Draco smiled at her and wondered to himself if he was crazy for doing this, for feeling this way and for actually believing that it can work out. He didn’t know what the future held for him, but he didn’t care. All he knew was if Hermione believed that it could work out… then dammit, he believed it too. He, surprisingly, found comfort in her words, her smile and her concern – and for now, that was all he needed.

Hermione has had it up to HERE with Malfoy...

Hermione bolted through the doorway and scuttled down the stairs and as Malfoy came into view she gasped and brusquely came to a stop. Malfoy was convulsing and contracting as he lay on the sheets, all the while wailing in agony. Sweat drops collected on his temples, his lips were nearly as white as the rest of his face, his eyelids were slightly opened and Hermione could see that his eyes have rolled back. His fingers were stiffly bent and his body was badly contorted. Hermione couldn’t help shaking in place at the sight of Malfoy as tears shot up to her eyes.

Hermione turned her nose up at him. “Well, blimey, I didn’t find it funny. And what’s going on? What’s this?” she asked, waving her hands around, indicating their physical condition. “Why are you all of a sudden hugging me, touching me, kissing me? What are you playing at?”

Harry suddenly appeared next to Hermione a few seconds later. “What’s going on here? What’s this?” He pointed his finger and wagged it back and forth between Hermione and Draco.

Headmistress McGonagall's at The Burrow. What lies ahead of the Golden Trio? And what's in store for the Slytherin boy?

Hermione said with a rueful smile. “I heard someone say to me once before, love is a perky little elf dancing a merry little jig and then, suddenly, he turns on you with a miniature machine gun. I never knew how true that was until now.”

Harry showed up that night. Hermione saw him charging towards the fighting crowd as he sought to face Voldemort. Hermione continued blasting charms here and there, while keeping an eye on Harry.