Hermione Granger had finally met her match. Which was why she wholeheartedly agreed to Malfoy's announcement when they were about to part ways that evening.

"Listen, Granger. I'd like to see you again," he had said.

Her answer to that was a blinding smile, something that had happened way before her mind had given her face full permission to do so. She could only take that as a good sign. After all, they clearly clicked and were on par with each other it was almost unreal. Where had he been all her life? Well, obviously Hogwarts, around and stuff but … really, where had he been all her life?

She resisted the horrifying urge to squeal and go "yes, yes, yes me too me too" like a dog and opted for a softer approach, such as that blinding smile and a "Yes, that'd be lovely."

And so they arranged for another meeting. And another, and another.

This would be the perfect time to say "and the rest is history", but alas, the life of one Hermione Granger was just about to get even more complicated than her current predicament of liking Draco and having a serious mental issue.

Her alter ego was behaving – according to Draco, who said that the lunatic had stopped trying to jump him and just popped in to say hi every now and then. Hermione did not know what to think of that.

Draco had reached out across the dinner table and grasped her hand gently, grey eyes looking up at her in concern, "Are you alright?"

This was their fourth date, a quiet, clandestine dinner at some Italian restaurant. To Hermione, it didn't start off as dates but she wondered: if they weren't dates, what were they exactly? Hanging out? She didn't think Draco Malfoy was the type to hang out with someone just to get to know them better. She was ready for to make Draco the object of her fascination and only that, but not after the second time they met. Brushes of hands, almost-shy glances and then well … the third date, Draco took her for a walk to his favourite hot dog and coffee stand in London, and Draco had grabbed her hand as they crossed the road and never let go until he had to, in order to hold his coffee and hot dog. After that, he resumed holding her hand to take her to some secondhand bookstore, like he'd been holding her hand for forever and a day.

"Hmm?" Hermione looked up and caught his gaze.

"You were frowning at your menu," Draco grinned.

"Oh, no, was just thinking," she smiled.

"About me, I hope," Draco said cheekily before winking. He let go of her hand and relaxed but the air was obviously romantic. Hermione couldn't and didn't want to deny it anymore.

"So full of yourself," Hermione whispered under her breath and smiled a little as she studied the menu again, and that earned her a laugh.

Now … the current problem was addressing the issue of her mental problem to Draco. She realized that she had to be straight him with before anything happened – at least before they kissed. And if Hermione's prediction was correct (as always was), that would happen tonight. This meant that they had to find a quiet place, just the two of them, so that she could come clean about it.

She inwardly cringed at the idea of telling Draco that it was her who stole the painting and ransacked his wine collection and acted like a dog in heat around him but … how shall she start her explanation?

Draco, I just get a little crazy around you. Romantically and literally.

Um, yeah, that sounded alright. Now to suggest a quieter place after dinner …

"Care for some more wine at my place after dinner?" Draco asked suddenly and as their eyes caught once more, Hermione knew. They were definitely going to kiss later, and she had to squeeze in that bit of explanation before said kiss happened. Oh, crap. Well, at least she would be able to give him a choice – between dating a recovering (yeah, right) psycho or walking away. The choice was up to him, and she was ready for both.

"Showing off your classier collection, I presume?" Hermione retorted. "But yes, I would care for some of your wine."

Not that I haven't tasted them.

Draco watched her for a moment before grinning, "Not really. That was just me being polite about my intention to sit you down at my sofa and snog you silly, but if it's wine that you're after, we could have that too."

Instantly, Hermione's face flushed red and her heart sped at Draco's candor. It was much appreciated, nonetheless. They both knew they were smart enough to figure out the rest, and Hermione was so used to being able to see right through Ron's fidgety behaviour before holding hands and kissing her and all those badly-orchestrated events. This was a nice change. At least Draco didn't think she was dumb enough to not expect it. And oh, was she expecting it!

They Apparated straight to the Draco's and Hermione inwardly winced at the idea that she'd been here so many times late at night, stealing wine, stealing paintings, attempting to steal heart …

"The den is over there," Draco pointed as he unfurled his thick scarf from his neck, "Have a seat and I'll be right with you."

"There?" Hermione pointed just to confirm, and Draco nodded as he left to get that debatable wine. While it is true that she'd physically been in here before, she had no recollection of the house nor its contents and directions. Tentatively walking towards the den, she sat down at a maroon sofa and made herself comfortable, gazing at the flames in the fireplace.

Her heart was beating fast in anticipation – for both the "talk" and the kiss. Hopefully in that order, because judging from the state of Draco's lips, if the latter happened first, there was no way she'd be able to conduct the talk.

