Hermione stood over the hunched form of the blonde wizard as he studied his notes for Transfiguration by dim torchlight. He was patiently waiting for her to appear to his brief summons. Propped up underneath the bizarre tapestry, he leaned against the wall with one leg extended out into the walkway while the other was bent and served as a lectern for his parchment. Perfectly at ease, he wasn't out of place even though it was the middle of the night and he was reclined in the middle of an abandoned corridor.

Unnoticed beneath the magicked cloak, she relived the inundation of remorse when she finally read the single word that was hastily scribbled on the scrap of paper. Her worries over the influence his message would have on her were warranted. It had taken everything in her not to sob aloud and bring attention to the tucked-away corner of the common room she had found solace in after her conversation. None of the other cheerful students that surrounded her could have possibly understood the gratuitous reaction if they had read the simple request.

Please

A harmless and honest expression that was used casually every day was able to upend her entire outlook. Their obstinance had cost them too many precious seconds of their dwindling time together. Six short weeks was all that they had left… All she had left to convince him…

How could she have been so stupid?

Nervousness at his reception to her newest terms was the only thing that stopped her from announcing her arrival. That and being able to watch him at rest, when he believed himself to be completely alone. It was intimate on a whole different level than she was used to. The way he squinted at the paper each time a lock of hair fell into his eyes instead of brushing them into place, waiting until he could not see through the haze of blonde strands before fixing the mess. Or the way he would unconsciously reach up and pinch his chin every so often while he read a particularly baffling section of text.

He looked up, yet again, to check for signs of her approach. Clearly not caring if he was caught by any other authority figure that could happen upon his relaxed form, his eyes darted from one end of the long passageway to the other. The third exasperated sigh of the night passed from between his lips as he turned back to his scribbled account of Thaddeus Thurkell's abusive use of the Erinafors incantation on his seven squib sons.

She knew that if she made him wait much longer he would think that she had made her choice and ignored his invitation. However, the bile that was stuck in her throat stopped her from vocalizing her presence. Anxious over the unknown… She was afraid that if she opened her mouth she'd get sick. Rather than risk that specific complication, Hermione gently tapped the side of his thigh with the rounded tip of her sneaker.

The abrupt pressure with no known origin caused him to jolt up from his relaxed position. His alert gaze went right through her hidden form as he searched for the source. Acting on instinctive reflex, it didn't take but a second for him to understand and try to discreetly lower the hand that was prepared to pull his wand from his pocket.

He quickly got to his feet and completed the silent ritual to summon the door to his room. Once it had fully materialized, he opened up the passageway to the secret sanctuary and waited for her to enter. His lips were pursed in an attempt to stop the triumphant smile from breaking across his features.

Her trepidation doubled as the memories of the last night they had spent together rooted her to the spot. Afraid that everything would end up going wrong and lead to another round of frenzied quarreling. She swallowed down a fresh wave of sour bile at the grim image.

Defeated frustration began to distort his cautious optimism when he didn't feel the telltale signs of her brushing past. He stayed quiet for a few more heartbeats and then pivoted on the spot before venturing inside the brightly lit suite. Leaving her with little time to make her final decision…

Hastily, she rushed forward and stopped the heavy door from latching closed. Taking advantage of her body's muscle memory, Hermione kept her mind blank while she slipped inside the room. Eyes closed to the reality of the surroundings that she had recently only been allowed to visit in her nightmares. Instead, she chose to delay the unavoidable and concentrated on the familiar clinking of the lock's mechanisms as they slid into place.

There was an odd stillness that hung in the air as Malfoy waited somewhere in the self-imposed darkness for her to remove the cloak. When the drawn-out seconds stretched into a full minute or more he began to move about, his footsteps brought him closer to her position but he didn't acknowledge her.

The sounds of him shuffling papers to her right piqued her interest as anything having to do with the taboo bookshelves tended to do. She slowly opened her eyes and gazed at the unchanged scenery through her eyelashes. Expecting some sense of surreal displacement or even a required lashing of pain from her middle, it surprised her how strong the feeling of contentment was. Somehow, her subconscious still felt safe within the four stone walls that had witnessed her devastation.

