It Must Be Done

A/N:
So here it is. Chapter Two. The end.
. . . . .Enjoy?

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Chapter Two: Take Out The Lights and Start Screaming


Draco stood, still immobilized by the fact that Granger....that Hermione was on the steps crying. After a moment or two, his brow furrowed in confusion. Was that a laugh he'd heard among the sobbing? Surely not. That would make no sense at all. But maybe it was? The not-knowing was drving Draco mad and he sat down on the floor grumpily, making a loud thump that caused Hermione to look up. Her tearducts were, for the moment, distracted.

"Well, its bloody well time you looked down here!" Draco spat angrily, jumping to his feet and beginning to pace. He was still confused and slightly desperate to keep Hermione from walking up the rest of those stairs. His tactics, however, lacked a certain finesse. He was used to having everyone and everything revolve around him and had no idea how to treat others with any sort of respect. He certainly wasn't used to being comforting or to chasing after girls. They came to him; he'd never had this problem before.

"Honestly, Gr- Hermione, what's the matter with you? Pull yourself together, you're making me sick with the crying."

The last statment was somewhat true. Draco didn't do well with tears and he especially didn't like them on Hermione. For some reason, the fact that she was crying after running away from him, really got under his skin. He only wished he knew why he even cared; the notion was still deeply disturbing.

If Hermione had been confused before, she didn't even have words to describe how she felt now. What was he trying to do? Just as she'd decided that she might give him a chance to be decent, he acts like his old, bastardly self. Anger replaced grief-stricken confusion as Hermione stood up and glared at Malfoy Her thoughts were still in complete disarray.

"Malfoy, what on earth is going through your head?" she asked, hoping that if he gave her some insight as to what he was thinking if she did, then her own thoughts might become less jumbled.
"Trying to get me into bed? I mean, really! Have you gone mad? Lost your memory?" She was walking down the steps as she spoke and she soon stood right in front of him, face still wet from the bout of crying she'd just been through. "What-is-wrong-with-you?!" she shrieked, poking her pointer finger into his chest with every word and glaring at him all the while.

Draco was blinking in silent horror. Hermione was now poking him uncomfortably hard in the chest repeatedly and asking him questions that made no sense to him. "I. . . ." he started, sounding a bit more lost than he would have liked. "I don't have to answer to you!" he replied finally, not knowing what else to say. He didn't know how to put what he was feeling into words and he sure as hell wasn't keen on letting Hermione know his new obssession was. . .well. . .her. The change that had occured in Draco's mind was all too strange for telling. And it had happened much too fast. Deciding he'd had enough of her poking, Draco took Hermione's hand in his own and lead it away from his chest.

"Get your hand off me!" Hermione all but growled, shaking his hand off hers and slapping him across the face. "Now, I don't know what you're trying to do to me, Malfoy, but I don't want to be the fool who plays along just to find out! I thought for a moment that perhaps you weren't the prat you always acted like. I thought that maybe there was a reason you acted like such a git. But I'm afraid I was wrong, wasn't I?" Hermione's voice trembled now as she felt herself overflowing with rage. It was as if someone had taken away a dream. It was a dream she'd only thought up a half hour ago or so - right before he'd kissed her - but it was, nevertheless a dream.

And now it was shattered.

"Get your filthy hands off me, Granger!" Draco said as he leaned closer to her and glared back, grabbing his robes in an attempt to get them away from her. In that instant, her scent flooded his senses, making him remember why he'd wanted her to kiss him in the first place. Again he was faced with the dilema of his own pure blood, but this time he was all too eager to kick it aside and claim her mouth. He'd already decided she was to be his and once Draco Malfoy saw something he fancied, he had it.

Hermione was about to scream at Malfoy when she noticed that familiar look in his eyes. He wanted her. She could feel it and it only made her that much more angry. How dare he switch his way of thinking around again! The constant back and forth of these contradicting emotions was starting to take its toll on Hermione. Without a second thought, she released her hold on his robes and pushed him again. This time, however, he'd been expecting it and grabbed her arms as she retreated.

