Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or places. They all belong to JK Rowling.

I told you that last chapter was sad. This one will be a little lighter, with a little bit of snogging. :P

Enjoy!

Love,

Avoline

Draco stared at the roof of the tent. They had changed locations since the fight with Ron. Hermione had insisted on it. Now they were camped percariously on a cliff. He figured she had chose the location because it was the epitome of how she felt. Ron's violent departure had left her lost and broken. Draco was pretty sure she wasn't too happy about him punching the red-head.

He should have kept his mouth shut.

"Draco," her voice called. He lifted his head from the pillow and looked at her. "You okay?" He could see that she had been crying again, her eyes red and puffy. He stood and made his way to her.

"I think the better question is, are you okay," he countered, putting a hand on her shoulder. She looked away.

"I should apologize for how he acted," she answered. "He had no right to speak to you or Harry like that." He tenderly combed a strand of hair out of her face.

"I blame the horcrux," he stated. "He had been wearing it all day. He would have never acted like that if he hadn't." A smile flashed across her face before disappearing again.

"I don't even know anymore, Draco," she whispered. "He almost never mentions Harry's parents. None of us do. I feel bad enough that I have my parents and he doesn't." Her eyes met his. "Now you..." He sighed and looked away.

"I know," he muttered.

"He had no right to bring them up," she soothed. "I'm kind of glad you punched him instead of me." Draco chuckled.

"You actually wanted to punch him," he asked. She nodded.

"I really don't have a good reason to punch him except that he was a complete arse," she replied. He chuckled again, then stared at the ground. He began to think of how lucky Ron was to still have his family. "What are thinking right now?"

"I'm thinking that Ron is lucky as hell and doesn't realize it," he responded. "I'm thinking of how I'll never get to hear my father say that he's proud of me." He closed his eyes as she touched his cheek. "I'm thinking no one will ever be as good a cook as my mother." She turned his face to hers, but he didn't open his eyes. He couldn't trust himself to say anything. He was already on the brink of another emotional meltdown.

Suddenly, her lips were against his.

"Hermione," he whispered against her mouth. She didn't answer, but instead deepend the kiss. Her tongue grazed his, and his hormones overtook him. He put one hand on the back her head and pulled her close. She tasted so good. He wanted- no needed- more. Her hands flew all over his body, touching him everywhere but where he was wanting to be touched. Her hand groped his groin...

And he pulled away.

He kept his eyes closed, fighting with his hormones. He was aroused by her fierceness, but he knew that Harry and Ron would kill him if he did what he was wanting to do. After a few moments, he opened his eyes to see Hermione's dejected expression.

"Hermione," he soothed. "Don't look like that. I understand what you were trying to do, but Harry and Ron would kill me if we went that far."

"They don't have to know," she whined softly.

"But they will," he began softly. "Harry's not as stupid as I thought he was, and Ron cares about you."

"Not as much as you're caring right now," she half-sobbed. He pulled her into a hug.

"We can't, Hermione," he murmured into her ear. "You're beautiful, smart, the brightest witch of our age. Surely you can understand." She clung to him and cried into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I really am." He could feel the emotions washing over him again. "Maybe one day, things will be different." He let the tears fall this time. His mother would have loved Hermione, aside from the fact that she was a Muggle-born. His father could learn to accept her blood-status. Draco stood there, holding her and crying, for what will never be.

"I wouldn't have minded a bit," Harry said enthusiatically, biting into a bit of cooked rabbit. "Hell, it probably would have gotten her mind off of Ron."

It was the next day, and Draco had confided in Harry about what happened the previous day. He was shocked to find that Harry supported the idea of Hermione being with him.

"It just doesn't feel right," Draco stated. "And it's not cause she's Muggle-born. I just feel like she deserves someone who can appreciate her and treat her right." He sneered. "Weasley definately is below her legue."

"What about you," Harry intoned. "You're from one of the oldest wizarding families in all of England." Draco sighed.

"After how I treated her when we were kids," he began, "I'm the last person she should be interested in."

"For fucks sake, Draco," Harry snapped. Draco jumped. "You have been right there for her since Ron left." Draco's shoulder's dropped.

"She's just trying to rebound," he whispered.

"Maybe it's for the better," Harry reassured. Draco stared at the ground.

"To be honest, I'm not looking for a relationship," he explained. "I just want to avenge my parents."

"Draco, that's suicide," Harry informed nervously. Draco nodded.

"If I die trying to avenge them, so be it," he muttered.

"No," Harry argued. "Hermione won't allow it. She's grown fond of you. And I've come to think of you as a friend." Draco's eyes met Harry's.

"Do you really mean that," he asked.

"Of course I bloody mean that," Harry replied. "You've been more than helpful to us. You know spells that we don't."

"Comes with being a Death Eater."

"Right. I don't care about the past. It's the past. What I care about now is making sure that no one else dies. We've lost enough people as it is." Draco nodded.

"I think I know why my parents were killed," he murmured. He could feel Harry's gaze boring through him. "They wouldn't give away where I was. They knew I would find out that they had been killed, so they gave themselves to protect me."

"Just like my parents did for me," Harry added. Draco nodded.

"The biggest difference: you were young enough to accept it," he continued. His chest began to ache, but this time, he held back the tears.

"Draco." He lifted his head to look at Harry. "Do your best to not get killed."

It had been a week since Ron left. Draco, Harry, and Hermione were sitting in the tent, silently listening to the radio. Draco was staring at Hermione. He could tell that she was close to breaking down emotionally. A song started up, and impulse took over. He stood and walked over to her. He held out his hand, a silent question awaiting an answer. She stared, then took his hand.

I'm here without you baby

But you're still on my lonely mind.

I think about you baby

And I dream about you all the time

He lead her to the middle of the tent and put his other hand on the middle of her back. He took the lead, dancing the way he had seen his parents dance before. She was hesitant, but his confidence began to rub off on her, and she was soon dancing just as confidently as he was.

I've heard this life is overrated

But I hope that it gets better as we go

He spun her around on the spot. For a few moments, it was just the two of them and the radio.

I'm here without you baby

But you're still with me in my dreams

And tonight, it's only you and me

He pulled her close, and felt the weight of her face against his shoulder. He rested his chin on her head.

"I never knew you could dance so well, Draco," she whispered as the song faded.

"Neither did I," Harry chimed in. Draco smiled as he sat in an empty chair and poured himself a cup of tea.

"Comes with the wealthy status of my name," he informed. "I was forced to take lessons as a child. Really didn't mind it once I got the hang of it."