Salutations from New York City! Hopefully this update will brighten your day a little. I am SOOOOOO sorry this took so long to update. I've been feeling kind of out of it lately, and I've had some serious writer's block lately. I know, I'm a horrible, cruel person. Forgive me!!!!

This kind of feels like it's going to be a filler chapter, but hopefully it's not too bad. I mean, if it were up to me, I would just lock Hermione and Draco in a room together and write the sex scene and they all live happily ever after. However, authors have to listen to their stories, and this story is saying right now 'it's winter break, they can't be together!' And I'm like 'damn it,' but an author must obey its story; they would not be an author without it.

Responses:

Stend: you don't like the snogging and such? Well, that's your prerogative. Maybe my raging hormones are more intense than yours. Believe me, by the time you're 16, sex is very hard to ignore :-P. Random fact: I am obsessed with Ancient Egypt for no apparent reason. It fascinates me. Anyways….yes I will do whatever I want to. Enjoy the chappie!

Seriyah: as usual, your reviews leave me smiling. Yes, techno music sucks…it's weird and pointless. Woot! You should get yourself tested for Alzheimer's…hehehehe, jk. Well thank you. I was trying to be in tune with what my reader would be thinking when they read that, and I thought I would be saying in my head "NO WAY", so I addressed that first. Don't worry, Pig is still psychotic, just less so. He kind of bothered me, so I thought I'd make him chiller. 1st of all, what is it with the biting and licking? I mean, it's absolutely hilarious, but I think you could be more threatening than…biting someone. Unless of course you have rabies, in which case it is very threatening. Eating one's soul is always a good threat. People are very protective of their souls, so wanting to eat theirs makes you very intimidating. Sorry, I should stop ranting. 2nd, well, maybe it's nothing to you (or me) but there are some people who do find anything intimate kind of big, so I wanted to make sure I wasn't offending them with my sexually starved teenage mind. Wanna know why that's a problem for me? My boyfriend lives in France, so I can't actually be near him and hold him and kiss him and...do other things. DAMN ATLANTIC OCEAN!!!!!!!......sorry, that was me being self pitying for a moment. It has passed. Random fact: I used to play the violin, but after 2 years I wasn't improving and gave it up. Enjoy the chapter!

Aleigh: hey, look, a new reviewer! I always welcome those. Greetings, and welcome to the wonderful, plausible world of Change. Good Night is my favorite chapter as well. You have no idea how much self control it took to wait until ch12 to get to that point!!!! Hahahaha thank you for your patience. Hope you like ch15!

Anon: well, she's kind of ambivalent, but you're right, I don't like stories in which Narcissa is still evil and crazy. I think she redeemed herself in book 7, so I'm giving her a break.

Mr. Fix-It: I can't tell you that…but you'll find out in due time. Hahahahaha, yes I can see you are just exuding the masculine charm. No, really, I respect male actors…I am an actress myself (yes, a woman of many talents, aren't I?). Also there's nothing wrong with getting pedicures…that only surprises me because I go to a nail salon maybe once every few months. Random fact? I'll give you 2, because you were nice enough to grace me with that number: I am trying to save up $ to get myself a laptop so I can write and video chat and all that jazz in my own room, not on the family computer, and gain a little privacy. Also: I like to wear skirts as shirts, with belts, bra straps showing and all. I of course am exuding feminine charm as well. The guys are just falling all over me. As if. :-P Enjoy!

So, I have the results for the questions asked last chapter here for you:

Seems no one minds my ridiculously long responses, so they're staying, as you can see.

This one was a bit harder. I got 2 votes to keep things the way they are and 2 votes to 'sex it down'. However, another separate vote has tipped the scales (mainly my bf, who wants 3 lemons in each chapter :-P, lol) so I'm not going to tone it down, but I'm not going to make it sex crazed. It'll stay at a normal level for now. If you want me to up the rating right now, I can. I will eventually, one way or another, but it's up to you. Sorry for those of you who aren't into the intimacy parts. You can skip those *shrugs*

Alrighty, shall I actually get writing now? Yeah, I probably should. Sorry to be so long winded. Bite me. I deserve it.

