Good afternoon guys! Happy Graduation Day too many of the youngsters out there! We were slammed at work all day, and let me tell ya… never been so happy to get off and come home. So here comes an exciting night of writing and hanging out with Christine. Also, the amount of research and HP I've been watching lately has been insane. Whoop whoop. Review, please. :D

Chapter 11: Time

Time is one's worst enemy, yet their best friend. It can create a melancholy feeling, or make you feel like you're on top of the world. Sometimes, you can ignore it, sometimes it drags on. In Draco Malfoy's case, time was dragging on like nails on chalkboard. It made you squirm, yet you couldn't run away from it. He tapped his foot on the floor to keep in time with the clock's ticks, yet again reminding him of time. Time… How long had he been with Granger? Four months. Four months, and his feelings towards her were strong. So strong that he had to shut them down, remind himself that Salazar would be ashamed of what he his true intentions.

He was a young man now. Since the age of fifteen, Draco had been finding himself romantically involved with women. All of them had been Slytherins, mostly because of his upbringing. His mind wandered to a faint memory of Pansy last year, sliding herself out of his bed, and staring at her bare back. In that moment, he had felt nothing for the girl, and he had accepted that when he found the right woman, she would be more than convenient. More than just allowing him to bed her whenever he wished.

He remembered how he felt when he first saw Hermione on the train to Hogwarts, nearly seven years ago. Her hair was still the unkempt mop it was now, her eyes still that beautiful hazel, and she had wit and charm. Draco thought that she belonged in Slytherin House with him. Merlin knew his disappointment when the Sorting Hat placed her with the two pricks she called best friends in Gryffindor. He found out soon after that she was Muggle-born, and decided that he could never look at her the same again. He remembered second year when he saw her in Borgin and Burkes at Lockhardt's signing. She was with her parents and the Weasel's family. When he arrived, she was explaining to the Weasley girl about Lockhardt's accomplishments. He was with his father, who must have seen him staring at her because he carefully reminded him that she was Muggle-born. His father's tone was cool: no son of his would ever degrade himself to the point of marrying a Mudblood. Third year, he had some classes with her. Care of Magical Creatures with that stupid oaf Hagrid. She was there when that stupid Hypogriff stomped on his arm. She had called him a right git then, but he ignored her. When he was with Blaise and Goyle, intent on watching the execution of that stupid bird, she was also there. Hermione ran up to him with the same fire in her eyes that he had seen so much of, that he loved to see, and pointed her wand right under his chin. For the first time in his life, he was actually intimidated by her because he knew there was nothing stopping her from jinxing him. It was then that she had turned and punched him, right in the nose, breaking it upon impact. He even bore a slight scar on the right of his nose in case she wanted to be reminded. But, when he had ran away sheepishly, he had never felt so alive.

And so came fourth year, and that dreaded tournament. He meagerly stood back and watched as Potter once again got all the glory. At the Quidditch World Cup, when the Death Eaters attacked, he remembered seeing Potter in the chaos, grabbing him by the arm, and yelling in his face to get Hermione as far away from there as possible. It was an action that had haunted and confused him ever since. He once again had classes with her: Defense Against the Dark Arts taught by who they all thought was Mad-Eye Moody. When Moody had cast the Cruciatus Curse on the spider, Draco watched as she cringed. That was the first time that he hadn't taken pride in watching her in pain. Draco remembered watching her intensely as she begged Moody to stop the curse, but he didn't, and remembered the tears in her eyes when he killed the spider. Later on, Moody turned him into a ferret. Luckily, Hermione didn't see that, but he was fairly certain that Potter and Weasley had told her all about it. He also couldn't get the image of her in that pink dress out of his mind… Merlin, she was beautiful.