Seemingly unperturbed by her bizarre behavior, he stood in front of the wall of antique tomes. His fingers plucked a tattered scroll from the hazy illusion of titles and added it to the small collection he had already gathered in his arms. Satisfied with his selections, he walked over to the settee and started his verification on whatever questionable detail he had found while studying.

After yet another lengthy silence, he suddenly looked up from the parchment he was skimming for information and spoke out loud as he stared across the room at the unlit fireplace, "If you would prefer to spend the night as a budding voyeur I cannot fault you. All that I can ask is you give some sign that you haven't succumbed to heat exhaustion under there?"

"Oh, very funny…"

"Thank you." With his request fulfilled, he went back to reading the discolored parchment as if she wasn't present.

Hermione unfastened the silver cloak clasp and let the thick material pool at her feet. She stepped from the handcrafted confines of her own making, walked over to the empty side of the sofa, and sat down on the very edge. Primed to flee at the first hint of animosity, her voice cracked on her question, "H… How have you been?"

"Terrific."

"I'm happy to hear it." She ignored the overt sarcasm in his short response but took the hint and skipped the rest of the traditional pleasantries, "Why did you call me here tonight?"

"Because I was delusional." He answered tersely, glaring at a specific set of words in the messy manuscript on his lap.

Her shoulders slumped slightly at the callous admission and her arms wrapped protectively around her torso, attempting to shield herself from any other detached digs he might hurl her way. "That is too bad… I had hoped you wanted to apologize for being an absolute prat."

"I did, but I do not see the point when the thought of spending time with me causes enough discomfort you would rather hide from sight. My embarrassment at daring to ask is sufficient, I assure you." The crestfallen wizard explained as he maintained his glowering at the offensive lettering.

She continued to stare at him out of the corner of her eye, clueless as to what to say to the frank confession. Her arrogant assumption of his belief that he had chosen correctly in turning her away was so erroneous it was hard for her to rectify the truth. Without thinking, the words that were meant only for her tumbled from her mouth, "I hide from most things these days… "

A pained groan tore through him at the unspoken part of her accidental revelation, that the drunken row had cost them both more than either had publicly let on. That their verboten midnight dalliances had made her such a good actress she had fooled him with her feigned composure over the last month. That the quest to find anything to dull the pain had sent her spiraling into a dependency on outdated potions and whatever other mind-altering substance she could find.

That if it wasn't for her needed usefulness to Harry in the future, she just might have taken Theodore's macabre guidance…

Redundant as it was, considering how many times she had found herself contemplating the different possibilities long before his specific suggestion.

"You shouldn't be here…"

And there it was, the inescapable rejection she had known was coming from the second she had realized what had been left for her in the library that morning. Granted, it was entirely misleading. How he had framed the decree, it was for her benefit in lieu of his selfish instincts, that led him to think it was acceptable behavior to immediately rebuff her after being the one to offer a damned invitation in the first place. Living with the shame of her choices wasn't enough, he just had to rub salt into her blistering wound.

"According to you!" She snapped in defiance. "I happen to be a fully sentient person who can make her own decisions on what is best for her, thank you very much!"

"One might argue if you are of sound mind when you are determined to cause yourself as much suffering as possible, Granger." His blunt tone remained, exposing the level of restraint he used to suppress his irritation with her dramatic rebuttal.

"And one could also argue that the person bringing my state of mind into the conversation shouldn't be commenting on such things. Moreso, when his own fickle temperament creates an unsettling amount of suspicion surrounding his reasons for the defamation in the first place."

In response to her combative goading, he set the parchment aside and stood up. Without speaking, he turned away and walked to where the discarded cloak sat in a crumpled heap near the door. A sudden imperative need for him to fold the offensive blight on the otherwise tidy space, apparently, eclipsed everything else; but also gave him the perfect alibi to pause and gather his thoughts.

Hermione's stare was incredulous as she watched his methodical movements over her shoulder. There was no inkling as to what those thoughts could possibly be displayed on the stiff features of the towering wizard who stepped forward to place the carefully tucked bundle atop the glistening ebony wood behind her. Anticipating his hurried retreat, she quickly spun around and clambered up onto her knees so most of her weight was balanced across the back of the sofa before whispering, "Draco, I'm sorry…"

"Don't…"

"For everything..."

"Stop speaking!"

"Please, listen to me…" She begged as she searched for any hint of emotion from the guarded guise of her lost suitor.

