Author's Notes: Thank you for the reviews :) Not many more chapters to go at all, though there is an epilogue, which is so long I'm thinking of posting it in two parts!

Chapter 24: Impressions

"Just come in! You can't go back to the common room like this!"

Draco froze in the middle of plucking an apple from the fruit bowl in the kitchen, his frown at Isabelle's insistence that this was where they belonged fixed onto his face as he listened to the exchange that seemed to be happening in the doorway to the corridor. The voice had been Isabelle's but it was now joined by another he didn't recognise. Female, high, and frantic sounding, filled with shed and unshed tears.

"I can't go in there. What if he's there? He could have been the one to do it for all we know!" The exclamation was accompanied by a fresh round of sobbing and Draco's heart froze in his chest. Something had obviously happened to the girl – something for which he could potentially be blamed, which meant the Death Eaters were responsible and that meant something very bad indeed. There was a rather frustrated sound from Isabelle, though when she spoke she sounded as if she were trying to keep her voice calm.

"Mary, you know it wasn't him. He's been in school the whole time."

"That's not the point." The voice sounded on the verge of hysteria. "He's still one of them. What if it was his father? What if he already knows? What if he laughs?"

"He wouldn't laugh." Isabelle's voice was sharp, sharp enough that the hysterical sobs paused in surprise. Draco could picture the other girl looking at Isabelle incredulously, and he found his heart thawing slightly at her defence of him even if he didn't know what he was being accused of.

"Please, just come in." Isabelle was taking a softer tone now. "Look, he isn't even here." There was a brief pause, probably whilst Mary inspected the evidence of his absence and Isabelle added. "And his door's open so he isn't in his room. He's probably in his common room. Just sit down. I'll make you some tea."

Apparently this was enough to get Mary over the threshold and Draco heard Isabelle guide her to the sofa.

"Wait here," she instructed, though she didn't get more than two steps towards the kitchen before a frantic voice called,

"What if he comes back?"

There was a sigh, but then he heard Isabelle muttering something too quietly for him to hear. He wondered whether he should put in an appearance. Part of him wanted to. He was severely tempted to just walk out and sneer at the girl, because who the hell was she to accuse him of anything? He didn't though, simply because he had a feeling that if he did Isabelle would never forgive him.

"There," he heard Isabelle say eventually, "I've raised the wards and changed the password, even if he comes back he won't be able to get in."

The girl must have been satisfied because there was the rustle of parchment and then she said, "Read the letter."

Isabelle's footsteps retreated back to the sofa and Draco heard her sit down. He took the opportunity to extract his wand and perform a non-verbal silencing spell on the kitchen, enabling him move without the danger of being overheard. With that done he sank down into one of the kitchen chairs and dropped his head into his hands, hoping that they didn't stay here too long but resigning himself to just waiting it out.

He heard Mary start sobbing quietly again as Isabelle read the letter and he figured she must have finished it when she drew in a deep breath and said quietly, "So it's not certain then. She might still be alive?"

The sobbing increased and Draco pressed his hands into his eyes as the conversation continued, Mary mostly sobbing, Isabelle attempting to offer what comfort she could. He established, from what he could hear now they had both dropped their voices, that Mary's muggle born mother had disappeared from her place of hiding and was very probably dead at the hands of the Death Eaters. The news had just arrived, in the form of a letter from her father.

Now quite glad he hadn't revealed his presence Draco sat and tortured himself with imaginings of how he would feel if that were his own mother, and for the first time in his life felt a stirring of sympathy for someone other than himself.

It was nearly fifteen minutes later when he heard Isabelle rise again with the renewed idea of making her friend a cup of tea to calm her nerves. A moment later she appeared in the kitchen and was halfway across the room before she noticed Draco sitting there.

"Shit!" Her exclamation was thankfully undetectable in the living area thanks to his silencing spell. "What the fuck are you doing here?" She didn't sound annoyed, just surprised.

Draco looked at her petulantly. "Thanks for locking me out," he said dryly, trying out an amused smile just to see how she would react. She did return it, although then her face turned more serious.

