AN: It's been a while. I'm sorry. I know; I should be strung up and left there to suffer. But thank you for those of you still sticking with this story. It's nearing the end, and the next chapter is nearly finished!

Thank you to everyone who's reviewed. Really provides the sort of inspiration I need.

Without further ado...

Stand and Watch It Burn

XVI. Behind the Shadow

Hermione stacked some books into her arms. The smell of old parchment was intoxicating, and she loved it. Being surrounded by books and the written wisdom of philosophers and scholars before her was all she dreamed of when she was a little girl, and in a strange way, her dream was now coming true. Not exactly the way she planned it, true – and not exactly how she had originally envisioned it when she was young, but how could Hermione had known of witches and wizards when she was six?

She looked over the stack one more time to make sure she had everything. History of the Use of Herbs in Potions, Sage: the Wisdom of Time, and The Thyme Continuum… These went into the Magical Plants and Herbs section.

"Hey, you need help?"

"No, O, I'm fine." Hermione smiled at her approaching friend. Hermione had been helping Olivia at the library the last few days. She had made sure to keep a low profile, lest someone recognize her. While she wasn't hiding from anyone, Hermione didn't want an awkward confrontation, and moreover, she didn't want to face the people from her past life just yet.

Olivia returned the smile. "You're taking to this like a fish in water. I'm a little worried that I'll be out of a job pretty soon."

"I still have much to learn," Hermione replied cheekily. "You're light years ahead of me. It does feel good to be working again, though."

"You were never the kind to just stay home."

"I've been sending out inquiries," Hermione replied. "I figure if everything else in my life is a mess, the least I should do is figure out a job and a steady income."

Olivia nodded. She followed Hermione as Hermione made her way to the Magical Plants and Herbs section, walking past the Potions, History, and Magical Creatures section.

"How are Robby and Aiden?" Hermione asked as she rounded a bookcase and into the centre of the Magical Plants and Herbs section. She eyed the labels, looking for the right shelf for her books.

"Good," Olivia said. "They're having a lot of fun in the nursery when I last checked… oh, ten minutes ago. I think they're having story time with Stacey in another five minutes."

"Great," Hermione said. She grabbed The Thyme Continuum and slipped it back into the empty place on the shelf where it was supposed to be. "Aiden always liked it when I read to him."

Olivia took History of the Use of Herbs in Potions off of Hermione's arms and walked further down the aisle. "Robby, too. Robert used to read to him when he was only an infant. I used to tease him for that. As if a three month old could understand Faust."

Hermione stared at Olivia dumbly. "Your husband read Faust to Robby?"

Olivia rolled her eyes. "That was Robert for you." She smiled somberly. "That was my Robert."

Hermione walked over to Olivia and squeezed her shoulder gently. "There's still some more books to reshelf. You want to help?"

Olivia cleared her throat. "Yeah, sure."

"Great," Hermione said, smiling.

The two walked to the back of the library. All the unsorted books were put into a small, dusty, dimly lit room behind the little perused Immigration in Wizarding History section. The only things that were jammed into the tiny room were a small, rectangular table, a few chairs, and a narrow pushcart used to move books around the library. Hermione groaned slightly when she saw the table and the pile of books stacked haphazardly atop it and on top of some of the chairs around the table. "Seriously, if people could just put the books back themselves…"

"We'd have more of a mess." Olivia started sifting through the books and placing some on the cart. "Trust me. Before the library changed the policy to 'just leave it on the table' it was even worse. You'd find books on centaurs in the Magical Plants section."

"I guess that'd be annoying," Hermione admitted. "But still…"

"Yeah," Olivia agreed. "What can you do?"

"Not much, I guess." Hermione brushed the cover of an especially dusty book. "Hogwarts: a History!" She peered closer. "Oh Merlin! The second edition! This must be old."

Olivia grinned. "An upside of sorting through books is that occasionally, you find gems like that."

"Guess so." Hermione flipped through the old pages.

As Hermione leafed through the book, inspecting the differences, Olivia continued to stack the books. A few minutes passed, a soft silence drifting in the air. Olivia cleared her throat. "So," Olivia said deliberately.

Hermione raised her gaze up to focus on Olivia across the table. "So?" she repeated.

"I noticed the letter you received this morning."

