A/N: Sorry, not sorry. This was one of things that needed some fleshing out in the last version. It was fucking weird last time, if I'm being honest.

Chapter 11:

Hermione made the trek down toward the stables, sniffling softly. At the sound of footfall in the grass behind her, she grabbed her wand and whipped around. "It's just me," Theo replied calmly, his hands up in surrender.

Hating the skittish quality her life had taken, her shoulders slumped as she lowered her wand. "Sorry. I'm always just so jumpy these days."

Theo fell into step beside her and smiled down at her with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "Merlin…I have no idea what you could've experienced in your life that would make you uneasy when alone."

Her laugh was genuine as she agreed. "I don't know if this feeling will ever go away."

Theo draped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her into a bumbling side hug as they walked. "You're a strong, intelligent, and capable witch. Everything is still so fresh, especially since coming back here with the reminders all around. But, Granger, you will persevere. It's what you lot do best."

With a wave of her wand, the barn doors opened. Armed with chocolate oat clusters, Hermione clicked her tongue and Artemis and Themis stepped into the sunlight. Theo ran a hand over Themis, who flinched at his touch but remained still. "They're learning. Slowly, but surely," Hermione told him proudly as Artemis sniffed around her pockets.

"Not that hellion," Theo commented, gesturing to where Hades was still standing stubbornly inside.

Hermione cast her eyes downward and cleared her throat. "Malfoy's been the only one he responds to obediently. Even Hagrid has trouble sometimes."

Theo scratched behind Themis' ear and she leaned her head into him, her feathers ruffling with delight. "He didn't mean it, you know."

A barb pierced Hermione's heart as she thought of the nasty way Malfoy's voice had sounded spitting the slur at her for the first time in years. "If you're going to defend him, save it."

The wizard ran a hand through his thick, wavy dark hair. "You don't understand what it meant for us to be brought up by our fathers. That word was tossed around like one might comment on the weather. It shook us, particularly Draco, when we came to the realization that our fathers were despicable human beings—murderers, rapists, thieves. I'm certain he didn't mean to say it."

"But he did say it and it rolled off his tongue a little too easily," Hermione reminded him, and her scar began to itch where it peeked from under her shirt sleeve.

"I'm not saying what he said was acceptable. Not by any stretch of the imagination would that ever be acceptable. But I do know that man like a brother, and he really is sorry he said it," Theo brushed her curls away from her face and gave her a mournful smile. "I told you before, none of us regard you as anything but the brilliant witch you are—we'd be stupid to."

Hermione hiccupped a laugh and Theo ran his thumbs over her cheeks. His bright blue eyes sparkled as he took in her features. "The men in your life have really been buffoons as of late."

"Ron never did anything," she murmured. "That was all me."

With a scoff and a half-smile, he responded, "I find that hard to believe." Dropping his hands, he turned away, leaving Hermione to blink after him as he entered the barn.

Letting go of Ron had been heart wrenching, and she had spent the last few weeks recovering from the wound left behind. Though her past haunted her each day, this was one chapter of her life that she was ready to end and suture shut.

Her body felt light as she followed Theo. A wave of his wand and the mess within was Vanished, the troughs reloaded, and the hay bedding fluffed. Hades' tail swished back and forth, his nose wrinkled in displeasure. Hermione watched as Theo inch-wormed his way a little closer to Hades with each completed task.

Is he the next chapter? Seeming to share her train of thought, his voice broke the companionable silence. "So, tell me, Granger, is there a particular gentleman you're hoping to escort you to the All Hallows' Eve Masquerade?"

Hermione groaned, and Hades huffed, stomping his front foot in consternation. Theo patted his side and the horse nibbled at his shirt, causing him to laugh heartily. The signs advertising a Halloween ball had been plastered all over the school, but she had no desire to attend—the thought of enjoying herself in a room where so many had perished didn't exactly appeal to her. "I'm not going."

Theo prodded Hades' side and the Abraxan stomped out of the barn to join his herd as the pair followed. Hermione sat on the fence that now ran along the Forbidden Forest by the barn and Theo came to rest next to her legs, leaning on his forearms. "Every girl loves a chance to get pretty and dance with handsome blokes."

Rolling her eyes and smoothing a hand over her jumper, Hermione asked, "Maybe vapid Slytherin girls. Do I seem like the 'dress up and get pretty' type, Nott?"

