A/N: Chapter Twenty-Nine!

The next few days were a blur.

I remember shopping with Daphne and Blaise, and convincing myself that time on the mountain would be a good idea. I needed distractions. I needed something fool proof, and there was nothing quite like falling on ones arse — repeatedly — amid an abundance of experienced skiers and snowboarders. Thinking back on it, going on the lower slopes would probably have been a better idea — but I wasn't in the right frame of mind to be deciding such things.

I traveled to the highest point with Harry, Ginny, and Ron, and watched as all four of them soared down the mountain with natural ease. I, on the other hand, tumbled my way down, stopped only through magic, once I realized I was five bumps away from slamming face first into the largest tree on the mountain.

From there, one of the patrol staff found me on his snowmobile, clad in orange top to bottom with black goggles to protect from the sun. It was surprisingly refreshing being around Muggles, as the last time I'd visited my parents was months ago. Part of me missed the simplicity that came with a magic-free existence. But the moment I started to feel nostalgic, I remembered all the ways magic had helped me, and all the friendships I had formed through Hogwarts and the Ministry.

If I hadn't received that acceptance letter from the late Albus Dumbledore, I would never made friends with these people; the only people to ever have accepted me for me.

That in mind, I secured myself behind the Matt the Patrol Dude and raced with him down the slope, passing by my friends along the way.

"You sure you don't need to see medical?" he asked me, offering his hand to help me from the snowmobile, as we arrived at the bottom.

It was difficult refusing Matty Blue Eyes, but I had no choice. I was quite sure he, along with the medical staff, wouldn't understand me if I told them I used magic to break my fall. That, and I would've had my Auror License suspended for breaching the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy.

"I'll be fine, but thank you for the lift."

To this, he studied me an extra couple seconds, unconvinced but unwilling to press me further. "Can I at least walk you back to your cabin? It does't feel right leaving you to carry on alone, after that fall."

I raised my eyebrows, surprised but not entirely turned off. "You know what? Sure. Some company would actually be nice."

It was around that time that he took off his knitted cap (or toque as the Canadians called them) and revealed to me a younger face than the one I had imagined. He looked about eighteen, and reminded me of a young, blonde version of Charlie. It was on rare occasion that I saw the older Weasley but when I did, I ogled him hard. Matty Blue Eyes was no different.

"So…" he started, as we fell into step together. "You're here on vacation?"

I nodded, taking off my ski gloves and tucking them in my pocket. "For someone's birthday."

"Boyfriend?"

"No," I smiled, knowing this approach all too well. "He's an ex-boyfriend."

"Oh, that must be awkward."

I tilted my head a little. "Not as awkward as you'd think. It doesn't hurt that we're here with a group of our closest friends."

"Ah." Matty Blue Eyes nodded along, as though he had been through something similar — hard to believe from someone who had mostly likely lost his virginity the night before. "Well, if you're looking for a cool place to hang out, there's this spot in the Upper Village that plays great music."

I faced him, still walking. "Yeah?"

"It's my favourite place in the entire village," he explained, enthused like a child on Christmas morning. "Maybe, if you don't have anything else planned, you and your friends could swing by tonight. There's an open mic, and my band is playing."

"Uh oh…"

Matt smiled at me, catching on. "Do I sense an embarrassing story?"

"Not at all," I lied, feeling lighthearted. "But I may take you up on that offer."

"Awesome," he voiced, smiling deeper as we approached the cabin. "Is this you?"

I nodded, reluctant to end the conversation, though prepared for the warm bath that awaited me behind those doors. "Thanks for walking me back. See you tonight?"

"I'll be the guy embarrassing himself on stage," he grinned. "Nice meeting you."

"Nice meeting you, too."

With that, I turned to the door and fumbled with the keys, watching as Matty Blue Eyes' shadow grew smaller and smaller, as he walked back to the main village. In that last moment, the correct key fit through the hole and I unlocked the door, one, maybe two seconds away from stepping inside.

"Wait! Hold on a minute," he called out, jogging towards me, breathing heavily as he reached the door. "I…I didn't catch your name…"

Later That Night

It was interesting sharing a room with Astoria the past couple days — and despite the fact that we stayed out of one another's paths, for the most part, there were still those awkward run-ins whilst we dressed for group outings. That night, I managed to convince Daphne we should hit up the bar Matty Blue Eyes told me about. She was reluctant to give up her thorough, heavily detailed schedule, but the promise of an open mic left her giddy with excitement.

Resigned to whatever would happen that night, I slipped into an appropriate dress, midnight blue with a leather jacket, and noticed Astoria eyeing me from across the room — an obvious snicker tugging at the ends of her lips. It was no matter to me, seeing as I wouldn't have to deal with her once we arrived.