"Why didn't you come out?"

"I didn't think it would be appropriate given the fact that I was obviously the last person she wanted to see," he said wryly, standing up and placing a hand on Isabelle's shoulder. She had the red eyes of someone who hadn't exactly been crying, but who had been on the verge of it for a while and was reaching their emotional limit. "Are you ok?" he asked softly.

She collapsed into his arms with a muffled sob, though from the stillness of her body as he wrapped her in a tight embrace he didn't think she'd actually started crying. All the same he stroked her hair and made soothing noises until she pulled away and looked up at him, confirming his belief that she was a lot stronger emotionally than she actually looked.

"Thank you," she breathed softly. He couldn't imagine what for. For the hug? "For staying in here," she added, as if reading the question in his eyes. He shrugged, because he really didn't know how else to reply to that.

"I don't know what to say to her to make it better," she admitted finally after a pause. He shook his head at that, hoping she wasn't expecting his advice because he was no bloody good at things like this and the situation was so fucked up he had no idea if it even could be made better.

"You're a good person Isabelle, you'll think of something" was what he finally went with, smoothing her hair back from her slightly flushed cheeks. She gave a humourless laugh.

"Really?" she said, "Because last time I checked I had cheated on my boyfriend with you. Then I had sex with you whilst a different ex-boyfriend was in the next room. Also I've spent the entire year lying to everyone about what's really going on with you. Oh, and my dad thinks I'm a virgin. There might be a good person in this room Draco, but it's certainly not me."

The enormity of her words took a moment to sink in, and then Draco blurted out, "I'm not a good person, Isabelle."

"No," she said simply, "But you do a very good impression of one sometimes."

He shook his head and pressed a kiss to her forehead because he could think of nothing to say.

"I need to make tea," Isabelle said finally, drawing away from his embrace. He nodded this time and released her, going back to sit down at the table as she busied herself with the cups and teabags.

She left the room carrying the finished tea without further comment, but a moment later she was back, placing a book down on the table next to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"I don't know how long she'll be here," she said quietly, sounding apologetic, "And this is the only book I could get my hands on without her seeing, but I want you to know I'm grateful that you're doing this." She raised her wand and cast a non-verbal spell at the kitchen door. "I'm blocking out the noise from the living room," she explained in response to his raised eyebrows, "If she carries on the way she has been doing you don't need to hear it."

He nodded, dropping his head and feeling inexplicably shit about life, until Isabelle tilted his chin up and kissed him. It was just like the kisses they shared after sex, and in fact it was the first time they'd shared a proper kiss outside sex, but it made Draco's world a little bit brighter and he was glad for it.

At the end of the kiss she left without another word and Draco waited a few minutes to see if her spell was working before he pulled the book towards him and started to read.

It was called Persuasion and the plot mostly seemed to consist of a woman who'd given up the love of her life based on her father's dislike of her suitor, followed by quite a lot of anxiety on her part when said suitor unexpectedly walked back into her life and she realised she had made a terrible mistake in listening to her father in the first place. It was ridiculously sappy and not half so amusing as the other book he'd read, but it was all he had to entertain him so he read it anyway and with the taste of Isabelle's kiss till lingering on his lips, had to admit he wasn't entirely oblivious to the parallels with his own situation.

Except obviously, he wasn't in love with Isabelle.

It was over an hour later when he heard a tentative voice from the living room calling his name. Isabelle had obviously removed her spell to block out all sound from there, which meant Mary must have left.

"Oh thank Merlin." Draco shot out the kitchen, completely ignoring a rather surprised Isabelle as he ran for the bathroom. He could hear her giggling as he used the toilet and washed his hands, but when he came out again she was collapsed on the sofa and all trace of amusement had gone.

He joined her there, lifting up her bare feet so he could sit down and placing them back in his lap afterwards. She looked exhausted and even more emotionally drained than she had in the kitchen; her skin pale and eyes rimmed red. Draco didn't know what to say to make it better, so for now he said nothing.

Neither of them spoke for a long time until eventually on impulse he picked up one of her feet and examined it more closely.

