AN: HERE IT IS. I promised, didn't I? :D And for once I delivered!! This was, by far, the hardest chapter I've written thus far, and the reason for the long hiatus. This chapter literally took me five whole months to pound this out, but it has been pounded. I figured this would be difficult, but I never knew... Anyway, long story short, the fluffiness is over. The last chapter is probably the last of it and why I wanted to get it out so desperately, even though I knew it wouldn't really advance the story.

Thanks to the four people who reviewed. You guys rock my wizorld.

Anyway, without further ado...

Stand and Watch It Burn

XXIII. Collapse

A cool breeze fluttered. Hermione pulled the cloak a little more tightly around her. Though it was still August, there was a coolness already about the early hours of the day. The warmth of the sun's rays had yet to fill in the empty crevices where night was still hiding. There was a briskness in the air, tinted with the scent of sweet jasmine and grass still damp from the morning dew.

Hermione sat, watching as the sun slowly crept upwards through the brilliantly blue sky. Another day. Had it really been only days since she last left Ron and entered Malfoy Manor? It almost felt like a lifetime away. And truth be told, she was starting to get restless.

She looked down to the letter in her hand. It was from McGonagall and had come in yesterday.

Dear Ms. Granger,

I have written to you before regarding a teaching position at Hogwarts, and while you have previously turned down the position, after speaking with Professor Lupin, I had hope perhaps you would reconsider your decision. I still believe you are the best choice for the opening we have in the Transfiguration position. You would be a delightful addition to our teaching staff. While I do have an able-boded substitute (that being myself), I would much prefer having a Transfiguration professor that can dedicate himself or herself wholly to teaching that subject.

I do hope you will give my offer some more thought. My offer is an open-ended one, so if at any point you change your mind and would like to come, I would be more than happy to count you as one of my professors.

Sincerely yours,

Minerva McGonagall

Hermione sighed as she pondered its contents. This was the third letter she had received from Professor McGonagall since the beginning of the summer. She was still unsure of what to say. Part of her wanted desperately to say yes, but another part of her was more cautious, unwilling to commit.

"There you are." Footsteps drew nearer, and Hermione turned around, smiling.

"Draco." She reached out her hand to take his, which he gave.

"Good morning," he said, kissing her gently on the temple.

"Morning. Come have some breakfast." Hermione waved her hand at the table of food by her chair.

"You're up early today." Draco surveyed the table that Hermione had set. "Breakfast in the garden? That's a change."

Hermione laughed. "Sure. Where are you off to this fine, fine morning?"

Draco sat down in the chair next to her. "Oh, just following up on some investments the Malfoy Estate has made." He was busier now, Hermione noticed. He was out more often, and later than he had been before. "And you? Hey, what's that you have there?" He gestured at the letter in Hermione's hand.

"This?" Hermione lifted the letter up and gave it a shake. "Letter from McGonagall."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "What for?"

"She wants me to teach at Hogwarts. Transfiguration."

He nodded. "And?"

Hermione blinked. "And what?"

"And what do you think?"

"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "I would love to teach…"

"You'd be fantastic at it."

Hermione felt a smile pulling at her lips. "You really think so?"

Draco grinned and squeezed her hand. "I know so."

"Thanks," she murmured. "I would love to do it… but I don't know if I could leave Aiden behind. He's so young, and I want to be there for him and take care of him. But also…"

"You can do both," Draco said gently. "You always told me you couldn't just stay home – that you had to go out and work."

"I know," Hermione hemmed. "But…"

Draco patted her hand. "Do what you need to."

"I suppose. I am starting to feel sort of restless."

"Well, you've always been that way. I never could imagine you as a housewife, cooped up in a home, doing menial things like laundry and dishes. You always needed to go out and use that crazy brain of yours." Draco shot her a smirk.

"I was actually thinking…" Hermione hesitated.

"Thinking…" Draco prompted.

"Ofgoingouttoday."

