AUTHOR'S NOTE:

As I explained at the beginning of last chapter, this chapter underwent a big revision, adding new content and changing a few details (dates, specifically).

This is the long-anticipated confrontation scene that leads towards the goal of reconciliation, dear readers. As I explained on my blog (rzzmg . wordpress . com), I'm a big proponent of happily-ever-after Dramione. If you read most of my stories, you'll know that. But, the path to get there isn't always neat and clean. People make mistakes. It's human nature. But in the end, they usually come out better for it, as the mistakes force them to change, to grow and to reinvent facets of themselves. In Draco and Hermione's cases, those changes are essential to them letting go of their pasts and their hang-ups, so they can build a future for themselves, individually and together. Their switch - both of them - is their ultimate salvation.

Please review & let me know your thoughts!

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The Ministry of Magic
London, England
November 27-28, 2003 – Thursday Late Afternoon to Friday night

My days were beginning to blur because my sleep was all off, my head felt full of wool, and my work performance wasn't up to par as a result. I knew it, but worse, my boss knew it. I'd taken a humiliating dressing-down from him first thing this morning, and spent the day huddled in my office working extra hard to catch up. Now, here it was nearing four o'clock, and I'd been crammed behind my desk since seven-thirty this morning, and I needed to stretch my legs.

A fifteen minute break wouldn't hurt, right?

Locking my door behind me with a negligent wave of my wand, I scuttled to the lift at the end of the hall, determined to head up to the new cafeteria on the top floor. The recent addition to the Ministry had been completed just this past February at the behest of many on staff, who worked long hours and often couldn't take time to leave the building for a bite to eat. The food wasn't so wonderful (hence my usual preference for Muggle or Diagon Alley restaurants, if I didn't bring my own lunch), but right now, I needed some caffeine and a little energy, and I didn't have the time to spare to take a jaunt off the premises.

Stepping out into the Atrium, I headed past the Fountain of Magical Brethren (restored to its former glory after the war), and continued through the open double doors at the end. The corridor branched off - one hallway leading towards the General Registry Office and the Minister and his support staff's offices, while the other headed towards the newly built cafeteria.

Just as I stepped through, intending to go right, a flash of platinum blond hair coming towards me from the left caught my peripheral vision. I turned my head-

-and met the startled grey gaze that had haunted my dreams for months.

Malfoy was leaving the Senior Undersecretary's office and heading towards the exit - towards me. His pace slowed as we recognized each other, but then sped up as he closed in, and there was a determined glint in his eye for a confrontation with me.

I turned on my heel and headed back the way I'd come, moving fast to avoid him, my heart in my throat. Feeling as worn down as I was, I just knew I wouldn't be able to stomach the thought of faking a hearty 'congratulations' on his upcoming nuptials.

And just my luck, a group of wizard and witch tourists were in from Asia, gathered as a large mass (complete with miniature coloured flags to designate groups) smack in the middle of the Atrium, blocking the whole front of the fountain area. I swerved to go around, and that's when he caught my arm.

"Granger, wait," he growled, his touch sending everything in my body into a tizzy.

I slipped out of his grasp, but he must have seen it coming, because he managed to reacquire his hold - firmer this time, and around my wrist rather than my upper arm - and pull me after him as he turned us about and headed back down the quiet corridor of the Minister's office area.

"Let me go!" I hissed under my breath, attempting to tug free without making a scene.

He said nothing, directing us towards the closest private space - the women's loo. Once inside, he let me go, but he also effectively blocked the door with his big body, making escape impossible.

"Who is he?" he demanded before I could even open my mouth. "This American." He said the last word with the patented sneer I remembered so well from our childhood.

My jaw unhinged with incredulity, hanging for a moment before I clamped it shut. "That is none of your business. I'm not your girlfriend, remember?" I was the bitter one now, spooning out a little vindictive pleasure by throwing his words back in his teeth. It was petty and awful of me, but I was hurting and wanted to punish him. "Congratulations are in order, I hear. You snagged a pure-blood trophy for your arm - good for you. Your parents and friends will be happy, I'm sure."

He stared at me with so much anger that I felt my stomach drop into my toes.

To my utter mortification, tears flooded my eyes. I wanted out of there pronto before I broke down into a sobbing mass of pathetic goo at his feet. "Now let me by, please. I have work to do."

He menacingly pointed a finger at me. "Don't try to make yourself out the innocent victim here. You're the one who walked out on me, remember? I tried-" He cut himself off, running a hand through his hair in frustration, clearly struggling for words. "You told me to let you go, for fuck's sake! You didn't even want to talk about it. You just... ran away."