As she stood there, glaring at the floor, Hermione knew it was useless to fight. The feeling was not unlike someone knowing they were going to die in the end anyway and going along with whatever was being done to them. The only difference here was that Hermione wanted it. The minute he'd pulled her to him and held her hands behind his own back, resting her head against his chest. . .she'd surrendured. It was too clear to her that he was now unavoidable and so she looked up into his storm-cloud eyes, searching for some kind of answer. What she got, was somehow enough.

"Hermione. . ."

He'd barely whispered it. Breathed it might have been more accurate a description but it was enough for her and she stood, silent, as his lips touched her own. It was softer than their earlier kisses. The desperate need behind the gesture was still there, but it was less forced upon Hermione, for she now welcomed and embraced it. She wanted nothing more in that moment than to quell his desperation. She didn't even object when he picked her up roughly and kicked open the door to his room, unceremoniously kicking it closed behind them as well.

Draco was sick of the see-saw that was currently in control of his mind. Another thing he suddenly wanted to break was his father's hold on him. On that note, he'd decided to take a seat on the Hermione Granger side of the see-saw and let his oppressive, pureblood father go to hell. He didn't think lowering Hermione onto his bed was entirely an act of rebellion since he'd wanted to do so ever since they'd kissed against the bookshelf; he just figured that doing so would help him feel just a bit more free.

After laying Hermione down, Draco had shrugged off his own robes, throwing them aside and working on un-tying his tie. It was then that Hermione sat up. He looked at her, swearing to Merlin that if she got up and left again he might just kill her. What she did do, however small the action was, suprised Draco. He raised his eyebrow as her small fingers undid his tie and buttons. She met his gaze. Her hands shaking ever so slightly; clearly she was nervous.

"I can't just sit here and let you do everything." She said simply, smirking and regaining a bit of confidence. "Besides, we both know how incompetant you are next to me. I am top of the class."

That last comment earned her an eye roll and a "We'll see just how 'incompetant' I am, won't we?" from the blond wizard before her.

Hermione was scared, though she tried not to look it. She knew that she'd given in to the feelings Malfoy was creating within her, but she also knew that now everything was different for the two of them. Without even saying a word, they had broken some unseen barrier and were past the point of no return. This was really happening and there was nothing they could tell themselves that would stop it now. As she slid the school shirt off of Malfoy and threw it to the ground, she couldn't help but blush. He really was gorgeous and she felt she couldnt resist the urge to touch him. So she didn't.

Draco bit his bottom lip to keep from breathing too loudly as Hermione's hands traveled from his wrists, up his arms then paused for a moment before making their way over his chest and down his stomach, finally stopping at his pants - causing Hermione to blush like mad - and making their way back up to his chest again. The fact that she wasn't even trying to make him feel anything. . .that she was just curious to know what he felt like. . . .That fact alone made Hermione's feather-light touches leave an emblazoned trail behind them.

Draco watched as her hands came to a stop on his chest and let out his breath at last, placing his hands on her shoulders and pushing her back onto the black comforter that covered his silver sheets. The bed, as well as the rest of the room, was decked out in green, black and silver.

Hermione couldn't help the blood that rushed up her neck and to her face. She didn't even want to think about where else she was blushing as Draco unbuttoned her own blouse - untucking it from her skirt this time - and threw it towards the rest of the forgotten clothes on the floor. Hermione closed her eyes in embarrassment as Draco leaned forward to kiss between her breasts.

This was beyond embarrassing; it was downright against what Hermione Granger stood for. The prude in her, however, was being effectively silenced as Draco's tongue flicked over her left nipple and his fingers pinched her right one, making her gasp and making the blush creep down from her neck.

Draco rolled his eyes as he swirled his tongue around Hermione's nipple then looked up at her. "Don't blush." He said simply. It was an order.

Draco Malfoy was more than used to giving orders; it was what he'd been doing his whole life. The reason he'd given her this one was because he could not, for the life of him, understand why she would be embarrassed. She was beautiful. Perfect. But now she was struggling to glare at him as he kept his eye contact with her, blowing over the nipple he'd just tasted.

Hermione tried. She tried very hard to be angry with Malfoy for giving her orders because she was usually the one in control of things, but his warm tongue just felt too good on her and when he lifted his head from her chest and moved his right hand to her side, she almost pouted. Almost. It was then that she saw he wore a look of confusion and. . .was that anger?

