"Everything you do is a gem in my collection
I will follow you until I will get your perfection"

Perfection, Oh Land

Once you were a seventh year, the classes you took had at least half the students in them than years past. So you became familiar with a particular group of people with the same skill set, and after seven years most of them were a kind of family.

Ever since the battle though, there was a visible shift in all of Hermione's classes. Draco was in all of them except for one – Muggle Studies, but even then she spent a good deal of time around him.

In their sixth year the Slytherins were their own type of club in which no Gryffindor, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff could gain access. Draco had been the obvious leader. Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass made up the rest of the Slytherin cult. Crabbe, Goyle, Millicent and a few others did not have the same classes after their owl exams.

They would rally around one another and make everything a fierce competition. Pansy and Daphne hung off of the boys as if they were coat racks.

Needless to say, things were very different now.

The only seventh-year Gryffindors left taking Potions were Hermione, Harry, Seamus, Dean and Parvati. They were joined by other talented Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs whose chosen career path included the seventh and hardest year of potions, still taught by Professor Snape.

"And does anyone – besides Ms. Granger - know the exact time to simmer a successful Draught of Peace?" – Snape drawled as he crossed the bubbling cauldrons in front of the classroom.

Hermione had become used to not answering until it was evident that no one else knew the answer, which was a good portion of the time. But she sat idly, waiting until Professor Snape would give her a defeated nod.

"Seven minutes, sir." Hermione answered obediently.

Unlike the years past, there was no uppity, know-it-all style of answering that Professors and students had become used to. This year she was always collected, and honestly answered to avoid wasting time in class rather than to turn her nose up at the others.

Draco, who sat a table in front of her and Harry looked behind only to meet eyes with the brunette briefly. He had tried avoiding her since the talk in the dungeons, but living with one another and having classes together made it hard to win that battle.

Noticing the interaction, Harry nudged her and raised an eyebrow.

"After class," she hissed.

"Ms. Granger, the ten points I was going to award Gryffindor for your, once again, right answer - is not needed after your rude interruption." Snape glared at the two before turning back to the cauldrons to continue his lesson.

Thirty minutes of her answering more questions, and demonstrating the right way to boil a batch of the potion went by before they were dismissed and Hermione gathered her books into her leather tote before shuffling through the room and into the crowded dungeons with her raven-haired best friend.

"What's going on between you two?" Harry inquired once again.

Hermione shrugged, knowing the animosity Harry felt towards Draco. While it was a feeling Harry was entitled to, Hermione did not feel like having a discussion on why she was going to put her differences beside her in order to fulfill Dumbledore's wish. At least for today there would be no divulgence.

So she found herself in a white lie again, "He's missing rounds. So it's been rather awkward after our fights."

"You need to speak to Dumbledore about this," Harry jutted out as they entered the Great Hall, "If he won't listen, Mcgonagall will."

Avoiding the fight, she nodded.

"Harry! 'Mione!" The familiar, warm voice sent shivers up her spine. It had actually been a few days since she had seen her boyfriend. As they both turned around, she felt his arms wrap around her torso.

"Missed you," He whispered into her ear.

Harry awkwardly looked on as he so often had done since they made their feelings apparent. But nonetheless he had been happy with their relationship and had seen it coming even before they did. Harry's own relationship with Ron's sister, however, was something he struggled with keeping in tact, especially after the night Voldemort died.

The trio made their way up the stairs for the long journey to the Gryffindor common room. It was an afternoon ritual for them. Before dinner they would all go to sit and catch up, do homework, or just sit and enjoy one of the rare occasions to enjoy each other's company.

When they reached the infamous fat lady who guarded the Gryffindor Tower, Ron spoke, "Canary Creames."

Obediently the portrait swung open to let the trio in. While Hermione no longer lived in the Gryffindor Tower, the scarlet and gold décor still felt like home. There was a few students scattered in the common room who briefly looked up as the walked in, but no one really bothered them any more. Hermione led the boys to a couch by the fireplace and started pulling out her potions homework while Ron took a seat beside her.

"Are you going to be at the quidditch match this Saturday? Ron asked, taking out his own scrolls of parchment and laying them across the table.

"Of course," she answered, looking up at Harry, "Wouldn't miss the first game of the season or a chance to see my two favorite boys in their uniforms."

She and Ron laughed, but they knew Harry was distracted. He had been and no one really tried to change that. Ginny was the only one who could get through to him and Hermione made sure to talk with her often about how her best friend was doing.

"Harry, what are you working on?" She inquired as he scribbled away at his homework.

"Potions… unfortunately I don't have you correcting my answers in the morning, so I actually have to try."

Ron snapped his head in her direction to find her mouth agape, "Harry, please. I only do it to help…"

"Help? Hermione he does not deserve your help. He does not deserve Dumbledore's help. They should have hauled him off to Azkaban that night!"

Harry's voice began to raise, and those around them took notice, "I lost my father, then I lost Sirius, and now Dumbledore - and to someone who intended on murdering him."

Hermione was speechless and had not expected this conversation. Harry had never let on to what he had been feeling, but now she knew what had been bottled up all these months – The entirety of the Gryffindor Common Room did.

