Disclaimer: The following is based on actual events. Only the names, locations, and events have been changed. And completely thieved from Jo Rowling. So I called people to call her people and her people's people told my people's people that I had her informal permission to borrow them. And I totally put hints of RHPS and I stole a name from Hedwig and the Angry Inch, can you find them? Please forgive any blatant thievery.

Warnings: EWE. Excessively AU, sort of when it came to DH, I picked and chose what worked with my story. This story is sometimes funny, sometimes angsty, and sometimes heartwarming/wrenching. But always amusing. Sexy sex, sex, sex. Here it goes into your brain.

Part IV

The Whomping Willow was a Dicotyledon plant of the Salix species and came from the Salicaceae family. It was also deciduous, but most people didn't care to know. Unless they were one of those over-analytical, logical, dreamers that suffered from a mild case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

Which Hermione Granger decidedly was.

It was imperative to her daily functioning to know the what, where, who, why and how of everything that she encountered. She made lists, diagrams, and charts. Created labels and drew lines. Everything had a place and she categorized it efficiently. It was how she made her world turn comfortably.

Honestly, she did realize that she was off her rocker. But hey, love makes you do crazy things.

And he made her behave that way because he was the one she was utterly and hopelessly devoted to. That detestable wizard.

Well, more of a coward, really. Because truly, he wasn't that terrible. Just infuriating. Spoiled. Yes, most categorically a pampered brat.

But being an impossible idealist, Hermione loved him. Very much so. And when asked why she would launch into a detailed and scientific explanation of the effects of intermingling of testosterone and estrogen. The brain was assaulted by a chemical cocktail of neurotransmitters. Consisting of one part adrenaline, one part dopamine and one part serotonin. Better known as attraction, but really it causes the brain to go berserk and behave much like a drug addict. Soon after it settled into the wretched agony of attachment. At this point the listener of such drivel would become glossy-eyed and vacant. Information overload, she was sure. Because love was much more than a feeling and honestly, anyone who didn't realize that was seriously misinformed and uneducated.

But love him she did. In a disgustingly saccharine and wholly pathetic way. Despite her sound reasoning and devout level-headedness, she was still the good girl who wanted the bad boy. She wanted to be the one to tame him. The face of beauty that stayed the beast's hand.

She was just kind of fucked up like that. And rationally, it was probably because he refused to treat her the way she knew she deserved. He was mysterious and sexy. Who wouldn't love that? A bowl of petunias perhaps.

It was really basic science, though. To fall in love you simply find a stranger, reveal intimate details about your life for a half hour, and stare deeply into each other's eyes for four minutes.

She'd known him for too long; knew every minute facet of his rotten persona, and had stared into his stupid peculiar eyes for years.

They had an interesting rapport. She would make an off-hand comment to point out his less than finer attributes, he would sneer a snark. Then, she would vomit a dictionary and before she could shut her fat mouth he would do it for her. With his own.

Usually, anyway. Before she had decided to move out and anyhow she had always assumed that their break up was nothing short of temporary. Corporal punishment. He wouldn't give her what she wanted, so she figured she'd leave and then he would realize what he had lost and come running back into her life. Brandishing Excalibur on a white steed all the while waxing poetry about his condemned soul and how she was his salvation.

Yes, she daydreamed like a school-girl, and those fantasies had been dashed when she saw him intimately locked with Blaise's mum at the entrance of a very fine and expensive hotel.

He had never whisked her away to luxury hotels to be pampered and worshiped.

The god-damned prat.

Hermione huffed and grabbed the nearest reading material, throwing her gal pals a reproachful glare.

Apparently, Pansy had been on a terrible date and treated herself to a new wardrobe to lift her spirits. Immediately she had called in Ginny to help her alter the pieces that didn't quite fit. That was Pansy's way though. She bought what she wanted, prices and sizes be damned.

"And then he asked me to pick a pecan out of his teeth! I don't even know a person who would do that on the first date," Pansy was saying while she held her body perfectly still.

Ginny, with a mouthful of straight pins, and her wand moving along the hem of Pansy's sparkly silver tunic dress, made proper mmhmms and uh-uhs at the appropriate moments, but she was clearly more focused on her tailoring.

Flipping through the magazine hectically, slamming the pages together as she turned them, Hermione tried to keep her hurt and seething jealousy out of her head. But all she could see was Mrs. Zabini's perfect red mouth devouring Draco's as he eagerly clutched at her flawlessly toned body.

Pansy and Ginny paused in their chatting and mending to stare at Hermione as if she had grown gills and was gasping for water. Finally Ginny spat out her pins and said, "What's got your knickers knotted?"

