A/N: Yay, I'm back!! Wait...am I the only one cheering? Well, if I am, I don't blame you...this chapter is abominably late...and on top of that...it's short! Don't you just hate me? But...I finished my exams, and I got a job. It's a temporary thing, but it's full-time, i.e. 8 to 4. So, needless to say, I'm as tired as hell. This chapter is my way of saying 'MERRY CHRISTMAS' to all my readers, if there are any left. I hope there are...

Anyway, hope you have a [fairly] enjoyable read...and don't forget the feedback...as usual, I love it. On that note, a huge hug to all the reviewers for the previous chapter...your reviews meant tons :D

Chapter 28:

"OW!"

Draco awoke with a start, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. Clearly, he was not in his room. The red and gold hanging screamed as much. As did the owner of the room.

"Malfoy, you IMBECILE!"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, praying for mercy, before he fixed his gaze on the angry brunette who had picked herself off the floor and was currently rubbing the back of her neck.

"Granger. Pleasant morning, isn't it?" he asked blithely, as though he hadn't woken up in her room, on her bed and found her on the floor.

Her half-crazed look had him backing away from her slightly. Surprisingly, when she spoke next, it was with a moderately calm voice.

"Pleasant?" she queried, staring at him as though he had grown another head or two. "You…you pushed me off my bed! So, no! It's not pleasant!"

He rubbed his face wearily before responding. "You fell off your bed. I didn't push you off."

"I fell off because you were on it, taking up all my space!"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It's hardly my fault that your bed's tiny."

"My bed is not tiny! It's a single bed…it's meant for one person only!"

" You should have used an Expanding Charm on it, then."

"Why should I have? It's not like I was expecting anyoneelse –"

"Granger," he interrupted, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "You're so boring."

Hermione blinked once, twice. She could do little more than stare at him as he fished around for his clothes, indignation robbing her of the right words. He had located his pants and was in the process of pulling them on when he felt something whack him on the back of his head.

"Fuck, Granger, what's with you?" he growled angrily, rubbing his head and turning around to face her. A roll of parchment was clenched in her hand, crumpled at the side where it had made contact with his person. A small scuffle ensued as he made to grab it away from her and throw it to the other side of the room.

"What's with me?" she snarled, pushing him away. "What's wrong with you?"

Draco could feel a headache coming on and it had nothing to do with his alcohol consumption from the night prior. He pinched the bridge of his nose and backed away from her, throwing on his robe. He wasn't in the mood to argue with her.

But you knew this would happen, didn't you?

He had known. And yet, he had still crawled into her bed. But for some reason, he didn't regret the decision. If he could have gone back to that moment in time, he would have done the same thing all over again. So, he exhaled heavily and sat back down on her bed, looking up at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue. When she didn't say anything, he raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"What's wrong with me, Granger?"

"Everything, obviously!" she snapped, running a hand through her hair. "Just because I haven't slept with every boy in school doesn't make me boring."

He furrowed his brow. "I never said it made you boring, Granger. In fact it's a good thing you didn't sleep with every boy in school…sleeping with minors is illegal, not to mention, disgusting."

"Malfoy!" she exclaimed, frustrated. "Can you please be serious?"

Oh. It was one of those discussions.

"Alright, Granger, what do you want me to say?"

"That you're sorry, maybe?"

"For what?"

"For calling me boring just because I haven't expanded my bed to accommodate more than one person. Unlike you, I'm not in the habit of sleeping around!"

"Merlin, Granger, it was a joke!"

"Then you have a shit sense of humour!"

"And you have no sense of humour!"

"Yeah, I'm sure according to you a good sense of humour goes hand in hand with being a complete slu-"

"Granger, what the fuck –"

" –should start inviting guys to my bed, maybe that will develop my sense of –"

"No! No, it bloody well will not! Why are you blowing this so out of pro-"

" –go around sleeping with half the bloody school and every fucking day I'll hear about someone new –"

"What?!"

" –like Lavender Brown, of all people, you had to sleep with her?"

They stopped speaking, each eyeing the other warily. A sense of melancholy crept through Draco as it dawned upon him what was really bothering her. It wasn't the fact that he'd shared her bed, or that he'd accidentally pushed her off, or even his sense of humour.

"Lavender Brown, huh?" he asked quietly, leaning forward, his arms resting on his thighs, head down, eyes closed. He didn't look up at her to gauge her reaction. He didn't need to. The shift in the air was enough to let him know that he was right.

Lavender Brown...that had been so long ago, he had almost forgotten. He absently wondered who had told her about it. And more importantly –why?

