AN: Yay! The next chapter is here! Well, I think I'm rounding the track and reaching the last fourth of this story. Whew. It's been a journey. This chapter took a little bit longer than I thought because there were parts (namely the beginning and the second to last part) that took longer. One of the following scenes had been firmly planted in my mind since I began writing this, so it was a bit of a pleasure to finally be able to get it out!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. It's great to know you're all still following this story, in spite of my lack of updates. You all deserve virtual hugs. :) And another thing - for those of you who have read Avici this story will stay generally faithful to it, but not completely. I will not elaborate on that as I don't want to spoil it for anyone who hasn't read Avici, but given how this story has developed, there are things that will be inconsistent between the two stories.

That said, thank you to everyone for your thoughts and reviews. And I hope you enjoy this next installment.

Stand and Watch it Burn

XXI. The Last Night of the World

The next few days passed by relatively uneventfully and peacefully, even. Hermione savoured every moment. She slept well now – better than she had in the last few weeks. Waking every morning – next to a man who made her feel safe and perfect – was glorious. The happy life she thought she had before paled in comparison to this, she believed.

Every morning was roughly the same. Hermione would wake up early, as she was accustomed to, to look after Aiden. Having finished that, she would return to her room to find Draco already out of bed, preparing for the day. After changing out of her pyjamas and other menial grooming details, she, along with Aiden, would then head downstairs to the family dining room – a smaller version of the formal dining room but no less grandiose – where Draco would already be waiting for her, sitting at the table drinking tea and perusing The Daily Prophet. Breakfast was an understated but homey affair, which when finished, Draco, after a fleeting kiss on her cheek, would leave to tend to the many affairs related to the Malfoy estate.

Hermione spent most of her free time wandering the gardens with Aiden and perusing the library, waiting for Draco to return. Malfoy Manor's library was huge, rivaling even Hogwarts' collection. Hermione had gaped in awe when Draco first showed her the room, much to his amusement. (She had reacted the exact same way first time, he'd said.) Now that she did not have to tend to house duties (the elves took care of that which she protested until Draco flatly asked her if she thought she could manage a 40-room building herself) Hermione had plenty of time to read and write.

Hermione also spent most of her time avoiding Narcissa Malfoy. Not that she had to try too hard, as she was sure Narcissa was doing the same. Although their initial confrontation had been rather explosive, their subsequent meetings had been more subdued, though Narcissa did not bother to hide her obvious distaste for Hermione. Dinners became awkward, and even passing each other in the halls were uncomfortable. But such occurrences were few and far in between. For the most part, Narcissa seemed to do her best to pretend that Hermione was not there.

Still, it was a pleasant sort of living, if a bit too peaceful and a little boring. In spite of it all, every day seemed wonderful now.

Draco returned home most days sometime in the afternoon, and today was no different. Hermione had been reading in the library, curled up in one of the many green squishy armchairs scattered across the library.

He smiled when he finally found her. "Hiding from me?"

"You could say that," Hermione teased, not even bothering to look up from her book.

"Maybe I should just set up a bed here, instead of in your room?" he asked, leaning down and draping his arms around her.

"Ha ha." Hermione slammed the book shut. "You're so clever, Malfoy."

"Tell me something I don't know, Granger." Hermione couldn't see him, but she could tell from the tone in his voice that he was smirking. Before she could snap back at him though, he had taken her hand and lifted her up out of her seat. "Come. It is time for tea."

Tea with Draco was always a pleasant thing. They would have tea in either the sun room or the garden, depending on the weather and Hermione's mood.

Conversation was usually light, ranging from topics such as things Aiden did that day to what Draco's lawyers wore. Heavier, more complicated topics were usually reserved for dinner, or after dessert. Today, though, Hermione noted that Draco seemed less conversational, more reserved than usual. The two sat in the garden and drank their tea in general silence.

"Are you happy?" Draco suddenly asked her.

"What?" Hermione asked with a bit of a start.

"Are you happy?" Draco repeated, though this time it sounded more like a statement than a question.

"Yes, of course," Hermione replied. She was confused. Draco seemed very perplexed by something, but she could not say what.

Draco drummed his fingers on the table, gazing out at the cheerful blossoms before looking back at Hermione. "I just want you to be happy."

"I am," Hermione said wholeheartedly.

He was quiet for a long while. Hermione wondered if she should speak, but before she could think of any words to break the silence, Draco spoke. "I don't know how long we can be like this."

