Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Victim of the Fall	By : PrettyDesdemona Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 32726 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any of its characters. I do not make any money off this story. Only love!

Chapter List
- 23
- 24
- 25
CHAPTER 24

ASKING TOO MUCH

"Just lay yourself down on the line and I might lay myself down by you but don't sit behind your eyes and wait for me to surprise you."

Hermione and Draco shared a bed that night, deciding that by the time they'd finished talking it was far too late for him to go back to Hogwarts. Hermione thought privately that he'd previously left her flat at far later hours than that but, for her own reasons, kept her mouth shut.

She was happy to have Draco staying with her. It was a refreshing change from feeling the usual disappointment when he had to leave on prior occasions. Unfortunately though, despite her pleasure at his presence, she had a rather restless night when they finally retired to her bed. She'd gotten so used to having her queen four poster to herself that it felt jarring each and every time she rolled over and found him there, peaceful in sleep, or when she'd wake up, thinking herself to be alone before she heard his soft breathing.

At times, throughout the night, she felt jealous of him. Why could he sleep so easily beside her and yet she was up and down all night? She dozed in half hour segments and yet he slept on and on without interruption.

Just like when they'd taken the Goddess's Poison, the two of them slept in their clothes, not even beginning any awkward conversations about other arrangements regarding their attire. To her gratitude as well as her consternation, he had not attempted to touch her during the night, had not snuggled up to her back as Ron used to. She liked that. It felt more companionable to sleep side by side but independent of each other. It suited their relationship. The only time he had come near her at all was when she'd woken up early in the morning, the light outside the window still very dark and grey, to find his hand nestled into her hair. Whether he'd done this on purpose or had simply gotten tangled, Hermione didn't know. And she wasn't about to ask.

At around six am, she finally dropped off into a semi peaceful sleep, hoping as she did that she would remain that way all day. She was woken however only hours later by Draco.

"Hermione?" he was shaking her shoulder and she had an irrepressible feeling of déjà vu. "Hermione?"

"Fuck off." she grunted, turning away from him.

He laughed and she felt the bed sink down behind her. "You know, I was only just wondering why it is that I like you as much as I do, but thanks for reminding me." he took a moment to reflect on this before Hermione heard the clink of a cup hitting wood. "I made tea."

Hermione rolled over to stare at him, bleary eyed. He was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking down at her, his hands folded in his lap. The sun was spilling into the room through the cracks in her curtains. He looked peaceful, content, and comfortable.

"You made me tea?" she rasped sleepily.

He nodded, looking a tad pleased with himself, "I did."

She caught a glimpse of the cup sitting on the nightstand and drew her blankets up over her head with a groan as something sunk into place inside her head. "Oh no... Oh fuck..."

"What? What's wrong?" he asked, clearly bemused by her behaviour.

"This is... This is actually happening isn't it?" she said from underneath her doona.

"What on earth are you talking about?" his voice was muffled.

She slowly lowered the blanket and looked at him, her eyes wide. "We're... in a... relationship." she whispered the last word as if it were a particularly nasty expletive.

"Well, I was under the impression that you hadn't actually given an answer to that particular question yet, so..." he trailed off, leaving the unspoken query hanging in the air between them. Hermione wanted to crawl under the covers again and stay there forever.

When she made no attempt to answer him, he said, in a voice so quiet she almost thought she'd misheard him, "I'd like it if we were."

Hermione screwed up her face in frustration, knowing that there was no way she could avoid this conversation, try as she might. "I know. But Draco, this is all wrong. You're lonely, and I get it. I am too, really. But we can't do it like this." She ran her hands through her hair, realising that she didn't entirely believe what she was saying. She couldn't pin point her exact reasons for not wanting to take that step with him just yet, couldn't decide why she couldn't just say yes. Perhaps there was still a lingering loyalty to Ron or Harry? She'd promised herself the night before that she'd talk to Isobel before she gave Draco an answer, but she realised then that the answer would be just as hard to give even then.

"You'd rather I was calling you a mudblood? Would you rather be cursing me? Hermione, I think this is as good as it's going to get." he said, smiling slightly.

"What a repulsive idea!" she scoffed.

He shrugged, "I know. But it doesn't stop it appealing to me. I'm not going to beg you, and I'd rather you didn't make me. Just tell me if this is something you might want."

