalam, Parrisblues24, Mary Norton, Aid4, I'm A Sucker For Love Stories (me too!), and finally, the Guest who commented on the last chapter. Thank you all so much!

Also, I'm sorry that this chapter is late! Thinks have been a little hectic lately (in a good way!). Thank you to everyone who has been following along with this fic, and you may also be happy that this chapter is longer than the few precious (yay!).

As always, enjoy!

Chapter 11

When Hermione woke, the sun was already high in the sky. She cracked her eyes open to find the curtains drawn, shielding the room away from the sun and its warmth. There may have been no sun, but she was warm. She was on her side, her arm was thrown over something warm, holding it to her tightly.

Hermione buried her nose into the warmth in her arms, feeling safer the closer she was.

She tried to remember what had happened the day before, the images of her parent, Harry, and Lucius Malfoy flooding her mind.

Draco.

Hermione shot up. He was dying.

She needed to find him.

Merlin, she was going to kill Harry.

Hermione shot up, her eyes wide in horror, scrambling to get off the bed. She was half way across the room when she heard a sob behind her.

Hermione's head snapped back to find Draco curl into himself, a pitiful sound coming from his chest.

Draco.

Hermione's shoulders sagged, her body suddenly tiered. Her feet moved of their own volition, dragging along the soft carpet of room.

The veela's breathing was uneven, growing more and more erratic.

The brunette crawled into the bed, back to the spot she had occupied moments before. She laid back down, staring at the back of the blond's head. Hermione wrapped her arm around Draco, and held him tightly.

"It's okay," Hermione whispered, "I'm here now."

Draco's breathing slowly became even.

Hermione held him tighter.

When Draco's breathing had become calm and even once again. Hermione sighed, listening her hold. She sat up but made sure to maintain some sort of contact.

Now she waited.

And waiting was boring.

Hermione glanced around to find a small pule of books on the nightstand hidden under a pile of her robes.

She reached over and pulled one off the top. A Hogwarts; a History. Perfect.

She opened to the first page, reading with a smile.

At one point, Draco turned in his sleep, his arm thrown over her legs, face buried into the side of her thigh.

Hermione found it funny that the perfect Slytherin prince snored. Granted, he snored softly, but he snored. The brunette racked her fingers though Draco's baby-soft hair, pausing to massage his scalp.

Draco sighed and moved closer.

Hermione went back to her book, and right when she was to begin the chapter on the divide between Slytherin and Gryffindor the bedroom door creaked open. Draco stiffened beside Hermione, his hold tightening around her legs.

" ?" Narcissa's soft voice rang, "How is he?"

Hermione put her book down and looked over to Narcissa, who had only just poked her head into the room. The older witch looked to have not slept for days. From what Hermione could see, her clothes were wrinkly and disheveled, her hair the same.

"Asleep," Hermione said, "calmer then I thought he would be."

"Do you think you can get him to eat?" Narcissa said, when Hermione nodded, she snapped her fingers and called for an elf. Narcissa gave an order of broth for Draco and a simple porridge for Hermione.

Hermione's eyes widened. Porridge was by far her favorite.

The two awkwardly looked at each other. Hermione was in bed with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy's son, his arms wrapped around her legs anchoring her to the spot.

What had her life become?

"Can I ask you something?" Narcissa said, moving to the bed, sitting on the edge.

Draco groaned, his chest rising and falling faster. Hermione laid her hand on his back and waited for him to calm.

"Of course," Hermione whispers.

"Why did you come?"

"I couldn't let him die— I— I couldn't do that to another person after everything."

Narcissa nodded. She looked Hermione in the eye, "Is that the only reason?"

Hermione flushed and looked away.

Narcissa chuckled.

"Then can I ask you something?" Hermione whispered.

"You saved my son," Narcissa replied, "you can ask anything you like."

Hermione took in a big breathe, "How did it get so bad? Why? I know I saw a glamor the last time I saw him but glamor's cant hide this."

It was Narcissa's turn to look away.

Hermione pushed on, "How?"

Narcissa sighed, "When you left that night, he took it as a rejection. Malfoy men have never taken rejection well— and he wouldn't just approach you— It had always been something we asked Draco to do, but that was the only time he accepted… I think he was expecting you to throw a drink in his face."

Hermione paled, "This is because I left?"

Narcissa shook her head, "It's been building for some time— surly you've felt it too— when Lucius was in Azkaban, I felt it to my bone. The pain, the longing— I dont know how else to explain it."

The older witch's eyes began to water, but she quickly blinked the tears away.

