Sorry it took me a little bit to get this up. I somehow injured my right wrist and it hurt like hell to type, and when I put on my bandage it was more cumbersome, making quick-typing rather difficult. But, I did my gosh darn best!!!

Thanks for all of your patience.

Chapter 11

Surrender

She was falling.

Air rushed past her body, knotting her hair, wrapping around her form as she fell through the empty space. Things rushed past her, she wasn't sure what, wasn't truly aware of her surroundings are she tried to focus on exactly what was happening. All she knew was that not solid mass seemed to be keeping her up.

Her body somersaulted and her lips opened to let out a cry of pain as sharp, agonizing frissons swept from her left shoulder down to the very tips of her fingers. She swore, in the sound of the air and her cry, she heard the sound of her body thudding harshly against something very solid.

Twisting, she pushed through her hair, shoving it aside long enough to see. She truly was falling, she realized numbly, falling into empty, blank space, broken only by the shifting and moving stairs.

Blinking, suddenly, everything shifted into fast forward, the rate at which she fell increased and the pain in her shoulder grew tenfold. Something was broken, she thought dimly. However, no matter how many broken bones she had in her body, she wasn't going to fall to her death any time soon. Besides, she couldn't help but feel somewhat grateful for the pain in her shoulder; it had pulled her out of her numbed stupor and pushed her into that state of alert, awake realization that enabled her to finally take a look at her situation.

So, as Ron's screams of terror filled the air, she reached out with her wand and performed the first spell that came to mind, "Aresto momentum,", aiming the spell both at a nearing staircase and herself.

Her body slowed considerably, as did the staircase, and she managed to place her wand into her left hand and reach out with her right to grasp hold of the railing on the staircase. Pain slid through her body at the impact; she hadn't slowed down enough, but it was not enough for her to let go.

She wouldn't let go.

"HERMIONE!!!!!!!!!!"

He screamed as loud as he could, wishing that he could jump down after her. They should have paid attention, he realized as he let out another agonizing wail. They should have paid bloody attention to the staircase. They move, damn it, the fucking staircases move!! Hell, he should have realized…he should have been paying attention.

Falling to his knees, he moved to the edge of the landing, peering over and screaming after the falling woman.

Damn it, he should have…he shouldn't have…fuck it. Fuck it all to hell! Why did the bloody staircases have to move in the first place? Why couldn't they just stay in the same fucking place at all times? Was it really necessary?

Thoughts streamed through his head faster than the woman fell through the air, and yet, suddenly, she stopped. His nails dug into the stone floor, eyes wide and face pale as he saw her holding on for dear life onto a railing.

And he could do nothing to help her; she was a good four floors down, there was no way any spell he could cast would be able to reach her, and damn it, it's not like he had a fucking flight of stairs to use any time soon.

He should have paid more attention in school, should have worked harder on learning his spells, he groaned, lifting his hands to bury them into his hair. Then, maybe if he had worked harder on learning, he might be good enough to somehow levitate her to a safer position.

But he wasn't…he wasn't really good at anything.

Damn it, he cursed quietly, this wasn't the time for self-pity, he realized. This wasn't the time to hate himself; she was hanging there and he stood there, mentally chastising himself for not paying attention in class. That just wasn't right.

He had to try and get help; the Tower was on the seventh floor. Maybe, if he ran to the Gryffindor Tower and back, he could get Harry and they might be able to figure out a way to save her. Besides, Harry knew more about the secret passages and staircases in the school than he did. That would certainly give them a chance to get down to the fourth floor and pull her up.

"Harry, Harry," he mumbled, torn between getting his friend and watching in horror as his love held on for dear life. "I have to get Harry…but…but I don't want to leave. What if she falls? What if she can't hold on? God damn it!!" he cursed loudly, digging his nails into his scalp as his debated loudly over what to do.

"Ron!"

He blinked rapidly, wondering just where the voice was coming from.

"Ron!!"

Staring around, he wondered whether or not someone was down the hallway or on the nearby landing. When he saw no one, he blinked several more times. But…it couldn't be…she was too far away…

"Ronald bloody Weasley! You stupid prat! Look down!"

So it was Hermione.

Moving as close to the edge as he could, he saw that she had her wand pointed to her throat. So, that was how she was doing it.

"Get help!" she shouted, her voice bouncing off of the stone walls, creating a loud echo. "Go the Tower and get Harry and Ginny!"

"But I don't want to leave you!" he cried back, cupping his hands around his mouth as though it might increase the volume of his voice.