"Oh." Hermione lowered her eyes back down the book.

"What are you going to do about it?"

Hermione mumbled something incoherently under her breath. Olivia raised an eyebrow. "I didn't quite catch that, sorry."

"I don't know," Hermione said. She slammed Hogwarts: a History, third ed. shut. "I don't know, and I don't really want to talk about it."

"That's the fourth letter he's sent to you this week," Olivia said quietly. "Don't you think you need to give him some sort of reply?"

"What kind of reply could I possibly give him? I don't even know how I feel about him anymore. He wants to see me, but I don't know if I want to see him. I don't know if I want to see him ever again."

"Do you really mean that?" Olivia asked. When Hermione didn't reply for a while, Olivia continued. "I don't think you do."

"I don't know." Hermione was frustrated. "If you were right, then what? What happens if I see him again?"

Olivia shrugged. "Anything could happen. Nobody knows."

"Exactly! I have absolutely no idea what would happen. I just can't…"

"Is that what scares you?" Olivia crossed her arms. "That you don't know what will happen? That you'll have to be open and unsure?"

"That's part of it," Hermione said uncertainly.

"Then what's the other part?"

"I don't know…"

Olivia shook her head. "Then go find out. You owe yourself that much. You owe Draco that much."

Hermione looked down at the book resting at her hands. Did she?

- - -

Draco sat at his writing table, his head sunk between his hands. Pieces of parchment lay strewn all across the table. Some of the pieces of parchment were clean and fresh, but most of them had been written on and crumpled up into a messy ball. He had written so many letters to Hermione since the moment she'd left, each one begging for forgiveness and for her to give him one more chance.

One more chance. It seemed as if Draco were always asking for just one more chance.

She hadn't replied to any of his overtures. He was starting to lose hope, and all the effort had put a serious strain on him. Draco had not attended to affairs regarding the Malfoy estate in over a week, and the letters regarding that were starting to pile up. Several of his lawyers had stopped by, seeking an audience, but Draco had one of his house elves tell them that he wasn't feeling well. That was partially true, anyway.

There was a knock at his door.

"Who is it?"

"Milly, sir."

"Come in."

The door swung open, and the little house elf toddled in, bearing a silver tray, laden with a cup of tea and some biscuits. "Time for tea, sir," Milly said jovially. "Young master's mother had Milly brings young master this chocolate covered biscuits. Mistress says young master likes this chocolate biscuits very much. Mistress is very worried about young master, sir."

Draco looked at the plate of chocolate biscuits and picked one up. He smiled a little. He remembered how, as a child, his mother would always sneak him a few extra chocolate biscuits during tea time with a cagey smile on her face. It was a special treat and had always been something of a secret between the two of them.

Milly was still standing around, looking at him almost expectantly. "Yes?" Draco asked.

"Well, sir," Milly said, "there's been someones prowling around the property, sir. Milly and Hetty has seen somethings…"

Tap tap tap.

Draco turned to the window and quickly shifted his attention from the house elf to the owl hovering outside the window. He could see it carrying a small roll of parchment.

"All right, Milly," Draco said almost absently. "Thank you for telling me. I'll look into it later. You're dismissed."

Milly bobbed her head down and darted out of the room, leaving the tray behind.

Draco walked to the window and opened it, allowing the owl to enter. The owl fluttered through the window and landed gently on Draco's writing table, amidst the pieces of crumpled parchment. It hooted gently and held out its leg for Draco to remove the roll tied to it.

Carefully, Draco removed the roll of parchment. He gave the owl the remaining part of his chocolate biscuit, which it ate gratefully. It hopped toward the window, spread its wings, and flew out. Draco watched it go. Whoever wrote to him did not want a response.

He sat down in his chair and unrolled the small piece of parchment. Draco's eyes skimmed over the letter. The note was short. It wasn't addressed, nor was it signed, but Draco knew exactly who it was from.

Two o'clock at Landy's Tea Place.

- - -

"Bye, Olivia."

"Good luck." The other brunette smiled at Hermione. "I'll look after Aiden until you get back."

Hermione reached out and held Olivia's arm. "Thank you so much – for everything."

Olivia smiled back and pulled Hermione into a hug. "Thank you, too." She stepped back and looked Hermione in the eyes. "It's been a long time since I've felt so alive. Ever since Robert died, a little part of me sort of…" Olivia stopped short. "Go. You wouldn't want to be late."