Fifth year came and went as quick as the summers. The threat of Voldemort returning was more serious. Potter began the D.A. – Dumbledore's Army. What a stupid name. That was also the year that he became a Prefect, not really to any surprise of his peers or teachers. Hermione had also received that honor. Together, they had many duties, but always spat back and forth between one another. When Umbridge made him part of the Inquisitorial Squad, he did everything in his power to uncover the group, but took the most relish in seeing Hermione held in Umbridge's office. He remembered the look she gave him: of pure disgust. He hadn't realized his face had softened until Pansy asked him about it and demanded to know why he was feeling sorry for a Mudblood. He apologized and made love to Pansy that night. It was that night that his father was captured by the Ministry and sent to Azkaban.

The summer of his sixth year, he joined the Death Eaters to replace his father, an action which made him scowl. It was all because of his crazy Aunt and her nagging that he was branded to begin with, along with his own selfish reasons to get his father out of that horrible place. Voldemort gave him the mission to kill Dumbledore, and that's when this hellish nightmare began. Draco knew that Hermione saw that he was off, and remembered her screaming at him when he called her a Mudblood out of spite. The look in her eyes was something he could never forget: pain, anguish, anger. If she had any idea what he was feeling at that point, she wouldn't have blamed him for snapping. Hell, maybe she would've even done it to save her parents. Merlin only knew.

And now, he was here. Trapped in these four walls, with only a few windows to let him see the outside world. He didn't all hate it. In fact, being in this sanctuary had led him to conclusions that he wouldn't have been able to understand otherwise. But, now, he was pacing again, considering his feelings for his roommate. Merlin, she pissed him off. Yet, she intrigued him. He longed to brush her skin again, just to feel the softness. Draco sighed to himself and sat down on the couch. He pulled one of the books she had gotten him from the pile on the table, and stared at it for a long time.

That's when it came to him.

"Seamus, if I have to tell you to bugger off one more time…" whispered Hermione as she saw Seamus at Slughorn's door with Dean. She caught his eyes, and he motioned for her to come to him with his pointer finger. She rolled her eyes around to look at Neville who just shrugged. Quietly, Hermione arose from her chair, handed her book to Professor Slughorn, and slipped into the hallway. "What is it? Couldn't it have waited until after class?"

"No, this is too important," Seamus said and began walking. Hermione followed and Dean picked up the rear. "Luna's gone."

"What do you mean gone?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows narrowing.

"She's gone, as in, we don't know where she is," Dean replied.

"What? How could she have disappeared? Surely someone must have seen where she went or who she went with," Hermione reasoned. This was all just a major misunderstanding and Hermione was convinced of that.

"No one," Seamus shook his head.

"We haven't seen or heard from her in three days," Dean said.

"Have you told McGonagall?" Hermione demanded. The three were now rounding up the steps, and their voices were hushed. Only Hermione's was frantic.

"Yes, and McGonagall said it was her business where she went –"

"Did McGonagall seem at all worried?" asked Hermione, now settling down a bit.

"No, but –"

"If McGonagall's not worried, then you shouldn't be either," reasoned Hermione, her voice returning to its normal octaves.

"Hermione, something isn't right here," Dean said, stopping her before they reached the Great Hall. She could tell by the look on the boys' faces that they were genuinely concerned. "None of us are allowed to leave the castle except you and Smith. So, why does Luna get to come and go as she pleases?"

"Maybe she's helping the Order –"

"Oh yeah? How likely is that?" Seamus asked, giving her his no-nonsense face. "Luny Lovegood helping the order do what? Repel nargals?"

Dean stiffened a laugh and Hermione shot him a deadly glare. "No, she has done a lot for the Order and the D.A. If you two think she's so looney, then why do you care so much that she's gone?"

"We may not think she's sane, Hermione, but she's one of us," Dean supplied. "She would do the same if anything happened to us."

Hermione let out a low breath. "That's true. Just… keep me informed. I'm going to my dorm."

She let in a hurry, still trying to convince herself that Luna was out doing something to further their cause. What it was, she didn't know, and she didn't have too. But, it gave her a certain peace of mind that McGonagall wasn't worried, and it touched her that Dean and Seamus were. Well, obviously Dean more than Seamus but that was to be expected. As Hermione approached her dorm, she swore she saw a black streak peek around the corner closest to her, and she suddenly was under the impression that she was being watched. Quickly, she whispered the password to her door and snuck inside to see Draco spring to his feet when she walked in.

