Disclaimer: Meh. I have to give back these characters once I'm done. –sniff-

Chapter 19 // The Pain

He grimaced as she was sliding her hands along his head, trying to get his hair to co-operate.

"Now I get why you used to slick it down all the time," she noted, letting her arms fall to her sides just to watch his hair turn messy again.

"It's a right pain," he agreed, shaking his head slightly to get it to move. "But I'm just going to see Steve and Al; I doubt they mind that my hair is messy."

"It kind of looks better like this, anyway, I suppose" she admitted unwillingly, making him grin. "It looks effortless."

"Which is kind of ironic considering the effort you put in to get it to not behave like this."

She laughed shortly, handing him his tailored black jacket. Her lips were pulled into a smile as she watched him put it on, messing his hair up even further.

"Have fun with the guys."

"I will," he promised, leaning in to give her a quick kiss. "We're invited for dinner at Miranda's tomorrow, so don't go inviting Freckles and Sorbet over."

She rolled her eyes and tried desperately to keep back a chuckle.

"I'll keep the afternoon clear," she said before she pushed him against the door. "You're going to be late. I'll see you tonight."

She waved him off before heading into the kitchen, trying to find out if there was anything she needed to head to the shop for. Opening the fridge, she found it about half full, noting that she was out of milk at least. She found a post it note and a pen and started scribbling down what she needed in an untidy scrawl. It was as she was as she closed the door that she heard definite footsteps coming from the other room. She looked up in confusion, not seeing anyone, but assumed it was Draco coming back for something he forgot.

"Draco, back so soon?" she asked loudly, writing salad as the last thing on her grocery list.

No one answered, but she felt someone watching her and she looked up in confusion. She dropped her pen with a loud thud.

"Molly?!"

"Hey, dear," the Weasley mother said softly, looking almost pained. "It's been so long!"

Hermione didn't know what to say. Heck, she didn't know what to feel. It really had been long, but it was a reason for that, after all.

"We have missed you dearly, Hermione," she said, sounding choked.

She seemed to hold herself back, rooted to the spot by the door into the kitchen. Her mild eyes swept over Hermione as she stood, holding her post it note feebly in one hand.

"You look well."

"I feel well," Hermione forced herself to reply, her mouth feeling oddly dry. "It's been very good for me up here."

"Yes, Ginny said you were doing well," the older woman said. "I'm sorry ... – if I'm intruding. I've spent days persuading Harry to give me your address, and he finally caved. I see this has done you good, but I couldn't take it anymore. I can't let you hide from your life anymore because of what my son did to you."

"Molly..."

"- No, listen, please," Molly interrupted intensely. "You have a job. You have friends and a life, and now that you're doing so well, you need to come back. The more you let yourself run, the further you'll slip away from your life. If you let this go any further, it'll just get harder to come back."

"I'm coming back," Hermione assured her with a slightly forced smile, and then wondered why she wasn't even convincing herself.

"I know you want to come back, but I also know it's not easy. The longer you stay, the harder it will get. You need to come back now. You need to come back when you're strong and feel good about yourself, so you have the strength to face it all."

"I..I'm not... ready," Hermione said, the last coming as almost a whisper.

"I think you are. Look at you. You look healthier than ever, happy, strong. If there's any time to go back, it's now when you can show the world that you're doing just fine. And we miss you. Fred and George constantly ask about you, there's always an empty seat at our dinners, and no matter that you're no longer with Ron you're still a part of us," Molly exclaimed, taking several steps closer. "Don't run away from us. We've been your family for so long!"

"I know, and I miss you terribly. I do."

Hermione felt the tears forming, but she wasn't entirely sure why. A horrible thought growing in force kept telling her that Molly was right. She couldn't stay here forever, and if there was any time to come back it was when she was on top of the world. And to say that she wasn't ready was a lie, because in all honest truth there was only one thing keeping her from going. And the thought of leaving that one thing was forcing more tears forward.

"I have to admit something," Molly said, now putting her hand comfortingly around Hermione. "I sent you that issue of the Prophet."

When Hermione jolted in disgust and was about to wriggle free from her grip, Molly hurried to explain.

"I know it sounds horrible, but I wanted to help you get over it and face the truth. When you ran off, you ran away from what happened and what the realities were. And the realities are that my son is more cold-hearted than I care to admit. He moved on, and you should too. It was to help you understand that you had to leave him behind you, in more sense than just running across the country."