Chapter 15: Snapped

Hermione was sitting in a wooden chair in the backyard of the Burrow, watching another Quidditch game. She was bundled against the cold, but Hermione didn't have a problem with it. She had always laughed at other people for wearing 5 sweaters in weather like this. Hermione was 'warm-blooded' as called by her friends. She could deal with cold very well, and had unzipped her thick jacket a few minutes before.

Percy was keeping score and Hermione was paying very little attention to the game in front of her. Dimly she recognized that Harry, George, and Ginny were in the lead by 50 points and Bill had the quaffle, but this must have been their 3rd game in a row and she was immensely bored. Despite her efforts, Hermione's thoughts inevitably led back to Draco.

It was a week since she had sent him her package. Christmas had passed (happily) and New Year's Eve was this evening. But she hadn't gotten a reply from him. Nothing—not a peep. Hedwig had returned empty handed, and Hermione had to hide her growing despair as the days went by.

What had she expected? A wonderful gift in return? A long letter saying he missed her? A short note at least acknowledging her gift? Well, yes, that was what she expected—but that's not what she got.

Instead, Hermione received silence. And that silence tore at her chest. What did this mean? Did he really care that little? Obviously—he was ignoring her, refusing to respond to her. Had he met someone else? Had he taken a moment to read her letter? Had he chucked everything out, once he had realized who it was from? In an attempt to comfort herself, she tried to think back to the night before they had parted, yet the details were fogged by her sorrow.

Hermione was trying not to let it get to her. She was trying to ignore it as much as possible, and not make it a big deal. But in many ways, Hermione was a drama queen, and tended to overreact to things—especially when she had no one to calm her down.

And that was the worst of it. She had to hide her feelings, even from her friends. She couldn't tell Ginny that she was hurt; she couldn't cry on someone's shoulder, she couldn't even act like she was sad, because no one could know why.

And it was slowly driving her crazy.

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Draco finished his letter with a flourish of his pen. Draco and Blaise had been corresponding ever since the former had left. They were short letters, but Draco knew Blaise was really bored in the castle, and tried to cheer him up as much as possible.

He sat back in the chair at his desk and stared out the window in front of him, viewing the front lawn. He wondered what Hermione was doing at that very moment. He had thought about writing to her, but for some reason held back. Draco didn't want to seem too eager. He may miss her immensely, but Draco would never do something so forward as to actually send her a letter. He was more of a face-to-face kind of guy.

He was shaken out of his mind's wanderings when he heard a knock on his door. Turning in his chair to face the door, Draco called asked, "who is it?"

A voice from outside sounded. "The boogie man"

Draco laughed, "Come in."

His mother opened the door and took a step into the room, smiling.

"Draco, lunch is almost ready, if you're interested."

"Yeah, sure, lemme just send this and I'll be right over." Draco stood up and walked to the cage of his eagle owl, Juno. However, he was surprised when Narcissa stayed halfway in the room. She looked like she was debating something.

Suddenly she asked, "Who are you writing to?"

"Blaise—he's pretty bored at the castle and all, so I've been trying to de-dullify his days somewhat."

"Have you been writing to anyone else?"

"Well, I sent some Christmas cards and presents to Pansy and Greg, remember? But other than that, no."

"Oh..."

There was a pause as Draco tied his signed and sealed letter to Juno's foot.

Almost in a rush, Narcissa spoke again. "How do you feel about Hermione Granger?"

Draco tried not to let the tension show in his shoulders as he watched Juno fly off. He turned around, leaned against his desk, and asked nonchalantly, "what do you mean?" He still hadn't told anyone about his relationship with Hermione, including his mother.

"Well, I mean, she's Head Girl with you, right? So how have you been getting on with her? It must be a bit difficult sharing a room with her."

Draco stifled a grin. "No, not really. We have a system, so there haven't been any serious problems so far."

When Draco didn't elaborate, but began for the door, his mother started a bit, then turned and walked down the narrow hallway to the kitchen. Draco followed and sat in the kitchen as his mother served grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches. She sat across from him and they began to eat in silence until she stopped and spoke again.

