A/N: Trying out something new. The story is going to be a bit confusing at first, but it will come together in later chapters. I hope you like it!

(Edit: Draco is briefly involved with someone else at the start of the story. Sorry for not including a warning initially. And thank you to those who were kind, respectful and mature about it.)

Prologue:

She awoke with a jolt, overhead bins flinging open, flight attendants moving swiftly through the aisles, and the lights in the cabin flickering out, as the sound of the pilot's voice came in through the speakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. We are now crossing a zone of turbulence. Cabin crew and passengers, please return to your seats and keep your seat belts fastened until further notice. Thank y —"

The plane shook again, violently this time.

Commotion broke out amongst the passengers in economy. The audible gasps of first-time fliers, the sounds of parents trying to calm their young.

"Please be seated. This is your pilot speaking. I repeat, please b —"

Rapidly fastening her seatbelt, Hermione clutched tightly at the armrests on either side of her. The young man to her right followed suit, accidentally grazing the back of her hand with his. Only then did she remember he was there, in the seat beside her. They had barely looked to each other since boarding, let alone said a word.

With one glance in his direction, she took note of three things. First, the black dye in his hair had already begun to fade, reduced to an dull, muted shade of black as opposed to the midnight shade in his passport photo. Second, he was sweating profusely around his hairline and under the collar of his secondhand Muggle clothes. Third, his eyes were squeezed shut and he was grasping at his armrests as if his life depended on it, which after another violent shake of the plane, it probably did.

Quickly refocusing, Hermione slammed her eyes shut, the cold silver Caroline Grey's wedding ring growing tighter around her finger with each toss and each tremor of the plane. She knew going into the mission that it wasn't going to be easy but she had no idea just how difficult it was going to be, and how soon she was going to wish she had never yes.

Chapter One:

Five Months Later

"H-harder," she panted, her mouth falling agape as he bent her firmly over the table and thrusted deep inside her, hitting just the right place, at just the right time. "F-fuck me, fuck me! Yes, yes! Oh, my G — !"

In a matter of seconds she came, her walls squeezing and twitching around him for what felt like the third time in just the one session.

He quickly followed her in her in release, pulling her up against him and kissing her neck as they rode it out together, the intensity and the rapid breaths between them slowly but surely dwindling down from that warm, electric, familiar high.

"Fuck …" the red-haired barista breathed, dipping her head down as she slowly gathered herself. "That was what, like the fifth time this week? One of these days, my boss is going to catch us in here, Jason."

Separating from her in the quiet that followed, Jason yanked off the condom and disposed of it in nearby bin, making sure that it was hidden under a couple of napkins as to not tip anyone off. Although he was unfamiliar with Starbucks and their policies, he was sure that Anna, the barista he'd just had sex with in the backroom of the Starbucks where she worked, would most certainly lose her job if her boss had even the slightest idea of what they'd just done, and where, and how often.

"Don't worry," he said to her, a hint of a smile on his lips as she stopped him from buttoning his shirt up. "Again?"

Gently biting down on her bottom lip, Anna glanced up at him and nodded. "I seriously can't get enough of you," she confessed, quietly standing on her toes so she could whisper the rest into his ear. " … and by you, I mean your cock."

His eyes fell shut when he heard that, and for a few seconds he allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of her body and her lips, but their moment was soon interrupted by the loud, piercing ring of his phone.

"Please don't answer that," Anna murmured, kissing her way down his body.

As much as he'd have liked to do just that, the sensible part of his brain which he usually ignored in moments like this, simply wouldn't allow it.

With a deep sigh, Jason backed away, met with a pout from the barista. "Sorry," he uttered, using one hand to fasten his buttons and tug his trousers back on, and the other to grab his phone out of the back pocket, the name Caroline glaring back at him in big, bright letters. "It's her …"

"Of course it's her," Anna mumbled, reluctantly grabbing her clothes from floor and sliding them on in the dimness of the backroom.

Jason's bottom lip twitched as if he meant to say something to that, but ultimately didn't. Instead he answered the call, taking to the far side of the room the same way he had all those other times.

"Hello?" he answered.

Without a moment of delay, his greeting was met with a long stretch of silence, wherein he was sure that his wife was pressing her lips together in the frown that she had seemingly reserved just for him.

"I'm not even going to ask," she said, utterly drained by the sound of it.

"What do you mean?"

"This is the fifth time this week, Dra — Jason."

