A/N

Horray, another chapter! I considered not updating until I got reviews, but I got enough favorites and watches to convince me to upload this anyway. I'm totally serious about the reviews, though, people. It's silly that I am on 23 peoples favorites list, but I only have 21 comments. Isn't that silly? I thought so.

So enjoy your chapter! I have to work the next two nights and then, of course, it's Christmas. So no promises for when the next chapter will show up. But reviews will always make authors write faster ;)

Chapter Seven

Hermione's days fell in to a pattern - as her days at school usually did. It was surprisingly easy to organize Draco into her schedule; he was alarmingly willing to put up with her incessant organizing and planning, and only gave her a little bit of a hard time. He was usually no more than five or ten minutes late meeting her places, and most always remembered to bring what she had asked him to bring. They were getting along swimmingly and Hermione was quite pleased.

Hermione had reached Draco's level of Occlumency in no more than two weeks, and they were now avidly researching and attempting even further levels, using their heightened powers to their advantage. The potion was set to be finished the night that Christmas break began - tonight - and Draco and Hermione had used every spare hour of the past month wisely. Draco brought books full of spells with a darker tinge, and Hermione located powerful spell books full of pure, white magic. They were slowly able to master more and more difficult spells, working together through long, frustrating hours of the night.

Hermione used the excuse of a sort of special project for one of her classes - one which the boys and Ginny were not in. She knew enough about a large amount of topics to make hours of research sound entirely valid, and made the topic sound boring enough that no one asked another question about it. She had no idea, though, what excuse Draco was using with his friends - or whatever he called the people that he ate lunch with and sat beside in class.

They had learned the ability to spell themselves invisible, so Draco had taken to following her back to her room. She had been shocked the first time that he had let her leave the room without asking her to stay, and had been even more shocked when he suddenly appeared in her bedroom. She eventually accepted, though, that he was not going to give in.

She didn't particularly mind waking up to a shirtless Draco Malfoy every morning. It was odd how she had immediately acclimated herself to the possessive way that he held her as he slept, and the few nights that he had spent elsewhere, she found that she distinctly missed his presence - and was informed the next night that he found himself missing her as well.

It was such a strange twisting of emotions. Neither hated the other, but they did not particularly like each other, either. He was an insufferable git most times, and she was constantly a goody-two-shoes, perfectionist mudblood. It was not so much a friendship or any kind of normal relationship between two human beings, then, but more like an unspoken agreement that they fulfilled each others needs in the most unexpected, but perfect, way.

This particular morning, Hermione found that she was incredibly cold. She curled into a ball, surprised that she never came into contact with Draco, and rolling over to figure out why. She found him sitting against the wall, a piece of parchment in his hand.

"Malfoy?" she said, slipping off of the bed and padding over to him.

"They want us next weekend," he said, not looking at her as she slid down next to him, pressing her arm against his and watching him cautiously. "My father just sent me a letter. The Dark Lord wants me to bring you to him to prove that I've completed the first part of my mission."

"Ok," she said, calmly. "We were expecting this to happen soon, weren't we? You sound surprised."

"I forgot," he shook his head. "I guess I just got so caught up in all of the learning and training that I… I forgot why we were doing it. I can't take you to him."

"Of course you can," she assured him. She hesitated for a moment, but reached out to put her hand on top of is. "This is what we've been preparing for. This is exactly why we've been working so hard."

"I don't think I can go back there," he said. He had not looked this defeated and wounded since that first night in the hospital. Hermione disliked having to watch him this way. He was the stronger of the two of them by far, so why was he the one being frightened and she was the one being entirely calm?

"We have to," she said. "We're both ready. If your level of Occlumency was sufficient before, then surely we will be impenetrable now. Besides, this is just the first meeting and I don't feel it's the one that we should be concerned about."

"This is not what I was asked to do," Draco said. "He'll immediately suspect that something is wrong."

"And we'll be completely prepared to prove him wrong," she said. "I will completely convince him that I want nothing more than to join his side. I'll offer him some valuable - but not entirely important - information about Harry or the Order, perhaps get a Dark Mark, and then we will come back to Hogwarts."

"How could he believe it?" Draco asked.

"How could he not?" she countered. "We'll be flawless. And, besides, he will be unable to resist this kind of power. He clearly knows much about this spell, and he will immediately understand the implications of our markings," she motioned to the black lines looping down her bare leg, stopping just above her knee. "You cannot fake this kind of power, Malfoy, and we both know it. There is no way that he will refuse to have the most powerful wizard and witched Marked and on his side of the war. He may be suspicious of us, but he will not be daft."

