Sorry about the cliffie, things will start to unfold soon. Draco is plotting, but when isn't he? Things are going to get interesting again! By the way, some of you reviewers are funny. Quite funny. Anyway, on with the show.

The first couple of weeks of the summer holidays were not easy for Draco either. Since his father was in Azkaban, Draco was seen as the master of the house, and the house elves looked up to him for orders about certain things most of the time. Since his mother found out about Lucius being put away, she had taking to drinking most of the time and abandonning most of her duties, which put more of a strain on Draco.

By day, he'd conduct some of the family business and tried to avoid his mother as much as possible, for she was quite a bitch in the morning after long nights of drinking. He'd arrange meetings for his mother, take care of the finances, which were still quite a lot, even though no one in the house was working now, and make sure the house elves were doing their activities.

When Draco had a moment to rest, he'd think about Hermione's words to him on the train home from Hogwarts. He was thinking about what to do, it's just, he wasn't sure what he'd be happy with.

Of course, he had ideas, ideas which would surely drive his mother mad if she ever found out. His father wouldn't care, as Draco knew about the nightly romps he had with Snape and a few other people he was on a friendly basis with. He had ideas what his father and Voldemort did when they were alone too, but those thoughts bothered him to no end.

So, he'd take to sitting in his room and staring out the window at the lovely view. He'd do this for hours on end until a house elf came in to see what was up with him,"M-master." Trixle, a smaller than normal house elf said,"are you ok? Would you like something?"

"No, quite alright Trixle. I'll be sure to call if I change my mind however." Trixle bowed and turned to leave,"Trixle, wait." Draco called. The small house elf turned abruptly.

"Yes master?"

"I'm going outside in the garden by the pond. Can you make sure I am not bothered? If mother asks where I am, can you tell her I'm somewhere else? Away for all I care."

"Yes master." she bowed again,"I'll do my best." And turned to leave again.

Once out of the house and in the safety of the secluded garden, Draco sat on a stone bench and looked out across the water. Many times before, Draco had written a letter to Harry, but each time, he crumbled it up and threw it into the fire, watching the paper reduce to ashes. After a few minutes, he'd start writting a letter again and then throw it into the fire as well.

It's not that he didn't like Harry, he did. Gods, he did. He liked him with every fiber of his being. Every time he'd see him, it was like he was in pure ectasy. When Harry came to him that night to ask him if things were truly over, Draco wanted to push him up against the wall and kiss him forever. He didn't want to stop, but he did, he had too.

After the kiss, he stumbled back to the common room, his knees were so weak, when Harry had kissed him back, he knew he liked him in return and then he stayed up all night mentally kicking himself because of his actions. He could have taken him right there in the dark hallway, he wouldn't have complained. He should have done it.

Before his thoughts could go any farther, a small owl swooped by and dropped a letter into his lap. He looked up at the owl and realized it was not one he had seen before. This letter was from someone he'd never gotten one from before. His name was scrawled on the front of the parchment envelope in tiny delicate handwriting. It had to be a girl.

He opened up the letter and began to read:

Draco,

I sure hope you have given what I told you a thought. I haven't heard from Harry, so I'm guessing you haven't sent him any letters yet.
I sure hope you make a decision soon, because I know it's killing him, and I'm sure it's killing you too. I saw you watching him the day we left Hogwarts. I saw fire in your eyes, I know you want him. Do yourself a favor, do him a favor, and admit it.

Hermione

Draco read the letter several times before folding it back up and shoving it back into his cloak pocket. He headed back towards the house and avoided the house elves who tried to pawn off some food and drink on him. He refused each offer and hurried up to his room, passing by his mother who was screaming at him, wondering where he had been.

He slammed his door behind him and threw the letter onto his desk. He paced back and forth a few times, and then plopped down onto his bed before getting back up to pace back and forth across the room again.

Gods this was killing him, killing him slowly. He needed a plan, some course of action that would allow him to get to Harry, something that would let Harry knew he cared and that he wanted to take things futher.

To start his plan, he penned a letter to Hermione asking when she'd be seeing Harry, sometime when he'd be away from those horrible muggle relatives of his. Then, Draco could truly begin planning how he was going to show Harry he truly cared.