He swallowed the lump in the back of his throat, glancing back at Anna to make sure she wasn't listening in before he said anything else. Relieved to find that she had gone off to the front of the coffee shop, he relaxed, refocusing. "Listen, now's not a good time. I'll be home in ten minutes. We can talk about this then."

"There's nothing to talk about. You already know where I stand," Caroline inserted, in that tone.

"Yes, and I was careful. I'm always careful," he said to her, clearly and calmly.

"Whatever. Remember to pick up milk on your way home. We're out."

Rolling his eyes, Jason nodded even though she couldn't see him. "Yeah, okay. See you in a bit."

With only that, his wife ended the call before he'd so much as lowered the phone.

One Hour Later

The quiet click of footsteps filled her ears as she lay awake on the couch, a book in hand and the warm glow of her reading lamp casting its light in that small corner of the living room.

It was late.

Looking to the doorway for only a moment, she redirected her gaze to her copy of Gone Girl as the sound of his footsteps grew louder and closer.

He came to the doorway, the floorboards creaking under his last step.

For a good, long moment, his entrance was met with silence. It was only as he cleared his throat that she glanced up from her book, pretending as though she hadn't noticed him until that moment.

In that light, he looked almost like his old self.

"You're late," Hermione said, unperturbed if not for the flicker of annoyance in her eyes.

Sparing a moment to glance at the time on the wall clock, Draco exhaled, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes. "Yeah, I, er … I got lost on the way home. There was traffic on the bridge that I usually take, so I tried another road and I just … I don't know."

The brunette rolled her eyes, glancing back down at her book after. "It's a miracle you got away with anything in school if that's your idea of an explanation."

"I'm serious," he said. "Go out and look for yourself if you don't believe me."

Calmly turning to the next page, Hermione muffled a yawn with the back of her hand. "I believe you."

His eyebrows bounced up. "Really?"

"No," she said plainly, sliding her bookmark in place before looking to him. "Did you remember to pick up the milk like I asked?"

Screwing his face as he realized that he'd forgotten, Draco sighed, shaking his head no. "I'll do it now."

Hermione tensed, trying not to frown as she got up. "Don't bother. The shops are closed."

"I'm sure one of them is open."

Brushing past him, she muttered the first words that came to mind. "I'm surprised you have the energy to go back out considering what you were doing all doing all night."

"First of all, it wasn't all night. Second …" He followed her into the kitchen, watching from the doorway as she unloaded the dishwasher. "I would hate to deny you the milk you need for your morning tea. We both know what happens when Caroline doesn't get her fix."

Hermione glared at him, this time deeper. "Fuck you."

"Fuck you."

"Why are you always like this?"

He exhaled deeply. "Whatever it is you're trying to say, just say it. Stop dancing around the problem. For once!"

"There wouldn't be a problem if you'd just focus!"

"I am focused!"

"On fucking everything besides the mission! Just fuck off if you're not going to be useful!"

"Maybe I will!"

"Oh, please do!"

"You know what? Okay," Draco blurted, grabbing the keys from his pocket.

Hermione tensed, nearly breaking the plate in her grasp as he stormed off. "Don't bother coming back!" she shouted.

Opening the front door with a loud screech, Draco left, the sound of his footsteps vanishing into the driveway as he unlocked his car and reversed out.

Still in the kitchen, Hermione swallowed the buildup of anger in her throat, tossing the plate back into the dishwasher and slipping out through the backdoor of the house for some air.

Despite it all, they usually didn't argue like that.

In fact they'd gotten along for the majority of the past five months together. It was only in recent weeks that the energy between them had started to change. She couldn't speak for him, of course, but she knew in her own heart that she missed home more than words could have described. Not so much her old flat in London, but her friends and family. Her tiny office at the Ministry, even.

Suffice to say her patience was wearing thin, and her partner on the mission did nothing to help. In fact he'd only made it harder for her to stay focused, what with all his sleeping around and his disinterest in how it came across. They weren't actually in a relationship, but they were, at least, supposed to give the illusion of one. In the back of her mind she supposed there was nothing more believable than a bit of cheating, but that wasn't the point. The point was that Draco had made a habit of putting himself in vulnerable situations, and all with a random girl whose name he could barely remember most times.

For all he knew, the high-pitched barista was onto him, and working for The Collective.

They apparently had eyes and ears everywhere in the city.

Apparently.

