Cracked Armor Chapter 1: The Good, the Bad and the Tragedy, a harry potter fanfic

A/N: I'm so glad I finally get to work on this story. It's been on my mind for a while and now I'd really like to share it with everyone. I know the whole kidnapper and prisoner thing has been done before with Dramione before but I wanted to give my own take on it. Hope you all enjoy.

"I'm close to the fire. I fear that soon you'll reveal your dangerous mind. It's in your eyes. What's on your mind? I fear the smile and the promise inside. It's in your eyes. What's on your mind? I fear your presence, I'm frozen inside. - A Dangerous Mind~ Within Temptation

Cracked Armor

Chapter 1. The Good, the Bad and the Tragedy

The hood of Draco's cloak fell back as he tilted his head to glance heavenward. The sky was ashen; it had been like that all day as if it simply couldn't decide on whether or not it should rain. A gentle breeze whipped his flaxen bangs back and forth, slightly ruffling the formal black attire he wore. It carried the sound of his name in the distance, echoing softly over the grassy hillside of the Malfoy mausoleum. There was a deep sigh inside him that wouldn't come out; a sigh that was filled with unbearable regret and anguish. It was the kind of sigh that's anchored deep inside the cavity of your chest and refused to be let out.

"Draco!"

Said man barely had enough time to turn around when something- or rather someone- barreled right into him. Draco nearly stumbled back from the sheer force. He righted himself and immediately noticed the familiar bouncy strawberry blonde hair. Astoria. Just a few feet away stood Blaise and Greg, watching them silently. Draco stood still in her arms, as she whispered, "I'm sorry." Draco was to say the least not the huggiest person ever, but he allowed her to embrace him none-the-less, arms hanging limply at his sides. He could never understand why women apologized for things that were clearly not their fault. After a long moment, Astoria managed to compose herself and pulled back to peer curiously at Draco's face with her cat-like blue-green orbs.

"Are you alright?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

"Of course," Draco scoffed.

Blaise stepped forward, crossing his arms over his chest. "Just to make things clear, we came for the food, not a sobfest."

Astoria shot him a dirty look before turning back to Draco. "What he means in that oh so wonderfully charming and completely tactful way of his," she said, sarcasm dripping from her words. "...is that we're here for you."

Draco chuckled. "The food line is more Greg's style though." Greg straightened sharply, looking quite indignant. Draco jerked his head in the direction of the door. "The main chamber is down the stairs and to the left. I have to go speak with my mother so all of you go ahead."

Draco tapped his wand thrice against a large ivory door covered in an intricate spiraled pattern of runes and latin words, an emerald dragon paw glistening at its center. The stone constantly changed its constellation or patronus gem according to which family member was currently entering the mausoleum. The door swung open of its own accord, blowing cool air into their faces. Draco swished his wand up and instantly all the green-flamed torches lit up along the stairs on both sides. Blaise nodded at Draco, grabbing Astoria's hand as they stepped through the threshold. Greg hung back, shifting his footing hesitantly and stared at Draco. He clasped his shoulder meaningfully after an awkward silent moment.

"Hey, I know I'm just a bumbling oaf to everyone but if you ever need anything, you shouldn't hesitate to owl me."

Draco's mouth quirked up into a twisted smile. "Even if I were to ever ask you to help me move a body?"

"Don't be so cryptic, Malfoy." Greg laughed. "If you need anything- anything at all- I'm your man."

"I'll hold you to it."

Greg smiled at him before entering the mausoleum. Draco waited several moments, watching Greg finally get to the last step. He entered and found himseld in the main chamber that led to five different entrances; a small library, candle room, wand room, burial room and the family vault. A ring of green-flamed torches lit the chamber, creating eerie shadows along the stone walls. Instead of heading straight to meet his mother in the candle room, Draco chose the hallway diagonal to the one Greg and everyone had taken. The only sound to be heard were Draco's shoes padding along the cobble stoned floor, echoing in an almost taunting manner. He clenched his fists at his sides, mouth forever seemingly etched into a scowl.

He hadn't entered this place since he was a child, and the memories of the chills he had experienced before had never truly left him. It was like the calls of the dead sought him out, speaking their haunting words in his ear the way one might whisper a deadly secret. Draco felt rhythmic pulses through his blazer and slipped his hand in to clutch his father's wand. He glanced down regretfully at the eighteen inch, Elm, dragon heartstring wand he now held possessively. It was cold to the touch but pulsed with a steady, flowing power that could only belong to his father. The wand deserved to be within his father's coffin, but tradition stood that every Malfoy wand be placed in the wand room after death. The head of the Malfoy clan had long ago once declared that should the family ever require an extra hand, a Malfoy would inherit generations of power.

Draco soon reached a long winding staircase. He steadied himself along the stone railing, his wand lighting his way through the darkness, making the granite on the steps shimmer vibrantly. He soon reached a door made of the same ivory as the door to the mausoleum. Two hands fashioned into the shape of trees were carved into the door with a spiraled silver snake pattern intertwining into a circle around them.

"The left hand for destruction and the right for creation", Draco murmured.

He pressed his left hand over the carving and the right followed right after it. The carvings glowed a dim ethereal white light before the whole image shifted into one large snake spiral. The door cracked open all the way, allowing Draco to step through the threshold. It was a small room lit by torches on all sides. One marble wall was decorated with moving pictures of the deceased Malfoys while the other was littered with their wands in the order of their deaths. Draco gave one last forlorn look at Lucius' wand before placing it flat against the wall right above the golden plaque where it read his father's name. He glanced at the plaque next to his father's. The thought of him being next to join the empty place beside his father sent a mind-numbing shiver down his spine. Draco proceeded to leave the room to go back to the main room that led to the five different towers. He now entered the hallway opposite of the wand room's.

The staircase this time led him to the candle room. He approached the door to the room only to find it slightly ajar. Draco gently pushed it open to reveal his mother standing in the center of the room of lit floating candles of all colors and sizes, dressed in her finest black silk gown. Her white-blond hair was spilled about her slim shoulders. She looked dazed with unshed tears sparkling within her cyan blue eyes, making her seem much younger- more vulnerable. After a few moments of watching the candles float around her, Narcissa's pale hand reached out to grab a thin medium-sized light blue candle. She turned around and her eyes widened at the sight of Draco leaning against the threshold, watching her thoughtfully.

"Draco," Narcissa whispered softly. She closed the distance between them, and reached out to place her gloved hand lightly against his cheek. Draco didn't show any flicker of emotion as he stared down at her. "...It's time."

"I know."

He closed his eyes and gently removed his mother's hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze before letting his hand fall back at his side. He silently left the room and heard his mother following close behind. Draco led them to the core of the mausoleum- the burial room- to find a large gathering of their family and friends formed in a circle around a glass casket, murmuring quietly to one another. They immediately hushed up when Draco and Narcissa entered the room, making way to clear a path for them. Draco stood with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes of stone surveying each familiar face. He and Narcissa now stood side by side as they watched Lucius' body over the open glass casket. Draco bit his lip as his face twisted with anguish at the sight.

Lucius appeared to be in a deep sleep. He would remain frozen eternally in appearance and would never decay- remain even warm to the touch but still gone forever. Draco noticed how even the hard lines of his face had managed to unfold to reveal underneath many layers that he too was only just a man. The entire Malfoy family had gathered together inside of the Malfoy mausoleum where all of the Malfoys before Lucius were lined up along the walls in stone shelves inside glass caskets much like his own. Draco felt a terrible shiver crawl up his spine despite the warmth from the floating white candles scattered about the room. He too would one day be locked up in here. Alone yet at the same time accompanied by the bodies of his ancestors. Draco willed himself to finally turn away from his father's body.

He glanced to his right and saw his mother openly crying for the first time. It was unheard of for any noble woman of pure blood to shed tears like this, but no one would be able to argue with her at this moment. Everyone stood by and offered their condolences and spoke kind words about Lucius. The longer Draco stood there and listened, the more the words felt like empty lies. Had any of them really known his father? Had they really cared enough to come to his funeral or merely cared about appearances? Another heart-wrenching sob escaped Narcissa's lips, and Draco silently slipped his hand into his mother's. He closed his eyes as she squeezed his hand tightly.

He silently hoped this procession would be over soon so that he and his mother could just return to the Manor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the guests that had not joined their circle around Lucius. He hung back by himself against the wall closest to one of the exits as he observed the procession. All of his guests had arrived in dark cloaks but upon entering they had all let their hoods fall back. All but this one. As Narcissa and each one of their guests took turns sending Lucius into the afterlife, Draco kept an eye on him throughout the entire funeral. Soon though, he realized it had gone very quiet inside of the mausoleum. He turned his attention back to the other guests and saw that they were all looking at him expectantly. Narcissa pressed her silk handkerchief lightly against her eyes before she turned to Draco.