Draco blinked and then smiled. "I didn't quite catch that."

"I want to go out. Of the Manor." Hermione felt her face flush. She wasn't sure why she felt so afraid of asking to leave. The truth was, she'd been afraid to bring this up a few days now, trying to find the perfect moment and opportunity… which never came. Hermione had tried to… but every time, something told her to hold back. Perhaps it was because Draco had never once suggested she do so. Or perhaps it was because she was afraid saying she wanted to leave the Manor might seem to imply to Draco she wanted to leave him.

Immediately, Draco's face darkened, and Hermione knew her suspicions were not completely unfounded. "Why?" he asked, his voice sounding a little strangled.

"Draco, it's not that I don't love it here… It's just… I've been here for days and days – almost two weeks now, and I'm starting to get a little stir crazy. You come home so awfully late, and I spend all day avoiding your mother." Hermione paused, trying to gauge Draco's reaction. He was still staring at the ground, not speaking. She reached across and placed a hand gently on his leg. "You can understand that, can't you? You just said so yourself – you can't imagine me cooped up."

Draco finally looked up and gave her a cool smile. "Of course," he replied smoothly. "You couldn't stay in here forever," he added, speaking more to himself than to her.

"I just thought I'd go to Diagon Alley or the library…"

Draco rolled his eyes in amusement. "More books, Granger? Aren't there enough in here for you?"

Hermione felt the tension leave her body. He was joking around. She smiled brightly in return. "Oh, you know the answer to that one."

"Of course. Never enough books." Draco stood up and kissed Hermione on the forehead. "Well, I really must be going."

"You didn't eat anything."

"There will be coffee and pastries at the meeting." Draco straightened his robe. "Enjoy your time out. You'll be home before dinner?"

"Most probably."

"All right. Well, you know where the Apparation point is, and the fireplace that's connected to the Floo network. If you want to leave Aiden behind, Hetty can take care of him. She practically raised me, so I'm sure she'd love to have another little one to look after." Draco started to walk away and then abruptly stopped. Turning, he gave Hermione a look she'd remember in years to come. "I love you," Draco said in a voice Hermione had never heard before.

"I love you, too."

x x x

Walking down Diagon Alley, Hermione felt a strange lightness. Strolling past store windows along with other witches and wizards gave her a new sense of freedom. She happily walked down the street to her favourite store – Flourish and Botts. She needed to catch up on their new shipments… after all, it had been almost two whole weeks since she was last there.

Two weeks. Just two weeks ago, Hermione was still with Ron, not knowing the whole truth. It was a bit strange to think about it. Hermione had stayed in Malfoy Manor for so long, she had nearly forgotten the world outside it. Truth was, Hermione had purposefully avoided thinking about it. It was much too difficult.

"Hermione."

Hermione froze at the sound of her name. The familiar voice sent strange chills of dread down her spine. It was a voice she knew well. She did not need to see the face of its owner to know who was speaking to her.

"Ginny," she said, finally turning around. With a jolt, their eyes met. Stunned by the ferocity in Ginny's eyes, Hermione almost took a step back. But Hermione held her head up high and her gaze steady. She couldn't show any fear. She couldn't show any signs of weakness – it would merely give Ginny vindication and justification. They were wrong, she reminded herself as she fixed her gaze steadily back at Ginny's. They were wrong.

Ginny's mouth was set in a thin, determined line. After a moment's silence, she finally moved.

"I see you've finally left your cage," she said coolly.

Hermione crossed her arms in response. She didn't need to deal with this.

Ginny let out a frustrated sigh. "Hermione, what are you doing?"

"Well, I was trying to go to the bookstore…"

"No." Ginny shook her head. "Don't play stupid, Hermione. It doesn't suit you. You know what I am talking about. What do you think you're playing at, running to Malfoy?"

"What do you think I'm playing at, Ginny?" Hermione responded through gritted teeth. "You all lied to me. About everything."