"Come off it, Granger. You know you're gorgeous; stop playing the prude."

Draco had decided that Hermione's blushing was irritating. Where was that Gryffindor Princess confidence he was so used to? Leaning down, Draco claimed her lips just before she was about to retort and BAM! there was that electricity again.

Draco could feel himself burning up. He slid his left hand under her head, lifting it ever so slightly so that they were closer. As if she knew what he was thinking, Hermione had placed a hand on the back of his neck at the exact same time, pulling him to her.

So she did want him too, then. Draco couldnt help but smirk as he kissed her, bringing his right hand back to her breast and teasing the nipple with his fingers.

After a few moments of obvious resistance, Hermione moaned loudly into the kiss and arched her back, wanting to close some of the distance between them. She suddenly longed for the bookshelves again. At least that way, Malfoy was pressed against her. She could hardly believe that she was actually thinking like that, but she knew it didn't matter at the moment. Nothing did.

Nothing but him.

In fact she was so wrapped up in Malfoy's biting of her bottom lip and fondling of her breast, that Hermione hadn't noticed his hand leaving its place behind her head and making its way towards her skirt. As his hand slid up her inner thigh however, she couldn't help but notice.

The voice that had been forced to the back of her head screamed at Hermione to break away from Malfoy and yet. . .that voice was somehow not enough to keep Hermione from sliding her legs to the side. It was instinctive. She wanted him to touch her. It was no secret anymore.

Draco smirked again as his fingers made their way up Hermione's legs and she actually parted them. Taking that as his cue, Draco slowly slid his finger over her sex through her panties. Immediatly she froze up, breaking their kiss and biting her bottom lip, looking up at him. Draco sighed and raised an eyebrow at her. If she was even thinking of stopping him, she had another thing coming. He wasn't going to rape her. . .but he wasn't going to give up that easily. He thought he'd gotten rid of the exceedingly annoying prude in Hermione. Clearly he would have to work a bit harder.

Not a problem. He always did love his games. How odd it was that the name of the game was still 'Hermione Granger'. Only now, the point of the game was to make Hermione let go of her inhabitions. Though this was what he convinced himself this all was - a game -, Draco still knew that if this turned out to be a one time occurance, he would not be able to live with himself. She was too eye-opening. Too addictive.

Hermione stared up at Malfoy; she knew the look of inner conflict was apparent on her face, and at the moment she didn't care. What should she do? It was as if time was frozen. Neither of them was moving and Malfoy seemed to be getting more and more annoyed by the second. She could see the lust in those grey-blue eyes and she knew that a moment ago, her eyes harbored the same desire. But was this wise? This was farther than she felt entirely comfortable with and she was almost sure she would kindly tell him 'No' in a minute.

Seeing the doubt in Hermione's eyes, Draco took it upon himself to tip the scales in his favor; he was afraid he might lose her now and somewhere deep inside, he knew he would not be able to deal with that. He slowly began to slide his finger up and down; he was sure he'd brushed the girl's clit through the fabric, for she now gasped and closed her eyes. Draco then leaned down, taking a chance and speaking the truth which they both knew already.

"I need you, Hermione."

There was a familiar strain to his voice that told Hermione he was speaking the truth. . . .and he'd called her by her first name again. That in itself made her heart skip a beat. When she finally opened her eyes again, Hermione nodded. She had seen that flash of fear in Malfoy's eyes and heard it in his voice. This was what he needed her to do. This was where she needed to be. Her rationality was forgotten along with her two best friends and the thoughts of what their faces would look like if they ever found out what she was consenting to.

This was about the way she could feel Malfoy's desperation, even now, as he trailed kisses down from her neck to her stomach, stopping only for a moment at her breasts, giving each nipple a soft bite and earning a moan from Hermione in return. As his lips started to make their way back up her torso, Malfoy's hands were ripping the white panties that were preventing him access to her most intimate folds.

Hermione winced as he threw the ruined article of clothing over his shoulder and to the floor. It was her last defense and it had effectively been broken by Draco Malfoy. Just like all of her other defenses had by the blonde Slytherin.