Hermione had yet to prove their existence, let alone take them down as she and Draco had been tasked, but she had still made a point to at least try. On the other hand, her partner had seemingly given up, instead spending his days and his nights doing whatever and whomever he pleased.

Releasing the tension in a long, pent up breath, Hermione sat on the railing which surrounded the back porch of the house, and grabbed a cigarette from her pocket, lighting it up as she stared out into the fields in the distance.

She normally didn't smoke.

In fact she'd always found it to be rather disgusting, but for some reason she'd picked up a pack at the shops the other day. They just called out to her, the way the library used to in the old days.

"Pardon me, miss. I'm sorry to bother you but …"

Thinking that Draco had returned, Hermione glanced to the left, her insides jumbling up as a man she had never met before approached her house.

"C-can I help you?" she blurted, instinctively feeling for her wand as she quickly straightened.

Tall, brown-haired and blue-eyed, the strange man halted in his tracks, realizing he'd given her a shock.

"Sorry. I just … I couldn't help but notice that you're smoking," he said, nodding to the cigarette between her fingers.

Hermione glanced down at it, briefly. "Er … yeah. Is that a problem?"

"Kind of. I live in the house next-door, and one of my dogs has breathing problems. I don't mean to be an asshole, but …"

"Oh," she realized, her eyebrows twitching up. "There's no need to apologize. I-I normally don't smoke. In fact …" Without a second of wait, she tossed the cigarette to her feet and stepped on it.

The strange man, who was apparently her neighbour, nodded to her in thanks. "Thanks. And I'm sorry for coming up to you in the middle of the night like this."

"That's okay," Hermione said to him, as if she actually meant it. "If you don't mind my asking, how long have you been living in this neighbourhood?"

"About a month now," he answered, stepping into the light a little bit before extending his hand to her. "Eric."

Taking note of the fact that he was quite a bit younger than she had originally thought, Hermione smiled, shaking hands with her new neighbour. "Caroline."

He smiled back. "It's nice to meet you, Caroline. Have you been living here long?"

"Five months and some weeks."

"And you're originally from England, I take it?"

For a split second she looked to him bewildered, suddenly remembering. "Oh — of course. My accent," she laughed, relaxing. "And yes, I'm from England. Born and raised."

"I have some family there. In Brighton, I think it's called," Eric offered.

"Oh, do you? Brighton's a beautiful city. The last time I was there I had the best fish and chips of my life," Hermione recalled, suddenly hungry.

"Well, hey … I'm sure it's nothing compared to what you're used to but there's this new fish and chips place about five minutes away from here," he told her. "My girlfriend loves going there."

There was a dash of surprise in Hermione's eyes. "I suppose I should give it a try then."

"Yeah, you really should," Eric nodded. "I'm sure your husband will like it, too."

Her stomach twitched a little. "H-how exactly do you know that I have one?"

He chewed the inside of his mouth, slightly embarrassed going by the colour of his cheeks. "I, uh … I kind of figured from the ring on your finger … and the raised voices that I heard earlier."

"Oh." Hermione gulped, feeling her own cheeks begin to fill with colour. "Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it," Eric reassured her. "I stay up late most nights anyway."

"That makes two of us," she chimed in, glancing over her shoulder as she heard a car pull up into the driveway. Draco's car. "Sounds like he's back."

Her neighbour nodded, taking that as his cue to leave. "I guess we'll see each other around."

"Yeah, I guess we will," Hermione agreed, smiling to him shortly. "Have a good night."

"You, too," Eric smiled, retreating to his house as she watched for a second, her thoughts swiftly interrupted as the backdoor creaked open behind her.

Without looking, she rolled her eyes, walking past Draco on her way inside.

"Who was that?" he asked, letting the door swing shut as he faced her.

"That was Eric. Our new neighbour," Hermione clarified, even though she felt she didn't have to. In the kitchen now, she couldn't help but notice the fresh container of milk on the counter, still in the grocery bag. "That's where you went?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow at him.

The wizard nodded, putting the milk away. "Don't act so surprised."

Briefly taken aback, she snapped out of it as she suddenly felt a yawn coming on. "I suppose it's time for bed then."

"I'll take the couch tonight," Draco decided.

"What? No, no, you can't tonight. It's my turn. We have a system."

"Merlin's sake, Granger. Just let me be nice for once," he groaned.

Opening her mouth in protest, she fell silent as he left the kitchen just like that, curiously leaving the bedroom to her for the night.