"Hermione, no, no." Ginny let up her hands in frustration. "It's not like that…"

"Then what is it like?" Hermione was growing impatient. "Explain it to me, because I seem to be missing something."

"You are." Ginny never was one to beat around the bush, but the bluntness of her statement took Hermione aback. "You don't remember…"

"But I do –"

"No," Ginny said firmly. "You don't. You couldn't, or you wouldn't still be with him right now." She took a step closer to Hermione. "If you really remembered, you'd know why… why we did what we did."

"There is no justification for what you did. You lied to me. You deceived me."

"We're not the only ones."

"As if that somehow makes it all right?" Hermione snorted. "What are we, five years old?"

Ginny ignored her. "Has Malfoy ever explained to you why he was arrested?"

"I know what happened," Hermione snapped. "I read it in the papers. He was arrested and framed for something or the other. And I guess Ron, blinded by jealousy, had something to do with it. And Harry. And you. My best friends."

"Is that was Malfoy told you?"

"He doesn't have to. I know, all right?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, Hermione," she said gently. "You don't."

Hermione stared at her. "What –"

"Do you really think we could do something like that? Ron was jealous and heartbroken. But we'd never, ever deliberately hurt you…" Ginny opened her hands imploringly. "You know that, Hermione. Something isn't right, and you know it. Malfoy's afraid to let you out. How long did you stay in Malfoy Manor before you finally made this first trip out? And he's hiding something from you… you know it, Hermione. You're smart. You know something isn't right."

Visions of Draco's uneasiness flooded her mind. His reluctance. His hesitations. Now, Hermione was the one hesitating as Ginny's words began to sank in.

"Harry and Ron should have explained themselves better," Ginny said quietly. "Then we wouldn't be in this mess we are now. But Ron's too hotheaded, and Harry's never been too good with words. They should have made sure you all were on the same page before jumping to conclusions."

"Ron modified my memory," Hermione said defensively. "He admitted to it."

Ginny sighed. "He did. And maybe that was a mistake. But do you know why he did it?"

Hermione snorted. "Does it matter?"

"Of course it does," Ginny replied. "Hermione, do you remember what happened the night Malfoy was arrested?"

Hermione opened her mouth but then paused. She couldn't. Hermione sifted desperately through her newfound memories, trying to remember, trying to just catch a glimpse of that night… but it was empty. She couldn't remember that night or anything after.

"I didn't think so."

Hermione was still in a trancelike state when she realized Ginny was walking away. She ran after her. "Ginny, wait!"

Ginny stopped and turned around. "Yes?" she asked, calmly.

"Well…?"

"Well what?"

"Well aren't you going to tell me?"

Ginny seemed to consider it for a moment. "No," she finally said. "No, I'm not."

Hermione's jaw almost dropped to the ground. "You mean you stood here, lecturing me and now you won't tell me exactly why you're lecturing me? I can't believe this…"

"You'll remember in time, Hermione. I can't be the one to tell you. You wouldn't believe me, anyway." Ginny smiled wryly. "But you know where to find me when you do."

"So you can gloat and tell me you told me so?"

"No," Ginny replied honestly. "So I can catch you."

Hermione watched, confused, as Ginny disappeared down the street.

x x x

"What does she mean, 'so I can catch you'? What sort of absurd, condescending remark is that?"

Hermione was now at Olivia's, pacing in the living room. Olivia was sitting on the couch, watching apprehensively as Hermione darted back and forth, rambling on and on about what had happened earlier that day.

"I –"

"And honestly," Hermione cried out, barreling on, "who does she think she is? I wonder how she even knew where I was. I bet she had some sort of stalking charm on me. The nerve…"

"Well –"

"What right does she have to talk to me like that? After everything? I don't believe her. I don't."

"Don't… or can't?"

Hermione stopped dead. Her head swiveled around to where Olivia was sitting. "What?"

"Don't or can't?" Olivia repeated. "Do you really not believe her… or do you just not want to?"