I barked a laughed and it sounded bitchy even to my ears. "What was there to talk about, Draco? You don't want a commitment with me, and I don't want a relationship without a commitment. There is no middle-ground there."

Resolutely he shook his head. "You threw the idea at me without giving me time to even think of a proper response! I'm not a bloody Gryffindor, you know. I don't jump head-first into any situation. I'm Slytherin. I look at things from all angles first." He began pacing back and forth in short strides, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. "It's only where you're concerned that I seem to find myself behaving so irrationally! You drive me absolutely spare, Granger. You always have!" Leaning against the wall, he rested his head back and closed his eyes, exhaling a deep breath. "You've turned my whole world upside down in only a few months. I never… expected you."

My heart slammed under my ribs, and I swallowed twice to try to coat my dry mouth with moisture. "What are you saying?"

He stared at me through half-lidded eyes in contemplation, his roaming gaze taking me in from head to toe, causing a familiar, lusty heat to sear through my veins. I felt my cheeks stain crimson and my knickers dampen with anticipation.

The Senior Undersecretary walked in at just that moment.

I could have killed the woman.

"Oh, my! Mr. Malfoy, what are you doing in here? I must ask you to please vacate the women's bathroom immediately," she admonished, staring at him above the rim of her bird-thin bifocals.

Kicking off the wall, he accepted the chastisement with grace. "I apologize, Ms. Marchbanks." His eyes returned to me. "Shall we?" he indicated the door, expecting me to walk out with him.

I excused myself as well, feeling quite humiliated at being caught in such a juvenile position by a senior member of staff. My face was pinked now for a different reason altogether, and I quietly, meekly followed Draco back into the hallway, hoping word of this confrontation didn't get back to my boss.

Malfoy took up pace at my side all the way to the lifts, as I prepared to go back to my office, caffeine and sugar needs temporarily forgotten. "We're not done talking," he murmured in my ear as we waited side-by-side, close enough to touch or hold hands if we'd wanted to. His hot breath tickled my hairline, making me shiver.

I wanted to rub against him and shove his hand up my skirt.

"Oh, Miss Granger, I'm glad I caught you!"

My boss. Great. Could this get any more complicated?

He waved to catch my attention from behind the group of people exiting a lift and I halfheartedly waved back, plastering a politic smile upon my features. Gawain Robards was a difficult man to like in general, being overly suspicious and blunt to the point of rudeness. Harry didn't even like him, and he got along with most of the new Ministry appointees.

"Good evening, Mr. Robards," I politely greeted him as he marched up to me.

His gaze took in everything - including Malfoy standing somewhere behind and to my left. "I left a stack of folders on your desk along with a set of precise instructions. I'm going to need you to get the list done by tomorrow morning, before ten. It's a very important case - urgent and-" He pointedly looked at Draco over my shoulder again. "-it's a most sensitive matter that requires the utmost in privacy." He gave me a flat, serpentine smile. "I know you understand what that requires and will have what I need on-time."

With that, he walked towards the Floos, guaranteeing me a long night sitting at my desk, reading… and no time whatsoever to continue my discussion with Malfoy.

Resigned, I headed towards an open lift, stopping Draco as he made to follow. "You heard him," I sighed. "I'm already not in a good place with my boss right now. If I want to keep my job, this discussion will have to wait."

The bronze gate closed between us. "Owl me," he recklessly requested, his face a mask of regret for this missed chance.

I didn't even get a chance to reply before the main door shut, and the lift moved.

All the way back to my office, I debated the wisdom of doing as he asked. Should I send him a letter, and if so, what more could I say that hadn't already?

I was still arguing the issue with myself at the close of business the next day, the parchment I'd pulled to write the letter sitting blankly on my desk, untouched by ink and waiting for inspiration.

X~~~~~X

Diagon Alley
London, England
December 6, 2003 – Saturday Afternoon

I left Flourish & Blotts with a solid month's worth of reading material in hand (all of my pre-orders had finally come in), and headed back down The Alley towards The Leaky Cauldron to Floo home.

For the last week my mind had been turning over the words to the letter I'd not yet written to Malfoy about our predicament, throwing away suggestions left and right, unsatisfied with every option for the tone and how to address the topics I felt were pertinent for us to discuss. A tiny part of me knew I was delaying the inevitable because I was afraid of him rejecting me again. I wasn't sure how much my heart could take of this up and down game we were playing. Was this roller-coaster of pain really worth it? Was he?

