AUTHOR'S NOTE: I don't own anything, sadly :(

Summary: Historical Dramione AU based on 'Spring Awakening'. It's 1891, a time of swift upheaval and rapid change, where the older Victorian values battle against more progressive outlooks. Amidst this, the Wizarding World is in turmoil: There's talk of the Dark Lord Voldemort returning to power, of his followers quietly gathering and preparing. Aiming to quell the dissent emanating from the younger generation of wizards, Ministry Official Dolores Umbridge is dispatched to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in an effort to keep the rebellious teenagers in line, rather unsuccessfully of course.

Timeline: Spring 1891

Details: Hogwarts-era, 7th year Alternate Universe. Think of the timeline being pushed back: Events of 1st-3rd years stay the same, but Voldemort never returned during the Triwizard Tournament, instead Harry & Cedric tied as champions. 5th & 6th year were relatively-normal (or as normal as you can get at Hogwarts), but there have been early rumours of Voldemort being alive. The Order of the Phoenix are plotting, and Umbridge has been dispatched to Hogwarts to 'settle' things, replacing Dumbledore as head of the school.

The plot is partially based on Frank Wedekind's play Spring Awakening and the Broadway musical, so characters are slightly OOC at points (given the time period and also their partial basis on Spring Awakening's characters). A line break denotes a change of scene, and (x) (x) (x) denotes a change in perspective (the thespian in me reigns supreme). I originally aimed to make this a 2 part fic, but have got supremely carried away and it's now looking like more of a 4/5 parter!

I would definitely suggest reading the play (after reading the fic, so you can remain spoiler-free) & listening to the musical's soundtrack, it's fab. Also, this is my first HP fanfic and my first fanfic in a loooong time, please be kind!

Warnings: Mature fic – Explicit heterosexual sex; A suicide attempt; Violence; Blood-prejudice; implied homosexual sex; reluctant D/s / D/s gone wrong; dark magic/curses.

"Girls, Girls! Settle down please. Yes, Miss Brown, that's quite enough thank you, you and Miss Patil can giggle all you like in your own time. Now, onto the lesson-"

Dolores Umbridge paused and looked around the room at the 6th and 7th year girls assembled in front of her, waiting impatiently for her to continue. She averted her eyes from the eager young women, sitting in rows in the small classroom – choosing instead to look out beyond them, through the large window at Hogwarts' expansive grounds.

"Now, some of my colleagues have decided that it is imperative we teach some kind of… health education class here at Hogwarts. I myself do not see the need for this, you are but children, and anything you will need to know you will learn yourselves through experience as dutiful married witches." She finished, sweeping her hands firmly down her pink robes, as if to physically cast off the awkward topic. She could feel the eyes of that interfering Nurse, Madam Pomfrey, on her back as she fumbled to find the right words. She had explained to the matron that she was perfectly capable of teaching the young witches in front of her all they needed to know, but the overbearing woman had insisted on being there, claiming it was within her remit as Matron.

"Moving onwards-" the stout witch began again, before being swiftly interrupted by a loud voice emanating from a brunette witch sitting front and centre of the classroom, speaking out of turn even as her hand was raised in question.

"But Professor Umbridge, isn't that point?" Said Hermione Granger, an expression of confusion alighting her soft features.

"Isn't what the point, Miss Granger?" the Ministry official simpered, preparing herself inwardly for what was sure to be a trying interruption from the overly inquisitive witch. Some called Hermione Granger bright, the brightest witch of her generation in fact, but Dolores herself preferred to think of the young girl as simply obstinate.

"Isn't it the point that you are supposed to be teaching us exactly that: health education, 'marital education'? So that we can go forth with clearer understanding-?" Hermione replied, brows knitting together in confusion.

"As I said, you are too young to be learning of the, ahem, delicate interactions within a marriage. I feel-"

"But how are we going to be able to be good little wives who know what to do with our husbands?" Hermione questioned sarcastically, her frustration with the toad-like witch getting the better of her as she sat back in her chair, regarding the frowning witch in front of her with an air of defiance. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil promptly broke back into heaps of giggles, creating a wave of dissent and distraction that emanated out from the back of the room. Umbridge fisted her stubby hands in her gowns, trying to remain calm. Not for the first time, the High Inquisitor, now Headmistress of Hogwarts, regretted taking such an active lead in the reformation of the school. Not one to be discouraged though, she battled on, taking a deep breath, opening her mouth to retort, before being rudely interrupted again:

"I agree Professor Umbridge, we are not so far from marriageable age, and surely it would be better to learn these things from you, rather than… less educational sources, say?" Piped up a pretty ginger witch who was sharing the double desk with Miss Granger. Although phrased to pacify, Ginny Weasley's eyes sparkled mischievously as she argued the older witch into a metaphorical corner.

