A/n: Last for now.ü I'm working on the next one and it's halfway done.ü

I'll try to post it as soon as I typed the last period.ü

Meanwhile, enjoy this a moment.ü

Here we go again.ü

Chapter 31

Dilemma: The Sequel

It was a pleasant morning, waking up to the greeting of the warm sunlight washing through the slips of the curtains draping over the windows. It was another normal day, a day of studying and learning.

She made sure her uniform was straightened and clean, the dark robe a little crisp of starch and ironing. Her pack was all set with her books, notebooks, parchment, and her most trusted quill with a bottle of ink. She double checked her homeworks and essays, tying her pack an extra knot just in case Malfoy planned to do something with it again. Her schedule marked, her classes lined up, she was sure she's ready to face whatever the day has got to offer. She smiled at her dorm door, prancing gracefully toward it with a flaunty toss of her skirt, and a rhythmic sway of her curls at her shoulders, just as youth would allow her to.

But as she opened the door, shadows swept in, staining the light washed room, almost staggering her in shock. She heard the heavy thump of her books, the soft snap of her quill, and the shrill ripping of her robe echoing through the sudden silence enveloping her along with the darkness. She sat still, realizing she had fallen to her knees, and quietly tried to even her ragged, shallow breathing. Her hands touched cold stone, grimy and foul. She raised a hand to her nose, trying to filter the smell seemingly growing stronger by the minute. But as she took one slow breath, she recognized that metallic, coppery scent, her eyes widening at the realization.

It was blood. And she just smeared some on her face.

She jerked away from where she was, but as she moved her legs, she felt the drying blood slide by her skin, covering her more. She let out a cry, trying to wipe away at the red stain on her hands and clothes.

Where was she?

What was happening?

She tried to calm herself, shutting her eyes a moment, giving in to her urge of crying. She shouldn't panic. There's always a logical explanation for this. A reasonable one.

But she knew she was bloody sure of one thing: She's trapped in a dark, cold room.

She checked herself amidst her sobs if she was wounded, wanting a logical explanation for the blood. But even if she couldn't see clear in the dark, she knew it wasn't hers.

Exasperated, she tried to see through the dark, her irises finally adjusting. She could already see the silhouette of a door, and another side of a wall, extending to the embrace of the shadows lurking ahead. She wasn't sure how big the room was, but somehow, she knew the door was locked.

She tried to stand up, ignoring the wobbling of her knees. She had to do something, find anything to escape.

She only had to know if there's a window, a loose rock, or a hole available.

Tracing her hands slowly on the wall, she measured the size of the room, noting corners and scanning for holes. Trailing the third turn; her foot caught something, almost bringing her down to the floor again. She choked on a scream, her eyes tearing up again. Shaking her head to clear it, she swallowed hard and slowly leaned down to touch whatever was blocking her way, ignoring the tremors traveling down and up her arms and legs. She recognized clothes, a cold hand, and a chest that was heaving for breath.

Alarmed, she struggled to see through the dark and stare at the face, her hands grasping at the robes.

It only took those two green emerald eyes to have shivers down her back.

"Harry…?" She choked, touching his cheek, stained with blood and dirt.

He only stared at her, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. "Hermy…" He reached for her hand, groping. "Stay… Don't… Don't leave me…"

"I…" She cried now, her sobs bouncing off the walls of the room. "I won't…"

"Don't leave me… Please…" He said before his irises widened, his hand falling off from hers.

Her face was ravaged in tears when she woke up, her body clammy and shaking violently against the mattress. Her hands and feet were frozen even if thick blankets covered her entirely, and her throat felt raw and tight from unconscious weeping.

Sitting up, she pulled her legs to her arms and buried her face in her knees. She was rocking herself for full five minutes before she managed to swing her feet away from the bed and walk steadily to Draco's just across from hers.

She stood there for a moment, staring at him, seeing his silhouette lying flat on the bed, his face facing the ceiling. It surprised her to realize it calmed her just to see him there, alive, real.

Shuddering, she gently ran a hand through her face, suddenly feeling exhausted.

The slight movement woke him, jolting his eyes open, taking him from the shallow sleep he dwelled. Sensing her, he slowly sat up, letting the sheets slide easily over his body. He stared back at her with his calm silver eyes, watching her with the same intensity as she did.

It was only a glance at her vulnerable eyes that told him something was wrong.

"You're up?" He muttered, his voice raspy from misuse.

She shrugged jerkily. "I just…" She bit her lip, holding back another shudder. "Is it okay if I… if I stay with you?"