"You have the tiniest feet I've ever seen," he said quietly, poking experimentally at the sole of her foot.

"Draco!" She jerked her foot out of his hand and he realised he'd probably tickled her. Undeterred he pulled it back onto his lap and poked at her toes.

"How on earth do you even manage to walk on these things?" he mused, pulling at her littlest toe, which in his opinion was ridiculously small.

"Stop it, Draco!" There was just the tiniest hint of amusement in her voice now and Draco reached down, lifting her easily into his arms and sliding her onto his lap. As always she curled up there and let him hold her as he dropped soft kisses onto the top of her head.

"Are you ok, sweetheart?" he asked quietly after a while. There was a pause before she nodded slightly.

"Do you want to go to bed?" He couldn't think of anything else to say. Moments like this were not his forte, though he'd be damned if he would admit he hadn't got a single clue what to do.

To his relief there was another nod and Draco lifted her easily, carrying her through to her bedroom where he stripped her to her underwear and tucked her under the covers. He hesitated then for a second, kneeling down besides the bed and stroking her hair softly, watching her carefully. She opened her eyes and smiled, another of those rare, genuine smiles that made his heart pound just a little bit harder. He made a decision.

A few moments later, now dressed only in his boxers, he slipped into bed behind her and pulled her back against his chest, wrapping her carefully in his arms and holding on tight.

Really it was too early to go to bed, but it was warm and comfortable, and Isabelle's soft skin was so soothing that it didn't take him long to fall asleep.

"Fuck! Harder Draco. Harder. Fuck! Yes. Right there. Harder!"

Draco gripped the headboard more tightly and carried on slamming his hips into Isabelle's as hard and fast as he could, groaning with the effort and with the sheer unbelievable pleasure that was threatening to explode inside him. Isabelle was underneath him, her legs wrapped high around his torso as he pounded into her. It was far too hard already, but Isabelle was crying out for more, and though they were skirting that dangerous line between pain and pleasure there was so much glorious warmth and friction that Draco could no more have resisted her pleas than he could cease to breathe.

They both needed this after yesterday.

"Fuck Draco! Fuck, fuck!" Isabelle all but screamed as her back arched off the bed and her muscles clenched tight. Draco lost his rhythm as his own orgasm crashed over him like a tsunami, but he kept thrusting, his muscles spasming and contracting as his climax seemed to go on and on, and Isabelle writhed underneath him, her muscles squeezing until he had nothing left and he collapsed down on top of her, panting hard.

"Fuck!" Isabelle jerked underneath him and then her mouth was on his, kissing him frantically, her tongue pushing against his lips until he parted them and responded to her desperate kisses. He latched an arm around her back, rolling her over on the bed and raking a hand through her hair as she grabbed at his, tugging so hard it hurt.

They were desperate, frantic, pushing their own limits as their lungs burned from lack of oxygen and they still kept kissing until Draco could hold on no longer and he broke away sucking in a noisy lungful of air and watching Isabelle with wild eyes as she gasped beneath him.

He kissed her again. Still firmly, but with less desperation this time, and she responded, kissing him with such emotion that Draco felt half frightened by the sheer force of it, though he could no more have stopped this than he could have stopped earlier. The kiss carried on, becoming gentler and softer until finally it stalled and Draco dropped a final peck on her lips before pulling away.

Isabelle sighed and dropped her forehead against his with a contented whimper.

"Draco," she murmured after a few moments of comfortable silence, "Will you please tell me how the bloody hell I'm supposed to give this up?" Draco's breath caught in his throat and he realised that he had no answer for that because he had no bloody idea how he was going to give this up himself. Life without this, without Isabelle, was not something he wanted to think about right now.

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and for one awful moment fighting the urge to cry, until Isabelle sighed again, dropped a kiss onto his lips and cuddled against him, the hand in his hair now stroking soothingly and chasing away that weird rush of emotion. He settled, lulled into calmness by her presence, wrapping his arms tightly around her and swearing in that moment that he would not let go until he had no other choice.