When Hermione returns from the woods she'd fled in to, it's to find Draco wearing a line in her carpet. She arches a brow and tilts her head when his gaze lands on her and the relief is visible in the way his tense body seems to slump forward until he's leaning against the mantle of her fireplace. He doesn't speak, though, so she shrugs and makes her way back to the kitchen to start lunch.

Draco makes it approximately one minute and thirty-four seconds before he explodes.

"Where in Merlin's name have you been?" He shouts, stalking into the kitchen after her. The anger billowing off him in waves causes her to momentarily freeze, and it takes a lot to keep from flinching away. The last time someone had been this angry with her, she'd been struck to the ground.

"What do you mean?" She asks, keeping her voice carefully devoid of emotion. Her back stays facing him so he can't see the way her hands shake as she layers meat and cheese onto bread.

"What I mean is that you've been gone for three days, Granger! I've been locked away in this house for three days because of the bloody enchantement on the doors and windows and I haven't had a clue if you were coming back! You could have died and I would have been trapped here alone. So I'll ask again, where have you been?" His fists are curled tight at his side when she finally turns to face him and his eyes hold the wild glint of a caged animal.

"Has it really been that long?" She wonders innocently, feeling just a touch cruel. After all, he had been the one to chase her from her house. "I must have lost track of time." Seeing the way his alabaster skin turned a brilliant shade of angry crimson is completely worth it.

Draco crosses his arms over his chest and glares at her with all the fury he can muster into a single look. "Don't play games with me," he growls. "I sat here for three days thinking something had happend to you. It wasn't funny, not in the slightest. If this is some sick way of getting back at me for what I said, then you sure succeded."

Hermione's brow furrows and she stares blankly at the wall just over his shoulder, lost in thought.

For a moment he had actually sounded like...like he cared about what happened to her and that is exactly what she didn't want to happen. It was bad enough that Ron disrupted her life by coming back, now to have the person she hates suddenly start to show concern? It would flip everything upside down. She's relying on this one constant to keep her grounded and if she loses it then she might just loose her sanity.

So she did the only thing she could do: make him hate her.

"You were afraid?" She taunts, sneering at him. "Who would have thought that the big, bad Slytherin Death Eater would be afraid of being alone?"

The reaction is instantaneous, but it isn't what she had hoped for. There isn't anger, like she'd been striving for. Rather, hurt flood across his expression and his body seems to deflate. His shoulders drop and his head hangs low, hiding most of his face from view. He looks so defeated in that moment that it sends a sharp pang of guilt crashing through her.

This was what she had wanted, for him to hate her, but not in this way. She wanted to yelling and the angry taunts to be shot back at her. She feels sick with herself.

"That was a low blow," Draco declares quietly, refusing to meet her eyes. He glares out the window facing the back yard. "You know as well as I do that it wasn't my choice. I didn't want that, but I was forced into it. I thought you, of all people, would understand that. Clearly I was wrong." Hermione jolts back, face twisting up in pain.

Then, just as quickly as he had turned into the broken boy, he's jerking up straight. She's stunned into silence as she watches his eyes narrow and a smirk pull up the corner of his mouth. If she hadn't been witness to the way he had been moments ago, she wouldn't believe the saddness that this cold face has held.

"I suppose putting too much faith in a mudblood will always have unwanted results, though," he snarls.

There is is, that disgusting word again. Hermione so wants to correct him, but she doesn't. She's more than a little deserving of it after the mocking she had done.

"I thought you were more clever than that?" She says, then grabs the plate of sandwhiches and thrusts it at him. "Here's your food. I'll be going to my room now, if you don't mind." Hermione maneuvers around him, realizing that he had no intention of moving out of her way. She's halfway up the steps when he speaks again.

"Don't walk away from me," he spits. "We are still talking." Hermione pauses, one foot on the step above her, and turns to see him standing at the bottom of the steps.

She shakes her head. "No, we are done. Having a wonderful rest of the day."

There is an ear-splitting crack that makes her cringe. Hermione spins around, nearly tumbling down stairs in the process, and her gaze immediately land on the plate that lays at his feet. The pretty blue plate is now shattered into thousands of jagged shards amid the makings of the sandwiches.

"What did you do?" She cries in a shrill voice, stalking down to him and pulling out her wand to repair the broken plate.

"You were running away like a coward and I did the only thing I could to assure that I have your attention," he replies easily, making his way back to the kitchen. Forgetting the plate, Hermione steps over the hazardous pieces with only one thought repeating in her head, a broken record that she can't stop.

Coward. Coward. Coward. "I am not a coward!" She hisses and, before he has the chance to respond, she succumbs to the childish desire and snatches a nearby mug. With a flick of her wrist, it's sailing at the wall by his head and breaking apart. "You can call me anything else, but I will not tolerate being called a coward, not after everything I've done to prove otherwise. If either of us here is a coward, it's you!"

Her only warning to his actions are a small, animal-like growl. In the next instant, a vase from the center of the table is tumbling towards her, and she only just ducks out of the way before it hits her. Her screech is drowned out by the sound of it cracking apart and the colorful fragments rain down on her. A few stick into her skin, but she hardly feels it.