"Of course." He answered, keeping his voice low. He knew if he spoke a degree higher than he did, she might jerk in a fit of panic.

Lifting the sheets and patting the bed beside him, she stepped closer to him and almost fluidly slid into him. His arms were around her as she buried her face in his throat.

"You're shivering." He muttered, resting his lips on top of her head.

"Hold on just a minute."

He took the sheets and covered it around them, slowly leaning back on the pillows with her atop him.

She just stayed that way, letting the tremors of the nightmare fade away, replacing the stench of blood with his scent, the coldness of the bloody grounds with the warmth of his skin.

He felt her fingertips reach for his face, slowly tracing his jaw and his neck. And when she reached his chest, her palms lingered just above his heart, letting the steady beat pound them softly.

Placing his hand above hers, he closed his eyes and rested his cheek on the top of her head, running his other hand up and down her arm, calming her tremors. Hearing her sigh, he tangled their joined hands in a mesh and kissed it. "What's wrong?"

She only closed her eyes and stayed still. "I had a nightmare."

"You want to tell me about it?"

She looked up at him, and relieved him to see the vulnerability he found there almost gone, fading into a wisp of exhaustion. "Maybe." She frowned. "I don't know if it was just a nightmare… a dream… or…." She shot up from the bed, looking down at him. "Or a memory."

He sat up too, his skin still tingling from her touch. He tried to shake it away, and just concentrated on the words she was saying. "You remembered something."

"Perhaps. I'm not sure." Her eyes started to sheen again. "Harry was there… He was there…" Her shoulders violently shook, seeing his green emerald eyes staring back at her… dead.

He moved closer and gathered her to him, slowly rocking her. "Shh… You can sleep it off for a while if you want."

"No. I don't want to sleep." Her voice shook, threatening to break. "I don't want to be there again."

"You're safe here. You're going nowhere." He whispered to her ears, running his hands up and down her jerky arms. "I'm going nowhere."

Gulping back a bawl, she reached up and clutched his shirt, clinging to him. "I can still see him…. The room…. A dungeon… and the blood. All that blood." She shook her head. "And Harry… he's dead. Oh God, he's dead."

His eyes hardened, his voice lowered, feeling the blood on his body drain out to his feet. "What did you see, Hermione?"

"He's dead… He died in my arms…" She wept now. "Oh God…. He died in my arms…"

He held her tighter, not knowing what to do for her. "That was a long time ago, Hermione."

"I can still see him… His eyes… they're dead."

"Hermione." He pulled her back, lifting her chin for her to face him. "That was a long time ago."

She nodded, wiping at her face with her hands. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have wakened you with this."

"That's bullshit." He pointed out blandly, now regretting his cowardice. "Don't pull back, Hermione. I'm sorry."

Her hand absently touched her belly, her eyes staring at particularly nothing. It almost made him smile to notice this new habit of hers. But seeing her hands still tremble from shock worried him more.

He took them in his and planted a kiss on each of them. "I can get you some water, if you wan—"

"No! Don't." She yelped, surprising him. "Don't leave me."

"I won't." He said, idly touching her curls.

She stared at him, noting he suddenly gone pale. She mustn't tell him about it in the first place, she thought. Pressing the heels of her hands on her eyes, she sighed and calmed herself.

"I'm okay. I'm okay now."

"You can tell me about it."

She shook her head, then tried to smile, ending up with a crooked one. "It was only a nightmare." She shrugged, shaking off the tremors still lingering under her skin. "It's over now."

He didn't speak for a moment, standing up from the bed, pacing beside it. "I'm sorry, all right? We shouldn't just shake it off like that." He turned to her. "We should talk about this."

She looked at him, knowing it shook him no more than it shook her. "What else should be said? It was a stray memory. I don't know what to make of it."

He nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his palms. "You saw Potter?"

"Yes." She mumbled, sighing heavily. "He… he's dead." She said again. "He died a long time ago."

"What else did you see?"

"I…" She shut her eyes, her head suddenly throbbing. "I… I don't want to remember."

"All right." Damn it. "All right. You should rest for a while."

"I don't want to sleep."

"You can just lie down. Just relax. We'll deal with this in the morning."

Staring at his back, she wanted to scream from helplessness. Either way, it'd be hard for both of them. Not noticing it until now, she realized they'd been avoiding talking about this from the very beginning. And now that the opportunity is clearly given, she couldn't take it without any hesitation.

Bloody damn. She's scared as hell.

Huffing out a breath, she closed her eyes and decided. It'd be now, or never.