"My knickers are properly placed on my bum, thank you." Because she didn't have a problem. None at all. Hermione was problem free. Easy and breezy. Completely.

"Oh? So you just enjoy murdering fashion rags?" Pansy inquired, her willowy frame akimbo on the stool.

"Yes. I. Do." Hermione barked. Because maybe fashion was terribly overrated and honestly, real women don't truly look like that every day anyway.

Pansy pursed her lips and nodded her dark head, "Mmm-hmm. Well, don't. That's an Indian Vogue and I haven't had the chance to look through it yet."

Hermione sighed and carefully returned the magazine to the coffee table, making a brilliant show of softly placing it down and smoothing the cover, her brown eyes scathing and annoyed. Heaven forbid she'd crease an Indian Vogue. It wasn't the Holy Grail for Circe's sake.

"Thank you doll face." Pansy flashed her most dazzling smile and then gestured for Ginny to finish.

But Hermione suddenly wished she bit her nails or fiddled her thumbs because an irritating ennui settled over her and she began to fidget unattractively. There wasn't a book in sight aside from fashion and sports periodicals, and although neither really peaked her interests, she reached for a Quidditch publication and flipped it open to an editorial of a famous female Quidditch player, accompanied with a photograph of her in a very scanty…thing (Hermione guessed it was supposed to be a swimsuit, but it looked more like clippings of rope and linen). The witch kept rolling around provocatively in the sand throwing Hermione suggestive smiles and saucy winks. Disgusted, Hermione threw the issue down, "If I were you, Pansy, I'd force Blaise to keep that rubbish in his own room."

Biting her inner cheek, Pansy glared at Hermione pointedly, "Really? What about those boffing rags you allowed Dra—"

"Where is Blaise today?" Ginny intervened tactfully. "I thought he slept in on Saturdays."

Pansy sighed. "He usually does, but his mother—"

Hermione shot out a barking, "Ha."

"Nimue's knickers, Hermione, what is causing you to be so cross today?" Ginny exasperated, giving up the mending and acknowledging that she was never going to finish as long as her friend was in a funk.

Hermione bit her lip nervously. She didn't like talking to her two best girl friends about her relationship with Draco, but she had been hoping one of them would bring it up. It was strange that now that Ginny had asked, Hermione wasn't sure if she was ready. To spill her emotions on the floor for the whole world to examine was a scary prospect and she usually preferred to hold them inside until she exploded. If she told them her problem, there was so much that she would have to explain and it would make her seem like a jealous and stupid bint. Those were the two things she never wished to be. But they were her friends; she was supposed to be able to say anything to them. Conceding that they may be her only hope, Hermione said, "I've been holding this in all day, but—"

"Ugh! I know, all right." Pansy said and stepped down off the stool. "You are jealous of my hair." The raven-haired witch was probably joking, as it was known that Hermione did covet Pansy's straight, manageable locks.

"What?! No!" Hermione rolled her eyes and rubbed at her face, "Swear to secrecy."

"Oooh gossip, I do swear!" Pansy grinned.

"Just tell us, Hermione, we won't tell. I swear it." Ginny sat beside Hermione, placing a comforting and friendly hand on her shoulder.

"I saw Draco leave Bacharach's with … with Blaise's mum and then I followed them and then … then … Isawthemsnog," she rushed out.

A scandalized look fell upon Ginny's gaping face. "That old SLAG!"

But Pansy was doubled over, clutching her stomach, absolutely hysterical in a fit of bubbly giggles.

"It's not a laughing matter! It's not even in the same arena as funny!" Hermione yelled at her, feeling betrayed and exposed. Pansy's incessant laughter was a prime example of why Hermione was reluctant to talk about her worries.

"NO! It's just," Pansy chuckled, "last night when I returned home, Draco and Blaise were in the middle of a magnificent row." She pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter. "Apparently Draco had dinner with his parents and Neravedova, but the entire time she was coming on to him rather strongly. He was furious and blamed Blaise. It was hilarious, Hermione, because he was clearly very upset. I think he even mentioned being scarred for life." She chortled softly, the last of her comic hysteria subsiding.

Hermione chewed on her full bottom lip and considered that she might have really been mistaken. "So he didn't sleep with Mrs. Zabini?"

Pansy shook her head, her bobbed hair cut and dangly earrings recklessly dancing against her neck, "No, silly cow."

"And he isn't interested in her?"

"Of course not."

Hermione gave a small, tight smile, "When I saw … that ... I realized …" She licked her lips, "I want him back."

