A/N: Right. I'm sorry for not updating any faster. School's started and I'm swamped! I'm supposed to be working on assignments instead of writing this but I thought hey, what the hell. Why not.

Warning: Lots of swearing.

I wasn't planning on doing a January in London chapter, but, this seemed like something that needed to be done. Enjoy! And please review.

Chapter 12: The London Times

Hermione:

After dragging him halfway across the world, I hadn't expected Draco to hit it off so well with everyone here. It was a very curious thing. Was he doing this to charm everyone's pants off and fix his botchered reputation or was he genuinely...sorry?

He really had nailed the part about him being a royal prat right on the head.

I personally didn't care either way. It was too good to be true. At this point in my life I'd learned that you absolutely don't question miracles when they come your way. I hadn't questioned the fact that Harry was a goddamned horcrux and I certainly won't question the fact that Malfoy has decided to be nice for a little while instead of his usual broody self in public and to my friends.

The gossip, though, was pure evil. It had spread its phoenix wings and burned like wildfire right through town. The guests who had attended the Weasley New Year's party had spread it on to their friends, who spread it on to their friends with added rumours of course, who spread it on to the tabloids. And boy did the tabloids rage and spread it on to everyone else who had any vague idea who I am.

Golden Girl Returns from America with Malfoy Heir:
The couple were seen gallivanting at the Weasley's annual New Year's charity events attended by only the most extravagant personalities and figures in the ministry...

Miracles Again: Potter and Malfoy Hit it off Famously!
...The Great Harry Potter has finally found a companion to balance his golden glory! A close insider who wishes to remain anonymous has reported that Potter and Malfoy have been playing quittich nonstop and seem to be inseparable...

Wedding Bells! Muggleborn in love with Pureblood!
The lucrative Hermione Granger has done it again. If relationships with Victor Krum, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were not enough famous personalities to attach herself to, Ms Hermione Granger has found her new conquest, none other than The Draco Malfoy, Britain's number one most eligible bachelor. It can only be assumed how Ms. Granger has done it again. Blackmail, treachery, coercion and a rumoured pregnancy has been suggested by experts...

And so on. It was absolutely atrocious. I was shocked at some of the rumours that had spread around. Particularly the one about me wanting to marry myself off to Draco for his fame and money- so that I could become even more famous and rich. By purposely making myself PREGNANT? That lie of course, was spread by none other than Rita Skeeter. Surprise, surprise?

And it was complete bullshit.

I was dodging the paparazzi everywhere, but Draco Malfoy completely enjoyed the attention. I shouldn't have been surprised at that. The man was lucid and he was a Malfoy. No need to elaborate there, really. What's worse is that Draco enjoyed himself to such an extent that he absolutely insisted we stay for another week at the very least.

Nothing worked to dissuade him of this horrid idea. When I complained about work, he laughed it off and said he'd already made the arrangements with the minister himself. I'd garnered another week off with full pay.

"But that's... abusing power!" I'd burned.

"What's power if you can't use it, doll?" What bothered me most about that statement was his genuine lack of understanding.

"You're supposed to treat power with proper respect! With great power comes great responsibility, you know," I'd admonished him, standing there with my hands to my hips.

But all he'd done was knocked me over onto the couch, laughing again at my enraged expression. "Oh don't look at me like that. You got that from a muggle movie!"

And we'd both dissolved into a fit of giggles when I finally admitted that, yes, I indeed had gotten that from a muggle movie. Too bad I can't come up with my own wisdom. Perhaps we'd be out of here by now... back to my lovely bed and life in New York without all these nasty rumours and evil mail...including the Howlers.

Who knew Draco had such a fan base? I suppose there's something to be said about the phrase "Britain's most eligible bachelor".

Instead, Draco somehow managed to convince Molly Weasley that staying at Harry's house, which is what we'd renamed the renovated The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, would be a better course of action for the rest of our holidays. How he managed to do this was beyond me... the sneaky smarmy git. Though perhaps her consent isn't so mysterious at all, seeing as Ron was spending the rest of his holidays at the burrow as well. I have never seen any of the Weasley's more disappointed in one of their own. Perhaps Draco is a little bit more of a sociopath than I'd anticipated...