"Yes, maybe we should ask Filch? He might be more obliging in telling us, since you are so clearly not." Said a sharp voice belonging to one Pansy Parkinson, who sat, arms crossed, in a posse of scowling Slytherin girls. Umbridge had entered Hogwarts with a smug confidence, sure of gaining allies among her fellow snakes; this had been the case at the beginning of her tenure but any collaboration between the Slytherin wizards and their new Headmistress had slowly petered out (having been goaded on by multiple unfavourable 'Educational Decrees') and now all the young students seemed united in their hatred of the oppressive ministry official.

Silence fell as the squat witch gaped like a fish at the Syltherin girl's shocking response. Lavender Brown later assured everyone at dinner she was convinced Umbridge had been seconds away from exploding, having turned such a violent shade of puce and with a vein throbbing in her temple fit to burst. Suffice to say, the now-Headmistress did not explode, merely stutter out an indignant "Detention, Miss Parkinson!" before reluctantly continuing.

"All right then, fine! Although it feels highly inappropriate…" She said, shrilly, trying regain a modicum of calmness, wisps of mousey hair escaping from under the black velvet bow perched in her frizzy hair.

"For a woman to bear a child, she must, in her own personal way, she must... love her husband. Love him, as she can love only him. Only him... she must love, with her whole... heart. There, now you know everything." Professor Umbridge postulated, secretly having little experience of love or 'marital relations' herself. Behind her, Madam Pomfrey gritted her teeth, forcing herself not to interrupt the Ministry Official's gibberish explanation.

Fortunately, Hermione Granger promptly did that for her: "Everything?! What about contraceptive spells, potions? What about childbirth? Are we to receive no education on any of these subjects? Vague euphemisms don't teach us anything!" She exclaimed, her curls almost vibrating with her anger. The other witches' faces held similar expressions of disbelief and annoyance, and a muttered whisper of 'what a cop out' drifted out from the back of the classroom. A thin-lipped, snake-like smile spread slowly across Umbridge's face, as her small eyes focussed in on the plump brunette witch in front of her.

"Now Miss Granger, what use would you have of any of the spells you describe? I'm not quite sure how you are expecting to find a good wizarding husband, what with your obstinate attitude combined with your unfortunate station. I know you don't know better dear, given your upbringing, but do try and stay silent when your betters are speaking, hmm?" Professor Umbridge said, voice saccharine-sweet and laced with poison. The class fell silent at Umbridge's bare-faced display of prejudice, with gasps and shocked mutters soon spreading like wildfire around the small room. Hermione blanched, but stared defiantly back even as tears pricked her eyes. "Now-" the Headmistress began again, in a slightly calmer voice, before being interrupted by the shrill ringing of the bell which signalled the end of the rather un-educational class. "It seems as if fate agrees with me. You are all dismissed. Quickly to your next classes now please girls." The witch turned, shuffling through papers on her desk as she silently thanked Merlin for the end of a very trying hour.

"Are you alright? That woman is a bloody nightmare. We need to tell someone about what she said-" Ginny began in a furious whisper as they hurried out of the room together.

"There's no one to tell… anyway I'm fine." Hermione reassured, although Umbridge's words still churned around inside her head, raw and painful. She gritted her teeth, forcing the thoughts from her mind and trying to focus instead on ways to get the toad-like witch back.

"We've got to do something! Nobody else is doing anything… I don't understand how the other teachers can allow this to happen!" Ginny gesticulated..

"They have little choice I suppose. Remember what Professor Lupin told us about Fudge being utterly paranoid of being usurped? This must be his way of trying to grasp some power back." Hermione whispered in reply. They hadn't seen their ex-professor since the Christmas holidays, which they'd spent as a group at the Burrow. The adults had spent the entire time cooped up together in the kitchen, planning for Voldemort's anticipated return, while the 'children' (even those over 17) had been exiled to the rest of the house, much to their chagrin. Ginny went momentarily quiet at the sobering reminder.

"You're right." She then sighed. "In the meantime, I might just aboutsurvive this year if we don't have to do any more of those godawful 'health lessons' – that was the worst thing we've done in all our time at Hogwarts."

"Yes, that lesson was entirely pointless." Hermione fumed, as the girls turned and headed towards the large entrance hall of the castle, aiming to spend their free class outside in the weak spring sunlight. "I could've spent that hour in the library, finishing off my Ministry application."

"It probably did you good to get a bit of a break to be honest, you've been working far too hard recently – although scratch that, any time with Umbridge is the opposite of a break." Ginny laughed, tossing her long hair over her shoulder and stepping through the large double doors of the castle.

The girls lapsed into silence as they strolled over the lawns, wandering down to where Harry and Ron were sitting by the lake. Suddenly, Ginny grabbed her older friend's arm, pulling her back to face her before they reached the boys.

"Hermione? You know that, erm, charm you mentioned?"

"What charm?" Hermione replied breezily, tucking her thick hair behind her ears.

"The contraceptive one." Ginny hissed quietly, her freckles disappearing behind a spreading blush.

"Oh. OH! That charm. What about it?" Hermione now felt her blush spreading too.

