What I\'ve Always Known

Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the plot. *da-dum-dum-dum*


A/N: Another fricken chapter that won\'t load properly. UGH. I\'m working on it though....


Searching for Sanity

Hermione turned away from the window, her tears full of hot, angry tears. She bumped into Ron, hardly noticing where she was going.

‘So this is what it feels like to have your heart break.’ Hermione thought numbly, as someone placed their arm around her.

“Ron, please don’t-“Hermione protested, trying to push Ron’s arm away.

Ron seized her arms and spun her around, placing her back firmly against the window.

“Ron! Stop! -“Was all Hermione managed to get out before Ron’s mouth was pressed forcefully against hers. All time stopped for Hermione, and her senses inexplicably sharpened. Ron held his mouth unpleasantly against hers, his kissing clumsy and uncoordinated. Below she heard a shout of anger she knew well. Coming to her right mind, she placed her fists on Ron’s chest and pushed with all her strength. Ron stumbled backwards, nevertheless looking satisfied with himself.

“Get out.” Hermione whispered, every syllable trembling with cold rage. Ron bowed mockingly, that horrible triumphant grin still in place on his features. He swept from the room using the secret passage, the stonewall closing with an almost ominous boom behind him.

Hermione’s head swam, and she dropped her face into her hands. Harry, she needed to find Harry. Numbly, Hermione crossed her dorm and made her way down the stairs in a sort of trance. Rubbing her right temple, Hermione focused on keeping the emotional pain at bay as she scanned the room for Harry.

“Looking for someone ‘Mione?” Seamus asked from directly behind her. Hermione started slightly before turning to face him, fake smile in place.

“Yes actually, I was wondering where Harry was. Have you seen him?” She asked, her voice so cheery she disgusted even herself.

“Fred and George convinced him to go spy on the Slytherins Quidditch practice. Ever since he became…. well…friends with Malfoy, he’s been hesitant to ruin their game.” Seamus shrugged and moved off to talk to Dean Thomas.

Hermione nodded to him and made her way across the Gryffindor common room, bumping into several people and not caring.
She pushed her way down to the Entrance Hall and exited into the grounds, heading towards the Quidditch Pitch very slowly.

Her heart soared slightly when she spotted a headful of familiar messy black locks. Harry was concealed behind the broom shed, apparently fighting an internal battle of wills. He turned when he heard someone approaching, and smiled when his eyes found Hermione’s.

“Hey Hermione, I was just-er…um…you know…” Harry’s eyes darted nervously around as he searched for an excuse.

“Enjoying the scenery?” Hermione offered sarcastically, nodding up at the Slytherin players high above them.

“Yes-no!” Harry said, becoming very flustered.

“Harry, could we talk? Maybe go for a walk?” Hermione asked, her misery returning in full force.

“Sure.” Harry answered casually. Only after they had found a boulder near the lake to settle themselves on, did Harry encourage her to break her silence. “So?”

Hermione sighed, “Harry, I’m sorry I keep unloading like this on you all the time.”

Harry dismissed her apology with a smile and shake of his head.

“Something happened this afternoon that I don’t quite understand, and I need your help.” Hugging her knees to her chest, Hermione slowly and carefully explained the afternoons’ events, including Ron’s forced kiss and Draco’s betrayal. When she was done, Hermione had her chin rested on her knees, and Harry was pacing, frowning at the ground passing beneath his feet.
Hermione simply watched him saunter for a few minutes before Harry stopped in front of her, tapping his bottom lip in thought and still staring downwards.

“So, then Ron pushed you up-“

“Against the window, yeah.” Hermione answered quickly, sensing Harry was on the edge of figuring something out. Harry circled around the rock, muttering very quietly and still tapping his lip.

“Hermione, is it maybe possible, that Pansy simply caught Draco off guard, and that’s why he was…kissing her back?” Harry suggested tentatively. Hermione gaped at him. It hadn’t even occurred to her, and she answered honestly.

“No, actually it-it hadn’t. But Harry?”

“Hmmm?”

“How am I going to explain to him what Ron did?”

“The kiss you mean?”

Hermione couldn’t suppress the urge to roll her eyes, “Would I have to explain anything else?”

Harry threw her a sarcastic smirk before resuming his pacing in front of the boulder. Hermione watched Harry pace for several more minutes, her nerves rubbed raw by his every second of silence. Finally, when she could take no more, she threw up her hands
with a loud sigh.

“Well Einstein, are you going to let me in on that theory you have going on in that little Quidditch filled head of yours?”

“No,” Harry smiled.

Hermione blinked, “What?”

“No, I’m not going to let you in on it yet, but I am going to need your help with it.” Harry smiled at her again, stopping his pacing and placing his hands casually in his robe pockets. Hermione sighed again.

“Alright, what is it?”

“Potions.”

“Potions?”

“Potions. How about this Saturday? Tomorrow.” Harry started walking back towards the Great Hall, nodding for her to follow.
Hermione jumped down off the rock and followed, hobbling slightly on her stiff legs.

“Sure…wait, isn’t that a Hogsmeade visit?” Hermione frowned at Harry.

“Yes it is, it’ll be better if not a lot of people are around.” He responded as if they were plotting to break some sort of secret code.

“OK then tomorrow. What are you going to tell Ron?” Hermione asked slyly, childishly eager to find a flaw in Harry’s secret plan.

“That you’re helping me with History of Magic homework.” Harry replied promptly. Hermione resisted the temptation to reach up and clobber Harry upside the head.

“Well, Hermione, all this thinking has made me a might peckish, let’s head into dinner shall we?” Harry asked jovially, turning towards the Great Hall. Hermione nodded and followed; grateful the Slytherin Quidditch practice wasn’t over yet. She probably would have fallen over the Ravenclaw table if Draco had been scorching her with his intense gaze.