"What?"

"Bloody hell," he muttered, tugging out his wand and pointing it to his throat. "Sonorus," he muttered, before looking back over the ledge. "I don't want to leave you alone!"

He didn't see her roll her eyes, nor did he hear the heavy exhale she let out. 'Honestly,' she thought, 'why does he never listen to me?'

"Just go and get help, you prat! I can't hold on forever and you can use the Marauder's Map to get down here!" she snapped, gasping loudly as her fingers slipped.

He stood motionless on the landing, internally debating, wishing that he could have the courage to run off and get help. All he could do was stare and pray that she didn't let go, hope that she had enough strength in her arm to hold on tight.

They hadn't been able to fix things, he was thinking. They hadn't been able to fully repair their relationship. He had shouted again, had let his anger and frustration get the better of him, and now…now she was clinging for dear life and he couldn't do anything to save her.

He couldn't let her die. She was his soul mate; he wouldn't be able to live if she left him. He needed to know…needed to know that she loved him too. He wanted to stay with her, live wit her for the rest of his life. He wanted to have hoards of children and grandchildren with her.

She was his…she was meant to be with him. She was not meant to die from falling down the bloody main staircases at Hogwarts.

"Fucking bloody fucking hell," he muttered loudly, pacing on the spot.

"Ronald Weasley, you go get help or I swear, I won't be able to hold on much longer!" she cried, digging her nails into the stone of the railing, as though they could penetrate the solid mass and help prevent her from falling.

"I don't want to leave you alone!! I don't..."

"OH MY GOD!"

Both eyes turned to the fifth floor landing, where the Hufflepuff Prefect, Seanacy, was gaping in shock at the sight before her.

"Seanacy! Great! Get your arse down here and help me up!" Hermione cried from her position, quite glad that the staircase had slowly made its way to attach itself onto the very landing Seanacy stood on. "Ron! Go get McGonagall! I'll be at the Hospital Wing!"

"What happened?" the Hufflepuff girl cried, rushing down the steps, slipping on several and landing hard on her bum a few below where Hermione hung for dear life.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked, having removed the charm from her voice. She chanced a glance up and was quite pleased to see that Ron had finally disappeared.

"I should be asking you that same question," the girl replied, standing up to point her wand at Hermione. "Wingardium Leviosa."

With a swish and flick, Hermione was levitated into the air and gently placed onto the staircase. As soon as her body hit solid ground, she fell back with a shuddering breath and revelled in the feeling of cool stone against her skin. Damn heights, damn flying, damn it all…she had no clue how the hell those boys managed to enjoy Quidditch so much.

The panic she had been trying to abate slowly tried to seep back in and it took several more shaky breaths and gentle words from Seanacy to finally calm her down enough so that she could stand without her legs feeling like jelly. She had really come that close, she realized as she glanced over the ledge. So close…just a couple more stories and she would have most definitely died.

If she hadn't been thinking clearly, if she hadn't been hit…would she have realized early enough? Would she have been able to think clearly?

"Hermione?"

Drawing another trembling breath, she closed her eyes and pushed back her anxieties. She was fine, she was okay, she was in pain but it was felt great to feel pain. It meant that her heart was beating, her blood was flowing, and her nerves were in working order.

It meant that she was alive.

"Let's go to the Hospital Wing," Seanacy urged gently, pressing lightly onto Hermione's right shoulder.

When the brunette winced, the blonde girl let out an apologetic squeak. "I'm sorry! I didn't know! Are you okay? Where are you hurt?"

Slowly, they began their way up the stairs and towards the Hospital Wing.

"I'm fine," Hermione replied softly. "I'll be honest, both of my shoulders hurt quite a bit but…" she paused mid-step and turned to the young girl beside her. "Thank you."

Seanacy slowly blinked up at the older woman before she nodded. "I couldn't just let you hang there."

As they walked on in relative silence, Hermione was slowly acknowledging more and more the sharp, stabbing pain in her left shoulder. She felt her heart throbbing in that exact location and it slowly ebbed down her back and her arm. Gently, she took her wand out of that hand, which she feared to move, and slipped it into the pocket of her jeans. She fought against the instinct to grab her shoulder and cling onto it for dear life. She had to remember, she had dealt with worse pain. She had dealt with worse scenarios. The Cruciatus Curse was far harder to deal with than what she suspected was a broken shoulder.

But damn it, it still didn't mean that it didn't hurt, and it hurt.