"Here you go," a hand shot out of nowhere, handing her a glass of wine and the smell was so wonderful that Hermione knew this was one of his best.

"Ah, thank you, Draco," she replied and Draco took a seat next to her.

They both sipped on the wine, quietly watching the flames.

"Exquisite," Hermione mumbled, letting Draco know that this was fucking great wine before she tipped her head back and swallowed the entire content. Hissing gratefully at the sudden bravado the wine gave her, she placed the glass on the coffee table before turning to Draco with full determination.

"Draco, there is something I need to tell you, and it's very urgent," she said hastily, as her eyes followed Draco moving to put his half-finished wine glass on the coffee table too. "It is very imperative that you know this, because -"

And then Draco grabbed the sides of her face and caressed it so gently that Hermione almost whined.

"Because?" Draco whispered, face inches away from her.

"Because it pertains to -"

"It pertains to?" Draco whispered, and his lips brushed ever-so-slightly against hers, teasing.

"Because … mmmphhhmmm," Hermione couldn't wait to taste those lips so she decided on mashing their lips together and humming her explanation (or appreciation), hoping that his lips would somehow decipher that message.

Obviously not because Draco greeted her kiss with equal enthusiasm, and it was absolutely perfect. In that moment, Hermione's brain was sending out various messages, a strange mixture of "oh crap" and "oh yes" in succession.

The last bits of that kiss was spent clinging on to each others' lips like they'd never get a taste again, but Draco pulled back first and gazed at her with an unnamed expression on his face. There was wonder, and then there was relief and somehow, knowing.

"I knew it," Draco whispered.

"Knew what?" she said, her hands clutching his shirt tightly. Hermione was expecting him to say something romantic like in those Muggle movies, like "I knew it … I knew our kiss was going to be worth the wait" or some garbage like that.

"I knew you'd kiss different than the other you."

Before Hermione could even comprehend or express her puzzlement, she suddenly lost control of her body and mind, and it felt as if she was being pulled away forcefully. Draco was getting further and further away from her line of vision and as much as she tried to fight for control, she lost. Her eyes rolled back and she lost consciousness.

Hermione's head was limp, as if she was asleep in an upright position, being held straight only by Draco's grip around her.

Draco watched with an extremely serious mien, but he did not relinquish his hold on her. He was … waiting.

And then Hermione's head and neck moved, as if she was stretching the muscles there. There was a heavy intake of breath and a deep sigh before her eyes opened. Her entire posture changed, her body language as well as the way she gazed at Draco.

"Mmm, been waiting for this ever since I met you, baby," she said, her voice lowered as she watched Draco predatorily. She all but jumped on him and started kissing him, hands working furiously on his buttons and the belt of his trousers and the zip.

Draco was unresponsive. His face hardened and his grip on her tightened, bordering on painful.

Hermione pulled back and groaned.

"Ow, you're hurting me. Though I don't hate it," Hermione winked and then tried to inch closer towards Draco's face once more. This time, Draco immediately flinched back and put some distance between them. "Now that hurt, and that I hated," Hermione pouted.

"Who are you?"

"Don't be silly, baby. Hermione Granger, of course. The one you're clearly infatuated with," Hermione shrugged and crossed her legs.

Draco raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

"It's true. I am Hermione Granger. She is me, and I am her – we are one. I was created out of necessity. I am the necessary evil in her life, so to speak," Hermione supplied and made a grab for Draco's wine glass. She gulped down the rest of it and sent a satisfied smile towards Draco.

"Excellent taste as usual."

"Why do you say you were created out of necessity?" Draco folded his hands this time, like a professional.

"Oh please don't go all therapist on me," Hermione rolled her eyes, "It doesn't work. I am far too strong for that. In fact, I am growing stronger and stronger. I was okay with taking the night shift, but thanks to you and my desire for you, I am fighting so very hard to be the dominant one. And then kick old Hermione Granger out of the picture. Entirely."

Draco frowned at her.

"And why would you want to do that?"

"To have you, of course. All to myself," Hermione smiled sweetly.

"You see, therein lies the problem. I don't want you – I want her," Draco answered seriously while gesturing with his hand, the frown still marring his features.

Hermione rolled her eyes again.

"We're the same, you'll eventually accept it."

"No, and I refuse. I don't think I'll let you."

"Whatever, Mr. Mind Healer," Hermione shrugged and began inching towards Draco once more. "Let's continue where we stopped before she takes over again."

Draco stopped her in her tracks with a single hand and shook his head.

"You haven't told me why you were created."