"Yes, I was wondering, could you… teach it to me?" She muttered, then embarrassed, hurriedly continued: "Harry and I haven't- you know… we're planning on waiting til marriage anyway! I just-"

"Oh Ginny, don't worry! I understand." Hermione pacified the anxious girl. "I'm sorry, you know I would help you if I could… but I don't know the charm either. I've seen it mentioned in books but nothing that actually tells me how to do it. The library's books are very limited in some ways…" She finished, her dark brown eyes sliding away from Ginny's hazel ones.

"How frustrating. I don't know who to ask, I'd ask my mother but you know she would have an aneurysm at the thought of pre-marital relations." Ginny giggled.

"Oh Merlin, I couldn't even imagine asking my mother! She wouldn't understand why I would even want to know the charm post-marriage, let alone pre. Who wouldn't want hundreds of children running around?" Hermione replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"Hundreds? Oh my, Hermione, so you and your future husband are planning to be very active then?" Ginny shot her friend a teasing look.

"Exactly, that's why we'd need the charm." Hermione replied impishly, prompting both girls to dissolve into fits of laughter, interrupted only by Ron's call of 'Hermione, Ginny? What are you two giggling about?'

Ginny rolled her eyes, smiling, linking her arms with Hermione as the two set off towards the boys splayed across the grass.

"How was potions? Did you miss us?" Ginny called teasingly to Harry and Ron as they approached.

"Rather uneventful really. Snape was his usual awful self, of course." Harry shrugged, moving to make room for the girls to sit down with them under large willow tree by the water's edge.

"You should count yourselves luckily, I'd have much rather been in Potions instead of being pulled out into that sorry excuse for a health class that Professor Umbridge hosted." Hermione said.

"Yeah, right." Ron snorted. "Easy for you to say – you get top marks in potions. And Umbridge's can't have been that bad, at least you didn't get homework."

"Shut up Ron, it was absolutely dire." Ginny retorted, aiming a swift kick at Ron's shin.

"You didn't learn anything interesting then?" Harry grinned. Ginny flushed red.

"Unfortunately we didn't." She retorted with a giggle, lying back on the grass.

"You two are incorrigible. We're expecting the proposal any day now you know." Hermione smiled. Ron fake-retched at the couple, meeting Hermione's eyes in mirth. She found herself grinning back, but suddenly caught herself and looked away, pulling out a scroll of parchment and a quill. "Harry, can you tell me the notes I missed today. I know we have the remedial lesson when you boys are in your 'health class' but I want to be ahead for it." She said hastily.

"Yes, fine." Harry replied distantly, still smiling at Ginny, pulling out his potions notebook from his satchel.

"I'm not sure why you even need it, if I'd done my NEWTS a year early I would spend this whole year lazing about." Ron piped up, shaking his head.

"You laze about anyway." Hermione only half-teased, unable to resist the chance to insult him.

"Yeah yeah – I need to go meet Lavender anyway." Ron replied distantly, standing up and swinging his satchel over a broad shoulder.

"I thought we'd agreed to study together?" Hermione asked, mentally-kicking herself as soon as the words left her mouth.

There goes my plan for not appearing needy…

"Sorry, but I promised-"

"It's fine! Really!" She replied shrilly, suddenly busying herself flipping through the pages of her over-filled notebook.

"Right so, we can skip the Latin practice of course, but I want to cover the Wideye potion again…" She breezily launched into a monologue of potion ingredients and translations with Harry, pretending to take no notice as Ron sloped off across the grass. They all went very quiet as soon as he was out of earshot, the only noise being the sound of Hermione scribbling furiously onto a scrap of parchment. Harry exchanged a grimace with Ginny, before tentatively speaking:

"Hermione-"

"He's at perfect liberty to do whatever he likes, Harry." Hermione said icily, snapping the book shut loudly enough to make them both flinch. "I just wish he'd told me."

"I know; he was a complete arse." Ginny immediately agreed, laying a comforting hand on Hermione's arm.

"I know we weren't officially engaged, and it's not like I'm in love with him or anything…"

"We all thought it was going to happen." Harry admitted sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

"Yes, I thought you'd be married before I would be, to be honest." Ginny added tactlessly, then flushed when realising what she'd said.

"…and then I find him kissing her, if you can even call that kissing, pressed up against the wall like that." Hermione raged on, totally oblivious to the other two's comments. She went quiet for a few moments, then added in a very small voice: "Do you know what it's like to have admit to your parents, who've been openly planning your marriage for seven years, that suddenly there's no wedding and no betrothed?"

Ginny nodded comfortingly, and tears pricked Hermione's eyes as she continued: "And to have everyone you have ever known also know this fact, and thus treat you as the jilted, broken-hearted little ex-fiancée?"

Both Harry and Ginny were stunned into an awkward silence at her words, broken only by Harry's unhelpful stammering. Hermione couldn't make out much more than a series of 'er's' and 'um's', alongside a cough and a mutter of Ron's name. When it came to being comforting, Harry could often fall very short of the mark, particularly when the situation concerned Ron. She knew Harry would do anything for her – except be disloyal to Ron, it seemed. He would always come first in Harry's eyes. She sighed deeply, pulling the scattered papers into her lap. "Anyway, back to revision. The Draught of Living Death…" She launched back into school work, forcing herself to push down that horrible feeling of betrayal that so often seemed to plague her.