"Draco..." She gave a shaky sob. "Would you like to say a few words about your father?"

Draco sighed internally. He hadn't really prepared anything for Lucius. There was so much he wanted to say, but none of it could form into an actual sentence. He had asked the houselves to dress his father in his finest garments. Throughout the whole time of watching the elves bustle back and forth in preparation, Draco couldn't come up with a single thing to say in commemoration of his father. If ever there was a time he felt more guilty and helpless it was now. Draco looked around uneasily releasing his mother's hand and stepped forward.

"Lucius...wasn't a man from a pure-blood family, a wizard or even a Death Eater." Draco refrained from placing a hand one the edge of the casket. He summoned up a lily and placed it beside his father along with the rest. "He was simply my father, someone I deeply respected and who wanted the best for his family. He will be missed by all those who knew him best. Rest now, father, I will take care of mother in your place."

It was Narcissa's turn to step forward now and lit the candle she had chosen for him. It was tradition that each Malfoy be put to rest in the family mausoleum with a candle that would make sure their bodies wouldn't remain in eternal darkness. They were charmed to be eternally lit and to purify the spirit- that still lingered around the body even after its host's death- so that it wouldn't be in danger of turning into a poltergeist and instead peacefully join the afterlife. Each candle also had its own familiar scent related to the deceased person. It seemed only made sense that Narcissa had been the one to choose the candle to send Lucius off with. Who else would have known Lucius better than his own wife?

She gave Lucius one last pained look before gently closing the cover of the casket over him. She tapped her wand three times over the casket, murmuring a protection curse against grave robbers. Lucius was not only being buried with his silver pocket watch but also the Malfoy insignia ring. Anyone who tried to take anything from him would die an instant death. Narcissa put her handkerchief and wand away, remembering who she was and once again looked every part of the cold beauty everyone knew her for. The next person closest to Draco stepped forward to give his own words of condolences mechanically as if he were reading the words straight from a script itself.

Draco noticed the hooded guest from before already making his way up the stairs. He glanced over his shoulder and saw everyones' attention solely on the man's eulogy. He took the opportunity to follow the stranger up the steps. As he reached the top of the stairs, he was assaulted by a cool breath of wind under the bleak ashen sky. Not too far from the mausoleum was the hooded figure, taking long strides across the open field. Draco broke into a run, his feet barely making a sound on the grass beneath him as he approached the stranger. His hand slipped into his sleeve and grasped his wand tightly. He gripped the back of the figure's cloak, and pressed his wand roughly against his back.

"I don't remember handing you an invitation," Draco snarled.

The hooded figure lowered his hood and Draco released him long enough for him to turn around and face him. His normally stoic face couldn't hide the surprise in his eyes at seeing Harry Potter standing before him. He hadn't seen much of him except for occasional run-ins on the street or at charity balls, giving a curt nod or quick greeting to each other before moving on or reading about his latest conquest concerning the Ministry of Magic in The Daily Prophet.

"Potter," he said indifferently, lowering his wand after a moment of uncertainty. "What brings you here?"

A smile quirked on one side of Harry's face before it became somber once more. "Very nice. Good to hear you don't spit my name out like a curse anymore. I would've given some notice I was coming but..." Harry glanced over Draco's shoulder at the mausoleum. "I think that my being here would disturb people, especially your mother."

"You still haven't answered my question, Potter. Why are you here? I never pegged you the type to crash funerals."

"I had heard about Lucius' passing in the Prophet earlier this morning." Harry frowned deeply. "I'm sorry...I just want you to know that though your father and I never saw eye-to-eye, this isn't something I would've wished on him."

''Never saw eye-to-eye' doesn't even come close to describing how your relationship really was. He was just as much your enemy as I was.'

Draco stared crossly. "I find that hard to believe." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Even St. Potter has dark thoughts enter his mind now and then," he drawled.

"Believe what you want but I've seen too many people die," Harry whispered, turning his body slightly away from Draco.

Draco sneered. "What's another person to add to the list?"

"Listen, Malfoy," Harry said, mouth twisting into a scowl. "I wanted to come here in secret to avoid confrontations. I came to make amends not have a row with you."

"No need to sneak around. Whatever you have to say out with it."

"I suppose..." Harry trailed off as a cold breeze brushed over them and he huddled deeper into his cloak. "I would like to extend a hand of friendship."

Draco gawked at him. "Friendship? Are you mad?"

"I thought it was obvious that we could never be friends at one point. I always thought we were too different- two entirely different people with different tastes and morals...You know Ron and I are almost nothing alike but I appreciate his company none-the-less. If you don't want to be my friend, that's alright, but I think we would both at least make good allies should the wizarding world ever return to dark times."

Draco arched an eyebrow at his once rival/enemy's extended hand. It was like deja vu all over again except the roles were reversed this time ironically enough. His face twisted into a scowl as glanced back at Harry.

"Please," he scoffed, disgust lacing his every word. "I don't need a pity party."

Harry lowered his hand, frowning in confusion. "Sympathy isn't the reason I came here. I know what it's like more than anyone to hate sympathy being thrown at me left and right so believe when I say I'm here because times have changed us both. We've been through a lot. More than the old me from first year ever would have dreamed. Sometimes I wish...I could go back to when were in Hogwarts. At least during those times, there was a sense of normalcy."

"You and me trading insults? Sending hexes at each other?" Draco managed to crack a grin. "I still haven't managed to pay you back for turning me into a slug."

Harry laughed. "You know you had it coming, Malfoy. Will you accept my hand of friendship?" He tried extending his hand once more to Draco who stared at it with great uncertainty.

"...I'll think about it."

Harry drew his hand back to his side and nodded. "Good. Take all the time you'd like." He straightened up and tried to look unattached and business-like but Draco thought it didn't suit the Golden Boy somehow. If there was anyone better who had learned to shut down his emotions it was Draco. "Let me know if there's anything I can do for you and your mother."

He Disapparated without another word leaving Draco to his thoughts on top of the hill. He stared at the spot Harry had stood only moments ago. It must have taken the bloke a lot to bring himself to come here. Now that the war was over, Harry was probably living a happy life with his friends and his Weasley girlfriend. Draco supposed Scarhead enjoyed spreading his joy around. Despite there being so much free time with the war over, Draco had found nothing to feel joy over or anything he really desired to do for the past three years. After his mother and him had slowly gained approval of society again, he had been offered his father's position as governor at the schoolboard of Hogwarts. He politely rejected the offer, seeing as he knew it wasn't something he would enjoy doing. Though, he still donated money to the school since it still held a place of bittersweet nostalgia for him.

Narcissa insisted that instead of focusing entirely on work and pleasing society that he should settle down soon. She constantly said she knew several impeccable young ladies but Draco shot her down each time. Having a girlfriend was the least of his worries. If it came down to it and he still wasn't married by twenty-five, he would let his mother arrange a marriage for him. This had pleased Narcissa greatly but she warned him that all the good ones would be taken within the three years of his promise. Though, Draco had promised he would let her choose a bride for him, he wasn't too fond of thinking about whether his marriage would turn into what Lucius and Narcissa had. Though, it was never outright said, it was painfully obvious that their betrothal was a non-too-pleasant experience on both their parts.

His mother had told him that while she and his father had had a rocky marriage, she said that they had eventually grown fond of each other. It didn't help that just as they were starting to get a bit closer, Narcissa discovered he had been coveting a mistress. She claimed recently that she had only truly loved Draco's father for one moment- the moment that he had begged Voldemort to stop the battle so that he and Narcissa could go search for their son. Narcissa said that it was unlikely that she would ever remarry and rather than remember her mostly horrid marriage with Lucius, she would rather remember him as he was during their short time together after Voldemort was defeated.

"Draco!" Draco swiveled his head in his mother's direction who stood at the entrance of the Malfoy crypt with the Malfoy clan standing behind her. She adjusted her shawl as the wind picked up. "Draco, we're heading back to the manor for the memorial. Won't you join us?"

Draco's instant thought was too kindly reply 'no thanks' that he was tired, but one look at his mother's quivering lip and he knew he was a goner. He nodded his acquiescence as he started down the hill after his family, deciding to forget his strange encounter with Harry Potter for the time being. Once he reached his mother, he allowed her to slip her arm into his as they started in the direction of the Manor several yards away from the crypt. They entered the black iron gates and once inside the Manor, Narcissa turned to face her family solemnly.

"Please go on ahead to the dining hall and help yourselves to whatever you like. I must have a word alone with my son."

They didn't argue as they all walked down the dark corridor and disappeared from sight. Blaise, Astoria and Goyle looked hesitant but one nod from Draco to go and they excused themselves. Draco raised an eyebrow in question when Narcissa stepped closer and began digging through her purse. She pulled out a rolled up parchment tied with black ribbon with a green waxed symbol that could only be depicted as the Malfoy crest.

