Chapter Forty-Five

It took Harry a moment to recover Hermione's sudden burst of tears. Awkwardly at first, he put his arms around her as if unsure if that was okay when he was dating someone else. Perhaps it was the intensity with which she clung to him, or perhaps it was the sheer fact that Harry had never seen Hermione break down this way that helped him move past his disorientation.

It took a few minutes for her to stop crying. Very few people passed them, most of them politely ignoring the black-haired, bespeckled boy cradling the too-thin, sobbing girl with the masses of wavy brown hair. A few craned their necks shamelessly to get a better look and they were roundly ignored.

Once she was finished sobbing, Hermione told Harry everything. The rape, the loss of her parents, the discovery of her lineage, her grandmother, the engagement, being on-the-run, Draco's brother, the marriage, the revelation of the prophecy, everything Lucius threatened, everything they'd discovered… up until last night when McGonagoll had showed her and Draco the room.

She told him everything she had felt during those moments, even her least proud ones. She told him how she had begun to be okay with Draco after a time, but how much he confused her as well.

Once she was done explaining, Harry sat there in silence for a long while, stroking her hair, which was something he only did to Ginny – Hermione was sure he didn't notice he was doing it.

"Hermione," he finally said, "I think you've underestimated yourself. You are far braver than me. I could never handle all that."

Hermione bit her lip and sat up to face her friend, wiping the tears from her face, "There's something else…"

"I don't know how you could possibly have anything more," Harry answered incredulously.

"Last night… oh, Harry! It was the strangest thing! I was saying good-night to Draco – we have separate rooms in there, you know – and he suddenly looked so angry, like he could kill! And then he… then he…" she trailed off, hiccupping.

"What did he do, Hermione?" Harry's fist was clenched, knuckles white, on his knee. "Did he hurt you?"

"No, no, no," she corrected, wiping a few last tears from her face, "Harry, he… kissed me."

The statement hung, as if suspended in midair, between them.

"He… kissed you?" The fist unclenched. Harry blinked. "On purpose?"

Under any other circumstances, Hermione would had giggled – who kissed by accident? In this instance however, Hermione only nodded.

Harry's expression became thoughtful and he said nothing for quite some time. Hermione fiddled with her book-bag straps.

"Harry? We're going to be late for Potions," she finally interrupted his thoughts.

"Right," Harry said, snapping back into reality and gathering his things. "Er, you're sure you're okay to go to class?"

"I am. Oh, Harry, I feel so much better after having talked to you!"

"I'm glad you've told me, Hermione… we've all been so worried about you. And now we can help you search for the answer to what Lucius Malfoy is after!"

At this, Hermione's eyes widened, "Oh, please, please don't tell Ron! He'll never understand!"

Harry's brow furrowed, but he knew she was right. "Ginny?" he queried.

Hermione thought for a moment, "Yes, Ginny. But no one else… please?"

"Of course," Harry acquiesced. "You're right about Ron. He's, ah…"

"He's Ron," Hermione finished simply.

"Right."

.

.

True to his word, Harry told Ginny everything Hermione had told him and the three of them spent much of the next few days in the library, doing their best.

Hermione's heart soared. Even Ron was helping, although he'd been told they were looking up 'Grenadian Thestral Hoof Enamel' for a particularly nasty Potions essay Slughorn had assigned. No one really expected him to find much, being Ron, but it would have been suspicious if they hadn't at least given an excuse for the amount of time they were now spending in the library, poring over old tomes.

Hermione did not see Draco for days.

She still slept in their suite – all her things had been moved there, after all – and it was much more private than Gryffindor Tower.

There were signs that Draco still slept there, as well: his sheets were always messy every morning, and properly made every night. Wuthering Heights kept moving around the room, sometimes on the bookshelf, a chair, the table… even on the mantelpiece. Occasionally, a man's cloak would be slung over a chair, or a Slytherin scarf would appear. A pair of men's black dress shoes (Draco wore no other type) might be underneath the table… but Hermione never saw him.

She supposed he woke up earlier than her and returned after she'd fallen asleep. This was confirmed one night when she woke up around 3 o'clock in the morning to use the loo and found his bedroom door closed.

He was avoiding her on purpose, she knew. Though WHY, bothered her quite a bit: was he ashamed he'd kissed her? Remorseful? Embarrassed? And why, why, why had he looked so angry before he'd done it?

Hermione tried not to think about it, but it was difficult not to. It had been a truly spectacular kiss, after all. The softness of his lips lingering on hers… she kept being surprised by the chastity of it, as well. Not once had he attempted anything more than the touching of their lips – neither mouth had opened.