"What," she swallowed thickly, biting back a whine of pain. "What were you doing there? I thought you were supposed to finish up with the Greenhouses?"

"Oh, well, I found a couple of Ravenclaws out after curfew and I thought that it might be better to escort them back to their dorms instead of assuming that they would go straight back," Seanacy replied. "When I getting ready to head back, that's when I heard people shouting and, well, you know the rest."

"I suppose I'll have no choice but to be eternal grateful for how meticulous and rule abiding you are," Hermione chuckled. At least, it sounded vaguely like a chuckle, although it ended on a quiet moan of pain as the wracking of her chest jarred her shoulder in a way that intensified the agony.

"Hermione…are you really okay? I mean…you look really bad."

Gritting her teeth, she finally lifted her right hand to gently press against her shoulder. Letting out a hiss, she closed her eyes against the pain in her shoulder.

"I'll be okay," she mumbled. "Can…can you do me a favour?"

"I'll try."

"We're not far from the Hospital Wing, and I'm not about to pass out any time soon. Do you know where the Heads' dormitories are?" Hermione paused to let the girl answer, wishing she could lean on a wall for support. Her body felt drained, her mind emptied and she wanted nothing more than to take a good Pain and Sleeping Draught and just rest for several hours.

"Yes, they were part of our tour when we became Prefects."

Nodding, Hermione gave the girl a half-smile. "Good, can you go there and get Draco Malfoy, please? I think that the Head Boy should be allowed to know what's happened to his partner, don't you?"

'Nice play,' Hermione thought, quite pleased that it didn't sound so much as a lie. It was the truth; it was only fair that Draco find out what was happening instead of waiting until morning, when the rumour mill would be working ten times faster than usual. Besides, she wanted to see him…wanted to be held, to hold, to love and be loved…she hated to admit it, the strong woman within her hated it, but being so near to death, it made her realize things even more. It made her want to spend even more time with Draco, to let him know how she felt.

And she wanted him there when she spoke to Harry about several things.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

Someone really made a good decision in choosing Seanacy as Prefect.

"Yes. Please…go get him."

"O…okay. But how…"

"Tell the statue who you are and that you want to talk to him. The message will be relayed."

"Okay, I'll be quick," the girl breathed out before taking off at a run in the direction of the Heads' tower.

Just as soon as she was out of earshot, Hermione closed her eyes and let out a rather loud noise of pain that she had been holding in. It hurt so fucking much, she heaved. So much…but…she had to push herself. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how long she had been able to keep up the façade in front of the younger girl, she reminded herself that she had been through worse.

It's what kept her going, the mantra of internal strength that repeated in her mind that pushed her to keep walking towards the Hospital Wing.

(Change scenario)

She was sitting on the bed, being examined by Madame Pomfrey, when Harry barged into the Wing followed by a frantic Ginny and a rather irked McGonagall. Ron lagged behind, looking torn between guilt and relief when he saw Hermione seated on the bed.

"Hermione! Are you okay? What happened? Ron said you fell! Are you feeling alright? Where does it hurt?" Ginny cried loudly, sounding very reminiscent to the mother who raised her.

Harry seemed to materialize by her side, much to the annoyance of Madame Pomfrey, who felt that the girl needed as much space as possible. Unlike Ginny, however, he didn't babble and shout; he simply sent her a gentle smile and said softly, "I'm glad you're okay, Hermione."

Harry, like Hermione, had learnt quickly in the war that injuries were expected. They were part of the fight, a part of life, and that it was a waste of time to spend hours on end complaining about them or fussing like Mrs. Weasley. They quickly learnt that, in spite of the injuries, it was better that someone was alive and injured than dead. He had come to appreciate life, in spite of all of the scrapes and bumps that came with it.

The only thing nagging him was how this came about, but he would leave that conversation for when Hermione was alone. He could then discuss the situation and Ron, who he felt was doubtlessly involved in this.

"Gin," Harry said softly, pressing his hand on his girlfriend's shoulder, "let Madame Pomfrey do her work and we can ask Hermione as many questions as we want once she's done." He had seen the death glare Madame Pomfrey had sent the youngest Weasley and felt that it might be better to avoid confrontation than watch everyone blow up in a few seconds.

"Oh but…" Ginny began.

"It won't take long," the Mediwitch huffed; waving her wand over Hermione's left shoulder. "Broken shoulder and…" she moved to check Hermione's right, "pulled ligaments. Just a little spell, a potion for reconstructing the bones and a pain potion and she'll be okay. Now, I would appreciate it if you could give me space," she added, sending another glare to Ginny.