"This arrived earlier today. I would have given it to you sooner but with your father's funeral..." Narcissa sighed. "It just wasn't the best time."

Draco took the letter from her and simply stared at it. "Who's it from?"

"Your half-brother."

Draco's eyes widened a fraction. "A-alaric?" he stammered.

"Well, he is the only brother you have." Narcissa sighed. "It could only be that he heard of your father's passing. Do what you like with it but his owl seemed awfully persistent that it be delivered to the Manor. Wouldn't stop its infernal pecking at my window this morning." Narcissa began slipping off her shawl and immediately Wimzy, one of their houselves, ran forward to collect it from her mistress. "It's been a long day so I won't force you to come to the memorial. I'll go entertain the guests. I'll tell them you felt ill and retired to your room." She placed a hand on Draco's arm. "One more thing. Before your father died, he told me to give this to you."

Narcissa pressed something small and cold into his hand. Draco nodded as his mother disappeared down the hallway. He opened his hand to reveal a Malfoy insignia ring identical to his father's. He stared at it for a moment before slipping it onto the index finger of his right hand. Just as he turned to head for the stairs, he caught sight of Wimzy hanging his mother's shawl on a coat rack.

"Wimzy."

The elf jumped and turned around to face Draco, straightening her back in attention. "Y-yes, master?"

"Prepare some tea and bring it to my room."

"Right Away, master."

Draco watched the elf scuttle off, before he ascended the flight of stairs up to his bedroom. Upon entering his room, he made a fire with his wand and sat in the master's chair with the letter in hand. Alaric. What could he possibly want with him after six years of having heard no word from him. Draco's first thought was to toss the letter into the fire, but he couldn't hide the fact that he was deeply intrigued. After a few moments of indecision, Draco couldn't satiate his curiosity and cracked the seal open. Inside was the familiar spidery handwriting that could only belong to Alaric.

Dear Draco,

I know this may come as a shock to you. Father and you must have thought I was dead all these years. It's doubtful that you're interested in my whereabouts since I was kicked out of home at fifteen so I'll save you the boring details. I have heard about our father's passing. I was shocked. I must speak frankly, I wasn't angry at father for disowning me or refusing to accept my then half-blood girlfriend, which by the way didn't work out...as most first loves don't. Never did believe in school sweethearts or anything of the sort.

I remember that the day father sent me packing, he said he would have preferred the Hufflepuff girl I had taken the year before to the Yule Ball. He said that at least she was Pureblood. It's all so funny now that I think about it. Even though things didn't work out between me and my then girlfriend, I became my own man when I left home. I had the best time of my life living a life that was finally my own. Still, I wish I could have made up with father, and I regret the lost time without my only brother. There's so much I'd like to catch up on. In the event of our father's death, the only thing I ask from the Malfoys is my brother back. I would like you to come visit me instead since I doubt Narcissa would be pleased to see me show up in your home.

I live in Surrey, London. Yes, a Muggle community, but I think you'd quite like it here, Draco. You never know. You might find yourself a cute witch or muggle girlfriend here. I always thought you needed a woman. With the war over, I'm sure you can find someone who can make you as happy as I am right now. My girlfriend is simply adorable, Draco. I've only known her a few months but already I feel closer to her than I ever was with anyone. She's a year older than me and attended school with you at Hogwarts. Perhaps you know one another. It's a small world after all as the muggle saying goes. I hope when I'm confident enough to propose to her, I can introduce her to you. I just hope that one day you get to know what it feels like to love someone so fully.

Sincerely Alaric,

Draco placed the letter on the table before him. Visiting Alaric was out of the question. There was too much to be taken care of here at the Malfoy Manor and with the wizarding society in general. If Alaric wanted a visit, it must be instigated by him and not Draco. He wouldn't even know how to handle himself if he were to step into a muggle community. It was simply best that he stayed here to take care of his mother and other important duties at the ministry. Still, he didn't fancy the idea of leaving Alaric's letter unanswered. He levitated parchment, an ink pot and quill pen before him. The pen began writing frantically across the parchment of its own accord.

Dear Alaric,

It certainly is a surprise to hear from you. Not entirely unpleasant but surprising nonetheless. It's good to hear that you're getting along well where you're living. Don't fret over me, I can handle my own affairs. I didn't exactly come back a war hero so there's much for me to atone for. It has to be done by me alone or else I can never redeem myself in the wizarding world. I plan on hosting many charity events for orphaned wizards and witches. If you would ever like to attend, by all means, go ahead. As for my love life, I'm content with the way things are. I have far too much going on to be even thinking of having a relationship or traveling into a muggle community. My deepest apologies. I'm not the same man you once knew. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to owl me.

Sincerely, Draco

Draco rolled the parchment up into black ribbon and poured some green wax over it, pressing the Malfoy crest over it with a stamp. He heard soft rapping at his door and called for the visitor to enter. Wimzy gently opened the door and stuck her head in. She carried the tray of tea firmly in both hands, smiling meekly at Draco as she set it down on the table before him. She placed a tea cup on a tiny plate, lifting it one hand as she poured Early Grey tea into it. Wimzy held it out for Draco to take. He took it in both hands and murmured his thanks. Just as Wimzy was about to get up to leave, Draco rose a hand to stop her. He held out the letter intended for Alaric.

"Owl this letter for me. Be sure it gets delivered."

Wimzy nodded as she accepted the letter. "Wimzy will do so, sir."

She padded across his room quietly and shut the door behind her. Draco leaned back in his chair, taking steady sips of his hot tea. He sighed a long sigh- the sigh that had been endlessly aching to be released from his confining chest. He stared up at the ceiling, watching the shadow of the flames from the fireplace dance across it. He couldn't ever have imagined that that would be one of the last few fateful letters he would owl Alaric in a while. He couldn't have known of the tragedy awaiting him so soon after his father's death...

~Three Months Later~

'How do the damned rise up once more?' That's a question that Draco himself would very much like to know as he stared broodingly out his bedroom window. Everyday there seemed to be a dark cloud hovering over the Malfoy mansion since he had discovered Alaric's death. At first Draco could hardly trifle himself with a visit with his estranged and blood traitor of a half-brother, but he had been most intrigued with the most recent letter he had received from him one not so special day. The letter was rather shorter than his previous letters and Draco couldn't help but notice a hint of desperation within it. That was all Draco needed to take a trip to Surrey. Upon arriving at Alaric's flat, he had discovered his brother lying stone cold on the floor of his living room.

He had been clutching a goblet of wine with an open journal laid out next to him. Photos all around him had been burnt and only ash remained. Draco could scarcely believe the things written in the red leather-bound journal. There were things that shook him to the core; things about Lucius and Alaric's biological mother with words filled with so much hate and anguish. There were even some things about how he regretted his lost time with Draco. That was only the first half that the journal was dedicated to. The other was surprisingly much more cheerful. Draco almost felt embarrassed to read it. It involved affectionate and intimate thoughts of a girl that Alaric seemed to be deeply infatuated with. The last page was what greatly surprised and disturbed Draco.

I have struggled in vain to gain your affections. Why can't you see how much I love you? I would do anything for you. Since you have asked me to go die...I will now do as you wish.

This greatly baffled Draco. Why would his brother kill himself over a woman? It was simply ludicrous. Since the day of his tragic discovery, Draco became obsessed with his brother's journal. For days on end, he locked himself up in his room, making others around him start to think that he had gone mad, especially his mother. Perhaps a part of him really had. He spent loads of his time reading and rereading the diary, sulking over the brother he had known so well and not known at all it seemed. At times he was overcome with so much guilt for not answering most of his brother's letters when he should have. There might have been a chance...even in the slightest that he could have been saved.

Draco had held a small memorial for Alaric since the only real family he had left was himself. He invited the people he had found in Alaric's address book, conversing with them during the memorial for Alaric's sake. He wasn't able to contact Alaric's birth mother, knowing that she might not even be alive anymore or residing within the country. As it turned out, Alaric's friends mostly consisted of muggles so Draco didn't perform the regular wizard burial traditions. But at the same time he was unwilling to have him buried in a muggle cemetery. He wanted his brother somewhere close- somewhere that held great meaning to the both of them. He took him to that special place and buried him- the muggle way, knowing that Alaric would have wanted it that way.

Today was a not so special day just like any other with Draco sitting by the fire in his cushioned armchair. He was reading the last page of Alaric's diary before snapping it shut with a snarl. He hurled the book savagely at the wall, making the book shelf topple over. Draco turned away, restlessly running a hand through his flaxen tendrils. He thought to leave the room to get his mind off of things, but he caught sight of something sticking out of the diary out of the corner of his eye. He bent down to retrieve it. It was completely white except for the words Forever and Always. He flipped the picture over to reveal none other than Hermione Granger smiling back at him.

