The orchestra had still been playing happy, upbeat music when Hermione returned to the party in Slughorn's office. The bright and cheery atmosphere immediately crashed into her as she walked in, weighing her down and making her shoulders sag under the weight.

There she was again tonight, forcing laughter, faking smiles. Same old, tired, lonely place.

She didn't want to be here anymore. No. She was not cut out for this.

Dancing, smiling, chatting, pretending. No, she simply couldn't possibly do it.

She was exhausted. She was cold. She was empty. She felt as if her heart had been ripped out of her chest all over again.

She heard an eruption of cheers from over near the window and the sound made her head hurt. But before she could turn to leave, a warm hand landed on the small of her back, a fresh glass of champagne extended for her to take.

"Are you alright?" Seamus asked quietly as he leaned into her ear.

Hermione took the drink from his outstretched hand and looked into it for a moment, thinking of how to answer.

She shook her head and took a sip.

Seamus's eyes softened as he watched her blink away the almost tears that started to pool in her eyes. His hand started rubbing soothing patterns along her back as she pulled herself together.

"Shall I find us something stronger to drink, something to help you forget everything, or would you like to make our way back to Gryffindor Tower now?"

Hermione brushed a stray curl out of her eyes, took another drink from her cup, and smiled the warmest smile she could muster at the kind Gryffindor in front of her.

Seamus was attentive, and understanding. For that, she was grateful. He hadn't said anything to make her feel uncomfortable. He hadn't tried anything. It was clear that he still saw how hung up she was on Draco, yet he didn't seem upset.

Hermione felt gratitude for her friend and sent a brighter smile in his direction.

"You should stay and have more fun, Seamus. I think I'm going to head back to the tower," Hermione answered.

Seamus shook his head and smiled charmingly. "Hermione, don't be ridiculous, we came as a date and we will leave as a date. Drink the rest of that, I'll go get Ginny and Dean. Dean's getting a bit too tipsy for Ginny's liking. I think she's wanting to leave, too." Seeing her tired expression, Seamus reached out and gripped her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before leaving her to go find the other Gryffindor couple.

The party continued to buzz and Hermione continued to sip her bubbly drink. She let the liquid move down her throat, sending slow waves of tingles through her body with each sip.

The sensation reminded her of the butterflies that responded to Draco's voice, the touch of his fingers on her leg, and the intense way he looked at her that night on the Astronomy Tower. She let herself enjoy that memory for a moment, took another sip, and decided that she needed to pull herself together.

She was letting her breakup with Draco pull her away from who she was, from so many good things. She had transformed into a version of herself she didn't like.

Hermione decided that it was time to find herself in her own skin again. Time to get back to being the girl with fire in her soul and 38 books in her book bag.

That's it, I guess. She thought to herself. Just keep on living whether you feel like it or not.

She has burned, is burning, and will burn out. She will sit in the ashes and come back again.

Hermione went to take another sip of the champagne but found her glass to be empty. She took a breath, and with her exhalation, decided that that was fine.

Placing her glass on a nearby table, Hermione took in the music of the party, which was still a slow buzz of instrumental music. She let the unremarkable tune purge the nerves from her body.

She took another breath.

By the time Seamus returned with the other Gryffindors, she felt an odd sense of calm. A mindless, numb, peaceful feeling that she was quite happy to lean into. She was tired of thinking, tired of reacting, tired of crying. She didn't seem to have enough energy for that anymore.

She felt calm.

And even if that only lasted the rest of their walk back to the castle, that would be fine with her.

The boys led the way, Hermione and Ginny a few steps behind them. The boys were chatting animatedly about something that must have happened at the party, but Hermione was not paying much attention. She thought she heard "McLaggan" and something about Snape's shoes, but they were in too much of a hysterical fit for Hermione to pick up any of the rest.

Dean's steps were staggered and forced, evidence of the too many drinks Seamus had mentioned before, and the Irishman took hold of his mate's arm to provide stability as they turned the corridor and continued on toward the stairs that led from the dungeons.

"Hermione," Ginny sighed, reaching over to run her hands down her friend's arm soothingly. Hermione pulled away from the contact with a half step, not meeting Ginny's eyes.

She wanted to hold onto this calm for as long as possible. She didn't want to explain everything to Ginny, even if her intentions were kind.

"Hermione, are you alright?" breathed Ginny, reaching out again in an attempt to provide comfort–comfort Hermione didn't want. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Hermione continued to watch her feet, unable to meet her friend's worried gaze, certain that it would make her cry. The boys let out another boom of laughter as they started up the stairs to the entrance hall, Seamus now providing even more support for Dean in his precarious journey up the curving stone steps.