"You absolute prick!" She howls. Neither of them hear the roar from the living room. Hermione leaps back to her feet and snatches a tall glass cup from the counter-top. Draco manages to dive out of the way before the cup explodes in a shower of glimmering glass.

He's about to realiate, but they're both suddenly lifted from their feet and flung against walls opposite it each other, much like they'd done to the glassware. Rope snakes around their bodies until they're both completely restrained and helpless against the walls, three feet above the ground. The pair looks around for their captors, but Hermione spots them first, given better view of the doorway to the living room than Draco.

"Harry James Potter, you let me down this instant," she demands, struggling against the binding. The ropes only tighten, so she stills.

Both Harry and Ginny pick their way into the kitchen, avoiding glass, with their wands raised and pointed at the battling housemates; Harry keeps his wand on Hermione while Ginny focuses on Draco.

"Neither of you are going to be let go until we're told why you're ruining the kitchen like a pair of toddlers," Harry snaps, using his most authoritative aurora voice. "We came to tell Hermione something and instead we're greeted with this." Hermione drops her head, feeling his disappoinment like a heavy weight, but neither she nor Draco speak up.

A few minutes of tense silence pass before Hermione sighs and compromises, "just let us go, the I'll tell you."

Harry considers this, looking to Ginny, who only shrugs. He huffs but lowers Hermione to the ground and releases the binding spell. Ginny follows his lead, but accidentally lets Draco fall to the floor instead of lowering him like Harry had done for Hermione. Draco grunts when he hits the floor but otherwise says nothing.

"Sorry, but you did break my favorite vase," Ginny explains with a sharp grin, looking at the shattered remains of the beautiful vase while she reverses the bindings on him. He scowls and rubs his arms. The rope had been much tighter than was really needed.

"Well I hated it," Draco declares, pushing himself to his feet. Harry helps Hermione stand and then gently leads her to the lving room while Ginny grabs Draco's arm and drags him after Harry. The couple force Hermione and Draco onto the couch then remain standing above them.

"Now explain," Harry says, crosing his arms and glaring down at Draco before turning the same disappointd gaze from before onto Hermione.

"I don't see why-" Draco starts with an air of contempt, but Hermione interupts before he can go on.

"For once in your life, can you just stop talking?" He rolls his eyes but doesn't speak again. "Thank you," she breaths, then turns to her friends. "We got into an argument, insults were thrown, and then it quickly escalated from there. The glass was ridiculous and excessive, and I apologize for that." Hermione leans back, feeling satisfied with her answer, but Draco doesn't seem to agree.

"You left out one detail," he mutters.

"And what is that?" Ginny asks, giving both of them a pointed glare.

With a smirk, he says, "she disappeared for three days, leaving me here without a clue if she was coming back." Now everyone in the room is staring at Hermione who is finding that stitching of the rug to be very interesting.

"Hermione," Harry clears his throat, "where did you go?" She could feel their eyes on her and it makes her pick at her shirt, then cross and uncross her legs several times before an idea pops into her head.

"Christmas shopping," she answers. "But I ran into a relative and they insisted that I come and visit for a few days. Nothing too big. But what are you two doing here? You said you had to tell me something." It's a blatent attempt at changing the subject, she just hopes that they are too distracted by the question to dwell on what she had said. She gets lucky.

"Oh, right! I nearly forgot about that," Ginny chuckles, but it isn't a humorous laugh and her eyes darken considerably. Even Harry looks more serious than he already had been while questioning the quarreling housemates.

"Draco, go upstairs," Hermione says, not taking her eyes of her two friends.

"Why can't I stay and hear?" he asks, but doesn't seem to be looking for an answer because he's already starting up the stairs before he's even finished speaking. Ginny waits until they hear his door close before taking a breath and sitting down on Hermione's left while Harry takes her right. It leaves Hermione feeling trapped, but she doesn't move away.

"Is something wrong? Teddy isn't sick, is he? Are your parents hurt?" Ginny looks at her funnily before shaking her head, and Hermione can breath easier. "What is it? You know, I'm really growing tired of the surprises you seem to always have when you come over. Please tell me this one isn't like the last."

Harry flushes and mutters, "well, it isn't exactly good news."

Hermione frowns, hands curling around her knees. "Spit it out then, I've got quite the busy schedule, what with broken glass and Christmas only three days away," she says, patience wearing thin.

Harry glances at Ginny, who nods slightly, and then starts talking. "Yesterday, we got a letter from Ron." The name sends a twinge through her chest, but she bites her lip and carefully doesn't let her reaction show on her face. "He says he's staying at an Inn near Diagone Alley and that he hopes to visit us before our wedding next year." Harry pauses, and Hermione is really getting sick of them witholding information.

"What else did he say," sher prompts, staring at her television.

Ginny purses her lips and watches her friend, waiting for some kind of reaction. She gets nothing, not even when she says, "he told us that he'd be writing you soon, some time in the next few days."