Breaking

Disclaimer: Everything 'Harry Potter' belongs to J.K. Rowling.

A/N: Thank you all so much for your continued support! I don't imagine this story being too much longer, but I would like to draw the tension out a bit! Not exactly sure yet where this is headed, but I'm thinking towards the undoubtedly happy and fluffy side. Maybe not yet, though.

"I just don't know what to do, Gin," Hermione mumbled tiredly over her steaming cup of tea, "I just don't know what to do anymore." Her slender hands idly plucked at the crimson handle of her tea cup, seemingly not strong enough to bring the liquid to her lips. Hermione had dark circles under her red-rimmed eyes and Ginny knew she hadn't been sleeping much, if at all. Well, who would be able to sleep when they couldn't even tell how they felt? Ginny glanced absentmindedly around the small café before peering through the dim lighting at her frail friend.

"And you haven't been back for two weeks," Ginny asked delicately, not keen on upsetting her friend further.

"No, I haven't been able to bring myself to do it. He's sent owls, oh, he's sent owls," Hermione said dryly, "but I haven't gone back to the Manor. I mean, would you do any different?" At Ginny's look, Hermione retracted her statement. "Okay, you would. Regardless, you are not me, and I definitely am not harbouring intense hidden feelings for the man." Ginny's mouth opened with an impending retort. "I'm not, Gin! The only feeling I have for Malfoy is hatred, and that most definitely is not hidden. So stop giving me those looks, as if I'm your latest romance novel."

Ginny just sighed and held her tongue. What was the use? She'd already told Hermione what she thought of the situation, but somehow hot, steamy make-up sex did not seem to please the perplexed girl. Instead, Ginny just stared wearily at the girl in front of her, watching her cautiously sip at her cup of tea. Why wouldn't she just admit it? Why couldn't Hermione, for once, go with the way things felt, rather than what was the 'sensible thing' to do?

"I think I need to be getting home now, Gin. I've taken another case, and I'll be needing to read up on some curses." Hermione slid from her chair and dropped a couple of notes onto the crude plastic table. Ginny shook her head before rifling through her purse for the few pounds to pay Hermione back. "Whatever you say, Hermione dear. Owl me when you figure things out, alright? Or when you wake up next to Malfoy, whichever happens first."

"I just don't know what to do, Blaise," Draco mumbled tiredly over a glass of his father's most expensive brandy. "I just don't know what to do anymore."

"It's not a bad thing, you know, mate," Blaise said, taking a gulp from his own glass. He would need it tonight; Draco was having a full blown pity-party for himself. Blaise had shown up sometime after dinner only to find Draco still in his pajamas from the night before. Always the drama queen, Blaise thought to himself, reaching over to grab the somewhat full bottle of brandy. He definitely needed a refill.

"Oh no, it's a terribly good thing! Running away from a woman after I much-more-than-kissed her, well, I'm not sure I've ever done anything so good in my life." Draco snorted after his sarcastic comment and downed his glass of liquor. "Especially muddy Granger. Jesus, Blaise, tell me how this is good." The blond's eyes slid closed as his pale fingers massaged his temples rhythmically. The warm, blazing fire crackled in the background and Blaise stared deeply into the bluest of flames before starting.

"First off, I hardly believe you still see Granger as 'muddy'. I doubt that you've seen her that way since she hit puberty. Secondly, what I meant by what I said, was that it is not so bad to have fallen in love with Hermione Granger. You could've done much worse. And regardless of what your father may have force-fed you, she's a more than decent human being. Quite lovely actually, if you get past the enormity of her hair." Blaise made a motion around his head with his fingers before pointing at Draco, whose eyes had snapped viciously open at the word 'love'. "If you ask me, it's been a long time coming."

"Well, I didn't ask," Draco growled before standing up to pace the darkened study. "Love, Blaise?! You've got to be joking. I don't love Granger. I don't! What happened, hell, what happened was the result of unresolved tension between the two of us. I'll admit that much. But to go as far as to think I have feelings for the girl? Well, to be quite honest, that's absolute bullshit. She's so far below my standards; she'd never live up to the expectations of the Malfoy family. I don't love her, like her, even lust after her. I don't, Blaise, I don't."

"I don't need to be convinced, Draco. Sounds as if you do, though."

Hermione was ready to Avada herself. Ready to Avada herself right there, in front of Draco's front door. Yes, that's right, Draco's door. At the Manor. Where she had sworn she would never return.

By some stroke of unluck, Draco had informed Hermione's boss of her lack of attention on his case. Within minutes, her obese and sweaty boss had flooed to her flat, flabby arms waving about erratically as he screamed that she must return to work, the very next day at that. Sucking up her pride, Hermione had dragged herself out of bed that morning before apparating herself to North Wiltshire, where the Malfoy Manor was located. Now, as she stood anxiously at the door, Hermione realised that she'd much rather be six feet under than be back in Malfoy's reach.

"Well look who finally returned," an all too familiar voice drawled from behind the open mahogany door. Draco stepped closer to Hermione, leaning nonchalantly on the doorframe. His arms crossed, and Hermione ignored the definition of muscle that couldn't be hidden by his Oxford grey cashmere sweater. The man's style was impeccable; everything he wore screamed expensive price tags and designer labels.

"Are you going to allow me in, or would you rather just stare at me all day," Hermione bit out icily. "Because if that's the case, I'll just send a photo and make it much easier for the both of us." Reluctantly, the blond before her stepped aside and she hesitantly walked into his house.