"You don't need potions and perfumes to be beautiful. You're absolutely stunning as you are," Theo confessed quietly, refusing to meet her eye as his cheeks pinkened.

Her heart began to race as she lifted her hand to turn his face toward her. When he finally met her gaze, there was a familiar pain behind his eyes. Daphne. Her name had been whispered in the common room on more than one occasion, and Theo's hollow, unnerved mask always settled itself on his face. These Slytherins were masterful at pretending to be unaffected. Or perhaps it was a trait necessary for the son of a Death Eater? Whatever the cause, he knew the heartache of having loved someone his entire life and of losing them to the War. Just because there's no body doesn't mean someone hasn't died.

The void in Hermione's heart longed to be filled, however briefly. His skin was smooth beneath her fingertips and warm from the sunshine and the blush that painted his cheeks. Standing upright, he brought his lips to hers in a soft caress. Theo, for all of his brawn and intimidation, was gentle with her as his hand came to brush the curls from her face.

Coming to stand between her knees, Theo leaned one hand on the fence beside her hip and wove the other under her hair to rest on the back of her neck. His touches were feather-light, uncertain as though he were trying to gather courage. He tasted faintly of tea and spice; cloves and nutmeg, sending a warmth through her chest. She held his jaw between her hands, tasting and discovering him for the first time.

A pair of piercing grey eyes flashed through her mind, and she fought to ignore the strange tug that ripped through her. She focused instead on Theo—he was here, and he was kissing her as though she were the only thing that mattered to him. His fractured pieces were working cohesively with hers to create a tentative mosaic, his lips fitting perfectly with hers.

He pulled back, enough to nuzzle his nose along hers and then let out a huff of a laugh. "How about you come to the ball with me? I'll make it worth your while," he implored, pulling back to give her his most dazzling smile.

Hermione ran her tongue over her bottom lip, looking at him fully. Theo really was handsome, in his own way. But those eyes—they're entirely the wrong color. She willed her mind to shut off. "All right, then," she acquiesced, grinning when his entire face lit up and he dipped his face to hers for a second kiss.

o-o-o

Jealousy seared through him like wildfire, every rational thought and every reasonable emotion were collateral damage along its path. Inexplicable and all-encompassing, Draco was nearly knocked from his broom with the severity of it. As he hovered high above the pitch, his eyes were trained on Theo and Granger at the stables, locked in a tentative kiss. Fuck, why does it hurt so bad?

Theo will have what you can only ever dream of. Draco did not want Granger—of course he didn't. The thought was preposterous. The pair had been enemies from a time before either knew what war felt like, smelled like, tasted like. She would never spare him a look that was not dripping with latent hatred or pity, would never show an ounce of interest in who he was now—so different than who he was before. Some wounds ran too deep, and he had inflicted countless.

With a painful recollection, he knew that he had fouled up any chance of ever working or speaking civilly to her, the moment that word left his lips. A battle was raging within him, one Draco didn't quite understand. Wanting to absolutely wallop Theodore Nott when the bastard went in for a second kiss, he tore his eyes away. Wishing to numb the sting in his heart, he covered the infernal organ with his hand and turned.

A flash of blonde caught his eye and he looked down to see Luna Lovegood mounting a broomstick. He would have preferred to be alone, particularly as his emotions and mood shifted ever darker with each passing moment. But there was something about Lovegood, something undeniably soothing and hard to reject, no matter how he longed to do so.

Draco turned downward and met her halfway, praying to whatever deity there was that she would not comment on his mood, his voyeurism, or the scene unfolding by the Abraxans' shelter. The airy little imp floated, waif-like, until she met him with a wide smile. "Hello, Draco."

"Lovegood," his voice was clipped, and he hoped she would take the hint and leave.

Her smile never wavered when she remarked, "You weren't at lunch."

"I haven't been hungry."

Her line of sight fell over his shoulder and she tilted her head. "Curious. Hermione and Theo appear to be kissing."

Draco's hands gripped the broom handle a little tighter. "Is that so?" he deadpanned, hoping he seemed unaffected.

No such luck. Fate was a cruel bitch. "And you don't appear to be too thrilled," her eyes focused on his and he got the chills, wondering if all of that bending nonsense she practiced allowed her to read minds. "I know what you said to her. And I suspect you did not mean it."