"I… I…" Hermione was at a loss for words. "I… Of course I don't!"

"Because it seems to me maybe you just can't… because if you believed her, things wouldn't be as simple as you'd like them to be."

"What do you mean by that?"

Olivia shrugged. "I don't know. It just all seems so strange to me, you know? If she had wanted you to think or believe something, wouldn't she have told you straight out what it was?"

Hermione fell down next to Olivia on the couch. "Yeah," she replied.

"These are your friends. I mean, yes, they lied to you. For years. But what if Ginny's right? What if they had a really good reason for doing so?"

"I'm so confused." Hermione let her head fall back. "Merlin."

Olivia twisted her lips. "You don't remember anything?"

"Nothing."

"Strange."

Hermione sighed. "I guess I never really thought about it. I just assumed… I just assumed I knew the truth and let it be that. I never even asked Draco what happened. He never wanted to talk about the past, really. He'd just say that was behind him and that he didn't want to think about it. I thought maybe it hurt too much for him… but…"

"But?"

"But… he seemed so uneasy. Like maybe…"

"Like maybe he was hiding something?"

Hermione didn't want to admit it, but her silence was affirmation enough for Olivia. "Talk to him," Olivia urged. "That's the only thing you can do."

"But he won't want to," Hermione said, feeling rather helpless. "If it's as terrible as Ginny makes it out to be, why would Draco want to talk about it at all?" Hermione gripped her hands together tightly in her lap. "No," she said firmly. "No, I won't."

"No?" Olivia repeated disbelievingly. "What do you mean no?"

"I can't, Olivia. I'm… I'm finally happy, and I remember… almost everything. Maybe there's a reason why I don't remember what happened that night. Olivia, I just can't… I love him."

"You have to, Hermione." Olivia crossed her arms. "I don't think you noticed, but you really don't have much of a choice. You have to find out what happened that night. You owe it to Harry and Ginny and Aiden and… I can't believe I'm saying this… you owe it to Ron."

"Ron?"

"He's your son's father."

Hermione snorted. "Olivia, you remember what he did."

"I know, but you still owe it to him. And most of all, you owe it to yourself. You have to find out, Hermione… or otherwise, you're still living a lie. You'd be no better off than before you found out Draco was part of the Order."

"It's not the same –"

"It is," Olivia cut in. "It's the same. Don't try to convince yourself differently."

Hermione didn't reply, gazing out the window instead.

x x x

The next day, Hermione decided to stay in and just spend time with Aiden. The morning was spent in the library where Hermione read to Aiden some wizarding fairy tales. The afternoon was pleasantly warm and sunny and Hermione thought it would be a perfect time to spend in the gardens with Aiden. The day passed by peacefully and uneventfully. Hermione mentally applauded her decision. Not that she was afraid of what was out there. Well, not really anyway. Yesterday's encounter with Ginny had served as a sufficient, albeit rather harsh reminder of reality. Having stayed in Malfoy Manor for so long, Hermione had nearly forgotten that there was a world outside the little insulated one she and Draco lived in.

"Da!"

Hermione smiled at her little son who was sitting in front of her, burbling happily and clapping his hands. She plucked one of the flowers growing nearby and tickled his nose with it. Aiden giggled, happy and carefree. Ron… Aiden was so much like him. Hermione sighed, her mind racing. How long could she do this? How long could she hide here, stay away from the truth? The rest of the wizarding world would soon find out that the wife of Harry Potter's best friend had run into the arms of Lucius Malfoy's son. What would they think of her then? What would they think of Harry? Ron? Draco?

To be completely truthful, Hermione hadn't thought much about the implications of what she had done when she fled to Draco. She had just… acted.

Happiness… this was it, wasn't it? Hermione was with the man she loved, and he loved her too. They were finally together, after all both of them had been through. She should be happy… and she was. But Hermione couldn't get what Ginny said out of her head. Nor could she shrug off Olivia's concerns. It was just one night. Could it matter so much?

"Afternoon tea, Miss?"