"Someone should have told me," Hermione muttered angrily.

"We thought Potter had told you, and that you had rejected my son." Narcissa muttered back, looking down at her hands.

Hermione shook her head, "Well I'm here now. I'll help him get stronger then we'll go from there."

Narcissa's head snapped up, "Will you mate with him?"

Hermione flushed again, "I think the question should be whether he will mate with me."

A laugh rose from Narcissa's throat, a smile on her lips, "Oh you young witch, if only you knew."

Before Hermione had a chance to respond, a little elf popped into the room holding two trays; one with a vegetable broth, the other with porridge.

The eld placed the trays on the bed and bowed before popping away. Narcissa stood and ran her hands down the silk of her skirts in an attempt to straighten them out.

"I'll leave you to it then," Narcissa said. She flicked her wrist and the drapes flew open letting sunlight flood the room. Narcissa moved to the door, but before she disappeared into the hallway, she turned back and gave Hermione an encouraging nod, "Thank you, ."

Hermione nodded wordlessly, dumbfounded.

Did Narcissa Malfoy really just thank her?

Oh Merlin, she was really going to kill Harry.

Maybe even Ron by association.

Hermione turned to Draco and gently slid his hand over the curves of his bones shoulders.

"Draco," Hermione whispered, shaking his shoulder, "open your eyes. We have some food for you."

Draco grumbled.

Hermione huffed.

"Draco," Hermione said a little louder, "wake up."

Draco stirred. He moved his head into Hermione's lap, cracked his eyes open, and looked up to Hermione, a lazy, lopsided smile growing on his face.

His eyes were sticking pools of mercery, eliminated by the soft glow from sun.

"Hi," Hermione breathed, amazed.

Clarity suddenly overcame Draco. His smile fell and his brows furrowed.

"I— I don't understand," Draco whispered. He struggled to sit up, his atrophied muscles not capable of holding him up.

Hermione helped Draco sit properly. "It's okay, Draco," Hermione said, "I'm here."

Draco shook his head. He pulled one of Hermione's 'lost' jumpers to him, using it as an anchor. "You left," he whispered, "you were here then you left." His voice cracked, on the last word, and Hermione's chest suddenly hurt.

Was this what she had been feeling? Was this what he has been feeling?

"I didn't know," Hermione said, "I swear."

Draco said nothing, his eyes hardening.

Hermione sighed, "Will you eat?" she asked, motioning to the broth by her.

Draco looked at the bowl but made no move towards it. Hermione sighed again. She rose to her knees and moved away. Draco's hand shot out and grabbed her arm, holding her firmly, but not painfully.

"Don't leave," he pleaded, "I— I'm—"

"—I'm not leaving," Hermione interrupted. She knew what he was going to say but she didn't want, nor need, to hear it. Hermione reached for the soup and a spoon and moved closer to Draco, "Eat, Draco. You must be hungry."

Draco looked at her, mouth slightly open. Hermione was so closed to him that she could feel small puffs of air hit her skin. She scooped up a spoonful and brought it to Draco's lips. He opened his mouth obediently. He hummed when he took a sip, his lip darting out to clean his lip.

And so slowly she fed him, and Hermione couldn't describe the joy she felt as the broth in the bowl shrank in volume.

When Draco was full, Hermione vanished the bowl.

"Should I feed you?" Draco asked.

Hermione would have made a snarky comment had she not seen the look in his eyes, the earnest want to do what she had done.

"I'm not hungry, Draco," Hermione said.

Draco nodded. "Can we sleep now?"

Hermione pulled the blankets back in leu of an answer. She slipped under the blanket next to the veela, he curled into her and sighed.

"Are you going to stay?" he whispered.

"I'll be here when you wake up," Hermione answered .

"This was a good dream," he muttered.

Hermione's heart sank. This was going to be harder than she thought.

She waited until he was asleep, then she slipped out of the room.

She didn't lie. She would be back.

Hermione tiptoed out of the room, shutting the door behind her. She turned and walked right into the solid chest of Blaise Zabini.

"Damn it, Zabini!" Hermione hissed, stepping back.

"Where are you going?" He asked, ignoring her statement.

Hermione looked up at him, fire blazing in her eyes.

"I need to find Harry and when I do he is going to regret the day he was born," Hermione hissed, her magic sparking around her, causing her hair to frizz.

Zabini just stood in the hallway, frozen. He watched her march out, speechless.

Once Hermione reached the front gates, she disapperated on the spot.

Harry was going to get it.