While the past years had yielded many fights between her and Ron, Harry was a different story. They rarely fought and when they did it never felt like this. There was an obvious rift, and Hermione knew that telling the both of them what Dumbledore had asked of her would not help matters.

Shaking her head, Hermione started putting her parchments and books back into her bag, "I'm going to head back to my room before dinner, I should be writing my reports…"

Ron noticed her voice shaking, "I'll walk you down, Hermione."

Harry went back to his homework not acknowledging the two of them leave.

They reached the statue guarding the Head Boy and Head Girl's dormitory. A Roman-esque statue of a beautifully draped woman, who was unfortunately missing her head.

"Inter spem et metum," She whispered, and the statue moved aside.

Ron raised a curious eyebrow, "That's a little complicated…"

"Draco made it up – I don't fight him, it's useless," Hermione shrugged. As she stared at Ron, she realized how long it had been since she had truly been alone with him. Usually they'd meet at meals, if they even had the chance, or before games. But there were always other places to be and other responsibilities they both had to take care of.

This was nice.

Reaching out she moved a strand of his defiant red hair from his eyes, "I've missed you."

He grinned at her unexpected comment, "I've missed you too … where did that come from?"

She grabbed his hand, leading him inside the elaborately decorated common room. The curtains were still open, letting the sunlight inside – so she knew Draco was not home. Draco preferred their dwellings to be dark and cold, much like his former residence in the dungeons.

For now though, her and Ron were alone.

Before she answered his questions, she threw down her bag and took a seat next to him on the couch, "I don't know. Ever since last year we've all been disconnected and I know I haven't been the best girlfriend –"

He covered her mouth with his hand, "Stop. You have so much on your plate and I don't need you adding this. Any time I see you is enough for me."

It was a little bit sick how good he was to her. Hermione sighed not really knowing what to say before she noticed his shirt had moved up his torso revealing the scar that Fenir Greyback had left during the last battle.

"Oh Ron," she traced the outline with her finger. It was a dark red color against his pale skin, "I thought you had seen Madame Pomfrey to heal this."

He shrugged, "I don't want it healed. It's a reminder… plus Harry's scar has always looked cool, so thought this would make me more interesting."

They both laughed. Ron always knew how to make her laugh which was one of the things she needed most. Her parents had consistently reminded her that the levels of stress she put on herself were not healthy or normal. Ron had a way of easing the tension. Even in times like these…

Hermione moved closer pressing her lips gently atop his.

It had been awhile since they had been alone together and Ron immediately placed his hand behind her head to hold her to him. Their lips moved in a systematic rhythm they had created and knew by heart. The room was so quiet that they could only hear one another's breathing.

Everything was at peace -

"I thought you were supposed to be on duty, Granger."

His arrogant drawl snapped both of them out of the trance. Neither had heard someone enter. Hermione stood up quickly, crossing her arms over her chest. Draco noticed how flushed her cheeks had become and wondered if it was because of her rather passionate make-out session with her boyfriend, or the fact that she had been caught in the position she was in.

Flustered, she shook her head and grabbed the small leather planner from the table and flipped to the week, "I do not have duty today, you do."

Draco shrugged, "Give it to a prefect."

"That's not my job! And you know the rules, you have to get coverage a day in advance, so you need to grab your citation pad and go before I -"

"Before you what, Granger?" He raised an eyebrow and started down the spiral staircase and into the common room, "Tell on me?"

Ron finally rose from the couch, not feeling comfortable with the way Draco had been talking to Hermione, "Grow up, Malfoy. She covers for you all the time."

Draco scoffed and slumped himself into the forest-green armchair by the fireplace, "You have your boyfriend fighting your battles now? I'd sod off, Weasley, let her grow up and fend for herself."

"You slimy git," Ron growled through his teeth, moving towards the chair where the blonde was sprawled out, "The day they send you to Azkaban, we will all be better off."

"Ron! Stop!" Hermione grabbed his hand, shaking her head.

Draco remained quiet, taking in what was said. The thought of Azkaban was in the back of his mind all of the time. He had constant nightmares of the dementors kiss and what it would feel like to have your soul sucked out from within you. There was nothing to say, and instead of doing what was expected of the Slytherin Prince, he remained seated and quiet.

The head girl led her boyfriend out of the common room and into the hallway outside where students were now gathering as dinner approached.

"You can't let him get away with that, Hermione! What does Dumbledore do about this?" Ron was fuming, his face becoming more and more red.

"Look, we'll have to talk about this later, okay?" Hermione was in her head and could not possibly explain what Dumbledore had asked of her, especially now when his temper was flaring. She gave him a quick kiss and squeezed his hand.

"I love you and thank you for spending the afternoon with me, but I have to take care of some things before dinner. I'll see you at quidditch practice, okay?"

Ron nodded, "Just let me know if you need anything."

"Does he know you've been instructed to sympathize with me? To be my advocate?"

Hermione slowly made her way down the stairs, her finger tracing the marbled banister, as she entered the common room to find Draco still slumped in the chair looking at the fire.

"No."

