I'm so sorry for such a late update. I had a load of exams and coursework (which I still haven't done and will probably be murdered for) and I've just generally been really busy. But, I'm back now! Hopefully updates will be back to normal from now on.

Anyway, have a long chapter in apology. I hope it was worth the wait! I spent my Sunday writing this. You see, I punished myself. Enjoy.

I own nothing.

5th June 1998

"We have no butter. Or jam for that matter." Hermione uttered apologetically, placing a piled high plate of dry toast in the centre of the table. "We should go shopping soon. The cupboards are becoming unbearably empty."

"It's fine. I'll go and get a few things later on." Draco shrugged, causing Hermione to pause lifting a piece of toast to her mouth and gape at him.

"You?" She asked sceptically. "You want to go shopping?"

"Yes, Granger. Me."

"But you hate it!"

"Well, if I'm going to spend my inhumanely hard earned wage on muggle crap, I should at least be in charge of it."

"Will you be okay?" Hermione asked cautiously after pondering over his comment. "I mean, I know you don't fare so well in the presence of... well, muggles."

"Granger, you have dragged me – unwillingly, might I add - to that place a countless number of times since this ungodly sentence began. Not to mention I have to spend a gruelling nine hours with your lot every day at work. I'm sure I'll survive."

Hermione watched him carefully, grabbing another slice of toast from the pile and focusing all of her attention upon the blackened, overcooked crust. She had taken to ignoring him whenever he called her a muggle. She was tired of correcting the prat. But, something wasn't right. Malfoy was acting terribly strange this morning. He had allowed her to shower first without argument, he hadn't even insulted her. Not even mildly. Not once. And now he was offering to go shopping.

She had expected him to shout at her and insist that it was all her fault that they had run out of butter. He had done so when they had run out of milk last week. She knew how much he despised dry toast. But... he hadn't. He hadn't reacted in the slightest. It was almost unnerving.

"Malfoy, is there something wrong?" She blurted out, refusing to drag her eyes away from the cluster of crumbs forming on her side of the table. "You're being unnaturally compliant today. Not to mention you've been almost friendly to me. It's-"

"I'm being civil, Granger." He sighed, rolling his eyes and pushing the plate of toast away from himself. "I thought that was what you wanted."

"It is." She reassured him, nodding fervently. "I'm not complaining. Really, I'm not. Far from it... I'm just- I suppose I'm just curious as to what it is that's brought all of this decency on."

"I barely understand the meaning of the word decency, Granger, so I hardly think that I'm capable of portraying such a vile act. I just can't be bothered arguing with you. Not today."

"Why? What's so special about today?"

"Nothing-"

"No, go on. I want to know." She insisted, dropping her own toast and leaning back into her chair, folding her arms across her chest.

"Fucking hell, Granger, just drop it!" Malfoy snapped, slamming his palms down onto the table and standing up.

"Fine!" Hermione replied indignantly, mimicking the act. "I was only trying to help!"

"I don't need your help." He glowered. "Why the fuck would I need your help?"

"Because something is clearly bothering you!"

"There's nothing wrong with me! Stop bloody fussing, it's suffocating! I just- I feel like shit. I'm going to call into work and tell them I'm ill and I'll go shopping later. Happy?"

"You're ill?"

"Even purebloods get ill Granger, surprisingly enough."

"Shut up, I know that." She glared at him. "You were fine last night. Are you going to be okay? Do you need me to call a doctor?"

"What the fuck is a doctor?"

"A muggle healer." She shrugged and focused her attention on him. "Do you want me to call one? It might be serious. Do you feel sick? Do you have a temperature? Come here, let me feel your head-"

"Get the fuck away from me!" Malfoy cried, jumping from his seat and stepping away from her outstretched palm. "What the hell are you doing? You're a bloody mental case, Granger!"

"I'm trying to check your temperature!" She bit back. "It might be flu. Or maybe hayfever. Do you suffer from hayfever. A lot of people do this time of year, you know? I have some tablets in the bathroom if you'd like-"

"Granger, seriously, if you don't shut up I'm going to physically throw you out of this house. Merlin, I'm fine. Just piss off and go to work. I need peace. I need you to leave me the hell alone for a couple of hours before I lose my fucking mind. I assure you I won't die in your absence."

"Are you sure? I hate leaving people alone when they're ill-"

"I'm fucking fine! It's probably just a cold. I always knew muggles were disease ridden twats. It's probably from work."