"No, you are going to shut that pretty little mouth of yours and listen to me," His suggestive demand conflicted with the strained projection of aloof detachment. "Do you understand?"

"I am confused, do you want me to keep quiet or answer your condescending question?"

He ignored her request for clarification and lifted a hand up to gently cup the side of her neck. His thumb ran along the contour of her taut jaw, over the jut of her chin, and then slipped down the other side of her windpipe. Wrapping his loose fist around her throat in what was supposed to be taken as a threatening reminder of his potential for violence.

The empty intimidation did not elicit the panicked alarm he had expected. She lifted her head higher and pressed the vulnerable cartilage of her larynx into his palm, calling the bluff.

His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. Dark pools of inky yearning, the dilation of his pupils betrayed his arousal at her submission. A senseless, yet undeniable, expression of her conviction for his decency. His grip tightened, deliberately keeping the pressure concentrated on his fingertips to avoid any irreversible damage to her airway. He pushed at the limits of her trust by cutting off the blood supply to her brain. The addled wizard quite literally held her life in his hand.

No matter how concerningly serene her mind became after the willing surrender, her body still reacted to the notion of danger…

Her heartbeat sped up in an attempt to reoxygenate her most vital organ.

Her chest heaved under the frenzied assumption that her constricted lungs were the issue.

Her skin tingled against the warmth that radiated from his fingers giving a subtle alert to the disregarded potential peril.

And, most embarrassingly, Hermione felt as a bolt of desire struck at her core and coaxed a soft perverse moan through her barely parted lips.

Disturbed by both of their receptivity to his brutish warning, the sound of her enthusiasm caused some sense to spark behind the strict charade. He relaxed his hold and let his hand drop down to his side. After a long moment in which he stood there in silence and stared at her, he finally spoke, "Don't you see! For your own good, you need to leave. Before I corrupt you further!"

"I thought we already discussed this... I am a grown witch, who is fully capable of understanding the repercussions and benefits of my choices," She rejected his pessimistic judgment.

"Why do you refuse me the chance to save you?"

"I'm not the one who is in need of rescuing."

"Damn all the Gods to Hades! Open your eyes, Hermione, and see I love you too much to keep hurting you like this!"

The bellowed confession should have filled her with tenderness for the broken boy in front of her, instead a wild rage pushed her heedless thoughts to be voiced, "You have got to be kidding me… How dare you, Draco Malfoy!"

Confusion knitted his eyebrows together, unprepared for the intensity of her venom. "I…"

"No more bullshit. Take it back, right now!" She shouted, causing him to take a step back before she belligerently continued. "I refuse to accept that this is how the wizard, who charmed an entire meadow into existence for a first date, has decided to profess his love! Not while attempting to convince himself to end our relationship… Fuck that! Take… It... Back!"

"Hermione…"

"Stop it! Stop saying my name like it hasn't been a curse on your tongue for years… Stop pretending like you get to make these choices for me!" She carried on, near shrieking but the release of her pent-up resentment felt rather cathartic. "Stop rehashing the same tired quandaries to our romance that we both decided do not matter months ago. Stop thinking of yourself as some doomed swindler debasing the poor naive virgin. Most importantly… Stop sulking, apologize for your drunken mistakes, and then… Come here and kiss me!"

A second anguished groan was ripped from deep inside of him as he closed the short amount of space between them and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was much too tender and short for her liking, but he still pulled far enough away to rest his forehead against hers and stare into her eyes. "Would you be so kind as to accept my apologies? I know I will be spending the rest of whatever is left of my life-redeeming for what I said that night. Please, give me the chance to prove myself."

"See… That wasn't so hard now was it?" Hermione teased.

"I do not know what you are talking about. It was absolutely agonizing…" He told her. "Especially when I am forced to be patient and wait to find out if I have been forgiven."

"Unfortunately, you will have to wait just a bit longer…"

"Of course, I will." He grumbled, his breath hot on her face.

"Since I was so rudely interrupted while trying to take accountability for my actions, earlier…"

He pulled back, glaring down at her as he cut her off again. "Because you are not responsible for everything that has happened between us. That blame belongs at my feet."

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, yeah. Are you done?"

Exasperation with her determination flashed across his features before he pursed his lips into a thin line, indicating his resolve to let her finish.

