AN: Long time no update! I'm so utterly sorry about the time it took, but I've been really busy this last week, and I was in a place where internet was not easily accessible. At any rate, here it is. And I hope you enjoy it.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! It really means so much to me. :) I forgot to note that we went over 100 reviews. Thank you to every single person who reviewed.

Oh! And this story just passed 10,000 hits. Crazy! I would have never thought it. Thank you all so much!


Stand and Watch It Burn

XVIII. How I Know You

Hermione gazed out the window, watching as the people in Diagon Alley bustled by. She was nursing a cup of tea, swirling the contents of her cup too and fro. The tea was still a little too hot for her to drink without burning her tongue. Hermione stared down at the brown liquid, sitting and steaming in the china cup.

She was waiting for Draco. Ever since their rendezvous in the cabin, they'd been meeting with each other every single day. It was a different place every day – a low key, unknown place where they wouldn't be seen by people they knew. Draco had been reluctant to meet with her in public, but she'd manage to sway him. It wasn't too hard, really. She knew he wanted to see her as desperately as she wanted to see him, so all she had to do was stay firm on keeping all their meetings in public places.

Hermione wasn't sure why she wanted so much to keep the meetings public, but she had a few theories. For one thing, it kept their meetings innocent… physically, at the very least. Being in public prevented Hermione from doing anything rash, no matter how badly she wanted to. And maybe it didn't seem so… horrible if they didn't hide away. Like what they were doing wasn't as wrong as it actually was.

Still, Hermione had taken care to choose places where she was sure they would not be seen by anyone who would recognize them or pay any attention to them. It was better that way. Safer.

Feeling impatient now, Hermione stared determinedly at the clock tower near the store across the street, willing it to go faster. She was starting to feel anxious. She had no idea why, as he wasn't late – not yet, anyway. It wasn't quite eleven. She knew he wouldn't be late. He never was. He was very exact, very punctual. For some reason though, she had arrived fifteen minutes earlier the agreed meeting time. She did this every time, and she had no idea why. Maybe it was because she was eager to see him. Or maybe it was because she had nothing better to do. Maybe it was a combination of both.

There was a dull buzz of conversation that filled the room. Hermione's eyes swept over the little tea shop. It had a handful of eclectic patrons. The shop was about half full, though for some reason, Hermione felt like it was completely deserted.

Bong. Bong. The clock had just struck eleven. The door swung open.

"Hello, sir, how many in your party?" Hermione heard the hostess ask.

"I'm looking for someone." His voice. The sound of it calmed her a bit.

"All right, well go on right ahead."

Hermione spun around and sure enough, there was Draco, walking towards her. He had an amused smile on his face.

"Hey," he said softly, leaning in to kiss her chastely on the cheek. Hermione felt her heart leap.

"Hi," she replied, smiling up at him.

Draco sat down in the seat across from her. "Nice place," he drawled, gesturing at the dark purple walls with lime green trim.

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. "Thought we could try something new."

"New indeed," Draco said, examining their surroundings. "Merlin, who thought those Flaming Tortatuga plants were a good idea? Hideous and dangerous to boot."

Hermione tried to roll her eyes, but she could hardly suppress her amusement. The place was hideous. That was why she chose it. She knew no one in their right mind would come here, meaning the likelihood of seeing someone they knew was considerably lower. "So," she said conversationally, "how's everything been?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You asked me that yesterday."

"What? Things change from day to day."

"Yeah, for normal people."

"Well, what have you done today?"

Draco pulled at his chin thoughtfully. "Got up early and took a nice leisurely walk. Read a bit by the pond. Saw some ducks. Met up with Potter for parole. Always exciting." He pondered a little longer. "Well, that seems to be all of it."

"How are your meetings with Harry?"

"They're not really meetings… they're more like cross examinations. He asks me the same questions every time and I give him the same answers every time. 'No,' 'yes,' and 'of course'. It's a tad redundant and a waste of time. Have I told you? Harry's late almost every single time. The silly git makes me wait around at least five minutes before he shows up. Today, I had to wait for ten minutes before he stumbled in apologising."