"Muggles aren't disease ridden, Malfoy." Hermione jabbed him in the chest to emphasise her point, then stepped back to assess him one more time. "Are you sure you'll be okay? You know what to do if you get a fever or something, don't you? I can always-"

"Look, I won't go into the light. Happy now?"

"No. There's something else, I know there is." She commented airily, picking up her wand and making her way towards the kitchen door. "We live together, Malfoy. I'm forced to spend almost every waking moment in your presence. It's difficult not to notice when something is the matter."

"You're worse than my mother."

"It's my job to be worse than your mother." Hermione smiled. "I'm going to work. By the time I get back, I'll know exactly what's on your mind and we're going to talk about it-"

"You're not a fucking therapist, Granger-"

"No. I'm not. However, I refuse to watch you mope around the house for heaven knows how long. It's almost pitiful."

"Well, I look forward to that. Honestly, I'm pissing ecstatic." He chided her bitterly. He had pinned his hopes on one of her infamous explosive reactions just to take his mind off things. "And good luck trying to find out what's wrong with me. I assure you that you will find nothing."

"We'll see." Hermione sighed as she slipped out of the kitchen. "Call me if you need anything!"

Draco scowled at the spot she had been standing in just seconds before and growled, aiming a sharp kick at the table leg. He had been counting on another one of their screaming episodes. They were normal. They meant normality. And normality was hard to come by whilst being stuck in this place. Muggles were hardly desirable company.

And Granger was so fucking clueless! As if he would call her at work, even if there was something wrong. She had only acquired the bleeding telephone for him. She left her number written in almost every room. He was adamant that he would never use it, so he hardly saw the point.

However, the fact that she cared so bloody much stirred up feelings that he wasn't at all accostomed to. They made him uncomfortable and they most certainly were not welcome. She hated him and he hated her. She wasn't supposed to care. He didn't want her to care. It was disgusting. And she wouldn't find out the truth, of that he was sure. It was impossible. How could she? Besides, it wasn't as if he wanted her to know. Merlin, no. Of course he didn't. Today was just another day, just like any other. There was certainly no point in making an unnecessary fuss over something so painfully trivial.

Something definitely wasn't right. And Hermione was determined to find out what. Mafloy was upset, that much was obvious. However, she knew him well enough to know that he would rather snap his own wand in half than admit to it. He couldn't have been ill. He was never ill. In all the years she had known him at Hogwarts, she was almost positive that he had had less time off classes than she had. No, something was definitely bothering him. Something important. And she would find out, she really would. She just didn't know exactly how.

Much to her disdain, she was stuck at work. Although, this wasn't necessarily a bad thing. She enjoyed work, she enjoyed getting out of the house for hours at a time and she enjoyed talking to her colleagues. Yet, she had been having trouble avoiding Fletch these past couple of days. It seemed he was intent on talking to her at least once every day. It was only a matter of time before he asked her out again. But, the problem was that she just wasn't sure how she would answer such a question when it happened to arise.

Hermione liked Fletch. Really, she did. Why wouldn't she? He was perfect for her. But, there was something missing. Something that was bugging her endlessly. Fletch was a brilliant boss and a brilliant friend, but romantically, it was just... awkward. Even inside her own head it made no sense. She was over Ron, wasn't she? It wasn't as if she had any other love interests on the go. Maybe she simply needed to get out of the office. It was small and the walls were much too close together for her liking. Her stomach growled, signalling that she could do with lunch. Harry and Ron had gotten back from their latest mission yesterday afternoon, it would be good to see them. Maybe the fresh air would help her to come to her senses.

Grabbing her bag and lunch that she had brought from home, she headed out of her office and towards the Atrium. It was just reaching twelve o'clock anyhow, meaning that Ron would have dragged Harry to the Leaky Cauldron by now. Hermione had tried to convince him to try her favourite restaurant once. It hadn't really ended well when he had seen 'low fat' written beside one of the dishes on the menu.

It appeared as though she was to spend the rest of her foreseeable lunches in the dingy pub. Personally, she couldn't see the appeal. It was dark and damp and almost always filled with drunks who tended to fall asleep at the bar after a particularly painful karaoke solo. She reluctantly stepped through the threshold and, as was expected, spotted a flame of red hair towards the usual back table. Only, this wasn't the usual tuft of messy, short hair. This was a head of perfectly long and straight hair. Girl's hair.

"Ginny?"

"Hermione!" She squealed, jumping out of her seat and throwing her arms around Hermione's neck.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, well, it's nice to see you too." She rolled her eyes, taking her seat next to Harry. "Harry just got back from the mission, remember? I wanted to spend some time with him. He was gone for a week, you know? A whole week, Hermione!"