It was as if a brick house had been lifted from her shoulders by a grey gale.

"Oh?" asked Pansy, her mouth curling with a wise smirk.

"Yes."

"Why did you leave him in the first place?" Ginny asked, "You never did tell us."

"Well, it's complicated, but …" She sighed and felt the sting of tears in her eyes, "For you to understand completely, I have to start at the beginning. When Draco and I became involved, we both wanted the same thing. He was at the height of his Quidditch career and I was working long hours researching for the orphanage. We wanted to be together, live together, but we didn't want to be like the other couples we knew. We didn't want to follow the rules. We promised to be the anti-couple. Never get married, never have kids. Because it seemed that everyone that we knew who had kids and were married, were unhappy. It ruined their relationship. They didn't have sex anymore, they didn't get to be themselves, and they didn't do anything!" As Hermione admitted this, she was able to recognize how foolish the idea was. It was the observation of silly kids.

"It's true." Ginny said sadly. "Every since Harry and I said 'I do', there are so many things we don't." Her mouth pressed into a fond smile of endearment. "But there is this undeviating comfort in knowing that I get to go to sleep every night with the wizard of my dreams. That I'm spending my life making memories with someone special. Together." Her eyes were alive and glistering. "I like knowing that through the good times and the hard times, I don't have to go at it alone. That I have someone permanently there to hold my hand."

"See!" Hermione exclaimed. "I agree! But we were supposed to be just cohabitating." She frowned. "And, although it was amazing. Having sex anywhere in the cottage; flying off to his villa in De Panne at the drop of the hat. There was always this pink elephant that someday one of us might change our minds and leave without any strings attached. Just simply 'So long and here's looking at you'." Hermione looked down at her un-manicured fingernails, a pout forming on her mouth. "Then, a few months ago at Will's third birthday party, y'know Ginny, at Fleur and Bill's place. Marie asked me why I didn't have a family. And I don't know why, but I was suddenly overwrought. I guess because I realized instantly that I wanted one and I was never going to have one with Draco. But mostly, after five years of being together, it suddenly mattered that Draco never had told me he even loved me."

"That's a bloody good reason to leave, in my opinion," Pansy said softly but then her nose wiggled in a way that suggested she didn't understand something. "He never told you he loved you?" She raised her lips in disbelief.

"No he didn't. I tried to tell him one night when we were fooling around on the sofa. Straight out, no vacillating around. I told him I loved him and he started talking about the Chesterfield and how he always found the neatest objects in the cushions and cracks. I got angry and we argued. In the loo! I didn't care though, I'd had enough." Hermione was grateful that she didn't cry and that Ginny and Pansy were quiet, thoughtful and comforting.

"What if he never tells you and never settles down? Are you willing to live with that?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," Hermione said automatically. "I'd rather be with him forever in sin, than never touch him again," she stated forcefully.

Hermione meant it too. After all, relationships were about sacrifice and compromise. She would gladly surrender her domestic dreams and concede her moral values to be with Draco for as long as he wanted her.

"Then we'll help you get him back. I bet he does miss you." Ginny smiled and smoothed Hermione's hair out of her face.

"Yeah, hmm. Wait!" Pansy said brightly and crossed to stand in front of both of them. "I've got a plan, now listen," She moved to crouch at Hermione's feet but suddenly she leapt up quickly, "Oh!"

"What's wrong?" Ginny and Hermione said in unison with genuine concern.

Pansy grimaced, "I forgot about the pins."

The three witches fell into easy laughter and Hermione decided that she was indeed blessed with the sweetest friends anyone could ever ask for. They had raised her spirits and reminded her that she could trust them. For the first time in years, she felt that perhaps things might actually go her way. With Pansy's sly conniving, detailed lists and strategic planning, and the lovesick delusions that anything was possible.

Hermione was suddenly uncharacteristically optimistic as Pansy launched into a diatribe about a wizard's basic needs and how to attend to them. Ultimately though, Hermione had to finally agree with Pansy, getting Draco back should be a piece of cake.

a/n: So I'd really like to thank, again, those who have review. I do appreciate it, so very much, I love the little pieces each of you share and I'm really thrilled to receive them. I really am glad you are enjoying the story thus far and I hope to hear from you all again in the coming installments. Any questions, suggestions or corrections, please let me know!

I'd like to thank my beta's: moxicrimefightr, floorcoaster, and spadul. Each of you is amazing, wacky and everything a narcissistic writer such as me could wish for. I am totally and completely the luckiest kid ever because I have the most brilliant team to help me achieve this goal. Thank you for indulging me.