"And what's she like? How well do you know her?" Narcissa asked

"Why are you so interested all of a sudden?"

"No reason," she said quickly.

"Alright"

Neither of them spoke for a while, until Draco decided maybe it wouldn't be horrible to at least clue his mother in on the general idea.

"She's actually quite nice. She helps me with my homework and we talk a lot. Apparently we have a lot in common."

"Really? So she's your friend?" Narcissa still refused to look her son in the eye as she asked these questions. Draco began to get suspicious.

"Yes, she is, and I'll have you know there is nothing wrong with having a muggleborn friend."

"Oh, Draco, of course, I know that." But still she didn't make eye contact.

"Mom, what is up with you?"

Slowly, she stood. "Draco, I haven't been completely honest with you."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Draco was completely perplexed.

Instead of responding, she walked to the refrigerator and opened the door.

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"Who is she?"

"Who's who?"

"You know, she, the one you're thinking about right now."

"I'm not thinking about anyone. I'm thinking about you—because I'm talking to you."

"Sure..."

Hermione glanced at Ron skeptically, before looking back out the window. He had been looking wistfully at the sky for a while now.

Everyone was off on their own adventures, or asleep. It was almost 2 in the morning, after all. Harry and Ginny had left a while ago to spend some 'alone time' somewhere in the house. Hermione couldn't help but grin at the look on Ginny's face. Now, she and Ron were sitting on the couch in the living room. They had talked themselves into a corner and had taken to staring out the large window in the front of the house. She had noticed the faraway look in his eyes, and recognized it as the one she usually harbored when thinking about Draco. Immediately, intuitively, Hermione had known at least what, if not who he was thinking about. She wanted to find out, if only to get her mind off her own fractured heart, but didn't push it. He would tell her when he was ready.

They sat in silence a few minutes longer.

"She's a Ravenclaw."

Hermione bit back the retort that came to her lips. She could have easily made fun of Ron for having a crush on a girl who was immensely smarter than he. But she wasn't going to make fun of him—not now anyway.

"What's her name?"

"Rachel Dawson—we work together in Charms. I think you know her, right?"

Hermione remembered her. She had seen them in class together. She had auburn hair and small freckles across her face. Hermione conceded she was very pretty, and said as much.

"No kidding," he responded. Then he blushed. "We've been hanging out for a while, you know, in the library and in classes and all."

"So you're friends."

Yeah, but I don't want to just be her friend." Ron turned even redder.

"Tell me about her."

"Er...well, she's very quiet and polite outwardly, but when we're spending time alone, she's a totally different person. She jokes and laughs and I talk to her about practically anything. It's like I can let my guard down around her."

Hermione could have cried in that moment, because everything he had said reminded her of Draco.

"So what exactly do I do about it?" he prompted.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I want to let her know how I feel. You're the expert more than I am. What should I do!?" He was almost pleading with her.

At his words, however, Hermione uncharacteristically began to simmer with anger. Who was he to ask her something like that? She didn't have all the answers!

"How should I know? I've got no experience with this sort of thing."

"Yeah, but 'Mione, you're the smart one. I need your help in this."

It was his use of her hated nickname that made her snap. Her head whipped around to face him.

"Why me? Ok, so you have problems. There's some girl you like and you want to tell you how you feel and blah blah blah. But why does everyone come to me to solve their problems? Is it because I'm the 'brightest witch of my age' and all this other crap? Is it because no one else cares enough to listen to your stupid blathering? Is it because they think I don't have anything going on, so they should put their issues on me so my life isn't boring or something?"

Hermione stood from the couch and towered over Ron, who looked afraid for his life. Maybe he should be Hermione thought wickedly as her voice rose. "Well let me tell you something, Ronald Weasley. I have problems—I have my own issues to deal with, and I'm sick of everyone coming to me to help them, without once asking if I've got something on my mind, if there's something I want to talk about it. I'm downright tired of it! So the next time any of you want help with something, go call a therapist, because you won't be getting any advice from me!"

And with that, Hermione stormed from the room with footsteps that seemed to shake the house. Distantly, Hermione wondered if anyone else had heard her yelling and would come to investigate. Honestly, she didn't care.