Draco didn't understand Hermione's sudden wince, but he wasn't going to waste much time thinking about it. He was far more concerned with what was wrong with his mind. First of all, he had willingly brought a muggleborn into his bed - did he really just think the word 'muggleborn' again? - and now all he wanted to do was to make her feel good. Normally, it was all about his needs. He was, after all, Draco Malfoy. A selfish pig, he knew, but what was all this sudden consideration? And where on earth was it coming from? Draco had no idea, but as his middle finger found her clit and her fingernails dug into his shoulders, her hips bucking slightly. . . Draco didn't care. He merely added it to list of things he wasn't so sure about since earlier that evening. All of which had to do with himself. Hermione Granger was changing him, that was for damn sure.

Sensations she didn't even think possible were now surging through Hermione as one of Malfoy's fingers slid into her, his thumb replacing his middle finger's place on her clit and continuing the circular motion that was making her pleasantly wet around his finger. She suddenly couldn't stand Malfoy's mouth being so far away and she pulled his smirking face closer to her own, sliding her tongue over his bottom lip before pressing her own lips to his.

Draco responded to her lips immediatly, moving his own against hers for a mere moment before she moaned again and his tongue found its way into her mouth. God, was she delicious and he couldn't even begin to describe how much he wanted to fuck her right then and there. . .but she wasn't ready and as he'd decided earlier, with Hermione he was going do it right. Sliding another finger inside her, he felt his cock twitch in anticipation. She really was tight. He could feel that her inner walls were clamping down nicely even on his two fingers.

Hermione couldn't take much more. She could feel something building inside of her that was urgent for release. She slowed her lips, moaning out a word for the first time. A name, to be precise.

"M. . .Malfoy. ." There was an air of urgency behind the name. It was as if she were asking him for something.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her, knowing already what she wanted and obliging by sliding a third finger into Hermione's very much dripping pussy. The look on her face that he got in return, as she took a sharp intake of breath and moved her hips against his hand, was priceless. As he forced his fingers deeper inside her, he felt the physical form of her innocence. He almost felt guilty as he thought about what she would feel like once he broke through that 'innocence'. He bit back a groan at the very thought of it and smirked, focusing on Hermione's face again as it contorted into sheer pleasure. She was very close to release, just a few more thrusts of his fingers and she would finish. His thoughts were confirmed when she spoke again.

"Malfoy. . .Malfoy, faster. . ." Hermione asked, breathing hard and biting her bottom lip. She didn't want the friction to end; Malfoy's fingers were stroking her inner walls so pleasantly each and every time they slid in and out.

As soon as she'd asked him to speed up, Draco had stopped his mintrations completely and placed a strong hand on her hips to keep them from moving. His fingers were still inside her.

This 'Malfoy' business was really starting to irritate him. He wanted to hear his name on her lips as she came and he knew that as soon as he moved his fingers, not ten seconds would pass before she did. Especially if he was going faster. He wanted his name and he wanted to hear her beg.

For the life of her, Hermione couldn't figure out why he had stopped. Why did Malfoy feel the need to tease her at this particular moment? Just a few more brushes against her inner walls and a few more circles around her swollen clit and Hermione would have her sweet release. But no. He'd stopped and he was now holding her hips in place while a finger of his traced her wet slit; he looked into her honey eyes expectantly and she gazed back into his grey orbs, harboring a look that could be classified somewhere between mad with wanton. . .and confused.

They were both very intelligent people and a part of Hermione's brain realized that should she expect her release, she needed to find out what it was he wanted. But the finger teasing her entrance had her full attention and she bit her lip to keep from screaming at him to continue his earlier minstrations.

After a desperate moment of trying to focus on what he wanted, all Hermione could manage was "Malfoy, please." The smirk she got in return told her that she had almost got it.

That was too easy. Draco told himself as he leaned down and whispered in her ear "Please, what?" he was not about to make this easy for her. Seeing her lying there, her face contorted with a need so primal. . .so un-Hermione Granger. . .He wanted to keep that look on her for as long as possible.

So he teased her a little more. As he pulled away to look at her, he saw - and felt - her practically writhing against his hold on her hips. That actually shocked Draco and he watched with rapt attention as she struggled against him.