She realised he was right. Hermione was so wrapped up in waiting for it to be perfect that she was missing the forest for the trees. He was there with her, she liked that he was there. She wanted him around; she liked him as a human being. Sure, it was all based in ruin; they were both messed up people, people who had an innumerable amount of issues to deal with. But did that really matter in the end? Wasn't it just enough that he made her happy? Wasn't it just enough that his smile was her favourite kind of smile, that he held her hand when she was upset, that he made her the perfect kind of tea?

"It's not as easy as that." said Hermione, to herself as well as to him. She laughed humourlessly.

"Yes it is. Just say yes or no."

Hermione looked at him squarely and narrowed her eyes. "Tell me, when you started thinking about doing this after the day when you entered my mind, was it as easy as that? Were you able to just decide suddenly, that this is something you wanted?" he frowned and looked away from her. "Of course it wasn't! You would have agonised over it too, Draco! So you can't just ask me to say yes or no. Offer me the same courtesy you offered yourself."

He stared at her in silence for a moment, brow furrowed. "Fine. I will."

He made to stand up but Hermione put out her hand, feeling almost instantly guilty that she'd upset him. "Look. Cards on the table. Yes it is something I want, but that's quite frightening. I'm sure you can understand that! I want to say yes... But... Well, I'd like to talk to Isobel before we... Get too ahead of ourselves. Ok?"

He nodded, looking reassured. Hermione felt relieved, overjoyed and alarmed, she hadn't told him yes, but she may as well have.

After a moment, he stood. "Alright, well... I'm going to go."

"What? Why?" she asked, realising that it sounded like she was pouting.

He laughed, "Because if I stay and have to look at you lying in bed like that with your hair all mussed like that, I might just... uh... get too ahead of myself."

Hermione giggled in spite of herself. He bent down, pressed a kiss to her forehead and said, "I'll see you tomorrow in Defence Against the Dark Arts." he walked towards her bedroom door, saying over his shoulder, "And for the love of god, don't over analyse, alright?"

She laughed and threw a pillow at him, "Alright! Get out."

He grinned at her and swept out of the room. Hermione collapsed back down onto her bed, grinning as she heard her front door close behind him. She felt unequivocally, that what she needed in that moment was a nice, hard slap across the face.

The rest of the day, Hermione walked moonily about her flat, picking things up and putting them down again and staring off into space smiling. Strangely, Draco's words had calmed her frayed mind. She wasn't overcome with guilt as she had been, but instead felt as if she had faith in the workings of the universe. She felt that everything would be alright in the end.

Draco had told her not to over analyse and it felt nice to just be able to give into that.

With the guilt gone, she was perfectly at liberty to behave like a dewy eyed schoolgirl. And this is exactly what she did, with relish. Hermione found herself giggling intermittently when she remembered something in particular that Draco had said that had made her laugh, she kept getting anticipatory little swooping sensations in her stomach every time she thought of their heated embrace on the couch.

Sufficed to say, her day wasn't the most productive.

By dinnertime her mood was on such a high that receiving a letter from Isobel saying that she couldn't come by that night didn't even begin to darken it. Of course, the guilt was there, waiting in the back of her mind to rear its ugly head; she was daunted by the idea of talking to her friend but she was apart from it. She was happy that she was able to have the whole day just to herself to spend daydreaming and smiling serenely.

Thus, at eight o'clock when there was a knock on her front door, Hermione was confused. She knew that it couldn't be Isobel, as the other girl had already cancelled; and Hermione knew Draco well enough by then to know that he'd be giving her space and wouldn't come by again for a little while.

When she opened the door, her good mood vanished like water down a drain. It almost literally sunk out of her in one exhaled breath.

"Hello Hermione." his voice was sad, dejected. He looked sick.

"Hello Harry."

"Can I come in?"

Hermione stepped aside instantly to allow him to pass. There was no way that she could possibly describe her emotions at that moment. She was shocked and confused, a monumental fall from the happiness she'd felt all day. She felt winded.

He entered her lounge room and slumped down onto her couch.

"Would... would you like a cup of tea?" she asked, her voice unnaturally high.

He nodded and she went into the kitchen. Her hands were shaking almost uncontrollably as she fixed their drinks, almost upending the sugar bowl into her own cup because of this. Hermione dawdled over adding the water and milk to the cups in front of her. She didn't want to leave the kitchen, didn't want to face Harry again. She weighed up the pros and cons of escaping through her kitchen window before a voice in the back of her mind told her she was better than that.

