I have tried to spend a little time telling the parts of my story that don't pertain to Draco, but when you're in love with someone it's hard not to focus all of your stories on them, so I apologize. I haven't said enough about how I managed to escape the brunt of the Dark Lord's war on wizards all those years ago. Well, after Margo learned that Draco was a Death Eater the proximity of the upcoming trials felt a lot closer for the three of us—especially me, as I watched Draco get deeper and deeper into his 'project.' So before my parents left for America we began concocting a plan to disappear, calling it our "trip" when we mentioned it in public. The three of us girls and Margo and Charlie's families—mine already planning to escape back to the USA. We agreed not to tell anyone, which meant that I was all of a sudden doing double-duty on the lying front—to Margo and Charlie about my feelings for the Death Eater, and to Draco about my plans.

The lying was the worst part of my year at Hogwarts. The emotional side of things I was surprisingly good at, but lying to everyone I cared about felt like a betrayal. After we hid I came clean to Margo and Charlie, and I honestly don't know if I'd have managed to stay hidden away from him if I hadn't had their support. But back to my love story.

He left in the middle of the night. I woke up this time, tiredly reaching out for him to stay, but he shook his head and left noiselessly. I don't know why I expected anything different.

I woke up the second time to whispering around my bed.

"She's such a hussy!" That was Pansy. Of course.

"How do you know that? It could all be the same guy! And the shoes I saw last night were the same ones as last time!"

"I wonder who it is!"

"I bet it's Blaise!"

"No, she's smart. It must be a seventh-year, you know she has all those higher classes. Maybe Sebastian!"

"Obviously not. She could never hope to get a seventh year." Pansy again.

"Oh shut it, Pansy. I know she never let on who hit her, but you've been gunning for her since she got here. We're not dumb." I heard the door open and footsteps stomping out. The door slammed.

"It has to be a Slytherin, so which one?"

"We'll just have to watch and see which one pays the most attention to her."

"But what if they're trying to hide it. Maybe it's the one she ignores the most."

The door opened again and the voices traveled out of the room. I smiled as the door closed, laughing softly to myself, wishing I could share the joke with someone.

I went to breakfast late, one of the last people to get there. Charlie saw me walk in and sat down next to me, ignoring the looks the leftover Slytherins gave her.

"You're never late to breakfast. Is something wrong?" She stared at me until I looked down at my oatmeal.

"I'm fine. Just worrying about logistics for our trip this summer," I lied, surprised at how easily the lie came.

She sighed and rubbed my back soothingly for a second, before asking me about her Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. After we finished eating we joined Margo on her bed and enchanted a VHS I had brought from home to project onto one of the curtains (it was a spell my parents figured out, seems how my dad had muggle cousins who owned all of the Disney movies and I wanted to watch them as a kid). Her roommates inevitably showed up and begged to be allowed to watch as well, so we had a full bed of snuggles for a while. It was so comfortable and companionable, to have so many bodies all smushed together, and I remember thinking to myself, I wonder if Draco ever gets to feel this way?

I barely remember the exams before Christmas Break, but I remember staying up late in the common room writing essays across from Draco, who was pretending to read while actually keeping an eye on every male who entered. The girls had circulated their findings in an effort to catch my lover, and it had made everyone look at me with new interest, something Draco was Not Happy About. I told him he could add it to the list, along with 1) me being here, 2) me having a comfortable bed, and 3) my parents leaving me on the same side of the Atlantic with Voldemort, in another Closet Fight after three separate seventh-year boys had not-so-subtly stared at me a little too long at Monday's breakfast. When I walked out Charlie and Margo were there to ask if they needed to congratulate me on my conquest, if we had been safe (because really Grace, you do not want to raise a baby with this He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named threat), and if they could get details—though I could see how much they were hiding their real fear for me with their teasing.

The rumor had the added bonus that Draco came into my bed less often, because he was worried about someone (I still think Pansy) catching him. I started being unable to sleep, left wondering if he was gonna finally come back, or worrying that he was getting back to his own bed late at night with red eyes and noone to help. He also stopped talking to me, besides the one wayward closet-fight, which frustrated me to no end, even as we wrote essays in the common room across from each other. Apparently, he had trouble sleeping without me either.

When I passed him in the halls he looked even more haggard every time.

Confrontation came in a back hallway. I was skipping potions because I couldn't take Slughorn's simpering tones any longer, and so I had a front-row view of Draco pushing a second-year into the wall.