"Yes, I know. It was devastating." Hermione muttered sarcastically, sliding in beside Ron who was already busying himself with a plate of chips. "I suppose you wanted to spend some quality time with your big brother too?"

"Oh, Merlin no. He just invites himself along. Don't you, Ron?" Ginny nudged him, but he barely acknowledged her and Hermione could help but laugh.

"I always did admire that magical sibling relationship you share."

"It makes me thankful to be an only child." Harry commented.

"They love each other really." Hermione smiled.

"So," Ginny leaned in, grinning. Hermione knew this move and it never failed to make her nervous. "How's Malfoy?"

"Why is that the first question anybody ever asks me these days?" Hermione grumbled. "Malfoy's Malfoy. How much do you expect the situation to change?"

"Well, how are you dealing with being near him? Like all the time? Like when he gets out of the shower and he's wearing nothing but a towel? Don't you just want to-"

"Merlin, Gin! Honestly? This is Malfoy we are talking about! Draco Malfoy!" Hermione cried. "Not to mention your boyfriend is sat right next you! I think you've traumatized poor Harry. Look at his face!"

It was true. The colour had drained from Harry's face before Ginny could even get a word out. It seemed he knew her as well as Hermione did. Ron wasn't faring much better either. He had managed to spill tomato sauce down his shirt in the middle of his sister's interrogation and seemed completely unaware of the fact.

"It was purely theoretical, obviously." Ginny sighed. "You're no fun. The lot of you. You're boring."

"And you're bloody mental!" Ron choked out.

"Can we just never mention Malfoy again? Please?" Harry asked weakly.

"I'm more than happy to oblige to that request. Thank you, Harry. Thank you so much." Hermione replied.

"Fine." Ginny groaned. "Oh! I know what we can talk about, Hermione! I got my Hogwarts letter this morning. And you'll never guess what."

"What?"

"I'm a prefect!" She beamed. "I know it's not quite Head Girl, but all the same..."

"That's fantastic! Oh, well done Ginny! Really, I'm so happy for you!"

"So, what's it like? Being a prefect. I'd ask Ron but..."

"Yes, I see what you mean." Hermione giggled, looking over at Ron who had moved onto the eggs. "Oh, it's the best, Gin. You're going to absolutely love it!"

Lunch had helped. She had hoped it would and was glad to have been right. It was good to see Ginny again. She didn't have many girl friends and it was nice to be able to have somebody who understood the things that Harry and Ron could never quite grasp. Also, the prospect of Ginny becoming a prefect had helped to cheer her up significantly. It sounded as if seventh year was something she would have thouroughly enjoyed herself. Of course, the war had made that impossible. She had barely been able to acknowledge her seventh year, let alone enjoy it.

Naturally, being Hermione Granger, clearing her head was a wasted effort. As she pushed open the door to her office, she realised that finding it unlocked certainly wasn't the worst of her worries. No, that would be Narcissa Malfoy. Narciss Malfoy who was currently sat at the desk, seated opposite Hermione's chair with an expression of pure determination mixed in with desperation etched upon her features.

"Mrs Malfoy?" Hermione asked cautiously, moving around the desk to take a seat herself. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh, Miss Granger. I hate to disturb you like this. I know you must be terribly busy with the aftermath of the war and... well, you see, Mr Fletcher allowed me to wait for you here. I have a request, you see."

"A request?" Hermione furrowed her brows and gestured for the blonde woman to continue.

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't so important to me. I wasn't going to, not at all, but I could hardly sleep with the guilt. Us Malfoy's aren't at all familiar with the feeling, as I'm sure you're aware. You are living with my son, after all." Narcissa paused, chewing her lip. It seemed as though she was contemplating on what to say next. "It's Draco's birthday today, you see... his eighteenth. And I'd be ever so grateful if you could pass on a birthday card from me. He must be so terribly lonely with only you for company. I don't think I could bare it if I didn't at least wish him a happy birthday."

"He's not lonely." Hermione defended. "In fact, I believe he rather enjoys testing my patience. It must pass the time for him-"

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger." Narcissa interrupted. "I didn't mean to offend you. Really, I didn't. That wasn't my intention at all... I just- He's all alone out there in the muggle world. And I imagine that he must be missing his family and friends desperately. It feels like such a long time considering where he is and why he is there. Not at all how it felt when he left for Hogwarts. I'd hate to have him think that I'd forgotten his birthday."

