Yay new chapter! I'm trying to build the tension between the two, so if you're wondering when you'll see M shizz, it'll come up. I also want to thank sweet-tang-honey for reviewing!

For the ninth time in Hermione's life, she couldn't bring herself to do her homework.

It was an unsettling thought. She thrived in an educated environment and lived off of books, dates and life-saving information, but she just couldn't do it anymore. She was bored. Nearly Headless Nick's small conversation with her played in her head over and over, almost every day. For eight years, Hermione had focused her time in destroying Voldemort and studying spells so she could use them against their sworn enemy.

There was never a set plan for the "after." She attempted to talk about it, but it was too much to handle. Her dreams and aspirations seemed trivial compared to their predicament. Perhaps, in some faraway land, she could sit back and tune out the rest of the world. Unfortunately for her, she was not in a faraway land. Hermione was stuck in Hogwarts because she chose to be here.

When life handed you a box of ear wax flavored Bertie Bott's, you managed to make it taste good. Right?

Hermione sighed and put her Potions notes away; she could deal with it later. The weather was slightly chilly today, but she grabbed her robes and headed outside to clear her mind. Not many students were in the courtyard so she sat down on the nearest bench she could find. A cool breeze washed over Hogwarts, knocking some of her loose parchment out of Hermione's bag. "Bollocks!"

"Since when did you start saying that?"

"Ever since all my papers started flying everywhere!" Hermione quickly grabbed another one before it landed near a puddle. Harry handed her the rest of her papers and sat down on the bench. "Thanks," said Hermione as she sat down next to him.

Harry peered out into the lake and asked, "Where have you been? I know you're busy, but you can't be that busy." He glanced at her before returning his attention to the lake. "You can always talk to me, I hope to know that."

Hermione sighed. "Oh Harry, I do. It's just. . . It's hard to explain."

He gave her a quizzical look and nudged her knee. "I'm sure it is."

She laughed. "I can't. . .This doesn't feel the same to me anymore. I feel I'm in a dream state or – or I'm not even living." Hermione rested her head on Harry's shoulder. "What do I do?"

Harry was silent for a long time. "Dunno. I thought coming to school would give me a sense of normalcy, but you're right, it feels like I'm dreaming. I wonder if I'm useless to the world now that Voldemort is dead."

"Harry!" Hermione admonished. "You're not useless. You have a chance to live and watch your kids grow, something your parents couldn't do." She gave him a tiny punch on his arm and smiled. "I guess you're not used to being normal, hmm?"

Shrugging, Harry replied, "I guess not. In order to move on I have to figure out what I'm passionate about, right?" Hermione nodded. "Well . . . how about a Healer?"

Both Harry and Hermione stared at one another before they burst out laughing. "Nice try," she said. "You are not suited for hospitals and holding people's hands. And anyway, I thought you wanted to be an Auror?"

He nodded in acknowledgement. "Yes, but I need a break from fighting and training. I think."

"I think you might be afraid of experiencing something as horrific as Voldemort if you decide to become an Auror. But it's over. I mean, there will always be little idiots running around with dark objects in their pockets, but how bad could it be?" Another gust of wind swept through, causing Hermione's hair to fly all over Harry's face. "Sorry."

Harry smiled. "Maybe. Hermione, what happened? We were so sure of ourselves."

"Unfortunately, it's one thing I can't find in the library."

Another bout of silence came through, and Hermione snuggled closer to Harry. She always felt calm around him. Even in moments of doubt his presence somehow made things better. If only she could sit here for the remainder of the school year. . .

"Hermione, what's going on between you and Ron?"

She silently cursed Harry for bringing him up in their moment of peace. "Nothing."

He snorted. "Obviously nothing is going on, which is why I'm asking. Ron keeps wondering how you're doing, but I can't reply because I truly don't know how you're doing, not to mention he should be asking you these ques–"

"Alright! For Merlin's sake, I know. I've been slacking and I don't have time to reply to his endless letters," Hermione snapped. "He's over at Diagon Alley making toys while I'm trying to get my work done!" She stood up and collected her bag.