"Like what?" Hermione sat up straight. "What are you going on about, Draco? Is something wrong?" She bit her lip. "You've been acting oddly today." Hermione reached across and placed her hand on his. "Draco, look at me. What's wrong?"

Draco looked at her, his gaze steady. "It's nothing," he said. A restrained smile spread slowly across his face, but not quite reaching his eyes which remained a cool, steely grey. "What were you reading?"

He's not telling me something. Hermione hesitated. Perhaps they were just abandonment fears again.But what if it's something else?

Hermione returned Draco's composed smile. "Immortality: A Study; it's a book about vampires…"

- - -

Draco listened half-heartedly as Hermione spoke animatedly about the origin and history of vampires. She knows, he thought. The look in her eyes. She knows.

Of course she did. She always knew better than he did.

But she doesn't know what. Draco lifted his cup but did not drink. She knows it's something but she hasn't any idea what. Like tomorrow…Draco grimaced, just thinking about it. He was not looking forward to the next day at all.

"Draco? Are you listening to me?" Hermione asked, slightly exasperated.

He shouldn't hide things from her, he knew. But right at this moment, when everything was so perfect – the sun in her hair, the sparkle in her eyes, the glow of her soft skin, the adoration in her gaze – Draco couldn't be convinced that this wasn't the right thing to do. It's not right, a small voice in the back of his head said.

But look at her, another voice argued. Look at her. So beautiful, and so in love – with you. Imagine losing it all over again. Just try and imagine the pain you'd feel all over again.

"Of course I am." Draco heard himself say.

Hermione eyed him suspiciously. "All right," she finally said, giving him a small smile.

Don't tell.

x x x

In a place that won't let us feel
In a life where nothing seems real
I have found you
I have found you

x x x

"Harry, your next appointment is here."

"Send him in, Susan." Harry tapped his desk as he checked the clock. On time, as usual. He ran his hand through his hair anxiously. He had been anticipating this next meeting for the last few days and now that it was about to come to realization, he wasn't sure to expect. Not that he had been sure what to expect before, but as the final seconds before the meeting wound down, Harry found himself at loss for words.

He had, in the previous few days, come up with many things to say. He had devised many tactics, stratagems, considered a variety of questions to ask.

And at this moment, all that flew out of his head, which now felt strangely blank.

Click. The doorknob turned, revealing the person he had no desire to see.

The two stared at each other.

"You're here. On time."

"Sit down, Malfoy," Harry said, ignoring Malfoy's remark.

Wordlessly, Malfoy complied, sitting at one of the blue cushy chairs.

Harry set his gaze on the man sitting in front of him, a mixture of feelings swirling inside of him. Old habits were hard to kill, and as Harry found now, so were old feelings. The hate once so familiar to him was swelling up inside again. Malfoy sat in front of him, perfectly poised and still, waiting for Harry to speak. For some reason, Malfoy's composure elevated Harry's loathing… how could Malfoy sit so still when everything he had ever done had turned Ron and Harry's worlds completely upside down? Still, hate wasn't the only thing Harry was feeling. Ambivalence, he recognized. Trying his best to choke it down, Harry focused all his energy on the anger that was much more familiar and comforting.

"So," Harry said curtly. "No Dark Arts."

"No."

"Been keeping in check?"

"Of course."

A stifling silence filled the room.

Finally, Harry could not help himself anymore. "Hermione," he blurted out.

Malfoy immediately straightened up and looked defensive. "Potter –"

"How is she?" Harry cut in.

Malfoy looked genuinely surprised. That was clearly not what he had expected Harry to say. "She's – " he cleared his throat. "She's very well. Both she and Aiden."

Harry nodded solemnly.

"All right," he finally said. "Let me just check your wand and you'll be on your way."

- - -

Harry held the door open. "All right, Malfoy. I'll see you next week, then."

Malfoy nodded briskly. He hadn't walked two steps out the door when a blur from the left knocked him over.

"YOU BASTARD! YOU BLOODY BASTARD!"

"RON!" Harry yelled, frantically trying to pull his best friend off Malfoy who was now pinned to the floor, struggling to fend off the surprise attack.

"STAY" – punch – "AWAY" – punch – "FROM" – punch – "MY" – punch – "WIFE!!!!"

"RON!" Harry bellowed, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING?!" He desperately grabbed at Ron, hoping to catch hold of one of Ron's flailing limbs before he dealt some serious damage to Malfoy. Everyone else in the office had stopped what they were doing to watch the scene.

"Stay out of this, Harry!"