Draco dropped the picture in his shock. The image settled into his bloodstream; bubbling and boiling so much that he thought he would die with so much hate in his veins. He had never given a thought to what Alaric's so-called lover had been like. 'What did it matter what she was like or even what she looked like?' he had thought. He already knew enough; whoever she was, she was a seductive, manipulating little bitch who had her hooks so deep in Alaric that she could make him end his own life at one simple command. But never...never would he have guessed that the seductive, manipulating little bitch would be Hermione Granger; brightest witch of our age, friend to Harry Potter, and over all goody goody.

The picture- clearly muggle as it was unmoving- stared back at him, taunting him from its place on the polished floorboards. Draco swiped it up and held it at eye-level. Hermione was wearing a lilac sundress, and her hair was worn loose with her curls whipping about her. She was perched on an oak tree with both hands clutching a branch on either side of her to steady herself. The sun light filtered in through the leaves above her, creating spots of light on her skin here and there. She smiled widely as she looked at the camera, undoubtedly taken by Alaric himself seeing as Draco remembered the strange wizard being into muggle hobbies like photography and painting.

Fate really must have had it out for him. The situation was all too ironic. His enemy from his Hogwarts days had caused his half-brother to meet his end. Draco had rarely seen or heard of her save for in The Daily Prophet or occasional run-ins he had with the Golden Trio. Now she turned up unwanted once again in his life. She represented everything he had been raised to hate for over half his life. His opinion of her had been colored before he had ever met her. But now he really did have a reason to hate her. Right now nothing could compare to the sweet release he would have in wrapping his hands around Hermione's throat- to relish the fear in her eyes as the life slowly left them.

Briefly, he wondered what her best friend and lover would think if they knew just how far Hermione had fallen. Draco levitated the picture so that it now floated inches from the wall. Mumbling a spell, he summoned up a dagger with his wand. He threw it at the picture, pinning it effectively to the wall where Hermione's forehead was. Draco walked over to the photo, feeling a slow, warped smile creep over his features. He knew exactly what to do with her.

London, England

It was the same atmosphere here at Warwick Hospital- white walls, sparkling linoleum floor and that sterile scent- that every hospital seemed to have. Hermione walked down a hall, smiling at the passing doctors and nurses who had become accustomed to seeing her visit everyday. Hermione turned the knob of the hospital room and was greeted by the sight of her father fast asleep on the couch. He wore the same clothes as the day before, wrinkled and hair mussed up, mouth parted slightly as his chest heaved. Her mother was reclined back in the hospital bed silently watching t.v. Hermione smiled as she slipped into the room. Delia turned her head slowly and smiled at her daughter. She tried to sit up but Hermione quickly placed a hand on her shoulder and gently pressed her back down. Her father drowsily opened his eyes, rubbing them as he sat up sharply.

"No need to get up, dad."

Hermione opened her beaded purse to reveal a plastic Tupperware container and a thermos. "Look what I've brought. I made you chicken noodle soup like you used to make me when I was sick. I also packed in ginger ale and crackers and lemon pudding." Her mother merely smiled at her. "Oh! And look, the latest issue of that magazine you subscribed to."

"Sweetheart, you're an angel," she whispered.

Hermione's eyes widened and she shook her head, smiling as she did so, her curls bouncing against her cheeks. "Oh, mum, it was nothing. Just get better for us, please." She couldn't ignore the slight desperation in her own tone as she said pleaded with her mother.

She turned around to pop the cap off of the thermos. She slipped a silver packet out of her bag and promptly dumped its contents into the ginger ale. The powdered magical herbs were tasteless so her mom would never notice anything out of the ordinary. It had been starting to become a routine for her to do this. It was forbidden for muggles to partake in potions, but Hermione couldn't hold herself up to keeping up with rules anymore. This was her mother and she would try every way she could to make her well again. The powdered potion didn't last long. It was something that kept the pain at bay for a time- like an energy boost but the pain never stayed away for long. Still, it was all Hermione could think of to do for her mother. She knew the packet would allow her to be well enough to go home for about a week or so. She understood how trapped her mother must feel being cooped up in the hospital all the time.

"Hermione."

Hermione glanced over her shoulder nervously, thinking that she had been caught. Her father had a somber expression on his face but he wasn't looking at her. Instead he was staring at the floor as if hoping the secrets of the worlds would rise up before him.

"Yes, dad?"

"I'm sorry about all this. If we hadn't lost our jobs, we would never be in this mess." Ben rubbed his temples and Hermione saw that he looked like he had aged dramatically since she had last saw him. "We got behind on payments, almost lost the house. Then that loan shark had to come lurking by. You said he was a wizard, right?"

Hermione nodded. "It's not your fault. Soon everything will be fixed and we can go back to our old lives."

"I do miss professionally cleaning people's teeth." Ben grinned, a bit of light returning to his sharp hazel eyes. He placed his hands on knees as leverage to get up, grunting as he did so. He grabbed the Tupperware of chicken soup. "I'll just make myself useful and go down the hall to heat this up. Be back in a jiff."

Hermione nodded, watching him as he crossed the room and closed the door behind him. She turned around to face her mother with the ginger ale in hand. She sat in bed beside her mother, and gently wrapped an arm around her to help her sit up and drink the potion. Her mother took weak sips, both hands clutching the thermos shakily. Hermione had clasped her hands over hers to steady her grip as she drank.

"Please, mum. You have to drink all of it." Hermione quickly came up with an excuse. "Remember what you always say. A shame to let good food and drinks go to waste."

Her mother chuckled lightly and she took somewhat bigger swallows. Hermione took the cup away and saw that there was still more than half left over.

"Promise you will finish later, alright?"

"I will, dear." She placed her hand over Hermione's. "But I need you to promise me something first."

"Anything," Hermione said, staring earnestly into her mother's honey-colored eyes.

"When I leave this world...I would like a big party held at my funeral."

"What? You-

She placed a finger delicately over Hermione's lips. "Please, let me finish. I want there to be lots of food, singing and dancing. I want everyone to wear bright colors," she breathed. "And...I don't want anyone to be crying for me. Not one tear. You understand?"

Hermione felt her eyes well up with unshed tears, but she closed her eyes and willed them to seep back into the bowels of her heart where they belonged.

"Mum, it's OK," she insisted, gripping her mother's hands in hers'. Hermione had never noticed just how small and fragile they were. "It's alright, you're going to be fine."

Delia smiled at her, squeezing her hand gently as if Hermione were the patient and not the other way around. "Yes, everything will be just fine. But enough about me, sweetheart. I want to know how you and Ronald are doing. It's been quite a while since you've mentioned him and even longer since your father and I have last seen him."

"We're good." Hermione glanced down at the floor, unable to hide her smile. "We're very happy together. I'll bring Ron with me next time I visit. Promise."

"Are you really happy with him?" Delia asked. "Truly?" she pressed.

"Yes, mum." Hermione laughed. "My answer will never change. I'll always love Ron."

Delia looked thoughtful as she played with the ends of her bone straight ash blonde hair. "Sorry if I seem too nosy." She pouted. "I just want my only daughter to be happy, and I want the man she spends the rest of her life with to love her in the best way she deserves. You can't just follow your heart because sometimes it can be so misleading. Now, don't get me wrong," she said, holding her hand up when she saw Hermione opening her mouth to speak. "I like Ronald. He's a good young man and I'd adore having him as my son-in-law, but I just want you to be sure you're really in love. It is the most abused word in the human language, after all. People fall in and out of love everyday, tossing the word around without care."

She grabbed both of Hermione's hands in hers and stared beseechingly into her eyes. "You have little experience with men, darling. Ronald is only your second boyfriend, and as sad as it may be, most don't find their true love after the first few times. You're a sweet, beautiful and intelligent young woman and I trust that you'll choose the right man for you someday." She played with the band of her golden wedding ring, a smile playing at her pink seashell lips. "Many people never get the one they want...but somehow they end up with the one they're supposed to have."

"I want what you and dad have," Hermione murmured, eyes wide and sincere. "I have never seen anyone more in love with each other than you two. I love Ron so much and hope our love can mature enough to be like yours."

"You don't have to look to us as an example." Delia chuckled, smoothing her hand over Hermione's unruly curls. "Or mirror us. Everyone is different. I used to look at my own mum and dad's marriage as an example of love. My mum had the worst temper and she would take out her frustration on the world by throwing plates at the wall after a long day of work sometimes. And you know what my father did?" Hermione shook her head, giggling as she tried to picture the whole scenario unfolding in front of her. "My father was right there beside her...handing her those plates," she said matter-of-factly.

Hermione let go of Delia's hands to smother her own laughter. Delia's face softened as she stared up at her daughter with so much love that it nearly broke Hermione's heart and she stopped laughing.