"I said before, when we talked, that I wanted to remember everything. I still do, and it seems like these dreams I'm having are another way for that to be achieved. But…" She swallowed hard, feeling a thick lump climbing her throat. "It scares me… It scares the bloody hell out of me."

He sat still, listening to her. He could feel his heart in his chest pounding hard in anticipation of every word she said.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. He told her about this just 3 years ago, by a letter he sent when he was coward enough to leave her than face her. (See Dilemma Part One for more information about this part.ü) And now, he had to go through all that crap again. It wasn't time. He knew he'd be able to tell her everything one day… some day…

He only feared that day would be now.

It's just two times too many.

"You never asked about it."

She dragged her gaze to his back, filmed with sheen. "About what?"

He stood again, bracing himself for the worst. "About what really happened to Potter, to the war, to you…"

She shivered as she watched his eyes grow from icy cold to intense burning. She didn't know what was behind those eyes, what it burned from within. "I never asked because I know you would tell me..." Her hand suddenly fell limp on her side, helplessly clutching the sheets as if to stable herself. "…when it's the right time. And besides, you've told me enough."

"Not everything." He pointed out, his feet shaking to pace. But he just stood still, his hands jammed in his pockets. "I can tell you everything you want to know. Every detail…" ..of that nightmare… "You just tell me if you want me to or not. Because I don't think I'd be able to say everything or any of it another time."

"You're giving ultimatums."

"Take it or leave it."

She stared back at him in disbelief. "It's not that easy, Draco."

"Oh, that much I know." He hissed, pacing now. "You just give me the go signal, Hermione, and we'll get this bloody wall hanging before us cleared off." He wanted to strangle anything, kick something, beat something.

But as she just sat there, he only satisfied himself by fisting his hands hidden in his pockets, leaving red welts on his palms.

After what seemed to be an eternity, she stood up too, leaving the bed in between them. "If this is how you think it should be, fine. I'm all ears." She spat, hating him for putting them both in this awkward position.

Hearing the annoyance in her voice almost comforted him enough. He could handle anger better than he could handle fear. Releasing his hands from his pockets, he stood still and rested his hip on a window pane, letting his voice fall into a passive tone. "Voldemort and his men assembled for attack that chosen day a decade ago. First line of assault was this school, knowing Potter is contained in it." He spoke as if it was only one of his business reports he'd done for so many times now. But, oddly, he'd never felt as anxious as he had now, speaking to this particular audience. "Every portal and transportation is used to get to anywhere in completion of the take over, killing thousands of students, professors, parents, slaves, and anything that existed. Hostages were taken, prisoners were tortured, and casualties increased. Potter, Ron, and you escaped from that first assault, with the help of Hagrid and his exotic pets. Most of them were destroyed, and Hagrid was taken as you three escaped. He was held hostage to where he hid Potter, was questioned and tortured for numerous times. He was only released because Voldemort knew he'd say nothing, but he'd surely go to Potter as soon as he got out.

"They tailed him, and his only mistake was doing exactly what Voldemort expected. As everything ran in chaos, Hagrid found you three and tried to tell you everything he learned in his captivity. And that's where you were all taken, with Hagrid left to die."

Her face was stoic, her eyes straight and focused on him.

He took that as a sign to continue. "I was one of the men who captured you, and dealt with Hagrid afterwards. We outnumbered you, and you had no other choice but to go with us." He could still see that scene in his head, his body covered in black cloaks, his face hidden behind the shadows of their hoods, just like the other puppets of Voldemort with him. "The others secured the three of you and brought you to a portal. And I was left with Hagrid."

He couldn't. He couldn't possibly have killed… Her eyes stung with the fresh tears forming around her lids, but she blinked them away, and focused her eyes on his face again.

He tried to ignore her tears, and forced himself to continue. "Before I could do anything to him, Professor Dumbledore arrived, supposed to meet the three of you. But then, you were already gone, and I was just about to…" He paused, just a split second. "… to deal with Hagrid. He tried to stop me, leaving me no other choice but to deal with him as well. But then, I ended up not killing Hagrid, but crippling Dumbledore."

She wondered what happened to the Professor when they arrived, but thought of it rude to ask. But now that he told her, she only wished she didn't know.

"Hours turned to days, days turned to weeks. You and Ron were held captive, which could explain the dungeon in your dream." He looked at her, trying to watch out for any reaction from her. Receiving nothing, he continued. "I didn't know what else happened to both of you then. Probably you're both in a dungeon with the other prisoners most of the time. I was sent to other places to capture anything and anyone useful for questioning. And in the process, I've killed many.