Ron paced by the beds near the back of the room, almost as though he was afraid to come near Hermione, as though he might hurt her unwillingly. Professor McGonagall stood nearby; watching silently as the Mediwitch began the process of healing Hermione's minor injuries, biting back every question on her tongue, knowing it would only irritate Poppy.

Hermione grit her teeth as she felt the ligaments reattaching themselves in her shoulder, taking slow deep breaths as the pulsating pain ebbed and flowed through her shoulder. She wouldn't cry out now and she wouldn't cry out when Madame Pomfrey healed her other shoulder.

'Worse pain…you've felt worse pain than this,' she reminded herself.

Just as Madame Pomfrey began healing Hermione's left shoulder, the doors to the wing swung open with a loud bang and a certain blond-haired git came rushing into the room. He was oblivious to the others in the wing, running over to Hermione.

"Hermione! Are you okay? What the hell happened? Wilkes said you fell. How in the world did you fall down the bloody stairs?" he cried, stopping in front of Hermione as he began to examine her, much to Madame Pomfrey's annoyance.

"Draco," Hermione began, wincing as he accidentally brushed her healing shoulder.

"You're hurt. How did this happen? Did someone push you? If they did, I'll bloody kill them," he snapped, looking over her for more signs of injury. Finally, he stopped and cupped her face and heaved a soft sigh. "Fuck…I was so worried. I'm glad you're okay."

She couldn't help it; she blushed. A dark layer of rouge covered her cheeks as he brushed his thumbs on her cheeks, raw emotions exposed in his glittering grey eyes. Anxiety, pain, love, and fear. She knew that he had been close to panicking, had an inkling that he had sprinted the whole way here, and she couldn't help but feel grateful and embarrassed by just how much he cared.

"Draco, I'm…"

"Mr. Malfoy, if you wouldn't mind moving aside, I could continue healing Miss Granger," Madame Pomfrey snapped, nudging Draco out of the way so that she could continue with her work. "Honestly…you all panic and worry about someone getting hurt, and then you get in my way when I'm trying to do my job. Bloody nuisances, all of you."

Draco looked like he wanted to scoff in reply, but Hermione placed a hand on his forearm and squeezed gently. "I'll tell you everything once she's done, okay. Besides, I've been hurt worse," she reminded him.

Scrubbing his face with his hands, he nodded, standing aside to let Madame Pomfrey work, but never once leaving Hermione's side. He ignored the boring stares, watching as Madame Pomfrey healed Hermione. The young woman, however, was not able to ignore them as well. When her gaze lifted and met Harry's, she saw perplexity, hurt, and curiosity. His green eyes glittered with a knowledge that she had never seen before, some strange glow that made her feel like a child caught in the act.

Ginny, all the while, expressed open awe. Her mouth hung open, eyes wide with shock. She was blinking rapidly, as though she couldn't understand the sight before her eyes, rubbing them on and off, as though it might help her decipher the situation in front of her.

Ron…Ron was nowhere to be found. The door was still ajar and Hermione could only assume that he had left either upon Draco's arrival or after watching the display of obvious affection. This bothered her more than the looks Ginny and Harry were giving; if he had seen anything, had understood the implication, then furious would be an understatement of his emotions. Ron would be out for blood, if his earlier actions had told her anything.

This worried her more than anything, and she felt her heart leap with anxiety.

Damn Valentine's Day and its stupidity. If they hadn't done this whole bloody thing, then she wouldn't be stuck here, Madame Pomfrey prodding her with her wand, in pain, and unable to escape the situation without explaining her relationship to, at the very least, Harry and Ginny.

Bloody fucking hell.

She hissed when she felt the bones slowly begin to reconnect themselves, pressing together to heal and close the gaps. Draco's hand instinctively flung out and grasped her free one, clenching tightly around her.

"Can't you do something about the pain?" he snapped, glaring at Madame Pomfrey.

Hermione couldn't help it; in spite of the pain, she rolled her eyes at Draco's tone.

"I offered her a pain relieving draught, but she refused it," the Mediwitch snapped back, as though she expected the young man to already know the answer.

"Why?" This came from Harry, who was now sitting on the bed across from them, arms crossed.

Hermione winced again as Madame Pomfrey pressed against another crack on her shoulder. "The bloody things always mess with my brain," she answered. "I wanted to be in a right state of mind when I spoke to you."