When she returned to the lounge room, she sat down on the floor opposite him, their tea sitting on the coffee table that separated them.

He sat, his elbows resting on his knees and looked up at her, smiling sadly. "Hi Hermione."

The sight of him almost broke her heart. The pain in his voice undid her. "Hey Harry."

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I... Yes. I'm fine." she stuttered, shocked that he'd even asked. It was such a change from the way he'd been when she'd last seen him. "Are you?"

"I don't know... How's Ginny?" his voice was husky, as if he hadn't spoken in a long time.

Hermione frowned in confusion at the question. Hadn't he just seen Ginny? She'd gone back to the Burrow for Christmas and he lived there, didn't he? "She's ok, I think... I haven't seen her in a while. Holidays." said Hermione offhandedly.

"You didn't go with her?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head, more confused than ever. "No, Harry, I didn't go to the Burrow."

"Oh." he lifted his mug to his lips and drank, staring around the room with an air of distracted interest.

"Where were you for Christmas?" she asked, deciding that she may as well just bite the bullet and be up front.

"Godric's Hollow." he replied hollowly.

"Oh, Harry." Hermione's voice broke as her hand flew up to her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes. Her best friend had spent Christmas alone, probably staring down at his parent's graves. He leant forward, resting his head in his hands. "Harry, why didn't you come here?"

"I didn't think you'd want to see me after the way I was last time..." he said shakily, his voice thick.

She lifted herself off the floor and went to sit beside him, the tears flowing freely down her face. She wanted to pretend that she hadn't known how bad Harry's life must be, but she'd have been lying to herself. She knew even before she left the Burrow. And she'd ignored it.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his shaking shoulders.

"Harry, you can always come to me. I know we don't talk much and I haven't really been there for you lately, but I'll always be your best friend. I'll always be here if you need me."

He looked up at her and Hermione could finally see in his eyes just how tortured he was. "After everything I did?"

"Always." she reiterated softly.

His head collapsed sideways onto her shoulder and Hermione ran soothing circles on his back, hugging him tighter.

"Can I stay with you a while?"

Hermione ignored the faint uneasiness that rose up in the back of her mind and said, "Of course you can."

She remembered the promise she'd made herself all those months ago. She'd be there for her best friend this time. No matter what.

The next morning, Hermione woke at eight am after another restless night's sleep. She'd been overcome with worry about Harry and had been up most of the night trying to think about what was the best thing to do for him.

He'd come to her after all, hadn't he? He was Harry Potter; the entire wizarding world would have happily bowed down on its knees to him if they thought he'd appreciate it. Of all the people who he could have gone to, who would have helped him, he'd chosen her. So, Hermione surmised, there must be something that only she could do, something he wanted her for.

But try as she might, she could not think of what it might be. Their conversation the previous night had been stilted and awkward, it had seemed like he didn't really want to talk and was just doing it to appease Hermione. As far as she could see, he seemed quite happy just to be in her flat, staring off into space. Perhaps he didn't need a confidant or a councillor or a shoulder to cry on. Perhaps he just needed her to be his friend, to make him laugh, to cheer him up.

And he most certainly needed cheering up.

He was worse than she'd ever seen him. Sure, on the outside he just seemed a little sad. But Hermione knew Harry. She'd been his best friend for eight years and one does not spend so much time with someone without learning to read them like a book. She could read Harry, and she was sickened and torn apart by what she saw. All her progress felt like a betrayal to his pain. How could she live with herself, how could she move day to day while her best friend's mind was falling apart? No one was helping him, he was lost, and she could see it every time she looked at his face and saw his soul lying bare in his eyes. His depression was like an affliction, contagious and catastrophic. After only a night it had seeped into her space like fetid water and she'd woken up that morning torn asunder by the desire to stay and help Harry; and to get out of her flat, be as far away from him as possible, escape his sick room before it got her too.

Coincidentally, she was glad that she had school. It robbed her of the ability to choose between the two.

After she'd showered and dressed she went out to the lounge room to find him curled up, asleep on her couch. Even in sleep he looked pained, like his body was aching. She scribbled a quick note, telling him to make himself at home, help himself to anything in the pantry and that she'd be home that afternoon and they could have dinner together.

With that done, she bundled herself into her cloak and scarf to ward against the crisp, cold January morning. She left her flat, waving hello to Graham as she walked out of Flourish and Blotts and hurried, hunched against the wind, up the street to the Leaky Cauldron.

