Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

. * . * .

Waking up at five in the morning was hardly pleasant. I took this out (possibly in an unnecessary amount) on the house elf that woke me up. They were pestering little buggers. I knew that I had requested to be awoken at promptly five, but couldn't they give me five more minutes?

When I asked the house elf looked baffled, "But misses! Misses asked Dopey to wake her at five! Dopey did as misses asked!"

I sighed, "Fine! Fine! I'm getting up!"

"I'm not leaving until misses does!" The house elf dared to cop and attitude with me. I sighed, she and I both knew I wasn't going to punish her for it.

"You're insufferable."

"Thank you," The house elf squeaked, beaming proudly. I had a strange feeling I wasn't doing this as I should be.

I kicked my blankets off my body, finding strength to climb out of bed. I immediately jumped into the shower, letting the steamy water loosen the knots in my back, trying to make my body awaken even though the sun hadn't even begun to ascend the sky. I looked forward to the breakfast that would be awaiting me when I was finished.

I started wondering what I would wear today—something comfortable for I was certain that this muggle aircraft thing would be pure torture. Sitting still for that long? Ugh. I'd rather go shopping with my mother.

I postponed getting ready, for favor of the steaming tea and assortment of fruit and scones that the house elf had placed neatly on my freshly made bed.

Why did I have to do this anyway? I sighed to myself, trying to come up with excuses for why I suddenly couldn't go. When I remembered that backing out of this meant I had to discuss why with the Dark lord, I swallowed every gripe and complaint I had about the two weeks of awkwardness I was about to endure. I had to do this—for the Dark Lord. I needed to make sure I remembered that.

Once the breakfast tray was clear, I regarded the time. It was twelve after six. I nearly panicked. I wasn't packed yet, nor had I even begun to dress for the day.

I shuffled through the bags, selecting a lilac cotton dress, with a gathered scoop neck and tiny sleeves. I figured it would be comfortable, and not too binding. I was going to have to sit down for hours.

I wondered idly if I were going to get cold, so from the same bag I withdrew a light tan cardigan sweater with large wooden buttons.

Regarding my reflection in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. It was definitely a shock. I took a deep breath, reminding my time I was on limited time to get ready. I hurriedly put my half dry—starting to frizz hair into a side ponytail, applying some crème to make the curls attempted to be manageable. I threw on a long strand of pearls, swiped mascara over my lashes and selected a pair of flowered print flats that complimented the dress that I had on. I looked like I was wearing a costume. I hopes that the people that I encountered today didn't see through the disguise.

With four minutes to spare, I grabbed my wand, gathering all of the items I needed to pack. Thank god the clothes I'd purchased still sat in their bags, I didn't have to worry about what clothes I would need to make this charade believable.

With a minute left on the clock, I was wheeling my suitcases down the stairs rather awkwardly, a large brown leather bag casually slung over my shoulder. I didn't realize how heavy they were. And they were just awkward shapes.

Draco stood in my foyer—wearing a pair of dark khaki pants and a navy blue polo. It was unsettling how blue his eyes looked.

"Do you feel weird?" I asked, easily trying to make conversation as he helped me pick up one of my suitcases.

"I don't feel awake." He muttered rudely.

"Excuse me for trying to make conversation with you." I responded, grabbing my suitcase from him, "I don't need your help!"

I nearly toppled over, trying to maneuver both suitcases. I did need his help, I knew that. But I wasn't going to admit it to him. I didn't know why, but I had this complete and total undeniable anger towards him.

"Don't be ridiculous," he moved quickly, stepping in front of me, "Let me take those." I opened my mouth to object, but he was already turning around and walking out the front door...easily with both of my suitcases.

I followed behind him, both exhilarated by his presence, and dreading of the twenty hour trip I was about to face.

"I—" I stopped, barely sure of what I was going to say to him, "Thank you." I said lamely, struggling to keep up with him. He carefully sat my suitcases down by the awaiting chauffeur, then opened the car door, allowing me to step inside.

I quickly slid onto the black leather seat, and he silently followed me. All of a sudden I was so confused, I could see the ring that Flint had given me so clearly in my mind. With attached promises of a future that we would plan together as soon as I returned.

But for the first time in a long time, I realized that I was sitting next to Draco Malfoy. And no one was around. No meddling socialites to judge me for acting to flirtatiously. My parents weren't around to criticize my choices. And Marcus wasn't around to nab me about how I'd given him my word to give him a shot.

And for the first time in a long time, I wasn't pressured by society to act a certain way. I wasn't worried about the consequences of my actions, because for the next two weeks—I'd be hundreds; maybe even thousands of miles away from everyone I knew. And I had a strong feeling that what happens in America, stays there.

I took a deep breath, letting my posture relax and affirmed to myself the freedoms I was gaining. I sighed, exhaling so many days of confusion, worry and bad decisions.

"What?" he looked down at me thoughtfully.

"I just realized something, Draco." I began, and then I reiterated my thoughts to him, "We're free for the next two weeks. We get to do the things that we want to do. Make the decisions we want to make regardless of what we know life has already chosen for us."

"I thought that you were happy with the decisions your life had chose for you."

"Who is to say that I'm not?" I replied, instantly offended that he'd automatically assumed I was talking about our relationship, "I'm talking about the freedom. We're free from that archaic society. We can live in the nineteen nineties, instead of the stone age for two whole weeks."

He looked at me with a bewildered expression, "I thought you loved it."

"Why do you think I stayed gone so long?"