Without picking up her jacket, Hermione strode out to the backyard and plopped down in the wicker bench. It creaked at her sudden impact, but then everything was silent.

Hermione pulled her knees into her chest as she thought over what had just happened.

Immediately, Hermione was ashamed of herself. There was absolutely no good reason for her to shout at Ron like that. He wasn't being mean or rude at all. He didn't deserve that kind of treatment...but he had gotten it anyway. He had had to bear the full brunt of her emotional turmoil when she finally snapped, and for that Hermione was sorry.

She was also generally sorry for herself. As her self-pity grew, the same questions again popped up in her head about Draco, and they swam in front of her eyes until she realized it was not questions, but tears there.

And suddenly the cold that she usually didn't feel, or at least ignored, came closing in on her unprotected body—her heart too. Hermione shivered and realized in almost an amused way, I need a hug.

No sooner had she voiced the thought in her head, but Ron came out the back door. Somehow, he had sensed exactly what she needed, when she needed it, because he was carrying her coat. Hermione was beyond grateful when he draped the jacket over her shoulders and sat down next to her.

"Oh, Ron, I'm so sorry..."

"Shhhh, Hermione, it's ok. I was bang out of order." As Ron spoke, he slid an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into his side, savoring the warmth and comfort it brought.

"No, you weren't, I was. I had no right to yell at you. I've just been holding in a lot of stuff lately. I'm sorry you had to...I'm just...."

Slowly but surely, the pent up emotions Hermione had been feeling for the past week seeped out and she quietly cried into Ron's jacket. He just held her there and offered what little comfort he could.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

Hermione looked up at him for a moment with her red eyes and tear-stained face and considered him. Ron was being extraordinarily helpful right now. He was acting compassionate and soothing and Hermione trusted him implicitly. Hermione needed to vent to someone. But she also remembered Ron had a short temper, and knew him well enough to realize what might happen if she told him the truth. Not only would he be shocked at the revelation of Hermione and Draco being something more than polite acquaintances, but he would absolutely erupt when he found out that Draco had hurt her. Ron was nothing if not protective of his friends—especially Hermione—and she knew he might tromp off that very moment to find Draco and hex him into the next century. As hurt as she was, Hermione didn't want a fight.

All of this flitted through her head in a moment, as she looked at Ron.

"I just—I can't."

Hermione lowered her head to Ron's shoulder and was surprised at his answer. "Alright, Hermione, I won't push you. I just hate seeing you like this."

Hermione snorted. "So do I."

They both chuckled and some of the tension broke. Hermione could never tell him how much this meant to her. He had every right to be upset—even furious with her for shouting at him. He could have come out and yelled back at her. He could have just gone back upstairs confused. Instead he was out here comforting her, and Hermione was more grateful than she could ever portray with words.

Having let out some of the frustration she was feeling, Hermione noticed that her inner turmoil had abated somewhat. Hermione sighed almost contentedly and snuggled closer to Ron.

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"You did what?"

"I...hid it."

"And why for the love of god and all that is holy would you do something like that?" (Wondering if anyone recognized that little quote. No? Does 'my anus is bleeding' sound familiar? Oops, sorry to interrupt...)

"I was confused, Draco. I got the package and didn't know what to make of it."

"So, what, that gives you the right to keep this rather important knowledge from me?"

"Please, don't be upset with me. I wasn't sure how to handle the information, and didn't know if I could approach you about the subject."

Draco sighed. He stopped pacing the kitchen and turned toward his mother, letter in hand. The box was still sitting, unopened, on the table. Somewhere in that back of his head, Draco wondered if it was still good after a week in the refrigerator, but there were more pressing matters.

He looked at Narcissa and saw that her words were true. She was not annoyed with him for keeping something like this from her. She was not outraged that he was friends with a muggleborn. He could see plainly on her face that she was sorry for hiding this from him, and that softened Draco a bit.

"No, I'm sorry for snapping at you. I'm just annoyed that you felt you couldn't just ask me straight out."

"Would you have really explained everything to me?"

Draco's cheeks tinged pink very slightly. "Well, you're my mother, what do you expect?"