Hermione smiled. "Yes, that is like him."

Draco shook his head. "I would have thought that he'd straighten that out these last few years, but he still has that bloody habit." He shrugged. "Oh well, my three months parole is nearly over and I won't have to do it anymore and I won't have bother with him again."

For some reason, Hermione thought he sounded slightly bitter. "Does that upset you?"

"No," Draco said. "Why would it?"

"It sounded like it bothered you."

Draco was silent for a while. "It's nothing," he finally said. "It's just life, I suppose. But I've accepted it and moved on. Water under the bridge."

Hermione was a little confused. Water under the bridge? What was Draco talking about? "What do you mean 'water under the bridge'?"

"Never mind," Draco said quickly. "How are you? What amusing stories about the silly things your son has done in the last twenty-four hours can you share with me?"

Hermione grinned, thinking of her little son. "He was eating mashed bananas last night…"

"Thrilling," Draco drawled. "Now tell me, Granger, did he eat said bananas with a spoon? Or – could it be? – a fork?"

She tried to glower at him but she couldn't help smiling. "Let me finish!"

"All right," he said, chuckling. "Go on."

"Well, now I don't really feel like telling you." Hermione crossed her arms in defiance.

Draco smirked at her attempt at insolence. "Really, now?" he asked with amusement.

"Really." Hermione tried to keep a straight face. Finally she let out a giggle. "Oh, okay, fine. I can't stay angry at you."

"I thought not," he said, smiling smugly.

"Shut up."

"Ooooh," Draco said, grinning. "Real mature, Hermione." Before she could retort a defense, Draco continued, "So, what was Aiden doing with his mashed bananas?"

Hermione glared at him briefly before speaking. "Well, last night he decided to wear them instead of finishing them. Halfway through his meal, he suddenly took the bowl and put it on his head. And then the bananas were all in his hair and he looks at me wide-eyed and innocent and says 'bah bah bubo?'" Hermione's smile was wide across her face as she gushed about her son. "Then he summoned his rubber ducky! He wanted me to give him a bath after he put all those bananas on his head!"

Draco smiled thinly. "Cute."

Hermione noticed that Draco seemed a little uneasy. "Are you all right?"

"What? Of course, I'm fine," Draco said.

But she knew he was lying. Although he was very adept at hiding it, she could sense his agitation. At what, though? Hermione wondered. After brief speculation, she knew what it was. She shook her head in disbelief.

"Draco," she said softly, "why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Ask about Aiden. You do it every day. Why?"

Draco stared at her as if she had just asked the stupidest question possible. "Why wouldn't I ask about him?"

"It makes you unhappy.

His lips were pressed firmly together. "What makes you say that?" he asked.

"Draco, why do you do it? It's only hurting you, I can tell…"

'He's your son, Hermione," Draco said grimly. "You love him, don't you? You care about him. He makes you happy, and no matter how much I wish…"

"Oh, Draco." Hermione reached over and took his hand. "Draco."

He didn't look at her.

Hermione bit her lip. She knew he didn't want to talk about it. Reluctantly, she changed the subject. "What have you been reading?"

x x x

Draco felt light and – dare he say it? – almost giddy as he climbed the stairs to his room. It was nearly like the last three years hadn't happened, like he'd never been convicted and thrown into Azkaban. The sky seemed so brilliant and vibrant, he'd almost swear that he'd never seen such a blue sky before.

It was like falling in love all over again. In a way, Draco was. Though he knew he had never stopped loving her, he had completely given up hope. He had thought there could be no way… but against all odds, there she was. And though the last three years had changed her, it was certainly in the most agreeable manner. If it were anyhow possible, Draco loved her more now than he ever did. Every day, he loved her more.

Still, there was a dark cloud on the horizon – the dark cloud of reality. Hermione was someone else's wife and the mother of someone's child. No matter how much he loved her and how much she might love him, nothing could change that. And there was always the distinct possibility that she…

"Draco?"

His mother's voice echoed through the halls. Draco checked the time. Indeed, it was time for their afternoon tea.