"It's good to hear you laugh, dear. Do it more often for me and please take what I've said to heart."

Hermione smiled. "I will." The alarm in her watch suddenly went off like crazy and Hermione groaned. She turned around when she heard the door open, and her father stepped in with the heated chicken noodle soup. Her father rose an eyebrow at her as he crossed the room to set the soup on his wife's tray. Hermione pressed a button to turn off the alarm, biting her lip and gave her parents an apologetic look. "Pansy," she explained.

"Ah," Ben said bitterly, shoving his hands into his pockets as he leaned against the wall beside Delia's bed. "That woman's not overworking you, is she?"

"Not at all, Dad. Pansy treats me very well and pays me fairly each week." Hermione stood on tip-toe to kiss her dad on the cheek before she leaned over her mother to peck her forehead. "Love you both, I'll see you guys soon."

She whipped her wand out of her bag and Disapparated to Pansy's manor. She unbuttoned her coat and smiled at the elf who offered to hang it up for her. She declined politely, seeing as how she abhorred elves serving anyone and because the coat rack was only about a foot away from her. She made her way into the impressively large kitchen, and began getting out the necessary ingredients for an omelet. Lately, Pansy had taken an interest in trying muggle food so now Hermione had to cook her a different muggle meal each day the muggle way just like all her tasks in this mansion had to be done.

"Hermione, I need you!"

Hermione inwardly groaned. Not two minutes in the manor and Pansy already needed her for something. Now she used the word 'need' extremely loosely since Pansy herself didn't actually know the difference between want and need. It was usually the former that she requested rather than the latter. It was more than just a bit annoying to be attending to Pansy since it was a twenty-four job. Hermione only had a day off out of the week to herself and even then, Pansy would randomly owl her in the middle of the night for her to come over and make her do so something as redundant as fixing her a midnight snack. Hermione glanced at her watch. There wasn't much time left until she she met up with Ron for breakfast. If she could wait for her breakfast then the little princess herself upstairs could wait a bit as well.

She hummed to herself as she started chopping parsley, basil leaves and scallions. She poured them into a meta bowl, rapidly stirring four eggs in as well. Still mixing the omelet batter, she exited the kitchen to walk up the marble staircase, taking two steps at a time when she heard Pansy calling her name again. Hermione made it to the landing and walked down a long, dim hallway. At the end of the hall was light pouring in through a wide open door. Hermione peered inside to find a gussied up Pansy standing in front of her bed looking puzzled. She had a hand under her chin as she stared down at a lavender and pink dress spread neatly across her four poster bed.

"You rang?" Hermione asked, trying not to sound too sour.

"Yes, I'll be attending a business party and I want your opinion on which dress I should take."

"Well, what sort of look are you going for?"

Pansy twirled a lock of her ebony hair as she thought about it. "Something cute but not childish. Elegant but nothing that says I'm trying too hard."

Hermione wrinkled her nose as she stepped closer to inspect the dresses. "You want me to tell you honestly?

"Obviously, I want a straight answer, Granger or else I wouldn't have bothered to ask for a second opinion," Pansy said tartly, placing her hands on her narrow hips.

"Neither." Hermione opened Pansy's walk-in closet and instantly the rack of clothes began revolving. She reached out a hand to grab a silky baby blue number. The short frilly sleeves would drape over the shoulders with white ribbon criss-crossing over them, and a hem line would flare out just above her knees and trail behind her just above her ankles. "I think you should try this one."

Pansy inspected the dress. "I haven't worn this dress before. I can't believe I had forgotten about it." She smiled at Hermione. "Thanks, you're a genius. If you weren't already working for me, I would consider hiring you to be my assistant in fashion design."

"Anything else you'll be needing?"

"Yes, I want you to pick up some groceries, send this dress," Pansy said, pointing to the dress Hermione had helped her pick out, "to the wizard dry-cleaners, do my laundry and tidy up my room." She grinned stupidly. "And that should be all for the day, I think."

"Actually, when I said if you needed anything, I meant like opinions on shoes or adding something more to your breakfast." Hermione gestured at the metal bowl of well-mixed omelet batter. "I have to go meet Ron for breakfast, go do some paperwork at the Ministry and go to my third job at Flourish and Blotts. Then I'm heading to the Burrow. It's Ginny's birthday party today, remember? I've been reminding you for days so you wouldn't arrange any big tasks for me when the day finally came."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Oh, that's right, how could I forget you had prearranged plans with the Weazlette."

Hermione was about to retort when she suddenly heard her cell phone ringing.

"If that's all you need, I'll be going. Your breakfast will be ready soon."

She exited the room, closing the door behind her before Pansy could say another word. She flipped the phone open as she descended the marble stair case, averting her eyes away from portrait upon portrait of either Pansy or her family members that lined the wall. They were all quite an interesting-looking bunch to say the least. Her gaze wandered to the jade green and bluebell flower-patterned wallpaper. Strange family but remarkably good taste. Maybe when she had time, she'd ask Pansy to help her remodel her flat.

"Hey, Harry."

"Hey, what're you up to?

Hermione walked into the kitchen and placed a spoonful of vegetable oil on the pan. She watched as it danced and fizzled across the pan's flat surface before adding a good amount of batter onto it.

"Nothing much. Just fixing up breakfast," she said, placing her cell phone inbetween her ear and neck. She turned over the omelet once she was sure her cell phone was in no danger of falling.

"For Pansy," Harry said flatly. It came out more of a statement than question. Hermione winced.

"Yeah...I am."

Harry sighed. "Hermione, for the hundredth time, please let me pay for all the debts. I don't like you working over there."

"No," she said quickly. "It's fine, you don't have to worry about me."

"You know I'll pay for all the debts and find you somewhere cheaper to live. You would even be welcome at my place if you like."

It was Hermione's turn to sigh. "I know you can, and just the thought alone makes me so thankful but I can't burden you like that, Harry." Before Harry could say anything else, she quickly added, "I promise it won't last much longer. I'm almost done repaying my dad's debts to Pansy."

"So stubborn, just like Ron." Harry sighed. He chuckled quietly after a moment. "No wonder you guys are so good together."

Hermione smiled at that. "Thank you, Harry. Putting me aside, are you ready for tonight?

"Ready as I'll ever be." Harry's breath sounded uneven over the phone. "I think Ginny's will fancy the engagement ring I got for her."

"I should hope so, I helped you pick it out, after all," Hermione said, flipping the omelet once more before placing it on a plate. She set it down on the counter and poured some orange juice in a glass.

Harry laughed lightly. "Yeah, thanks for that. I'm so lost when it comes to stuff like this," he admitted sheepishly.

"It's cute watching you get all shy like this, Harry Potter." Hermione giggled. "Ginny will love it, don't you worry."

"Think so?"

"Know so. I'll see you tonight. I have to go meet Ron for breakfast right now and then head to work."

"Alright, see you."

"Bye."

Hermione shoved her cell phone into her pocket and turned around, jumping back in surprise when she saw Pansy leaning against the doorway. She was dressed in the gown Hermione had picked out for her with her hair pulled back half-way and curled at the tips. She was inspecting her French manicured nails with disinterest.

"Why did you lie to him like that?"

Hermione's eyes widened before turning away to untie her apron. She hung it on a hook on the wall closest to her. "I don't like having Harry worry about me all the time."

Pansy nodded, turning her eyes away awkwardly. "So Potter is getting engaged, is he? To the Weazlette I presume?"

"Yeah, he's proposing to Ginny tonight." Hermione's eyes sparkled with joy for her friend. "I can't wait to see the look on Ginny's face when he finally does."

"Lucky girl, she is. She can finally move out of the Burrow and into somewhere that doesn't smell like a bird's nest."

Pansy had become nice over the years...well about as nice as she could get. She didn't openly toss the whole blood or status thing in Hermione and Ginny's face when she came by. Sometimes she'd let casual comments like that slip out without thinking. Despite those slips, she could actually be quite understanding when it came to Hermione's other two jobs, family and friends.

"This smells really good," Pansy said, grinning as she stepped closer to omelet on the counter. She pouted after a moment. "I should've asked you to make me a few more of these. Oh, well, if you're in a hurry to go see your boyfriend, I won't keep you. I'll have one of the houselves prepare me a couple more." Pansy smiled mischievously. "I have to admit, you two make a cute couple. I'm sure it won't be long before he makes his own proposal to you."

Hermione blushed. "Oh, I don't think so."

"Think about it. You both have been going out for what, five years? And he tells you to meet him first thing in the morning saying he has something important to tell you." Pansy danced out of the kitchen humming the wedding march. "I hear wedding bells over the horizon," she said in a sing-song voice. She paused at the kitchen's threshold stiffly. "By the way, if Alaric calls, tell him I moved or something for me."