"How can you be so confident?"

"Because everything is in our favor," she said. "We have the ability of Occlumency, as well as the ability to tap into the highest concentration of both light and dark magic. With our confidence, brains, abilities, and powers, there is no way that he can deny us."

Draco sat the letter down in front of him, dropping his head into his hands. She reached out to smooth down his light hair and he turned to face her again.

"I can't ask you to do this."

"You didn't," she assured him.

"I can't ask you to risk your life for this."

"I'm not doing it specifically for you," she reminded him. "Remember? We're going to be war heroes. And you should also remember that you're risking your life, too. If he kills me, you're dead as well."

"I think I really have gone mad," he whispered.

"We don't have to go through with this," she said, quietly. "I can't, and won't, go without you."

"I don't know if I can bring you there," he said. "I don't know if I can condemn anyone else to my fate."

"You're not condemned. That's the entire point of this. It will just be temporary. We'll entwine ourselves in his world as much as necessary while keeping ourselves entirely grounded into the world that we'd rather be in. That's why there are two of us, and that's why we're bound together."

"You're not in too deep yet, Granger. You have my permission to back out at any time."

"And you have my promise that I won't."

"Perhaps you've gone mad, as well," he suggested, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.

"It's nearly time for breakfast," she said, laying her head against his upper arm.

"Then I suppose I'll see you later?" he asked. "Today is Friday, and tonight is that silly dance, so we'll be meeting at midnight, correct?"

"Exactly," she nodded, pleased that he remembered. "I can't skip the dance tonight because Ron has agreed to take me. I won't stay any later than midnight, though."

"I'm sure they'll be pleased to have you around even that late," he said, smirking. "You've been spending an awful lot of time with your 'secret boyfriend' recently."

"Well, it is not my fault that he is so handsome and smart and such a devilish boy," she said, imitating his smirk rather accurately.

"You've gotten admirably good at that," he said, standing up and reaching out to help her do so. "You'll have to be careful not to do that around your darling Pothead and Weasels, or they'll figure out far more quickly that you're 'shagging' a Slytherin against their will."

She rolled her eyes, walking past him to her closet to pick out clothes for the day. "I'll see you at breakfast," she said. "And stop staring at my bum."

"It would be easier to stop if you would cover it up," he countered.

"It's nothing you haven't seen before," she shrugged.

"You sound quite promiscuous for such a virginal girl, Granger."

"Well, when one 'shags' Malfoys, one quickly becomes promiscuous." She smirked again, taking an armful of clothes and shutting herself in the bathroom, leaving him to let himself out.

She barely paid attention in her classes, writing notes to Harry or Ron through the ones that they joined her for. She found herself surprisingly relaxed throughout the day, realizing that everything that she had said to Draco this morning had not been made up. She did believe that they had an advantage and she did believe that they would be successful. She also believed that if they were both to make it through next weekend alive, that they would both need to take full advantage of the break from school and other students.

So instead of getting caught up in the fact that eight days from today she would be facing Lord Voldemort and his threatening panel of Death Eaters, she enjoyed her final day with her friends. She soaked in Ronald's jokes through every meal, and watched amused as Ginny and Harry shyly glanced at each other.

Harry had finally asked Ginny to the dance a few weeks ago, and Hermione heard of nothing but her raven haired friend whenever she and Ginny were alone. After their last class of the day, Ginny and Hermione retreated to Hermione's dorm room to get ready for the ball. Hermione found that she enjoyed the massive amount of gossip and girl talk that Ginny was pushing onto her as they worked with each others hair and makeup.

Ten minutes before the dance was supposed to start, Ginny helped zip Hermione's dress up and they checked their appearances one last time. The boys were waiting at the bottom of the stairs - Harry in a new set of dress robes, and Ron in a somewhat updated set - and they looked impressed.

Ron was an awkward dancer and stepped on her toes a few times, but she had a good time anyway. She danced once with Harry, and was asked to dance by three other housemates. It was relaxing to watch all of her classmates be so relaxed and jubilant. Sometimes it seemed that the impending war was all that anyone could think about. The dance, though, and the next few weeks away from school, proved enough of a distraction to take everyone's mind off of the more serious issues at hand.

As she hugged her three closest friends goodnight at the stairs to her common room, she found that she held on for a few more seconds than she normally would.

"We'll miss you," Harry told her.

"I'll miss you, too," she assured all of them. "A few of us had to stay, though. And you lot will have a good Christmas without me, anyway."