Of course, Draco's eyes honed in on the breasts that were swinging ever so slightly from side to side with each attempt she made. He couldn't resist. He leaned his head down to her left breast and caught the nipple in his mouth, sucking gently and effectively ceasing her thrashing. She now arched her back and mewled softly. When Draco looked up at her, she was watching him, her lip still between her teeth and she now practically gasped out:

"Please. . .Just start again." After he raised an eyebrow at her, tears of frustration and need formed at the corner of her eyes. "I need it, Malfoy, please." and with that, he couldn't hold out on Hermione any longer. He slid a finger into her, knowing full well that only one would not be enough to bring her long awaited orgasm. He still wanted his name.

As Malfoy's finger began slidng in and out of her once again, Hermione moaned his surname in satisfaction. His response to that was a nip at the nipple he was still working with his mouth. She winced, but didn't think into his reasoning for it; she was still not in her right mind. After a few exits and entries of Malfoy's finger, Hermione realized this would not be enough. As she began asking Malfoy for more once again, he complied. . .in his own way. He simply added one more finger. It was still not enough, especially since his thumb had long since moved away from her clit.

This was getting ridiculous. Was the know-it-all really so wrapped up in her lust that she didn't notice Draco had bit her directly after she'd said his surname? After a few more pleas from Hermione - and bites from Draco - , he figured he should just tell her what he wanted. Or, at least, tell her right before she came.

So, that decided, Draco slid a third finger into her warm, wet sex and began circling her clit with his thumb again. The reaction he got almost frightened him. Hermione had arched her back so violently that Draco's mouth actually lost her tit and her nails dug into the back of his neck so hard, Draco was sure she drew blood. She had started her chant of 'Malfoy. . . .Malfoy' that kept in time with his fingers as they slid in and out of her and Draco decided was was the best time to make his demands. He stopped his fingers once again and breathed into her chest:

"Say my name."
"Mal-" she started, breathless.
"Not that one." He hissed, locking eyes with her.

The request was so simple, yet for Hermione, it meant the world. His name. . .Draco. It felt funny to even think it, let alone say it. But she wanted to. At that moment, she wanted to very badly. The fact that this boy - the one who had been hated by her for near seven years now - wanted her - the 'mudblood' who he'd tormented for the same amount of time - to call him by his first name was so oddly erotic that Hermione didn't even know how to explain it to herself.

"Draco" she breathed out, still staring into his eyes. As she said it, she saw them shift slightly. Something like happiness reflected back into her own cinnamon orbs as Draco's fingers began their rythm once again.

After saying his name, it seemed, Hermione couldn't stop. It was, perhaps, similar to Draco's own reaction when he'd said hers for the first time. He hoped so. He sincerely did hope that Hermione had the same fascination with him as he now felt he had for her. He certainly felt a burst of confidence when Hermione screamed his name at the top of her lungs as her inner walls tightened around his fingers and her juices slid down them.

Draco could barely get over the fact that he, prince of Slytherin, had just made Hermione Granger, princess of Gryffindor, have her first orgasm. Smug didn't even begin to cover the way he was feeling as he waited for her to recover. His fingers were still inside of her and when she did finally open her eyes, he took them out and brought them to his lips, licking every last drop off.

"Delicious." He said with that same smirk he always wore. Hermione now thought she rather fancied it.

Before tonight, Draco's smug little smirk had annoyed her to no end but now. . . Now it was a bit endearing. Cocky was always cute. Or, at least it was on Draco Malfoy. After he plopped himself at her side, idly circling her nipple with his fingertip and giving her goosebumps of pleasure, Draco looked up into her eyes once again. It was then that she realized his sexual problems had not been solved.

Jumping up to sit on her knees rather awkwardly, Hermione began to fumble with his belt. She was in such a hurry to get the bloody thing off that she hadn't noticed Draco's shocked expression or his persistant call of 'Hermione'. It was only when his hands grabbed her own, stilling their movement, that she stopped and looked at him with that 'deer in wandlight' look that he was becoming quite fond of. She was so innocent, so eager to please, that Draco was almost tempted to let her do whatever it was she was planning on. But some weird, normally unused part of him - was that his heart? - told him he should stop her. He didn't want her to feel obligated and damned if he knew why! He hardly understood these foreign feelings she was making him have. Draco wasn't used to compassion and he certainly wasn't used to showing it.

