Hi lovelies!

Quick Author's Note: Since I am writing as fast as I can within the small time frames of free time that I possess, I am unfortunately human and prone to making mistakes. As I write this story, I will continue to edit the previous chapters quite obsessively. Therefore, it might, just MIGHT be worth your time to go back every once in awhile and start from the beginning. Not for my own ego, but hopefully for your further insight into the story I am weaving. Thanks to all for your love and encouragement.

M. x

It was exactly 8:59 in the morning and Hermione was already wishing for the day to be over. She had an awful start to say the least. Bickering with Draco amused her, however, fighting with Malfoy was a completely different story. It emotionally wrecked her to the brink of madness, and she was sure that it would be, any day now, that he would make her snap.

Apparently, today was the day. It had started off with accidently falling on top of him during their Snatcher take down shortly after 1am. They had been in the freezing rain, stalking around in cold, foggy alleyways, alternating between arguments and flirtations for the better part of three hours. She had slipped on the slick cobblestones, reaching out for any sort of stability she grabbed him, and they had ended up in the most embarrassing of positions; his toned body pressing down onto hers, his hot breath falling onto her exposed neck. Of course he was crude and arrogant about it, which did nothing for Hermione's nerves.

After leaving the Ministry around 5am, he had insisted on coffee and listing a thousand, mind you, perfectly logical reasons of why her and Ron were not a good fit. She had become belligerent at the liberties he had taken when speaking about her personal life while he reminded her he was just being an honest…."friend." She had rolled her eyes at that. His moods were giving her whiplash; he swung so hard and so frequently in opposing directions that it made her head spin. And she was the Queen of multi-tasking.

Lastly, there had been their massive blow out in the kitchen not even fifteen minutes ago, at exactly 8:45am. Hermione had been counting. Oh yes, she had fucked up, big time.

Her gazed turned to Harry who was, at present, studying the Black family clock from its resting place. He was beyond suspicious of her, she could hear it in his forced laughter and the way he was being uncharacteristically quiet. And she had given him good reason to be, babbling away like an utter idiot in the kitchen, thinking her little ploy to get Malfoy back for his spiteful comments was worth risking Harry realizing the magnitude of the completely out of control situation that she was facing. But it was his fault! Harry was the one who brought Malfoy here, who condemned her to his brain grating insensitivity and rude comments and stupid arguments and gorgeous eyes… Ugh! Harry expected her to take care of everything, as always! Fueled by her anger, Hermione cleared her throat.

"Was there something else you wanted to discuss?" Her voice filled with a suddenly violent tone caused Harry to turn. Why was he wasting her time?

She had spent the last 12 and a half minutes giving Harry the entire breakdown of her findings on Umbridge. She enlightened him on the "beings" that were behind these killings; Umbridge was using half-breeds as well as wizards for her dirty work.

After taking a portkey to the Ministry, Hermione and Draco spent time questioning all of them. The humans admitted they were working for Umbridge and that they were indeed receiving payment, not from Umbridge directly, but from an anonymous source; Draco had beaten that confirmation out of them. But they couldn't reveal where she was or what her next move would be. Or the name of anyone else involved. Draco and Hermione both agreed that they were cursed with dark magic and therefore would die if given Veritserum; as much as they were criminals, Hermione didn't believe in anyone dying an excruciating death; Draco had wasted thirty minutes arguing against her, insisting that their intelligence could end Umbridge. Hermione had won the battle by absolutely refusing to even consider it, causing Draco to taunt her about being a soft touch and not taking their work seriously. That had sent her flying off the handle and she had needed several glasses of water and Kingsley's soothing voice to reassure her she had done the right thing, before returning to the holding cells.

To Hermione's complete outrage the half-breeds referred to themselves as such. They consisted of half-trolls, half-goblins and they admitted to her that there were half-giants invested in their cause as well, though they were not currently residing in London. The memory modifications performed on them were so complex that Hermione was sure it would take months if not a year to undo the damage, and that was only if it was done correctly. When Hermione brought it up, Draco had coldly reminded her that they didn't have that kind of time.

Infuriatingly enough, Harry had agreed with his point. Hermione couldn't express the pain she had felt for these poor creatures, abandoned by their families and literally brainwashed into slaving for the enemy. It was sick, and it made her want to do something rash. Maybe Malfoy was having some affirmative affect on her; she had wrapped up her briefing by suggesting that it may be time to lay the bait. While the rest of them kept digging, Hermione proposed that she come out with an official statement of sorts or organize a public event, something to infuriate Umbridge so completely that she would be forced out of hiding, forced to slip up. And then. Justice would be served. A slowly smirk curved onto Hermione's face at the thought. She pulled herself back to the present. Harry, who had agreed to consider her valid proposition, was staring at her with an unreadable expression.

"You smirk like him, you know? I've noticed that recently, within the last month or so. Don't think Ron has, but I know you Hermione. I do." She tried as hard as she possibly could to hide her shock at his perceptiveness. Her face turned quickly into a scowl.