She apparated to Hogwarts and made it into the great hall just in time to grab a piece of toast and a swig of pumpkin juice before classes started. She was unsurprised to see she'd missed eating with her fellow tovarasi, who would inevitably be milling about outside Teodora's classroom, catching up after the holidays.

Hermione made her way through the castle, wondering how she was going to get through the day without talking about her house guest. She was still overwhelmed with worry and fear for her friend but she was determined not to let it show. It was hanging over her like a great, black cloud, and it felt wrong that no one else could see it.

She reached the classroom just as Teodora was opening the door to the group of students scattered casually around the corridor outside. There was a general outcry of greeting from her comrades and Hermione was pulled into many warm hugs before she was allowed to enter the classroom.

Immediately, the tovarasi and Teodora drew up pillows and poufs and draped themselves comfortably over the classroom floor. The room was abuzz with amicable and excited chatter.

When Hermione joined them, sitting between Ginny and Isobel, she caught Draco's suspicious eye and knew he was looking for signs that she had done what he'd warned against and over analysed. Of course, he would be the only one who noticed the black cloud but Hermione knew, even before it had happened, that he would misinterpret it. She turned away from him quickly, not keen to meet his gaze, knowing that she couldn't change his analysis of her behaviour unless she told him the truth. And that wasn't going to happen.

Hermione occupied herself instead with looking around at the rest of the tovarasi, noting that there was a general feeling of happiness covering what she could see was sadness and exhaustion. She knew then that she was not the only one who had wished to sleep through Christmas. It was a time, for everyone, to notice who was missing, who should have been there if not for Voldemort.

Teodora beamed around at them beatifically, "So you have all had pleasant holidays?"

The class shrugged and shifted uncomfortably.

"Of course," she continued knowingly, "This time is sad. I can see you all are sad. Do not feel guilty for this; it's natural to miss those we have lost. We will talk about this today. I would like for you all to tell us a happy way in which you remember your friends and loved ones who are no longer here."

And with that, she had each member of the group talk about their dead friends and relatives and by the end of the class, Hermione felt thoroughly wrung out and depressed. She was happy to see that the exercise had helped her fellows somewhat but it had done nothing to raise her spirits and she was grateful to leave.

When it had fallen to her turn to speak, she'd spoken about Remus and Tonks and Fred and her parents of course... But really she wanted to say she missed herself. Missed who she used to be.

She mourned for her lost pride, motivation, determination, her lost bravery. Her world was greyer than it had been. The sky was grey, the streets were grey and her skin was grey. She couldn't feel at peace in this monochrome, constantly alone, robbed of anyone who might heal that loneliness.

She'd though she'd had Draco. For twenty four beautiful hours, she'd deluded herself in that fantasy, then Harry and reality had shown up just to remind her that she still had so much suffering to do.

Harry.

Hermione almost fell over her feet while exiting the classroom, surrounded by her sombrely cheerful tovarasi, at the thought of her friend back at her flat, just as alone as she was. She should have stayed with him. He needed someone to be there for him.

Why was she constantly running? What was it about Harry's pain that made her cower in fear? It was despicable. After all the promises she'd made herself, that she'd be there for him no matter what, and here she was, still fucking running.

Just as a voice asked in the back of her mind what exactly she thought she could do about it right then, she knew. She could go home. What were grades when Harry was in danger? That's what it had been like when they'd been at school together, what changed it now?

Instead of turning off towards Charms class with her friends, Hermione veered off to the left to head down a corridor that would lead her to the front doors of the castle. When the inquiries about her intentions wafted after her, she waved her tovarasi down with a wan smile, stating that she wasn't feeling well and was going home. Isobel offered to come but Hermione declined.

She broke free of them and set off at a brisk pace through the now empty corridors. She was better off leaving anyway, she was too disconnected and they deserved better of her. She'd only been amongst them two minutes ago and already she couldn't remember what any of them had said. Because she hadn't been listening. Her mind was back at home with Harry.

Hermione was just passing the library when she heard heavy footsteps approaching her from behind. She turned her head to see who was running after her, wishing that it wasn't who she suspected.

Draco.

Without saying a word, he grasped her upper arm and pulled her into their alcove, casting a silencing charm on the back of the tapestry cum doorway.

"You fucking over analysed it didn't you?!" he demanded, without waiting for her to speak.