The Next Night

Boarding the train at Waterfront Station, Draco squeezed his way to the back, the stench of vodka caught in his clothes. He'd gone out for a drink with a few of his coworkers. On his way out, one of the other pub goers had accidentally bumped into him and spilled their drink all over his new coat. He pulled his wand out to clean it after, but eventually decided against magic. Even though it was dark out, and even though none of the passersby were looking, he couldn't risk being seen.

Suffice to say Hermione wasn't going to be pleased.

She'd bought the coat for him a few months back, given that his only outerwear had consisted of traveling cloaks and other wizarding clothes until he'd left for the mission.

Offering his seat to a pregnant woman, he decided to stand as the train sped through Waterfront, and down the Expo Line.

"Thank you."

Draco glanced up from his phone, through which he'd been texting Anna to hold off on the plans they'd made for later that week. "Er … no need," he said, offering a quick, rather curt smile to the pregnant woman.

One thing he missed about home was the freedom of being able to roam about without having to chat to a bunch of strangers along the way. They weren't quite rude in England, but they weren't nearly as talkative over there as they were in Canada.

Hermione loved it, of course.

The few times he had gone to the shops with her, or to the bank, she had given her — or rather Caroline's — life story to at least ten different people. For someone who was bullied for being an insufferable know-it-all all throughout her school years, she really was quite friendly.

Even towards that random bloke next-door.

Ethan or Eric or whatever his name was.

"Sorry if this is rude, but is that your natural hair colour?"

Draco tore his gaze away from his phone for the second time, a twitch of surprise in his gut at the question. "No," he blurted without meaning to, chest knotting up all of a sudden. "I mean yes. I-I'm greying a bit, so I decided to dye my hair, but I chose too dark of a colour." The more words that came out, the worse it sounded, but he kept going. "That's why it looks fake."

The pregnant woman nodded along utterly clueless, motioning to her own hair which appeared to have been dyed at one point. Probably before she was pregnant. "I used to dye my hair before … that's why I asked," she smiled. "That colour looks great on you. Do you mind if I touch it?"

"Er …" His stomach lurched as she leaned towards him suddenly. And for some reason, perhaps because she was pregnant, he tilted his head down so she could reach. This would never happen at home, he couldn't help but think.

"This feels great," she said to him cheerfully, bringing her mouth towards his ear in the seconds that followed. "I don't mean to freak you out, but there's a creepy looking guy a few rows down who's been looking straight at you for the past five minutes."

Draco's eyebrows bounced up, and before he could turn his head around to look, he felt the to-be mother grab his wrist.

"Don't look," she cautioned, speaking to him urgently, but maintaining a calm expression.

He asked the first question that came to mind. "Why not?"

"Well, for one, he looks like he could take five of you at the same time."

"That's a bit presumptuous," Draco uttered, resisting the urge to tell her that he could transfigure the bloke into a Christmas ornament and hang him up on one of the trees in Pacific Centre if he'd the desire to do so.

She smirked. "He's also wearing an Afterlife uniform. Black leather jacket with an upside martini glass stitched to the back. One of the bouncers, I'd say."

"Afterlife? As in the nightclub?"

The pregnant woman nodded.

"What's so bad about that place? Apart from the awful music and drug use, I mean."

"You didn't hear the news?" She raised an eyebrow at Draco in surprise. "The owner of Afterlife and a few of his bouncers were being investigated for a bunch of fucked up shit like a month ago. They apparently beat the shit out of some university student, but the charges were dropped," she explained. "Come to think of it, you kind of resemble the guy they beat up. Tall, nicely dressed, about the same age … English, even. He was blond, though."

Draco ignored the anxious twist in his gut. "I'm sure it's only a coincidence."

"Yeah, you're probably right," the pregnant woman nodded, looking up at the nearest window as the train pulled up to the next station. "Anyway, this is me. It was nice chatting," she smiled, nodding to him in thanks as he gently helped her up. "I'd steer clear of that bouncer if I were you. Have a good one."

Before he could say anything, she squeezed past him and through the sliding doors.

Although she'd advised against it, he glanced over his shoulder as the train took off again, chest pounding the second he saw the guy that the pregnant woman had been talking about. Indeed, he looked as though he could have taken five of Draco at the same time, and all without a sweat, but that wasn't the alarming part.

The part that truly made Draco's skin crawl, was the manner in which the bouncer was looking at him.

Much like Greyback used to.

