She was beginning to whimper. He dared not glance at her, even though her nails, desperately painted clear over rough, torn edges, her nails were starting to dig into his chest, his arms, his neck as she began to realize that she had not been able to pick her savior, that it was not her cool, cold Draco that she clung to but another boy that had been there, a taller, rougher sort who was beginning to sweat as as his trainers pounded flat against the stairs beneath them, the fast breath and pulse through his torso stabilizing her, calming her own fast heart to know that he was concerned as much as she, this unknown struggler, and it was she he was afflicted with.

Pansy lost herself in thoughts of only herself and she remembered why her heart was supposed to beat, quicker than his, even.

She was blind.

-

It was when Hermione stumbled, caught in Draco's arms, that Harry suddenly realized he was conscious. He would not admit to it, would not speak to them, but his pride kept him being half-dragged, half-carried through the stairwells, choosing to slowly trudge behind the two who, as if having forgotten their entire purpose, chose instead to walk together, walking silently, heading towards the hospital wing as if they were only vaguely aware that it was there that they had a purpose. That only after this journey could they be free of him, and until then there was nothing to talk about.

So for the life of him Harry was unable to imagine what they would say when they got there.

He turned to them. They stared back at him and the hospital doors. Draco's arm wrapped itself around Hermione's shoulders and Harry closed his eyes and tried to breathe.

He looked at Draco, and not for long.

He looked at Hermione and she swallowed.

He opened his mouth to speak and turned to the hospital doors instead.

He looked back at the two of them, still immobile, and took a deep breath.

"Okay."

And he opened the door to admit himself into the Hospital Wing.

-

"You're blonde."

Draco glanced to Hermione. Her own hair was beginning to grow in, the pale pale skin underneath looking gray in comparison to the dark brown stubble.

He raised an eyebrow to her but she was not watching him. He rolled his neck against the grass so that he was facing skyward once more.

"I'm not sure how to respond to that, Hermione."

"With blue eyes."

His lip snatched in annoyance, Malfoy still did not look at her. "Yes, and with blue eyes."

Her responses came quickly. "I bet it's your purity shit."

He sighed. She continued.

"Do you think it's interesting that I could never have children with you?"

Neither said anything. It was taboo to speak of any meaning or of any future.

They were lying before the shore of the lake. It was October and they were waiting for another breeze to bruise the trees. Why had she never noticed before? This was the time of year that she was working with fervor for homework. She had never noticed the trees.

They were not normal. The evergreens turned blue and purple, the maples turned white and gold, everything else turned reds and purples, oranges and yellows, pinks and violets, darker greens and creamy whites.

They sighed. It was October and the only thing they could think about was the future. And so Hermione continued.

"All of your purity is insecure. You revel in recessive DNA."

"On the contrary, Hermione, it is this rarity that gives us our vain pride."

"I hate blue eyes."

"Must you be so difficult?"

"Must you feel to be so perfect?"

It was a Saturday and they had found nothing better to do than wave off the Hogsmeade weekend.

"I suppose you would have to find the most recessive pure-blooded girl. With pale hair, pale skin, pale, meaningless eyes. Just to keep up your deception, just to have an identical heir and a name face for the family."

Draco tied his eyebrows, holding his thumb and index to his forehead. "Shut up Granger."

Hermione sniffed and did not speak as he sighed out and turned, his face just above hers, his dumb blonde hair only making the sun brighter. She was about to cover her eyes with her fingers when he leaned down to kiss her, allowing her eyes to close and block out the sun themselves.

"My father is sterile," he whispered.

Hermione looked up. Draco had his wand in hand and held himself up on his elbow, more on top of her than before.

Muttering a word unfamiliar even on his own ancient tongue, Malfoy closed his eyes and gripped his wand, a tension gripping his previously placid face.

He leaned down to kiss her again and she could feel the scream that almost tore his lips from hers.

He pulled away and she opened her eyes to the boy that sat atop her.

He was gorgeous, in his own imperfect, fractured way.

Hermione screamed and shoved him off of her. Her feet slid in the mud as she tried to run away and Malfoy gripped her ankle violently, pulling her face first into sticks and leaves. His other hand grabbed her shoulder, pushing her into the dirt as her head whipped away from him, with his other hand he pinned down her waist.

