X. Hog's Head Pub

The next morning, Hermione awoke to the sound of her door being closed. She figured it was Ron returning to his room. She was very surprised, however, to hear Draco's door open and shut across the hall. Confused, she quickly ran to her door and opened it quietly, peeking down the hall, expecting to see Ron's retreating back going up the stairs.

No one was there. She stared at Draco's door for a minute longer and could have sworn she heard movement behind it in the quiet house. It couldn't have been Draco. It was Ron—of course it was Ron. Shaking off the thought, she returned to her bed and fell back asleep for a few more hours.

Hermione awoke again to a not so friendly knock on her door. As she sat up in bed and stretched, an angry-looking Ron opened her door, not bothering to check if she was decent.

"Would you mind explaining to me what you were doing sitting with Malfoy in the middle of the night?" he asked haughtily. She was momentarily stunned. Why would Ron leave her room early in the morning only to stomp back in and accuse her of things?

"Talking," she answered, throwing a robe on over her nightgown. "What did it look like?"

He scoffed as if she'd offended him terribly. "There's nothing that you and that ferret need to be talking about."

She glowered at him, hating how he always assumed he knew everything when it involved Hermione. "Ron," she started, trying to be sensible, "we're not in school anymore. Things have changed. Just be adult about this."

"Hermione, he's a selfish prat! Have you forgotten all the horrible things he's done to us? The things he's said to you!"

"I don't want to fight. People can change, Ron," she reasoned, hardly believing that she was defending Malfoy. "And selfish? He's risking his life giving you and Harry information about his family."

"There's only one reason he would be talking to you," Ron said, changing his argument.

"And what would that be?"

He gave her a suggestive once-over.

Her eyes betrayed her and filled with tears. "You think that the only reason someone would want to talk to me is for sex?"

Ron crossed his arms. "You can't trust him, Hermione." He paused. "Aw, look, I'm not trying to upset you." His voice softened and he held his arms to her as he tried to walk closer.

"Hermione," Draco's voice interrupted. "Remus is looking for you." He was leaning against the doorframe, giving no indication as to how long he'd been standing there. Hermione furiously swiped at her eyes while Ron glared daggers at him. She took that opportunity to flee the room and down the stairs.

Molly was in the kitchen, preparing eggs for breakfast.

"Where's Remus?" Hermione asked.

"He's not here, dear. He's not due to come back 'til tomorrow," she answered, enchanting a scrub brush to wash dishes while she observed the eggs cooking in the pan.

Draco had lied…Or provided you with an excuse to leave the room, she thought.

When she confronted him to thank him later that afternoon as he was scanning The Daily Prophet, he claimed to have no idea what she was talking about.

"Yes, you do," she countered. "Earlier…Remus."

"Honestly, Granger, I have not the slightest clue as to what you're referring."

She smirked and left him alone.

When Hermione walked into the study that night, she was surprised to find Draco fully dressed with his coat and emerald green scarf.

"Where are you going?" she asked him, clutching her robe tighter.

He smirked. "I'm tired of Grimmauld's cheap liquor. We're going out for drinks," he decided.

"I see…"

Twenty minutes later, they entered Hog's Head Pub, Hermione eager to be out of the freezing cold. Draco looked at her and frowned, absentmindedly brushing snow off of her shoulders, and then removing his hand just as quickly, as if realizing what he was doing. She had felt the warmth of his hand instantly, even through her coat.

They sat down and ordered their drinks.

"Feeling any better?" he asked her as their drinks were briskly delivered on a dirty looking tray. She squinted at him in the dim light.

"Come again?"

"You seemed upset last night. And the Weasel seemed to be relentless all morning."

"Oh. Everything's fine."

He raised an eyebrow. "Sure it is. I can see it in your eyes, Hermione." She was startled at his use of her first name. "Your relationship with Ron, it's…"

"Just don't, alright?" she held up her hand and stared at her untouched drink. Draco didn't seem to be having much of his, either. "He's just upset because of their lack of progress. He's not content to wait until Willowgrove."

"Well, he's going to have to be if he wants all this to be over with efficiently," Draco sneered, his eyes darkening. "That was always his problem: jumping into things headfirst without any planning whatsoever."

"I've been with him for so long," she started. "I'm scared I wouldn't find anyone else."