As I rushed on my way, my attention partially diverted by my deliberation of the problem, I literally bumped into someone standing in my path hard enough to send me back several steps and for me to drop everything in my arms. "Oh! I'm sorry!" I profusely apologized, not realising exactly whom I'd collided with, too concerned with my spilled books lying on the slushy cobblestone street. I scuttled to get them up and to assess the damage.

A familiar pale hand held one of my purchases out to me. I paused, mesmerized for a moment by those well-manicured fingers, and the tactile memory of them touching me had my body unexpectedly reacting. I swallowed my inappropriate feelings and took the book from him, careful not to touch in passing. "Thank you," I murmured and regained my height, knees cracking like icicles in the cold weather.

There was no helping it - I'd have to look at him, wouldn't I? But why was I suddenly so apprehensive to do so?

Because, the voice of logic and reason in my head niggled, here stands the object of your greatest torment.

Gathering my courage, I glanced up… and was transported back in time to September, to a suite overlooking Hyde Park, and a pair of glimmering, silver eyes that watched me with such tenderness as we moved in gentle tandem towards the common goal of both giving and receiving pleasure…

All breath was stolen from me and all of my bluster evaporated. In that moment, there was only him, looking at me with a longing so poignant, that it teetered on the edge of irrational. We didn't speak, just stared with all of the yearning of star-crossed love.

"I…I…"

I had a million things to say -why are you looking at me like that? why is this so hard? why must I have to convince you to love me? why are you marrying her?- but nothing came out. My brain whirled around and around. I was so very tired all of the sudden, as the events of the past year caught up to me. I'd burned my candle at both ends between Ron and Malfoy and Daniel and work, and I realised in that moment that I didn't want to fight anymore. I didn't want to have to rail against the world to get what I needed. I was done bashing my head against desks and walls.

It took a cold breeze rushing through the Alley, forcing me to turn aside for the magic to break.

"Excuse me," I brushed past him, clutching my books to my chest for safety, as if they could ward away the hurt that even then was constricting my chest.

I got as far as Potage's Cauldron Shop before Draco grabbed and pulled me between the very narrow opening separating it from the brick wall of The Leaky Cauldron, and bore down on me, determination marking every step and fueling the glint in his steely eyes. I backed up and held my purchases between us at all times, a symbolic separator. "What do you think you're doing?" I hissed in shock and growing ire, valiantly making a last stand. "This can't go on! You're engaged!"

"And you're shagging the American," he countered, his voice a growling displeasure.

I wasn't anymore, but he didn't need to know that. "Like I said before, that's none of your business!"

Great return-serve there, I know, but it was all I could think to say.

My back hit the far wall, and I was effectively trapped with only a small space to squeeze through to make good an escape. Draco's arms shot out and caged me and he leaned his nose down to mine, refusing to let me look anywhere but at him. "Tell me, Granger, how much does your Muggle know about you?"

I huffed, clinging to righteous indignation for a shield. "If you're referring to being a witch, nothing. We'd only started seeing each other, and the law is very specific about such things."

His eyes dipped to the vee of my jumper and I knew he could spy a bit of cleavage from his angle. "That's not what I mean." His lips hovered over mine, buzzing them slightly as he spoke to me in a low, velvety-smooth tone that made things inside my womb flip about. "How much does he really know you? Does he know that you can get drenching wet simply by being softly stroked on the back of your knee, or that you moan low in your throat when you've reached your best orgasm of the night?" His nose traveled feather-light over my cheek, and he turned his head so the sides of our faces were pressed together and his lips rested over my ear. "Have you twirled that naughty tongue of yours around his prick and sucked him so deep that you made him lose all control? Has he licked between your thighs and told you that it's the sweetest cream he's ever tasted? Does he love working his cock into you and hearing those adorable whimpers you make? Has he undressed you a piece at a time, simply for the pleasure of watching your expression change? Does he know you like that - like I do, Hermione?"

"S-stop this," I gasped at his provocative descriptions of our time together, closing my eyes against the rising need. He smelled the same as I remembered: an enticing blend of almond-scented soap, the black suede of his aftershave, and his body's natural musk. My legs started shaking, and my heart pounded in my mouth. "I-It's over between us."

With a gliding roll of his hips, he rubbed his thick, covered erection against my belly and groaned against my neck with desire. Against my will, one of my hands reached out and gripped the fabric of his shirt over his left pectoral, and my hips rose to meet his, cradling him in the correct spot against my mons. He sighed with longing. "I miss you, sweet thing. Gods, I fuckingmiss you! You're all I think about. I can't work, I can't sleep…" He brushed his lips against my cheek. "Enough of this stupidity! I want you back."