Hermione nodded her head. She turned and walked down the street, away from the library. To what? She couldn't say.

Hermione was still unsure of her decision. Was this the right thing to do? Her mind had wrestled with that question all night, but she had told Draco she would meet with him, and she couldn't back down on that now. And part of her heart yearned to see him, even if she still wasn't sure if she could forgive what he did.

Maybe Olivia was right. Maybe she had to allow Draco to try and explain. But she'd gone over it so many times in her head. What explanation could he possibly have that made what he did right? Nothing. There was nothing.

Still, Olivia had been persistent. Something told Hermione that Olivia's feelings were biased due to the fact that Draco had once saved her and Robby's life. Olivia had insisted that that wasn't the only reason, but Hermione wasn't so sure. As far as Hermione could see, there was no other reason to side with Draco.

She turned the corner and was nearing the place where she was supposed to meet Draco. Nerves were starting to settle in, and her footsteps slowed. When Hermione stopped walking, she heard the quick stutter of footfall behind her. She felt a tingle raise the hairs on the back of her neck.

I'm just nervous, Hermione reasoned. It's probably nothing.

Hermione started walking again, listening for anything behind her. Hearing nothing, she felt at ease and brushed off her concerns as simply nerves. She was about to cross the street when she was suddenly jerked off the walkway and into a dark alley.

Before she could scream, everything went black.

- - -

Draco stared at the clock on the wall. He had arrived on time – for once, and to his surprise, Hermione had not been there. He managed to shake off the shock and asked for a table for two, and sat down, expecting Hermione to show up at any minute. Maybe, he postulated, the clock in the restaurant was a few minutes fast. But it was now twenty minutes past two. Hermione was never late – ever. He stirred his tea as he contemplated what to do and what this delay meant. Although he knew, he didn't want to face the reality of what it meant. Somewhere in his stomach, he felt something clench and twist.

So Draco waited five minutes more for good measure. Twenty-five past two.

He was then forced to arrive at the only plausible conclusion.

She wasn't coming.

Gathering his things, Draco threw some money onto the table and swept out of the tea shop, never once turning back.

- - -

Two days later, Wednesday came. Draco had never been a fan of Wednesdays before, but he hated it even more now. The last thing Draco wanted to do was to deal with the mundane details of business and estates. Not now, when his mind was wandering to other things every ten seconds. He was tortured by his pain and guilt, and he was plagued with questions about why Hermione hadn't come.

Draco was making his way down Diagon Alley, having left one meeting and on his way to another. He forced himself to focus on the details of his meeting prior, thinking of legal details and profit margins and rates of return. For the time being, it was working. Throwing himself into this seemed to distract him sufficiently, and at the same time, it brought him a small sense of accomplishment. Maybe I should get a job, he mused.

"Draco Malfoy?"

The sound of his name was so foreign, he almost didn't recognize it. Draco certainly hadn't expected anyone to shout out his name in the middle of Diagon Alley. He stopped in his tracks, in confusion. Draco careened his head around, trying to find the source of the voice. Standing in the middle of one of the busiest roads in Diagon Alley, he was surrounded by a sea of faces, none of which he recognized. Draco turned around once, his eyes searching for the owner of the voice.

A petite girl with shoulder length brown hair standing by the corner was looking at him intently. "Draco Malfoy?" she repeated.

"Who are you?" he asked, point blank.

"Olivia Pinkerton. I don't know if Hermione ever mentioned me but…"

Draco cut her off. "Yes, she did," he said, a bit curtly. "What do you need?"

She took two steps closer to him. "I was wondering if… Did Hermione go back to your place after you two met for tea? Is she staying with you? I've tried owling her, but every time, my owl just returns with the letter I wrote."

He stared. "What?"

"A couple nights ago, she mentioned she would be meeting up with you. When she didn't come home that night, I assumed she stayed with you. But now two days have passed, and I haven't heard from her, especially since she left Aiden behind… That isn't like Hermione."

"She never came." Draco swallowed hard. This couldn't be good.

Olivia blinked. "Oh… Oh no…" She bit her lip. "Do you know where she could be?"