"Didn't you technically break up with him? The world doesn't end because you get a new boyfriend, Granger," he commented, looking rather turned off to the topic at hand.

"But I don't even have the opportunity to meet someone else! I'm reclusive and obsessive, two traits that don't exactly send men running in one's direction. I can't imagine finding anyone else," she said.

Draco looked up with an intense look in his eye and paused, contemplating his next words. "Hermione—"

Whatever else he was about to say was cut off abruptly as a spell was hurled in between them, their table flying backwards and their untouched drinks shattering on the pub floor. Hermione jumped back in shock, but Draco didn't even hesitate, grabbing her and shoving her to the floor. He swiftly reached into her robe and pulled out her wand, brandishing it instantly at their attacker.

"You disappear for years, son, and then I find you making nice with the Mudblood," a cold voice accused from the dark corner of the pub.

Draco reached up and wiped a trail of blood from the corner of his lip, a result of the breaking glass, but never took his eyes off of his father.

Hermione twisted in his grasp, desperate to watch the scene unfolding in front of her. Lucius' face was gaunt and haunted, nothing like the regal smugness she had grown to expect from him.

"Well, we all get desperate once in a while," Draco said slowly. Hermione figured he was trying to lessen his father's suspicion. "Even you've picked up random bar trash before." Ouch.

Lucius smirked without amusement. "Yes…I suppose. It seems you've finally managed to do something right. Now hand her over, boy."

"Excuse me!" Hermione cut in indignantly. "I am not just some object that can be 'handed over'!"

"You keep your mouth shut, Mudblood! Draco," he said impatiently.

"This isn't the time," Draco informed him. "You'll get caught."

Lucius' upper lip curled in disgust. "I have asked you to do something, and you will respect me." When Draco didn't move, he continued. "Well, I was hoping to refrain from killing you instantly, but it seems I haven't a choice. Perhaps I could remind you about obedience the way the Dark Lord did." His sneer twisted into a nasty grin.

Hermione felt Draco tense above her. Luckily, it appeared that Draco was accustomed to his father's fighting habits, as the second Lucius' wand arm tensed, Draco kicked a nearby chair roughly at his father and simultaneously shoved Hermione to the opposite wall of the pub.

"Insolent—" was all Hermione heard before curses—and countercurses—were being launched back and forth. Stray glasses and wood pieces from the tables and chairs were being thrown about in all the chaos. She tried to shield herself behind a table, but it did little good. The few occupants in the pub were scattering like bugs, heading frantically for the door and trying to stay out of the line of fire.

"I would have thought you'd called your friends by now," Draco sneered, expertly dodging Lucius' attacks with Hermione's wand.

"Backup? To take a disobedient son and a weak Mudblood? I think not."

Draco looked off to his left every so often to locate Hermione before engaging in battle once more.

Hermione continued to crouch behind everything she could, wishing that Draco hadn't taken her wand so she could participate as well. Two against one were better odds for them. Draco dropped roughly to the ground beside her, having temporarily stunned his father.

"You're alright?"

She nodded quickly, once. His eyes lit up as he looked over her shoulder and shouted "No!" Pushing Hermione back once more from Lucius, who had tried to sneak up behind her.

Hermione sat up quickly and saw that Lucius had lifted Draco up by the collar of his robe, looking livid. Scrambling to Draco's feet, she picked up her discarded wand in an instant and screamed a stunning spell at Lucius, knocking him back into shelves of mugs.

Draco gripped her arm and pulled her out the door, the sudden shock of winter cold making her gasp. They Apparated to Grimmauld before Lucius could recover himself, and the second they landed in the front room, an eruption of noise greeted them.

"There they are!" she heard Ron scream anxiously.

Ignoring this, Draco turned to Hermione. "Are you hurt?"

Before she could answer, Remus ripped Draco away from Hermione, restraining him.

"I'll kill you, Malfoy!" Ron exclaimed, barging into the entrance room.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Ginny asked nervously. George, Harry, and Mrs. Weasley followed close behind, everyone shouting at once.

"Look at you, you're covered in filth! And those cuts!"

"The clock in the Burrow said 'Mortal Peril'," Ron explained quickly. And when we all came over here to find Malfoy gone too…" He stopped and shot Malfoy a look of death.