Her gaze widened, and she smiled, blasting past him at break-neck speed. Her wake rippled the air around him and he rocked in place. "What the fuck, Lovegood?"

Picking up his pace, Draco raced after her. "Blibbering humdingers!" her shrill excitement tore through the sky as she flew toward the trees of the Forbidden Forest.

They whizzed well over Theo and Granger's heads, Draco refusing to look down as the pair scanned the skies above. "Lovegood, where are—"

His question was cut short when Lovegood touched down atop a canopy of trees, blowing into a gadget around her neck that made a noise like a dying mermaid. Clapping his hands over his ears, Draco paused next to her and scanned the limbs for any sign of life. She leaned down and attempted to reach her hand out toward a tangled cluster of twigs and golden thread. With an exasperated sigh, Lovegood swung her leg over the side of her broom and Draco's hand shot out to catch her when she fell back.

A hearty laugh peeled through the air and she looked at him, upside down and dangling precariously from her broom. "Honestly, Draco. Have you never hunted humdingers?"

Staring at her with incredulity, his lips parted. The girl had been strange before the War—he vaguely remembered them calling her 'Loony Lovegood.' Hell, he had probably started the nickname, if he were honest. A flicker of delight in her eyes, a sparkle that had been dulled since their return to Hogwarts, made him stop his derisive comment before it spilled forth. Instead, Draco closed his mouth and shook his head slowly. "Not recently."

Lovegood rolled her eyes and flopped back away from him with a giggle. "You have to—" she wiggled dangerously on the broom as she reached her hand out.

"What?" he questioned, placing a hand on her broom to steady her, consumed with worry that she may fall as she sat upright.

"They were just here and then—oh!" Understanding reached her eyes as a frown spread across her face. "They can sense Dark Magic…even just a trace," Lovegood remarked, righting herself on the broom.

Embarrassment and shame flooded Draco. Born into Darkness, he knew he would never fully be Light. But to have someone as pure and innocent as Luna Lovegood confirm it by way of a non-existent creature's rapid departure, there was no way to deny it. "I'm sorry, Love—"

Lovegood placed her hand over his arm, right over where the Mark rested and shook her head. "No matter. They'll come back and now I know where their nest is."

Draco glanced skeptically at the ball of twigs and gulped, nodding his head. "I'm sure Longbottom could assist you in catching one of the little buggers."

"Neville is quite capable of handling his humdinger," Luna replied and, had the shame not radiated so violently through him, Draco would have laughed at the unintentional innuendo. "Why don't we head back to the pitch? I can bat away bludgers if you would like to get the Quaffles."

The thought of Luna Lovegood piddling around with Quidditch balls frightened Draco nearly as much as the thought of a Muggle playing, but she had a way about her that put him at ease. She staunchly refused to allow him to withdraw into himself for any length of time.

As they flew over Granger and Theodore, who were now gazing sickeningly into each other's faces and laughing idiotically, Draco made a harsh clicking with his tongue and sent a prodding spell at Hades' rear end. Thundering footsteps sounded across the ground and the sound of the Abraxan's wings spreading brought a tiny smile to Draco's face. Behind him, he could hear Theo and Granger's exasperated shouts as they called for the horse to return. Theo's, "Fuck you, mate!" played like a symphony to his ears.

o-o-o

Hermione refused to speak to Malfoy in the week that followed their spat. She knew in her heart that he hadn't meant to say that word to her, and she believed Theo when he said that he hadn't really bought into the Pureblood mentality in years. But the casual way it had slipped out of his mouth continued to irk her. She wished it wouldn't get under her skin so much, but she wanted more out of him. She had come to expect more from him in terms of his bigoted ways.

Completely opposite of his friend, Theo had been a surprising companion to her. Following their kiss by the barn, he had become the perfect pureblood suitor. It did not take long to realize exactly how lazy Ron's pursuit of a relationship had been. He had relied on their friendship to ease them into a courtship, never showing a real effort. Theo was the complete opposite—he was attentive, listened to her with rapt enthusiasm, assisted her when he could. He was sweet and kind, interesting and funny.

Still, Hermione had a hollow depth in her heart that his consideration couldn't quite fill.

This thought plagued her, a frown turning her lips downward, as she sat with Malfoy in their shared common room. He had spread their final project out over the long desk and they sat in silence as they worked. The confusion that flowed within her had her feeling particularly irritated.