Hermione gawked. "You're avoiding him? But I thought you both were getting along so well."

"We lacked a certain..." Pansy trailed off as she tried to think of the right word and snapped her fingers for the effect. "...spark. You can't have a relationship work without that spark."

Hermione sighed. "I refuse to lie to Alaric. He's such a nice guy."

"Then you go out with him."

Hermione was startled by her casual suggestion. "You know I have Ron. Why would you even suggest that?" She placed a hand on her hip and eyed her warily. "What was all that rubbish before about me and him being a cute couple?"

Pansy giggled. "I'm just teasing. Alright, then, if you happen to see him just tell him I'm unavailable right now and I'll owl him if I get the chance."

She sashayed out of the kitchen before Hermione could so much as protest. Hermione placed her hand on her temple, shaking her head sympathetically for Alaric. But a smile played at her lips at Pansy's previous words. Her cheeks turned a bit pink at the thought. She and Ron had never discussed marriage before. It had just never come up in a conversation before. She bit her lip, unable to keep a large smile off her face as she gathered her things and Disapparated from Pansy's manor. Hermione appeared in front of a diner within Diagon Alley. It was the usual place she and Ron met up. It was a quaint little place where none of the reporters would bother them. She sat at their usual table by the window. She checked her watch; she had arrived with a few minutes to spare. Good. At least she was still punctual...not to mention immensely hungry right now.

Hermione looked over the menu before choosing to order two pancakes with a side of hash browns and pumpkin juice. The quill pen wrote everything down in a frenzy on a notepad and the waitress promised to have her food ready soon. Hermione brought out one of her favorite classic novels to read in the mean time. She flipped the book open to where she had left her bookmark. What with having to pay Pansy's debt she rarely had the time to buy any new books- much less with her two other jobs. Hermione had been focusing on her muggle education in college before the debt matter ever started up. She had expressed desires to become a muggle doctor, but now everything in her life had been put on hold indefinitely.

That included her second career choice of becoming an Auror along with Harry. It was a long, strenuous process to become an Auror and for the past five months of her servitude, she had hardly had any time at all to properly study in preparation for the Auror exam. Even with having the rest of the day off, Hermione doubted that she would be able to go take the exam and ace it. Right now she didn't feel like the brightest witch she was known for. If only she could have a short time off from Pansy so she could have some real time off to hit the books. It was far less than likely. Hermione sighed as she stared down at her empty hands, feeling her heart lodge up in her throat.

They were hands that should have made a lot more progress by now. If she were to have the position of an Auror, within a few more months she would without a doubt be able to repay the remaining sum of her father's debt. With what she made right now off of Pansy, her job at Flourish and Blotts and her job at a muggle cafe combined were partly spent to repay the debt, to buy herself some groceries and other necessities while also paying for half of the hospital bill with her father. At this rate, she would never be able to pay off her father's debt. Ben had wanted to give his own fair share, declaring it was all his fault he had gotten her and her mother into all this mess in the first place.

Hermione had told him that the money he earned from his new job as a theater usher was meant solely for paying her mother's hospital bill, and other necessities that he and her mother needed while they were at home together. She remembered smiling at him and telling him to take care of her mother while she took care of the rest. It was always seemed like she never getting any closer to repaying all of the money her father had borrowed from Pansy's father, Padriac Parkinson. What business did a snotty pureblood who obviously hates muggles even be doing in a muggle community? And acting as a loan shark no less? Pansy had later told her that it was a publicity stunt he did so his family could gain recognition for 'loving muggles' after previously being involved with Death Eaters. She claimed that Padriac needed this in order to give himself and his family a good name, and to also give him a chance to mess with a Harry Potter's mudblood friend's muggle parents without having to resort to anything illegal. Of course Rita Skeeter was involved to make the situation seem more generous than it actually was.

Ron was completely understanding about her whole situation, but only because Hermione had exaggerated the truth quite a bit. She made Harry promise her that he would never tell Ron what was really going on. Knowing him he would explode and waltz straight up to Pansy's father and make things a lot worse than they were. Hermione chose to tell Ron that she and Pansy had run into each other and had become reacquainted despite their Hogwarts past, becoming friends rather quickly after Hermione spoke to her over a butterbeer about how she had chosen to drop out of college in order to take care of her sick mother but couldn't find a good paying job. She had explained that Pansy had kindly offered her a job as her housekeeper.

Ron had been miffed at first that she was cleaning an old enemy's house but Hermione assured him that she liked housework and that Pansy and her were on better terms than they ever were at Hogwarts. Speak of the devil. Hermione put her book aside when she saw her boyfriend walking in through the door. She smiled, unconsciously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as he approached the table. He slid in across from her, looking quite tired by the look of the large bags beneath his blue eyes. Hermione's gaze strayed from the eyes she was so fond of to his bed-head. She lifted a hand to her mouth, pretending to clean it with a napkin, all the while trying to hide her smile. His bed-heads were adorable.

"Good morning."

"Morning," Ron mumbled.

Hermione frowned. "I see you didn't get enough sleep."

"Huh?" Ron's head jolted up distractedly. "Yeah, I have to stop staying up so late."

"What do you do so late at night?" Hermione asked, leaning forward with interest as she tucked her fists under her chin.

Ron shrugged. "Anything, everything. I'm usually the only one awake after my family goes to sleep. There's just always so much on my mind and it prevents me from sleeping much."

"I see. That's new to me, I have never heard you mention being an insomniac before." When Ron didn't reply, Hermione bit her lip in confusion and decided to change the subject for him. It obviously was something he didn't want to talk about. "Well, so um...you hungry?" she asked lamely.

"Nah, I ate before I came."

The waitress arrived carrying Hermione's order and set it down in front of her. Hermione thanked her and took a few sips of her pumpkin juice.

Hermione blinked at Ron who was fingering the menu with a bland expression. "Are you sure you're not hungry? You could have something off of my plate if you'd like."

"I'm fine," Ron said tersely.

Hermione sat straight up, looking at him with a lost expression. "Is something wrong? I mean, besides you not getting any sleep."

"...There's just something I have to talk to you about and I don't think I can put it off anymore." Ron sighed as he rubbed an eye with the back of his hand, looking quite pained as he did so. "This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Please find it in you to forgive me."

Hermione could hardly breathe. Both of her hands gripped her knees tightly. "Ronald, you're scaring me. What's going on?"

Ron reached over and gently took her hand in his, squeezing it tightly. "I've been feeling this way for a few months now and I can't just shake it off. I thought it would go away but now I see that we've grown apart. I think it's time we took some time off from each other."

"You...want to break up?" Hermione asked slowly, staring at their intertwined hands in disbelief. "But..." Suddenly she couldn't breathe properly and felt her chest constrict painfully. "I-I know that I've been very busy, Ron b-but I'll make time for you, I promise."

Ron shook his head. "It's not that...well, apart of it is but the bigger problem is that I just can't see us together anymore."

Hermione slumped against the booth, her face like stone as she stared out the window. "So you just woke up one morning and decided you didn't love me anymore?"

"It's been a steady progress. I can't help how I feel, 'Mione," Ron explained, sighing, running his hand through his red tresses. "I thought it was just a phase but the feeling never went away...I'm really sorry." When she turned to look at Ron, she knew he meant it. Most don't mean it at all when they apologize but the way he was looking at her now with all the hard lines on his face going soft, his chin jutting out as if to justify himself- she knew he regretted ever hurting her.

Hermione felt tears prickling in her eyes. She looked away from Ron again, clenching her eyes shut. "I...I think I deserve better than this. I really do. Aren't you even going to give me the chance to help make this work?"

Ron squeezed her hand again as if he hoped he was transferring some of his strength to her. "I think you've tried...I've tried. We've both tried to make this work out. There's only so much we can do but even love has limits." He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it chastely. "You're the brightest witch I've ever met. Surely, you must have also known for a while now that things haven't exactly been going well for us."

It was true. Hermione had felt it half-way through working with Pansy and her other two jobs that she was wearing through Ron's patience. But she had foolishly been hoping that he had been coping with it, and was supporting her even though they could rarely see each other. When Hermione finally opened her eyes to meet Ron's steady gaze, she felt very close to tears all over again. The look in his eyes were so full of anguish and worst of all...sympathy. She tore her hand from his and willed her tears to disappear, pointedly avoiding his gaze once again.

"Just- just tell me something. Please be honest with me," she implored, her voice cracking. "Are you...are you in love with someone else?"

Ron's eyes widened. "No," he said instantly, face incredulous as he watched her. "Hermione, I would never never leave you just to be with someone else. You mean so much to me. No other woman could ever begin to compare with you. The bloke who winds up with you is going to be extremely lucky to have you in his life."

'I always wished you'd be that bloke...'