"Stop!" Harry finally yanked Ron away. "Ron, what the fuck are you doing? Have you bloody lost your sodding mind?"

"LET ME GO, HARRY!" Ron pulled against Harry's restraining arms, trying to once again attack Malfoy, who was slowly getting back up to his feet. Draco stood, wavering slightly. He reached his hand to his nose. When Malfoy pulled his hand away, Harry realised that Malfoy's nose was bleeding.

"She's not your wife anymore, Weasley." Malfoy's eyes gleamed dangerously.

"FUCK YOU, MALFOY!" Ron was literally redder than his hair.

"Ron!"

"Go ahead, Weasley." Malfoy smirked. "Go ahead and shout and yell and holler. It won't bring her back."

Ron glowered at the blonde now leering at him. "This is your fault, Malfoy. Your bleeding, sodding fault…"

Malfoy laughed unpleasantly. "Hardly, Weasley. This was your doing, and you know it."

Ron opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"Get out of here." Harry looked at Malfoy intently. "Get out, Malfoy."

Malfoy moved his glance from Ron to Harry before nodding almost imperceptibly. Turning on his heel, Malfoy spun around and strode out of the office, everyone's eyes following his path.

Once Malfoy had exited, every head pivoted to stare confusedly at Harry. "Get back to work," he snapped a little more harshly than he had intended. Almost immediately, the office reanimated, returning to motion as if nothing had happened.

Harry turned his attention back to Ron, but his friend had vanished from where he had been standing before. "Ron?" Harry swiveled his head around. His redheaded friend was nowhere to be found.

"He went that way, Harry." Tonks, who was peering out of her little cubicle, pointed in the opposite direction of which Malfoy had made his exit. "To the meeting room, I reckon."

"Thanks, Tonks." Harry sped off in the direction Tonks had directed him. Down the hallway, Harry noticed that one of the doors to the meeting room was slightly ajar.

Harry paused briefly before entering. Taking in a deep breath, he pushed the door open and stepped into the room.

"Ron?" Harry peered around the room. It was a large room that had a wall-length mirror on one end, overlooking the fountain. There was a long, oak table in the centre of the room with meshy swiveling chairs on either side of it. Big bookcases lined the walls, but on the far end of the room, there was a nook where nothing could fit. Harry walked over there, and sure enough, there was Ron, curled up in the corner.

"What do you want?" Ron practically spat out.

"Ron…" Harry started.

"Don'tRon me." Ron glared up at Harry with vicious blue eyes.

"I understand. You're hurting." Harry pulled out a chair and sat down. Ron turned his head away. "Look, Ron, you can't do stupid things like that! That's what's gotten you into this problem in the first place…"

"So you're taking his side, then?"

"Of course not. Why in Merlin's name would I do that?"

"Well, you seemed rather chummy with Malfoy back there."

"Ron! I just didn't want to see you get into any serious legal trouble! Malfoy may be an ex-convict but he's still one of the richest wizards in Britain. If you had gone any further, I know Malfoy would have sought legal action. That's the last thing you need right now, Ron."

Ron propped up his hands on his knees and cradled his head in them. "Shit, Harry." Ron shook his head. "What the bloody fuck am I going to do? I'm lost without her."

"I know."

Silence.

"I miss her," Ron finally said, his head bent towards the ground.

"I do too." Harry sighed. "Look, Ron, we just need to sort all this out."

"How, Harry? How do you propose we do that? How exactly do we go about doing that?" Ron groaned. "She won't talk to me. I've tried, Harry. She's hidden up somewhere at Malfoy's, and there's no way in hell Malfoy's about to let me in his bloody house. So tell me, Harry… how exactly do we sort this out if she won't even talk to me?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "We'll figure something out. She can't stay in there forever."

Ron looked up blankly at Harry. "Why ever not? It's not like she'd never need to do anything…"

"Exactly. Come on, Ron, this is Hermione we're talking about. She won't be able to stay holed up in Malfoy Manor too long."

Ron did not reply for a while, appearing to be contemplating something. "This is my fault," he finally said, sounding very bitter and remorseful. "Malfoy was right. This is my sodding fault. I should have let her work like she wanted to. She's nothing like Mum, and I know that. I shouldn't have lied to her…"

"Weall lied to her, Ron."

"Harry, what if…?"

