A/n: Heya all. :D Long time no see, huh?ü Anyways, I'm back to business and am still working on this piece.

Yeah. I WILL finish this.ü I promise.

Recap: (I suggest if you really want to get all of this again, read the previous chapter before this.:D) Hermy and Draco had been fighting again, and now they're avoiding each other. Draco took a stroll through Hogsmeade and saw Pansy Parkinson again. And upon coming back to Hermy, they ended up in a fight. (this is chapter 33)

Overall, Draco is still preparing a court hearing for Hermione's case against Narcissa for what she did to her. But, now being busy in preparing for that and the fact that Draco was fighting against his own mother, will he be able to deal with another fight with Hermione? ü

Hope you like this next chappie!ü

By: Aningme

Chapter 34

Dilemma: The Sequel

Blaise Zabini knew his wife was a nagger, but ignored that certain fact as he stayed up an hour later in his office than what he was supposed to. He had a lot of papers to see to, meetings to set up. He also had to review some notes and files about Narcissa Malfoy for the upcoming private hearing. He knew he was bending some of the rules there, and he had to admit of his lack of guilt with it.

But hell, the Malfoys were one of the lost fragments of his past…

He'd socialized with them, worked with them, and chatted with them if they were in the mood to strike up a normal conversation. He grew up having them around his family's circle of acquaintances, and undeniably grew an innate concern for them.

He didn't see that before, having his heart set to despise Draco Malfoy during his adolescent years just because he had the spotlight of wealth and glory. He envied him, he now realized, and forced himself to hate the man.

Well, he was living Draco Malfoy's life now, being in the Ministry and heading it. He's also peacefully and happily married to one gorgeous woman named Luna Lovegood. Had a beautiful son, one heck of a job…

But as he sat back, he remembered the war, the horrors of it, and all that he had been through.

He remembered that same egotistic bastard trying to save the person he hated the most: Harry Potter.

Damn all demons to hell. So he wasn't that bad of a person, Blaise thought to himself.

Mulling over that thought, he signed the reservation papers for the court and sealed the letters of information to the people involved in the hearing. He only had a few more reports regarding Narcissa Malfoy and the newest Mrs. Hermione Malfoy to review on. He still has to stop over Hogsmeade and buy the mint leaves his loving wife, Luna, reminded him about for the millionth time.

I won't forget it this time. He told himself, checking at his wrist watch and resenting the fact that he didn't make it to his wife's curfew. He only smiled, knowing he had to prepare himself for one ear drumming lecture from his wife, grabbed his coat and locked up for the day.

Her back was screaming at her in agony.

She must've overworked herself. But she couldn't help it. She was known to be the most hardworking student of all time.

But then, Hermione Granger must be getting old to feel exhausted after ten straight hours of research.

She glanced at her half eaten sandwich, realizing she had forgotten about it, and sighed. She had only a few things to run through after all that intensive study of Dark Arts. There were lots of books and journals about different spells and potions that she never knew existed. But there were only a handful of books pertaining to the potion she had accidentally taken.

It was a good thing Professor Dumbledore allowed her to browse through Forbidden books after a fiery debate about it. She was lucky she still had her wits to debate against the professor and won his approval.

Closing the hundredth book she read, she sat back and blew out a breath.

There were lots of horrible things she never knew existed in the wizardry world. There existed spells of torture, potions of monstrosity, and all curses of damnation. Her head felt like mush after reading through inscriptions and old passages of spells. She had a few books to translate, having some of the scripts written in different languages. She also crossed analyzed maps and illustrations, wrote notes on her findings, sorted them into categories, labeled each possible potion ingredient with their profiles, searched for closely related substitutes, and checked their effects and reactions to each other. She had to recall some of Professor Snape's lessons and lab works to come across added information. And she tried to recall all of the defense against Dark Arts lessons she had from her professors and… well… from Harry.