"Hey!" I yelled, jogging up and checking the little kid for scrapes before I told him to run off and turned to see Draco walking away. I was so angry that I ran up to him and pulled on the back of his robe, slapping his face when he turned to look at me.

"What the hell?" He glared at me, a hand over the left side of his face.

"What's your deal? That kid did nothing to you!"

"Don't try to be my conscience, Grace," he snarled, stalking forward until I was backed against the wall. "You can't stop me from doing anything. Or have you forgotten? This type of stuff is what Death Eaters do!"

"Well forgive me for thinking you still had some human decency!" I pushed against his chest but he didn't move, only smirked meanly. "Ugh, you'd think someone who eats so little would be easier to move!"

The smirk grew as he leaned his body closer to mine. "You sure you want me to move?"

I looked at his eyes but they were still empty, so I narrowed mine and retorted, "Don't think that allowing you in my bed means you know what I want."

"So you always kiss guys you don't want?" He moved another few inches closer.

"I don't kiss guys who only bait me in order to take out their anger on somebody." I ducked under his right arm only to be pulled back by the collar of my robe, the breath leaving me in an "oof!" as I hit the wall again. His hands grabbed my face, forcing me to meet his accusing eyes.

"Then why do you kiss guys?"

I stared him down for a long time, panting for breath, cheeks flushed in anger until the sting of his words worked its way to my core. My hands tangled themselves in the material at his waist, inadvertently pulling him flush against me as I sagged against the wall, closing my eyes to escape the weight of his stare. His hands moved to the back of my neck as I felt his forehead make contact with mine.

"Grace." He said my name like a prayer, and I still remember the shudder that went through me, along with the echoing one that went through him.

"Why are you always so mean during the day? Why do you want to hurt people? Where's the good in doing a special project for Voldemort if it'll just kill you? What's wrong with me that you can't treat me like I deserve respect?"

I felt a tear drop onto my cheek. Looking up in surprise I saw how tired he really was—how much more tired than I had thought. The kiss he gave me then was slow and sweet, and when it was over he whispered, "There's nothing wrong with you. There never has been."

I wouldn't let that be the last word. The next day I followed him out of breakfast in order to instigate a closet-fight. But as I walked out of the Great Hall I felt a tug on my robe and I tripped and almost fell into the arms of my quarry, who righted me and dragged me straight through Slytherin Commons to his bed, closing the curtains and casting our normal spells.

But I was not to be distracted—this was my fight, after all, and I had something to say.

"How dare you just ignore me for days? You can't glare at every male who looks my way simply because you kissed me and then act like I myself don't exist!" I huffed as I turned around after climbing onto the bed, only to be pushed down on my back as Draco starting kissing me like he never wanted to stop. Part of me wanted to argue it out, but I couldn't hold onto that part when there was kissing to be had.

He kissed like he did the first time, all desperation and worry. I met him in intensity, trying to assuage some of those feelings. His lips moved against mine, and his tongue found its way into my mouth as I gasped at the feeling of his cold hand working its way under my shirt to rest on my stomach for a second before hesitating and slipping around to my back, pulling me closer as his mouth moved to my neck.

I leaned my head back to give him more room, only to move it forward again as he worked his way up to my ear. As he lightly bit down I let out another gasp and pulled him tighter against me. Then his mouth was back on mine, and his body rolled against mine before stilling in surprise. He pulled off of me all too quickly and rolled over on his side, staring at me, flush going halfway down his neck, as he tried to catch his breath. I rolled over to match him and put my hand on his waist.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing's wrong," he replied, shaking his head and going in for another kiss.

I pulled back. "No, I mean, why are you so upset? What prompted," I gestured to us and our surroundings, "this?"

It was his turn to pull back. He moved to his back and ran a hand down his face, shaking his head.

"I don't know."

What I saw on his face stopped me from asking any more questions. For the first time I could remember Draco looked scared, of what he was discovering or what he was doing or what we were doing I couldn't say, but he was frightened of something. It was too intense of a feeling for such a small place, so I moved to hover over him, kissing away the fear—if only for a few minutes.

Hey guys... I should probably be hiding from the overripe vegetables being thrown for taking so long with this update... I promise I'm not discontinuing this fic. I love it, I really do. I'm rubbish at updating (obviously), but I'm not giving up.

Hope you liked it! Any thoughts?