Swallowing hard, the wizard discreetly turned his head back around, remembering in those few moments that Afterlife was located right near the pub where he'd been earlier. There was a good chance the bouncer had seen him outside and followed him onto the train.

In a moment of panic, he pulled his phone out and sent a text to the only person that felt right.

To: Caroline Grey

Where are you?

She was usually good at replying promptly, but that night she took her time. He couldn't help but worry, his mind racing with all sorts of possibilities.

To: Jason Grey

Closing up. Why?

Hurriedly, he typed what little he could as he reached the station closest to Caroline's bookshop.

To: Caroline Grey

Stay there and lock the doors. I'll meet you in five minutes.

He switched his phone to silent after, knowing she'd call and demand an explanation, urgently. Although she was more than capable of taking care of herself, there was a small part of him that felt doubly responsible for her safety than he did his own. In part due to the promise that he had made to Potter before leaving for the mission, and in part due to his own instincts.

They weren't actually married, but he still thought of her as family, strangely. She was the closest thing to a real friend that he had on what felt like an endless mission, and he realized just then … how stupid he'd been the past five months. Whilst Hermione had kept close watch on all of the places The Collective were said to be — a lounge downtown, a park and a few other locations — Draco couldn't help but feel as though he'd been asleep the past five months.

Needless to say, he'd finally woken up.

Abruptly speeding off at the next station, he felt the bouncer follow him.

Given the hour, and the part of the city where it was located, the station was mostly empty. To his great displeasure, there was only a small group of high school students and an elderly woman on the platform. Without glancing back, he rushed past them and towards the stairs, taking them out onto the glistening city streets.

The bookshop was only a short walk away, but he wasn't sure he wanted to direct the bouncer to where Hermione was waiting. Pulling his phone out again, he used the reflection on the empty screen to see if he was still being followed. Surely enough, the bouncer emerged from the station only a few seconds after him.

If he hadn't been undercover, he'd have simply Apparated out of sight, but he couldn't do that.

Taking to one of the busier streets, Draco hoped to lose the bouncer amongst the crowd of people who'd just gotten off the bus. Slipping between them, he hopped onto the bus without a moment of thought, ducking his head as the bouncer walked right past the bus doors. It was only as the bus took off that Draco stood up, glancing through the back window to find the bouncer looking for him in the crowd, going after a similar looking young man until he realized he had the wrong person.

That was fucking close, Draco thought to himself, stepping off the bus two stops later, directly in front of the bookshop.

Hermione paced the front, periodically glancing down at her phone to see if he'd called or texted her back. Although she'd never gone through it when she was in school, she felt much like a high school girl waiting for her boyfriend to text her back. Except Draco wasn't her boyfriend, and he had always been rather bad at texting her back.

They only really texted each other when they had to — to open the front door if one of them had forgotten their key, to remind the other to pick up milk or some sort of household necessity, etc.

It was never like this.

It was never anything serious.

Holding in the urge to call him again, her insides jumped as someone knocked on the back door.

To her knowledge, Draco had gone out drinking with some friends from the university. He was a professor there. Or rather, Jason Grey was a professor there. He taught Business to a small class of first year students. Why Kingsley had assigned Draco the professor job instead of her, a much more qualified person, Hermione had no idea. She figured Kingsley wanted to give her an easier, less time consuming job, so she could focus more on the mission.

At least she hoped.

Brushing past the bookshelves and into the unlit corridor, Hermione approached the back door, a twitch of uncertainty in her stomach before she felt her wand grow hot.

That was the signal.

Without a moment of thought, she unlocked the back door and opened it, hurriedly stepping back as Draco came racing inside. His hair was a mess and his cheeks were bright red as though he'd been out, walking in the cold for quite a long time. Roughly pressing the door closed and locking it, he slowly turned around to face her, exhaling.

"What happened?" Hermione demanded, question marks in her eyes as she looked to him.

"There was a … there was a woman on the train …" Draco panted, collecting his breath. "She … she said the man was staring … an Afterlife bouncer. Something about a university student … he had blond hair like I do … it … it's too much of a coincidence. They know … they have to … to know about us …"

She pressed her lips together impatiently, bringing him into the front of the bookshop and giving him her water bottle. "Slowly now. Have a drink and explain everything to me."

Pushing the bottle away, he instead approached the front desk, positioning himself in front of the computer.

"Wh-what do you think you're doing?" Hermione blurted.

