Note 1: Thanks for being so nice and understanding about me not being responsive these days.

Note 2: I'm in focus on LiveJournal's dhr101 community for a few more days. Feel free to pop over and ask me long and difficult questions. I will respond to the very best of my ability.

Note 3: Just something that some people seem to get wrong: I end a chapter on a cliffie when I do on purpose. So changing length etc of the chapters wouldn't change that bit. I can't believe that wasn't obvious XD

Note 4: I'm feeling so, so sick. Poor me.


Draco supposed that the good thing about Sunday was that he no longer had a hole in his shoulder. Having a hole in your shoulder was vastly overrated. Personally, he'd do just fine without one.

Blaise had withdrawn into himself again. It was disconcerting to see the otherwise fairly outgoing Slytherin being so… closed off. He was only ever closed off to those outside of his social sphere, and then it was usually more of a haughty snub, not this absent-minded way of forgetting people around him. He had really taken the news of how Draco's meeting with Tracey had gone hard. He didn't blame Draco, though – at least he claimed that he didn't. He was just… Draco couldn't quite find the word for it. Sad, he supposed.

One thing was clear, though. He wasn't just going to get past this as easy as Draco had initially thought. He would need time. And space. Draco wasn't really known for his tact, but even he knew that he had to give Blaise some space, so he found himself sitting alone in the common room, staring at the ceiling, and considering whether it was worth it to go to the library today or not.

He didn't feel like going. He didn't feel like doing much of anything, really. He mostly felt like eating chocolate, but he didn't have any, and it was a strange craving anyway. He hadn't craved sweets in years. So, with no chocolate to eat, he felt perfectly content just staring at the ceiling for hours. He absent-mindedly noticed that people were looking a bit strangely at him. He didn't really care. He was feeling rather lethargic. Not even the thought of what Slughorn might do to him if he didn't turn in his essay tomorrow could really rouse him.

Hermione would throw a fit if he didn't show up. The thought made him smirk slightly. It would serve her right for being… her. He seemed to remember a time when she at least some of the time watched what she said or did around him. She certainly didn't anymore. He should probably try harder to keep her in line, but he really couldn't be bothered. Besides, half the fun was making her mad. Why else was he even doing this?

He sighed as he couldn't postpone it anymore. He'd better go. That essay really needed doing. He slowly got up and got his things from his room, before he made his way up to the library. She was in an odd mood today as well, he could tell. Perhaps that was what was affecting him.

"You're late!" was her growled greeting when he finally arrived at their table.

He raised an eyebrow. This was an awful lot like yesterday. He didn't reply, though, but just sat down.

"You know," she continued with her nose in the air, "it's fine if you want to do this at four thirty or five instead of at four, but perhaps you could let me know? It's not like I haven't got better things to do with my time."

She was nagging him? He had to hide a grin as he realized she was already seething. "Like what?" he lazily asked. "Petting that monster you call a pet or snogging the other half of the school?"

She frowned at him, and he couldn't help but let the grin show. It might not be very productive, but he did really enjoy annoying her. It made him feel more alive to feel that spark from her. Especially today, for some reason.

"I have my own homework," she coolly informed him. "And my own friends to—"

"I don't actually care," he interrupted, shaking his head and smirking slightly. "You're my slave, remember? You live to serve me."

"Except when you almost get me killed."

Back to that. This also had to mean that she didn't know about the wound. Good. He didn't particularly feel like trying to explain that part to her. He didn't like her accusing voice, though. He was still feeling rather sore about what could have happened. He probably blamed himself more than she did. "I didn't hit that Bludger," he said, trying to defend himself. "And if you had been inside, someone else could have found and harassed you if that was what they wanted."

"I doubt they would have run a piece of wood through me."

"Enough!" he snapped. "It was a bloody accident. I haven't done anything to deserve your nagging and accusations, so just shut the fuck up already."

When she just stared at him, he realized that he had reacted a bit too passionately. It wasn't supposed to matter what she said or thought. It didn't matter. He was just feeling a bit short-tempered. And couldn't she see that she didn't need to remind him? "You're annoying me," he muttered. "You're supposed to help me with my essay, not… bother me about something that can't be done anything about anyway."

"Would you have done anything about it if you could?" she quietly asked.