Indeed, the boys' potions lesson had been very uneventful for Harry and Ron. For Theodore Nott, on the other hand, potions was a different matter entirely. Those moving in Death Eater circles knew of the hatred shared between Theodore Nott Sr. and Severus Snape, a hatred the latter was now delighting in taking out on the former's son. The classroom was hot and dark, and Theo found himself drifting off at the rhythmic Latin chanting Snape was making the boys do.

"…litora, multum ille et terris iactatus et alto…"

Theo slowly stopped mouthing along, resting his head in his hand as the wood of the desk went blurry in front of his eyes.

"…vi superum saevae memorem Iunonis ob…"

His eyes slowly fluttered shut, and his breathing was just getting even when he felt Draco's bony elbow jab him between the ribs. He jerked awake to Snape's sharp voice, ringing out in the now silent classroom:

"I said, Mr Nott, perhaps you could be so kind as to tell me the third ingredient of Wideye Potion? Since you are so clearly proficient in Latin you can bypass the learning exercises and go straight onto translations?" The hook-nosed professor continued, bearing down over the dark-haired wizard in front of him.

"Um… is it… Lacewing Flies?"

"Wrong, as expected. I'm sure even Longbottom could have told us the correct answer, which is, of course, Billywig Stings."

"Yes Professor." Theo muttered.

"Let's try it again shall we? How many mistletoe berries would one add to the Antidote to Common Poisons?"

"T-three, sir."

"Do you want to cure your subject or speed up the killing process? Merlin alive Nott, you are an utter disgrace. I can't quite believe-" Snape stopped abruptly as Draco Malfoy stood up at his desk.

"Professor, maybe Theo was referencing the older Wolfecroft version of the potion, which suggests three mistletoe berries, as opposed to Jigger's textbook suggestion of two?" Draco said, levelling his grey eyes at his Godfather and teacher. The two shared a tense look for a split second, before Snape slowly drawled: "Don't make excuses for the wretched, Mr Malfoy. Sit down please. And Nott – detention for your insolence." The tall professor turned, flicking his wand at the blackboard. Theo gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep his eyes on the board; Spidery rows of writing appeared instantly, informing the class of the potion they had to brew before the hour was up.

"-hate him so much. So what if I cannot remember minute details of rare potions at the drop of a hat? It doesn't stop me from being able to brew them. Sorry Draco, I know he's your godfather..." Theo raged as the boys walked out of the classroom an hour later, the fumes of their perfectly-brewed Wiggenweld Potion still permeating the air.

"He's being extraordinarily harsh. It's one of his strengths really, the ability to bear unending grudges." Draco commiserated. "I'll talk to him again-"

"There's no point. We'll get our Christmas exam results soon, and then if I can just get through the summer NEWTS we're finished… I'm just so tired." Theo sighed, rubbing a large hand across his face.

"You do look exhausted." Draco remarked, eyeing over his oldest friend. "Are you not sleeping well?"

"I've been having these… dreams." Theo muttered quietly so only Draco could hear.

"What kind of dreams, like nightmares?" The blond regarded him quizzically.

"N-no, not as such. It's like… Legs in sky blue stockings, right up to the top of the thigh, climbing over a teacher's desk." Theo mumbled, averting his eyes from Draco's cool gaze.

"Oh, That kind of dream." Draco smirked knowingly.

"Indeed. Have you ever suffered such... mortifying visions?"

"Of course, Theo! We all have." Draco replied, laughing. "Goyle once told me he dreamt he was seduced by McGonagall."

"Seducing McGonagall, my, my, this sounds like an intriguing conversation." Came the smooth, deep voice of Blaise Zabini from behind them, his dark eyes bright and knowing.

"We were just discussing girls. And dirty dreams." Draco smirked, eyeing Blaise mischievously.

"I've had a fair few of those. I daresay mine are rather different than yours though." Blaise drawled, a small smile quirking his full lips. It was private knowledge within the students that Blaise had rather divergent tastes, namely ones that excluded girls.

"See look Theo, even Blaise suffers from explicit dreams. Don't let it bother you." Draco reassured his oldest friend. Theo nodded, smiling slightly as Blaise butted in with a wide grin- 'I wouldn't say 'suffers' exactly…' trailing off as Neville Longbottom walked by. Draco watched Blaise's eyes follow Neville, as the handsome boy called after him:

"Where are you off to Longbottom?"

"L-library. I've got some Herbology research to do." Came the stuttered reply from the gangly Gryffindor.

"I'll walk with you." Blaise said smoothly, stepping towards Neville.

"You will?" Neville asked hopefully, a small blush spreading across his already reddened cheeks.

"Yes, we'll do that Herbology research together, if you will." Blaise countered suggestively. Neville nodded in acquiescence, looking quietly pleased as the pair set off up the stairs.