I proceeded downstairs and within minutes, our group left the enormous cabin and we made our way to the Upper Village. It was a pleasant night, chilly but bearable, with couples linking arms and singles searching for company. I, on the other hand, remained alone, as I wished, and led the group past the shops and into the bar Matt had specified earlier in the day.

It was nice and warm inside, and reminded me of the Gryffindor Common Room — with loads of red and orange — only dimmer and with more of an adult appeal. I watched as Ron and the other men proceeded ahead to order us a round of drinks, and wheeled a look around until my eyes landed squarely on Matt. He was on the stage, preparing his microphone and chatting with some locals about a new band or something.

Around three seconds later, he found me and waved, motioning for me to meet him up there. I broke into a nervous laugh and shook my head, convinced once he gave me a pout that would even have swayed someone as hard as Minerva McGonagall. With that, I made my way to the stage and took hold of his hand as he held it out for me, pulling me up.

"I didn't think you would come," he confessed. " — but I'm glad you're here. My band is about to start."

"Your band?" I repeated, tossing a look at the other blokes around him. The lot of them were dressed in black and white with purposefully messy hair and fitted jeans that hugged them in all the right places.

Matt smiled. "Grab your friends and sit in the front. I have a surprise for you."

"Wait, you're not going to —"

"I won't call you up," he interjected, still smiling. "We'll save that performance for later on in the night, once we get a few Molsons in you."

"I'll pretend like I know what that means…"

He laughed. "God, you remind me so much of this girl I used to know."

"Ex?"

"How'd you guess?"

"I've heard the line before."

He laughed some more, blushing now. "It's true though! Don't worry, she was cool — you know, before she went nuts and keyed my car."

"Oh dear…" I remarked, suppressing the giggles. "She sounds downright lovely."

"Well, I don't know about that, but I do know the longer I talk, the more of an idiot I make myself sound like," he voiced, sounding a little nervous. "I have this weird condition called foot in mouth syndrome. Do you know about it?"

I nodded with my eyes closed, recalling the sheer number of times I wished I could have lodged a foot in my mouth. "All too well."

"We'll swap stories once my set is over," he winked, exchanging a quick look with his bandmates to see if they were ready. "All right, we're about to start. Thanks for coming, really."

"No problem," I winked back, smiling as I proceeded off the stage and towards the designated seating area, where both Daphne and Ginny eyed me, as if to demand a lengthy explanation regarding this young man and how I knew him.

But there was no time to explain, as the show was about to start.

Matt, as it turned out, supported his band with rhythm guitar and lead vocals. If I were a teenager, I would probably have jumped his bones from the mere sight of him on stage with the mic between his hands like that, but as an older woman, I sat where I was, settling for a small wave as he looked in my direction.

"I'd like to dedicate this first song to a new friend of mine in the audience…" he said, inspiring envious looks from a group of college girls not too far from us. "Please, everyone, put your hands together and give it up for Harmony!" With that, he gestured to me, prompting an enormous round of applause and even some wolf whistlers.

Ginny leaned closer to me. "Harmony?" she mouthed.

I shrugged, holding back the laughter that tickled my throat.

If I had to describe Matt's band, I'd say they were a blend between Kings of Leon and The Black Keys. For someone so young, he sure had a mature sound; both vocally and lyrically.

One Hour Later

"And here I thought I was the only blonde in your life."

I turned, having nursed the same glass of whiskey for almost an hour, and noticed Draco as he slipped into the stool beside mine. He arrived earlier in that same day, leaving me no time to talk to him — not that I was keen on doing so.

More than anything, I held an enormous amount of anger towards him, anger that seemed to fade little by little as I noticed the look he was giving me.

"Shouldn't you congratulate your friend on his successful set?" he asked, gesturing to Matt from across the bar.

I smiled into my glass, knocking back more liquid courage, before observing the sight in front of us. "Astoria is congratulating him for the both of us."

Draco tossed me a knowing look. "Now I know that's not why you're upset."

"Upset?" I repeated. "I'm not upset. I may be a little drunk, but not upset."

"Please. You've been nursing that same drink for an hour. Even a lightweight like you couldn't get drunk from that."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Your point?"

"Something is clearly bothering you," he voiced. " — and I know we haven't been on the best of terms since Christmas, but I want you to know that I do care about you and I want to see you smile a little."

"You want to see me smile?" I asked, sounding a little more aggravated than I had intended, whilst setting down my drink, finally having finished the damned thing. "Then be the good person you think you are, and tell me what's wrong with him."

Draco eyed me, neither surprised nor angry. It was more resolute; a look that told me he had expected this conversation sooner or later. He may have been a right old prick since arriving at Ginny and Harry's with Katherine on his arms, but at least he knew better than to patronize me.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, knocking back his own drink.