"Wh-where are you going? I thought we were having a conversation?" Harry looked at in her in disbelief as she began to walk away from him. "Hermione! C'mon! I just wanted to talk to you!" She ignored Harry and stormed into Hogwarts, feeling pissed at herself for PMSing and being rude towards Harry. He was only trying to help. Hermione kept walking in a fast pace, huffing under her breath and nearly crying. Why oh why did she have to treat Harry that way?

One thing was certain: he was right about the Ron situation. She didn't know how to explain to him what was going on between them. Once reality set in – the reality being there were thousands of mourners and homeless citizens due to the war while she was in the limelight – she couldn't bring herself to be in a relationship. Hermione should be thankful, and she was, but this after-the-war-elation was too much for her to handle. She grew up. Having Ron acknowledge her feelings for her and return them wasn't her top priority anymore.

Should she and Ron break up? Hermione immediately stopped and leaned against the wall. People only broke up when something serious happened. Nothing serious was happening. Therefore, there was no need to break up. She wasn't deliberately ignoring Ron, she was simply . . . All right, she was ignoring him.

Hermione prided in herself for not being spoiled and a bitch, but this was unspeakable. Unthinkable. She couldn't treat Ron that way at all. After everything the two went through, she wasn't merely going to discard him like that. Deep down, Hermione knew she had the power to break things off, and Ron would let her.

Disgusted with herself, she turned a sharp corner and nearly hit her head against a pillar. Once the initial shock wore off, she realized this was the same room she chanced upon, and the very room she and Malfoy were fighting over. She spent a better part of her Saturday looking for the room, but couldn't remember where it was. Without further delay, she went inside and hoped Malfoy wasn't inside.

The place looked the same, but there was one glaring difference: while it was cold and windy outside, the window showed a bright and sunny day with birds singing. There was even sunlight coming in the room. It was extremely odd; it appeared as if someone put a fake photograph of the lake and stuck it on the window. Perhaps Malfoy charmed the window in order to make the dreary day look not so dreary. At any rate, she quickly situated herself before she would be kicked out the room.

There was nothing out of the ordinary; the couch was in the exact same place, it was still cozy and it appeared the stairs weren't rigged. Hermione immediately sat down, inspected for any rats lurking underneath, then adjusted herself and relaxed. She wanted to calm down as much as she could before Malfoy came inside. She wasn't going down with a fight, but arguing wasn't a top priority.

Hermione wasn't sure why she felt the need to occupy this room. She didn't want to give herself a headache and she certainly wasn't a mean person who would treat an ex-Death Eater horribly. There was something with this room that resonated with her. In a way, Hogwarts was her purgatory – she could easily quit school then feel like a complete failure (her version of hell), or she could finish and be a successful witch (her version of heaven). She needed to escape, and this was the only place she could find that provided some peace.

Once Hermione felt comfortable enough, she took out her Potions and actually finished her homework. Realizing her legs were asleep, she got up a stretched with all her might. When she finished, she turned around and saw none other than Malfoy, sitting on the stairs with a blank expression. Hermione froze and gauged Malfoy's face. Saying mean things to one another was something Hermione was not looking forward to.

Hesitantly she asked, "How long have you been here?"

Malfoy shrugged. "Dunno. How long have you been here?"

Narrowing her eyes and folding her arms over her chest, Hermione answered, "Dunno. I suppose you are going to try to throw me out again?"

He scoffed and sat up, walking over to the window, carefully staying away from Hermione. "That clearly didn't work out last time. I like to be a bit, shall we say, creative with my techniques," Malfoy replid. Hermione's heart skipped a beat, but upon seeing his already pale face even paler and his haggard look, she concluded he wouldn't be able to do any harm today. She humphed and took out her Transfiguration homework.

It was extremely hard for her to pay attention while he was sitting down and possibly planning ways to throw Hermione out the window. It made her skin prickly, her head swimming, and her forehead began to perspire. By no means was Hermione weak, but being in the same presence as Malfoy with no place to run was nerve-wrecking for her. It was one situation she wasn't prepared for, even if she asked for it.

As the clock ticked, Hermione got more nervous and couldn't concentrate. She was tempted to break the ice, but they were already on thin ice and speaking up would only worsen the issue. Anytime she got nervous she would talk . . . a lot. Sometimes it worked and other times it didn't. Malfoy was near the window, away from her and occasionally staring off. Her heart rate slowed down because now she didn't feel the need to open her mouth. If he could ignore her, so could Hermione.