Conversation came easy that evening as Ron had decided to sit with Neville at the other end of the table, and Harry and
Hermione chose seats next to Seamus.

Seamus engaged Hermione in a conversation about this year’s house Quidditch teams which she surprisingly followed. Halfway through her helping of pudding, the Slytherin team trudged in, all looking tired and satisfied, save for one. Draco lagged at the end of the line, glaring straight ahead, his shoulders held aristocratically taut.

Hermione couldn’t help but watch his progress to his table. He sat at a secluded section of the table, and merely picked at his dinner. Hermione sighed and turned back to Seamus and Harry, who were arguing over the Ravenclaw seekers skills. Hermione smiled at Seamus and shook her head slightly to get him to shut up. The Ravenclaw seeker just happened to be Cho, and Hermione knew Harry would defend her until his dying day.

Hermione pushed the rest of her pudding towards Harry, who had been eyeing it for some time. He grinned at her and scooped it onto his plate. Hermione grinned back, and glanced across the hall at Draco, this time meeting his gaze. Draco held her stare steady, and she physically flinched when he narrowed his eyes in anger and turned to Marcus Flint.

Hermione shook her head when her stomach started to twist with deep-rooted guilt. He had done wrong first, and it had been his choice. Ron had surprised her into submission for a while, but she had reacted in the end hadn’t she? Draco didn’t exactly seem outraged when that floozy Parkinson had quite literally thrown herself on him.

“I’m going up to the common room; I have some homework to do. Harry, I’ll meet you tomorrow to help you with your Poti-” Harry widened his eyes at her “-History of Magic homework. See you Seamus!”

“Cheers ‘Mione!” Harry called.

“Later!” Seamus called to her as she exited the doors. Hermione held one hand over her shoulder and continued on her way.

Hermione ran a hand through her hair, thinking maybe she would just go to bed and leave her Charms for tomorrow, when Draco loomed out of the shadows directly ahead of her and she let out a small yelp of surprise.

“We need to talk. Come with me.” Draco drawled, the familiar sarcastic note back in his voice. Whether the transformation was conscious or not, Hermione didn’t know.

She followed him down a short hall to the right of the Marble staircase then down some stairs that led to a long, wood paneled hall. Draco held open one of the first doors for Hermione, and she entered. Torches on the walls automatically flickered to life and revealed several highly polished wooden student desks, and one larger teachers’ desk.

Hermione hoisted herself up onto the edge of the teacher’s desk and left her hands propped on either side of her body. Draco remained leaning with his back against the shut door; arms crossed loosely, gaze cold. Hermione felt a little seed of anger rise up within her; he had kissed Pansy back and yet he was staring at her as though she had willingly kissed Ron.

“You wanted to talk,” She said casually “so talk.”

Draco’s back came off of the door, “So now it’s all me, is it?”

“Seems that way.”

Draco’s face contorted with fury as he stalked across the room towards her. But Hermione was ready for him.

“Didn’t exactly leap off Parkinson, now did you? In fact, it looked like you were enjoying yourself.” Hermione snapped, the volume of her voice rising angrily with every syllable

“And what about you? It didn’t look as though you were really fighting to get away from Weasel-Bee!” Draco’s voice cracked like a whip over her, and suddenly his resemblance to Lucius was stunning.

“Think this through Draco! You’ve got it wrong, you kissed Pansy back, I pushed Ron away.” Hermione retaliated.

Something in Draco’s face softened and his voice quieted to a normal speaking volume.

“I know. I guess I reacted on reflex first, but I…. what do you mean you pushed Weasley away?”

“You were there.”

“No I wasn’t. I was already heading for the Quidditch Pitch, that insufferable Parkinson on her ass in the grass behind me.” Draco smirked at the memory.

Hermione burst out laughing at her ridiculous boyfriend. He smiled at her, and moved a fraction of an inch closer, his manner no longer domineering, but tentative.

“I guess Weasley and Parkinson don’t like the thought of us, love.” Draco said quietly when Hermione had stopped laughing.

“I know. Something tells me we haven’t seen the worst though. Draco, I’m sorry, I really did stop Ron when I realized what he was doing.” Hermione reached out and rested her palms on his forearms.

“I know love. I’m so sorry I reacted the way I did to Parkinson. I don’t know why I did, but I know that doesn’t make it any more acceptable. You’re the only gir-woman in my life, and I want it to stay that way.” Draco leaned in farther and brushed his lips lightly over hers, gauging her reaction. Hermione smiled and curled one hand around the back of his neck, pulling him tightly against her body. Draco relaxed and wrapped his arms around her waist, sliding his tongue along hers. As Hermione ran her hands down his chest, she started thinking.

Touching and holding him didn’t seem like enough anymore. She wanted him, all of him. Now. She loved him beyond words and she knew this was the kind of man she had been saving herself for. It was her time now, her time with Draco, and nobody, not Pansy, not Ron, could stop her from having her Draco tonight. Hermione slowly pulled her mouth from Draco’s and he traced a fiery trail down her neck with his tongue. It was common knowledge Lucius had paid for Draco to have his own private room in the Slytherin dungeons, and Hermione intended to make use of it.

“Draco?”

“Yes love?”

“Make love to me?”

Draco froze, and raised his head to look her in the eyes.

“Are you sure Hermione?” He asked softly, tracing his fingers down her cheek. Hermione brought her hand up to cover his and held it to her cheek, closing her eyes and savoring his touch.

“Yes. If ever a time was right, it’s now. This is our time Draco.” Hermione whispered.