She frowned at that, and stared at the book in front of her, its leather bound worn out and ragged. She knew he was the man in her life for most of the years she had lived. She could still remember the times she stared at him during classes, when he wasn't looking. There were also times he'd glance at her and smile back at her, grabbing her heart at that same moment to a halt. She could still recall those times she talked with him, the times he made her smile, and the times when she thought she didn't have anybody, and yet he was there. She remembered that day when she cried in his arms, that day when he first held her hand, that day when he first kissed her, and that day he told her he loved her. She was also crying that time, because she knew in her heart she felt the same.

I love you, Hermione Granger. I can't say it in any other words. All I know is that I love you.

She smiled at the memory, not seeing the tear that had fallen down her cheek. Sniffing silently, she stacked up the books she had already used and set aside the other books she'll be bringing back in their room. She'd still have to browse through them, study up on them, and do more reading.

But as she stared at the books through the wavering light of her candle, she rested her head on the table and sighed. She wondered how she'd go back in that room with Him after their conversation last night. They avoided each other for most of the day. Perhaps—just perhaps—that she buried herself in work because of exactly that—to avoid him.

But hell, avoiding him didn't mean she wasn't thinking about him.

And, drifting to sleep, she was only doing that.

(Chapter 39 Dilemma)

The city lights danced before her eyes just after a car ran over her.

Or didn't it? She couldn't really say. She could feel herself cold, alone, only hearing an ear drumming silence of the night. But even as colors eddied before her, she could see a shadow leaning over her, holding her gently, with hands that didn't grope, but caressed.

"Who the hell are you? Get off me…" She snarled, feeling helpless and numb. She tried to move, but she couldn't.

Was she dead? Is she already dead?

"Hermione… Hermione… It's me…"

"Get off me." As she tried to push away from him, she could feel the asphalt ground under her, disconcerted by all means.

"Look at me, Hermione. Look at me."

"Let me go! I don't know you!"

"Just look at me Hermione!"

"Let me go…" Desperation clawed at her throat. Swam in her eyes." I have to find him…"

He didn't speak.

Her head began to throb. Perhaps she just had too much to drink that night. "I have to find him… I know he's here…"

She could hear his ragged breaths, as if he was crying. Was he crying? Who the hell was he? "Hermione… Who are you looking for?"

"Him…"

"Who?"

"I need to find him..." She started again, a tear finally slipping down her cheek, a different kind of pain spreading through her chest. "Find... him... Malfoy… Draco… Draco…"

"I have to find him."

"Hermione."

"I have to find him."

"C'mon, honey. Wake up."

"I'll find him." She slapped at the hands holding her. The arms embracing her. "Get off me so I can find him!"

Worried, he dodged at her swipes, swung her from the wooden chair of the library into his arms, carrying her. "You're not going anywhere nor find anyone at this hour."

Disconcerted, she fluttered her eyes open, found her head going into a long giddy reel, and swore. "Damn."

"I got you." He whispered to her, pressing his lips on her hair as he pushed her head against his shoulders. She was shaking all over. Her eyes were glazed in sheen. "Just hold on."

"Put me down."

"Shh…" He walked slowly, as if to rock her. "Almost there."

"My books—"

"They're going nowhere."

"Put me down!"

Noticing she's wide awake, Draco stared down at her face, noted the shadows under her eyes and the pallor going with it. He knew she weighed less than she supposed to be. "Not until we're there."

"What are you doing?"

"Bringing you to bed." He turned left to a staircase, heading to their room. "You're overworking yourself again."

"Bring me down, Malfoy, or I swear I'm going to hit your sorry face."

She snarled and hissed at him, but he still didn't let her go. He only brought her down on the bed with a plop on her butt when they reached the room.

"What on earth are you doing carrying people like that?"

He only sat beside her and pushed back her hair to study her face clearly. Satisfied with the anger in her eyes than the tremor and dread from her dream, he only shrugged. "You're my wife. I can carry you around whenever I want to."

Terribly flustered, she slapped at his face, only to be blocked by his hand, catching it. "Asshole."

He only smiled at that and kissed her hand in his, whispering to it. "There's my woman. Welcome back."

She didn't know why her eyes wanted to water up, why she wanted to lean to him and just drown in him. But as she watched him hold her hand and feel his touch, she was vulnerable.