"Are you implying that Ron doesn't know me?"

"Not like I do." Hermione looked away from his gaze. Yes, of course. How could he ever let her forget? She mused angrily, they had been lonely, and isolated… miserable and willing to do anything to protect one another from the despair that loomed over their heads during those dark, fathomless nights. Yes. Harry had taken her virginity and a bit more, but it was the past, he was happily back together with Ginny and Hermione was, well…conflicted. She dropped onto the couch with resignation and turned her sour stare to a sculpture of a witch who was writhing uncontrollably and screaming in silent pain. How fitting.

"Hermione." She refused to meet his gaze. She suddenly felt the couch sink down next to her and a warm arm wrapped around her shoulders. "Just…tell me what's going on. Please."

"Harry, I-" She looked up at him. "The last six months have been…challenging." For Hermione to describe a situation as such was rare. "Ron and Draco have been completely unmanageable. They are a constant source of hate and negativity, bouncing off and colliding with everyone else who is living here. It's unfair and it's immature."

"You seem to be fanning quite a few flames yourself." He hedged.

"That's not. It's not what you think."

"And what exactly do I think, Hermione?"

"Look, I'm just trying to do the right thing here, but it is becoming more and more impossible." She threw his arm off of her and stood quickly, looking down at him with fierce determination. "You're the one who put all of us in this situation. You are the one who forced us together! Was I supposed to take Ron's path and continue holding onto stupid prejudices when it is the very thing we are still fighting to destroy!? Yes, I forgave him, yes he is a human being. So is Pansy. They have changed, I know it might not seem like it, but I swear to you, he is different."

"And here I thought I was going to have to be the one defending Malfoy to you." He raised his eyebrows in interest.

"Don't patronize me Harry." She snarled, moving toward the wall to gaze at the massively ornate tapestry of the Black ancestors. She found the Malfoy connection quickly and ran her finger over the burn mark where Draco had once been. Blood. She thought contemptuously. Who had time for it?

"I will only say this once. And I refuse to ever repeat it, but, I believe Malfoy may have a point." Her gaze snapped to his with shock.

"What?" She gasped.

"Maybe you two need to sort this thing, you've got going on, out…together. I think it's the only way."

"What?" Hermione was panicking. "No, no you can't do that. Harry, please. It won't fix anything, it will do the opposite. Please, please don't make this worse."

"What worse?" His brows furrowed at her distress.

"I, okay. I admit, I might have fibbed a bit…ab-about how bad he was during our mission. But I promise. I promise I won't do it again. I'll stay out of his way."

"What are you hiding Hermione? I've only seen you like this a handful of times and it's always when you are hiding something!" He yelled with frustration. "What's going on between you two?"

"Nothing! Okay? Nothing."

"And Ron? What about him?"

"Ron has been absolutely horrid to me!"

"Well maybe if you weren't spending so much time with Malfoy-" Hermione raised her wand with lightening speed and blasted an ugly black vase, with dead spiky thorns contorting out of it, to smithereens. Harry eyed her warily.

"Just…just break it off with him , if it's not what you want. " He stated firmly, avoiding her incredulous look.

"What?" She scoffed. "And are we to continue living here like one big happy family?"

"Is that why you haven't done it then?" Harry's words had an impact on her that she couldn't believe was possible. Had she just been with Ron out of convenience? Did she even want to be with him anymore? All the energy drained from her limbs as she sunk down into a chair and covered her eyes with her hands.

"No." She whispered terrified as the truth rolled over her in waves; it was as if she was a disembodied voice. "I know if I broke it off with him he wouldn't stay here…and I…I would be fine, but where would that leave us?" She couldn't believe she was saying this. Hermione refused to lift her hands from her face. "I love him Harry, I do. I'm just so tired. So tired."

He was silent for several minutes.

"You need a break." She looked up at him with skepticism. "You're relieved of your duties-"

"Until further notice." Hermione finished for him with an unpleasant sort of mockery.

"I was going to say for the rest of the weekend, but if you need more time…"

"No. Fine. That's fine."

"If I may impart on you, a little advice?"

"Oh please do, Wise One." He ignored her biting sarcasm.

"Be upfront with Ron, the consequences are going to be severe if you chose to continue down your current path, but that's your decision. We're best friends and therefore I'm behind you. Like you've been for all my stupid, fucked up choices."

She smiled at that before her face turned sad.

"He's going to hate me." She murmured with honest disappointment. Ron was her friend, her constant companion, they had many laughs, many more fights, but she could no longer picture their future together. They had always been so different. That wasn't the problem. It was more his unwillingness to even try to understand her, to listen to her, to accept what she wanted out of life; a career, adventure and travel…a family and kids eventually, but what was the rush? Why couldn't Ron understand she wanted more? Was it such an impossible concept to get?