What the hell kind of question was that? He had done something! Except she didn't know that, did she? "And what would I have done, Granger?" he asked with a sigh. "I dug you out and sent you on your way to the hospital wing; this was just about all I could do. It wasn't as if I would have thought Vaisey would risk losing his spot on the team just for some petty violence."

He almost wanted to show her his bloody scar, the proof that he knew very well what had happened and who was to blame for it.

Hermione slowly shook her head. She honestly didn't understand this Slytherin. He always acted so strange. His mood swings were worse than any she had ever seen, and he quite often contradicted himself.

"Fine," she said. "I suppose this isn't getting us anywhere. You still need to do the essay for Slughorn?" She might as well give up on making him see why he could be held accountable for what happened. Someone like Malfoy would never accept responsibility for anything as long as there was someone else to blame.

He looked relieved at the change of topic. "Yes. It's due tomorrow…"

"Tomorrow? Just how long did you put this off?" she scolded.

His lip quirked. "He assigned it Friday."

She stared at him again.

He laughed without much humor. "Do you believe that he hates my guts yet?"

Secretly, she did. But, of course, she'd never tell him that. Where would they be if she suddenly started agreeing with him?


An hour later, Hermione stretched – her back was killing her – and rolled her neck. Draco winced, and she smiled, feeling smug that he had to feel that. Served him right for… well, everything. Suddenly, a sharp pain went through her abdomen, making his head snap up to look at her. Oh, crud. She curled a bit into herself, willing the wayward muscles to relax.

"What was that?" he asked, sounding alarmed.

"What was what?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

His eyes narrowed. "Why did it hurt?"

She felt herself blush. "I don't know, don't you ever get random pains? It's nothing."

There was another cramp. Typical. She wasn't even really that prone to getting them.

"Maybe you should go to the hospital wing," he suggested.

"No, I'm fine," she bit out. "Let's get back to work."

"It could be some sort of flu."

"It's not, would you please just shut up about it?" she fairly growled. Being annoyed didn't help her muscles ease up at all. But then again, it didn't help the feeling of annoyance that her insides were being ripped apart.

He frowned at her. "Why are you being so bitchy? Does my concern offend you that much?"

No, his concern didn't offend her – but being called bitchy did! "I already told you it's nothing – several times – now drop it!"

"Come to think of it, you had something like this this morning as well, didn't you? I was a bit distracted, and it wasn't as strong…"

Oh, for heaven's sake. He wasn't ever going to let it go. She lowered her voice to an almost inaudible whisper. No need to shout it out to the entire library. "It's girl stuff, just forget it."

His frown deepened. "What do you mean girl stuff?" His voice wasn't lowered, and she shushed him, looking about. It wouldn't surprise her if Theo was around; the last thing she needed was for him to hear it. She knew it was perfectly natural, but her monthlies were just something that she preferred to keep to herself.

"I mean girl stuff. Happens every month, you know. Can we please not talk about this?" Her face must be positively flaming around now. It was just so… personal.

His eyes widened slightly as he caught her meaning. "I don't think it's supposed to hurt like that…" he lamely said. "Aren't you supposed to just be bi—eh… temperamental and bleed a little?"

"Just why do you think we're temperamental?" she snarled, rapidly losing patience with his ignorance. "And for your information – it's not always a little and it's not always just blood, either."

He wrinkled his nose. "Ew, too much information."

She smiled rather evilly. "Your own fault for pushing the subject. Are we done yet?"

"Yeah," he said, nervously glancing at her. "We're done."

"Good!" She returned to the homework with a vengeance, ignoring his apprehensive looks.


After this, Draco decided that nobody could blame him if he stayed clear of Hermione for a few days. After all, it was never fun to be around girls at that time, and he was finding that the discomfort she was having was vastly bigger than he'd ever thought it would be. He was rather surprised when he saw her in and between classes and she was acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. She had to go through this every month? All girls did? He considered asking Pansy about it but decided that she'd just laugh at him and rightfully so. Why should he care, anyway? He should just be happy that he wasn't a girl. And, Merlin, was he happy!

"This is strange," Theo observed, when he entered the common room at half four on Monday and found Draco lounging near Blaise. "Aren't you usually off bothering Granger by now?"

"Uh, yeah…" Draco muttered, his gaze flickering to Blaise, who wasn't moving a muscle. "I decided not to do that today."

"And why not?" Theo inquired.

Draco scowled a bit. "Who says I need to every day? I just didn't feel like it."

Theo pursed his lips. "By all means, I just can't remember the last time that happened."