"Hermione!"

She slapped him, watching the almost Malfoy-like shock cross his face. It wasn't good enough. Even as his small arm tried to knock away her wrist, Hermione slapped him again, screaming for good measure when he landed atop of her.

It was the perfect time for someone to save her from this stranger, this pursuing creep.

But Malfoy kissed her again.

And even as a presumed stranger, Hermione fell into it, the same comforting kiss as ever, the same boy who needn't tune into her frequency. Malfoy's hands, soft and infantile, almost uncomfortable as being a sudden teenager, gripped the back of her neck as Hermione tangled her own fingers into the soft light hair that fell to his shoulders.

He pulled away, feeling that Hermione was stabilized.

She looked up at him. He had dark gray eyes and a roman nose, a rounded chin.

She closed her eyes. She couldn't bear to see, couldn't care to understand.

His voice was deeper. She didn't know if she liked it.

"Hermione, I'm sorry." neither was adjusted to his voice. "I found out years ago and I couldn't bear to live with this."

Hermione said nothing and kept her eyes closed.

He sighed. "My mother couldn't leave my father. His family chose her. His fucking incest family chose her." Malfoy spat into the grass and Hermione opened her eyes to see that he was not looking at her. Feeling she could handle it so long as she did not meet his gaze, she sat up next to him, holding her knees as they looked into the lake.

"And so my father got to choose my real father."

He glanced at Hermione. "Don't start thinking I'm a fucking half blood. A muggle would have suffered an even worse death." The new Malfoy closed his eyes. Hermione looked away. It was too much. He had all the same factual genetics that would get him pointed out in a police station. He fit the description.

But to Hermione he looked nothing the same. His eyes and hair were darker but it was the rest of his face that made him a stranger.

"And so a suitor was found. He had my mother bring him to the house and seduce him while my father watched. When the man was done my father cursed him dead and fucked my mother one last time."

"So that he could always have the doubt that he wasn't sterile. That maybe your were his own son after all." Hermione said.

Malfoy sighed. "They tried everything. At first I think... I think they actually wanted a child. They got desperate. They wanted an heir and that was their priority, not raising it. I was born, I was charmed, and I became their only child."

He was scrawny. Unused.

"I don't believe you." She whispered. She didn't even want him to hear her.

"Hermione... I hated this." He pressed his new fingers against his new face. "I couldn't deal with it and because of that I grew adapted to my deception. I grew into it. I worked out, paid attention to my parents. I found out a year before I came to Hogwarts and it was only when I found out that I was not perfect that I truly wanted to be their protégé. I no longer wanted to be their child, any child; I didn't care for them to care for me. I dismissed my own nanny. It was when I came to this school that I was easiest to mold. And now I can't even deny it. I made my choice."

Hermione said not a word and Malfoy grabbed his wand.

Circling her palm around his wrist, Hermione leaned into him and laid the smallest kiss upon his lips. When she opened her eyes his were still closed, kept in the moment before.

"Someday," she whispered, "I don't want any of your faces to be alien to me."

"Someday," he croaked, "they'll pay for doing this to me."

Hermione smiled pityingly, glad that he could not see her.

He sighed and waved the wand upon himself, to wait until they could bear it again.

He opened his eyes, that terrible light blue again, his lips cracked in a tiny smile as Hermione's face soothed into him, her consistency as she ran her fingers from his cheek to his neck.

His arms wrapped themselves around her, pressing into her tightly, his anguished face pushed into her shoulder as she pulled even tighter.

Hermione shuddered a little as the wind blew by and Malfoy held her tighter. He shifted his head so that his mouth was almost into her neck, just below her ear.

"I love you," he breathed.

He could feel her hopeless smile against his shoulder. She held him tighter, raising her head only a minute.

"I love you too, Draco."

i know i said i would go into harrys feelings. i know i said i would write pansy/ron.

but i think i needed this to get me back on track.

im sorry it took so long, but you will all see much more soon.

if youre interested i was assaulted the other night and for some reason the fact that we got our windows smashed open with a pipe while we were driving away gave me incentive to write.

much love

mary