Gregory Goyle barrelled out of the dungeon classroom shortly after, following the pair up the stairs and nodding in goodbye as he passed Draco and Theo.

"Off to remedial Transfiguration, Goyle?" Draco asked, trying and failing to repress a smirk.

"Professor McGonagall will not be kept waiting." Goyle replied with an involuntary shudder, climbing up the stairs out of the dungeon. Draco winked at Theo, who just shook his head in reply.

"Oh Draco, a two-foot essay on Strengthening Solution, plus all that Transfiguration work, and the bloody dream diary for Divination. And I'll be up all night again, haunted by another of those nightmares." Theo sighed, frustratedly.

"Oh, yes. Your 'dream'." Draco couldn't repress his bemused smirk as the pair set off towards the Slytherin dormitories.

"I just don't understand, why-why am I haunted by the legs of a woman? By the deepening conviction: some dark part of my destiny may lie there between them...?"

"I didn't realise you'd set up a Shakespeare Society at Hogwarts." Draco teased, laughing at Theo's flowery descriptions of his dreams. "It's not so much philosophical as biological… Did your father never explain things to you? 'Marital relations'? Sex?" He continued, sarcastically using air-quotes to punctuate his sentence. Theo blushed.

"My father doesn't tell me very much of anything, unless he can help it. I know the basics I suppose…" Theo glanced away, embarrassed.

"Well… I'm sure that's enough." Draco stated pragmatically. "At least your father keeps to himself. Mine, on the other hand, was rather too forthcoming in the information department. He even had a half-notion of taking me to a brothel on my 15th."

"Draco… you didn't…?" The brunet boy prompted, dreadfully curious and slightly disgusted, all at once.

"Merlin, no. My poor mother heard about it and intervened. Thankfully the temptation to disobey her lessened significantly once he found out I was no longer a virgin." Theo nodded. It had been a scandal within their Slytherin year group when it was discovered that Pansy had given up her prized virginity to Draco when they were both 16. After the news broke, Draco had strutted around like a peacock for weeks, but had drunkenly divulged to Theo and Blaise one night that he'd only done it to get his overbearing father off his back.

'Now I know the reason why' Theo thought with a shudder, as the pair let themselves into the shared dormitory to get started on homework.

Hermione wrestled with the hairbrush, staring at her increasingly frizzy hair in the mirror as everyone chattered around her.

'One hundred strokes, every night' Her straight-haired mother had instructed her since childhood, even buying her a new brush when she left for Hogwarts aged 11. Hermione had listened, and tried, even though her frizzy curls seemed incompatible with the expensive boar bristle, or any hair product for that matter. Still, tonight it provided welcome distraction from the chatter of the girls around her. The seventh year Gryffindor girls plus Padma and Luna from Ravenclaw, and Ginny, of course, were sitting in the circular room of the Gryffindor seventh year girls' dormitory, clad only in their long nightgowns. They had been giggly and gossipy for days, particularly since Umbridge's 'health class' a few days previously.

Putting away her brush and strolling over to join Ginny on the four-poster, she realised rather too-late that she had chosen precisely the wrong moment to rejoin the conversation.

"I, for one, cannot wait to be married!" Simpered Lavender Brown, tossing her wavy blonde hair over her shoulder.

'I bet she's never had to cut a comb out of her hair' Hermione thought absently, now absurdly jealous over the girl's smooth, shiny hair, as well as everything else.

"Yes, we all know who you have your eye on Lavender. A certain redhead by the name of Ron Weasley by any chance?" Padma teased. The blonde witch flushed slightly and grinned. "His family has invited mine to the wedding of his older brother Percy in the summer. I think it's so they can all plan for our inevitable marriage." She giggled, trying and failing not to look at Hermione.

"I still wish Ron was marrying you instead of this airhead." Ginny whispered thoughtlessly to Hermione, thankfully masked by the other girls' loud giggling. The brunette witch acknowledged her with a slightly strained smile, somewhat embarrassed by her friend's comment.

It had been a hard few weeks since Hermione had discovered Ron and Lavender embracing on the 4th floor stairwell. Ron's announcement of his deep love of one Lavender Brown and their intention to marry after graduation followed swiftly afterwards, as had the sudden crumbling of Hermione's self-esteem.

Ever since her friendship was kindled with Ron Weasley as first years at Hogwarts, it had been widely assumed that they would eventually marry, as befitting of young compatriots of a certain age and class. Hermione hadn't had strong feelings either way – she cared for the ginger wizard as a close friend, and apparently that would be enough. 'Romance is for novels, not for reality' her mother had always impressed upon her, and Hermione had no choice but to reluctantly agree. Not that any of it mattered in the end.

A high-pitched call of "Hermione?" Broke suddenly through her little reverie, and she flushed, realising the other girls were all staring at her.

"Sorry, I was distracted, what were you saying Lavender?" She stuttered out, self-consciously tucking her unruly hair behind her ears.