"But you. . ." She trailed off, looking at Draco dejectedly. Why wouldn't he let her? Was his pureblood brain finally kicking in again? Did he not want her 'dirty' lips all over him or something? That hardly seemed fair. She wanted to feel him. . .taste him. Why was he holding back now?

It must be the mudblood thing. His memory must be coming back to him and he's wondering what the fuck he's just done. . . she told herself as she felt those tears coming back to her eyes. This time, however, she couldn't hold them in and they slid down her cheeks which were still flushed from her pleasure moments ago.

It wasn't until she felt soft lips on those cheeks, kissing away the tears, that Hermione looked up at Draco and saw him give her an awkward smile. She instantly felt relief wash over her and almost giggled at how strange Draco looked with a smile. Smiling was something that, obviously, he was not used to doing. As she thought that though, her mirth turned to sadness. What kind of life had he known to make him so cold? She was, for the moment, convinced that Draco's family was the reason he was like this. There was no way it was really him.

Pulling Hermione to him, Draco continued to do that weird-feeling thing he never did. He continued to smile. He stroked her hair and layed back, pulling her top of of him. No. he told himself as he looked up at her then all but pushed her off of him, making sure she landed gently next to him. He saw the look of confusion on her face and decided to not even adress it. Instead he called for his wand with a tired "Accio wand." and with a flick of his wrist, they were surrounded by darkness.

"Get comfortable." He said as he slid under the black comforter that accentuated the emerald carpet in the room rather nicely. Draco was actually rather fond of the colors of his House's founding father, Salizar Slytherin. The fact that he always got compliments on how dashing he looked in them was probably the only thing that was annoying about them. But then again, he was always told he looked good; no matter what colors he had on.

Draco sighed quietly as he felt Hermione pulling the covers over her as well. Instinctively, he pulled her to him, her warm, naked back against his cool chest. If he wasn't thinking so much about how he wanted this to last - and work - and how impossible it seemed, Draco would have had a renewed hard-on. But, since he was so preoccupied and worried, the one he'd had was gone within minutes.

Hermione was sleeping, thank Merlin. If she hadn't been, there was no doubt in Draco's mind that she would be asking him all these annoying questions because she would, undeniably, realize that he was troubled. And he was. Very much so. How was he supposed to keep the one thing that made him feel alive when she was everything he was brought up to hate?

Draco's mind wandered towards thoughts of his punishment if his father, Lucius, was ever to find out about tonight. There was no doubt in Draco's mind that there would be pain invloved. Loads and loads of pain. Perhaps his father would even kill him for tainting the Malfoy name. . .for dipping in to such filth.

Filth. Yes. That's what she was, wasn't she? Well, if that was true and if he was so repulsed by Hermione, why was he tracing circles idly on her back. Her skin was so soft and her scent was so sweet it made Draco crazy.

All of a sudden he felt himself getting caught up in her again. He needed to bring her to her room. If anything, to avoid the awkwardness of the morning and if anything else, to avoid Draco's hope reaching all time highs. This couldn't happen. It simply could not and the longer he let her stay with him, the more he would get attatched. By tomorrow - hopefully - the only thing about this little...'occurance' that Draco would be upset about was the fact that he didn't cum. Or, if he got that far in his 'Malfoy Family Rules and Customs' crashcourse tonight, that he didn't steal the little mudblood's virginity to make her miserable.

Ugh. The fact that he had even let his old values poison his potential thoughts made Draco sick. But, as he carried her up her stairs - she had mumbled some half-asleep consent and therefore he was now allowed to walk up them - , he realized that he would simply have to go back to thinking the pureblood way. It wasn't an option and it wasn't a choice. He had to. Especially if he wanted to live because if he let Hermione consume his thoughts and his life, Lucius was sure to find out.

After planting a soft kiss on Hermione's forehead, Draco walked back down the stairs and to his room. He had a lot of 'cleansing' to do. He needed to rid himself of Hermione and he decided he'd start with her clothes. Physical ridding of the proof was easier, of course, and he would much rather leave the restarting of his entire thought process for later. Ridding his thoughts of Hermione was going to be a lot more complicated than throwing a bunch of clothes onto the common room couch. It required his complete attention. Draco could do it though, couldn't he?