The latter was talking loudly about Ginny now, how he was teaching her something at Quidditch practice last week and she wasn't getting it at all when McLaggan had interrupted to feign expertise on the very same skill. Hermione couldn't understand the entirety of the comments Dean was making about his girlfriend, but Hermione heard the low exhale that escaped Ginny's pursed lips, an indicator of her rising temper.

Hermione let out a sigh as she met Ginny's eyes. "How many times can the same thing break your heart?"

Hermione felt Ginny squeeze her arm gently, reassuringly, before letting go and starting up the stairs a few steps behind her boyfriend.

She called her answer over her shoulder. "As long as you love it."

Even though her friend wouldn't see her, Hermione nodded. She felt frozen at the base of the stairs as she took a few breaths, her mind consumed with images of a tormented Draco from earlier that evening.

Stormy grey eyes, scorching intensity, hands raking through his white-blonde hair.

"Damnit, because I love you, Hermione!" he bellowed, passion filling his eyes. "I love you, and I'm sorry if that scares you. I'm sorry if you wish I didn't say it, but the feeling is not something I can shake so easily."

Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about him saying those words. And that killed her. Because, naturally, Hermione likes to know things.

Did that statement make everything better or worse?

To hear "I love you" and "I'm sorry" pour from his lips was unsettling, and stirring, to say the least. Two big statements by any standard, but from the famously cold Malfoy?

She wondered if Draco had ever said those words before.

The weight of that question was heavy on her shoulders, and she sagged under the heaviness of it.

Then, she wondered if he'd meant them.

She almost had to laugh at that thought as it raced through her brain. She shook her head, running her fingers through her increasingly tangled hair.

His eyes had been stormy, icy, yet blazing, and he meant it. He meant everything. She didn't have to wonder.

Shaking the memory from her mind, Hermione let out another long sigh. Then, without another breath of hesitation, she started up the stairs at a trot to catch up with her friends.

The boys were still on about McLaggan, but Hermione didn't care to listen. Ginny didn't seem too interested in their conversation either. Still, Hermione caught the corner of her mouth turning upward every time Dean's laugh filled the corridor. Hermione studied her friend closely, and saw, behind her eyes, a heaviness that reminded Hermione distinctly of herself.

"Are you happy with him?" Hermione asked Ginny, just loud enough for her to hear as the boys continued to laugh several paces in front of them.

Ginny turned toward Hermione, thinking, before looking to the ground and back up again. "Sometimes, yes," she admitted after a moment.

Hermione watched Ginny's gaze follow her boyfriend's movements for a few seconds. She took a breath.

"Sometimes he makes me really happy. He's fun to be around. He makes me laugh. We'll play quidditch together on the weekends sometimes, and that's fun. Or, exploding snap in the common room. He's also really fun to snog in empty classrooms or up on the astronomy tower. I do enjoy that. And, it's a nice view." Ginny smirked at the last part, noticeably looking Dean up and down as if she were undressing him with her eyes to prove the point.

Hermione laughed at the joke, but the joy didn't last for long. No, of course not. Hermione couldn't think about good views or snogging on the astronomy tower right now. Not without disrupting her current sense of calm that she was desperate to hold on to as long as possible.

So, Hermione pressed on the subject with Ginny.

"Sometimes?" she asked. "What about the other times? When he is condescending or makes you cry?"

Ginny sighed. "Well, that part isn't fun…" she trailed off. "He's controlling and overprotective. I don't need that. I can take care of myself. But, he's the type of guy that wants someone to take care of. He wants to feel important. I can't fault him for that."

"But it bothers you?"

"Yes, well, sometimes, yeah," the redhead thought aloud. "I know what I can and can't handle and I can be pretty stubborn sometimes, I'll admit that. I'm not the type of girl that needs to be taken care of. He's a great guy, but Dean and I don't match up in that way."

"Why keep dating him then? What's the point?"

There was a pause, the sound of their footfalls filled the corridor for a moment. Hermione was reminded of how out of her comfort zone she was with her achy feet stuffed into high heels, smooth, satin, and tulle fabric brushing against her freshly shaved legs with each step. She'd taken the time to put on makeup, with Ginny's help. She'd done her hair in front of the bathroom mirror.

Her mind started to drift back to school uniforms and taking her shoes off in the stacks of the library. She pictured herself tucked into a fuzzy blanket, Crookshanks on her lap in the Common Room.

The her before him.

