A/N: Another short one. (Sorry guys, I just like it better that way. shot attention span, you know?) I decided to shake things up a little. One second you think you're here but WHOA! You're really over here. So. As always, let me know what you think. :) -ZL

Summary: In 6th year when Hermione discovers that Harry's baseless acusations about Malfoy are more true than she had anticipated, she goes to Dumbledore who stages Draco's death and sends him into hiding. But thats not where her part ends. Dumbledore expects her to tutor him on the 6th year material. Left with more time together alone then ever before, they begin to see things differently, in this, the prelude to their end.

Chapter 10 : What You Feel Can Never, Never Ever, Go Away

True to their word, things did return to normal.

After waking from what she was sure was some sort of dream, only to find that her 'dream' had in fact been real, she swore that such carelessness would be avoided in the future. She didn't need another, certainly less imaginary, reason for Ron to blow up at her.

Draco had seemed to understand this as well, because he treated her the same, if not slightly colder, than he always had.

If indeed things had returned to normal, Draco treating her with cold indifference, and Ron angry at her for yet another ill conceived reason, why then did she feel that somehow, something important was out of place?

-:-

Dumbledore proved to be a saving grace, in his own right. As though he seemed to understand Hermione's pain, he did something no one expected. On the night of New Year's Eve, she was greeted by the faces of her overjoyed, albeit slightly uncomfortable, parents. They had been eating dinner, the few that were not on a mission of any kind, when they had come through the floo.

"Mum! Dad!" Hermione beamed,

"Hermione, dear!" Her mother hugged her immediately. Her father stood back and just watched the two women happily.

"Dumbledore sent us an owl inviting us to join you for tonight. We've missed you, dearest."

"I've missed you too." Hermione hugged her father when her mother let her go.

The others, who included a curious Harry and Ginny, a scowling Ron, and a beaming Mrs. Weasley, watched silently.

"Who are your friends, Mimi?" Her father asked. Hermione cringed at the use of her nickname as Harry and Ginny smiled evilly.

"Mum, Dad, this is Harry and Ginny." Ginny waved and Harry stood to shaake her father's hand.

"Pleased to meet you." Harry said pleasantly.

"Didn't you have another friend too? A 'Ronald' fellow?" her father prodded.

Ron refused to look at them as he sat, hunched in his chair, with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Harry nodded apolegetically toward his, thus far silent, friend.

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh, "That's Ron."

Harry chuckled, "Don't mind him, he's just being an arse at the moment."

"Never mind my rude son, come sit with us."

By this point Molly Weasley had stood up and was ushering them to sit at the table and gathered them some plates so they could eat. Both Grangers looked uncertain at the exchange but sat obligingly. They picked up their conversation once again.

"So Hermione," Ginny asked slyly, "Where do you think Malfoy is?"

Hermione refused to be baited. "I don't know. Probably, off doing whatever he does when he's by himself."

"We should find him. It would do him good to meet some real muggles."

As if the words themselves drove the snake from his lair, Malfoy stepped into the kitchen, more out of hunger than actual curiosity at the commotion.

"Speak of the devil." Ginny commented dryly.

Malfoy didn't seem to notice the two new occupants of the kitchen as he went about gathering his meal before preparing to leave again. He muttered a quiet 'thank you' to Mrs. Weasley (after all, he'd get yelled at if he didn't) and turned to leave.

"Oy! Malfoy!" Ginny called out to him.

"Yes, she-weasel?" he asked nochalantly.

"Have you ever met a muggle?"

Draco simply looked bored, "Can't say that I have. Though, if they're all as annoying and uncouth as Granger over here, I don't particularly want to."

Mr. Granger just frowned at this boy's blatant insult of his daughter.

"Oh sod off, Malfoy!" Hermione finally shot back.

"Or what?" He taunted, "You'll kill me with a book?"

Hermione laughed sardonically, "It just wouldn't do to defile a book that way by getting your blood on it."

"It just wouldn't do to get your filthy blood on anything, would it, Mudblood?" This time he looked just purely angry, and looking even more closely, one could see the hurt in his eyes.

Or at least that's what she would have seen if she weren't blinded by her own anger and pain. She was about to fire back with an angry reply when her father slammed his fist on the table and stood up.

"Shut your mouth, you bigot." His voice wasn't at all loud, but menacing enough for Draco to take a second look at him.

"Who are you?" his voice was still angry.

"I am her father."

Draco simply sneered. "A muggle." he spat, as if it explained everything.

"Thats right." Mr. Granger said gruffly, "The same kind of people who learned to live by putting their own sweat and hard work into something, instead of using magic to do it for us."

Hermione glared at Draco so fiercely, that he seriously questioned whether a look could actually kill. For a moment he was speechless.

"Get. Out." she hissed through clenched teeth.

His jaw clenched and he spat one last response before leaving, slamming the door behind him.

"Gladly."

"Steering perception? I am!
Inviting contradiction? I am!
Its my insistence
You keep your distance
From the glare behind my stare.
So this is the way
The game is played.
You can leave now...
But I think you'll stay. I am I!"

I Am I, Queensryche