Well, at least she now knew what had been bothering Malfoy all morning. Come to think of it, he had seemed utterly miserable. Oh, how could she not know? It was his birthday! Of course it was! She had read over his file countless times, again and again. His birth date was the second piece of information printed onto the inside cover, right underneath his name. How could she have not realised?

However, this was still Malfoy. The foul git that she had hated relentlessly for over seven years. She shouldn't feel guilty. She shouldn't feel bad. She shouldn't feel anything! Yet... she did. She felt it all.

"Mrs Malfoy..." Hermione tried her best to come up with a way to phrase this without upsetting the woman. "I-"

"Please!" She sputtered. "I know that it's against the rules of his sentence. I do! I know that he is to have no contact whatsoever with his family. But, it's his birthday! It's just a card. I just want to let him know that I'm thinking of him. Nothing more. Please, Miss Granger."

"I'd love to, I really would, but I can't." Hermione sighed. "It's against the rules. It could jeopardize my whole career to accept a card from you. I'm sorry, Mrs Malfoy, I really am... But, I can't."

"Please, Hermione. Merlin, it's only a card! Nobody has to know! He's my son! Please!"

"I'm sorry, Mrs Malfoy. I just can't. Draco is lucky to have been let off with the sentence he has been given. The Wizengamot are not known for their kindness. I can't endanger that. To allow you to contact him in any way would be to break the rules and put both me and your son in danger of a harsh punishment."

"I could pay you for your troubles." Narcissa almost begged. Hermione had never seen anything so heartbreaking. "I have galleons. Please, just let me give him a birthday card. I can't bare to think of him without his friends and family wishing him a happy birthday. He always has such a huge celebration. He's used to so much attention today. I can't just leave him."

"I'm sorry." Hermione whispered, her voice on the verge of breaking as she gazed into Narcissa's eyes. She had never seen a Malfoy cry before. It wasn't as satisfying as she had imagined it would be. Not in the slightest. "I'm so sorry. But, I can't."

Narcissa seemed as though she wished to take it further. That famous Malfoy temper was brewing and Hermione could feel it. Just when it looked as though she was about to scream bloody murder in Hermione's direction, she simply took a shaky breath and nodded.

"I understand." She sighed defeatedly. Hermione was almost worried about the woman. She had never seen a Malfoy in such a sorry state. "Would you- what I mean to say is, could you possibly be able to inform him that I dropped by? Just to say happy birthday."

"I-" She was supposed to say no, but the broken sight of Narcissa was pulling on her heartstrings just a little too hard. She would never know if she went against her word. Just a little white lie to make the mother feel better... "Of course."

Narcissa nodded once more, took another shaky breath to compose herself and rose from the chair. She turned to leave and Hermione was just about to distract herself with her work when she turned back around, hand on the door knob. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Mrs Malfoy." Hermione smiled sadly at her. "I'm sorry that I couldn't have been more help."

And with that, Narcissa Malfoy stepped out of her office, leaving a very confused and guilt ridden Hermione behind her.

How could she have been so stupid? It was Malfoy's birthday. It was the most obvious thing in the world. She should have figured it out straight away. She should have known in the first place! It seemed she had a lot of making up to do with the blond. The prospect didn't exactly thrill her, but at this precise moment in time she was feeling too awful to care. She had always stood by the belief that nobody should be alone on their birthday. She wasn't about to break it for him.

"I'm back!" Hermione called out as she dumped her bag onto the cabinet by the front door. She had never expected a response.

She found him in the living room, sprawled out on the sofa – his sofa – looking more miserable than she had ever witnessed him looking. Hermione was used to his brooding and his moaning, but she had never known him to be so downhearted. It made her feel almost nervous around him.

She refused to be nervous around Draco bloody Malfoy, birthday or no birthday.

"Are you still unwell?" She asked, leaning against the doorframe to look at him.

"Yes." It was barely a reply, but he turned to scowl at her nonetheless.

"Do you want me to get you anything? I could get you some paracetamol, it will help you feel better."

"I'm fine."

"Malfoy, is there something else bothering you today?"

"No." He shrugged. "Why?"

"Oh, I was just curious..." She sighed and sat down on her sofa. "You just look so down. I'm sure there must be something bothering you. You can tell me, you know? I don't mind."

"I told you, I'm fine. Just leave me the fuck alone."