She had never cared about appearance or avoided the truth to spare the feelings of others. She'd stay up late working on essays, make color-coded study schedules, and get swotty around exams. She had most of her time accounted for and was productive and always dove deep into learning everything related to coursework.

Then memories ran through her mind like a movie film, wandering around the castle pointlessly for hours, brewing potions the professor never asked for, choosing her outfits with intention and effort, then running from the rain, crying on benches, yelling and being yelled at, untucked button ups, under eye bags, wild curls with his fingers tangled through them, a green blanket, and the warmest cloak she had ever worn.

Ginny's voice broke Hermione's dangerous train of thought.

"It feels really, really good to be liked by someone, Hermione. Someone to count on. Someone who considers me. Even when I'm annoyed with him, I know that we still care about each other. I know we'll still have a good time flying after class the next day. I know he'll save me a seat in the Great Hall at breakfast. I know that he'll still bring me extra treats from the house elves in the kitchens if I'm having a bad day.

"Your problem is, you want to see people as extremes. Bad or good, trustworthy or not, I understand. It's easier that way, but that isn't how people work, Hermione.

"Maybe it will get to the point where it's not worth it anymore, when it goes too far, or maybe a better match will come along and be interested in me, but for now, I'm… I'm okay."

Hermione gave Ginny her best supportive smile, nodding as they continued their journey through the castle. She turned over the words in her head.

That isn't how people work.

"We don't fall in love with the most suitable people, do we?" Hermione asked, making Ginny giggle.

"No," she said, "I suppose we don't."

The boys were telling stories of their best and worst times in detention with Snape and some of the other professors, laughing as they went. It all seemed incredibly unimportant. Seamus did not seem concerned about Dean's staggering walk, happy to be along for the fun and happy to help.

Gryffindor is about loyalty, not about giving up. Right?

"You know, Hermione, Ron still likes you. I know he completely messed that up, but he cares for you more than he's willing to admit. Are you… are you still interested in him? I know for years you two… you both… You're both single now. Do you think that could happen now? Ever?"

Hermione's level of emotional exhaustion from all of the events of the night kept her from reacting too much to Ginny's questions. They were fair. It was in the open. She was not denying it anymore. It was done. It was over.

"No. No, I don't," Hermione responded thoughtfully, then paused, letting out a breath. "I was always waiting for him, you know? Waiting for him to notice me–really notice me. Then I was waiting for him to ask me to the Yule Ball, which was a nightmare. I've waited for him to sort through his feelings, to figure out what he wants, to be with Lavender, to ask me to Slughorn's party. I've waited too long, Ginny.

"It's not that I don't care about him anymore, I do. It's just… But you can be waiting for that forever, you know? And at a certain point, you have to ask yourself if you're waiting for something that's not only worth waiting for, but maybe you're trying to force something that is so clearly unnatural."

"Yeah, I… I know what you mean, Hermione…" Ginny trailed off biting at her lower lip like she did when studying, thinking deeply about something.

Hermione wondered if Ginny's mind was still stuck on thoughts of her and her brother, or if the thoughts had wandered.

There was a similarity between Hermione and Ron, and Ginny and Harry. Flashbacks to sobbing on the stairs, as Harry consoled her with his own feelings rolled through her mind, and Hermione wondered if Ginny had any idea how badly the green-eyed boy had it for her. There was a time when she was waiting for Harry, too.

"Still," Ginny sighed, turning her eyes up to Dean before flicking her gaze to her feet, then back to Hermione's face. "There is potential there."

The brunette pondered that word. Potential: Having or showing the capacity to become or develop into something in the future.

A lot of things had potential. Possibility. Hope with a tinge of reasonability.

She pictured herself walking the halls again, Draco's warm cloak around her, his larger right hand in her left, her small stack of books in the crook of his left arm. She could hear it, a song of laughter trailing behind them as they went, his quick kiss on her forehead, banter, and witticisms. And she sighed.

Hermione summarized, "You don't get to date potential, you have to date reality."

Ginny's expression turned heavier at the statement, and a silence fell between them for a few moments, footsteps punctuating their breathing.

"Yeah," she said in a low voice. "I know what you mean."

Though the words went unsaid, Hermione now knew that Ginny was not talking about Dean anymore. No, she was talking about Harry, and she understood.

There's potential, and then there's reality.

The four of them had reached the Gryffindor tower and, with a sloppy kiss that left Ginny grinning embarrassedly, Dean went up the stairs to the dormitory with Seamus at his side.

The fire was smoldering, almost burnt out, but the room was warm, and the space was empty.

Hermione had half expected Ron to wait up for everyone, jealous and sour that everyone else had gotten to go to the party while he was stuck here alone, but he hadn't.