"About what?" Harry's gaze shifted over to Draco, as though he expected the topic of conversation to be the blond.

"How this happened."

"And what exactly did happen, Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked up as Professor McGonagall spoke her first words since entering the Hospital Wing. The Professor's eyes held a faint curiosity that was only just overwhelmed by honest concern for her star pupil. She knew that the Professor and Headmistress was genuinely worried for her, understood that the woman would do anything in her power to see that things were rectified, and she was eternally grateful.

"Drink this first," Madame Pomfrey said, thrusting a cup into Hermione's free hand. At the young woman's glance, she huffed loudly. "It's to held reconstruct the bones; the pain relieving draught is on the bedside table, as you asked. Now drink up and I can go about doing other things."

Hermione was even more grateful that Madame Pomfrey was more understanding of the situation than she used to be. The woman had had difficulty adapting to the situations that came about in the war, particularly when people came back badly injured but ignored the pain the draughts in order to give coherent reports. She remembered one particular situation, after a rather nasty fight with a few Death Eaters. She had limped back to the Headquarters, wrist snapped, and body covered in scrapes, bruises and aching from having suffered at the expense of another Cruciatus Curse. Honestly, she didn't know why she was the always the target of that bloody curse.

She remembered coming in, dragging Luna with her, Harry behind, and Madame Pomfrey had immediately began fussing over the threesome. She had had a good row with the Mediwitch when she had practically tried to force the pain relieving draught down their throats. That bloody stuff was worse than morphine, had been her argument. They wouldn't be able to discuss things properly and coherently. To prove her point, in spite of the pain, in spite of everything, she had been able to give a clear and concise report to other Order Members.

From that day onwards, Madame Pomfrey always respected her choice to not drink the pain relieving draught; she could only assume that the Mediwitch had gained a new sense of respect for her.

Now, as she drank the foul tasting bone healing potion, she felt even more grateful. Her mind wouldn't be fogged by the draught; she would be able to think clearly when she wanted to answer all of the questions in the eyes of the others.

The second Madame Pomfrey had stepped back into her office, ordering that Hermione remain in the Wing for the night and that she not wait too long to take the draught, Professor McGonagall stepped forward.

"So, Miss Granger, care to elaborate on precisely what happened?"

Nodding, Hermione adjusted her position on the bed, trying to get more comfortable in preparation for the pain she knew would soon follow the ingestion of the potion. \\At least, she reminded herself, it wasn't Skele-Grow. Harry had said that it was one of the worst pains he had ever felt.

\"I was doing my rounds, finishing up on the seventh floor," she began, watching as Professor McGonagall moved forward a few steps. "When I reached the seventh floor, I found Ronald. Apparently, he mixed up the schedules and thought that he was on duty tonight," she added with a strained laugh as the first little pulse of pain shot from her shoulder. "We exchanged a few words, I explained to him the error, and told him to hurry back to the Gryffindor tower before he got in trouble. I took a step back, intending to move back down the staircase while making sure Ronald went back to the Tower, when I discovered the staircase had moved."

She knew that she was lying, knew that half of the words out of her mouth were formed only to save her and Ron's hides. Ron would get in trouble for being out after hours, while she knew that Draco would, for lack of better words, blow up at the idea that she had willingly been alone with Ron for a period of time. Telling the truth would only cause more problems. For now, she would use this white lie and then explain the situation when she was alone with Harry.

"How did you stop yourself from falling?" the Professor asked.

"I used Aresto momentum," she replied honestly. "I slowly down a moving staircase and myself and managed to hold on."

"Which is why you injured the ligaments in your right arm," the Headmistress said with a nod. "And how did you injure your left shoulder?"

"It hit another moving staircase." Hermione rubbed said shoulder as more pain pulsed from it. Her heart was back in that very spot; beating roughly against the injured nerves. She gently squeezed Draco's hand when she felt it jerk in her grip, letting him know, without words, that she was fine.

Nodding slowly, the Headmistress looked somewhat unconvinced, but knew better than to continue her interrogations. If she had learnt anything over the years it was that Hermione only withheld information if she deemed it important enough to withhold. She wanted to press, but pulled herself away.

"Very well. You will do as Madame Pomfrey orders and spend the remainder of the night in the Hospital Wing. I highly suggest that you do not put any pressure on that shoulder, as it will probably cause more discomfort, so you are quite lucky that there are no classes tomorrow." She turned around, intending to leave the Wing, before pausing mid-step. "If there is anything else you wish to talk to me about, please feel free to come to my office. My door is always open." Turning back around, she moved to the door, adding loudly, "And, Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley, and Mr. Malfoy, I highly recommend that you do not spend the night here, unless you wish to anger Poppy some more. Go back to your dorms within the hour."