"Draco, dear, where are you?"

"Here, Mother," he called out from the top of the stairs.

"Oh, good," Narcissa said, smiling up at her son. "Where would you like to take tea, today, Draco?"

He thought briefly. "The garden," he said.

His mother nodded. "I'll tell Hetty. I will meet you there." She walked under the stairs and out to the garden. Draco heard as the sound of her heels hitting against the marble floors resonated in the main room, fading as she walked away.

- - -

It is a beautiful day, Narcissa thought as she poured tea into the cups. She was in the garden, as her son had suggested. The sky was clear, and a gentle breeze kept it from being hot. The colourful flowers Draco had so meticulously planted along the pathway swayed gently in the wind, creating a lovely illusion of rolling waves.

As much as she criticized Draco for all the time he spent outdoors gardening, she did enjoy being out here. Not that she approved of actually gardening. No, no, that was certainly a servant's work. Narcissa did wish Draco would leave that to the house elves, but he insisted…

In the three years she had lived alone in Malfoy Manor, Narcissa could feel a sense of peace only in the beautiful stillness of the garden. Narcissa had habitually frequented the garden Draco had most often worked. When she was there, she felt a strange closeness with her son who had been so far away. She also strangely felt rejuvenated, like she was coming to life again… perhaps that was what Draco loved so much about it.

She'd never tell him though. Narcissa didn't want Draco to think she approved of wasting time on such frivolous activities.

Though, now that she thought about it, Draco had not been spending as much time in his garden the last few days. Before, he had sulked in it for hours upon hours doing Merlin knew what. But now, he'd disappear for several hours a day. What could he be doing?

"Mother. Sorry to have kept you waiting."

Narcissa saw Draco walking toward her. He had changed from the black robes she'd seen him wearing earlier to a set of handsome emerald green robes. He was walking with confidence in every step, and he seemed… different somehow.

Draco sat down in one of the wiry chair at the glass table. He smiled at her. "Thank you," he said, taking a cup. He was smiling.

As much as it warmed her heart to see her only son happy, it was a curious thing to see him openly so. Narcissa looked at him, taking care to mask her curiosity.

"Hello, Draco," she said smoothly. "How has your day been?"

"Rather nice," Draco replied. He refilled his mother's half-empty cup. "And yours, mother? What did you do today? Shopping in Diagon Alley?"

"I had lunch with my sister."

"Sounds lovely."

Narcissa nodded. "What did you do today?"

"The usual," Draco replied glibly. "Gardening. Reading."

"Have you gone out today, dear?"

"Go out?" Draco gave her a strange, unreadable look. "Where would I go, Mother? Why do you ask?"

Narcissa looked closely at her son, trying to examine him. There was most certainly something different about him… but she couldn't say what exactly. Although his face was now in a very neutral expression, there was a certain lightness about his eyes. It was almost like they were glowing. But why?

"I don't know," she sighed. "No reason."

"What are your plans for tomorrow?" Draco asked, redirecting the conversation.

She'd find out eventually, she thought. But for now, Narcissa was content to be ignorant. She smiled at her son and let the conversation wander off track. After all, it was such a beautiful day. There was no point in pressing him about something that he clearly did not want to share.

x x x

"… and jumped right in front of me! Merlin, years of training and the sodding wanker still shocked the hell out of me! I nearly dropped my bloody wand! Good thing Harry decided last minute to go with me, or I might not have made it back in one piece."

"So I owe Harry a thank you note for returning my husband whole, then?" Hermione asked lightly as she washed the dishes.

Ron grinned and wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist from behind. "Seems like it," he said cheekily.

"Might I remind you that if you just so happened to die, you'd leave behind a widow and a fatherless infant?"

"Now, 'Mione, you know I wouldn't be that reckless."

"As long as you remember," Hermione said almost nastily.

"Geez, Hermione, why are you so wound up?" Ron stared at the back of his wife's head with confusion. "Is Aiden giving you trouble or something?"

Hermione sighed heavily and set down the pot she was holding with a loud clunk. "No," she said shortly.

