The Reason

Hermione had trudged up to her room, not intending to think about Draco and his proposal at all. She flopped down on the bed face-first and prayed that Narcissa would return before her hour was up, rescuing her from having to give Draco an answer.

It wasn't that she didn't want to take him up on his offer; he'd intrigued her, and that wasn't an easy thing to do. I'm just more of a realist than he is. I know that a relationship involving the two of us would be doomed to failure.

She balled her fist and then rested her chin on it. When had he changed? She'd enjoyed the stolen kisses, as forbidden as they'd been- but he'd still been an arrogant prat then, and easy to ignore. She was definitely having difficulty ignoring him now. Why can't he just be an ass again? She laughed softly to herself. Who would ever believe that she was sitting here, wishing for Draco Malfoy to be the world's biggest jerk again?

It would make her decision easier if he were still nasty. Then again, she was more than impressed by his more... human side. She rolled onto her back and closed her eyes, wishing fervently that there was a clear solution to this situation. She had just begun to drift into sleep when she felt a hand shake her gently. Her eyelids fluttered open, and Draco was smirking at her.

"Awfully relaxed, aren't you, for having to make such a difficult decision?" She sat up and rubbed her eyes sleepily.

"What time is it?"

"About quarter after ten," he said quietly, sitting down on the edge of her bed. She didn't shy away from him, which he took as a good sign.

"Oh," she said, waking up totally when he sat down and looked at her.

"Well? Have you given the matter much thought?"

"What? Oh, yes," she said, momentarily distracted by his hand. It was almost touching her foot.

"And?"

"And... " she sighed, already regretting her decision. "And yes, I would like more than friendship from you. But that doesn't mean we should act on those feelings." She refused to meet his eyes.

"So you want me to just sit back and pretend that I don't care?" he asked angrily.

"What other choice have we got?" she asked desperately. "As much as I'd like to believe it, you know I don't for a moment think that you'd actually let anyone know you harbored feelings for me."

"Well, what do you suggest, then?" he asked, feeling hopeless. She leaned forward and placed her hand gently on top of his. He lifted his eyes slowly to hers.

"We still have tonight," she said softly. "We could be friends until we go back." But what if we get back and I can't let you go? He wondered.

"You have a point." He covered her hand with his other hand, and tugged gently. She scooted forward, and he leaned in for a kiss. She didn't fight him; instead she was soft and pliant and everything he'd ever wanted. When she opened her mouth to him, his head became foggy. He raised his hands hesitantly to cup her cheeks, brushing his thumbs lightly against her satiny skin. She raised her hands and tangled her fingers in his hair; something she'd been wanting to do all afternoon. When her thumbs brushed the nape of his neck, he moaned softly. He pushed her backwards, forcing her onto her back. She loved the feeling of his body pressed against hers like this. She'd never been this close to a boy before, with the exception of the contact she'd had earlier with him.

He lowered his mouth to her neck, planting feverish kisses anywhere that her creamy flesh was exposed. He knew he was quickly nearing the point of no return, but he didn't care. After all, when would he ever have a chance to be this close to her again? Had she been right about him? Was he the coward she took him for, unable to stand up to his so-called friends and fight for what he wanted, for once in his ruddy life? The thought stopped him cold, and she opened her eyes to gaze curiously at him.

"Is everything alright?" she asked breathlessly. He licked his lips nervously, and nodded.

"Everything's fine," he lied. It couldn't be further from fine. I want you, but not like this. Not like two strangers who only come together because of desolation, and under cover of darkness so that no one will ever know they've met to begin with. He laid down beside her and gently flipped her so he was cradling her, with her back against his front. He propped his head up on his elbow and began stroking her arm lightly with his fingers.

Hermione was confused. She'd enjoyed the snogging, but it made entirely more sense to her than what he was presently doing. It just wasn't in his character to be this tender, was it? Suddenly she was frightened. She knew how to deal with a lustful Draco, and she knew how to deal with a bigoted Draco. She wasn't so sure she knew how to deal with a sensitive Draco. There was something about the way he held her that was so...intimate; it was almost loving.

"Tell me something," he said, his breath warm against her ear. He kissed her ear, and tiny shivers traveled up her spine.

"Like what?" she murmured, snuggling closer to him.

"Anything. What's your favorite color?" She blushed, and was thankful that he couldn't see it.

"Actually, it's green." He chuckled. "What's yours?"

"If you swear not to tell anyone else, I'll tell you."

"How much will you pay me?" she teased. She let out a giggle when he poked her side. "Alright, I promise, I won't tell."

"It's red." She shook with silent laughter, and he grinned into the back of her sweetly scented hair.