"What's got you so jumpy?" he demanded, watching as she placed a hand over her fast-beating heart.

"Oh, I just thought that I saw someone – you know, it doesn't matter," Hermione replied. She walked to her bedroom and Draco followed her meagerly. "What do you want?"

"Don't want me around, Granger?" Draco demanded. He noticed that she had forgot to close her bedroom door and he watched as she unbuttoned her white shirt, and pulled it off of her arms, tossing it to the ground. He saw the straps of her red bra, and noticed the creamy consistency of her skin. A twinge erupted in his stomach… if only he could touch her.

He could, if he wanted too. Just inch closer and closer until she was under his fingertips. His breath caught as she turned slightly, noticing that he was staring at her back.

"You're such a prick, get out!" Hermione yelled, reaching to grab for her wand on her bed.

"Embarrassed?" Draco asked and Hermione stopped. She still hadn't completely turned around, and he was staring at her back, memorizing how her curls fell down to her shoulders, and how the curve of her side morphed into hips.

Hermione's arms were now covering her chest, worried that if she turned around, something may happen that was spontaneous yet also beautiful. "No."

"Then why are you trying to hide?" he asked.

She turned to look at him over her freckled shoulder, her hazel eyes down at the floor. "I'm not comfortable."

"Not comfortable? Granger, you're being a hypocrite," Draco pointed out and leaned against her doorframe, hands in the pockets of the khakis she had bought him. "You're embarrassed and not comfortable. Those are basically the same thing."

"Don't tell me what I already know, Draco," Hermione said, still too unsure of herself to move. "Can you please just leave so I can change?"

"No," came Draco's curt reply. She knew that if she reached for her wand, he would still have a full of view of her. He had to stuck to the spot, and he knew it.

"This isn't fair," Hermione snapped angrily.

"You're right. It's actually pretty amusing," argued Draco, a grin on his face. He was almost sad that Hermione couldn't see it. "You know, Granger, if you stopped covering yourself, maybe you'd have a little sex appeal."

Hermione's face grew hot. "Shut up…"

"No, really," Draco drawled. "If you tamed that owl nest you call hair and started showing a little leg, maybe you'd loose your virginity."

Angrily, Hermione spun around without even realizing it. Draco smiled, his eyes falling on her chest, then down to her bosom, which was covered by a plain red bra, matching the straps. With an audible gasp, Hermione quickly covered her chest and searched for something to cover herself with. Draco looked down to the basket full of clothes beside her door and grabbed one of his shirts (a black one with a v neck that he particularly liked) and stretched out his hand to hand the shirt to her. Hermione snatched it from him and quickly pulled it over her head. It went down to almost her knees, and she quickly slipped off her skirt behind her closet door. Draco examined his fingernails and whistled as she dressed herself. When she came out, she was wearing black leggings. He decided black looked good on her and made a mental note of it.

"For your information, I am not a virgin," she spat at him as she walked up to his figure. She was only up to just below his chin, and he had realized a long time ago that she wasn't intimidating.

"Oh really?" Draco asked. There was a sharp feeling, like dagers, in his chest. "Did Weasley coax you into feeling sorry enough to shag him?"

"That is none of your business," she replied hotly. "Now move!"

Draco noticed that in her fury, she had left her wand on her bed. "No, I think I'm good."

"You can't just trap me in here!"

"I think I can."

"No, you can't! I can just make you move and you know how that ends up going –"

"If you shut up, maybe your mouth could be a redeeming quality –"

"Oh, we're going to start insults again? How mature of you!"

"I'm not the one who is throwing a fit."

"You're right, you're enjoying this way too much!"

"Damn right!"

"Just move, DRACO!"

Grinning to himself, he noticed that her eyes were on fire again. She reached up and slapped his chest, hard. Twice. Grimacing in now pain, he caught her hand in midair before she could smack him a third time. That just infuriated her more.