"You really should do this using magic, love. It makes things so much easier." He looked over her shoulder at the pile of dishes.

"It'd be even easier if you'd help around the house every once in a while," she snapped.

Ron was at a complete loss for an explanation for Hermione's erratic behaviour. "Are you okay, Hermione? Really, you seem upset for some reason. Was it something I did? Look, I promise, from now on, I'll be more careful…"

"No, Ron," Hermione said tiredly. "It's just been a long week, okay?"

"Okay," Ron replied uncertainly. He gently placed a kiss on Hermione's neck. "You know," he said in a low voice, "Aiden's sleeping."

"I know. It took me nearly an hour to get him to sleep."

Ron moved up her neck and placed another kiss on her jaw. "We could…" He felt Hermione tense in his arms. "Hermione?"

"What?" she asked edgily.

"Is something…?"

"I… I'm just so tired, Ron. I can't…"

"It won't be long, I promise. Just once?"

"No, Ron." She sounded agitated.

"Please, we haven't for nearly over a month…" Ron started to nuzzle her neck.

"Ron, I'm tired all right?" She jerked away from his head.

Ron pulled away from her. "Fine." He turned on his heel and stomped all the way upstairs to their bedroom, making sure to slam the door behind him. In the other corner of the room, there was a wail. The loud noise had wakened Aiden.

x x x

Hermione stared at the wall in front of her. Time was moving rather slowly today.

Last night's argument with Ron had left a sour taste in her mouth. They had gone to bed angry with each other, something they had promised early on in their marriage not to do. Breakfast had been an awkward, silent affair. Ron had wordlessly eaten everything on his plate and left for work without so much as bidding her or Aiden farewell.

She couldn't blame him for being angry with her. And she felt so guilty. While she was with Draco, she felt deliriously happy and content and couldn't dream of being anywhere else. But the moment they parted, it was if reality hit Hermione over the head with a sledgehammer. The implications of exactly what she was doing filled her head and taunted her. Although she and Draco had hardly touched each other and all their conversations had been completely innocent, Hermione knew their feelings toward each other were not. Hermione was in love with a man that was not her husband, and the guilt was starting to eat away at her.

But what could she do? Hermione didn't know. She couldn't bring herself to leave Ron, nor could she bring herself to end it with Draco. But she simply couldn't continue this. Every night, she got less and less sleep thinking about it. The burden grew heavier every day she let it persist. Eventually, something had to give…

Hermione had tried to convince herself it was a simple matter of deciding who it was she truly loved. But it was so much more complex than that… There was Aiden to think about. Her friends – the people she'd known for more than half her life. Ron. Draco. There were so many people tangled in this web…

And the truth was Hermione didn't know who she loved. Sometimes she was convinced it was Ron. Other times, she knew it was Draco. Was it possible to love two people at the same time…?

But Ron had lied to her. Lied. He had purposefully kept her history with Draco a secret from her, presumably to help himself.

An odd thought struck Hermione. What if Ron had framed Draco to have him thrown in Azkaban? What if Ron had done it so Draco and I would be forced to be separated?

She felt absolutely cold.

No. Ron couldn't be that heartless. He was warm, caring, funny and…

But he had lied. He was a liar. How could she trust him?

"Hello," a voice from behind her said.

Hermione turned around. Draco was standing behind her, looking down at her. A soft smile tinged his lips as he gazed at her. She felt her body warm again in his presence.

"Hi," she said softly. He leaned in and, as he always did, kissed her gently on the cheek.

Draco sat down across from her. He frowned when he saw the distressed look on her face. "Hermione, are you all right? You look rather distraught. Is something troubling you?"

Hermione took a deep breath and then smiled at him. "Something was," she said, "but not anymore."

He looked into her eyes, considering for a moment. Then Draco nodded. "How's Aiden?" he asked.

- - -

After spending time with Draco, she felt considerably brighter. Just looking at him made her feel better. Being with him made her feel safe.

It seemed though, that each meeting became shorter and shorter though they both stayed longer than they had the meeting before. Hermione always dreaded ending their time together, but she knew she could not stay too long.