And then… he smelled so good. It wasn't a particular smell – it was a clean boy smell. Like soap and freshly cut grass, but not quite either of these things, at the same time.

At first, when Hermione reflected on these things, she immediately buried them, as she would have before she'd told Harry everything…

…But the more the thought surfaced in her mind, the more she indulged it. She had learned recently that feelings like these were like firecrackers in your hand: you could close your hand around it and have your fingers blown off… or you could open your hand and only get burnt a little.

"Something on your mind, Hermione?" Ginny inquired.

Hermione came back to reality and stared into the pair of brown eyes peering at her from over an enormous old book. She shook her head, "I'm sorry, I'm just distracted from this."

Though Hermione turned back to her own book, she could feel Ginny's eyes on her for a few moments longer.

Harry tumbled into the seat next to Ginny and addressed Hermione, "Hermione, I'm really not sure there's anything in here about it at all."

She sighed. "I can't say I'm surprised. If Adrian couldn't find anything in the library at Frankfurt…"

"It's stopped!" cried a voice from the other side of the library. "It's stopped! The rain has stopped!"

A second-year boy tore through the library crying the news. Students plowed across the library toward the windows to see for themselves, meanwhile shouts of excitement confirmed the news.

Hermione, Harry and Ginny quickly gathered their things and ran into the hallway, where students lined against the windows, cheering. Outside, boys and girls dressed in the Hogwarts black robes streamed onto the front lawn, their trainers sinking into the muddy earth with each step, and not caring a whit.

"It's true," Ginny confirmed, her smile spread wide.

Harry pecked her on the cheek in happiness. "Let's go rescue Ron from his Transfiguration essay and go outside," he suggested.

Hermione was about to agree enthusiastically, when a pale-faced, black-robed figure caught her eye. Turning, her eyes drank in the sight of Draco leaning against a pillar with Blaise Zabini.

As if he knew she was looking at him, he raised his eyes to meet hers. Whatever he saw in her expression, it did not discourage him – he somehow or other dismissed Zabini and deliberately began to walk over.

The first thing Hermione noticed were the dark circles like bruises beneath his eyes: he had not been sleeping well, it seemed. She knew, because she had the same circles on her face.

Ginny turned to say something to Hermione, possibly a suggestion to have lunch outside, when she spotted Draco walking toward her friend. She gave Harry a hard nudge in the ribs – it only took him a second to realize why.

Draco stopped in front of Hermione, about two steps away. He hadn't even registered Ginny or Harry standing there. Hermione's face was staring slightly up at him in his favorite way… he'd done a lot of thinking over the past week.

At first he regretted kissing her. Then he felt remorse for putting her through the confusion of it after everything else she'd been through. Then, for a whole day, he hated her, deeply and passionately. Then he didn't care. After he'd stopped caring, he regretted her again.

Once he'd been through all those emotions, he was finally able to assess her properly. What he discovered astounded him to no small degree – he liked the way her hair curled underneath her ears and the way she looked at him, almost never directly in the eyes: shy and reserved. The way her lips parted a little when deep in concentration… how she chewed on the nail on her thumb when deep in thought.

And when she DID look into his eyes, after he'd dug through the layer of hurt, he saw a deep river of molten courage that seemed to flow directly from her soul.

But he could not say all this to her.

Instead he said, "Hi."

She blinked. He loved her thick, dark eyelashes. "Hi," she responded.

He shifted his weight. "Would you, ah… care for a walk?"

She blinked again. "With you?"

He nodded only once. "With me," he confirmed.

Hermione threw a glance to Harry and Ginny, both of whom were wearing completely unreadable expressions. Draco noticed them for the first time.

"Of course, if I'm interrupting something…" he murmured, unable to rid himself of a sneer detectable in his voice when Harry was around.

They were beginning to attract third-party stares at this point. Some of the older students were even anticipating a fight. A Potter-Malfoy duel in the hallways was old hat to some of them.

"Would you mind?" Hermione asked her two friends.

Ginny looked at her friend as if she had three heads. Harry nodded and gave her an encouraging smile. "We were going to collect Ron and take a walk, as well. Maybe we'll bump into you. Come on, Ginny…" and taking Ginny by the arm, he led her, somewhat reluctantly, off toward Gryffindor Tower. One or two of the onlookers expecting a fight looked disappointed.

Draco cleared his throat and with a pointed look at Hermione said, "Shall we?"

.

.

Author's Note: Thanks loads and loads and loads and loads (more loads than all the laundry in my household, and that's saying something!) to my reviewers: xshaiyaxstar, hotttopicgirl, Novindalf, InvisibleLilacNights, sureynot, dg17, ImYourF-A-N, and aridnie! I love reviews and people who review are awesome! :-)