"It won't be the same," Ron said, sounding glum. "I had a good time tonight."

"I did, too, Ronald," she said, honestly.

She hugged Ginny last, whispering, "don't do anything that I wouldn't do while you're on break," before pulling away and winking at her redheaded friend.

"Same to you," Ginny responded, grinning widely. "I assume your secret boyfriend is staying here on break, as well?"

"Perhaps he is," Hermione answered, shrugging and smiling back. "Owl me every day," she said. They left her with promises to do just that, all saying goodnight and waving goodbye. The first trains home would leave in an hour. The students would all be able to sleep as they rode and arrive at the station in the morning, allowing them to use every day of their break from school to their advantage.

She walked up her stairs slowly, holding her dress and stepping carefully to avoid falling. She shut her door quietly behind herself and tossed her handbag onto her small couch, right next to the tall blonde boy who was seated there. He was wearing the finest dress robes she had ever seen, and his black shoes shone more than anyone else's had that night.

"I thought we'd watch a movie tonight," she said, turning her back to him and walking over to her closet. "I don't see the need to do anything but relax right now."

"It's your call, I suppose," he said.

She reached behind herself and easily unzipped her dark purple dress.

"It's a shame we couldn't dance together tonight," he said as she searched for a t-shirt, her dress slowly sliding off. "I think we deserved a dance and we're both still somewhat dressed up."

"Malfoys don't dance," she teased, turning to wink at him before stepping out of her dress and pulling a t-shirt over her head. "And I'm tired of this dress anyway."

"I can't complain about this attire, either," he said. "I'd dance with you either way."

"So do it," she shrugged. She picked her dress up off of the floor, turning her back on him again to hang it up. She was not surprised to feel his hand on her waist and turned around to look up at him.

"There's no music," he pointed out, taking her hand with his and holding it in a practiced ballroom position. His other hand moved to the middle of her back, fingers spread. He pulled her just a little bit, stepping backwards and then to the side and together.

"A waltz," she commented. "How classy."

He completed a few sets of three and even led her into a walk around turn, watching her smile widely.

"I've always loved proper dancing," she said, "but I'm terrible at it."

"You don't seem to be."

"Oh, I am," she said. "A few more seconds and you'll notice, which is why we should stop now."

He obliged, ceasing all movements. "Are you terrible at swaying?" he asked. She laughed lightly and shook her head. He let her hand go and put both arms around her, pulling her in closer. She moved her arms up around his neck and laid her head on his chest, letting him lead again as they swayed back and forth slowly. "This is my first slow dance," he admitted.

"You've been to hundreds of dances and balls, though, haven't you?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, "but I've never done this kind of dancing with a girl."

"It seems that somehow you've done a lot of unexpected things for the first time with me, Malfoy," she commented, looking up at him. "Watched your first movie, had your first sleepover with a girl, and now a slow dance? And you seemed to enjoy them all, too. Perhaps my girly nature is rubbing off on you."

"Hardly," he assured her. "But I would like to watch one of those movies again. It's been a while."

"Nearly a month," she agreed. She lowered her hands to his biceps and he let her pull away. "I'll set it up if you conjure some snacks and put on some pajamas. I'll met you on the bed in sixty seconds," she said, tapping his nose with her finger and turning away from him.

They laid on their stomachs, heads at the foot of the bed and feet at the head of the bed, with pillows tucked under their chins as they ate Draco's conjured popcorn and sipped orange juice - Hermione's favorite. Draco asked to watch "a scary movie" and Hermione had warily agreed. Fifteen minutes in to the movie she was already hiding her eyes.

"Ah, another weapon to use against you," he teased as she flinched during a jump scene. "Can't handle a bit of a scare, Granger?"

She glared at him through her fingers, sticking her tongue out. Towards the end of the movie, though, when the even scarier bits began to happen, she had completely flattened herself against his side, barely watching the movie, body tensed.

"Granger, it's just a movie," he said, sounding sincerely concerned.

"I know," she squeaked, hiding her eyes against his arm which she was clutching tightly.

"We didn't have to watch it, you know."

"I know."

"We could have watched another of those… chick flicks? Is that what you called them." She nodded briefly, keeping her head turned entirely away from the TV. He turned onto his side, facing her, and she did the same. "You're even desirable when you're frightened," he said, looking into her large brown eyes.

"Of course," she agreed, closing her eyes. "I can't watch anymore," she admitted. He grinned.

"So what else can we do that's relaxing?" he asked.

"We could just lay here and talk," she said. She reached for the controller to the TV she had conjured and turned the volume down.