When the door clicked shut, Hermione let out a loud sigh and rubbed her face. She felt weary, exhausted, and ready to fall over and sleep. The only thing stopping her was the looks in the eyes of Harry and Ginny.

"Ginny," she said softly, sensing more than seeing their movements as they grew more alert at the sound of her words, "Harry, I have something I really need to talk to you about."

"What is it?' That was from Harry, anxiety evident in his voice.

"It's about Ron," she began. "There's…there is something not right with him."

"What do you mean?"

"I know."

"About time you realized it."

Blinking, she looked up at each person in response. Ginny's face was red with insult and confusion, Harry appeared more understanding and weary, while Draco squeezed her hand and gave her a knowledgeable look.

"Gin, I know that you might not be happy to hear this, but really…something is wrong with him. He's acting out of character," Hermione began, trying to avoid insulting the youngest Weasley. If she knew anything about the family it was that they were extremely close and, no matter what, they defended one another. "Ron…he isn't himself anymore. For a while now, he's been acting very odd. He's been spewing a lot of this soul mate stuff to me, claiming that we wouldn't live without each other, how I love him, and a whole other bunch of bollocks that, at first, I found more endearing than anything.

"But now, well…to be honest, the reason I fell off the stairs was because I was trying to get away from him," she admitted softly, lowering her head to look at her hands. "I don't want to be stuck alone with him; he's been growing more…frantic, I suppose, of late. I thought he was just being a jealous prat like he used to be, you know how he is, and I thought that he was just being his usual angry self, but the past few times we've met, I've noticed a lot of major differences. Something isn't right with him."

The room filled with deafening silence; she swore she could hear her heart battering against her chest, could listen to the sounds of her bones crunching as they reformed her shoulder. She didn't want to look them in the eyes; she feared that they might consider her to be as paranoid as Harry had been in Sixth year. She didn't want to see their questioning gaze, the reluctant looks or the glances that subtly and silently told her they thought she was losing her mind. She didn't want to see the rage engraved in Ginny's face, or the disappointment in Harry's eyes.

Ginny heaved a heavy, long sigh, followed by the sounds of Harry's shirt rustling as he rolled his shoulders. Slowly, the silence was broken as they found the words that had been forming on their tongues.

"You're right."

Her head jerked up, eyes wide with shock at Harry's spoken words. Ginny was slowly nodding, although the look in her eyes told Hermione that she ached inside, that she wished that her brother wasn't going through such troubling matters. She felt Draco stiffen slightly at her side, almost as though he hadn't expected Harry to agree so quickly and easily.

Perhaps he had underestimated the Scarhead. Draco had always had this feeling that Harry had been smarter than he let on, that he had more common sense than most people their age, but this was the first time he had ever actually seen that common sense in action, the war included. Harry had always led the way, but he had always had this tendency to think more with his emotions than with his brain.

Draco had to admit, he was pleasantly surprised.

"We've been trying to ignore it, too," Harry admitted after a moment's silence. "Ron…well, you're right, he has been acting very weird lately. When we went back to the Burrow, he was furious half of the time; he wouldn't come out of his room, and, well, you know everything. Sometimes, if he did come out, it wasn't exactly for the best, and he would just blow up at everyone. I thought he was just angry or jealous, too, that you decided to stay behind. But when we came back…he started talking about how you loved him and how you two were meant to be."

"We thought that he had read too many romance novels during Christmas break," Ginny added. "I thought that my brother was just being silly, maybe trying to act up, or taking the novels into too much consideration. It made things really uncomfortable after a while, though."

"He got really angry really easy," Harry continued. "He was really frustrated that you wouldn't spend time with us, but after a while I could see why. I was getting fed up; he would lose it almost daily. We were still thinking he was just the old, jealous and angry Ron but…but we started to worry."

"What really happened on the stairs, Hermione?"

All eyes turned on Draco; it was almost as though Ginny and Harry was forgotten the Slytherin was there in the wake of their friend's issue. It became rather clear on their faces that they felt he was quite unwelcome in this conversation, as though he was infiltrating or spying on their friendship and issues.

Hermione, all the while, couldn't help but shiver at the raw pain and anger in his eyes. The glittering, grey thunderstorms were back, flashing savagely in the light, and his hand squeezed hers tightly, almost in warning.

