A/N: Let this go down as proof of my love for each and every one of you, because if I wasn't so concerned about disappointing you by not posting a new chapter, I'd probably be asleep by now! We're moving offices at work, and today was the last day of an endless week of packing, (we're supposed to report to the new office, which we haven't been allowed to visit, on Monday morning,) helpfully punctuated with e-mails every day telling us that they changed their mind *again* about how the divisions should be organized. And it's been snowing. Exhausted doesn't begin to describe how I feel, and yet here I am. Posting. I hope you all like this chapter! I also hope it's coherent since I'm *not* at my peak proof-reading abilities at the moment. If anyone catches typos, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know!
Section 10:
Hermione exhaled a sigh of relief when she felt Harry finally leave. He had sat outside her window for hours. Hermione had been tempted half a dozen times to open the curtains just long enough to yell at him that he was wasting his time, but she always managed to restrain herself. No matter how quickly she opened and shut the curtains, he'd still be able to see her, and the last thing she wanted was for him to see her cry.
Of course, in her hurry to cast her silencing charm to block Harry from the sound of her tears, Hermione had made a slight error. For a silencing charm to be fully successful, it must operate on four closed walls. Any open windows or doors will let the sound out. In Hermione's room, the closed walls around her were sealed against sound by her silencing charm, but she had been in such a hurry to cast the necessary spells that she hadn't fully closed her bedroom door, which led to the head's common room. This meant that when Draco entered the Head's Common room shortly after lunch, he could clearly hear Hermione inside her room, crying as if her heart had just been destroyed.
Hermione didn't hear Draco enter her room. She didn't even realize it when he seated himself next to her on the bed, until she felt his hand gently stroking her hair. But even when she realized, she couldn't stop herself from crying. The tears had been building for far too long for her to be able to hold them back anymore. She sobbed without restraint and without anything held back while Draco continued gently, silently stroking her hair.
Eventually, the sobs softened and slowed, and finally stopped. Wordlessly, Draco handed her his handkerchief, which she accepted gratefully, carefully mopping away her tears.
"That was rather impressive," Draco said, attempting to lighten the mood. "I didn't know that a woman of your size had that much water in her."
"Well," Hermione replied with a sniffle, "I do always try to exceed expectations."
"Others try, love," Draco corrected. "You succeed." Hermione's smile in return was watery at best, and soon dissolved into a grimace of pain.
Without another word, Draco kicked off his shoes and climbed fully onto the bed so he could gather Hermione in his arms, settling her body against his and tucking her face into the crook of his neck.
"What did he do this time?" Draco muttered. He'd intended the question to be rhetorical, but Hermione never could sit quietly while people accused Harry of wrongdoing.
"It wasn't his fault," she insisted. Her lips were centimeters from his neck, muffling her speech to the point where he felt the vibration of it more than he heard it, but he knew what she said, nonetheless. It was what she always said.
"Alright, this time I *really* don't believe you," Draco argued half-heartedly. He hated the way that Hermione defended Potter even when it was obviously tearing her apart, but he knew that she'd grow more passionate in his defense the more Draco tried to make her see the truth, and he didn't want to upset her by turning this into a real row. The poor girl was upset enough as it was. He wasn't about to make it worse.
Hermione shook her head and squirmed in his arms. Draco let out an exasperated sigh and tightened his grip around her. If she thought he was going to let her go when she so *obviously* needed to be held just so she could start an argument over how Saint Potter was an innocent lamb who couldn't *possibly* be responsible for anyone's pain, then she had another thing coming. Fortunately, she seemed content with rearranging herself so that her cheek rested on his chest instead of pulling away entirely.
"It really wasn't his fault," she insisted, her voice coming through clearly now that there was nothing blocking it. "It was mine. I did something stupid."
"Stupid? You?" Draco repeated questioningly, shifting her slightly so that she'd lie more comfortably against him. "Not possible."
"More than just possible," she argued, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a scroll of parchment and her wand. A quick tap and simple phrase later, she handed the parchment to Draco who looked at it with surprise mingled with acute sympathy pains. She'd never told him exactly what she saw when she looked at the Mirror or Erised, but he didn't need to ask to know that this was it.
"And here I thought you were doing so well," Draco murmured, mentally berating himself for not having seen this coming. "Oh Granger, I thought you were going to try to leave this behind. Why didn't you tell me you'd drawn this?"