"I'm sorry for everything I did that made me feel unsafe the night of our falling out. I should have respected your boundaries. I should have never used my feelings as an excuse to manipulate you to get what I wanted," Her gaze drifted down to the faint discoloration under his eye and felt the familiar twinge of shame. "I have nothing to say for myself in regards to my rabid temper or the undeniable fact that I cannot control my liquor."

"Wait, are you honestly worried about this tiny thing?" He gestured vaguely towards his face.

"This is serious, Draco. I punched you in the face!"

"Remind me not to let you remove my shirt later, Kitten."

The attempt at silly banter, an obscene indication that she had succeeded in beginning to mend whatever had been severed, brought on a round of hot embarrassing tears. Blinking hard to keep the indignity at bay, she tried to keep up the light-hearted energy despite her rapid descent into despondence over the possibility of it all being undone, "Assumptive much?"

As soon as the renegade droplets that hung, unshed, from her eyelashes were noticed his arms wrapped around her. He pulled her against his chest and held her in a tight hug, whispering into the tangle of messy curls atop her head, "Hey, it was a bad joke, okay? I'm fine. You are forgiven for everything you listed and any other imagined slight your fantastic mind can conjure in the future, alright?"

"It is uncouth to lie. You have no idea what kind of atrocities I could take part in during the next one hundred years." She accused, only half kidding.

"What about me?"

"I'm sure you will grow into a very intimidating wizard one day…"

His chuckle jostled her and loosened his secure grasp on her upper torso, "Thank you for that sublime vote of confidence, but I was inquiring about the status of my forgiveness."

She drew far enough back that she could look up at him again, "Yes, you were forgiven long before I stepped into this room. I just needed to hear you say the words. But…"

"Why is there always a but?" He sighed, his body instantly rigid with obvious anxiety surrounding the implications of her using the conjunction.

"Where we go from here depends on your answers to two questions." Hermione ignored the complaint and finished her sentence.

"Sounds ominous…"

She shrugged, "I guess that depends on the answers and what they will lead me to do."

"Are you threatening me?" His tensed arms fell from the slack embrace on her waist and his trembling hands settled on either side of her to grip the dark gray cushioning.

"No, not all! I would consider it as sticking to what little remains of my tattered morals."

The unintended barb at his impact on her life made him flinch. He recovered quickly and gave her one of his classic smirks, "In that case, ask away…"

"Is Parkinson under the impression that the two of you are anything more than platonic?"

His eyes twinkled with his amusement as the smug grin shifted into a full smile, "Is that what has been keeping you up at night, pet? The thought of me engaging in some blissful reunion with my former girlfriend?"

She cocked an eyebrow, stayed quiet, and waited for the answer.

"I am so sorry to have to put your twisted little fantasies to rest. Until quite recently, I wasn't in the physical shape required of such tasks due to a variety of mitigating factors." He teased, leaning forward so he towered over her. "And once I was… My mind was too busy elsewhere, concocting different ways I could get you alone."

"That isn't what I asked…" Unwilling to fall victim to his charms, she slipped from her spot on the couch and stood up to her full height.

"Okay. Fine. If you insist on taking the fun out of it…" He bent towards her, bringing them face to face, and looked her directly in the eye. "No, I know for a fact Pansy doesn't have some grand delusion of a reconciliation nor does she want one. I will admit that she got caught up in her fawning, but you seem to conveniently forget that I almost died in that bathroom. I needed to feel like someone cared… So I let those lines blur farther than I should have, it was too easy to slip back into old habits. Regardless, after your stunt last night, the realization of how far the witch was pushing Nott's feelings for her hit like a starving quintaped. I would bet my last galleon their betrothal will be announced by the end of summer."

Overwhelmed by the unexpected divulgence of such sensitive information, that hinted at just how precarious his mental state was during their time apart, she said the first thing that came to mind, "Well… that is… wonderful news, I suppose."

"I will make sure to pass your condolences along to Theodore."

"There is no need to take it that far…"

"No one would believe your congratulations."

"My ambivalence should suffice for a fictitious engagement announcement involving two people who do not hide their hatred for me."

Finding no fault in her logic, he straightened up from his hunched position and rolled his shoulders to relieve the lingering tension. "Let's get this over with… What is the other question?"