'You had better of not done something stupid,' were the words she read in his actions and look.

"Well, as I said, I accidentally bumped into him on my rounds," she began.

"Hold on," Harry interrupted, turning on Draco. "Why the hell are you still here? You're not friends with Ron, what does any of this matter to you?"

"Hermione is Head Girl," Draco replied curtly, "I am Head Boy. Anything that might cause harm to or affect the Head Girl in any way affects me."

"How does that…?" Ginny began with a glare.

"Please," Hermione sighed heavily, wincing as another pulse of pain shot from her shoulder. "I will explain everything to do with Draco after we've dealt with Ron, okay?"

Ginny looked ready to argue back, very much in Weasley fashion, while Harry gave her a somewhat puzzled yet knowing glance. Draco, all the while, couldn't hide all of his shocks. Was she going to…? Was she about to explain their relationship to Harry and Ginny? Was she even ready? He didn't know why, but he was terrified at the thought of her friends knowing, in spite of his arguments moving towards exposing their relationship.

"Very well," Hermione breathed, and then began to repeat the conversation she had had with Ron earlier, omitting or altering some sentences in order to protect herself and her stupidity from Draco's rage. He would have every right to be angry with her, she realized now, she had not exactly thought everything through from beginning to end. She hadn't been careful enough, hadn't paid enough attention, and had thought that she could take on everything. The pain radiating from her shoulder told her otherwise, justifying Draco's reasoning and worries.

When she was done, Draco was practically seething, Harry looked rather furious, and Ginny looked torn between feeling rather ill and pissed at her brother. Draco leapt to his feet and began pacing at the ends of the beds, hands in pockets, body tense with rage.

"Hermione…"

"This wasn't the first time something like this happened, only this was the worst," she cut off Harry. "A few weeks back," she began, retelling the time when she had bumped into him after her discussion with Professor McGonagall. "He just," she said when she ended, "it just gets worse each and every time."

"At least the bastard didn't touch you this time," Draco snapped, cutting off both Harry and Ginny who looked ready to talk. "But fuck, Hermione, this is exactly why I don't want you wandering around alone. Don't you see? I warned you, I fucking told you, but you never listened to me. You always think you can go about, gallivanting on your own, that you don't need any help. Fuck, Hermione, start asking for help." He raked his nails over his face, mirroring the same marks he had made only a few weeks ago. "Fuck…fucking fuck," he groaned into his hands, utterly oblivious to the shocked looks Harry and Ginny were sending him. "Now you see why I worry? You see why I was pissed when I found out that bastard tried to touch you over the holidays? You understand why I've been warning you and warning you?"

She wanted to say she was sorry, wanted to explain herself, to make him understand that she just couldn't see the Ron she knew as the Ron she now saw, but it died away on her tongue when he removed his hands, exposing raw, bitter pain etched into his features. Never before had she seen such pain, such fear embedded into a single human being's face before. The storm in his eyes faded, lightning and thunder disappearing, leaving only heavy, crashing showers that seemed to make his rainy autumn scent thicken.

"I almost lost you," he whispered, choking back the pain that crushed his throat, drying it just as his eyes moistened. But he wouldn't cry, he didn't dare cry in front of anyone but her. Only she could see his true weakness, his raw emotions and fears exposed. Only her.

She slowly got to her feet, silencing Harry and Ginny with a single look, before making her way, rather unsteadily, over to Draco. Gently, she lifted her hands and brushed his cheeks, rubbing the skin softly with her thumbs as she gazed up calmly into his smouldering, aching eyes.

"I'm here," she murmured softly. "I'm right here; he didn't get me. And now…now I know better," she admitted. "I was wrong, Draco…I was wrong to think I could do everything on my own. Sometimes…sometimes I do need help. Right now, I need you to think clearly to help me."

"But next time…"

"I promise you, there won't be a next time," she answered forcefully, squeezing his cheeks a touch harder. "I won't let that bastard hurt me again. I'll be smarter now and I have you to help."

He nodded slowly, fighting back the pain in his system, pushing it aside. He had to think clearly, had to push away the fears and pull his mind back into order. He couldn't let his past memories influence his current actions and decisions. He would help her, he would destroy that stupid Weasel and he would protect her. She was strong, she was powerful, but even she needed help.

Even she needed protection.

"If he had touched you…just one touch," Draco began, his voice returning to its normal, possessive, infuriated tone, "he would be dead right now, you know that, right?"