Damn it. She's always vulnerable around him.

And she hated that, and she couldn't let him have the satisfaction of having control over her. "I need my books."

She pulled her hand away from his. He almost cursed himself as he felt it pierce his heart. "It's too late for that."

"I still have a few hours in me."

"You're telling me that after falling asleep on your desk?"

She stood up, just to mark distance from him. She could feel the giddy reel in her head from the dream, but tried to block it out. "I was just taking a break."

"Oh, you need something longer than a break, sweetheart." He stood up just as well, his temper starting to boil under his skin. "Don't jeopardize yourself, Hermione, just because of all this bloody business. And damn it, don't jeopardize our son."

She opened her mouth to blurt a nasty retort, but found herself backing down. She felt her heart trip at what he said, finding her energy to fight with him drain from her head to her toes.

Helpless, she dropped back down to the bed, covered her face in her palms, and sighed. "I'm not… I'm not jeopardizing anyone."

Surprised with her calming down instead of ranting at him, he knelt in front of her, letting her gaze level with his. He pulled at her hands and revealed a tear streaked face, her eyes red from silent weeping, exhaustion and fatigue obviously written all over her face.

"I can raise hundreds of arguments on that." He whispered, tucking locks of her hair away from her face. "Don't cry."

She remembered herself wishing he was kneeling in front of her, comforting her when she was in the bathroom, crying as well… missing him.

"Fine. You win. I can't fight with you right now. I don't have the strength to." Her voice shook, her face turned away from his touch. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

He could see her trying to choke down her tears. But he couldn't ignore the fact that she insulted him. "This isn't about winning, Hermione."

"Isn't it, really?" She stood up and paced, wanting to go somewhere… anywhere… but here. "I can't do this right now, Draco."

"What, you can't talk to me right now so you can bury your head over matters that I promised I'd be dealing with?" He answered, his voice raising just a few degrees higher than intended.

"No. I didn't say anyth—"

"Don't you trust me enough with that?"

"Don't give me that bullshit."

"I gave you my word, Hermione. Isn't that enough for you?"

She only stared back at him, not saying anything. She wanted to scream at him to stop... She couldn't put up a fight against him anymore. She just couldn't.

Instead, she swallowed back the lump in her throat, turned off her faucet of tears, and turned away from his gaze, wanting a quick relief from it.

He watched her close down at him, his heart twisting into painful knots. Violently angry at her, at himself, he strode to her and grabbed her shoulders to turn her to him. "Fine. Do what you want to do with me. Slap me. Hit me. Scratch me. Punch me. Scream at me." He kept on swinging her hands at his face. "Do it. Just do it."

She stared at him, seeing the rage that was trying to escape in his eyes. They were terrifyingly cold, but at the same time burning in a way that you'd want to be anywhere but here if it was set free. She could feel herself shake in fear… of what was going on with them… of what's going to happen... and quite simply, she was afraid of him.

"Do it!"

"No." She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her head start to throb, wanting the darkness to overcome her.

"Damn it Hermione." Don't shut me out. "Don't--What do you want me to do?"

"Just stop." She whispered, her voice threatening to hitch.

He didn't speak for a moment, just staring back at her face. He never realized how it'd hurt so much for her to close down on him. They had fights before, but none that could match the intensity and the risks hanging between them now.

Utterly disgusted with himself, he pulled his hands away from her, stepping back a distance from her.

It never dawned on him to realize this until now. He didn't know if he could accept it.

He never knew how this fear could actually take him wholly, choke him painfully and leave him breathless, his fear of her closing herself from him.

She saw it, the way his face suddenly drained. He could see it in his eyes, the slight tremble on his lips. She had never seen him so shaken before...

She had never seen him so horrified.

She opened her mouth to speak. "Dra--"

"Sir?" The knocks that lightly rapped at the door crudely cut her off, startling both of them. He couldn't move from where he was, stunned by the sudden fear that engulfed him completely. "Sir?"

Don't go. Her mind demanded, panic suddenly crawling in. I'm sorry...Please don't leave me again...