"Your turn. Tell me something."

"Is this turning into a game of truth or dare?" he asked, his voice thick with amusement.

"No," she said. "More like twenty questions." He surprised her by reaching for the hand she was resting on her hip and lacing his fingers through hers. His hands were smooth and broad, and the contact seemed even more intimate than the kisses they'd just shared.

"I've never been in love."

"Me neither." Her voice was barely audible, but he heard it as though it had been spoken through a bullhorn.

"I'm the extremely jealous type." She sniggered at this.

"I couldn't tell," she teased. He laughed.

"What type are you?"

"I don't know," she admitted, holding their intertwined hands up to look at them. "I've never had a boyfriend, so I wouldn't know if I'm the jealous type, or any other type, for that matter."

"Will you regret this in the morning?" he asked softly.

"Will you?"

"Don't answer a question with a question, Granger," he said, chuckling. She smiled.

"No, I won't." His heart nearly stopped inside his chest, and he squeezed her hand gently.

"Neither will I."

"Are you going to be an arrogant bastard when we get back?"

"Probably." She laughed, and he brushed his thumb lightly over her knuckles. "Have you ever known me to be any other way?" He nuzzled her neck lightly, causing her breathing to become irregular.

"Not before this week, no," she admitted, closing her eyes. "Have you decided who you're taking to the Halloween party on Wednesday?"

"You mean, if we survive our current situation?" He felt her nod. "I don't know. I thought about taking Parkinson." I'd rather go with you, though. "What about you? Any promising prospects?"

"Sadly, no," she said, giving him a hollow laugh. "If I do wind up going, it'd probably be with Ron or Harry, because they ask me out of sympathy." Draco thought back to Harry's kiss and highly doubted that his offer of a date would be out of sympathy. He gritted his teeth involuntarily at the thought of Potter even looking at her again after tonight.

"You ought to go," he said, an idea springing into his mind. "I'd like to see you all dressed up." She felt her heart leap into her throat.

"Why do things have to be so complicated?" she whispered.

"I don't know."

"When did right and wrong become so blurry?"

"I don't know," he said, understanding completely. She was silent after that, and he listened until her breathing became regular, indicating that she'd fallen asleep. He pulled her closer and waved his wand, muttering "Nox." The light in the room was extinguished, and he let his wand drop to the floor. All he could do was hold her and pray that the Death Eaters hadn't been vanquished yet; and if they were, that no one would come to retrieve them until morning. He drifted into the first peaceful sleep of his entire life, with his arms wrapped around all that was good and pure and innocent in the world.

**

Hermione awoke to brilliant sunlight streaming in through the bedroom window, and stretched her legs. She bit her lip to keep from laughing when Draco, stirred by her motion, slung an arm over her stomach and mumbled something incoherent.

"Draco," she whispered. He didn't budge. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder and gave him a quick shake. "Draco?"

"Don't go," he mumbled into the pillow. She was startled until she realized that he must be dreaming. She rolled onto her side and watched him. He really was handsome, and he looked content in his sleep. "Don't go."

"I won't," she whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from his chiseled face.

"Mmmkay," he mumbled, frowning in his sleep. She had gotten out of bed and was gathering her things for a shower when he mumbled again. "...need you," he muttered. She blinked. Should I wake him up? What if he's having a nightmare? Hermione, listen to yourself! He looks happier than you've ever seen him, how can it be a nightmare?

"Merlin," she swore softly, reaching for her hairbrush.

"... love you," he mumbled. She froze and turned surprised eyes to him. What was he talking about? She swallowed hard, then shook him roughly.

"Draco! Wake up!" He stirred, then opened his eyes. She suddenly realized how stuffy the room had gotten. She was paralyzed under his resplendent eyes, and felt another tremor of shock when he smiled sleepily at her. What I wouldn't give to wake up to that every morning.

"Morning," he said, sitting up slowly. He raised his arms above his head and stretched lazily, and she turned her back to him to hide her grin. "Is my Mother back?"

"I don't know. I don't think so," she said uncertainly. She and Draco both started when they heard a loud crack from downstairs, signaling the apparition of someone. They exchanged quick glances before running downstairs at breakneck speed. When they got into the kitchen, Narcissa was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee. They stared at her.

"You're back," he said, trying to mask his disappointment. She smiled brightly.

"Yes, and with good news, too. You'll both be going back to Hogwarts today." Hermione's eyes lit up, despite the sadness that was gripping her heart. It's all so unfair. Now that we're getting close and burying the bad feelings, it's time to go back to being enemies.

"The Death Eaters have been conquered?" Narcissa heard the faltering note in her voice and took another sip of coffee to hide her knowing smile.