"Why should I tell you that?" Hermione raised an eyebrow as her finger began inching towards the zip once more.

Sighing, Draco smacked her hands away and began to do up his zipper and belt. Hermione was looking more and more upset by the second.

"What are you doing?!" she all but cried out.

"Well, since you're not telling me anything, I might as well put my shirt on and be on my way," Draco said simply and pulled up his zip.

"NO!" Hermione bellowed and surrendered, "Alright, alright! I'll tell you, I'll tell you!"

"Go on," Draco stopped mid-motion and waited.

"It was the war. Trauma, inability to stop obsessing over what has happened, guilt, stress, unavailability of outlets – the whole enchilada. So hence," she answered crisply.

Draco was quiet for long moments, and he seemed to be deep in thought. After a while, he looked at Hermione and asked gently, "May I speak to her please?"

"Why?" Hermione demanded childishly.

"For me, at least," Draco said, mustering his most charming expression ever, "You would do that for me, wouldn't you?"

Hermione blinked and then breathed heavily, "I will do anything for you."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"So let me speak to her."

"Bye, love," Hermione grinned cheekily and then her eyes rolled back, and she fell forward into Draco's chest.

"Hermione?" a voice called out.

So concerned, so … gentle.

So Draco.

Hermione's nostrils were also invaded by the smell of Draco.

"Hermione," the voice called again.

"Draco?" Hermione mumbled.

"Yes."

And then Hermione's eyes flew open and she got up so fast that she elbowed Draco's rib in the process.

"Ow!" Draco exclaimed and Hermione immediately backed away to the end of the sofa, opposite Draco.

Draco was watching her almost tiredly, or was it pityingly?

Hermione studied him – based on the way he was looking at her and … the state of his clothes as well as hers … she knew something was up. Something had happened.

Fuck.

"Draco … I …"

"Granger," he said, and shook his head right away. He approached her slowly and took her hands in his, stroking them gently. "Hermione. I know."

"No … no … tell me you didn't … she didn't … I didn't?" she stammered, a thousand thoughts raced through her mind and she fought the urge to just sleep it off right then and there. She didn't want to deal with this right now.

"Yes, to all of that and no to the last one, she didn't rape me," Draco reassured her, as if he could read her mind. "But here, listen to me."

"No … no … I can't believe this! This is getting out of hand!" Hermione shook her head furiously, and she thought she probably looked like a psycho. Which … was obviously what she was.

"Hermione, listen to me," Draco tried again, gently.

"I need to go – bye, Malfoy. And sorry," she tore her hands away from Draco's grasp, and stood up. Her face was so hot and her hands were simultaneously cold and she didn't know what to do at the moment but leave – except her mind was in such a mess that she didn't know how to leave.

"Hermione! Listen to me!" Draco said, raising his voice a little.

Hermione blinked at him.

"I knew," he said, looking up at her guiltily. "I knew – the first few times, I knew. I do it for a living, Hermione."

Hermione was indignant, affronted. She knew what he was on about now. Her eyes flashed with hurt and Draco visibly winced.

"You … you knew all alone? You knew I … so was all of that a sham then? Those dates and conversations and time?" Hermione began, her verbal diarrhea gathering momentum.

"No, Hermione …"

"You … was I just another case of yours then? Another person to save? Was I just something to boost your ego and you career and your self-affirmation? To uncover my condition and subsequently try to heal me?" she hissed.

"I'm trying to help."

"I didn't ask for your help, Malfoy," she yelled, defensive, "As I recall, I am not your patient. As I recall, I asked for another Mind Healer. Shove off, Malfoy."

She cast him a dirty look before grabbing her wand, finally able to figure out how to leave.

"Look, I know this hypnotherapist. Very good. That's the last resort when medication and therapy do not work, as in your case."

"In my case …" Hermione was biting back tears of anger and frustration and humiliation at this point. "In my case!"

She nodded and kept nodding, as if telling herself something. Her eyes were shining with tears and she finally swallowed before deciding to stay no longer.

"Au Kar Mun. In Diagon Alley. She's a renowned hypnotherapist from China. Look her up, please. Hermione, please. I know that choice is absolutely yours, but please. Please get you back. Entirely," Draco said, eyes beseeching and gleaming with utter genuineness. "Heed my advice. If not as a professional, then as a friend. A friend that has the potential to be so much more, and cares deeply about you."

Had Hermione been OK, she would've found that moment perfect and romantic … but she was too pissed, too humiliated and her mind was so tangled up that she couldn't handle anything else.

"Bye, Draco."

With a 'pop', she was out of Draco's home.

DUN DUN DUN!
TBC!

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