"Have you asked W… Weasley?" Draco managed to get the words out, no matter how painful it was. The very thought of Hermione returning to him hurt.

Olivia shook her head. "No. There was no way she would go back to Ron. She's not there."

"Have you checked with her parents? Or Potter?"

"Her parents are out of town, vacationing in Bermuda," Olivia said. "I hadn't thought to check with Harry Potter or Ginny. I don't know them or even how to contact them. I only found you by sheer luck. I've been standing on this street for hours, hoping you'd pass by. Hermione mentioned that on Wednesdays you'd go to Diagon Alley, so I was hoping to catch you here." Olivia opened her hands with a flourish. "And here you are."

Draco smiled wryly. "I know where Potter works," he said. "We should go ask."

Olivia nodded. "Let's go, then."

- - -

Harry stared angrily at the offending objects in front of him.

Silver ribbon or gold gilding?

When Harry asked Ginny to marry him, he had anticipated a life full of love and happiness. What he hadn't anticipated were these dull and stupid details and all the hoops he'd have to jump through before he finally could start to enjoy that happily every after. Ginny was always pushing wedding invitations at him or showing him swatches or asking him to taste some sort of pastry. All these wedding preparations were starting to make him hate marriage.

He shoved the nameplates to the side. He'd deal with that later. For now, he needed to work on something easier. Harry cringed slightly as he imagined Ginny yelling at him for not caring about their wedding or some other nonsense. With the wedding so close, Ginny was under a lot of stress, especially since… Harry grabbed his quill and pulled out some paperwork and refocused his attention on something he could actually understand. Harry frowned at the parchment in front of him. He tapped his quill against his face, thinking. This doesn't make sense, he thought. If the allegations only were…

"Harry?"

He blinked slowly and pulled his eyes away from the document in front of him. "Yes?" he asked, peering at his secretary, standing in the doorway.

"There are two people here looking for you," Susan explained. She wrung her hands nervously – something Harry noticed immediately.

"I'm not expecting anyone," he commented. He sat up and leaned back in his chair. "Who are they?"

"One of them is Draco Malfoy."

Harry raised an eyebrow. What was Malfoy doing here – today? He checked his calendar. No. It wasn't time for Malfoy's parole check-in… "And the other?"

"An Olivia Pinkerton. Do you know her?"

"No." Harry rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I don't."

Susan leaned back on her heels. "What would you like me to do?"

"Send them in," he said.

Susan nodded and scurried to the waiting room.

Harry sat there for a few minutes, the document he had been previously puzzling over, forgotten. There, in the silence, he stared out in dumb wonderment. What in Merlin's name was Malfoy doing here on a Wednesday? And who was this Olivia that was with him? Olivia Pinkerton… Harry racked his mind, filing through all the names he'd encountered through his travels and his work. The name was familiar somehow…

His wondering was cut short by Malfoy's entrance. Malfoy stormed through the doorframe followed closely by a petite brunette. Her eyes widened briefly as they rested on Harry, but she quickly regained her composure. Harry stood up.

"Malfoy, what's the meaning of this?"

"Hermione," Malfoy said bluntly. "Is she with you?"

"Is this some kind of a joke?" Harry practically spat out. "Trying to rub it in my face or something? It isn't funny, Malfoy. Now if you'll please get the hell out –"

"It isn't," the girl said, cutting in. Harry's eyes darted from Malfoy to her. She took a step back and her face flushed slightly. "A joke, I mean. Sorry," she said hurriedly. "I'm Olivia Pinkerton. I was Hermione's friend… we met at the library."

The library. "Of course," Harry said.

"Hermione was staying with me when… well…" Olivia looked nervously at Harry then Malfoy.

"I see," Harry said quickly, trying to spare Olivia the unpleasant task of saying aloud the difficulties Hermione had been going through lately with all of them. "Go on."

"A couple of days ago, Hermione said she was going to meet with Draco for tea. When she didn't come home that night, I just assumed that she went home that night with him. But when I hadn't heard from her, I started to worry. It's not like Hermione to do that, not when she leaves Aiden behind. So I managed to find Draco, and when he said he hadn't heard from her either…" Olivia's voice drifted off. Her green eyes were wide with anxiety.

"She's not with you," Harry said slowly. "Then where is she?"

AN: LE GASP!!!

What will happen next? Stay tuned...