"I said, have you got your eye on anyone in particular? It would be nice to bring a betrothed to Percy's wedding, wouldn't it?" Lavender tittered.

"No, I've not thought much about it. You know I'd like to work on my career when we graduate, marriage can come later." Hermione replied defiantly, bending the truth slightly – she had thought about marriage constantly over the last few weeks, more than she ever had over the entire rest of her life. She was deadly honest in one thing though; she knew with surety that she would never sacrifice her career for matrimony.

"Careful now, you don't want to leave it too late – blink and you'll be an old maid!" Lavender giggled, her voice slightly hard under the girlish laughter. Hermione gritted her teeth, biting back a harsh reply, even as Ginny jumped to her defence:

"Hermione will have no trouble finding a brilliant husband, 'Lav-Lav'." Ginny rolled her eyes. Ron and Lavender's betrothal had created a rather tense, public enmity between the future sisters-in-law, with Ginny being fiercely, if somewhat overly, protective of Hermione. Before Hermione could say anything, Luna piped up, hot on Ginny's heels: "Yes, and she'll be holding down a wonderful career. If anyone can have a successful marriage and job it's our Hermione." The blonde girl smiled reassuringly, looking up from her sewing. She was darning a pair of blue silk stockings with red thread, insistent that Blibbering Humdingers were attracted to the colour.

"Well, It's not like we have a shortage of eligible men, is it? I've got my eye on Draco Malfoy for one, he is positively dreamy." Parvati swiftly picked up the thread of the old conversation, lying back on her four-poster bed.

"Mmm yes, he is gorgeous. That hair, and those grey eyes…" Ginny smirked.

"Ginny Weasley! I'm surprised you can have eyes for anyone but Harry; you've found yourself a handsome catch there." Padma giggled.

"I know- I'm so lucky. But it doesn't stop me admiring." Ginny laughed gaily, twirling her smooth hair between her fingers. "Plus they say he's the richest heir in England. Money is a very attractive prospect."

"Yes! Oh to be rich. And there's something so dark and mysterious about him." Lavender sighed.

Hermione rolled her eyes at her roommate's unoriginality. Of course the son of Death-Eaters would be 'dark' and 'mysterious' – it comes with the territory surely?

"He's the best at everything, minus you of course Hermione, and he doesn't even care. What a radical…" Padma mused.

"I think his friend is much more appealing. The dark one. He's so handsome." Luna broke in, a faint blush on her pale cheeks.

"Who? Theodore Nott?!" Lavender squealed.

"Yes. He's such a sad and soulful sleepyhead." Luna smiled dreamily. Parvati snorted, then unsuccessfully tried to turn it into a cough.

"Good on you Luna." Ginny replied encouragingly.

"Yes, he does have a sort of quiet charm, I suppose." Hermione agreed diplomatically. Naturally she'd support her dreamy friend, but honestly she'd even back up a troll at this point if it shared an opposing viewpoint to Lavender.

Padma and Parvati exchanged a scathing look about Luna, while Lavender giggled unkindly.

"I don't think you can compare Malfoy and Nott, really. I know which one I'd much rather wed." Padma crowed.

"-and bed!" Interjected Lavender with an impish grin. The trio of girls broke into raucous giggles as Luna simply smiled vacantly in reply.

"Yes, Looony, er, Luna, I rather think-"

"Shouldn't you both be heading off soon anyway?" Interjected Ginny, nipping Parvati's unkind teasing in the bud.

"Yes you're right, Filch would have our guts for garters if he caught us wandering the halls at this hour." Padma replied, rising from her seated position on her sister's four poster.

"Coming Luna?" She asked, already moving towards the dormitory door.

"Bye everyone." The pale blonde said sweetly, before exiting the room with Padma.

"I better head off too." Ginny added, masking a yawn and standing up.

"Bye Gin." Hermione smiled, feeling the ginger witch squeeze her shoulder in reply.

The remaining girls got into bed, Parvati and Lavender silent for the first time that evening, feigning sleep while Hermione read. The very second she nox'd the light though, the whispers started, as they did every night. She heard her name thrown in several times, alongside Ron's of course, and even the word 'spinster' at a couple of points. That horrible, achey-throat feeling from this afternoon, betrayal and sadness and loneliness all mixed up, threatened to came back once more, but this time she felt the tears looming. She heard the soft pad of paws and felt Crookshanks settle next to her on the bed, curling against her warm body as he did most nights. She fell asleep like that, one hand stroking in his matted fur as the silent tears slipped down her cheeks.

Two days later and Hermione was striding through the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, aiming to get as far away from Hogwarts as possible. She craved an afternoon devoid of pitying looks and Lavender's simpering, and hoped a walk on the far side of the lake could deliver this. She thanked Merlin that the grounds were so expansive that she could wander for hours and not be found.

How long could I disappear for til someone noticed I was gone? Harry's focussed on Ginny, Ginny's focussed on Harry, Ron on Lavender…

A faint tearing noise stirred her out of her thoughts, and she looked down in time to see her long skirt rip as it caught on the low bushes of the forest.