Without a word, Draco opened the browser and searched up Afterlife, dozens of articles popping up detailing an assault that had apparently taken place a month prior. He clicked on the first one and made room so Hermione could read it, too.

After a few minutes of reading, she looked to him questioningly.

"You think Afterlife know about us?"

Draco breathed out, running a hand through his hair. "I don't what to think. All I know is that one of theirs were following me just now. What reason would they have to do that if not because they know?"

Chewing on her bottom lip in thought, Hermione weighed the possibilities. "Well, you do look a lot like the student they assaulted a month ago. He even has your hair colour — the real one."

"Exactly."

"So, why've they not come after us if they know?"

"Maybe they don't know enough," Draco speculated. "I'm sure they're trying to be more careful this time."

"Following you probably isn't the best way to go about doing that."

"Well, clearly they're not very good at covering their tracks, are they?"

Hermione nodded in agreement. "I'll go there tomorrow."

"You'll what?" Draco snapped.

"I'll go to Afterlife," she furthered. "In disguise, obviously."

"That's arguably the worst idea you've ever had."

"What's so bad about it? I'll put on a dress, tweak my appearance a little, and see what I can find in there," the witch detailed. "This is the closest thing we've had to a lead since coming here. Do you not want to solve this thing and go home?"

His jaw tensed. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"It's — forget it. You're right," he uttered, distantly, moving away from the computer now. "You go to Afterlife tomorrow, and I'll see if I can find that student, ask him what happened that night. He's studying photography at the university where I work."

Hermione looked to him a for a moment, a trace of concern in her eyes. "Strange that you didn't know of the assault until now."

"You didn't either."

"I was too busy investigating the locations we were given," she countered, folding her arms. "So, are we finally going to work together?"

"About that …" Draco began, meeting eyes with his partner. "I'm going to call it off with Anna."

"The barista?"

He nodded.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "Why? I thought you liked her."

"I do like her," he offered, his bottom lip twitching after. "I like having sex with her at least … but it's too risky now. Considering what happened tonight, I can't be drawing attention to her just because I'm horny. She's an innocent person."

"You do realize that's exactly what I've been telling you all this time, don't you?"

Draco sighed. "Yes, and I'm sorry that I've taken so long to wake up."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione walked past him, grabbing her car keys and bag from the counter. "If you're that horny, just have a wank like a normal person," she suggested to him casually, leading the way as they left the bookshop, and approached the red car that was parked along the curb.

She pushed the button to unlock it, climbing into the drivers seat, as Draco climbed into the front passenger seat beside her.

Once they were buckled in and moving, he looked to her, curiously.

"Is that what you've been doing all this time?"

"What are you on about?" Hermione asked, driving towards the bridge.

"It's been five months. Surely you've had a wank yourself."

A small jolt of surprise went through her, but she didn't show it in her face. "I'm quite certain my sex life has nothing to do with the mission."

Draco snorted. "So, you can take a bunch of snide, unnecessary jabs at me for my sex life, but I can't ask if you've had a wank in the past five months?"

"Exactly."

He narrowed his eyes at her, dully. "What about neighbour boy?"

"Eric?" she questioned. "What about him?"

"Would you fuck him?"

"Malfoy!" she admonished, her mouth falling agape.

He snorted with laughter. "Oh, lighten up a little. We're adults."

"So? That doesn't mean I'm required to decide whether I'd have sex with every handsome guy I come across."

"Oh, so you think he's handsome?" Draco teased.

Hermione glared at him, but only briefly as she was driving. "First of all, he has a girlfriend."

"Second?"

"Second," she inserted. "He thinks I'm married to you, idiot."

"Well, let's think about it differently …" Draco suggested. "If he were single, and if you had met under lighter circumstances, would you consider it?"

Her lips twitched apart as if she'd meant to tell him off again, only to fall silent as she gave it an ounce of thought.

"I-I don't know. This is weird. He has a girlfriend," she uttered.

"It's just for fun, Granger."

"I know that, but I just — I can't. Okay?"

Realizing he'd touched something of a nerve, Draco dropped the subject, unbuckling his seatbelt as Hermione pulled into their driveway. Without saying anything, they stepped out of the car and through the front door of the house, taking to separate corners the way they did every night.

Hermione stayed awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling as she lay in bed, her thoughts clouded and her insides tangled. Looking to the door to make sure it was closed, she slid a hand under the covers and closed her eyes, surprising even herself at what slowly but surely came to mind.

A/N: What do you think?