Author's Note: Ah, I feel like it's been forever since I last worked on this. Sad! I hardly have any of my buffer left… every post has been chipping away at it, and I don't have time to write more because of midterms :/ I'll definitely let you guys know ahead of time if I have to take a break, but I'll try my best not to let that happen.

On a happier note, here's the next chapter!

Chapter 75

I feel as though a bucket of ice water has just been poured over my head.

The air feels so painfully cold to me.

My vision is awful—I see blurred shapes, one of which seems to be moving toward me. I instinctively back away and lift my wand at the oncoming figure.

It stops advancing, and I hear blurred speech in a male's voice. I shake my head in an attempt to convey the fact that I can't understand him. He stops speaking and just stands there, waiting for me to recover.

Merlin, what just happened to me?

I inhale deeply.

I'm in Draco's kitchen—I recognize the woodsy smell, combined with the odor of the numerous cauldrons stored here. Most ingredients and potions are in cupboards that seal away smell, so those scents are kept clear of the kitchen proper.

I blink a few times, and the fuzzy shapes come into sharp focus.

Draco is standing a few feet away from me, watching me with a concerned, wary expression. A bit to the left of his shoulder, I can see Ron bound to the wall, seemingly unconscious. What just hap…

Before I can finish the question, I suddenly remember.

I thought I was going to die. I thought Draco wanted me to choose between watching him strangle Ron and poisoning myself.

I lock eyes with him, and I can tell from his expression that he knows I'm back.

Back from what?

My eyes widen as memories begin to flood into my head.

I catch pieces of conversations that I had with Harry, with Blaise, with Draco, with Ron. I see a look of disappointment on Blaise's face. I recall bewilderment on Harry's face. Ginny's skeptical expression surfaces in my head as I tell her that I'm sure about my feelings for Ron.

My feelings for Ron.

Suddenly I feel sick to my stomach.

"Hermione," Draco says in a soft voice.

My eyes snap back to his, and I remember the smooth blankness of his face the night that he came at my request. The words that I said to him begin to surface, and my eyes begin to burn.

I open my mouth, but no sound comes out.

"Are you all right?" he asks tentatively.

I don't know what to feel—fury with Ron, disgust with my own actions, or remorse for everything I did and said to Draco. I take a deep breath and step toward the tall blond.

"I… I'm so sorry," I murmur.

The concern on his face fades away, but it isn't replaced by relief or happiness, or even anger—when I look into his grey eyes, I see only a strange emptiness.

"Don't worry about it," he replies.

His tone is too similar to the one he used that night, and there's a sharp pang in my chest that not even my wrath toward Ron can overcome as I realize just how deeply I wounded him.

"Draco… can you wait in your room with Naree for a minute? I have to deal with Ron, and then I'll… I have to talk to you."

He nods. "I have nowhere else to go, anyway."

I remember that he's now a fugitive, that Neville sold him out. Merlin, I've been out of my mind for far too long—so much has happened. Neville betrayed us! Surprise hits me anew as the thought crosses my mind.

Then I hear the kitchen door close with a snap, signaling Draco's departure.

I move toward Ron and point my wand at him. "Rennervate."

His eyelids flutter. Then he opens his eyes a crack. They widen when they catch sight of me. "Hermione," he says.

"Hello, Ron," I say.

"Let me down."

I glare at him. "Really? Do you really think I'm about to help you right now? Who do you think I am?"

He stares at me mutely.

"So, you have nothing to say. Is that because you know your actions are unjustifiable, or is it because you're too thick to even think to apologize to me?"

"I…" his voice fades.

"Pathetic," I hiss at him. "How dare you use a Love Potion on me? I trusted you! I considered you one of my closest friends, Ronald!"

"I just thought that… that if you saw how good it could be—"

"How good it could be? Tell me, Ron, how could it possibly be good if I was completely out of my mind? Did you honestly think that I would never snap out of it? That no one would ever save me?"

As I speak these words, I realize that it's taken a disproportionately long amount of time for someone to finally give me a Love Potion Antidote. I'm surprised that Harry, Blaise or Draco didn't do something about this sooner—from what I remember, Harry and Blaise certainly had their suspicions that something fishy was going on. I'm going to get down to the bottom of this.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Ron mumbles.

He looks at me with something akin to hope in his eyes, and I can't stand the fact that he thinks I could possibly forgive him after so small a gesture. I'm so furious that I lose control for a moment. My hand flies up of its own accord and gives him a hard slap across the cheek.

When he turns his head back to face me, he looks hurt.

"Don't even try to make me feel guilty, Ronald Weasley. You deserved that, and more. You took away my free will. If you had been there when Harry, Blaise and I were discussing Communimency this morning, you would know that I consider that an act of Dark magic."

He manages to look contrite.

"I'm not going to let you down from there," I say. "You're going to hang there until someone decides to have pity on you. And after I'm through with Harry and Blaise, I'm fairly certain that they won't feel so inclined to help you. Not for a while."