"Why don't you ever just stop?" Hermione demanded. "It's always something with you! You always have to do something to get under my skin –"

"Why wouldn't I if it's so easy?" he asked her. The feeling of her fingers wrapping around his hand mesmerized him for a moment. He looked down, she was indeed holding his hand, and he slowly lowered it down, a feeling of pure bliss racing through him.

Hermione's eyes lost their fire as she titled her head, studying him with her hazels intent. Draco matched her intense stare, finding himself lost in her eyes. For the first time in a long time, he felt at ease. Her fingers began to absently stroke over his thumb, and he steadied himself, knowing what was going to happen before it did.

Did he second guess himself? Not at that moment. The fingers from his left hand came up to her face, brushing the loose strands of curls out of her eyes, mirroring his action from yesterday. Hermione didn't move, just studied his action, and a relaxed small smile came across her face. With gentleness, he ran his fingers along the side of her cheek, breathing in her intoxicating smell of orchids and coconuts, and titled her chin up to look him in his stormy grey eyes. The way that she looked at him made him feel like he was the most important man in the entire universe, and that was something that a woman hadn't ever made him feel. But, damn… The thoughts of remorse of what he was about to do began to linger in his mind, coming at him little by little as he stared down at the witch. She's a Mudblood. What would father say about this? This is wrong and you know it. Stop now, while you still have an ounce of self-respect left! Remember your place! But, as Draco opened his lips, about to yell and carry on, maybe even throw a few things, Hermione hushed him.

"Don't say anything."

It was a command that Draco could follow. His mouth snapped shut, but was soon overtaken by a force that he couldn't control. A soft pressure was on his lips, gentle and warm. Her hand was still wrapped around his, stroking his thumb. From his many kisses with women, he knew that this was the type that was experimental. If it worked, you continued. If it didn't, then it was back to square one. Draco titled his head to capture her lips, slowly suckling on her bottom lip, earning a little sigh out of her that made the twinge in his stomach appear again. His free hand went back to tip her head to the side, where he could easily envelope her. Hermione's other hand was now gently on the nape of his neck, and he realized she was on her tip-toes. It was intoxicating: this moment, her smell, the way she kissed him. Every nerve in Draco's body was begging for release… But, he shut it down.

Remember your place.

Draco pulled away quickly, letting realization fall over him like a cold blanket. "Fuck, no." He backed away from her, shaking his head ever so slightly.

"Draco, don't," Hermione reached out to him, but he continued stepping backwards, shaking his head more noticeably now.

"No, this isn't supposed to happen. Do you know how royally fucked up this is?" he demanded accusingly, like it was her fault that he had feelings for her, that he had just kissed her.

Hermione was shaking now, disturbed by what had been one of the most real moments in her entire life. "I don't –"

"Do you have any idea what you're fucking doing to me?" Draco asked her, now in the Common Room. A wild look was in his grey eyes, mixed with sadness and desperation.

"Draco –"

"Just stop!" he roared, kicking over her chair and grasping his head in his hands. "I can't do this! I don't do this! I don't! You don't understand!"

"Please, just stop –"

"NO! Get away from me!"

Hermione hadn't realized that she was in the Common Room now, somehow desperate to comfort the grieving man on her floor. Draco was only a few feet away but it felt like miles. He was shaking, and she couldn't see his eyes. That's what scared her the most. He looked broken, and in utter despair.

"Draco, please, listen to me –" Hermione was on her knees now, just inches away from his shaking form. She bravely extended a hand and laid it on his shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" cried Draco, batting her hand away from his skin. He didn't need her touch, her soothing gestures. He needed to be reminded of what she was: filthy, disgusting, Mudblood. But, the way that she looked at him now, so caring and concerned, even while he was down on the floor shaking with distress, made him realize for the umpteenth time that she definitely was not those things.

"Draco," she said softly, and he was beginning to calm himself from hearing his name roll off of her tongue. "Draco, please, listen to me."

"That was a mistake, I shouldn't have…" he trailed off, his head still in his hands, shaking back and forth slowly.

"Draco, you've changed," Hermione said. Maybe it was more wishful thinking on her part, after taking into account that making Draco more human was her number one priority, but she was seeing subtle changes in his behavior: just like tonight.