"Yes, most of them. A significant number of them, anyway."

"And what about father?" Draco asked hesitantly.

"Dead." He pushed out his bottom lip and exhaled slowly. The nightmare is really over. He looked at Hermione, whose eyes reflected the pain he was feeling. Or maybe it's just beginning.

"Wow," Hermione breathed. She refused to meet Draco's eyes. It would be so much easier if they could just start fighting again immediately, but somehow she just didn't have the heart to anymore. She didn't hate him at all; she knew that for sure. But what did she feel towards him now? Her heart fluttered crazily in her chest at the thought of her sleeping in his arms. He'd shown her a side of him that she was sure no one else had ever been privy to. He'd simply held her, not asking for anything more.

Narcissa noticed the tortured looks her son was giving Hermione, and struggled to remain quiet. She knew that something had happened last night in her absence; she'd been counting on it before she'd gone. She knew her son, and knew that once he decided what he wanted, nothing short of death would prevent him from getting it. The only problem was, how was she going to make him realize that Hermione was what he wanted?

"I expect you'll both be wanting to pack," Narcissa said, replacing her coffee mug on the table. She smiled up at them. "How about one more breakfast here together before we go?"

"Sure," Draco said, tugging his eyes away from Hermione. "I'll pack after we eat, then."

"I'm going to go take a quick shower, if no one minds." Hermione bolted from the room, and Draco sat down quietly at the table.

"So, were you both alright last night? I was worried about you two here alone, knowing how badly you fight." He arched an eyebrow at her.

"We were fine, Mother."

"No horrific rows to tell me about?"

"None whatsoever." She wanted to know more, but he was obviously going to remain tight-lipped about the previous night's events. She rose and began preparing breakfast, at a loss for words. She knew he was hurting; she recognized the look on his face. She just didn't have a salve for his wounds - that was something he was going to have to take care of himself.

"So," she said, sitting a plate in front of him. "Are you excited about going back? You have that big Halloween party, don't you?"

"Yeah," he said, poking his eggs with his fork. Hermione walked in and sat down next to him, which surprised him a little. He wasn't going to complain, though. This was probably the last time she'd ever be this close to him, and he wanted to memorize everything about her - her soft floral scent, the warmth of her knee against his. He closed his eyes and took in a ragged breath.

"How about you, Hermione? Looking forward to the Halloween party?"

"I suppose, although I'm not much of a party girl," she said, shrugging.

"Any dates for either of you?"

"I'll probably take Parkinson," he voiced dully. If Hermione heard the ache in his voice or felt one of her own, she didn't show it.

"Hermione?"

"If I don't go alone, I'll probably go with Ron or Harry." She felt him stiffen beside her at the mention of Harry's name. Why does that agitate him so? He knows I have no romantic feelings for either of them.

"Yes, Merlin forbid that you ever do anything without your Precious Potter around," he said angrily, feeling his old persona come flooding back with a vengeance. How could he ever have thought that she'd genuinely have feelings for him? She was the first girl he'd ever really been intimate with, without sleeping with her, and she didn't seem to care. He was hurt, and he wanted to hurt her back. She needs to feel as awful as I feel.

"W-what?" She stuttered, her eyes widening in surprise. Narcissa was also surprised; she knew that Draco cared for Hermione, and couldn't understand why he was suddenly nasty to her.

"Everyone knows that you can't even breathe without Potter around," he said, not looking at her. Unshed tears stung her eyes.

"Draco," she begged. His heart crumbled at the way she said his name, but there was nothing to be done now. It was better this way - wasn't it? "Draco, please! This is the last time we're going to be together, and-"

"Thank Merlin," he said, trying to sound grateful. Her mouth dropped open. "What a relief it will be to get back to Hogwarts and away from you." He bit his bottom lip as he felt her rise from her seat beside him.

"So it's back to this, is it?" Her voice was steadily growing louder, and he wondered what she was going to do. Kill me now, he prayed. Kill me now, so I won't have to see that tortured look on your face, or remember how I held you. Kill me now, so I won't think about how I almost had everything I've ever wanted.

"Are you surprised?" he drawled softly.

"I shouldn't be," she spat angrily. "I should have known you were just taking advantage of me. Thank God that this all ended before I -" she stopped, and his curiosity got the better of him. He looked up. Silent tears were streaming down her cheeks, staining her porcelain skin. He wanted nothing more than to reach up and brush them away, and tell her that everything would be fine, but he just couldn't. She turned her eyes away from him and left the room. His mother was still gaping at him.

"What in the bloody hell was that?" she asked. His eyes widened in surprise. He'd never heard his mother curse; not once in his entire life.