"You can't threaten my brother like that!" Ginny snapped, jumping to her feet. "Just because he's a right prat in need of help doesn't mean you can kill him!"

"Shove it Ginger," Draco turned, glaring at the youngest Weasley. "He's more than a right fucking prat and you know it. I used to be a right prat, but I never once tried to force a woman to be my 'soul mate.' Think about it, Hermione fell down three bloody stories because you're brother couldn't keep his hands to himself. What if those stairs hadn't been there at all? What if it had been a wall? What if she hadn't had a wand? Do you think your 'prat' of a brother would've kept his hands to himself? Do you think he's in enough of a right state of mind to think clearly? His head is fucked and I don't care whether or not he's your brother or the Prime fucking Minister of Magic, if he lays one finger on Hermione when she doesn't want it, I will fucking kill him."

Hermione quickly saw the questions before they were asked, saw the discussion ahead before the topic had even taken formation, and she knew that, in a matter of minutes, she would have to think quickly on her feet in order to stop a brawl from happening. She saw the rage and curiosity in Harry's eyes and saw the way his mouth moved slowly, as though already forming the questions in his mind.

Things weren't going to be just about Ron now.

"Hermione, Draco…what is going on between you? From that way you're acting, I would almost assume that you were in a relationship."

She saw the fear in his eyes, the fear of the answer, fear of how he might react to said answer, and fear that he might not be able to see past old ties, old prejudices to be able to accept their relationship.

She wanted to deny it, wanted to lie and push it to a later date, but recent events told her that lying would only cause more problems in the future. She couldn't run away anymore, couldn't sugar-coat the painful truth with little white lies that would only grow into large burdens. She couldn't keep over-thinking and analyzing everything; sometimes, it was best not to think. Sometimes, it was to feel, and at this moment, she only felt one thing, was only one hundred percent certain of one aspect of her life, and that was the love and devotion she and Draco felt for one another.

No more lies, no more hiding; only cowards hid behind their dark masks, only the heartless and uncaring preferred pretence over honesty. She was a Gryffindor; she was courageous, strong, independent, and loving, and she would not hide her feelings any longer.

It was time. Time to admit the truth, time to let them know.

Time to come clean.

Here we go.

In the end, I only needed to do a little change at the very end of the chapter, but I think it's pretty darn good.

Anyway, the next chapter may not be up for a bit; I have a somewhat lengthy essay due on Thursday, as well as a pretty large one due next Thursday, so I will most likely be spending my free time researching and writing.

If anyone knows any cool sources on Bronze Age Cycladic, Helladic or Cretan landscapes (geology, topography, building materials, water sources, etc), let me know!!! I will love you for all eternity.

RECIPE!

Since the weather's getting nicer, I'm choosing a nice, simple fruity one today!

Fruit Pizza, found on iPhone app: allrecipes(dot)com, submitted by Lois

Ingredients

1 (18 ounce) package refrigerated sugar cookie dough

1 (7 ounce) jar marshmallow crème

1 (8 ounce) package cream cheese, softened

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 C)

2. On an ungreased medium baking sheet, smooth the refrigerated sugar cookie dough (ensure that it is almost room temperature) into a single layer approximately ¼ inc thick. Bake in the preheated oven 10 minutes, or until edges are lightly browned and center is no longer doughy.

3. In a mediu bowl, blend the marshmallow crème and cream cheese. Spread the mixture over the baked crust. Chill in the refrigerator until serving.

4. Use whichever fruits preferred as toppings (sliced, of course, unless small berries, such as blueberries, raspberries, or blackberries)

Some suggested fruit combinations:

Blueberries and sliced strawberries

Sliced pineapple (drained), canned sliced peaches, sliced bananas, sliced strawberries and sliced kiwi.

Apple pie filling and dusted with cinnamon.

Strawberries, kiwi, fresh pineapple and drained mandarin oranges.

Tips to keep fruit fresh: cover pizza is a lemon sauce (drained pineapple juice, 1/3 cup real lemon juice, and ¼ cup sugar. Combine in pot, heat and stir until it boils. Slowly stir in cornstarch that has been dissolved in a bit of cold water. Cool completely and then pour over finished pizza).

Tip/Alternative:

Instead of marshmallow crème, whipping cream (same amount) can be just as effective/good.

So, there we go. Too bad this isn't a slash fic, it would be hilarious: a fruity dessert to go with a fruity story.

Anyway, please review and I will work hard to finish the next chapter as fast, efficiently and as well-written as possible!

Thanks!