"Hermione, please—don't just leave me here," he begs.

"Do you think you deserve to walk away with no punishment, after what you did? You're vile. I don't even want to speak to you anymore."

"I'm really, really sorry, Hermione! I just love—"

"Don't say that you love me!" I interrupt him angrily, pointing my wand at him in warning. "If you loved me, you would respect me! You wouldn't be able to force yourself on me!"

"I never—" he begins to protest.

"Yes, you did. You forced me to have feelings for you," I say.

"I didn't—"

A bright red spark flies from the tip of my wand and hits him directly in the chest, zapping him. He cries out in pain as the spark electrocutes him. But seeing his pain doesn't do anything to lighten the heavy weight in my chest.

Draco is still waiting for me.

"Don't try to argue this point with me," I say to Ron, flicking my wand to remove the spark. "You know that what you did was wrong."

He falls silent, breathing hard.

"You know, I wanted to preserve our friendship. I still thought of you as one of my closest friends, even when you were being annoying and clingy. But I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive you for this," I say, turning and heading for the door.

I'm bluffing, and I know it. I've always been too quick to forgive, too quick to forget. Blaise told me so a long time ago, and I'm sure that he's right. He's always right about me. I know that I'll find the strength to forgive Ron someday, but it won't be today.

As I reach the door, I turn back to look at him. He's hanging his head.

"Goodbye, Ron," I say.

He doesn't respond, so I pull the door open and exit the kitchen.

The living room looks the same as it usually does, and I was here just a few minutes ago, but I feel as though I haven't really been here for days. Damn you, Ronald Weasley.

I move to Draco's bedroom door and pause.

What should I say to him? What can I say to him? He knows that I was under the influence of Ron's potion, but the words must have hurt him deeply at the time. In all likelihood, they still hurt him now. I turn the knob and push the door open.

He's sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at the ground. As I step into the room, he looks up at me.

"Can I speak to you, alone?" I ask.

Draco gives Naree a slight nod. The house-elf gets out of bed and exits the room promptly.

"Where is he—" I begin to ask.

"He'll go to the guest room," Draco replies. "What do you have to tell me?"

"I'm sorry."

"You said that already," he says.

"Then I felt that I had to say it again."

He doesn't respond, and we both fall silent. I move toward him, stopping only when I'm standing directly in front of him. I reach down and pick up his hands, pulling upward. He lifts his head to look at me.

"Get up," I tell him.

He gets to his feet, humoring me, but pulls his hands away. My hands feel so incomplete, and I itch to grab his hands again, but I don't want to anger him.

"Draco, why didn't you fight for me?" I ask softly.

He stares at me, frowning. "Don't you remember what you said to me?"

"Of course I do—that's what I just apologized for. But you… you should have said something, done something. Anything. Why did you just… believe me?"

"I guess I always suspected…" his voice fades away before he can finish the thought, and he starts to turn his face away from me.

No, that won't do. I lift my hands up to grip his head, holding it in place.

His surprised eyes meet mine. "What are you doing?"

"I'm telling you not to hide from me," I say firmly.

Then I yank his head down and kiss his lips. He immediately pulls back and moves to the side, trying to get away from me. Our lips separate, but I manage to keep a hold of his head, shifting with him so that I'm still right in front of him.

"Granger—"

"Draco, I don't want anything like this to happen, ever again. You can't suspect anything. I want you to know that I… that I have feelings for you," I say.

He's avoiding my eyes again, and I want to scream in frustration. Every memory of what I said to him is torture to me. Doesn't he understand that it was all Ron's fault? I know that I've hurt him, that he wants to be careful. But why can't he accept my real feelings? He accepted the false ones easily enough!

"Draco, you have to believe me," I say. "You know I was under the influence of a potion."

His eyes finally meet mine again, and I can see that he's closed himself off. Despair falls in my chest like a lead weight. What'll it take for him to open up to me?

"I do believe you. But I can't let that happen to me anymore," he says. "I don't want to expose myself to that sort of vulnerability again."

I close my eyes and exhale deeply through my nose. "Don't you understand? If you know my feelings—really know them—then it can't happen again, because you'll know what's wrong right away."

His hands come up to wrap gently around my wrists, and I know that he's planning to push me away.

"No, Draco," I say.

His hands pause, still encircling my wrists, and I open my eyes to look at him. His liquid silver eyes are mere inches from mine.

"Give me the chance to prove my feelings for you," I say. Then an idea occurs to me. "You owe me."

He raises an eyebrow. "Explain."

"Remember the bet that you proposed and that I won?"

Now he looks wary. "Yes."

"So you remember what you set as the stakes," I say.

He nods.

"I know what I want you to do for me, now."

His eyes narrow just a fraction.

I close my eyes and lean up on tiptoe to taste him again, sliding my hands around to grip the back of his head.

"I want you to take me, tonight," I whisper against his lips. His entire frame stiffens, and I can't resist adding, "I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine."

Author's Note: Oops! Was that too forward? ;)