Well, he really didn't have a choice. He had to. He was going to forget Hermione. It would take a long time, but it was imperative. It was when he realized this that the solution dawned on Draco:

She would forget too.


Immediatly he made his way back upstairs. He needed to do this and he needed to do it now before he chickened out. When he was finally inside her room, he sighed audibly. She looked so peacefule, so beautiful and she should be his. It was not fair that he had to do this and it was a damn shame because he knew that they would have been perfect together. Their love would have been as passionate, or more so, than their hate used to be. Their level of intelligence would have kept them entertained and content with one another. Their looks would have been unrivaled. the concept of the two of them being a 'they' or a 'we' was. . . .heaven. It was also impossible.

Draco also realized that even if the two of them were perfect for each other and knew it. . . . .Nobody one else would agree.


Gazing down at the sleeping girl, Draco's jaw tightened. He didn't want to do this. He really, truly did not. But he had to. It was unnavoidable.

It must be done.

He walked back downstairs and into his bedroom once again, remembering all too well what had happened almost an hour ago. Hermione's moans seemed to echo throughout the empty room just as loud as if there was a tape of it playing. And maybe there was in his mind. Maybe there would be for the rest of Draco's life. But did it have to be that way? Couldn't he just try with her? With his father?

He grabbed his wand, clenching his fist around it angrily. No. Nothing ever worked out so nicely. Especially when Lucius was involved. And so Draco told himself what was becoming his new mantra:

It must be done.

With that thought, he was racing up the steps, taking them two at a time. When he reached her he was panting and his wand was pointed at her forehead.

For a few moments he simply stood there, frightened and unsure of what he was doing. Of course, he knew the concept of what he was about to do. What he wasn't sure of. . .was himself. Could he really do this? Was he really that strong a person? How would he act towards her when he was the only one who remembered tonight?

No different. he told himself silently as he lowered his hand to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. She shifted slightly in response, still sleeping while he, in turn, pulled his hand away quickly, not wanting to linger longer than what was necessary.

Without further ado, Draco closed himself off from emotion and held his wand over Hermione's forehead once again. He was doing the right thing. It was better this way. For both of them.

Taking a deep breath, Draco narrowed his blue-grey eyes. This was it.

"Oblivi-"

But his concentration was interrupted when a hand knocked against his. Honestly confused cinnamon eyes met schooled, guarded grey ones.

"Draco. . .Why?" Hermione questioned softly before her tone changed drastically. Sleep had immediatel worn off and she was now extremely angry.

"We could simply let it go! There's no need for you to alter my memory!!" Hermione exclaimed, growing scared and already feeling sad. How could he just go and do this? It wasn't fair. She wasn't going to put up with it!

But Draco was a step ahead of her and she found that she could not move.

"It must be done." He said simply, raising his wand to her forehead for what would be the last time. He stared down at Hermione. Her cheeks were wet and red; her eyes were puffy. She was crying. It hurt him deep down to see this. . .But he knew it would no longer matter to her tomorrow. With that thought, a whole new wave of emotions came over Draco and he found himself fighting his own tears. Hermione seemed to notice this and her tears began to fall faster.

Biting his lip, Draco shook his head.

"It would never have worked, Hermione. I'm sorry."

He couldn't bring himself to say the charm outloud, so he mentally performed it and fled the scene.


It was hours later when Draco realized that no matter how destroyed his room was, no matter how many things he smashed and broke. . . .his memories were still intact; they always would be.

He was a fool.



xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

A/N#2
I hope you're not angry. I know that the ending was rushed and abrupt-feeling. . .But I elt that there was nowhere to really go with this story. I couldn't work it into anything else. Therefore, it needed to end. I'm hoping that it was too short a fic for anyone to get attatched to the two lovies.

If you want to jump onto a longer fic of mine, you can head on over to When Our Children Fight Our Wars. I'm on the second chapter and its nowhere near being over. I promise. I haven't even worked all of it out in my head yet. It's very different from this fic, though. Give it a shot if you like!


The chapter title is from a song by the band, Good Charlotte. I can't remember which one exactly. . . .But its from one of the old ones.


Cheers!

<3