As her mood soured, she longed for time alone. Particularly given that her partner had a penchant for irritating her. He grouped the ingredients in separate areas according to substance—insect, solvent, powder, herbs. Who did that? Why couldn't he just put them in sequential order of when they would be needed?

Hermione's petulance spread the longer she watched Malfoy work. She felt like a good row and she knew the blond wizard sitting crossly at her side wouldn't let her down—he always rose to the occasion. "I don't understand why I should trust you to make a potion unknown to wizarding kind—you organize the potions workbench like a first year."

Malfoy gave her a hateful stare as he dumped lacewing flies into the cauldron. "Granger, I know what I'm doing. I've told you already, I'm not your two idiotic friends."

"Don't you dare call them idiotic. They gave everything last year to defeat the likes of you!" It was a low blow, even she knew it.

His face screwed up in anger and he rose from the cauldron. "How can you fucking say that to me? I have put forth every effort this year to show the world that I am not my father."

"Yes, and calling me a Mudblood was a nice touch," she crossed her arms ruefully, lashing at him with an unnecessarily sharp tongue.

The anger faded a bit as hurt colored his features. "I apologized for that," he whispered forcefully.

"Yes. I'm sure you were terribly sorry," she spat back, her hair frizzing around her face as she grew more and more fiery. "Sorry that I heard you,"

"I am!" he shoved the chair into the table harshly, making it collide with a loud slam.

Hermione backed away from him then, never having seen him angry enough to slam or break things. Silently, she wondered if he would harm her and took another involuntary step back. Malfoy noticed her retreating and sulked, clearly upset that she would feel such a way. "Do you think I'm going to hurt you?"

She tried her best to slide on a mask of indifference, one not unlike that the blond routinely wore and leaned casually against the desk. Her heart was still beating wildly. "Of course not…You said yourself, you couldn't kill anyone."

"Why are you being like this?" he demanded, trying to steady his hands as they balled up at his sides.

"Me? You call me a Mudblood and now you can't take it when I hand your arse back to you?" she shrieked.

He put his hands up, glancing at their common room door. "Can you please quiet down? Everyone else doesn't need to know what we are arguing about."

Taking a step toward her, Malfoy dropped his hands limply to his sides, anguish stealing over him. Hermione crossed her arms across her chest and leaned against the desk behind her. "You want me to quiet down? Quiet down?What about the loud, vulgar sexcapades I can hear coming from your dorm every bloody night? You don't stay quiet!"

"A silencing charm goes both ways, Granger. If you could hear us, you should have cast it over the outside of the door. Or do you enjoy listening?" he challenged, the cruel lilt in his voice like a dagger to her self-assurance.

Averting her eyes, she retorted, "I don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy."

"Oh, I think you do, Granger," he walked closer to her, seething. "You think I haven't heard the floorboards creak outside of my door? The soft click of your door locking once I've finished?"

She had been caught. He knows. "Don't be disgusting," she hissed.

"Or perhaps," Malfoy put his hands on the table on either side of her hips and got his face close enough to Hermione's that she could smell the spearmint on his breath. "You wish you were the one pressed into my mattress, writhing beneath me in ecstasy? Calling my name?" his whisper was pure venom.

She shoved him away with both, feeling his pelvis brush against her own hips as she rose. "Don't be crass, Malfoy."

"It's not crass if it's true, Granger. You think I haven't seen you eye-fuck me from across the common room?" he smirked evilly as her cheeks reddened.

"You are such an incorrigible pig! I don't have to sit here and listen to this!" and with that she stormed away from the argument she'd began to lick her wounds.

o-o-o

Draco sprawled himself across one of the couches in the Wulfric common room, reading his Ancient Runes text. Theo sat with Granger at the desk in front of the window and the two were whispering so softly, Draco had a hard time eavesdropping. Granger let out a feminine giggle and he felt his heart clench painfully. He wanted to be the one to make her laugh; he should be the one to make her laugh. You have no right to even think such a thing, you cowardly prick. And when had he started thinking of Granger in such a manner?

"I'll pick you up from your room at eight, then?" he heard Theo say as the dark-haired wizard rose from the desk, grabbing his bag and robes.

Granger nodded and let out a quiet, "I can't wait!"

Catching Draco's eye, Theo winked and grinned broadly as he turned to go into his own room. Draco watched as Granger stared after Theo, a ridiculous smile playing on her lips. His heart tugged unpleasantly. She was looking forward to going wherever it was they were going. She's looking forward to a date with Nott. The thought made Draco's stomach turn harshly.