"Ron, we did what we thought was best. Hermione's mad now, but I think in time she'll understand…"

"I don't think so, Harry." Ron's voice was dry and hollow. "I really don't think so. If she knows everything and can still leave me for Malfoy, I don't think she'd ever forgive me. Ever."

x x x

In a world that's moving too fast
In a world where nothing can last
I will hold you
I will hold you

x x x

Draco grimaced as he stalked through the giant lobby of Malfoy Manor. Gingerly, he touched his nose. It wasn't broken, but he was a bloodied mess. Draco looked down with disgust at his hand. It was covered with blood. After his unexpected physical confrontation with Weasley, Draco had wanted nothing more than to get away. He needed to get cleaned up quickly before…

"Draco?"

Shit. Draco stopped in his tracks. Hermione.

"Yes?" he asked, not turning around.

"You're back early today," Hermione replied.

"Well, I don't do business every day."

"Right." She paused. "Draco, is something the matter?"

"No."

"Then why are you still talking with your back to me?"

"It's nothing."

Draco should have known better. His quick and brusque answers were sure to trigger her alarms. Sure enough, she walked closer to him. He could hear her footsteps, gradually drawing nearer. "Draco, what's wrong?" she asked, the concern evident in her voice.

"I said it's nothing."

Hermione, however, ignored his protests. She walked around so she could look at him. Though Draco tried to obscure his face, it was in vain. She gasped loudly when she saw the blood that was streaked across his face.

"Draco! What happened?" she cried, rushing towards him. Hermione gently cradled his head in her hands. "What happened to you? Did you get mugged? Are you hurt? Are you all right? What happened, Draco?"

"I'm all right," he replied, trying to bat away her meddling hands.

"You are not all right. You have blood all over your face! Stand still… stop squirming, Draco! Scourgify." Hermione examined the results of her cleaning spell. "I got most of it," she finally said. "But let me go get a wet cloth to clean up the rest." She looked at him sternly. "Go to your room and sit on your bed and wait for me. Don't do anything until I get there, understand?" Without waiting for a response, Hermione zoomed off, calling for Hetty as she sped away.

Draco watched her rush off with amusement. It was rather endearing to see her all in a tizzy. Obliging her wishes, he slowly walked upstairs to his bedroom and seated himself on the bed, as Hermione had instructed him to do. He had not waited five minutes when Hermione burst through the door, holding a washcloth and a basin of water.

"Good," she said approvingly. Hermione set down the basin on the night stand next to Draco's expansive bed. She plopped down next to him. Carefully wringing out the excess water from the washcloth, Hermione turned her attention to Draco. "You have a bruise," she noted, her fingers brushing against the black spot right under his left eye.

"Ow!" Draco yelped. "That hurt!"

"Oh, stop being such a sissy." Hermione pulled out her wand, tapped the same spot again (Ow! Draco protested again), and mumbled a quick spell under her breath. She squinted her eyes, narrowing in on the spot before smiling. "It's mostly gone, but it'll be a few days before you're back to your normal pasty self."

"Thanks, Granger."

"Anytime, darling," Hermione sing-songed before returning to cleaning his face. Her expression slowly turned serious as she washed his face.

"So," she finally said, "are you going to tell me what happened or not?"

Draco hesitated. "I…" He trailed off. What could he say?

Hermione waited. "You…" she prompted.

Draco cleared his throat and tried again. "Today was my check-in day. I had to check in with my parole officer. And that's Harry." Hermione nodded, indicating she was listening and understanding. "Well, shortly after my check-in, there was a bit of a... shall we say… problem?"

Hermione looked confused. "So the Aurors attacked you?"

"Not Aurors," Draco said slowly. "More like… just one."

Hermione blinked, slowly putting the pieces together. She jumped up, startling Draco. "Ron! Ron did this to you?" Without waiting for confirmation, Hermione started pacing around the room angrily. "Thatidiot. I can't believe it! I always knew he was short-tempered, but doing something as juvenile and stupid as this? Ugh! That's just absolutely disgusting!"

"Hermione…" Draco entreated, trying to calm her down.

"Completely moronic, barbaric, and idiotic thing to do. That sodding idiot. I can't be-"

"Stop." Draco had risen up and was now standing. He pulled Hermione towards him, pressing her body flush against his. "It's all right. I'm fine, see? You fixed me."

"I'm so sorry, Draco," Hermione said. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Don't be." Draco smirked. "You're worth it."

Hermione's cheeks tinged pink with pleasure. Her lips turned up slightly, shading hints at a smile.

"So, since we're here and there's a bed readily available…" Draco leaned in to whisper into her ear. "What do you think?"