"Talk about what?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, moving forward a little so that their knees touched. "Christmas is in four days."

"That it is."

"I have a present for you."

"And I have one for you."

"Oh," she said, surprised. Her eyes lit up with curiosity. "What is it?"

"I'm not going to tell you," he said, laughing. "You can have it on Christmas morning."

"Ok," she agreed. "I didn't even decorate a tree this year."

"We can, you know," he pointed out. "We could go find one tomorrow and bring it up to your room to decorate. If it's important to you."

"You want to decorate a tree with me?" she asked. "You do realize that I want to do it the muggle way, right?"

"Sure," he shrugged. "We can put our presents under it and pretend that Sandy Clause came."

"Santa," she corrected.

"Santa," he repeated. She nodded, and then yawned.

"It's so odd to not be going to the Burrow. I'm so used to being around so many different people all at once. It's overwhelming and it's frequently not the most pleasant environment, but it's normal for me."

"I never go home," he admitted. "I've always just stayed at school."

"Malfoy," she scolded. "Doesn't your family miss you?" He raised his eyebrows. "Well, ok. I would have missed you this year, though. If I had gone to the Burrow."

"This is going to be another first with Hermione Granger," he commented. "My first real Christmas."

"We should make cookies," she mused. "And we should go sledding."

"Don't get carried away," he warned. "I don't want to go into Christmas overload. Remember, it's my first time. Although there is a Christmas tradition that I've always been interested in."

"What's that?" she asked.

"Mistletoe," he smirked. "In fact, I think that there's some directly above our heads…"

"Wandlessly conjuring mistletoe so that I'll kiss you, Malfoy? That's very classy and completely unexpected." She rolled her eyes.

"I thought it was worth a shot," he shrugged. She grinned.

"I'll make you a deal, Malfoy."

"Oh, this should be good."

"I'll give in to your Christmas wish if you give into mine and go sledding with me tomorrow."

"Deal," he said, immediately. She laughed and scooted closer to him, straightening her legs out and placing her hand on his side to balance herself as she leaned in close to his face. He watched her eyes twinkle mischievously and was entirely surprised when she closed them and placed her lips onto his. She ran her tongue lightly along his lower lip as he moved his hand to the back of her neck and he could not hold back a gasp when she proceeded to bite his lip playfully.

"Too much?" she asked, lips still against his and clearly teasing.

"Never," he said, turning onto his back and rolling her on top of him. She let one leg fall on either side of him and giggled against his mouth. He was surprised when she didn't break the kiss but instead kissed him harder, one hand resting on his chest and the other curled around him, pulling him closer to her. He kept one hand on her neck and let the other rest on her lower back, just above the black, lace underwear that she was wearing, pulling her as well.

When she finally pulled away, a few minutes later, they were both breathing heavily. He opened his eyes and stared up at her, sure that his eyes were portraying the same mixture of emotions.

"You should stop being so good at that," he said, moving his hand to her jaw.

"You're the one that's good," she said, sitting up and beginning to take her hair down. He tried not to stare at anything but her face as she stretched her arms up and back to remove all of the pins and clips, but it was difficult to not try to catch glimpses of her skin when her t-shirt rode up.

"We could argue about this for hours," he said, "or we could both admit that we're good at kissing, and end this argument now."

"Fine," she nodded, reaching back and dropping her handful of hair things onto the table beside her bed and then shaking her curls loose. "But you're best."

"Because I've had practice," he said. "Your talent is all natural, remember?"

She laughed and rolled off of him, laying on her side again.

"We're at the wrong end of the bed for sleeping," she said, yawning.

"Sleeping is overrated."

"Sleeping is relaxing and wonderful," she disagreed, wiggling over to lay her head on his chest. "Besides, we've got a long day of Christmas things tomorrow and I'm suddenly very cold."

"Funny," he said, "I'm suddenly very warm."

"We make quite the pair," she said, moving suddenly towards the top of the bed and getting under the covers as best as she could with him laying on top of them. "If you're hot, I'm cold, and if I'm hot, you're cold."

"An unlikely duo," he agreed, following suit and getting under the blankets.

"Should I set an alarm for tomorrow?"

"Alarms are overrated."

"That's what I thought," she smiled. "Goodnight, Malfoy."

"Goodnight, Granger," he replied, laying on his side behind her, draping one arm over her hip and moving her closer to him. He laid awake for five or ten minutes, still reeling a bit from the kiss as he watched the lights from the TV screen on her cheekbones. She was breathing deeply a few seconds later and once he got his mind to stop racing, he soon followed her lead.