I looked straight ahead, aware that our friends were somewhere near, and amongst them was the man whose words had been ingrained within me since I heard them in that pensieve. "Is it life threatening?"

"Maybe you should talk to —"

"Is it life threatening?" I asked again, facing him.

Draco swallowed hard, immersed in thought, in what he could possibly tell me to satiate the nerves that had been building in my chest for the past forty-eight hours. "I — I'm not sure about the details or what it's called, technically, but I do know it's common amongst pureblood males and that his father battled with it for years." It was around then, that he paused, forcing his eyes shut. "From what I remember, it's a degenerative disease, one that leaves the victim weak and without magic…and in some cases, it can lead to death."

I breathed in, attempting to block those last words from entering the sandstorm that engulfed my thoughts — but the more I tried, the harder it became. I sat there, with him, with the one man I promised myself I would never trust again, knowing, deep down, he was the only one who would tell me the truth.

"How could I not have known?" were the first words to come my mouth, as I sunk down, into the stool, hiding my face as fresh tears streamed from my eyes down to my chin, seeping into the fabric of my dress. "In — In the dungeons he was — he told me he was using medical marijuana but — but I thought he was — I thought he was joking. I should have known right then. I should have known to ask. How could I not have known? How — How could I?"

Draco scooted closer to me and placed his hand between my shoulder blades, rubbing me there as I tilted my head down. "You didn't know, because he didn't want you to know," the young man told me; neither comforting nor kind, just real. "— and he didn't want you to know because he thought he was protecting you."

"But why would he want to protect me?" I choked out. "I'm not the one who's ill."

"Because he's in love with you," Draco answered, without a moment of hesitation. " — and he knows you're in love with him, too."

I exhaled, feeling hot tears pool around my eyes as I listened to those words echo over and over and over again. Suddenly the music and the ambiance faded into the background, and all I could hear was the sound of my own heart — pumping hard and without control as the world began to close in on me.

Everything slowed.

"Hermione," Draco's voice broke through. "Are you okay?"

I turned to him, with one hand grazing the flesh of my neck and clavicle. "It — It's not here. I — I was wearing it earlier today. I — I must have —"

"Wait, slow down. What are you talking about?" he asked, keeping eye level with me. "Breathe, Granger."

"The necklace," I managed to say, feeling my temperature rise as panic settled into my bloodstream. I wheeled several looks around the bar, over the table tops and the floors, searching for the snowflake pendent, for anything that resembled it. "I — I must have dropped it somewhere in the cabin. I need to go back and search. I — I have to…"

Draco swallowed, concern laced into his otherwise cool, calm eyes. "Hold on. I'll — I'll go with you."

"No —" I fired back. "I need to do this alone."

"Granger —"

Twenty Minutes Later

I rummaged through the contents of my trunk, having convinced Draco that I was capable of making it back to the cabin in one piece. It was empty save for me and a couple of the Brazilian guests. It appeared the rest of the group planned on staying out late that night, which didn't bother me in the slightest. I needed all the time I could get, in order to the find that damned necklace. If that meant turning the cabin inside out, then so be it. I was prepared to do anything.

All I needed, all I wanted, was a trace of silver, an indication that I hadn't lost the one tangible thing that bound me to him.

"Looking for this?" someone voiced.

I felt my cheeks grow hot, and I turned to the door, finding Astoria there with what looked like my necklace dangling from her index finger.

Had this been any other moment of any other night, I might have tackled her to the floor — but there was no part of me that had the patience to deal with her attitude. I moved to the door with my hand outstretched. "Give that back."

"Relax," she scoffed. "I don't want anything to do with it. I found it before we left for the bar, and figured something as hideous as this could only belong to one person."

I swallowed down the frustration and watched the necklace fall to the floor with a soft clink, as she dropped it between us, forcing me to kneel down.

"Take your stupid necklace," she furthered, observing with disdain. "In fact, here's a bright idea. Maybe you should take —"

"You know," I interjected, keeping a cool, calm, collected tone as I pushed up from the floor with the necklace in the palm of my hand. "It must take an exceptionally miserable person to be this much of a bitch, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week."

She gaped at me. "I know you didn't just call me a bitch."

"Pretty sure I did."

"Listen, Hermione," she started to say, moving closer so that we were nose to nose. "You're lucky I didn't throw that stupid necklace into the rubbish the moment I found it. Why are you so obsessed with it anyway? You don't even wear jewelry."

"It was a gift," I voiced, pushing back the emotion that clouded my lower lash-line.

Astoria eyed me, noticing the change in my demeanour. It was the perfect chance for her to stick it to me, to end this feud once and for all and come out on top. "I'm going to say this once," she told me, seething with anger and then simmering down to a slow burn. "Nothing happened between me and your boyfriend, if that's why you're crying like a child."