"Bother!" She muttered, reaching down to disentangle herself from the tendrils of a rather nasty looking bramble patch. A cough startled Hermione further, causing the bottom half of her skirt to fully tear away, exposing her grey-stockinged knees. Stumbling forward, she tripped over a large root and went flying towards the ground, squeaking as she felt large arms catch her around the waist and help her upright.

"Granger." Malfoy smirked, nodding his head in greeting as he stepped back from her, his blond hair shining in the dappled light of the clearing.

"Dra- Malfoy. Thank you." Hermione flushed, sliding her eyes away from his strange silver gaze.

"Like a tree-nymph fallen from the branches." He teased. "What are you doing alone out here?" He asked, eyeing her torn dress.

"Just having a walk. Getting away from the castle for a bit. Yourself?" She said, staring back at Malfoy defiantly. Sympathy flashed in his pale eyes, and she looked away with a sigh as he replied: "The same really. This is my favourite spot. My private place, for thinking."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I'll-" She stepped back, aiming to move out of the clearing when Malfoy caught her arm.

"No, no. Please." He released her swiftly, but the place where he had touched her throbbed, the skin beneath her long dress warm and flushed. She nodded, keeping her eyes averted.

"So... how have you been doing?" He smirked disarmingly, and she had to resist the temptation to smile back. She'd always had a soft spot for that particular smirk, secretly disagreeing wholeheartedly whenever Harry and Ron called it 'ferrety'.

"Same as always. Studying mostly, trying to finish the Ancient Runes translations." She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

"I remember when we used to do that together." Malfoy said, staring at Hermione intensely. She flicked her eyes towards him and then looked away again quickly.

"Yes… it was nice to have someone else to study with. It's a shame your parents put a stop to it." She replied tightly. Malfoy visibly stiffened at the hardness present her quiet voice.

As first years, Malfoy and Hermione had quickly recognised mutual academic talent, gravitating towards each other to share notes, ideas, theories. Malfoy's parents had found out midway through their second year, and had banned him from interacting with her again, with his reluctant compliance.

"My parents are… very difficult people. They've put a stop to a great many things over the years. My father thought it was for the best-"

Hermione simply raised her eyebrows scornfully at Malfoy's paltry excuses. She shook her head minutely.

Some things never change…

She made to leave when he continued: "-but it wasn't for the best, I know that now. I should never have let them talk me into agreeing – I was an idiot." Malfoy said quietly, his grey eyes staring at her cautiously. Hermione regarded him carefully for a moment, her expression guarded. He looked so sincere, and Malfoy being truly, bluntly sincere was such a rarity. His pure honesty was surprising, and honestly a little touching. Hermione nodded in lieu of a reply, hoping she wouldn't be regretting this later. She watched him carefully: a boyish, delighted grin flitting across his face briefly before the familiar Malfoy facade shuttered back into place; he nodded sharply back at her, his blond fringe falling over his eyes the only thing disrupting his polished, aristocratic image. He smoothed it back, and continued speaking, almost as if the moment of candour had never occurred: "Would you like to study together now? I want to pick your brains on the Runes definitions." Draco gestured towards a large oak tree, his satchel resting on the ground beneath its reaching branches. She hesitated.

What was there to lose?

(x) (x) (x)

"Alright, I'll take a look." Granger replied, moving past him and plucking the runes sheet out of his satchel. He watched her amber eyes skim it, her face suddenly filled with a familiar blazing look he remembered. She wore that self-same expression even as first year – eyes bright and lips pursed as she pored over piles of ancient books.

"See, Hagalaz can be translated more broadly as 'crisis' and not just as the traditional usage of 'bad weather'. I think using this alternate definition may fit better here." She interrupted his musings, one small finger pointing out the place on the old parchment. He walked to her in two long strides, taking the paper back off her and quickly reading through it.

"Yes, that makes a lot more sense." He smirked down at her, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes. He relished their proximity, having sorely missed the opportunity to be this close to her, and alone at that.

As if thinking the same thing, Granger suddenly stumbled back, breaking the eye-contact. Draco had to resist the temptation to draw close to her again.

"What time is it?" She asked quickly, covering the slightly awkward moment.

"It must be close to five." Draco offered.

"Oh? I thought it was later. I paused and lay so long in the moss by the stream, and just let myself dream..." Granger replied dreamily, peering up at the sky, as if trying to ascertain the time from the sun's position.

"Then can't you sit for a moment?" Draco offered, stepping towards the petite brunette once more. "Leaning back against this oak, staring up at the clouds, it's one of the only times I feel truly relaxed."

"We've got to be back for dinner soon." She replied, making no move to turn from him.

"Come on, I'll let you test me on Ancient Runes some more." Draco encouraged, passing the translation sheet back to the now-smiling witch.

"Well, just for a little while then." She conceded, making her way over to the soft grass beneath the oak. Draco watched her sit down against the tree, fruitlessly trying to arrange her torn skirt to cover as much leg as possible.