I say this with the utmost affection, but he is a git. For the next week, I'll have to endure the sly glances and remarks of Harry and the damned questions.

"So how's the morning sickness going?" Harry had had the nerve to ask me one morning, with the most innocent look he could muster to his smug face.

"How's your mission to last longer than five minutes in bed going?" I responded, smirking, to which he glowed a bright crimson and everyone else present would laugh uproariously.

Check and mate! For a day or two at least.

One thing was for certain. Living with Draco entailed you certainly having to learn how to hold your own ground when engaging in banter.

Draco:

I knew what I was doing would only delay the madness, but what could I possibly do? I knew I was going mad, no one else needed to know this piece of information, though.

So I fibbed.

I persuaded Hermione that I actually enjoyed this godforsaken place and these people. Even Potter and the Weasley clan.

Like I could really give a proper fuck.

All I really needed was a huge distraction so that I could resist the temptation to go completely and blissfully blank. The concept would be on my mind almost constantly, except for when Hermione was there to distract me properly. But since we were in London and being harassed by practically everyone who lived on the island, that wasn't the best possibility. In hindsight, if I'd just gone back home and told her what was going on, she would have been able to help.

But just thinking of going back to New York, scared me shitless. Those streets, endless streets, masses of people to lose yourself in... no one to recognize you! I really was losing my mind.

But immersing myself into the role of "the fucker who wants to make up for his past mistakes" worked well. It's not exactly the fact that I don't care what any of them think. Potter, especially, has been kinder to me than I deserve. What, trying to ruin his life for seven years wasn't enough of an indication that I'm a bastard that should be left alone? Making amends takes up a lot of my mental space. Which is good, seeing as I need something there to fill it all up. So I am making friends I would have never dared speak to in the past, what with all of that ideological bullshit my father insisted I stick to.

Is it so bad, really? Wanting to be blank? I feel myself wanting to just itch towards the oblivion and I realize that it's sort of like a drug. Thinking about it makes me itch, and perhaps if I don't get the next dose soon enough, they'll find me shrivelled up on the Black's cold dusty floor, all blue and bloodless.

I'm not sure why I'd be bloodless, exactly. Perhaps a vampire found me during the night and had its fun. Who knows, staying in a house like Potters... do you think perhaps he enjoys the added sense of danger? Fucking psychotic kid. Yesterday, he almost chucked me off my broom, when we were playing and spent a half hour laughing about it. Laughing! I could've died!

It must be acknowledged, however, that I'm a brilliant fucking actor. Smiling when I really feel like hiding, squaring my shoulders and facing the world (however small a portion it is), and associating with people who aren't exactly the brightest bulbs of the lot is a huge job in itself.

Most people think I'm just trying to fix my family name. As if I could care anymore about something like that. Infamy is something to leech off of, not to avoid.

Others think I'm attempting to get in with the golden trio and marry myself off to Hermione, or the other way around. I can't recall what the silly tabloids have been going on about these days, even though Hermione cares an awful lot more than she should. Silly girl is self conscious for no apparent reason... she is the most beautiful woman in the world, and the nicest most charitable person one could ever meet. What does she have to be afraid of, really, from these gossip hounds?

I must say, though, if I really wanted to get with a woman, I definitely wouldn't need to try as hard as they're making it seem.

Also, note to self: Stop talking so much to Hermione, you're starting to think like her mate. No wonder she's a bit crazy.

/

If I remember correctly, it was a Thursday when Ron Weasley came to see me. I had been reading and had dozed off in an armchair in the dusty library. Hermione had gone out with Harry to pick up a few groceries, or something of the sort. It couldn't have been past noon, when the putrid house elf Kreacher came in and announced the arrival of the obviously unwanted guest.

He just stood there awkwardly and I made it a point to glare. Because of this fucking twat I was slowly becoming mentally unhinged! My resistance peeling back slowly, layer by goddamned layer as I became more inclined towards the option of becoming an unwanted vegetable-

"Listen, I came here to-"

"You obviously know you're not welcome here," I cut him off pointedly.