"Matt isn't my —"

"I'm not talking about Matt," she interjected, as though the mere suggestion were ludicrous. "I'm talking about your precious Theo. Nothing happened between us."

"What do you mean?"

"During that stupid game of truth or dare, nothing happened," she furthered. "I — I took him into that room, getting nothing but half a peck, though it wasn't for lack of effort on my part. I tried, but his mind was on something else, as usual."

"But…"

"We messed our hair and clothes up before leaving, to make it seem like something happened. It was my idea…since, you know, I have a reputation to keep."

I blinked, taken aback by the things she was telling me, but more so the reason. In the back of my mind, I had suspected something like that had happened. It was unlike Nott to hook up with someone he despised, and after living with him for two years, I knew he was more than a little bitter towards Astoria. The fact that he'd gone into that room with her at all was shocking enough.

"Just thought I'd let you know," she mumbled, sounding and looking disinterested, as she scanned her nails, proceeding to her side of the room.

I followed her with one look, standing where I was. "I appreciate the honesty."

Astoria rolled her eyes, sighing with condescension. "If this is the part where we join hands and break into song and dance, count me out," she vocalized, pausing to look at me as I hovered near the doorway. " — just do yourself and everyone else a favour, and find him before —" There was a break in her voice " — erm —"

"Before it's too late," I finished, glancing back at her in time to notice the look that crossed her facial features.

She remained silent for the next few seconds, gathering her thoughts. "I wasn't sure you knew about his…condition."

"I do, but not because he told me."

"I'll take the blame for that," Astoria then said, speaking in a tone that was neither arrogant nor condescending. "Back when — Back when we were together, I noticed he started getting these…nosebleeds," she said, brushing a couple fingers over the area above her lips. "It scared me that he was sick. I was young and stupid and not at all prepared to deal with a…with a dying boyfriend…so I waited a couple weeks until his symptoms started to fade, before making up some rubbish excuse about wanting to be with Marcus Flint. It was a horrible thing to do, even for me, but I wasn't strong enough to be there for him."

Silence swept the room, as I listened.

"Consider yourself lucky," she added, sniffing a little, though doing her absolute best to hide it. "I messed up, but that doesn't mean you have to."

I breathed in, levelling the feelings that reverberated within my chest. "Do you — Do you know where I can find him?"

"If I know Theodore Nott, he's probably outside somewhere, looking at the stars or something. He's corny like that."

For some reason, that made me smile. "Thank you, Astoria. I…I'm sorry for calling you a bitch."

"I've been called worse by bigger people," she voiced, nonchalant, despite the way her eyes had been glistening for the past couple minutes. "Now get out of here."

Ten Minutes Later

There was a chilling breeze outside, one that swept over me in a deep, penetrating motion, and left me shivering as I opened the back door to the cabin and laid eyes on the grounds. It was picturesque, with evergreen trees and snowy mountains and blankets of white over the rooftops. I absorbed the sight, the feeling, the chills that crawled up and down my spine, as a single silhouette crossed my line of vision. He was there, standing with his hands in his pockets and his head tilted up, to the sky.

It appeared as though he were searching for something up there: answers, or a sign, maybe.

I breathed in, and then out, watching as the heat that left me turned into translucent cloud-like bodies, reminding me of something.

From there, he turned, with the wind feathering through his hair and a human flush to his cheeks and neck. It went from cold to freezing in seconds, during which time we reached an unspoken understanding and moved closer and closer and closer — until I was able to bury my face into the curve of his neck. I did. I, then, released a deep, staggering breath as he embraced me, holding my quivering form tight to his chest.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to me, brushing through my hair. " — I'm so, so sorry."

I could hear it in his voice. I could hear the heart wrenching guilt, the remorse he felt in keeping the truth from me and the simultaneous ache that came with it. In the back of my mind, there were countless things I wished to say, to confess, to let him know, but none of those words came out.

"Please…" I whispered back, trembling, shaking, glancing up at him, bottom lip quivering as he tilted his head down, towards mine. "Just…just…"

"I love you," he told me, sending vibrations from his lips to mine, as he detonated the sorrow and the longing and the ache that ricocheted between us with a single kiss — devout and warm and soft and hard and rapturous and tranquil.

I could taste saltiness on his lips, from the moisture that cascaded down his cheeks. It broke my heart that he loved me, and that I loved him back. It broke my heart that this was happening, and that there was no promise it would ever happen again. "Don't stop," I begged him, breathing hard, sucking in what little oxygen I could as his hands traveled from my hair to my dress, tugging at the fabric with desperation. "Please don't stop."

"I can't…" he murmured in response, kissing me with such depth and such sublime undertaking, that it rippled through me for months, years afterwards. "I won't…"

A/N: Please don't hate me lol. Just know that the story isn't over. There's more. Much, much more.

Cheers

xo.