Hermione didn't reply, instead throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him full on the mouth.

Draco took it as a yes.

x x x

Our song
Played on a solo saxophone
A crazy sound
A lonely sound
A cry that tells us love goes on and on

x x x

Ginny Weasley was, if nothing else, very perceptive. Furthermore, she, having grown up with six brothers, understood the male psyche very well. She, having observed them for nearly two decades now, understood the nuances of each of her brothers. As different as each of her six brothers was, she knew that when it boiled down, there was one truth about all men: they were stupid, and inevitably, given half a chance, they would do something stupid.

Still, the knowledge of this did not stop her from being completely surprised by her youngest brother's actions.

"Howstupid could you be, Ronald?"

Ron scowled at her. "I heard this from Harry already. Do I really have to hear it from you again?"

"That has to be the single STUPIDEST thing you've ever done! And for you, that is incredibly stupid…"

"Why does everyone insist on calling me stupid?" Ron grumbled under his breath.

"Because you are!" Ginny practically exploded. "Do you realise what you've done? You've basically announced to the entire world that Hermione is with Malfoy now. How could you be so stupid and irresponsible? Even for you…"

"You're starting to sound like Mum."

Those words had the affect on Ginny that Ron had hoped for. Her mouth opened but no words came out. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at her brother. "Fine," she snapped. "Wallow in your stupidity and misery. See if I care. See if that helps you get Hermione back."

"Gin," Harry said, his eyes darting around the restaurant. "People arestaring."

Ginny folded her arms and leaned against her chair, now moving her glare to Harry. Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"All right, Ginny," Ron finally said, breaking the silence. "I was stupid. I really was." He looked from Ginny to Harry and back to Ginny again. "But we can't just sit here and keep calling me stupid… we got to figure something out. What can we do?"

Ginny sighed. "You know, I was always afraid this day would come. I think we all knew deep down… something like this was bound to happen. The moment Malfoy left Azkaban…" Ginny fell into deep thought. Hermione had been readily regaining her memory since Malfoy had been released. And, as Ginny reflected now, Hermione's behaviour had changed accordingly. That time Hermione had forgotten their plans for wedding planning. All the little details about her new life Hermione had hidden from Ginny - breaking habits, new friends she failed to tell Ginny about... That all made sense now. But this? How could Hermione walk out on her family and friends like this if she knew? Maybe… Ginny's eyes narrowed. What if…?

"Gin? Are you there?"

She snapped back to reality. "What?"

"What are you thinking?" Harry asked.

"Well," she said slowly, trying to reassemble her thoughts, "I was wondering how much Hermione remembered."

"Everything," Ron said miserably. "Everything."

"I don't think so," Ginny said. "I think she remembers most everything… but not everything." Straightening in her seat, Ginny pulled the folded napkin off her plate and placed it neatly across her lap. She took the menu and quickly glanced over it. "I think I'll be having the salmon," she said briskly. "What about you?"

Harry and Ron stared at her. "Ginny?" Harry asked, completely bewildered.

Ginny gave Harry a quick glance, and understanding his confusion, she simply said, "I will talk to Hermione soon."

"And how do you propose you do that?"

Ginny smiled knowingly at her brother and fiancé. "I guess you two still don't understand Hermione well enough. She will leave Malfoy Manor soon. It's been too long. She will leave Malfoy's, if not tomorrow, then the day after. And when she does, I will talk to her. I think there are some details that need to be straightened out." Ginny handed Harry the menu. "So what will you be having?"

x x x

Played on a solo saxophone
It's telling me to hold you tight
And dance
Like it's the last night of the world

x x x

Draco looked down on the sleeping form next to him, illuminated only by the waning moonbeams that sifted through the window. Hermione's brown curls brushed gently against her bare shoulder as she moved in her sleep.

He loved her. Draco knew this now, with full certainty. The last three years had been more than long enough for him to reflect, more than long enough to regret and repent. He would right every wrong he had done before, every terrible thing he'd said, every misstep, every mistake… he'd take it all back and make it right. All his failings in the past would be wiped away. Draco was starting anew like he never dreamed he could – a free man with the love of his life by his side.

Still, he couldn't sleep. Although the promise of a new life was in his hands, in the crevices of his mind, a darkness loomed… a darkness he could not ignore.

Draco stared out the window. The moon had set.

AN: Ta-daaaaa! There you have it. In case you were interested, the scene I had planned was Ron beating up on Draco. Buahua. Oh, Ron, you silly boy.

So? What do we think?