He looked hurt, and didn't say anything but turned to stare out the window. I ran through the mental records of the conversations that I had had with draco since I had returned from paris. I never once talked to him about being absent from this society except for the first night I saw him. We still hadn't talked about anything. He hadn't even asked—or taken the initiative to learn something of my life the last six and a half years. Unlike Marcus; who had wanted to know every miniscule detail of my life for those years.

I wonder why Draco didn't care…I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the cool glass. Draco had always not been confrontational with his feelings. He waited around, sulking sometimes even until he couldn't stand it any longer.

Maybe he was still too baffled by life to wonder about my decisions.

Or maybe; maybe it was that after six and a half years—he just didn't care anymore. That was probably it, I assured myself. I would be willing to wager that it was. Twenty galleons and my new Chanel handbag.

I slumped into my palm, realizing what a mistake (for the hundredth time) that Bella had made in pairing us up. There was too much in the way for us to even do our task correctly. Knowing her, she had thrust us together in hopes that we'd come home completely besotted with each other, like we had been seven years ago…or even seven days ago.

I had written off that incident as pent up emotions from the last several years. We couldn't be held responsible for those actions.

I closed my eyes, tighter than I had been, dispelling from my mind all that I had been arguing about. I was on vacation. I didn't need to worry about anything.

"Are you excited?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"I suppose. Although I hardly fancy this transportation…it's going to take us twenty bloody hours to get there?" He remarked conversationally. I was thankful that he hadn't brought up something that wasn't important.

"I know. I can't believe Bella thought that would be appropriate. If anything? It's a waste of our time." I would have added that it was a waste of our money as well, but that was far from the case.

"I completely agree. Though you know what her motivations were, don't you?" He asked, looking at me with those unbelievably gorgeous blue eyes of his.

I swallowed hard, reminding myself of so many promises that I'd made, "Yes."

He grinned, and his whole face lit up, "Typical of Aunt Bella. She was hoping that the twenty hour flight would somehow bring us together." He voiced what I didn't want to hear, "She loves you like her own family, you know."

I smiled, "I know. And in a lot of ways, I wish that she was my mother instead of the one I have. I know that's terrible to say."

He laughed, "You've only been around her for a few weeks, and you're already sick of her again?"

I crossed my arms haughtily, "You know how nagging she can be Draco. And she always has to get her way. I feel like I never get a say in anything." He chuckled nervously, tugging at his collar.

"I remember what your Mum was; is like. No wonder you stayed in France past the first summer."

I could tell that he wanted me to continue. He left that statement so open for continuations on my part, "There is so much more to it than you know." I replied vaguely.

"Then tell me." Were we really having this conversation now? "What are you waiting for? We have all the time in the world."

"Actually, Mister Malfoy—we don't at the moment. We have arrived at the airport." The chauffeur interjected. Chauffeurs were always so nosey. The pretended like they weren't listening, but they always were. They were probably to blame for most of the gossip being spread around society.

The airport was loud. Stupid muggles ran around in all directions. Some stood, joyously accepting the arrival of another—while others cried at their loved ones departures. the whole place looked so utterly normal…and boring.

Draco and I checked into our flight, and had to wait twenty minutes to even board our plane. Twenty whole minutes. That was an absolute outrage. It was twenty more minutes of completely awkward silence between us.

. * . * .

"Hey," I felt a jostle on my shoulder, I ignored it as I was too comfortably snuggled into my pillow, "Hey you." The voice repeated, jostling my shoulder with more force. I groggily snuggled up to the pillow, unwilling to open my eyes.

"What?" I muttered.

"It's almost lunch time," Draco replied, "The um,"

"Flight attendant," I heard a woman's voice interject.

"The flight attendant wants to know what you'd like for lunch." I muttered something so incoherent even I didn't fully understand it.

"She'll want the lemon pepper chicken," I heard Draco rattle off, "And sweet tea as the beverage."

I usually would have argued that he was ordering for me, but firstly—I was tired. And secondly—that sounded really good.

I waited until I was certain the flight attendant had departed and set up, stretching my arms over my head.

"Have a nice nap?" Draco asked.

"Yes. That's the best sleep I've had in a while. And who would have thought it'd be on an aircraft?" He snickered. "What? Is my hair messed up?" He didn't say anything, "Oh god. I need to go to the ladies room pronto." I stood up, looking up and down the aisles of screaming children, and the snoring elderly.

I remembered the safety instructions (Ones that Draco and I had laughed off, knowing if anything happened we could stop the plane from killing us all) and recalled the location of the restrooms, I frantically walked down the aisle, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

Locking the door behind me, I stared deep into the mirror. My hair looked fine. My mascara hadn't run. And that's when I noticed the drool on my cheek. After all of the embarrassing things Draco has seen me through, I didn't find myself fazed. I was just miffed that he had laughed at me instead of telling me.

I fluffed my ponytail, not completely satisfied with the way my hair had dried, and after a final once over in the mirror, exited the bathroom to rejoin Draco.

"You do know what you were using as a pillow, don't you?" He asked as I had sat down.

I looked around my seat, looking for something that I could have used as cushion. And that's when it dawned on me. I hadn't used a pillow. I had been sleeping on his chest the entire time.

I'd felt so peaceful. So at ease in my sleep. I hadn't felt that in weeks; well I had at one time. And that's when the puzzle pieces snapped together. The last time that I'd slept so soundly was in Draco's arms. And that had been exactly what I had just done.