Hermione didn't respond. She couldn't. She wanted desperately to tell him why she was being the way she was but knew that his reaction would be formidable. Only he knew what Harry had done and said on his last impromptu visit, only he had understood how scared she'd been. After everything they'd said and done together, he wouldn't let it lie, wouldn't leave it be.

"I can't believe I even tried! You're impossible, you know that, Granger?" he raged, his hands balled into white fists. "Why do you do this?! Why can't you just let it be?!"

Again she said nothing, simply looked up at him wide, blank eyes. She didn't trust the words that would come pouring out of her mouth should she even try to speak.

He threw his hands up in the air and laughed cruelly, "You know what? I don't know how Weasley did it but he must be a fucking saint. See you round, Granger."

And with that, he swept aside the tapestry and strode off back down the corridor.

Hermione stared at the space he'd just vacated. She'd deserved that. How must it look to him? She couldn't even say anything to sooth him, couldn't reassure him. She'd have come off as a cold hearted whore, which, really, wasn't far from the truth as far as she was concerned. What made it all the worse was how upset he seemed to be. She knew by his anger that she'd really hurt him.

A tiny, pathetic little sob scraped up her throat as the tears began to drip down her cheeks like a tap that just wouldn't turn off no matter how hard she turned the handle. Her back hit the stone wall behind her as she sunk down to the floor and buried her face in her arms.

She wanted to plunge her clawed hands into the floor and gauge out chunks of stone with her fingers just to give some sort of physical acknowledgment to the cries that were stopped in her throat. Her face crumpled and her mouth opened in a silent howl.

It just kept happening. No matter what she did, this awful, soul crushing grief and despair just kept on coming back again and again, over and over. Her life would fall apart, then she'd build it back up and then it would just fucking fall apart all over again. Would she die from it? Would it kill her? Or would it just keep shitting on her until she died, old and alone?

She wished desperately that it would kill her. She wanted it to swallow her and destroy her so she wouldn't have to do it anymore. There was no solution, or if there was, it wasn't for her. She didn't deserve a solution.

If she'd had a gun in her hand at that moment, she would have put it to her head and pulled the trigger. But she had no gun. What she did have, was a wand.

It was in her hand before she really thought about what she was doing.

No one survived the killing curse. No one...

But, said a sad, broken little voice in the back of her mind, what about Harry? Harry who was alone and lost and mourning back at her flat?

She thought that if she went to him and told him what she wanted to do, he'd probably go with her and do it too. They could cast it at the same time and both of them would be better off...

But she couldn't do that to him. No. This was another moment where she'd have to drag herself up off the floor and be there for her friend. He needed her. Harry needed her. This was her mantra.

With one last silent sob, Hermione pushed herself up to her feet.

She'd be there for Harry.

When she got home half an hour later, she found him still asleep on her couch.

Hermione went to the kitchen and, as quietly as she could, made him eggs and bacon and a nice hot cup of tea. He was so thin he looked as if he hadn't had a decent meal in months.

When she was done, she set the meal down on the coffee table in front of him and put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly.

"Harry? Wake up. I've made breakfast."

His eyes opened a crack and took in her presence and the food on the table. After a moment, he sat up, rubbing his face. His hair stood up on his head as usual and Hermione almost found herself smiling at the sight of it. During school, he was forever trying to smooth it down, but she'd always liked it the way it was and still did.

"Wow," he said huskily, "Thanks Hermione... Hey aren't you supposed to be at school?"

"I took the day off." she said, smiling kindly, "I thought we could hang out."

He nodded his appreciation at this and leant forward to dig into the food she'd made for him with gusto. Yes, she was right in thinking he hadn't eaten a decent meal in months. She sat down beside him, pulling the blanket he'd slept under up over her legs. In the back of her mind, she began to draw up a tally. She'd already fucked up three times today, she'd been distant with her tovarasi, had ruined anything she'd had with Draco and had run from her best friend. But this was a win. She'd made Harry food when he was hungry. So it stood at three/one to the fuck ups, but she was at the point where she'd take any small victories she could.

After a few minutes silence, Harry looked at her sideways and asked through a mouthful of bacon, "So what have you been up to the last couple of months?"

Hermione shrugged noncommittally, "School... Studying... I work in Flourish and Blotts on the weekends. Not much really." Nothing could inspire her to tell him about Draco, or their research. Harry wouldn't understand and the knowledge would probably only make him feel worse. This was counterproductive.

Harry nodded, "What's Hogwarts been like since...?" his voice broke slightly over the end of the sentence.