Hermione nodded feebly, knowing that in some strange way it had helped. It was what had made her open up to Draco, what started her process of healing. The thought of Draco pushed more tears coming, and Molly eyed her in worry.

"I have people here now," Hermione explained in a hushed voice. "People that I care about and have a life with. I don't know what to do."

"Do you want to go home?" Molly asked softly.

"I do. I never planned to stay here, and I still don't," she sniffed, drying her nose inelegantly on the sleeve of her shirt.

"Then maybe it's better to leave now, than to grow even closer to them before you have to leave," Molly suggested. "It's not my decision. If you want to stay, you can, but I had to come here and tell you all this. We miss you terribly, and you have a job you will lose if you don't return soon. And you're just making it harder for yourself by staying here so long."

Hermione screwed her eyes shut, knowing Molly was absolutely right. It was pain beyond anything she had felt before, but she had to go. It was only prolonging the suffering – for the both of them – to stay here as if the day of separation would never come. They were pretending to be the happy couple, almost living together as it was, and they both knew that was impossible as the situation was.

"Thank you, Molly," she whispered, "I appreciate you telling me what I needed to hear. I know that I'm hiding and making everything worse for me – for us both."

Molly didn't question who both were, but seemed to sense that it wasn't a wise thing to pursue. Instead she hugged Hermione tightly.

"Tell me what you decide to do. I will help you with whatever you need," she told her, holding Hermione's gaze. "Good luck."

Hermione watched her back as she headed back into the living room and disappeared through the floo.

Hours later she was pacing back and forth in her own living room, having no idea what to do to ease the decision she had to make. Of course she knew Molly was right. She had to leave at some point. It was never her plan to stay here and the longer she stayed the more she lulled herself and Draco into comfortable ideas about living together that just weren't going to happen. He was set on staying here and she was set on going back to a new flat and her job in London. But it was so damn hard. She cursed herself as she used the palm of her hand to dry a lone tear.

Knowing it was the hardest and perhaps most stupid decision she had ever made – and was ever going to make, she headed up the stairs to her room. Slowly and almost unwillingly she lowered her suitcase onto the bed and put her clothes in one by one. She watched her belongings dive into the suitcase on their own accord under her spell, and couldn't help but compare it to the day she left Ron. The contrast was huge. She wasn't screaming or throwing her belongings into the suitcase. She wasn't angry or hurt. Instead, she was going to leave someone else angry and hurt, while her heart was so close to splitting in two she could already feel the dull ache starting to grow. And she hadn't even seen him yet.

That's when she knew she couldn't face him before she left. She had to go before he came back, or she didn't know if she could take it. Using her wand, she forced the last few items into it and closed the lid, clicking it shut. She dragged it down from the bed and began her descent of the staircase. Looking around, the place looked nearly as neat as it should have, but she decided to owl Miranda and ask if she could be so kind as to tidy up a bit before she gave the house over again. She couldn't very well hand it back if it still looked inhabited by her. She put the suitcase down on the floor, and sat down on it with a large sigh. Everything had seemed so much easier here. So many parts of her didn't want to leave, and she felt tears gathering behind her eyelids again. Knowing it wouldn't get any easier if she stayed here sitting on her suitcase, she got up and made her way to the floo.

Luck wasn't with her. The moment she put the suitcase down by the fireplace, she heard footsteps and a door slamming shut. She cursed in despair and looked around for the floo powder in desperation, knowing she couldn't see the look on his face as she left.

"I'm back," he called, and she heard him coming closer just as she found the bag with the powder. "Merlin, those guys are insane, but they sure as hell make things interesting."

It was too late. She couldn't get away. She watched him stop dead right inside her living room, staggering slightly. He had been drinking, but she noticed he wasn't drunk, just slightly tipsy. His mouth had fallen slightly open, his cheeks flushed from his alcohol induced state. His eyes fell to the suitcase by her feet, moving upwards to the bag of floo powder in her hand and finally finding her pained expression. She screwed her eyes shut, not wanting to see the pain flood his gorgeous gray eyes.

"What...the hell, Hermione," he growled, his voice cutting through her every bone.