"Voldemort was becoming desperate that time, when Potter managed to escape away from his grasps. Groups were made, alliances were built, and some sectors fought with some of Voldemort's, causing him some damages. Some of his people died, and his army was weakening from the different bases Potter managed. Voldemort called in his special forces," Death Eaters... his puppets, "and sent them out for the hunt. When Potter was found, he was tortured, beaten, and cursed with all the curses Dark Arts could offer. I was there when the chosen day of his killing was decided."

He wanted to stop, feeling the sickening bile pool in his mouth. But he swallowed it, continuing. "I was one of Voldemort's special forces, alongside my father. And it was expected from me to do the execution." He could still see that cold dungeon, the face of his father crooked into a smile in thirst for blood. "I didn't understand why. But he kept on saying I was the key… A key. To obtain the most precious thing he ever wanted. Potter's death."

She couldn't stand anymore, feeling her knees buckle under her. Sitting back down on the bed, she didn't notice the tear slipping down her cheek, her eyes wide in shock.

He wasn't looking at her anymore. He couldn't. "But I was a traitor. I was born one. I betrayed the school, Professor Dumbledore, and the students. And right after, I betrayed my father and Voldemort as well, by not taking the potion given to us in battle. I helped some prisoners to escape under their noses, and pretended I was dozed with that potion they used on every slave they took over, just to ensure their complete control."

He tried to speak as if he was just telling a story, distant, removing himself from all of it. But she could see clearly the emotions swirling in him, the way his hand trembled, the way they crept up to his hair to rake it again and again, the way his blood drained from his face, and the way his gaze lay on everything but her.

She wanted to go to him, hold him and touch him, wanting to take him away from that living nightmare she never knew existed. She couldn't imagine those horrors he went through, the terrible effects on war on him. But, instead of walking over to him, she sat still, and let him finish.

"They found out about that and put me under a spell, like a drone controlled by a remote. They set me out and killed more. Murdered more… Captured more… Tortured more… Just so Voldemort could prove to me that he was more powerful… greater… I quenched his thirst for blood, his demand for more power." He looked at her now, his body braced for anything that will happen after this. "And I was the one who finally took Potter's life, stabbing him with the poisoned dagger that killed him for six years, slowly."

He stood up now, disgusted with himself, and turned to the window, his back to her. "Potter saved all of us, of course. Even me. Before Voldemort could kill me as well, he used all of the power left in him and defeated that Sonofabitch." He spat the last word, wanting to shave off his tongue. "And that's how that damned war ended."

She nodded at his back, seeing it now. He wanted her to be disgusted with it, be disgusted with him. "You'd rather I didn't understand."

"Hell, I brought you here, didn't I?" He dragged his hands through his face, his anger slowly clawing at him. "You wanted to know everything. I just gave you a handout."

"I'm sorry." She paused, her voice husky from weeping. "I didn't want to make things difficu—"

"Don't." He whirled to her, his eyes burning deep with pure rage. For himself. For his past. "Damn it. Don't apologize to me."

Her lips quivered, her hands trembled. But then, feeling her own temper fluster in her chest, she angled her chin up and stepped up to him, her finger poking at him. "I let you talk. I have every right to say something now."

He held his hands up in surrender, fighting off his temper. "Fine. Talk."

She braced herself and faced him. "You'd rather I didn't understand…" She repeated, feeling her heart beat desperately. It hurt, she realized, knowing it was the truth. "You'd rather I didn't know how it must hurt you. Or how everything you lived for was burdened with this guilt you've carried for years now."

"I don't need any sympathy, Hermione."

"I'm not giving any, Draco." She pointed out, not letting her gaze falter from his. "Besides, you don't need any sympathy since you've got so much self pity stuck in that head of yours."

He laughed, short, clipped, the edge in his temper evident.

"Look at you! You think you caused all that happened during that damned war."

"I killed many people, Granger." He emphasized her name, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I tortured people, some may be a relative of yours, or a friend."

"If I should point out to you, Malfoy, it was Voldemort who did that. Not you."

His hands shook, his jaw locked. "I killed Harry Potter. Can't you understand that? You mourned for him for what seems to be years. And I was the one who took him from you. If he's alive, you wouldn't try to kill yourself before, throw yourself off a building." Her eyes suddenly widened, seeing clearly the hospital rooftop, the long fall from it, just like in her dream. "Your life would be just as you've dreamed it would be all those years ago. You'd marry and have kids with him." His gaze, hot with fury, swept up to hers. "And you'd have been happier."