Hermione could sense the word 'war' in the offing and took a breath, trying to smooth over his slip, "Well... It's pretty good. I mean, people are still shaky and sometimes it's sad but... Yeah. It's fine. McGonagall's a good headmistress."

"Slughorn still there?"

Hermione laughed cynically, "Of course. Still trying to keep the Slug Club going. But no one's really interested anymore."

"Right. So who's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

She shifted uncomfortably; she'd been hoping to steer clear of mentioning the tovarasi or Teodora. There was far too much information that Harry couldn't know hidden in that subject. She would have to tread carefully. "Her name's Teodora." when Harry raised his eyebrows at her use of her teacher's first name, she went on, "She won't let us call her Professor. She says it's because we're equals. She calls all of us by our first names too."

"Sounds like I'd like her." said Harry admiringly and Hermione got the impression he was probably thinking of Umbridge or Lockhart.

"I think you probably would." she responded, knowing it was true. Harry would have gotten along amazingly with her Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"What's she like?" he asked.

"Really good." said Hermione fervently, "The classes aren't about spells or counter curses, not for the seventh years anyway; she teaches us about how to defend our minds from the pull of dark arts and bigotry. Trying to prevent another war."

"Who's in the class?"

"Only a few people... Ginny and Luna obviously, Padma Patil, Eli Jackson, Juliet DeMarco, Isobel Holub, Susan Bones, Blaise Zabini and Draco... Draco Malfoy." her voice cracked over his name. Hermione hoped that Harry hadn't noticed.

Harry almost choked on his eggs, "What?! He's not in Azkaban?!"

"No."

"Why the fuck not?" he demanded, as if it were her fault.

Hermione's whirred like a tractor motor as she pressed her shaking hands between her knees to hide her reaction to this question. With as much nonchalance as she could muster, she shrugged, "Wouldn't have a clue."

To her surprise, Harry laughed harshly, "Actually, I think I have some idea."

Hermione stiffened but said nothing.

He continued, "You know Narcissa Malfoy's in Azkaban with Lucius right?"

"No, I didn't." said Hermione, with what she hoped sounded like polite interest.

"Well yeah. She was going to get off to, because she helped me out towards the end, remember? Then someone testified against her. Told the Wizengamot that she'd watched you get tortured and did nothing. She was charged as an accomplice."

"It... It wasn't you, was it?" she asked, trying to keep the tremor from her voice.

Harry glared at her, "What do you take me for, Hermione? If it wasn't for her, I'd be dead wouldn't I? No. It was Lucius." Hermione's whole body jerked with the shock this sentence wrought on her but Harry didn't notice. "One last ditch effort to keep himself out of Azkaban, I reckon. But, you know, what didn't work for the father might have worked for the son."

Hermione felt as if she was going to vomit. Draco's father had sent his own wife to Azkaban just to save his own skin? Yet again, she felt an overwhelming sadness on Draco's behalf, on behalf of his broken family. The mother was in prison because of the father, and the father was there because of the son. She knew then that if anyone had any right to their suffering, it was Draco. No wonder he'd changed if that's the sort of values he'd been brought up by. She wondered if Narcissa knew what Lucius had done.

"Are you alright?" said Harry and Hermione noticed him looking at her in concern.

"Yes... Yes." she said quietly, "It's just... That's horrible. Poor Narcissa. But... How did you know about this?"

"They sent me a letter about a month after... after the final battle, asking if I'd come in and give a statement to add to Lucius's evidence."

"Did you do it?" asked Hermione breathlessly.

Harry shook his head. "No."

She nodded her approval of this vaguely, feeling as if her mind was crumpling in on itself. Harry looked back down at his plate and polished off the final scraps. After a few minutes wherein the room was filled with nothing but the sounds of Harry's clinking cutlery, Hermione stood abruptly.

"I'm going to have a shower."

Harry grunted to show he'd heard her and she rushed from the room, through her bedroom and into the bathroom. She twisted the shower taps on, steam immediately billowing out from behind the curtain.

Hermione leant heavily against the vanity, breathing deeply, her whole body shaking with the shock of what she'd just learnt.

How could the world be so dark? Even after the war, after all the cruelty she'd been forced to learn the human race was capable of, the magnitude of it still struck her dumb. What would become of them all? How could they rebuild their world around so much hatred, sadness and fear?