Hermione looked up to see Milly standing nearby. "That would be lovely. Has Draco returned?"

"Young Master is still out and tells Milly he does so until dinner."

Hermione nodded. "All right."

"Would young miss like tea out in the garden?"

"That would be perfect. Thank you, Milly," Hermione said. The house elf smiled and disappeared with a crack.

It did matter, Hermione knew.

Her happiness was dependent upon it.

x x x

Draco strolled through the front entrance of Malfoy Manor, the sound of his boots echoing through the entire lobby as he walked.

He was busier than ever now. Initially, people had been afraid to deal with him. They didn't want to have to deal with a Malfoy. That name was nearly like poison in the wizarding community. When Draco had been first released, they had shunned him. No company or investor wanted to be known for dealing with the devil. But as Draco's release became less scandalous, people warmed to him, however reluctantly. Money, Draco knew, was a very persuasive influence and that the Malfoy Estate had plenty of. So in all honesty, it probably had only been a matter of time.

For once, things seemed to be looking up.

I wonder what Hermione is doing. Just thinking of her filled him with warmth. Knowing she'd be there when he came home gave him a sense of security that he never knew he could have. Mentally, Draco berated himself for being so anxious of letting Hermione leave the Manor the day before. What had he been so afraid of?

Draco checked a clock that he passed by in one of the hallways. Seven. Hetty and Milly would be nearly done with preparing dinner about now. I hope Hetty made potatoes, he thought hopefully.

Automatically, Draco went to the small dining room where he and Hermione always had dinner. His mother was still refusing to acknowledge Hermione's presence in the Manor. It bothered Draco that his mother was being so stubborn. She'll come around. He hoped.

When he reached the room, the table was already set, food was laid on the table, and Hermione was sitting there, an empty plate sitting in front of her. At the sound of his entrance, Hermione looked up.

"Hey love," Draco said. He passed by her, giving her a quick kiss on the top of her head.

"Hey."

Draco frowned. Hermione's response had been lackluster, very much unlike her. Her usually bright, inquisitive brown eyes were clouded over with trouble. Draco felt a little inkling of uncertainty start to build in the bottom of his stomach. This was a familiar feeling by now. Carefully, he fought it back. It's probably nothing.

"Is something wrong?"

"What?" Hermione's head jerked up. "Oh… no. No, I'm fine. Just a little tired," she said quickly.

Draco wasn't convinced, but he decided to let it go. "I see."

"And hungry. You took so long to get home," Hermione added with a soft smile.

"Ah," Draco replied, feeling a little more at ease now. "So you're angry with me."

"Not angry," Hermione said, her eyes tilted upward. "Not happy, per se. I'd go with something more in the "annoyed" category perhaps. But angry? Oh, never."

Draco chuckled. "I'll try to get home earlier. I'm sorry."

Hermione smiled. "It's all right. I understand. So, what did you do today?"

"Oh, not much really. Met up with some investors and some top executives of companies I'd invested in." Draco shoved the potatoes around on his plate. "Merlin, I don't know how long I can do this. Maybe you should help me out Hermione."

She laughed softly. Draco bent over and started to eat his potatoes. He loved potatoes.

"Draco?"

Hermione had spoken so softly, Draco had almost missed it. "Hm?"

"What happened that night?"

"What night?" Draco asked offhandedly.

"That night," Hermione repeated hesitantly. "The night you were arrested."

Clank. Draco had dropped his fork.

"Wh-what…" His mind was racing. Draco could hear his heart pounding in his chest. "Why are you asking?"

"Because I can't remember. And we never talk about it. I…"

"Why are you suddenly bringing this up?" Draco couldn't suppress the unease he felt, and it betrayed him in his voice. Hermione, ever observant, did not miss the change in tone.

"What's wrong with me bringing it up?" Her words were measured and careful.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not?" Hermione pressed. Draco grimaced. He knew Hermione. She wasn't about to let this go. "Draco, we should be able to talk about everything, right?"