"I should go," Hermione said reluctantly when it was nearly one o'clock.

Draco nodded slowly. "As should I."

Neither moved.

"Shall I see you tomorrow?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Tomorrow's Saturday."

"Ah," Draco said, sounding slightly disappointed.

Hermione was glad he understood without needing her explanation. Both of them had avoided speaking Ron's name, and Hermione didn't feel much like being the first one to bring him up.

"Monday, though," Hermione said.

"Where, then?"

"I know a small place…"

Draco chuckled. "It never ceases to amaze me the number of places you know. How did you find this place? Though I must say, I like it better than that purple and green place. At least the colour of the wall doesn't burn my eyes."

"I came here once with a couple of girlfriends for tea," Hermione said. "Are you mocking it? This is one of my favourite places!"

"Oh, heavens no," Draco said dryly. "Why ever would I mock a place that uses lace doilies and frilly pillows for decoration?"

Hermione turned up her nose. "Fine, then," she said. "You hate it."

"Never," Draco said. He reached across and took her hand. "I'd never hate a place that has you in it."

She felt her cheeks tinge pink with pleasure. But she couldn't let this opportunity slide. "You have a fine way of showing it," Hermione said, crossing her arms.

Draco merely smirked at her. "Oh come now, you're not truly upset. I thought you couldn't stay mad at me."

"Not when you insult one of my favourite places for tea."

Draco looked genuinely concerned now. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I never thought… Look, I didn't mean…"

Hermione couldn't hold it in any longer. She burst out into giggles. Draco stared at her.

"I'm sorry –" giggle " – the look –" giggle " - on your face was just – " giggle " - priceless…"

Draco's facial expression was now a cross between annoyance and amusement. "You were joking?"

"Of course I was! Why would I like a place with little pink hearts on the teapots? I hate it here! I only came because Ginny dragged me here once."

His face had relaxed, and he was grinning now. "You are mad, woman."

"Yes, but I'm your mad woman," Hermione replied.

Draco seemed to sober at this. He reached across the table and tenderly caressed Hermione's face. "If only you were," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Draco, I –"

"Don't," he said brokenly. "Don't say anything. Because if you do, it might all fall apart."

Hermione nodded. She placed her hand on top of his.

After a while, Draco removed his hand. "We should go."

They both got up and walked to the front door of the small restaurant. Draco, the ever perfect gentleman, opened the door for Hermione, bowing grandly and courteously as he did. Hermione chortled softly as she stepped through the door.

Draco went through after her and took her hand. She turned when he pulled her back.

"Not here," she whispered urgently.

"I shall miss you," he said, ignoring her.

Hermione sighed. "And I you," she finally replied.

He pulled her even more closely to him. "Monday is a long time away."

"I know."

"Will you think of me?" Draco's eyes were penetrating hers. She felt intoxicated.

"Maybe," she said, hoping she sounded coy.

Draco wrapped his arm around her waist. "Then maybe I need to give you something to remember me by." He leaned down and captured her lips with his. She let him draw her in even further, deepening the kiss. It was their first since the one in the cabin. Kissing him was bliss – but more than that. It was like coming up for air. Hermione threw her arms around his neck, not wanting it to end, not wanting to ever let go. He was her lifesaver in an endless ocean.

But they had to part. Draco gently pushed her away. "I must go," he said softly. He gave her one last lingering kiss on her temple. "Until Monday."

Hermione watched as his black robes flowed freely behind him. He was walking away and disappearing quickly. When Hermione could no longer see him, she decided it was time for her to go. She started walking, still looking behind her, watching the empty space where Draco once stood. Abruptly, her path was interrupted by an unexpected, foreign object – another person.

"Oh, excuse me," she said quickly. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

"I'm sure."

The voice was a familiar one. Hermione felt her throat tighten and her heart begin to race. Her stomach was filled with dread as she slowly turned around, afraid of what – or rather, whom - she'd see.

Slowly she lifted her head and opened her eyes. Standing in front of her was Harry Potter.

AN: Dun dun dun!

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