"A moment." He replied, his voice unbearably weak. He could feel his defenses slowly breaking down to one big clash in his head, his vulnerability suddenly and violently taking over him. He gave her another glance, watching her stare back at him, her face white with pallor.

He realized he had done that to her. He'd made her miserable.

Looking abruptly away from her, he turned to the door and opened it to see Lowry. Behind him was another man he had just spoken hours ago.

"Rough night?" Ron Weasley smiled cheerily, his smile cracking at his face almost too happily.

It only took one look at Draco's face to know that this wasn't a time for humor.

"She's inside." Having said that, he stepped out of the room and just vanished into the corridor, saying nothing else.

Confused, Ron called out to him once, even twice, only to be ignored completely.

"Ron?"

He turned and watched Hermione stare back at him in utter disbelief. She tried on a smile just warm enough for company, but he could see something in her eyes that she couldn't manage to hide from him.

"Hi."

"Hi." She gestured for him to enter the room, allowing Lowry to give them some privacy. "You're here."

He entered the room, did a quick inspection, and dropped his bag on a chair. "Not glad to see me?" He watched her stare at him, and saw the vulnerable tears starting to come.

"Oh, Ron." Hermione stepped forward, letting him embrace her as she wept. "I'm glad you're here."

Cautiously patting her head, he cradled her, readying himself to comfort. "Want to tell me what happened?"

His office was his comfort zone--his sanctuary--amidst all the buzz and chaos of his work. It wasn't customized to entertain a number of guest because he never liked having them.

But now that Blaise Zabini decided to make his office the meeting place for the upcoming hearing, he resented not being able to add a few feet of area to accommodate his own personal space.

"No matter what excuse she comes up with, there is no pardon for what she has done." Professor McGonagall stated, nodding to herself in conviction. "Narcissa Malfoy may have loved her son. But as long as her definition of 'loving' is beyond ours, there will certainly be trouble."

"This is not a court of domestic disputes, Professor McGonagall. Even if she plays her part of being an abused wife and a deprived mother, this is still a case concerning what happened to the wife of her son." Blaise pointed out. "Familial concerns or not, the legalities are placed first in this court."

"Speaking of the son," Professor Snape interjected, looking around the small space of the room. "Where is Mr. Malfoy?"

"I phoned him an hour ago. He'll be here." Blaise answered, frowning in deep thought.

"Whether this morning's court hearing concerns of legal terms or familial terms, I'm sure this will be hard for Mr. Malfoy, even if he acts in opposition of this. But, I request for all of your help in this. Let us not make this any harder for him..." Professor Dumbledore muttered, his mind still drifting of thoughts from the past. "It took him a decade to come back here. Let us not push him to his limits."

"If there is such a limit." Blaised scoffed at the thought, shaking his head. "He IS a Malfoy, after all. He can practically do anything he'd want. May it be miracles themselves."

"But he is also human, Mr. Zabini." Dumbledore countered, resting his tired gaze on Blaise's. "I do understand the way your generation sees him in a pedestal. But please do not forget he is only the same as you are: A man righting the wrongs in his life."

Blaise's brow relaxed from its frown. "That will be hard to keep in mind." He muttered under his breath, a smile forming on his face.

"I'm sure this morning's hearing will do us all some good. But let us hope it will do Mr. Malfoy the best." McGonagall concluded, before the knocking came to the door. "I believe he's here."

"Sir Zabini." A servant elf bowed before them. "Sir Malfoy has arrived."

Giving out a sigh, Blaise relaxed his shoulders and gestured his servant to beckon him. "Let him in."

A/n: I'm still editing Chapter 35, one of the hardest chapters ever in this story. Well, to tell you honestly, it's nothing special. LOL. I just dread doing court scenes.ü

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed that, and the next chapters after this.ü

And again, forgive me for the GREAT delay of my writing.

I needed to fix my life first before anything else... But since I can't fix it any better than this, might as well go back to working on this story rather than sit and brood all day.ü

See you next time then.ü TC!ü