After a while, you have to stop waiting and get on with your life. Maybe he was learning that, too.

Hermione wondered now, was she waiting for Draco like she had with Ron? Was she waiting for something that was never going to happen? She desperately wanted–no, needed? Hoped?-she hoped Draco would make a decision to abandon his Task on his own because she needed to know that he wanted to do what was right in his own heart. She needed to know that he wasn't abandoning his family because of her. She would always wonder when he would start resenting her.

But was Waiting the wrong move? Was she meant to be more aggressive in pursuit of romantic relationships? She was aggressive in her own world, in pursuit of education, of elf rights, justice, and goodness. Why couldn't she do the same for matters of the heart?

Ginny sat by the dying fire and was using her wand to wipe away her makeup, which Dean's messy kiss had smudged terribly. Hermione fiddled with the fabric of her dress, watching Ginny's eyes grow darker with her occasional glow of fierceness.

"Hermione, the boys aren't like us," Ginny was starting to say, standing again now. "They don't know what they want. They're lazy and they don't know how to get what they want when they finally figure it out. They're not like us. You and I? We're strong, we're powerful, we know who we are, what we want, and usually how to get it, and if we don't, we figure it out. They don't operate the same way we do. They wait. They don't know what they have or what they want until it's gone, and usually, we've moved on by then. It's the way this whole thing works, 'Mione. Ron? Draco? They're fucking everything up because they are scared of what they feel. Most men are."

"You're searching for what you give, Hermione. And that's not a bad thing." Ginny had reached out to steady Hermione's hand which was fiddling anxiously with the storm gray fabric that flowed near her right hip.

"I'm not surprised you don't have a boyfriend," she continued, standing up and walking toward the warm fire. Ginny turned back to face Hermione quickly, "I don't mean for you to take that the wrong way, 'Mione. Just–I just don't think that very many people can keep up with you. You know who you are and you understand. Your passions light up your eyes like a fire when you talk about them–

"Ginny," Hermione tried, turning away, blushing, and not knowing what to do with her hands.

"No, Hermione, listen." Ginny returned to the couch beside Hermione, putting her hands on Hermione's. "You're brilliantly kind, and smart, too, and you're not afraid to say what you think or break the rules, or defy social norms, storming across the Great Hall to kiss Draco sodding Malfoy, of all people." Hermione smiled sadly and Ginny nudged her shoulder, inwardly pleased with the hint of a smile that tugged at her lips with that.

"You know who you are and you have no problem showing it. And, I think that scares people, Hermione. People look at you and think Hermione Granger is a force to be reckoned with. Think things through. Tread lightly. She could kill me with a twitch of her pinky finger and a nonverbal, and she's cunning enough to get away with it."

Now, the curly-haired witch's eyes were wide, a wave of several emotions filling her features as if she wasn't sure which one to decide on. She settled on offense, seeing as it slammed against her, knocking her over like a wave she hadn't seen coming.

"So you're saying, Ginny, that I don't have a boyfriend because I'm scary?" Clear indignation laced her words. She stepped away from Ginny, whose eyes were wide with confusion, too.

In her shock at this interpretation, the part she clung to out of all of that, Ginny didn't manage to re-explain.

Hermione's voice shook now, "I mustn't be able to get someone I like to express interest in me because I intimidate them? My sheer personality, who I am, is too much, too terrifying, for the world?"

"No, Hermione, not at all! I didn't mean that. You and I both–

"Too much Gryffindor courage, I suppose. Too much passion." Ginny thought she might be mocking her now, but she wasn't sure. "Maybe I should stop talking about S.P.E.W. for fear of scorching the world around me with the terrifying fire in my eyes! Maybe then someone would like me. Maybe then they would ask me out on a date! Maybe if I answer fewer questions in class, if I wait even more for someone else to find the strength to raise their hand–"

Ginny grabbed Hermione by the shoulders, hard, and stared her down, shutting her up.

"That's just it, Hermione. You're exactly right."

"Excuse me?" she asked, confused.

"You're bold. You're passionate. You're decisive. You're strong. You're intimidating. Yes, that is all true. But it's not your fault sometimes brave women fall in love with cowards."

Draco was a coward, by every definition of the word.

He had stood there and watched her walk away, from him, from them, from everything they had, but all he could think about was what he'd said to her, and how much he'd meant it.

And how that fact scared him senseless.

He loved her. And that wasn't going to change just because she walked away.

That wasn't going to change just because she didn't want him to.

That wasn't going to change just because he was bad for her.

That wasn't going to change just because he was… bad.