His lips pressed against my throat, once, twice, and then he was suckling and grinding against me. I tried to recall why this was such a bad idea. I may not be with Daniel anymore, but there was still Astoria in the picture… "We can't do this," I murmured, but even then, my damnable body had a mind of its own. My hand pulled him in tighter, and I met his forceful pelvic slide across my jeans with my own. "A-Astoria and you-"

"Tell me the truth, Hermione: could you fall in love with him?" he interrupted, his voice tortured. His breath was wisps of white cloud on the chilled air as his mouth drifted over my jaw and chin, peppering small kisses. "Could you marry him even knowing he doesn't know who you really are and that you want someone else?"

I bit my bottom lip until it bled trying to hold back my tears, but it was a useless endeavour. He'd unmade me again. "I could ask you the same," I whispered, broken-hearted knowing he was going to do exactly that with a malicious, spiteful woman who clearly saw him as little more than a means to an end.

A voice at the end of the narrow strip called down to us. "Oi, a'right down there?"

I peeked under Malfoy's arm. "Patrolling Hit Wizard," I sighed. They'd been a mainstay since the war ended assuring the Alley remained free of undesirables, especially those near the Knockturn. Draco tensed. He couldn't afford to get into trouble with the law again, and he knew that what I said about what we were doing down here might very well land him in prison if I claimed harassment.

I pressed a hand over his arm, and he dropped it to his side and turned so I could wave off the man at the end of our tiny private space. "We were talking," I explained in an even tone, and it technically wasn't a lie. "We're done now."

The Hit Wizard looked between us, the red cloak of his office (in direct contrast to the green the Aurors wore) opened enough for me to see that he had his wand in hand, and was tapping it against a thigh in consideration. Finally, he motioned for us to come out. "Right, well, move along. The Alley here's a family-oriented enterprise. We'll not be havin' anythin' ta tarnish the reputation, yeah?"

It was clear he'd understood the situation and was giving us a pass and a warning. I nodded, wiped my tears away and unsteadily pressed past Malfoy, heading out of the small space, back out onto the street. "Sorry," I contritely apologized to the officer, and he tipped his head in acceptance, but stayed to make sure we did as he required.

I didn't look back at my ex-lover as I quickly headed through the wall into The Leaky Cauldron, nor as I grabbed some Floo powder and stepped into the hearth. My hand was violently shaking as I threw the green crystals to my feet and call out for home.

X~~~X

Hermione Granger's Flat
Camden, London, England
December 6-7, 2003 – Saturday Afternoon (seconds later) to Sunday night

I dropped everything the second I arrived at my flat, stumbled towards the closest piece of furniture I could find – the sofa – fell back into it and worked my jeans and knickers off in a hurry. With desperate need, I shoved two fingers deep and hard into myself and began pumping them in and out to the memories of doing all of the things Draco had murmured in my ear. I also recalled the way he'd felt rubbing against me today and the scent of his rich, coffee-scented breath. I came so hard I screamed his name loud enough to scare Crookshanks under the bed.

I repeated the experience a second time an hour later, again in the shower before bed, and even woke up in the middle of the night and masturbated a fourth time (no screaming this time, so as not to wake my neighbors and to keep Crooks from deciding I'd finally lost my marbles and it was time to find a better-adjusted owner). I was insatiable, as if Malfoy had doused me in lust potion, but I knew better – this was all me and my enduring, obsessive feelings for him.

Awake, I made my way over to my writing desk and pulled out a piece of parchment. For three hours, I scribbled out every thought, every feeling, every hope I had for Draco. I got it all out and down on paper. This was my last confession to him. Either it worked its magic, or we were done. I wasn't going to put my heart out there for him if I was rejected again.

Later that morning, I went to Diagon Alley to the post and sent the note to Malfoy Manor via owl. After that, I went to The Burrow to find Gin. On the bank of the small lake near her house, we had lunch together and talked and filled up the day with senseless fun to distract me so I wouldn't go insane waiting on a reply.

That night, when I Apparated home, there was no owl waiting for me with a return letter. I'd promised Gin that I'd give Draco three days to reply (she'd insisted that I not assume anything, and to give him a bit of time to respond before making any form of judgment), so I went to bed trying to squash my disappointment.

I said a little prayer in hope, though, before succumbing to the Sandman's influence. A little help from Above never hurt.

TO BE CONTINUED…