They started work the next night, tiptoeing around each other and mostly avoiding any and all contact for the first month, but when neither of them had tried to kill the other, the ice slowly began to thaw.

"Stop it," Draco said, not looking up from the charm work he was performing on the cabinet.

"I'm not doing anything," Hermione argued.

She was sitting on the floor a couple feet away, trying to decipher a series of runes they'd found on the bottom of the cabinet.

"You're watching me. It's creepy."

"I'm not watching you," she rolled her eyes. "I'm just thinking."

"Well, feel free to share with the rest of the class," he drawled.

"It's just weird," she shrugged. "I mean, we spend every night together and we're doing this huge thing, but we barely know anything about each other... it's just kind of crazy when you really think about it."

"Alright," Draco threw his hands up and dropped onto the floor beside her. "Have at it, Granger. What do you want to know?"

"What?" Hermione frowned at him, setting aside her rune dictionary.

"You're right. We barely know anything about each other, even though we spend all our free time together. So, whatever you want to know, have at it," he put his arms out, as if to make himself a target.

"What's your favourite colour?"

"Sorry?" he raised an eyebrow.

"You heard me. What's your favourite colour?" Hermione repeated.

"That's what you want to know?" he asked skeptically.

"You said anything," she shrugged.

Draco shook his head, a disbelieving smirk on his face. "I did say that," he agreed. "Blue. My favourite colour is blue."

"Like, Ravenclaw blue?"

"More like the blue in the Puddlemere United logo."

"Are they your favourite team?"

"Since I could walk," he nodded. "What about you? Favourite colour."

"Purple," Hermione answered readily. "Dark purple, like the colour royalty used to wear."

"How very aristocratic," Draco smirked. "I would ask your favourite Quidditch team, but I know you could care less about the game."

"That's not true! I've seen every game Harry's ever played in- and the ones that he's missed."

"It doesn't count if you bring a book," Draco scoffed.

"There is not a rule that says that," Hermione insisted. "And he's never complained."

"That's because he's rather dense."

"Hey," she raised an eyebrow in warning.

"I'm just stating a fact," he shrugged. "You and I both know that he wouldn't be able to find the toilets without you there to help him."

"You know, we were having a perfectly civil conversation," Hermione huffed.

"Okay, okay," Draco held his hands up in apology. "Um... what's your favourite food?"

"Pasta. It doesn't matter what kind, I'll eat it all. You?"

"Bread pudding."

They went on like that for almost a month, filling the silences with mundane questions about each other, learning about each others childhoods, likes and dislikes.

"If only it had been a wardrobe instead of a cabinet," Hermione sighed wistfully.

"Is there really a difference?" Draco asked in a bored tone.

"Of course there is. One would have fulfilled a childhood dream of mine, the other is just a boring old cupboard."

"Your childhood dream was to spend your every waking hour worrying about fixing a useless and, quite frankly, ugly antique?" he smirked.

"No, Malfoy," Hermione glared. "I wanted to find a magical wardrobe that would transport me to a far off land."

"You had a rather active imagination as a child, didn't you Granger?"

"Don't be a prick," she chided. "There was a muggle book series that I read when I was little about a magical wardrobe that transported a girl and her siblings to a far off magical land, and I always wanted to find a wardrobe like that."

"Well in that case," Draco got to his feet and gave her a deep bow, gesturing comically to the cabinet. "Your wish is granted. Use the next two wisely."

Hermione laughed despite herself, shaking her head at the absolute ridiculousness of the situation.

"Hang on, what do you mean 'two more wishes'?"

"Are you not familiar with the concept of a genie, Granger?"

"Oh, I'm perfectly familiar with the concept," she assured him. "I'm wondering how you are. Genies are muggle folklore, they don't have a wizarding equivalent."

"I'm aware of that," Draco assured her. "I'm not as sheltered as I appear, Granger. I've read my share of muggle novels."

He wasn't looking at her, but Draco could tell by the silence that she was completely shocked.

"Don't look so surprised," he drawled.

"You're not even looking at me!"

"That's how palpable the surprise is."

"Well, can you blame me?" she asked. "The great Draco Malfoy, pureblood of all purebloods, admitting that he's read classic muggle literature? It's a bit shocking."

"No more shocking than the great Hermione Granger helping a Deatheater."

"Don't call yourself that," she snapped, making it Draco's turn to look surprised. "And don't give me that look."

"You're not even looking at me," Draco echoed her earlier statement, though his voice held a hollow tone.

"I think we've spent enough time together in the last month that I know what your face looks like," Hermione rolled her eyes. "You may be a stuck up, annoying prick that I want to punch in the face on a regular basis, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let you call yourself that dreadful name."

"Why?" he scoffed. "It's true."

"It's not!" Hermione insisted.

"This would beg to differ," he sneered, ripping his sleeve open to bare the Dark Mark on his arm.

"Oh please," she sniffed "That's nothing more than some magically imbued ink. You're no more a Deatheater than I am."

She said it with such conviction, as though she had never even thought twice about whether or not it was true. And then she simply turned back to analyzing the cabinet, as if she hadn't just turned Draco's entire life on end.

"Are you going to stare at me for the rest of the night, or are you going to help?" she called over her shoulder after another minute of silence. "Because if I get this working without you, you'd better believe I'm going to take the credit- fuck the Dark Lord and his tasks."

Draco couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as he joined her- Hermione couldn't help but notice how much she liked seeing him smile.