"I knew you wouldn't approve," Hermione replied embarrassment clear in her tone. "I know I shouldn't have drawn it, but I just couldn't help myself. I kept it blank except for when I was sure I was alone."
"How did Potter find it?" Draco questioned, trying to sort out the sequence of events.
"Remember when you knocked on my door this morning to see if I was ready to go down for breakfast?" Hermione asked. Draco simply nodded in response. "I was looking at it then," she explained. "But I got flustered when you said you were coming in if I didn't come out. I vanished the picture and shoved the parchment into the closest book I could reach, hoping you wouldn't notice. It turned out that was the book I leant to the third years I tutored after breakfast."
"That would explain why you were tearing your room apart before lunch," Draco responded. "Potter found it?" Hermione nodded. "He broke the charm?" Another nod. "And the two of you finally had it out about your feelings for him?" Hermione nodded one more time and snuggled closer, wrapping her arms around Draco's waist and clinging to him tightly. Draco planted a kiss on top of her head and slid his hand under her hair to rub at the tense muscles of her neck.
"How did it go?" he asked carefully.
Draco's answer was a sudden wet spot on his shirt. Apparently, Hermione had not run out of tears after all, especially when she was reminded of her confrontation with the love of her life.
"Not well, then?"
Hermione stifled a broken chuckle. "He said he doesn't want to lose my *friendship*."
Draco snorted. "Wanker. Sod your feelings, as long as *he* gets to remain comfortable, is that it?"
"Draco…" Hermione replied warningly.
"I'm defending *you*!" he protested. "Don't I get to insult the idiot if I'm doing it to defend you?"
"No," she answered simply. "You don't." Draco grumbled something under his breath that sounded vaguely like 'spoilsport,' but his grumblings were contradicted by the exceedingly gentle hands massaging her neck and cradling her close against him.
"Speaking of defending me…" she stated hesitantly a few moment later. Draco perked up immediately.
"Do I get to beat him up?" he asked eagerly.
"No!"
"Please?"
"Draco, no! How many times do I have to tell you that-"
"Alright, alright," Draco cut her off before she could go on another one of her rants. For someone who had just had her heart broken, she really was surprisingly overprotective of the idiot who did the breaking. "No insulting him or beating him. So what *can* I do to defend you?"
"Well…" Hermione hedged. Draco redoubled his caresses, trying to help her relax. It sort of worked. "Harry didn't seem too… fond of the idea of giving me the time and space I need to get over him." Draco bit his lip hard to keep from giving in to the urge to say that it was because Potter was a selfish bastard who didn't *want* Hermione to get over being in love with him. "So if you could… I don't know… stick close for a while? He'll be less likely to try to talk to me if you're there."
"You can count on it," Draco promised. "I'll be there for you."
Hermione let out another broken chuckle. "It's the end of the world; I'm turning to Draco Malfoy to protect me from Harry Potter."
Draco laughed softly. "Well, if this is a sign of the apocalypse, then I can't think of anyone I'd rather spend it with than you." Hermione sighed and nestled closer, and Draco could feel some of the tension releasing from her body as she cuddled into him.
"Stay here till I fall asleep?" she asked around a yawn.
"I'll stay till you wake up," Draco promised. Glancing down at the lines of her face, he saw her lips curl up slightly in a smile as her eyes drifted shut. A powerful wave of protectiveness washed over him and he placed a soft kiss on top of her head.
"It'll be alright, Granger," he whispered, as soothingly as he could.
Hermione opened her eyes and twisted her head so she could look up at him. "How?" she demanded. "How will it be alright?"
Draco shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. "I don't know. I'm just trying to be comforting. Isn't that what you're supposed to say to weepy females?"
Hermione managed a weak smile. "Best not to say anything," she stated. "You wouldn't want me to accuse you of lying later on, after all."
"I just want to be able to say something to take the pain away," he replied with almost painful sincerity.
"I don't think there *is* anything you can say that'll do that."
Draco pondered this for a moment before smiling as a new idea occurred to him. "Marry me?" he asked hopefully.
In spite of herself, Hermione laughed. "Alright, so I was wrong," she conceded. "That *does* make me feel a little better."
"Is that a yes, then?"
"No, Draco."
"But it made you feel better?"
"Yes, Draco."
"So what else should I do?" he asked eagerly.
"Just hold on to me for now," she answered, she sighed, letting her eyes slip shut again.
"I can do that," he replied softly. "I can do just exactly that."
And he did.