The quick slap of her palm to his cheek surprised both of them, still hearing the snap echo along the walls.

His cheek burned, stabs of prickly needles slowly sinking in.

She only stared at him, her eyes spilling tears. "Don't you dare say that to me." She uttered, her voice hitching. "I never knew you think so lowly of me."

"Hermio—"

"I never knew how stupid you are. I never—let go of me!" She slapped his hand from her arm and turned for the bathroom door just across them. But before she could even reach it, Draco grabbed her arm again and stopped her. "Let me go!"

"No." He pulled her to him and pinned her to a wall, leaning close and grabbing her arms as she struggled. "I'm not letting go."

Even if their faces were only a breath apart, she looked away from him, her breath hitching from tears.

"Look at me, Hermione." He said, staring at her.

But when she didn't comply, he raised both of her hands above her head, clamped it with one hand, and turned her face with his other.

"Look at me."

When she dragged her broken gaze at him, his anger suddenly faded, slowly crumbling down, leaving him empty. He could feel the big lump forming in his throat choke him. "I… I shouldn't have said that." He began, resting his brow on hers. "I was out of line."

She didn't speak, only breaking their gaze and looking away.

Hurt, he released her hands and stepped back, letting her go.

Straightening her shirt, she walked to the bathroom door and reached for the knob, opening it. But then, staring at the toilet, she realized she's running away, away from everything, and from him. Shutting the door, she whirled back to him, ready to face him. She wouldn't go without a heck of a fight. Not even with him.

"I would never blame you for his death, Draco. Whether I knew it, or not." Her eyes were dry now, temper evaporating tears. "You think I replaced him? You think you're just a stand-in for him?"

He raised a brow. "Am I?"

"You bloody bastard." Grabbing a pillow, she swung it to him, hitting him hard on the head.

Flustered, he gripped the pillow from her hands and yanked it out of her reach. "For Merlin's sake, Hermione---"

"My feelings worth nothing to you!" She swung at him, only to be dodged by him as he grabbed her arms.

"There, you're wrong, sweet heart." He yanked her up, her toes inches from the floor. When she swiped at him, he only leaned back to evade. "Your feelings matter much to me."

"You just stand there and say that to me when you just assumed yourself—and must I add, very candidly—that you're a bloody replacement for---"

"That is not the point, Hermione." He interjected, watching her miss another swipe at him. "And for Merlin's sake, stop trying to kill me."

"What is the point exactly, Malfoy?" When she settled at glaring at him, he carefully set her down.

"Your feelings."

She huffed a breath, sending her hair flying away. "They worth nothing to you."

"No. They do." He insisted, reaching for her shoulder, only to be slapped away by her. "Always the violent one, aren't we?"

"Get to your point, Malfoy, or you'll end up in a hospital."

"As long as it's your hospital, I wouldn't mind." He added, clearing his throat. "I was out of line. I shouldn't have said what I said."

"Yes, you're out of line." She nodded, poking his chest again. "And the point is you even had the guts to question my feelings for you and Harry."

"That is the point, but in a different point of view." He agreed, catching her poking hand into his. "What do you feel, Hermione?"

She tugged at her hand, but found it useless against his strong ones.

"It's just a simple question, Hermione." He muttered, leaning closer to her. " What do you feel?"

Hopeless, she scowled at him, her eyes bearing holes on him. "I feel terrible."

"That's a start."

"And I definitely hate you as of now."

"That's very evident."

She hissed at him, then glanced at their joined hands. "I… I also hurt… That's the worst."

He loosened his grip on her hand, letting her go.

She only shrugged, as if shaking off a shiver. "It hurts to know that you think my feelings for him make my feelings for you lesser. You think… you think I replaced him with you." She repeated, quickly wiping at her fresh tears in frustration. "I loved him, Draco. I can't change that. But that doesn't mean I… " don't love you… "…that doesn't mean I don't care about you." She sniffed, letting out a shuddering breath, turning around from him.

"Hermione—"

"No." She held up a hand, stopping him. "I need to be alone for a while."

Watching her walk to the bathroom and lock the door, he only nodded and sat back on the bed

Alone now, he didn't know what to think, or feel.

Torn between frustration and relief, he buried his face in his palms, letting his frustrated laugh hang in the silence of the damp evening.

A/n: Fights always leave me hollow... OO

Anyway, hope you enjoyed that piece.ü

Gotta work on the other one now.ü

Until then!ü