"I don't see why you had to tell Murdock," Hermione continued, stalking across the foyer to the grand staircase. Her hips swung determinedly in a womanly way that she couldn't control as she strode towards the stairs. Hermione began up the stairs, only to spin around seconds later to face Draco, who had just muttered something at her retreating form.

"What did you just say to me," Hermione ground out, her hands settling on her hips in a menacing way very reminiscent to Mrs. Weasley. Draco shrunk visibly before her, and he quickly jut out his chin in the proudest way he could manage. There was no way Granger would instill fear in him; he was a Malfoy. A Malfoy.

"I said nothing, Granger. Quit being so batty," Draco said casually, a pathetic cover for what he had said only moments ago.

"Tell me what you said, Malfoy," Hermione whispered, her voice sharp and acidic. "Tell. Me. Now." Draco closed his eyes, silently praying that everything would remain intact.

"I said," Draco began, almost unsteadily, "I said 'last time you questioned me, look where we ended up, you bitch.'" Within seconds, Hermione had flown down the stairs, advanced and Draco and shoved her simple oak wand into his leanly muscled chest.

"Perhaps you're back too soon," Draco spit out, a look of contempt gracing his aristocratic features. "Might I remind you, Miss Granger, that you're here to do a job. Not to get yourself arrested for assaulting the man that employed you." Hermione's eyes closed to mere slits, and her icy tone matched his own.

"And might I remind you, Mr. Malfoy, that this stopped being just a job as soon as you molested me." Hermione once again set off towards the stairs, only to be pulled back harshly by long fingers wrapped around her left elbow.

"Molested, Granger, is that it," Draco asked coldly. "I didn't force you to kiss me back. In fact, I believe I had you moaning my name. Surname of course, but if pet names are your thing..."

"Oh you absolutely vulgar creature," Hermione's shrill voice spoke before she yanked herself from his grip. She briskly walked away from Malfoy, leaving him standing quite alone in the over-decorated entrance hall. He couldn't find the strength to move until he heard the library door slamming angrily closed in the above corridor.

Hermione dusted imaginary dust from her modest black slacks as she stood from the floor of the library. Inhaling deeply, she rubbed her chilled fingers together rapidly before exiting from the room. She'd been practically locked in that stupid library for hours and was now cold and cramped. Hermione wanted nothing more than to break into a quick sprint and get out of the Manor as quickly as her legs would take her. Closing the library door almost silently behind her, Hermione crept down the corridor, avoiding the owner of the Manor at all costs. It was late and she just wanted to be home in her lounge clothes, curled up with a good book.

That would not be possible though, as Hermione saw Malfoy as soon as she reached the top of the steps. Exiting from one of the various drawing rooms surrounding the entrance hall, Draco walked with Blaise, laughing heartily at whatever the darker-complected man had just said.

"Honestly, mate, that's what she said! I kind of wanted to shove her out of my bed, right then and there," Blaise continued his story. "But I thought of how ungentlemanly that would seem, so I simply asked her to leave." Draco set off laughing again but stopped short as he caught sight of Hermione who had been sneaking down the stairs. She'd only made it half way down before he had noticed, and she cursed herself silently for her horrible stealth tactics.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd died up there, Granger," Draco said smartly, earning a glare from the woman. "But that would be wishful thinking on my part, wouldn't it?" Blaise rolled his sapphire eyes at his friends antics, and took a few steps in Hermione's direction.

"I'm sure what my friend meant to say is that he's grateful to have someone like you helping him with this little problem," Blaise said suavely, hoping to quell any anger and prevent an outburst from either Hermione or Draco. All hopes for such ceased when he noticed the fire in Hermione's eyes burn even more violently as she glared at his best friend. "Well Draco, Granger, I was just on my way out. Nice seeing you both." Blaise turned cautiously before hastening towards the door.

"Oh, Blaise, it's fine, I was just about to leave, actually," Hermione said as she pushed past the tall, Italian man. She seemed to be in just as much of a hurry to leave the Manor as he was.

"No, Granger, we need to talk," Malfoy spoke finally, his voice demanding and emotionless.

"Yes, Granger, you stay, please. I was about to take my leave anyway." Blaise turned once again to the door. Two small hands shot out and grabbed a hold of his biceps, stopping him in his tracks.

"Stay, Zabini," Hermione ground out, her eyes piercing and cold.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, ordering my friends around like that, in my house," Draco said incredulously from a few feet away. Hermione hadn't noticed his approach; she'd been much to focused on escaping.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, speaking to me like that?!"

"Blaise can leave if he'd like, you little cow. I can't believe you'd be so rude to a guest of mine. This is my house, not yours, Granger. Obviously, I mean, take a look around." Draco motioned to the grandeur of the room with his hands, his trademark smirk spread across his face.

"Oh you haughty snot! If you thought for a moment I'd spend more time with you than I'm already being forced to, well, you're sorely mistaken." Blaise found himself being roughly shoved aside as a small form with wild hair pushed by him towards the door.

"You're not going anywhere, Granger," Draco spoke, his voice quiet and unrelenting. Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, frozen by the intensity she heard in Draco's tone. "Not until we've spoken, at least. There are some... things we need desperately to work out." Hermione pivoted around to face Draco, her lips curled in a tight smile.

"In case you've not noticed, Malfoy, I'm not an animal. You can not command me as if I were one. I'm leaving, and I hope never to speak with you again. I'll be back when I find the time." With those words of parting, Hermione was out the door and apparating as far away from the Manor as she could get. Blaise remained standing by the door, hands shoved into his pockets, whistling almost silently a Weird Sisters' tune.

"Well, I think it's time you ask her on a date, mate."