"There is something else I would like to discuss first."

"By all means…"

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and wrapped her arms around her middle to protect from the distressing memories, " I… I was there… The nights you spent in the Hospital Wing healing… I cared and I will always care, no matter what happens next…"

"And what exactly is going to happen next?" Her layered confession that conflicted heavily with his reality was ignored entirely.

"I don't know…"

He rolled his eyes in frustration at her elusive responses and mirrored her defensive gesture by crossing his arms across his chest. "Quit trying to give me a heart attack with suspense and ask whatever it is you feel like asking!"

"Alright…" She had run out of ways to delay the inevitable. It was time for the ultimatum she should have made the minute she had figured out he was behind the attacks. "You are not allowed to hurt a fly for the rest of the year. I do not care if you accidentally bump into a Second Year and cause them to trip and scrape their knee… I will report you to Scrimgeour and testify at your hearing with the Wizengamot myself. Do you understand me?"

Hermione watched as the wizard stood a few feet away, frozen with indecision over the limited solutions left to him. Each with their own devastating consequences. They both knew what she was demanding, not asking, of him.

Silence her?

Or…

Risk his mother?

Hero?

Or…

Villain?

He had run out of time to choose.

Too many had been hurt and she couldn't stand idly by while he solidified his plans to kill their Headmaster.

Draco closed his eyes and took a deep shuddering breath before opening them again. Any traces of the internal torment caused by his forced selection were wiped from his features. He nodded slowly in acceptance of her scheming, "You win, Kitten... I will agree to your terms, as long as you remember not to let another wizard manhandle you the way Smith or Nott did. You are mine and I cannot promise to contain my rage if it happens in front of me a second time."

Her heart fractured with the knowledge of what the decision cost him. She knew too well the camouflaged mixture of emotions that he refused to allow her to see. The thick unbearable weight of sorrow-filled treachery at odds with the freeing liberation of no longer being held captive by a million vague anxieties. The kind of foreboding brought on by living with the constant stream of multiple possible destinies in your head. The kind that could only be quieted once the repercussions you could survive enduring were embraced, not just acknowledged.

Granted, the calm was always astonishingly fleeting. Replaced, almost immediately, with new worries and choices that needed to be made. A never-ending cycle of guilt-ridden blundering that had all begun because of a drunken request for a kiss.

She stayed mute, not having the proper words to express her reprehensible selfish relief, as she rushed around the settee and wrapped her arms around him. Not caring that his own were still crossed and pinned awkwardly between them. Hermione lifted her head and vowed, "When you are ready we will start planning. You are not alone in this, I promise."

For the briefest of seconds, he was the lost little boy from that night in the Prefect's bathroom. Exposed and defenseless to the varied whims of those around him. Except, he had nowhere to flee to this time. Not when she was the reason for the desperate fear…

As quickly as the crack had appeared, he wrenched control back over his restraint and shook his head as he stared down at her. "You are such a perplexing creature…"

"Thank you… I think?"

"Mmm…" He hummed his recognition of her confused gratitude while pulling his trapped arms loose from the confines of her hold. Returning the protective cradling, he leaned down and tucked her head under his chin before continuing his rumination. "You are intelligent enough to realize you would be charged with abetting a Death Eater, correct?"

"Yes."

"And you honestly believe that saving the senile fool would be worth sitting alongside me in Azkaban?"

"Saving you from having to make that choice would be. Saving anyone else from being murdered by another one of your shoddy plans would be." She mumbled into his chest, concentrating on the distinct smell of him to distract from the hard truths she had to tell. "And yes… Extending what little of that old wizard's life is left would be worth sitting in a cell for the rest of my life if that is what it took. I don't know how you can be blind to the fact that he is instrumental in any chance there is of defeating Him."

"As if I am not intimately acquainted with the reasons why the Dark Lord would want me to off the arthritic lunatic…" His tone was annoyed, but from her position, she couldn't see the accompanying obligatory eye roll at her assessment.

"I…" She wished that she had the right words to assure him that wasn't what she had meant, but her fatigued mind couldn't find them. "I think we are both too exhausted to be having this conversation. Maybe we should wait to find the answer to my befuddling principles until morning?"

Draco's locked arms tighten further around her, "You are going to stay?"

"Only if you keep your shirt on…"