"Draco, I didn't want-"

"You didn't want me to find you, is that it? You were just going to leave without a bloody word?!"

She buried her head in her hands, fighting the urge to fall to the floor as a sobbing mess.

"I don't want to say goodbye. I can't do this. I can't see you."

She was babbling, continuing to mutter how she couldn't face him.

"You couldn't wait? You couldn't wait a couple of lousy days before you picked up and left?" he asked with a quivering voice. "We've been doing perfectly. Lola's been off my back. Her mother thinks I dropped her cause she managed to blind herself with white wine, and I've just grown used to Freckles and Sorbet. Why did you have to do this now?"

"Don't you get it?" she cried, finally daring to look at him again where he stood, looking lost and confused. "We're fooling ourselves. I'm not going to stay here forever, and you have no plans to leave. We would have to be separated at some point, and why wait until we've grown closer? It'll only get harder and harder, until it comes to the point where we'd be ruined when the day came.

"I already let it get too far. I waited until we'd fallen in love with each other. I waited until we started to think we could actually have a life together."

She gave a short sob, but desperately tried to keep it inside.

"Who says we can't do this together?" he bellowed, his eyes shining with anger. "You're a lousy floo call away. Face it, Hermione. You're just running away from me, like a bloody coward."

"I am not a coward," she hissed, looking furious. "Sure, for casual dating it could've worked. But you're deadly afraid of showing your face in London, so I'd never be able to take you anywhere. And what if we wanted to take it a step further? If we wanted to move in together or even get married? Should we live in different houses? Face it, Draco, it won't work."

"What does this say about us? That none of us will give in so we can be together? How much can you really love me if you won't even give up London to be with me?" he shouted, and Hermione felt as if he'd slapped her.

"I have a job. I can't give up my income and my career, what would I do? I don't have fortunes stacked up in Gringotts to just use as it pleases me. I need to work for a living. I have a life in London that I miss. And Merlin help me – I love you, Draco, but I can't alienate myself from my life.

"And you? What does it say about you? You don't have anything keeping you here, except your friends and Miranda. All that keeps you from coming with me is your fears. You're afraid, Draco Malfoy, just face it. Afraid of facing those you betrayed and afraid of facing those who still thinks you haven't changed. If anyone is a coward here, it sure as hell isn't me!"

He was shaking with fury now, but she couldn't care less. She was angry, hurt and scared. He could be as angry as he bloody well pleased, but she knew she was right.

"So this is it then? Those are your parting words? This is the end?"

"I suppose it is," she said in a cold voice, refusing to meet his intense gaze. "If you refuse to get your act together and come with me, this is it."

"I hope you know what you've given up on, Granger. I hope you'll lie awake at night thinking about what could've been."

The words struck her like lightening, embedding themselves in the core of her being. She wanted to scream with desperation and rage at how cruel life was, and how spot on his parting words were. Her body felt as if it was slowly decaying, and she had to get out of there before she fell apart at the seams.

"Likewise," she told him, one traitorous tear leaking free. "I hope you lie awake in your big, empty bed only finding your bloody fears to keep you company. I hope it's worth it, Draco; hiding. Maybe someday you'll find that running from your problems won't help in the long run, and you'll see why I had to go back and face mine."

His face was hard as stone – no, as marble; perfectly cut, white marble. But his eyes were as transparent as his face was closed, they shone with every ounce of grief that undoubtedly raced inside him at that point, and she felt it wash over herself at the same moment, hitting her like a well-aimed curse. She saw him blink rapidly, and knew that she could not survive seeing Draco Malfoy shed any tears for their lost relationship. That would have been the end of her.

She turned her back and took the deepest breath she could manage before heading into the fireplace, calling for Ginny and Harry's flat.

It was the second time in only a few months that she came tumbling through the floo into their living room with a suitcase in tow and a broken relationship in her wake. It was almost slightly morbid. Here she was, killing relationships left and right, and Harry and Ginny were the ones picking up the pieces for her. It was so different this time. It wasn't a sobbing, blubbering mess that came through the fireplace and stepped onto the hardwood floors. It wasn't an unbelievable pain from being rejected and betrayed. Instead, she was broken to the core of her very being. The pain was a monumental, enormous burden on her considerably small frame, too large to even comprehend. She wasn't sobbing. A few tears were breaking free as his words resonated through her head, but she was too numb – too shaken to her core to really break down.