"What happened?" Remus bellowed.

"My father…at the Hog's Head," Draco managed to get out.

"YOU tried to KILL my fiancée!" Ron yelled angrily.

"Everyone calm down!" Hermione cried, trying not to flinch at his blatant assumption of 'fiancée'. "Can't you see he's hurt?"

"Hermione?" Harry asked, confusion written on his face.

"He didn't try to kill me! You're all completely overreacting. Can you just let him go so he can be healed?" she exclaimed, thoroughly exasperated.

Molly shushed everyone and ushered them into the dining room, pointing her wand at the chandelier above to shed some light. Draco was shoved roughly into a chair, the farthest away from Hermione.

"We were having some drinks at the Hog's Head—" That's as far as Hermione got before Ron protested loudly.

"Drinks? With him?"

"Oh, shut it Weasley! Let her finish!" Draco proclaimed, earning some more warning looks.

"Yes, Ron. We were talking."

"Lucius showed up out of nowhere," Draco quipped, wiping away another trickle of blood from his bruised face. "Tried to take us both. We had to stun him."

"We?" George echoed. "You don't have a wand, mate."

"I…lent him mine," Hermione said.

"Hermione!" Molly chastised.

"You know he's not to have a wand," Harry finished.

"Well, he fended Lucius off, didn't he?" Hermione countered.

Ron scoffed. "More like put on an act. Are you daft? It was all just a setup to gain your trust!" he declared, sounding so sure of himself.

"Why gain my trust when he could have killed me right then and there?" she asked, determined to prove them wrong. It had never occurred to her in the Hog's Head that Draco could have been in on the whole thing.

"Because he's using you to get to Harry!"

"It does seem rather suspicious, dear," Molly claimed.

"You all are insufferable! He saved us both and you're just pointing fingers. I think he should get his wand back. If I hadn't had mine on me, then we'd both be dead," she commented, crossing her arms.

"No way," Ron said.

"Not everything's up to you, Ronald. I'm telling you all, Lucius tried to kill us. It wasn't an act. He would not have hesitated to go through with it, but Draco stunned him."

"You stunned him," Draco cut in. "We were able to Apparate away."

"Well aren't you chivalrous, placing some of the credit with her."

"Everybody just quiet down!" Remus said finally. He had been sitting down, chin leaning on his hand, observing everything that was being said. He looked from Hermione to Draco. "Malfoy gets his wand back. Hermione will refrain from visiting Hog's Head pub or any other for a while, and we will all just lay low until this all boils
over. Draco, is there any chance that your father can track where you went?"

He shook his head. "No. And our cover isn't blown. He doesn't think I'm playing the part of a mole. He didn't see us Apparate together. Lucius will stick to his plan since he doesn't see me as a threat," he finished, wiping at his face some more.

Ron had crossed his arms indignantly at the mention of Draco getting his wand back. "He's just going to use it against us. You just wait, we'll all be murdered in our beds tonight."

"Hush up, Ronniekins," George finally said. He stretched his arms over his head. "If no one's hurt, then…I think I've had enough drama for one night."

Draco hurled an expensive looking vase violently in a corner of his room, raking a hand through his disheveled hair. Sighing, he pointed his wand lazily at it and muttered a spell to repair it. What were you thinking, bringing her to the Hog's Head? Carelessness, that's what it was. It had to have been the daftest idea he'd had since he came here. He knew his father occupied it enough. There was no excuse for putting Granger in direct peril, and he didn't blame Weasley for wanting to wring his neck. No doubt he would have wrung Weasley's neck if he had pulled a stunt like that. How could I be so stupid? They were just lucky he had grabbed her wand so quickly.

He hadn't been lying when he told them that his father knew nothing about his traitorous endeavors. If he had really suspected Draco of helping Wonderboy and Weasel, he would have definitely brought his Death Eater companions. They were still in the clear…for now. After reaching the safety of Grimmauld, Draco had nearly launched himself at Weasley for presenting the idea that he had set the whole thing up in front of Hermione. He didn't think he could bear it if she thought he had betrayed her. Granger put up with enough shit from everybody else; she didn't need any from him.