"That was Granger, stomping out of the room, and hating me like she always has," he answered coolly, taking a drink of his juice. His nerves were raw and on edge now; how the hell was he supposed to go back to school feeling like this? She'd left him utterly defenseless.

"Draco, I'm not stupid. I've seen the looks you've been giving her, and I know that there's something there, whether you're willing to admit it or not. I've seen the looks she's been giving you, and I know she doesn't hate you- that couldn't be further from the truth. Why are you pushing her away like this?"

"I wouldn't expect you to understand," he said icily. "I'll be in my room, packing." He stood and left the kitchen, heading up the stairs. When he passed Hermione's door, he paused. He could hear her sobs over the music she was playing.

The rest of the day passed in a blur for Draco. He'd just finished packing when his mother had come into the room and given him instructions not to tell anyone at school where he'd stayed, or who the Secret Keeper had been. If he was asked, he was to tell everyone that he'd been on a holiday with his mother. He vaguely wondered what Hermione was being told to say, then forced himself to concentrate on other things. If he was going to survive this ordeal, he had to be his old self again - hard and cold, and totally apathetic about Granger.

He'd been given another portkey, which had taken him back to his dormitory. He sat down heavily on his bed, cradling his face in his hands. The door burst open, and he found himself staring into Pansy's eyes.

"Oh, Draco! Thank Merlin, I missed you so much!" She threw herself on him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He pushed her away roughly and stood. She gave him a strange look. "Is everything alright?"

"Don't be stupid, Parkinson. Just because I've been gone for a week doesn't mean I want you hanging all over me like a cheap robe." She blinked, then smiled. He sounded perfectly normal.

"Well, guess what happened while you were gone?" She launched into some pointless speech, trying to fill him in on all of the gossip. He tuned her out until she said something that grabbed his attention.

"What was that last thing you just said?"

"About Millicent and Blaise?" she asked, looking confused. He shook his head angrily.

"Not that, what you said after that."

"Oh! You mean about Daphne Greengrass? Isn't it disgusting? She's been dating that Weasley boy from Gryffindor!"

"Why would she do that?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Well, you know her father was a Death Eater, and as soon as they were captured, she went round the twist! She's been talking to Potter, too. Seems as though she believes that the whole pureblood nonsense - that's what she calls it - is over with now. Can you believe it? She's trying to get the rest of us to believe that it's okay to mix with those filthy Mudbloods!" Draco bit his lip to keep from lashing out at her.

"Is anyone else doing this?" he asked curiously.

"You wouldn't believe how many," she said, shaking her head and wrinkling her nose in disgust. Nott even said that he was going to ask Hermione Granger to the Halloween dance tomorrow night!" Draco's face paled.

"Why would he do that?"

"He told Millicent that he'd always thought she was pretty, but I overheard him telling Blaise that she'd be an easy lay." She sniggered, and Draco clenched his fists inside his robe. "So, who are you going with?" she asked suggestively. He lifted his eyes to her, and recognized the look she was giving him. He sighed resignedly.

"Actually, I was going to ask you," he started. She squealed, and he held up a hand to silence her. "But I've changed my mind. I don't think I'm going to go now." Her face fell.

"But why not?" she asked, poking out her bottom lip in the pout that he'd always loathed.

"Because I'm not," he said with finality. She looked like she might be on the verge of tears, but she didn't make a sound. She stood and went to his door, pausing to look at him one more time. When he didn't try to stop her, she left.

**

Hermione had been hiding away in her bed all afternoon. As soon as she'd gotten back to her dormitory, she'd crawled into bed and drawn the curtains. She lay there crying silently, and berating herself for ever being stupid enough to open herself to him like that. She knew he was a stupid Slytherin, why did she let her defenses down? She had just launched into another silent tirade when she heard someone coughing.

"Hermione? Are you in there?" She sat up and pushed a curtain aside, and smiled at Ginny.

"Yes, I'm here," she said. She winced. Her throat was raw from all the crying she'd done. Ginny looked startled.

"Great Merlin, Hermione," she whispered, stepping closer. "You look plain awful!"

"Gee, thanks, Ginny," she said wryly, standing up. Ginny flushed pink.

"I didn't mean-"

"I know you didn't," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm just a little on edge, is all."

"Are you ready for dinner?"

"Sure," she said, running her fingers through her hair in an effort to smooth it down. Ginny was rocking on the balls of her feet, and Hermione stopped her motions when she noticed it. She arched an eyebrow. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

"Yes! Harry asked me to the dance!" She spun around, giggling. Hermione smiled.