"I know, I-"

"You should be aware I'm not interested in any of the nonsense you're here to spew. What, did your mother send you?" It was obvious that she had when he flushed a most unappealing shade of red.

"Look," he continued, putting his hand up to indicate he was going to say whatever it is he had to say. I stood up. "I'm sorry, alright? I was out of line."

I stalked toward him and made sure that I was looking down at him, even though he's a good few inches taller than me. Pulling my wand out, I twirled it in nimbly between my fingers before addressing him. I could see his eyes trailing my wand movements. "Is that all?"

He nodded slowly.

"I suggest you leave. Now. Before I do something drastic, you little fucker," I enunciated every syllable. His mouth opened, in surprise, perhaps to retort or make some sort of response in defence of himself. Useless, really. "No, you've had your chance to spew bullshit, now you can listen to what I have to say. You're going to stay away from me, and while you're at it, stay away from Hermione too. Run along now, I'm sure no one wants to catch you here."

I could tell he was furious at my boldness. What did he expect, really? That I just lay down like a dog and accept his no good apology? Bastard could run back to his mother and shove it right back where it came from for all I cared. I simply wanted to get back to my tolerable existence, preferably before Hermione came back.

"Draco, where are you?" I heard, as the door simultaneously slammed shut. I suppose luck wasn't on my side that day and carrot top must have thought so too, because I could see him visibly pale at the sound of her voice.

"I'll be right there," I called back, hoping she wouldn't come and find me. She was still explicably mad at the ginger freak of nature, which I found endearing. That didn't mean, however, that I wanted her to yell at me for allowing him in here. That was an unnecessary headache that I would love to avoid.

I made my way towards the hallway to go down the stairs to the kitchen, where I'd assumed she'd be, but she was discussing something with Harry, still standing near the front door. To my trepidation and clear annoyance, I realized Weasley had followed me when the pair fell silent and slightly astonished at my choice of company.

I grimaced when I saw Hermione's eyes narrow.

"What is he doing here?" she growled at me.

"He was just leaving," and I gestured towards the door to emphasize my point. But the idiot obviously didn't get it.

"I came to apologize to Mal-Draco," he said, quite bravely in fact. The man was either very stupid or was idiotically brave. Either way, he was going to get his. She turned to look at me to confirm this and I just shook my head and rolled my eyes. Harry obviously sensing the danger present decided he was going to grab the groceries and take them to the kitchen, promptly disappearing down the stairs.

"You have some nerve coming here!" she ground out, as if looking at the man was a painful experience. I suppose some could say it was, what with all the freckles and red hair... "Well? What are you waiting for? Leave."

"I'm sorry, Hermione, what else do you want from me?"

"I want you to leave us alone, is what I want-" she was slowly becoming more frustrated with his presence and I could sense she would blow up any second.

"That's so rich! You leave me stranded with absolutely no explanation and run off to America and sleep with...with a fucking ferret! You're really going to choose him over me? I can't believe you'd be such a bitch-"

Before she could even respond, I had him pinned to the wall with my arm clasped around his neck, cutting off his air supply. "You will not talk like that to a lady, do you understand?" He didn't respond, his face slowly turning redder and redder...

"Draco, let him go, it's okay," I heard Hermione say.

I turned around to see her horrified face, distracted, before my head was reeling. The weasel had taken advantage of my distraction, broken loose and punched me square in the temple. Growling, I got up and attacked him, satisfied when I heard a crack and him cry out.

Then the fight began in earnest, fists flying, blood pouring out of my nose constricting my breathing abilities, and I'm sure I had given him at least a black eye. Hermione, for the most part, went insane. She shouted for Harry to come separate us, and attempted to diffuse the situation herself, yelling at us to stop. But I had no inclination. I hated, absolutely loathed, this mother fucking son of a –

But then, my world stopped dead in its tracks.