"Thank you, Ron." She looked up at him after a moment of trying to regain her composure. "Thank you for being honest with me, I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. Well...I should be going." She busied herself with collecting her purse as she stood up. "If that's everything you came to tell me, I need to be heading to work soon."

Ron's hand shot out to stop her. "'Mione, I don't want things weird between us. I still want to be friends. But if you don't feel the same way then that's fine too. I'll respect your decision no matter what." He smiled sadly at her. "If you'd rather not be friends with me at all, could I at least have one last hug?"

"Don't be silly. We're still friends." Hermione smiled back, the light not quite reaching her water-filled eyes. "We'll still get to hug all the time."

"Yeah...yeah, that's right," Ron murmured as if trying to convince himself it was true as well.

Ron stood up and pulled her close to him, his arms winding around her waist. Hermione's arms stiffly went around his lanky frame as she stared numbly over his shoulder at a happy couple who had just walked into the cafe. A moment ago she probably would have thought that she and Ron had resembled them. What a fool she was. She remembered her mother's words about not trying to mirror her parents and now she would never go through that notion at all anymore. She swallowed hard and resisted the urge to cry. How stupid of her to think that Ron would be able to endure her busy life. Any man would get impatient. Hermione ducked her head as Ron pulled away. He couldn't let her see how horrible she looked right now.

I'll erm- see you at Ginny's party tonight. You're going, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

Hermione watched Ron walk out of the diner with the gnawing, painful feeling that he was walking out of her life entirely. At the back of her mind, she knew nothing would ever be the same again after today. After a moment, she wiped her tears and tried to look as calm and composed as she had when she had first walked into the diner. The waitress who had been coming to give the bill to Hermione, stood hesitantly on the sidelines and had watched their exchange awkwardly. She gave Hermione a look of pity and it made Hermione feel as rotten as she must've looked. It was almost enough to have her in tears all over again. She rifled through her pocket and set some galleons on the table.

She buttoned up her coat and tossed her scarf around her neck, braving the cold, autumn wind as she stepped outside. As soon as Hermione left the cafe, she found the nearest alley and Disapparated to her flat. She slipped her scarf off and dropped it on the floor, removing the rest of her clothes as she walked toward the bathroom. Her coat soon followed as well as her blouse, skirt, bra, knickers and heels. Hermione reached the bathroom and turned the tap on, sitting on the edge of the tub waiting for the water to heat up and fill up the tub. She sighed as she laid her head against the edge. After a long moment of watching the tub fill up, she finally allowed the first tears to fall. She felt so cold. She couldn't remember the last time she had ever felt like this. It felt like a Dementor had just sucked her soul out; leaving her feel like she'd never have another happy thought left in the world.

Hermione caught sight of her back in the mirror. Her spine seemed to stick out more than usual, revealing the weak woman that she truly was beneath all her hair and skin; beneath the armor she tried so hard to hold up all the time. Ron had been her one weakness. He had been her first love and she had always wanted him to be her last. Holding herself with one arm as she glanced once more over her shoulder to stare at her reflection, Hermione couldn't deny the truth when it was staring so bluntly at her. She turned away with a choked sob as she sank beneath the water. She blindly reached for the soap and began scrubbing herself as if it would scrub away all her imperfections, unable to stop more tears from falling. She scrunched her eyes shut, trying to return her breathing to normal but to no avail. Hermione dropped the soap into the luke warm water and allowed her head to fall into her hands. Her shoulders shook from the exertion and her sobs echoed through the empty walls that felt like they were quickly closing in around her.

There was loud tapping at the window and Draco turned to see his owl hovering in mid-air, pecking repeatedly at the glass. Draco put down his brother's journal to open the glass balcony doors. His tawny owl flew in, swirling around the room once before landing on the bookshelf beside Draco. It extended its leg out to him. He stroked her feathers and offered her a treat, which she eagerly accepted, rubbing her feathered head into his hand as thanks. He unrolled the parchment and briskly scanned its contents, smirking when he finished looking it over. It seemed like everything was ready to be put into action. Draco sent his owl off back to the owlry. He grabbed his cloak and tossed it over his shoulders, securing the clasp that held it in place.

He walked over to where he had stuck Hermione's picture to the wall with his dagger. Draco held the picture at eye-level, eyes dark with bloodlust. He stuck the dagger inside his cloak for safekeeping and disintegrated the picture into ashes with his wand. There was no good in leaving this hanging around for obvious reasons. Just as he was about to Disapparate he heard a knock at his door. Draco groaned inwardly. He had forgotten entirely about his mother.

"Come in," Draco shouted after a moment of indecision.

Draco leaned against the wall, staring at the door as it opened and in came his mother looking utterly exhausted.

"When exactly do you plan on leaving this room, Draco?"

"Right now as a matter of fact." Draco glanced away. It's not as though he could let his mother in on what he was planning. She would warn him of being sent to Azkaban and possibly receiving the Dementor's Kiss. He knew the risks and this was one he had never been more prepared to take in his life. "I'm going on a trip for a while. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone but I'll keep in touch."

"...I know you're troubled over your father's death. It doesn't help matters that your brother soon followed him," Narcissa said gently, crossing the room to stand in front of her son. Her winter blue orbs stared imploringly into his. "But you don't have to up and leave to escape your misery."

Draco narrowed his eyes at the floor and sighed. "It's not like that, mother...I just need to get away for awhile."

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, I will not allow you to leave this house until you properly explain why and where you are going." Narcissa stared hard at Draco and when he wouldn't relent, a look of realization suddenly crossed her features. She gave a smile partly of bitterness and amusement. "Ah...I see. Like father, like son, eh?"

Draco quirked an eyebrow at her, not sure if he liked her tone. "What are you implying, mother?"

"I recognize the same things you're doing as your father once did." She sighed. "Before I found out your father was with...his mistress, he was very secretive, restless all the time, gallivanting off to places without explanation." Narcissa gave Draco a sly grin. "I understand you have your...needs, Draco. Though, you are my son, I am well aware that you are a man. Workaholics like you must also be taken care of. So which is it, a girlfriend or a mistress?"

Draco's eyes widened. He couldn't believe he was hearing this from his own mother. "I..." He grit his teeth together and swallowed the urge to come outright and tell her his plans. "I should have known nothing gets by you. She's...a girlfriend," Draco forced out.

"Naturally." Narcissa shrugged regally. "What's her name?"

"Her name? Uhh..." Draco glanced around his room since he lacked imagination. He cursed himself and would've smacked himself if his mother wasn't staring at him so intently. "I'll just leave that as a surprise."

Narcissa frowned. "Such an enigma." She sighed. "You'll be sure to introduce me to her as soon as you return from wherever you're going with her?"

"Yes, mother." Draco sighed. "Now I really have to be going." He leaned down to peck her cheek. Just as he was about to turn away to Disapparate he felt his mother's hand curl against his cloak. "What's wrong?" He tried not to sound too irritated.

"Just a moment. Hold out your hand."

Narcissa pulled out her wand from her sleeve and conjured up a small vial of amber liquid. She dropped it into his uncertain open palm.

"Be sure to place three drops of this with her tea. Have her drink it at least once everyday."

"What's it for?" Draco asked, frowning down at the vial.

Narcissa rolled her eyes. "Goodness, Draco, it's so you don't impregnate this girl unless you're absolutely certain that she is the one you're going to marry. Can't afford to let you do anything you regret, especially if it winds up being a scandal. In case you forget to use the Contraception charm during the throws of passion, please make sure to take this before you do anything hasty." She looked at him expectantly. "Is she the one for you? Will I be expecting a wedding soon?"

"What? No." Draco drew his eyebrows together in aggravation. "No one's getting married, mother."

"What about her blood status?" At this, she received a blank look from Draco and glanced down at the floor in embarrassment. "I know...I know we should be more accepting of mud-" She looked physically ill as she managed to cut herself off mid-word. She squared her shoulders and the tension slowly left as she smiled faintly at her son. Draco leaned against the wall as he silently regarded her. "I mean muggleborns, half-bloods and even muggles in general. It's not that I still detest them, love, but it's hard to change after generations and generations of one idea has been heavily implanted into one person and passed onto the next."

"You don't have to put on a show for anyone, mother," Draco said aloofly, crossing his arms over his chest as he glanced out the window. "I certainly won't. Maybe that's something for the next Malfoy generation to dabble with but us...I don't expect we'll change. At least not anytime soon. I'm entirely indifferent to common blood. And to answer your question, I'm not sure about my girlfriend's blood status."

"Indifferent is just fine. Your father would have wanted it that way." She reached out to stroke his hair lovingly. "I have to tell you something despite what you have just said." Draco raised an eyebrow at this. "If your young lady does in fact have...common blood, have her as a mistress if you must but that's as far as your lust should take you." Narcissa pouted, looking quite frustrated. "Oh, Draco, darling you really should thoroughly investigate the women you court."