Once Hermione actually calmed down and finished all of her work, she began to pack quietly while peeking at Malfoy. He was still in the same position five minutes ago, and that included staring at the window . . . again. Perhaps she was watching him for too long for he suddenly said, "See something you like?" Hermione expected him to smirk, but it was lost under his grimace. She rolled her eyes and answered with a tight, "No."

Just as she was about ready to go up the stairs, Malfoy said, "Nuh uh, you're not leaving yet."

She turned around and snapped, "Excuse me? I can damn well leave whenever I feel like it!"

"Let me remind you something: I occupied this room first. You came in second. If you're going to come in here and barge into my personal sanctuary, I feel it is only right we strike up a deal," Malfoy said calmly. He got up and slowly walked over to where she was standing, although he was several paces away. To her annoyance, Hermione noticed Malfoy's legs were slightly shaking and briefly wondered what was causing him this misery. Not that she really cared, it was just Hermione tended to be a little too observant.

Now this got Hermione's attention. "What . . . do you have in mind?"

A moment of hesitation swept through Malfoy's face before he gave his proposal. "I'm a little . . . behind in my school work. I'll let you stay here whenever you want – and I won't bother you – unless you give me any of your homework I request. At any time, for any class."

Hermione was fully prepared to object and call him bonkers, but after a few seconds of debating, she realized it wasn't a bad deal. In fact, it wasn't even a proper Malfoy deal. It was something Ron and Harry tried to do several times over their school career, but of course she brushed it aside. Malfoy's proposal leaned more towards a favor than a deal.

Hmm. "You know, ever since your little fight, the Headmistress has asked me to write a report on you after every detention. If she suddenly gets a report saying how you misbehaved . . ." This was a complete and utter lie, but she needed some leverage. Although Malfoy said he would let her use this room and not bother her, she still wasn't sure about it.

Malfoy's jaw tightened. "What do you want? You're never satisfied, are you?"

"I'll be satisfied when you agree to my terms." She crossed her arms and smiled in victory.

"And your bloody terms are . . .?"

"Whenever I ask you to do something for me, you do it. Oh, and I want to make a contract."

Malfoy's eyebrows furrowed in distaste. "No contract. I don't want something written on my forehead or my family jewels falling off. And if you want a slave to do everything for you, just hire a house elf."

Ugh, it was just a contract. And yes, she was planning on using the same spell on the contract, but clearly she had to come up with something else. Plus, she wasn't asking Malfoy to make her bed or anything, but he was making it seem like she wanted him to. Perhaps she should. And how dare he suggest using a house elf! "Firstly, there will be no need for you to worry about the contract. It would make me feel a bit better if we had one." Malfoy rolled his eyes, but she ignored it. "Also, what kind of person do you think I am? Do I look like I would ever use a house elf? I would never do that to them! They don't deserve that treatment. I know it's not an issue for you –"

"Alright, alright, stop getting your panties in a twist. What else do you want me to do aside from cleaning your shoes?"

He was such a crude arse. She thought for a few seconds. "You must be civil towards me all the time –"

"I said I would, didn't I? Or where you too busy –"

"I could never know with you!"

"For fucks sake, are you that afraid of me? Do I look like I have the ability to throw curses at you? Do I look like I can even stand on my two feet?" Malfoy's face was red from anger and yelling too much.

Her face burned with shame. She could barely look up, let alone even stand. He was right – she was afraid of him. She was afraid of his history and his future. After all, he didn't do much when she was being tortured by his aunt. Hermione's best friends hated him, and she was pretty sure she felt the same. While he appeared to have some difficulty adjusting to whatever his condition was, Hermione was having a hard time comprehending that Malfoy was no longer the same despicable, robust person he was. His vigor and fight was lost, but former Malfoy was all Hermione knew of him. She couldn't wrap her head around his new Malfoy – a boy with no money whatsoever, who lost his father and everything he ever knew. Someone who was asking for homework and a little bit of help.

Quietly she said, "You're right. I – I shouldn't have said that." Finally summoning the courage the look up, she stared straight into Malfoy's eyes and uttered two words she thought she could never say to him: "I'm sorry."

With those parting words, she ran out of the room, embarrassment and humiliation being the reason why her eyes, not the cold air, were wet.