Throughout our scuffle we had managed to travel somehow a bit down the hallway. Hermione, being the silly witch that she is, attempted to pull him off me or try to come in between us so the bastard would back away. Her plan didn't work, needless to say and instead she was tossed towards an open door, falling down a flight of stone stairs with a look of surprise plastered on her face.

My heart stopped and I was making my way down the stairs before I could even feel the fear crawl up my spine. Weasley just stood there like an idiot looking dumbstruck.

My voice choked in my throat when I saw her sprawled lifelessly on the floor, blood pooling under her and her limbs placed awkwardly. Then, I nearly died, when upon further inspection I found she had landed on a crate, which had cracked open and had smashed open several bottles of purple substance, which were smoking. Her entire midriff was soaked – and smoking.

I had her wrapped in my sweater and ready to apparate to St. Mungos before Potter even arrived. He came just in time to take in the situation and grasp onto my arm before I apparated the two of them and myself to the emergency ward, yelling for help, which mercifully came immediately.

/

The next few hours of my life were the longest I'd ever spent just sitting there wordlessly staring at the tiled floor while they dealt with my poor, poor Hermione. Harry had managed to calm me down enough to this state and allow the other healers to heal my minor injuries.

Every so often someone would pop in who had heard (news really did travel fast here for some odd reason), and would offer me their condolences and some support that I never really took in or bother to hear. I just sat there and stared at the floor. Unless a healer scurried out of the room at which I looked up hopefully, and then retreat back to my soulless state when they ignored me and went back to their business.

I found it hard to breathe, after the second hour. It was painful to make myself inhale and even worse to let the air out. My mind was reeling, racing, dying... it was torture.

I couldn't lose her, I couldn't bear it, and she couldn't leave me now! She couldn't...

/

By the eighth hour they were encouraging me to eat something. Slowly nagging at first, then forcefully prodding me to consume whatever it was they had brought.

By the ninth hour I had agreed and violently retched and threw up the contents of my stomach all over the floor. I'm not sure which healer had come to clean it up, or if it was a healer at all, but after that they did not nag me anymore.

By the fifteenth hour, the trickle of healers scurrying out of the room they had placed Hermione in had trickled to about one or two repeated faces. I still couldn't help the small flurry of hope that sprung up every time one of them exited. But when they did not address me with any news, I sunk back into myself and waited, praying, hoping, wishing...

By the twentieth hour they began encouraging me to go back home and sleep and that everything here was under control.

By the twenty-second hour, they had given up on that too.

Eight hours later:

The demon had the nerve to show up here. Ronald Weasley was going to die. If I had my want on my person I surely would have killed him right there. I knew I had enough hatred in me for it to actually work. I did not even care about the repercussions. Without her, it was all meaningless anyways.

I settled instead for a few well placed hits, and he didn't defend himself. He was not worthy to be breathing the same air as her, surely, and she wasn't far away. I had to get him away from here, lest he hurt her further.

But he just stood there, unashamedly, a few tears present on his face.

"Leave," I hissed, anger rolling off me in waves.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "Tell her I'm sorry." Then he made to leave.

"I am going to ruin you, mark my words. You aren't going to last long here, you hear me, you worthless piece of shit?"

His eyes narrowed. "You've got nothing here, Malfoy. Your family name isn't exactly the strongest, you know. I'm not sorry for anything I've ever done to you. I came here to apologize to 'mione, so-"

"Get the fuck out of here, if you know what's good for you!" I shouted, which attracted some attention and had the security guard coming up to us to see what the issue was.

"Is there a problem here, Mr. Malfoy?"

I nodded towards the offender. "This is the man who assaulted Ms. Granger and I'm not comfortable with him being around here. He might hurt her again," I said, putting a weak effort into controlling myself and not beating the bastard to a bloody pulp.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave..."

And beyond that I didn't pay any attention, opting to sit back down in my silent purgatory. I was vaguely aware of the ruckus the idiot was causing at being forcibly removed from the premises but I really didn't care. When the guard returned, I addressed him.

"Would you mind bringing me a quill and some parchment?"

"Right away, sir."

It was time the Minister of Magic remove unworthy trash from his list of employees.

A/N: I personally like Draco's lucid character better. What do you think?