"That's great, Gin!" She followed a very bouncy Ginny down to the Great Hall, avoiding looking anywhere but at the floor as they went. She didn't want to see him by accident - she didn't ever want to see him again, as long as she lived. It was too embarrassing. They sat down and began eating, ignoring the buzz that was going through the room.

Hermione stared blankly at her plate, pushing the food around with her fork. She only looked up when Ginny elbowed her in the side.

"Ginny, what-" Ginny shushed her and pointed towards the Hufflepuff table. Hermione watched in utter disbelief as Wayne Hopkins approached the Slytherin table and said something to Tracey Davis. The girl smiled bashfully and nodded, despite the glare she was getting from her friend, Pansy Parkinson. Hermione turned surprised eyes to Ginny.

"Isn't it amazing?" Ginny whispered.

"What is going on?" Hermione asked slowly. Ginny shrugged.

"After Dumbledore announced that most of the Death Eaters had been caught, the whole school kind of went crazy. Some of the Slytherins have been asking people from other houses to the dance! And can you believe that some of them are even trying to be our friends now?" Ginny grinned broadly as Harry and Ron sat down across from them. Ron shot Hermione a furtive glance, and Harry blushed at Ginny's beaming smile.

"How was your holiday, Mione?" Ron asked. Hermione blinked, trying to figure out what he was talking about, then smiled quickly.

"It was nice, thanks," she said softly. She looked up and saw Harry giving her an odd look, then she stared back down at her plate. She didn't see Harry turn around and look at the Slytherin table. She felt as though she was in a dream; none of the last week could have happened, could it? And the Slytherins weren't really branching out, were they?

"You don't look so good, Hermione." She looked up when she heard the concern in Harry's voice. "Do you want to lie down?"

"Yes, I think that's a good idea." She stood, and was surprised when Harry stood, too. She gave him a questioning look.

"I'm just going to walk you back," he said quickly. "To make sure you get there okay." She knew he wanted to talk, and she was in no mood for it. She knew Harry though, and she knew he wouldn't be dissuaded. She smiled feebly and followed him out of the Great Hall, unaware of the eyes that followed her.

**

Draco watched with growing disbelief as the Hufflepuff boy approached Tracey Davis. To add to his surprise, she accepted his invitation to the dance! He turned to Crabbe and Goyle, who were sculpting perverted images with their mashed potatoes.

"What in the bloody hell is going on?" he asked. They both looked up, confused.

"Well, this is what Millicent's-" Draco held his hand up and closed his eyes.

"Spare me," he said dryly. "I meant, what's going on with our house? Has everyone gone mad?"

"Actually, I think it's pretty cool," Goyle said, his cheeks turning pink. Draco's eyes widened.

"You do," he said flatly. Goyle nodded uncomfortably, and Crabbe sniggered.

"That's just because he's finally found a date," Crabbe said. Goyle elbowed him in the ribs, and Draco arched an eyebrow.

"And who would that be?"

"Luna Lovegood," Goyle choked out, glancing at the Ravenclaw table. She stood and waved fearlessly, and he grinned before ducking his head. Draco's mouth dropped open, and a surprised smile made its way across his face before he could stop it.

"I'll be damned," he said, laughing. Several students turned in surprise - Draco Malfoy was laughing? The whispers traveled quickly around the tables. He ignored the growing sound and turned hesitant eyes to the Gryffindor table, where his silver eyes met with a pair of emerald eyes. Surprisingly, there was no malice in Potter's eyes, just questions. Draco looked around Potter to see Granger staring down at the table, unmoving. Guilt tugged at his heart as he watched her stand to leave. Potter said something, then stood and led her out of the Great Hall.

He turned his head when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and watched with growing irritation as Theodore Nott stood from his seat. He moved towards the door to the Great Hall, but as he reached Draco, he stood and stepped into his path. Nott looked at him in surprise, and Draco folded his arms over his chest.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" he drawled lazily. Nott grinned.

"I'm going to go ask someone to the Halloween dance tomorrow." Draco bristled. Not if I can help it.

"And who might that be?"

"Why are you so interested?"

"I was just curious, is all."

"If you must know, I'm going to ask Granger." Draco felt his temper spike. Over my dead body. It was only when Nott's mouth dropped open that he realized he'd spoken the words aloud. "W-what?" he stuttered.

"You heard me," Draco said coldly. He turned to face the rest of the Slytherins, who had heard the exchange and were gaping at him. "And that goes for the rest of you lot as well. No one is asking Granger to the Halloween dance." With that, he turned and exited the Great Hall. Draco Malfoy had finally decided what he wanted, and come hell or high water, nothing was going to stop him from getting it.