No, he loved her deeply and truly, with every piece of his shattered heart.

But he was a coward.

He knew that.

Everybody knew that.

And that fact? That was what kept his feet rooted on the spot as he watched her walk away. He was a coward.

But her? The opposite.

Hermione took each step away from him with determination, her head held high, never turning back, never wavering.

That same cowardice was what kept him there in that corridor for twenty minutes, pacing, thinking maybe, just maybe she would reappear. An absurd, ridiculous thought, he knew. But she was strong and sure, so unlike him, and he knew that she would not come back to him.

He stood there in the cold, dark corridor, feeling empty and heavy, hopeless and wrong. He heard the clock tower tick on to midnight and decided then, he should return to his dormitory.

After all, Hermione had returned to her party, to her date.

He scowled.

She would not be coming back.

Just as he started the short journey back to his room, the din of the party flooded from the nearby hallway where the doors to Slughorn's office were. Draco held his breath as the door closed again, returning the corridors to their eerie, depressing silence.

Then there were footsteps, the sound of which made Draco's heartbeat race, imagining how Hermione would look when she came around the corner in that beautiful dress and turned to face him, chasing after him.

But things don't happen in the way we want them to.

Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan rounded the corner and turned in the opposite direction without even noticing him. Not that Draco would even want to be noticed by those two Gryffindors anyway, no. Draco let out the breath he had been holding, his heart rate slowing with the disappointment.

The Gryffindor boys were in an animated conversation about something or someone that didn't seem particularly interesting to Draco. So, once again, he began to retreat down the stairs to his dormitory, when he heard it.

Ginny Weasley's voice saying her name.

Hermione.

Draco didn't miss a beat, turning around to watch them. Like the two boys, the girls didn't seem to have seen him either and were heading toward the stairs not far behind the others.

"Hermione, are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?"

Draco didn't even need to see her from the front to know she was deep in thought. Her shoulders were tense, jaw tight, eyes focused on her feet, both of which were fidgeting in the high heels she'd worn.

A booming round of laughter from the boys seemed to bring her back from wherever she'd been. Her shoulders jerked, then relaxed.

"How many times can the same thing break your heart?" Hermione asked the redhead, voice even and unshaken, but so quiet Draco could barely hear.

Ginny dropped Hermione's arm.

"As long as you love it," she replied.

Draco watched, painfully, as Hermione hesitated at the base of the stairs. The way her shoulders rose toward her ears told him that she was holding her breath. He wanted to call out, say her name, pull her into his chest, and let her think there safely in his arms. He wanted to apologize again. And again and again. He wanted her to be okay. He wanted her to be happy.

So, as much as it killed him, Draco stayed quiet. He kept his feet still. He held his breath.

And he watched her run her fingers through her hair, exhale, and follow her friends – her date – up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower.

Because even if he didn't deserve to be happy, she certainly did.

Draco Malfoy was not a lover, no. He was not a rescuer. He was not a safe haven. He was not warm or kind. He was not good. No.

Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater. He was miserable. He was a mess. He was cold and callous. He was a time bomb.

He loved her, so he let her go. Because, Hermione? She deserved to be happy.

He never expected that you could have a broken heart and love with it too, so much that it didn't seem broken at all.

Apparently, his heart was a coward, too.

A/N: HI READERS! I AM BACK! AHHHH it has been nearly 5 years since I've updated this story, and I'd like you to know that I have held onto this yucky gutted feeling as the months persisted and I didn't return to writing. I am endlessly sorry for how long it has taken me to return. Yet, here I am. Better late than never, I hope?

I remain committed to finishing this story, and it WILL have a happy ending with Dramione prevailing. I have the next 6 chapter written and the end few chapters outlined. I have secured two wonderful beta readers to help me finish fleshing out my ideas and support. I hope to post every 13/14 days on Fridays and Saturdays. I will be able to confirm this update schedule once I have a bit more feedback from my Betas.

I can't thank anyone who takes the time to read this enough. If you've been with me from the start of BTR 5 years ago, and you're here reading again, you deserve all of the gold stars in the world. I love you. I appreciate you. I wouldn't be here, writing, without the encouraging words many of you have commented.

Follow me on Tumblr at OxfordElise for chapter updates, previews, or general discussions! :) Ask me questions, let me know what you think of each chapter or the story in general. Tumblr. Seriously. Let's be friends.

A major thank you to dungeons-and-doilies for being an amazing Beta. Without her, I would have not had the confidence to revive this story.

Disclaimer: All publically recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of J.K. Rowling.

Many thanks to anyone who takes the time to read this story, OxfordElise