[A/N: It's been a while since the last update, but I'm back with a new one! I've been busy with university, and I only have a week and a half until I'm finished with 2nd year, so that'll all be over and done with (for the summer, at least) soon. Plus... It's my 20th birthday on Sunday, I can't believe how quickly time has passed lately. That ALL said... I hope you enjoy this one! From how we're going, I think you can guess that there won't be a lot of chapters after this. (I've been watching too many kdramas, I almost just typed episodes instead of chapters) ENJOY.]

Chapter 12:

A Truth Is Accepted

Hermione hadn't expected any visitors that night. It was already well past half-eleven, and most of her old school friends had children of their own. There were only two people who she imagined it might be, and one was very unlikely to knock on her door without calling first. And yet, although she'd already determined who her caller likely was, Hermione could never have imagined that he was as far gone as he was, and that in such a state, he'd decided it best to rest against the door. So, as she turned the doorknob, the door quickly gave way and sent Draco crashing to the ground, dragging Hermione down with him in a heap.

It was several seconds before he moved, but he soon supported himself on his elbows so their faces weren't far apart, the rest of his body still on top of hers. A slow grin spread across his mouth, transforming his face from tipsy and introspective to boyish and happy. Hermione could still see the hint of his smirk, though, as he noticed her watching him. The smirking elements disappeared as he clambered to his feet, surprisingly nimbly for someone who'd clearly drunk quite a lot, and offered her a hand up.

"Hello."

She placed her hand in his and allowed herself to be pulled upright.

There was no humour in her voice when she responded.

"Hello, Draco."

That night began a week of unexpected events.

One truth was accepted;

One relationship ended;

One person was lost;

Three unlikely men confessed their feelings to each other;

And one kiss was bestowed.

There was a man in the house.

On the sofa.

In her house.

Draco Malfoy was in her house, drunk and half-sitting-half-collapsed on her sofa.

His eyes had slowly shut as he settled into the cushions, where he'd landed when Hermione couldn't handle carrying him any further.

"'Mione..."

She stood in the doorway, studying the floor, hesitant to enter the room and fully commit herself to the situation. Her name on his lips made her head bolt up.

"'Mione... why won't she forgive me? You told me that over time she might forgive me, Mum, but I don't think she ever will," he whimpered, half-asleep.

Hermione made a choice and moved into the room, somehow ending up at the other end of the sofa that Draco sat on. Where on Earth was this coming from? Was he really that messed up by her not forgiving him? It wasn't that she hated him. She was... she was punishing him. Hermione was surprised by her revelation. Had she really been punishing him?

With one eye cracked open, Draco sighed and shifted on the sofa, lying down fully. Hermione yelped. His head was in her lap.

"Mum... what can I do?"

He sounded so hopeless. So pitiful. So definitely not the man she thought had abandoned her to marry someone else. He was sad.

And it was her fault.

"All I want is for her not to hate me..." His voice was drowsy, dreamlike, but so very sad. "What can I do?"

Hermione said nothing. After several minutes, his breathing slowed and deepened.

He was asleep.

On her lap.

The first thing Hermione noticed when she woke up was the crick in her neck. Her bed was unusually comfortable and she didn't often fall asleep reading these days, since she was exhausted by the time she went to bed. But there she was, with a crick in her neck, sitting on the sofa, freshly awake. And there was a man on her lap.

WHAT?

It took several seconds of staring at the blond hair for Hermione to realise what had happened and who it was.

Drunk Draco.

He had come to her house drunk, fallen asleep on her sofa and mumbled things in his sleep that made Hermione realise just how awful she'd been to him. She was punishing him, and he obviously wasn't the person who'd unceremoniously and accidentally dumped her long ago. She had to accept the truth that he wasn't an awful person and that she had to try harder to be nice to him. She'd forgiven him, but needed to show it better. Punishing him was mean and spiteful, even if she'd enjoyed it more than she was willing to admit.

His head shifted on her lap and her eyes drifted to his face. It was peaceful, empty of the sadness in his voice the night before. Draco looked a lot younger, and Hermione absently noted that it had been a long time since she'd slept beside him.

A lock of hair lay across his forehead, landing on his closed eye. Her hand itched forward, gently brushing it away.

Slowly, hesitantly, her fingers ghosted his eyebrows, his nose, his lips.

He looked exactly the same, this was exactly the same, but everything was different.

The fireplace flashed and a familiar voice shouted, "Mummy!"

Draco's opened quickly in shock at the sound, Hermione's hand instinctively jumping back.

What had she just done?

How exactly was she going to explain this situation?

More importantly, when exactly had Draco woken up?