"Granger," he began, and then paused, not sure as to what he wanted to say. He wasn't even sure that he wanted to say anything, but he was tired of fighting her. Exhausted. Wasn't that why he had slept with her –to divest himself of some of that exhaustion? And it had worked. So, he owed her an answer. "You know there've been other girls –quite a lot, in fact. You know that."

He felt, rather than saw, her sit down next to him. "I know," she conceded quietly.

"Does it bother you that much?"

Silence. And then –

"No, it doesn't. I just –I just want to know how many Gryffindors."

"Three. Yourself included."

"And –did it mean anything?"

Draco frowned as he heard her voice crack a little at the end. She still didn't understand. And he wasn't sure whether he had the right words to explain the way he felt. He wasn't even sure if the right words existed. Telling her he didn't care for her at all would be an outright lie –and it wasn't an option he was considering, anyway. He did care for her –strongly. And he knew it had very little to do about the way she looked, or anything else physical.

Was this the fabled 'love' everyone kept talking about? This almost physically painful sensation –was this what made scores of people happy? Draco wouldn't know –he had never experienced it before.

Do I want to?

Suddenly, his clothes felt too tight on him, stifling him, constricting him. His breaths were shallow and he couldn't get enough oxygen to his brain. He couldn't think straight. Love. The whole word felt so...constraining. So final.
Vaguely, he remembered that Hermione was waiting for an answer. He got to his feet quickly, wanting to get out of the room as fast as possible. Wanting to get away from her and that feeling as fast as possible, before it suffocated him completely.

"No," he murmured vaguely, stumbling towards the door. "Just with you."

He was out of the room before she could react.

"Hey, 'Mione, you alright?"

Hermione looked up and flashed Ron a quick smile. "I'm fine."

"You're pretty quiet today," he added, eyeing her dubiously.

"I –I'm just thinking." She sighed.

"You always are. Tell me," he turned to her, a serious expression on his face. "what do you think about so much?"

She gave a sardonic smile and averted her gaze towards the wide expanse of the lake. "You really don't want to know."

"I really do, actually."

The gravity in his voice set her on alert. "Why?" she asked warily.

"I can tell that something's bothering you. And I want to help you."

Hermione didn't respond, but her stomach knotted up at his words. She was lying to him. Merlin, she was lying to him! And yet, there he was, solid and dependable as ever...acting the way that reminded her why he was her best friend in the first place. Why she loved him so much. Why she didn't want to lose him as a friend.

The irony of the situation hit her then. She was lying to a friend she shouldn't have been lying to about something which would inevitably drive him away, because she didn't want to lose him. Was that even right?

And –he wanted to help her?

Unlikely, she thought, with a mental snort. Not unless he could take a peek into Draco's head and find out what it was that had bothered him so much earlier that morning that it had caused him to literally stumble from her room. He had looked like a caged wild animal then. Trapped.
Hermione gave a quick shake of her head to drive away her thoughts. It had probably been nothing –her overwrought mind was making things up.

But she still couldn't forget about it.

And she probably wouldn't forget about it until she had cleared it out with him. She resolved to talk to him later that night.

"Hermione."

Ron's voice broke through her musings.

"Yes, Ron?"

"Let me help you."

Oh. Merlin. She felt a familiar stinging in her nose and a lump form in her throat. This would not do! She blinked rapidly in an effort to ward off the hot tears. "Ron –it's...fine. There's nothing you need to help me with."

He looked at her then, in a way that made her believe that he saw right through all her lies. She wondered where a distraction was when she needed it. Harry and Ginny had gone off to spend some 'alone-time' together and they wouldn't resurface for a while...and no one in the vicinity was likely to interrupt their conversation.

"Hermione...please."

She sighed and weariness settled in her bones. She was so tired. Of lying. Of pretending. Of walking away. Of being walked away from.
There was no helping it. Ginny knew. Harry knew. Parkinson and Blaise knew. Ron had to find out.

"Ron..." she swallowed painfully. "I –it's about what Blaise said."

Ron frowned in thought. "About Malfoy...and you?"

Hermione nodded. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words ensued. The crease between his forehead deepened momentarily, before disappearing completely as his eyes widened dramatically in horror.

And pain. And anger. And disgust.

The silence between the stretched on and on, until Hermione thought that maybe she had lost her hearing ability the same way she had lost her mind. Because, obviously, she had to be crazy to have told Ron the truth. But she couldn't help it –the weariness refused to let her take any other route out.

"No," he finally whispered.

She looked away.

He left.