She smiled momentarily, and finally asked what Draco knew had really been on her mind. "So what's really going on with this Granger girl?"

Draco pulled out his chair and sat on it backwards, still facing his mother. He sighed and scanned through the letter again, and this time couldn't keep a smile from tugging at his lips.

Narcissa saw this and prompted him again, with a twinkle in her eye. "Draco?"

His eyes shot up to meet hers, and Draco relented, telling her, in a roundabout manner, about his progressing relationship with the Head Girl. He was vague with many of the details, especially the night of their departure. She was shocked when he told her about the incident in the Astronomy Tower, but told him she was proud of how brave he had been in helping her. Draco conveniently forgot about his conversation with her that night.

"So now we're kind of...together, in a weird, unofficial way."

Narcissa was quiet for a long time, and Draco wondered what she was thinking. He could see the internal struggle on her face and knew exactly what was warring inside her.

All of her life, Narcissa had been taught that Pureblood was better than everything else, that it was kin to being of royalty. She was similarly told that muggleborns were the scum of the universe, and should be treated with utmost contempt, if one was ever forced to interact with one. The fact that her son's new not-girlfriend was a member of this class was an obstacle she was having difficulty coping with.

On the other hand, there was something about her that obviously had caught Draco attention, and he was anything but easy. She must be an amazing witch to have ensnared him the way that she had, if by accident. And of course there was the fact that Draco seemed to like her quite a lot. The tone of voice he used when talking about her did not escape Narcissa's notice...

"Does she make you happy?"

Draco was surprised by this question. He was imagining what might happen if she decided Hermione was not an acceptable woman for him to be spending his time with. How could he go against his mother's wishes? But how could he stay away from Hermione?

But none of his worries ever came to anything.

"Exponentially" Draco grinned.

His mother grinned back. She walked around the table toward Draco who got up from his chair and accepted his mother's embrace. "Then I'm happy for you."

After a minute of just standing there, Draco pulled back and said, eyes twinkling, "you have no idea what that means to me."

"I think I have a clue," she responded, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Narcissa then stepped back and said, "now, don't you have a letter to respond to?"

"Oh!" and Draco slapped a hand to his forehead. "Hermione's probably furious I haven't responded by now! She'll think I'm ignoring her! Shit!"

Narcissa chuckled at her son's distress. "Then you'd better get writing." And without another word, Draco bounded to his room, plopped himself clumsily into his chair and snatched parchment, quill, and ink toward him. Draco barely noticed as evening descended on the little cottage.

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Don-da-da-donnnnn!!!! So, what did you think? Was it silly and filler-ish? Was it emotional and well written? Tell me what you think! I need to know. And don't forget your random fact!

*sigh* I really am sorry that it took me so long to update. Writers block can take a while to get over...or through...or whatever. Hmmmm, do you think writer's block is like a wall in an obstacle course you have to climb over with that rope thingy, or is it a pile of wood you have to break through in order to keep writing?

A couple of questions to prompt your reviews: do you think Hermione's reaction was believable? I mean, I personally wouldn't cry if some guy didn't text me back. However, I justify it in the fact that it was only half Draco's fault and half because she had been holding everything in. I do know from experience that keeping things to yourself can be self destructive. Also, is it bothering you that I'm making a 'happily-ever-after' story, what with Ron's revelation, where everyone in the trio is joyfully dating and in love and all that jazz? It seems kind of boring, but simultaneously good. What d'you think? And finally, it seems I kind of had an insight into Narcissa's brain waves near the end there. I know I'm not supposed to, but I feel like I needed to, to fully explain Narcissa's struggle. You of course don't have to answer all those silly questions, but they are some of the things on my mind, so if you wanted to respond, I wouldn't mind in the slightest.

BTW, I think next chapter is going to be their correspondence over the next few days, but I dunno yet. You'll see.

Okey dokey artichokey. It's high time I upload this and let you all read it. Hope you enjoyed! Enjoy? Huh, time is a funny thing...

Now click that button! Yes, that one! The one that says 'REVIEW THIS STORY/CHAPTER'. It's green and is just begging to be clicked. ;-)

See y'all next week!

-Ginger