"I can," Blaise interjected. "The day before the Quidditch match, he sent her back."

"You're really not helping, Blaise," Draco growled.

The other boy just shrugged, the ghost of a smirk on his features.

"I stand corrected," Theo deadpanned.

"What's it to you, anyway?" Draco asked.

Theo didn't reply. He didn't have to. Draco knew exactly why he was so interested in what was going on. What Draco couldn't figure out was why Theo had hardly made a move on Hermione. It had been more than a week since the… incident…. Surely, he didn't really blame her for it.

Draco lowered his eyes, almost afraid that Theo could read his mind if he saw them. This past week and especially these past couple of days, he'd come to realize that he had been solely responsible for what had happened that night. He had been the one to blame. He had wanted to kiss her for days before the match, not that he would even have admitted it to himself at the time, so he had ended up forcing it on her.

She hadn't wanted it then, and she wouldn't want it now. He didn't even really want it. This was Granger, for crying out loud. It must be the bond doing this to him somehow. The way he could feel her slightest reaction made him crave to make her react to his touch. It wasn't even as if he was in love with her or anything. He wasn't. He didn't even like her most of the time. He just wanted to feel her lips against his, as her body pressed against his… willingly offering the caresses he craved. Just once, he wanted to feel what he had felt when they had kissed the last time – without her being drunk or coerced.

Merlin help him, how he still wanted to kiss her. He kept looking at her, imagining her lips against his and the way her eyes had looked when they were dazed with want. Not to mention how it had felt, knowing he was the one who could make her feel so powerfully, make her melt in his arms. But, of course, she'd been drunk off her arse at the time, and it hadn't been about him at all. It still drove him insane that she would rather get it from others than him. He couldn't blame her, though. He'd been nothing but cruel to her, so why would she want to kiss him?

She wouldn't. Same as she wouldn't want to keep the bracelet on. He had nothing to offer that would change her mind on either score. Theo, on the other hand, could kiss her if he wished, and he did nothing. Draco wanted to shove him, to yell at him, to make him see what was right before him… but he couldn't. He couldn't let Theo know what he wanted. Besides, if Theo went for her and got her… if Draco had to feel how she felt when Theo kissed her… he would truly go mad.

He wasn't supposed to feel this way, and he kept hoping it would go away, but it wouldn't. He knew Theo would never forgive him if he knew he had these thoughts. He knew he was being a horrible friend, fantasizing about his best friend's almost-girlfriend. He just couldn't… help himself.

But how could he betray his best friend just for some physical obsession? Not that she would ever go for it. He saw the way she looked at him, felt how she felt around him. She wasn't excited like he was, her body didn't respond to his presence. She didn't feel him, nor did she want to. He would only make a fool of himself if he tried to kiss her again.

"You're both being awfully quiet," Blaise interrupted Draco's gloomy thoughts. "Is this how you plan on cheering me up? With long faces?"

"I wasn't aware we were cheering you up," Theo drily said.

"Yeah, me neither," Draco mumbled.

Blaise snorted. "Some friends you are, do I really need to give you a manual?"

"A manual would be good," Theo said, nodding thoughtfully. "That way we wouldn't have to guess."

"Don't tell me there's actually something you don't know," Draco said, raising an eyebrow.

"There are many things I don't know," Theo quietly said, "and one of them unfortunately happens to be how to mend a broken heart with words."

"Oh, words would mend it," Blaise sighed. "If only they were the right words and they came from the right person…"

Draco lowered his eyes again. This was making him uncomfortable. He knew nothing about broken hearts, and he knew nothing about what to say to make it better. He didn't think this was an appropriate conversation for… them. Wasn't all this stuff about feelings supposed to be for girls?

"I'm going to my room," he announced. "See you tomorrow."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "It's not even five yet. Aren't you coming up for supper?"

"Nah, not hungry," he muttered.

"Seems like you're coming down with something," Theo coolly said.

Draco fought back a wince at Theo's choice of words. "Yeah… seems like it…" He shuffled off.


Next update:

"You. Are. Unbelievable!" she snarled.

He raised an eyebrow. "Why, thank you," he coolly replied, taking the opportunity to annoy her further. Really, what was he supposed to say?

"I mean, I knew you were an intolerable, racially bigoted, inconsiderate, spoiled pureblood prat, but I didn't know you were also a male chauvinistic pig!"