For a week, he had watched the couple interact with a grotesque affection. It was becoming far too much for him to handle any longer. Draco shoved off of the couch and let himself into Nott's room without a knock. "Sure, Malfoy, you can barge in at any time, I don't mind," Theo drawled, not bothering to turn from where he sat on the bed.

Draco raised his wand and cast a silencing charm over the room before he pressed the tip firmly into Nott's neck. "What the fuck are you doing? Gallivanting about with Granger?" he said through clenched teeth.

Theo raised his chin defiantly, refusing to be intimidated. "What the fuck concern is it of yours?"

Draco wrinkled his brow. "What about Daphne?"

Theo scoffed. "What about Daphne? She left me," he reminded his friend, the emptiness returning to his eyes at the statement. "Hermione is beautiful and intelligent and deserves someone to show her that she is worth it. I want to know her better, because she is a bird worth knowing."

Draco clenched his jaw tightly. "And when Daphne finally comes to her senses?"

Theo pushed Draco's wand away from his throat finally. "Hermione is just as fucked up as the rest of us and she needs someone to talk to. Everyone else has someone—even you have Astoria. But she's alone. And I'm…alone. Being with her makes me feel good—I can't live my life waiting for Daphne to realize that we belong together!"

Stepping back from Theo, Draco pursed his lips and tried to deny the horrid seizing of his heart. Theo is going to court Granger. A union forged between two people on the rebound. With a great effort, Draco reminded himself once more that he had no claim to the witch. Turning on his heel, he grabbed a glass mug from the desk. It smashed against the wall and Draco let out a frustrated yell before wrenching the door open and storming out. The door slammed with such a force, the paintings on the wall in the common room shook.

Granger peered up at him from the desk where she was still working on her Arithmancy homework. He was unable to hide the hurt and agitation he felt as he thundered into their common room. Leaning on the back of the couch for support, Draco nursed the crushing, throbbing feeling in his heart. He was being completely irrational. Granger wanted nothing to do with his arrogant, bigoted narcissism.

You could have told her, could have treated her like a human being. Growing up in the Malfoy household, the son of a cold-hearted Dark wizard hadn't been conducive to communication. Pansy had learned to pry information from him without completely turning him away. Theo was the only person he truly felt comfortable speaking with now that Pansy was dead, and he couldn't very well go in there and lay his heart out for Theo to hear. I want to court your witch.

The door opened behind Draco and Granger's small, unsure footsteps padded across the floor. She cleared her throat expectantly and he was forced to turn and look at her. "Are you…okay?" Granger inquired, concern evident on her face.

Draco stared at her for a long moment, scenes of him on his knees begging her not to go with Nott playing out dramatically in his mind. Pride was an egregious thing. He shrugged stiffly, refusing to showcase his bluff. "I'm fine."

Granger didn't look convinced but asked nothing more of his sullen mood—she was growing accustomed to his shit-head attitude. Draco pushed past her and went into their kitchenette, retrieving a pint of chocolate ice cream. Sweets always helped to calm him. Granger, clearly not one to pick up on social cues, followed and sat at the table as he made himself a small bowl of the creamy dessert. Draco knew he needed to change his demeanor if he ever wanted her to see him as anything more than an angsty bastard.

Glancing over his shoulder, their eyes met briefly and he his knees went weak as she brought her lip between her teeth. He turned around and stared at the ice cream. "Would you like some?"

"Oh—sure," she seemed surprised by his subtly kind gesture. She's surprised that you'd offer her a treat. Pathetic.

As he scooped the rest of the ice cream into a second bowl, the wizard thought about what he could possibly say to make up for his atrocious behavior the last couple of weeks. He had called her a filthy slur, accused her of being a pervert (though Draco knew he was right about her listening in more than once), and insinuated that she'd rather he fuck her than Astoria. All while yelling and being a massive arsehole. Splendid.

Draco sighed and turned around to face her once more, sliding into the chair opposite her and setting her dish in front of her. He took a bite and relished the smooth taste as he mulled over an apology in his mind. What can I say to her that doesn't sound empty? He was pitiful when it came to apologizing, never having felt it necessary or appropriate to apologize in the past. He had donated some of his own inheritance as a form of silent apology when his sentence had been reduced and he had thanked Potter for testifying on his behalf. But saying outright that he was sorry for his actions? Draco couldn't remember a time when he had ever said those words to anyone in his life.