"Of course not. You'd rather not rock the boat right now anyway, right? Especially with all the rumors about him leaving you for Romilda Vane."

He was still full of malice. Hermione bit her lip, obviously affected by his accusation. She had heard the rumors but pushed them out of her head, knowing Ron was loyal to her. Right now she felt that she was the un-loyal one, hiding the truth rather than confiding in the one she loved. All of the Weasleys were honest people, but Ron in particular had a hard time hiding anything from anyone – especially her.

Ronald Weasley's polar opposite was staring back at her, his eyes cloudy. There was still a voice buried somewhere inside of her urging to back out of the deal she made with Dumbledore. After all, would Draco have done the same for her? She knew the answer.

"You make it so hard for anyone to help you."

Draco looked away at her comment. Hermione took a seat in her chair across from him and crossed her legs, placing her head idly on her hand waiting for him to refute her statement, but he didn't. Draco was in his own head, thoughts swarming in and out. He had not spoken with his mother for months, and in the state she was in, speaking to her would have been like being with a stranger. St. Mungos had only destroyed what was left of her, and the once noble, confident woman Draco knew was a shell of what she had been. And as for his father, there was good chance he would be reunited with him in Azkaban with the way the Ministry was taking a stance against him.

His parents had made him a pawn in Lord Voldemort's plan of destruction. They did it without thought, as a sense of duty instead of wanting to protect their one and only son. So when someone like Hermione Granger, who was good to her core and with everything to lose, wanted to help him without hesitation it made him weary. After all, his own parents wanted something out of him, so why wouldn't she?

Slowly he turned to face her, "Do you love him?"

The reasoning of his questions was even a mystery to him. It put Hermione off, and made her uncomfortable. Shifting in her chair, she glanced down at her watch to check the time.

"It's almost dinnertime, we better grab our cloaks and head down the – "

"I asked you a question," He interrupted.

Feeling a lump in her throat, Hermione nodded, "Of course I do. And quite frankly, that is not any of your business."

"I know," he ran a hand through his hair casually, settling in the chair even further, "But since we are going to have to get to know one another on a more personal level, I thought I'd start off with the most personal thing to you – especially since I walked in on you two today. If I had come five minutes later, who knows what I could have seen…"

"Stop being disgusting. He's my boyfriend, and it was in the middle of the day. Unlike you and your constant stream of girls in and out of here at all hours of the night."

A smirked etched itself onto his face, "Sounds like you're a tad jealous."

"Jealous? Why would I be jealous? Besides, it's against the rules, and disrespectful." Getting worked up, Hermione stood and crossed to the couch where her leather satchel was sitting.

Draco watched her intently, loving when she got flustered the way she did. He quietly rose from the chair and grabbed her cloak from the coat rack. Shuffling over to where she was rummaging through her bag, he slipped it around her shoulders and reached over to clasp it around her neck. Hermione felt the hairs on her arms standing up, and his scent of musk and cedar danced around her nose.

He touched his lips gently to her ear. She felt them shift into a smile, "You're jealous because of the same reason you told Dumbledore you would help me."

She didn't move away from him. His breath against her skin made her heart lose its rhythm inside her chest.

"It's the same reason you do my homework in the morning, and neglect to tell Dumbledore of what a horrible head boy I am…"

Refusing to give into another one of his mind games, Hermione quickly turned, now nose to nose with Draco, "Stop. Stop doing whatever you're doing. We're going to be late for dinner."

Without thought and without warning, Draco pressed his lips to hers. They were salty tasting, and he was determined to believe that was a remnant of Weasley's mouth. The thought didn't disgust him too much since he was not the one to push away.

Eyes wide open, Hermione forcefully pushed him aside. Her face burned a bright scarlet than we he caught her earlier. He reached out to move a curl away from her eyes, but was quickly slapped away by a still speechless Hermione.

"How – dare – you," She huffed, grabbing her bags, "Testify for yourself! I don't care what happens to you, honestly. I'm not going to waste anymore time trying to help you, and it seems quite insane that I put effort in the first place! Maybe they should lock me up with your mother in St. Mungos!"

He watched as she stormed out of the room and up the stairs; her voice carrying down the hall. Never before had he heard her say anything hurtful like that to someone else, and while it struck a nerve, he did not feel guilty in the least. There was no reason for the action, nor did he really enjoy it, but a piece of him wanted to feel her – to understand him. Hermione felt like more of a mystery than he was most of the time, and while he knew only what he saw of her, Draco felt the need to get inside her head.

And he did…

Hermione stood outside of the quarters staring out into the empty hallway. She could hear the murmurs from the Great Hall carrying down the hallway, but right now she felt eerily alone. There was no way she could talk to Ron about what happened, because she knew what the outcome would be. Harry was always in his own world, and with the given circumstances, she knew he was not an option either. Ginny would feel the need to tell Ron - so here she was, back to square one.

She touched a finger gently to her lips, just to see if they felt any differently than they did before.

Tomorrow she'd go to Dumbledore. The deal was off.

Author's Notes: Would love your feedback! Hope you enjoyed! And for anyone wondering, the password to their common room means "Between hope and fear."