That night, Draco could hear Hermione thrashing and turning restlessly in the silent house. He resisted the urge to go to her again. It was better that he didn't risk it. It had been a stupid move the last time he had moved across the hall to her room, looking for a way to calm her. He wasn't going to get caught in a sticky situation if Ron decided to wander downstairs.

Draco didn't come out of his room all the next day. He took to pacing back and forth, counting the cracks in the ceiling, memorizing every detail in his room.

When he heard a knock on his door, he turned his attention to the clock, surprised to find that it was late evening.

"Enter."

It was Hermione, looking rather sheepish as she moved into the room.

"You haven't been out of your room all day," she commented.

"Yes, well, I thought it might be for the best."

"Dinner's ready downstairs. You must be hungry."

He turned away from her, shrugging his shoulders. He had no business continuing to talk to her. She was a mere step away from being a married woman. That particular tidbit might not have mattered to him in the old days, but things were different now. All it would take would be for Weasel to spout off some sweet words for Hermione to fall head over heels for him again, and voila, she would marry him in an instant. The irony of it was that Weasel probably didn't even know how close he was to obtaining the exclusive Hermione Granger, forbidden object of affection for an abundance of Hogwarts boys (not that she had ever noticed it).

"Draco."

Her quiet voice pulled him out of his pity party. Turning back to her, watching her face, he couldn't say no to her. He realized with a sinking feeling that he would probably never be able to say no to her. Draco nodded and followed her down the stairs to the dining room.

Dinner was a rather gloomy affair. Despite the lighthearted conversation being carried on between George, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione, Draco was still receiving childish cold looks from Weasley, which he chose to ignore. You don't know how good you could have it, he thought silently.

"Lighten up, Ron," Harry said, taking a bite of potatoes. Teddy gurgled from his high chair, further emphasizing this.

"How can I? Hermione was almost killed yesterday," he said, causing everyone to look up at him. So much for decent dinner conversation.

"But she wasn't," Harry reasoned.

"Everything's been taken care of," Hermione pitched in.

"There wouldn't have been anything to take care of if you hadn't been out with him." Ron apparently couldn't bring himself to mention Draco's name.

"It's not like we're married or anything," Hermione said quietly to her plate. Ron paled. Draco figured that it was probably good that Molly and Remus had stepped out of the room for a moment.

"You're right. We're not," Weasley finally said. "Thought it's probably to your disadvantage that you don't have me to look after you. After all, you don't seem to handle yourself very well in perilous situations. Like when Bellatrix had rendered you completely helpless with her Cruciatus curse. Or had you forgotten?"

Draco felt his jaw tighten. Hermione looked like she had been slapped in the face. That was it. Any hint of self-confidence she might have mustered up to stand up to Ron dissipated. Draco hated that look she got in her eyes, like she wasn't ever going to amount to anything. It was all due to that good-for-nothing bastard. He didn't like being told off by her, so he pulled out the one card that he continued to play to get her back in her place. He had to bring it up in front of everybody else, too. What good was humiliating her if others weren't there to see it?

Weasel deserved to die a thousand deaths for constantly tearing Hermione down. It was his fault she thought so little of herself. Draco gripped his napkin and his vision turned red. He was going to kill him.

No one else at the table said a word, just looked at Hermione to gauge her reaction. Hermione dabbed her mouth with a napkin and excused herself. Draco could hear her quietly ascend the stairs and shut her door with eerie calmness. Ron got up from the table as well, retreating to the drawing room. Everyone else muttered and rose to congregate in the kitchen, giving the two some time to themselves.

Draco, unable to contain himself, got up from his chair and strode purposefully into the drawing room.

"Sod off, Malfoy—" was about as far as Ron got before getting punched painfully in the jaw and sent stumbling back to the wall, where Draco pinned him.

"You pathetic excuse for a man," Draco spat. "You're the only bloody person she looks to in this house, and you use that to your every advantage to 'keep her in her place.' She deserves better than that, and she deserves better than you. Keep your defamations to yourself, Weasley. Understood?"

Weasley, whose face had turned an interesting shade of red, nodded almost imperceptibly. In an effort to save face as Malfoy released him roughly, Weasley puffed out his shoulders and shoved past him out of the room.

Once he was gone, Draco let out a breath and leaned both hands against the mantel. An obscene grinning snowman stared down at him from the mantel. He scowled and turned away. Fuck, he hated the holidays.