Harry was right, he did know her better than Ron. For God's Sake, Draco flipping Malfoy knew her better than Ron! In six short months Draco had figured her out. He knew her. That realization felt like a knife to the chest. Was she so oblivious to the fact that her and Ron were no longer working, if they ever had? Was the Universe so cruel as to allow Draco Malfoy to plant seeds of doubt within her unraveling mind before Harry Potter blew them into full fruition? Oh God, her relationship with Ron was in shambles and all she had done was ignore it.

Then there was the completely separate issue of her uncouth relationship with Malfoy. If her and Ron were no longer together…would he…? Hermione forced her mind away from conjuring an imagine of Draco's naked muscular back… his hands gripped roughly around her thighs…doing absolutely brilliant tricks to her slick , sensitive flesh, with his perfect mouth. She was bloody mad.

"Ron." Harry's voice intruded upon her thoughts, causing her gaze to snap towards the door. There stood Ron Weasely, looking as if he had just clambered out of bed, although funny enough he was still wearing his clothes from yesterday morning. And he was never up this early unless he was severely hung over. Hermione raised an eyebrow at her observations. He looked sheepishly at both of them before closing the door behind him and edging into the room. A cool silence descended. Hermione had not spoken a word to him since yesterday morning when he had told everyone present to "fuck off." She grimaced at the memory. She had had every intention of leaving the kitchen and going to sooth his temper, in turn preventing him from ruining her chances at getting out of this damn house, but Draco had taken the rest of her energy with his insistent goading and she had given up on mending anything; retiring to the library with her burnt breakfast and bruised ego.

Ron stood at a distance, as if fearful to come any closer. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"Hey mate." He smiled at Harry. "How's it going?"

"How's it going with you?" Harry countered. "I've heard you've been near impossible, lately." Ron frowned.

"Is that what she told you?" He began with impatience.

"No idiot! You only have to live within a 10 mile radius to hear all the ridiculous things you've been roaring about." She crossed her arms and stared resolutely in the opposite direction.

"I told you, I'm sorry about what I said yesterday-" The words tumbled carelessly past his lips. As if rehearsed. Hermione bristled at his nonchalance.

"Apology not accepted."

"Hermione-" Harry began hoping to diffuse the tension. But Ron threw his hands in the air and opened his enormously ill timed mouth.

"How do you expect me to get along with this?"

"With this? WITH THIS?" Hermione shouted close to tears. "You, Ron Weasely, are the worst boyfriend that ever existed! You do NOT listen, you do NOT care. I am done with it. DONE!" She jumped from her seat and slammed through the door without a second glance. The sounds of explosive magic sliced through their ears. Hermione was on a warpath. Harry hoped she ran into Malfoy. He sighed turning his gaze to Ron, who he was surprised to find, was grinning.

"Deserved that, didn't I?" He chuckled, lowering himself into Hermione's empty seat. Harry looked on in curiosity. Ron relaxed ten-fold now that Hermione's fury was outside of his presence.

"Look Harry, sorry for all the trouble, but I sort of came to a realization. Maybe, maybe all Slytherins aren't as bad as we thought, you know? I mean, I fucking hate Malfoy, but I might not have to beat his face bloody every time I see him."

"That's very…mature of you." Harry coughed trying to hide his amusement and wonder.

"Yeah you know? I think that's it." Ron's face looked suspiciously dreamy.

"And this…realization of yours…there's no chance it came to you last night? Perhaps while you were down in the dungeons…mixing…elixirs." Ron gave Harry a smirk.

"Your impression of Snape has always been God awful. But yeah, I think Parkinson might have opened my mind. A bit."

"And did she open anything else?"

"What?" Ron sputtered his gaze slipping from Harry's as he laughed nervously. "Are you mad?"

"Are you?" Harry asked sardonically. Ron seemed to contemplate his question.

"Maybe. A Bit. " He looked guiltily up at Harry. "We sort of…passed out, in the library." Harry raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Together?" He asked already knowing the answer.

"Together. Yeah. You won't tell Hermione, will you? Nothing happened. It wasn't like that. It just…"

"Happened. Yeah, Ron. " Ron completely missed Harry's sarcasm as he stared unknowingly at a gigantic spider in the top corner of the room, devouring an innocent, struggling moth.

"It just felt right, you know." Harry was uncomfortable with that statement, it brought him back to memories of Hermione's warm body underneath him. Ron could never know. Harry was still unable to forget them.

"Yeah." Harry confirmed with a nod. "Just happened." Ron smiled gratefully and then swung to his feet.

"Great. Listen, like I said, I promise I'll cool off."

"You need to work things out with Hermione-"

"I will. Swear." Ron looked thoughtful. "You won't hear another peep against me." He grinned with renewed confidence. "Now…how about breakfast?" Harry conceded, following a much too jovial Ron from the drawing room and back down into the kitchens. If possible, Harry Potter felt more bewildered and out of body now then he had when Sirius had been returned to them.

Strange things were happening in number 12 Grimmauld Place, and he, Harry, was powerless to stop them.