Wrong.

"Draco, don't you trust me? I love you, and I just want to know…"

"I already said I don't want to talk about it?"

"Why not?" she demanded.

"Why do you want to know?" Draco shot back. He stood up abruptly, taking Hermione by surprise. She jumped at his sudden movement. "Why do you want to know so badly? Maybe there's a fucking reason why I don't talk about it! Why can't you just leave it alone? Why do you always have to know everything?"

Blood was rushing to his head. Draco suddenly felt very faint. He had to leave. He had to get out of here. He couldn't breathe, and he could swear the walls were closing in on him. Gathering what was left of his wits, he pushed past Hermione, out of the dining room. Draco managed to make it into his bedroom before his legs gave way and he crashed to the floor.

- - -

"Draco."

It was nearly midnight. Draco was getting ready for bed. He had just finished changing into his night clothes when Hermione had entered. He didn't look up or respond when she called his name. He sat on the bed with his back turned to her.

"Draco," Hermione repeated, a little more desperately this time. "Please… please look at me."

But Draco didn't move. He couldn't.

"I'm sorry. I mean… If you don't want to talk about it, we don't have to talk about it. I'm just…. I don't know. I don't know what came over me. I'm so sorry."

Tell her. Tell her now.

"I know I shouldn't push you. It must hurt you to think about that time… I'm just being stupid and selfish. I'm sorry."

Hearing her apologize wasn't helping. It only made him feel worse.

"Draco?"

The words rose to his lips and died there. He couldn't. He just couldn't.

"I'm sorry," Draco whispered. "I shouldn't have shouted. I…"

"No, Draco."

Yes, he thought bitterly.

"Come to bed," he said quietly.

Her eyes slowly lit up, brightening with tears he knew she was holding back. A smile slowly crept across her face, and she slid into his bed, next to him, in the place she'd occupied so many nights before.

Slowly he eased down, resting his head on the pillow. Draco closed his eyes, trying to collect himself.

Hermione leaned into his ear. "I love you," she whispered.

Draco turned to face Hermione who had snuggled in, her body molded to his, was curved by his side. He leaned over and kissed her softly on the forehead.

"Sweet dreams."

x x x

Pain. Screaming. Pain, so much pain! Then, as suddenly as it came, it goes.

Now panic… fear, rising up. Desperation.

"Draco, don't, it's a trick. Don't listen to her!"

"Just say the words."

"Draco, don't do this. It's a mistake, and you know it. She's just trying to trick you. Draco, please, look at me. Come back to me. Draco…"

"Everything you dreamed of your entire life, Draco! Respect! Glory! Honour! Your father would be so proud if he knew."

"Draco, remember what you said. You can't… you can have something else. Remember when you told me I'd be enough… Draco, please… don't. I… I love you."

Cold. The stillness before the storm. Her heart is falling, dropping…

A flash of light. Then nothingness.

- - -

Hermione woke with a start, her body drenched in cold sweat. Her mind was racing, reeling, as she tried to make sense of what just happened. It was a dream… just a terrible dream… She looked at Draco's sleeping form to her right. He was so still, and his breathing was low and even. He looked so calm and peaceful. Hermione reached out in an attempt to touch his face, but she couldn't.

Hermione could feel her heart pounding in her ears. She tore out from the bed and ran out of the room. Stumbling, she tripped and fell to the ground. Her breathing was ragged as she tried desperately to straighten her thoughts.

Please… let it just be a dream. Don't let it be real…

She sat up and leaned against the wall. Closing her eyes, she tried to think. She tried to sift through her thoughts. It was there, lodged firmly in her memory, refusing to move no matter how she tried to remove it. And the aftermath… Ron… she grabbed her knees, hugging them towards her as she shook her head.

And she knew. It wasn't just a dream. She opened her eyes, and she could feel her heart fall.

She remembered. But she wished that she didn't.

AN: OMG OMG OMG.

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