Strangely, all she could think when she looked around at her peers now, her former enemies and her fellow soldiers was:

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

A/N So. It begins. The review replies. Oh lord...

Rolling14reader - Thanks! That's a fairly high compliment! Haha, you're not overly dramatic. I've felt exactly the same way about a lot of my favourite fics!

Aranel - Haha, feel free to get vulgar! Lol, I certainly did... Oh yes, our Hermione. Constantly being fucking difficult. Hopefully Draco can knock some sense into her (metaphorically speaking of course haha).

I'm glad you liked the kiss! I got all gooey writing it! Hehe and I hope you liked the humping that has followed! And yes, it was JUST FOR YOU!!

2zen2 - Wow, thank you so so much! What a beautiful review! It's people like you that keep me writing, lovely :)

Siona_The_Green - You are absolutely welcome to pick my brain, lovely. I would be honored to help out. Go make an account on FF dot net and we can private message! I'm looking forward to it!

I haven't ever read the Mortal Instruments series! I'll have to look it up! Unfortunately, I find that reading while I'm in the middle of writing a novel is a bit distracting. So when VOTF is finished, I'll go buy them hehe.

Yes, my holiday was lovely. Very Zen! I hope yours was equally amazing!

Talented_Mrs_Lupin - Thanks! I hope you're liking where it's heading :D

ConjurerOfCheapTricks - Thanks for the love, as always!

Kain - Oh, how I love you, but I've been missing your super long reviews! I saw on FF dot net you promise me one so I will sit in patience and wait hehe. I know exactly what you mean about the other dramione fics taking it too quickly. It's so unrealistic, isn't it? All of their interaction is based loosely around my own experiences which I think helps keep it real.

Lol, yes it was an orgasm.

Also, just to let you know, your sign off line was THE FUCKING BEST thing anyone has ever said to me. I even facebooked it haha.

Lisha - Thanks and I hope you like these new chapters!

DistinctlyMe - Yours was another of the three reviews I just had to share with people. Amazing. Lovely. I actually cried. Thank you so much.

Deathraven - I love your enthusiastic reviews! Yours are the ones I re-read when I feel a little blocked and disheartened. You're like one of my muses!

MorningSnow - A promise is a promise lovely, you've been so supportive of me, it's only fair that I give something back :) I'll be spending tomorrow reading and reviewing and if you've got stories online, you're at the top of my list!

SailorSol - Yet again, you've hit the nail on the head. Personal experience has been had regarding chapters 18 and 19.

Cat - Lol, it did end up looking a little bit like tiedye didn't it? What can I say? You inspired me :D I'm glad you liked the kiss. I got all gooey when writing it haha.

Carly - Oh, thank you lovely. Thanks for the love. I feel it. xx

MrsMalfoy - Yay! Updates will be regular from now on!

Ideetz - Hehe, I hope you like where it's going!

Jocat - Lol! Oh yes, the Tim Tams. I craved them after writing that.

aisha - Aw! Thank you so much beautiful! What a lovely review. Hope you like where it's gone!

Andriela - I had a pretty intense emotional reaction to your review, I have to say. I was having a really hard day when I checked my emails and there it was to lift me up! It was lovely. Thank you. Really.

Dramine - Yours was another review I just had to share with the people in my life! It really touched me that you're finding even a little bit of healing with Hermione. I've been writing this story with a lot of personal experiences in mind so it means so much that you're feeling the lessons I've learnt. xx

Melusine - Ah! Your review made me smile like a maniac! Thank you so so so much! I hope the wait for the new chapters wasn't too long.

Ariisha - Your review has been facebooked. Thank you so much. That was unbelievably lovely. xx

SillyGreenEyes - Hehe yes, the bounciness was also in me!!

LadyChaos - Oh how beautiful was your review! I hope that by the time you get to this chapter that you still feel the same. And don't worry, I don't think I could stop writing even if I want to.

dracolover911 - Haha, sorry! Had to stop somewhere :D

kateofallpeople - I wouldn't mind that at all! You can pick my brain all you like :D Also, this story is on FF dot net too under the same name, so you can contact me there.

Ok. So that's done. Haha. I hope I didn't miss anyone! Sorry again for the long period between updates. The next chapter should be up in two days, so come back and check then!

xx

The quote at the beginning of this chapter is from Ani Difranco's song Asking Too Much. Her music has served as a huge inspiration for this piece. I own nothing. Thanks Ani!
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Victim of the Fall