Draco drew himself away from the wall, rolling his eyes. "Sorry, mother, I don't make it a habit to run a background check on all of my girlfriends," Draco said dryly. "Call me daft but things like that tend to scare most people away."

Narcissa looked up at him curiously. "Is she lovelier than Astoria?"

"What?"

Why was she bringing up an old flame that had died out two years ago? She had been the only girlfriend he had had that his mother had been particularly fond of besides his first girlfriend, Pansy. Even before his father had died, she would always drop hints about why he had let Astoria get away. Truth be told, Draco wanted to focus on his career rather than get too involved in a relationship. Getting involved with a woman was too much trouble and not worth the effort. Too much expectation and in the end, Draco only gave promises he didn't intend to keep. Though, he had been close to proposing to Astoria at one point just get the whole affair over with, she had announced that she wanted to break up.

She declared that while she loved him, she was tired of waiting for him to love her back the way she did. Draco consented to the break up without protest. It wasn't too long afterward that guilt began to tug at him whenever he would find Astoria alone. How she loved someone like him was beyond Draco. He decided that he did, in fact, care about Astoria, if not romantically. It was when Greg had commented about how no girl ever seemed to please Blaise that Draco decided to introduce him to Astoria at the next charity ball. Sure enough, the plan had gone without a flaw and he had a feeling it wouldn't be long before they were engaged. From there, he swore to himself he would never ever get involved in another matchmaking scheme so help him Salazar. It made him feel disgustingly...goody-goody.

"Is she or isn't she prettier than Astoria?" his mother pressed.

"Yes, yes she's very beautiful," Draco said exasperatingly, wishing to claw his face off. "Now goodbye. I'll come visit you soon."

Draco turned around before Narcissa could say anything else and Disapparated to Flourish and Blotts. He had seen Hermione working there once or twice in passing. He watched her bustling back and forth for a moment through the store window. She had her hair up in a messy bun and wore a red button-up blouse with black slacks and was busy trying to talk to several customers at once. He entered after a moment, turning away from the counter as he walked through the many aisles of books. He picked one up and stared at its words with disinterest. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione talking to one of her coworkers. Whatever she had said had made Hermione look extremely relieved.

She walked through the aisle next to the one Draco was in. He could see her clearly through the shelves of books as she sat down on a stool and started reading. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear and smiled as she found her bookmarked page. Draco narrowed his eyes at her, putting as much venom into gaze as he could. How long would it be until she got off of work? What on earth was she doing, reading of all things? He watched her carefully through the bookshelf, eyes full of disdain at being so close to her; a common whore. A small, irritating beeping sound suddenly pierced through his inner hatred. Hermione closed her book and set it on her lap. She rifled through her pocket and pulled out a red rectangular object; a cell phone if Draco wasn't mistaken. Not that he knew much about muggle technology.

"Hello? Oh, hi Ginny." Hermione sounded genuinely happy to hear from her friend. "Of course I haven't forgotten. I'll be there soon. I bought you just the perfect birthday present. You're gonna love it. Alright. See you."

Hermione hopped off the stool and went toward the front counter and spoke with her coworker. Draco watched the brief exchange, watching as Hermione reached over the counter to grab her bag and coat. Once Hermione had her coat on and her bag slung over her hip, she gave a quick wave to her co-worker and was out the door. Draco nearly sighed with relief at this. He tossed the book he had been "reading" over his shoulder and briskly walked out after her. He was several yards behind her; a perfectly safe distance that wouldn't arouse suspicion. The streets of Diagon Alley were rapidly clearing up anyway. Draco watched her tighten the belt of her trench coat. When he saw her turn the corner, he sped up his pace to catch up to her, hoping she hadn't decided to Disapparate yet. He screeched to a halt when he caught up with her. A mere few yards away she was rummaging through her bag. Draco ran half the distance away and pulled out his wand. His shoulders were hunched and eyes narrowed as he murmured the incantation.

"Accio Hermione's wand."

Hermione gasped when her wand suddenly flew out of her hands. Draco swiped it mid-air and tucked it into his blazer. He watched as she turned around sharply to face him. He took great delight in watching the look of shock and fear enter her eyes. He could see her breaths turning into puffs of blue clouds in front of her as she gaped at him beneath the amber street lantern light above her.

"Malfoy..." She started. "What're you doing?"

"Seeing dark justice being served."

Draco started walking menacingly toward her; every step closer that he took toward her filled with purpose. He could see anger replacing fear as he approached.

"Please give me my wand." Hermione kept her voice steady. "I don't want any trouble."

"Oh, really?" Draco gave a mocking laugh. He was now standing just an arm's length away from her, holding his wand up to her throat. "That's rich coming from you. Maybe you'd like to tell that to my dearly beloved half-brother, Alaric."

"Your half-brother," Hermione murmured, confusion evident on her face. "I never knew you had one."

Draco snorted. "Not many do. He's my brother through my father. It appeared he had a mistress while he was married to my mother. My father took him in and raised him along with me but to uphold the Malfoy name he sent him to Durmstrung where he made sure to keep Alaric's mouth shut about who his family was." He stepped closer to her, never taking his eyes off of her. "Then Alaric began consorting with a half-blood. To say the least, my father was furious. From thereafter, he disowned him and he was left without a penny to his name. It wasn't long before I lost all contact with him but recently, I had discovered that he had been in your company."

"What-what're you implying?" Hermione asked, glaring at him.

"That you were whoring around behind Weazley's back, of course." A slow smirk spread across Draco's features as he looked her up and down as if assessing her worth. "You picked the wrong brother to mess with though, Granger. You are gonna get yours, Gryffindor Princess."

"I honestly don't have any idea what your on about. Explain yourself. Or at the very least tell me where Alaric is so he can talk some sense into you."

"You won't be seeing him any time soon where you're going."

Hermione eyes widened as she watched his lips starting to form an incantation. She kicked his shin hard, hearing him curse colorfully as she fled and rounded the corner of a shop. Her flats slapped against the pavement, matching her heart drumming against her ribs and her blood pulsing loudly in her ears. Thunder cracked loudly above her, only further driving her adrenaline. Her hand reached into her beaded bag but she couldn't find her stupid phone. There was just way too much junk stuffed into her bag. A weapon; she needed some kind of weapon. The sound of shoes crunching hard against the gravel wasn't too far behind. In all the frenzy, her hand grasped her compact and hurled it at him.

Draco deflected it easily, making it explode into a shower of glass shards. They clattered onto the floor like the deadly tinkling of bells. Draco walked right over them, shoes smashing up the glass even further. Hermione felt fear clutch hold its cold, dead fingers around her heart as she ran faster. She felt the first drop of rain splash against her forehead before it began heavily pelting her. She turned another corner, frantically pushing her drenched hair out of her eyes as she ran. At the end of the alley stood Draco, dark cloak and shadowed face making him look like the Grim Reaper.

"Malfoy," Hermione tried, clenching her fists at her sides. "Please, please don't do this."

Draco sneered. "And why not? I do enjoy the sight of you trembling and begging for your life. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just Crucio you to death right now like my dear Auntie Bella once tried. You've just ran blindly into Nocturn Alley. Do you really think anyone will come to your aid here? And to help you of all people?" He walked over to her, lowering his wand to his side. He now stood a foot away from her, watching her eyes widen fearfully. Draco lifted his hand to her face and lifted her chin up so that their eyes met. A smirk spread across his face. "Those eyes of yours...so innocent, so expressive. Is that why Alaric fancied you, I wonder? What would draw me to them is watching that defiant fire leave your eyes..." He leaned forward, his warm breath puffing against her ear. "...as I watch you draw your last breath. Stupefy!"

Hermione slumped forward with a gasp and Draco caught her before she could hit the ground. He tossed her over his shoulder as if she were a sack of potatoes. He glanced around quickly to make sure no one had witnessed anything from the opposite end of the alley. Holding her securely on his shoulder by the back of her knees, he Disapparated with a crack.

A/N: I hope you guys liked it. Considering how much Lucius and Narcissa despised each other, I thought it was very likely that he had a mistress. I've always liked the name Alaric ever since I started watching The Vampire Diaries. lol. It just seemed like as good a time as any to use it. I would have gone with a Constellation name to keep with the tradition of the Malfoys like Regulus, Draco, Scorpius, etc. but I couldn't find a good name. Plus it wouldn't really make sense for Lucius to keep up with tradition since the mother was a prostitute. Haha I just noticed that Pansy and Hermione's relationship is similar to Hugh Grant and Sandra Bullock's from 28 Days Notice. Please let me know what you guys think of my fic so far and if I should change this story to M since the beginning mentions suicide. Please R/R for a quick review.