Thank Merlin for spring walks and bramble patches…

He realised he would just have to do his best to keep his eyes off her stockinged legs. A sudden image of Theo and his haunting dreams crept into Draco's mind, and it took insurmountable effort to try and supress the thought of Granger perching daintily on a desk, skirt pulled up to expose the tops of her wide, stockinged thighs.

He crossed to sit next to her, leaning his broad back against the base of the tree. Granger pulled his notebook out of his satchel and was flicking through his notes, and launched into work: examining his hypotheses on different Elder Futhark translations, explaining her own theories and asking for clarification on his. Draco listened and replied, nodding along as she spoke, privately enlightened by her ideas.

"-and I found out that this often comes up on the NEWTS exam." She chattered away, his ears pricking at the reference to NEWTS as she pointed out one runic section, circling the heading with one of his fine quills.

"Yes, I'd heard about you doing your NEWTS early, Granger, how utterly predictable." Draco smirked, shooting her a look. Granger smiled widely, thankfully seeing the hidden compliment in his words.

"Professor McGonagall had to apply for a special dispensation from the Ministry. We thought if I got all the vital exams done last year I could focus on some of the other ones this year, hence the fact I'm still doing Ancient Runes." She laughed. "Ron doesn't see the point though; he just keeps asking why I even bothered coming back." He watched her face fall with her words.

"Of course he does." Draco rolled his eyes. "Potter at least has a modicum of intelligence, I'll grant him that, but Weaselbee is simply an idiot." He drawled.

"That he is." She agreed quietly.

Draco was surprised at her rare expression of disloyalty; she would ordinarily defend her oafish friends to the death. Draco could only presume this had ceased to be the case when it came to one Ronald Weasley.

"Yes, I heard about his recent betrothal – although I had heard a whisper previously that you two were betrothed." He continued, hoping he wasn't putting the cat among the pigeons too much with his words. Granger opened her mouth, eyes flashing, and he pressed on, getting in before she spoke: "He and that flower girl seem far better suited, if I may say so, she seems rather a dolt." He knew he'd hit the right note when she bit back a smile.

"You know her name is Lavender." She bit back a smile, mock-tutting at his words. "And Ron and I were never truly betrothed. In assumption and thought only." She continued, slightly more acerbically.

"And in feeling-?" He prompted further. They were dancing on the abyss, and it was like Draco was in an airless vacuum as he waited for her reply.

"I didn't love him, if that's what you're asking." Granger replied pointedly, sending them both tumbling in. The air zipped back and Draco could hear the birds chirp once more as he grinned back at her.

"Anyway, you never finished your Latin translations." Granger prompted hastily, her cheeks flushing appealingly in what Draco guessed to be mild embarrassment. She picked up his notebook and pressed it into his hands.

"You genuinely want to listen to my boring translations?" He teased.

"Yes, I do." The petite witch replied boldly, gesturing for him to read.

"On your head be it." He smirked, opening the notebook and beginning to read.

As the afternoon meandered on, Granger relaxed sleepily – at some point she had moved to sit fully by Draco, and eventually they were pressed together, her left side flush to his right. He was midway through reading out another translated passage when he felt her head drop onto his right shoulder, her breathing having gone deep and steady. Draco stopped reading, closing his notebook gently and looking down at the sleeping girl. Her long, bushy hair flowed down his chest, and she had curled into him, her stocking legs tucked tightly against his. He drank it all in: her dark lashes resting on cheeks dusted with freckles, her small, snubbed nose, her rosy mouth, plump lips gently parted. He revelled at the chance to stare at her face undisturbed, not sure if or when he'd have the chance again.

(x) (x) (x)

Hermione stirred, at first only conscious of being warm and curled up.

Like Crookshanks she thought, absentmindedly.

She slowly blinked her eyes open and yawned, then noticed the patrician blond smirking down at her. A split second later she was sitting bolt upright, apologising profusely to a smirking Malfoy.

"I'm so terribly sorry, I haven't been sleeping so well and I must have just drifted off." She exclaimed, overly aware of her flushed cheeks.

"Are my translations so boring that they send even the brightest of witches to sleep?"

"Not at all!" Hermione exclaimed. "Your voice is just so calming; I couldn't help but be relaxed." She said, more honestly than she had intended, her brain still addled by the impromptu nap.

Merlin, I really need to THINK before I speak!

"Glad to be of service." Draco replied, a note of sincerity in his deep voice. Hermione craned her head up to look at the darkening sky above.

"The sun's setting, Malfoy. Truly, I'd better go." She made to move, pushing her unruly hair off her shoulders. The tall wizard stood up, swinging his satchel over his shoulder before offering a large hand down to her.

"We'll go together. I'll have you at the castle in ten minutes." He smiled reassuringly, looking remarkably un-Malfoylike for a second. She supposed Malfoys weren't often reassuring. Hermione hesitated briefly, before taking his hand, allowing him to pull her onto her feet.

"Alright, Draco. Lead on." She replied, her small, warm hand clutched tight in his. Neither of them could wipe the grins from their faces all the way back towards the castle.