She set her suitcase down, pushing it against the wall. Suddenly she was sitting on their couch, not even remembering how she got there. Angrily, she rubbed her tears away, wondering if the past months were going to fade away as a distant blur once she got back to her old life. Merlin, she hated her damn life and all its cruel twists and turns. She had fallen in love with Draco Bloody Malfoy and realised that things hadn't always been what they seemed, and not it had all been ripped away just because they were both too stubborn to give in. Her head suddenly jerked up as she heard someone giggle, and her face twisted into a slightly pained grimace – which was actually meant to resemble a smile – when Harry and Ginny came tumbling in from the hallway, nearly eating each other up along the way.

Ginny suddenly caught a movement from the corner of her eye and jumped in surprise, only to look horribly worried when she saw Hermione sitting on their couch, hunching forwards with her hands clasped awkwardly in her lap.

"Why did you give my damn meddling mother her address, you jerk," Ginny cried, punching Harry's arm. "Look what she's done!"

Harry gave a sad smile, not knowing what to say.

"What did she make you do? Go back to Ron? I'll kill her," Ginny growled, looking positively livid.

"She didn't make me do anything, Gin. Please, don't get angry," Hermione said tiredly, wringing her hands restlessly. "She came to talk to me, and she said all the things that have been on my mind for ages. I can't lead myself or Draco on any longer – I was always planning to come home at some point, and lately we've both been ignoring that as good as we can. We've been trying to pretend that if we were just happy enough, I would never have to leave. But I do. I have to face things sooner or later, I can't just run forever."

Ginny looked slightly less angry, but she shook her head.

"This is a mistake, Hermione. I know it is. You two are perfect for each-"

"Gin," Harry said warningly, sitting down next to Hermione and put his arm around her. "This isn't what Hermione needs to hear right now."

Ginny shook her head again and closed her eyes, looking as if she was debating herself. She seemed to have come to a conclusion, because she kept her mouth shut and sat down on the couch on the other side of Hermione. The three of them sat there in silence, until Hermione shuddered slightly from all the unshed tears.

"I didn't want to face him before I left. I tried to leave before he came home, but he caught me right before I flooed out of there. I could see how much I hurt him, and I could hardly stand it. And then we started yelling, blaming each other for our relationship failing. He called me Granger in his last words to me before I left. It's almost like it never happened."

She let out a whimper and hid her face in her hands.

"It's almost like we are still enemies, like none of this never happened," she whispered, feeling the memories fade as she spoke.

Ginny rubbed her back, and tried not to show how much she hated the turn of events.

"You can stay here until you find your own place," she assured her. "And we'll help you find an affordable flat, don't worry."

Harry helped her upstairs, and left her lying limply on her bed. She assured him she would be just fine, and he needn't stay in the room to keep her company.

He did as she wished, and left the room silently, heading back down to find Ginny pacing on the floor, looking angrier by the second.

"Gin..."

"Fuck it all!" she cried, throwing her hands up in the air. "Why did my mum have to go and put stupid thoughts in her head?!"

"It would've happened eventually anyway," he said tiredly, and fell back onto the couch with a sigh.

"She was happy, Harry. Happy! She was happier than Ron has ever made her, and she deserved it. This is a horrible mistake, and I can't just sit by and let her make it."

"I know she was happy, but she's right: how can they work when they want to live on separate parts of the country? They're both too stubborn."

"We have to fix this. I can't just sit around and let this happen."

"It's not our business, Gin."

"Oh, but it is. She's our friend, and quite frankly Draco is too. I will not let the two nitwits ruin their lives like this. We all know they're perfect for each other," she rambled, her eyes nearly setting fire to their living room with determination.

Harry gave a reluctant nod.

"Yes, they are surprisingly compatible."

"She's our friend, Harry. We can't let her stay unhappy for the rest of her life because they're too stupid to see what's right in front of them. Please, Harry, say you'll help me with this."

"Alright," he relented. "If you can find a way to help without being as meddling as your mother, I promise I'll help you."

"I am not like my mother," she said fiercely, scowling at him.

"No, not at all," he replied dryly, watching her plot how she could save Hermione's failed relationship.

A/N: I am so horribly sorry, you guys. Don't kill me :(