His eyes flickered up from the table, a frown etched across his face, and found Granger watching him as a gazelle might watch a lion. His heart beat so rapidly in its cage, he silently wondered if she could hear its thumps from where she sat. Willing himself not to look back down at the table and instead to stare straight into her eyes, he managed to stutter, "Granger…I just—I just want to apologize. For everything."

Draco hoped that the earnest remorse that colored his tone would be good enough for her. Surely, Granger had to know how difficult it was for him to admit he was wrong—he had steadfastly refused to give her the satisfaction in the past. Her eyes searched his face for a long while, seeking reassurance. He was nearly vibrating with the effort to hold her fiery gaze. Slowly, a smile spread across her face and she nodded. "Thank you. For apologizing and not trying to lay blame on your past this time."

Draco frowned at her remark, a spoonful of ice cream halfway to his mouth. "You have to understand that my past has shaped me and it's forcing me to change who I am…I'm not that twelve-year-old little boy anymore, Granger. I've seen too much, done too much to go back."

Her returning smile was warm as she reached across the table to touch his arm. "I know, Malfoy. I know…Theo's been trying to make me understand. But you have to understand that I'm not the twelve-year-old bucktoothed, bookworm I was either. I fought a war to defeat people you once associated with, however reluctantly. For the last seven years, I hated you. Or, at least, who I thought you were."

"No. You hated me. I was the person you thought I was—cold, callous, bigoted, loathsome."

"Don't forget arrogant," she added, teasing him.

Draco felt lighter than he had in months when he chuckled. "Well…I'm still arrogant."

"You can say that again," she muttered, rising from her seat.

He stood as well and stared at her back and her bouncing curls as she scrubbed her dish. "Why did you follow me in here? I've been awful to you for…well, the whole school year, really."

Granger turned around her large doe eyes sparkling in earnest. "Because you were upset. And Healer Little told us it's not healthy to bottle it all up. I figured I could come in here and you yell and slam the door in my face. I'm pleasantly surprised that you were instead civil. Though, I never would have pegged you for a chocolate man."

"Oh, really? And why's that?" he asked as he stepped around her to the sink.

"You seem much more like a vanilla kind of bloke," she said, and the bowl fell into the sink with a clatter.

Vanilla, rain, parchment. Those scents ran through his head multiple times a day. "I actually have a generalized sweet tooth."

"You learn something new every day," she was her reply before she suddenly became quiet.

When he turned around, it was clear she wanted to say something, wringing her hands and worrying her lip once more. His interest was piqued. "Something wrong, Granger?"

She took a moment, perhaps to gather her own courage, seemingly uncertain of how best to communicate with him, too. "Well…I—I wanted to thank you…"

Thank me? Besides splitting the most expensive ice cream available by owl, he had never done anything for her. "For?" he prompted.

"That night…in the rain…" Granger looked at her hands clasped in front of her, embarrassed by her moment of weakness.

Were they finally going to talk about that night? Draco had avoided speaking of it, as though saying the words aloud would erase the act and memories of it. "You needed someone to do it," he shrugged, ignoring the memory of how she felt in his arms.

Granger shook her head sadly and looked back up to his face. He became aware of how close they were standing, her scent hanging between them. "Everyone else just tells me to breathe or just pats me on the back until an episode subsides. No one has ever tried to get me to face my triggers before. And you did."

Draco hoped to convey a deeper meaning when he said, "The War left us all fucked up, Hermione. I happened to be there. You needed to face your demons and no one should have to do it alone."

"Thank you for bringing me into the rain. And for…after," she was whispering so softly, he struggled to catch her words.

She thinks about the embrace as well. She thinks about you, you useless gad. His heart fluttered. She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. "Well, thank you for the treat. I have to be going. I've got a dinner thing tomorrow and Ginny wants to pick out exactly what I'm going to wear."

She gave him a long-suffering roll of the eyes and a final small smile as she left. Draco felt a surge of jealousy. Granger was going to get all dolled up to go to dinner with his best friend. A best friend he currently felt like murdering with his bare hands.

o-o-o

A/N: It's endgame Dramione. The original was going to feature Theomione, but I cut it to just one chapter. It was choppy. So I fleshed this out a little more. Trust in me.

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