"I haven't changed," he snapped. "This whole situation is fucking with my head."

"No," Hermione said sternly and he looked up at her with bloodshot eyes. "No, you have. You stopped calling me a … Mudblood." Draco chewed on his bottom lip and didn't reply. "You've stopped insulting me."

"Leave me alone, Granger," he warned her, sounding half-heartened instead of the threatening tone he meant to produce.

"Draco, I know you wanted to kiss me," Hermione said gently. "Why?"

"I'm a blood-traitor now, it doesn't even fucking matter –"

"I wanted to kiss you," Hermione told him quickly, cutting him enough so he would listen to her and not go on to pity-party himself. "For a long time. Just relax, Draco."

"I can't relax," he murmured. "What do you want from me? To coat everything in rainbows and unicorns like a fucking Hufflepuff and just let it be?"

"I want you to be honest with me," Hermione sat on her bum facing him now. Draco merely looked up at her and she felt a wisp of hope. "What you and I shared –"

"We shared nothing," he told her cooly. "That was just a result of how this place is fucking with me, making me lose my morals and shit."

"Draco," she said softly, as though she could see right through him and Merlin knew she could. "I know you aren't repulsed by me."

"Shut up, Granger," he muttered. "Don't act like you know—"

"I don't, Draco," Hermione said and took his hands that were now in his lap. He looked down at them and then at her, matching her hazel like he did just minutes before. "I don't, and I couldn't even begin too, and you know that."

"I betrayed my family!" Draco groaned, rolling his eyes to the floor then the ceiling, then the floor again.

"Maybe, Draco, it's for the better," Hermione said softly, reaching out to stroke his cheek. He looked at her with resilience, and for a moment, she thought he would argue with her. But, he didn't. Instead, he let his shoulders sag and let himself be touched by her; after all, her touch melted away all of the fear, anger, and hatred that he had for his situation.

His grey eyes teased her dauntlessness towards him, and she found herself pushing herself closer to him until she was between his legs and her hands were on his chest. They were painfully close again, and all Draco wanted to do was turn away but he couldn't. Hermione placed her head against his chest, right below his left shoulder, and uttered a small strangled sigh. For a moment, Draco was almost certain that she was going to cry (Merlin knew that Draco would either become infuriated or cry along with her if she did), but Hermione suppressed her anxiety and tears and just let herself wrap around Draco's unresponsive torso.

After a few minutes, Draco's muscles began to ache so he pushed himself and Hermione against the nearest couch. With her wrapped up around him like this, it made his heart ache and his head throb. For the past how many days, all he wanted was this, and now that he had it, a part of him was calming. If it wasn't for the common sense that crept up on him every time he was about to do something his heart wanted, Draco would've already been in bed with her, hoping to relinquish the fire that burned for her in his soul.

Hermione's breaths became light and steady after awhile, leaving Draco to know she had fallen asleep. It also left him feeling guilty for his outburst towards her, and wanted to do something for her to forgive him. When he was sure she was out, he picked her up with her legs dangling over his right arm, and his left arm wrapped around her back, and carried her to her bedroom, Crookshanks right behind him on his heels. He laid her down on her bed, carefully to make sure she didn't awaken, and pulled her covers up to her chin. Crookshanks padded around a spot next to her thigh before settling down and nuzzling his owner. Draco, in all his high and might, planted a kiss on her forehead before slipping out of her room and shutting the door behind him, knowing fully well that he wouldn't be able to go back inside.

Draco knew she wouldn't be asleep for very long, as it was early evening now and the rays of sun were still gawking at them for a little while longer. Sighing, he brought himself into the kitchen, hungry again. Normally, Hermione would bring him something for dinner, but tonight, she obviously wasn't going anywhere. With a sigh, he began to rummage in the cupboards. Tonight, he would make her something to eat, maybe to show appreciation or just that he could learn to cook without magic or that he was still above her in some aspects. Regardless of the reason, Draco began to take down ingredients and tried his hand at something that he never did before… Out of respect for a Muggle-born.