Hermione didn't budge. She was determined to get the truth from him. However, it was difficult when looking at the expression on his face almost made her want to cry. He looked so lonely. It was true. Maybe Narcissa had been right. Maybe he was more vulnerable than she believed him to be. The thought was disturbing and yet, she couldn't shake it off.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Do I look like I want to fucking talk about it?" He snapped.

"So, there is something to talk about?"

"No! Granger, will you please just get lost?" He sighed defeatedly.

Hermione almost gasped. "Did I hear you correctly? Did you just say please?" She smiled. "Did Draco Malfoy just say please to a muggleborn such as myself?"

"Yes. And I'll say it again if it will get you to leave me alone."

"No, it won't. But I would love to hear it." She grinned, only to have him frown at her.

"Not a chance, Granger. It was a once in a lifetime experience, nothing more."

"Well, that's a shame. It was rather pleasant to listen to, so much more becoming than your usual vulgar language."

"Granger, go away." He groaned, turning his face into the cushions.

"You look pitiful."

"I couldn't even begin to give a shit if I tried." He murmured into the material.

He wasn't going to admit to it, that much was obvious. Why did he have to be so irritatingly stubborn? The guilt was beginning to feel as if it was eating at her from the inside. It was horrible. She had never felt so awful. Malfoy certainly wasn't making the situation any easier as he lay on his sofa, unmoving and looking absolutely pathetic. She had been able to feel her resolve breaking from the moment Narcissa Malfoy had left her office that afternoon.

"Bugger this!" She cried, jumping up from the sofa and heading back towards the door. "I'll be back later."

She didn't give him a chance to question her, simply took advantage of her apparition for once and left the house with a sharp crack.

Hermione had sworn to herself that she would never return to this place. It held too many memories. Horrible memories. Memories that she would give anything to forget. But, this was important. She couldn't deal with Malfoy's suffering a moment longer. After all, didn't they say that desperate times call for desperate measures? And this was certainly a desperate measure.

It appeared no different to how she remembered it, to how it had appeared to her on that terrible day. It was still dark, still dreadful to the utmost extreme as it loomed above her. It still chilled her to the bone just to be in its presence.

She supposed that Malfoy Manor was akin to the family who usually resided within it; intimidating and uncomfortable.

Was she supposed to knock? Surely there was a bell somewhere. In a building this size, it must be difficult to hear if anybody knocks. Nevertheless, there was no bell, no buzzer, no nothing. Though she supposed there wouldn't be, not at the home of such prestigious purebloods. So, she rapped on the dark wood three times and hoped for the best. She barely had to wait ten seconds when a little house elf pulled open the heavy door.

"Good evening, Miss. How can Mattie help you, Miss?"

"Hello, Mattie." She smiled down at the elf with ears just a little bit too big for the rest of her frame, swathed in what appeared to be an old pillow case. "My name is Hermione Granger. Would it be possible to speak with Narcissa Malfoy?"

"Why would you like to speak to my Mistress, Miss?"

"I'm here in regards to her son, Draco Malfoy." Hermione explained.

Mattie's eyes widened considerably at the mention of her master. Hermione had to hold in a laugh as she watched her fluster.

"Mattie will be right back, Miss. I must go and fetch my Mistress, Miss."

Hermione stood before the threshold of the manor awkwardly whilst she waited for Mattie to return with Narcissa. She was thankful that it didn't take long, it was hard to be in the presence of such a place on her own.

"Miss Granger?" Narcissa asked. "Oh, Merlin, is it Draco? Is he okay? Is he hurt? Has something happened to him? Miss Granger, please-"

"He's fine, Mrs Malfoy! Draco's fine." Hermione assured.

"I don't mean to be rude Miss Granger, but then why are you here?"

"I've been thinking about what you said," Hermione began, trying her best to beat down the nerves and the butterflies in her stomach. "I think- what I mean to say is that you were right about what you said. After all, it is his birthday, he should be allowed a little something. And I'm sorry that I refused to take your card to Draco. I know how much it would mean to you both."

"What are you saying?" Narcissa whispered with raised eyebrows.

"What I'm saying is that I am willing to take a birthday card to your son." Narcissa beamed at the news and was about to say something when Hermione stopped her. "On one condition. Mrs Malfoy, nobody can know. You can't tell anybody that I allowed this. It would put both my job and the severity of your son's sentence at risk."

"Of course, of course. I won't tell a soul." Narcissa nodded, reaching into her robe. "I have it right here. I didn't want to let it go, you see. Just in case... It's silly, I know, but-"

"I understand, Mrs Malfoy. Really, I do."

"I know it may be too much to ask but... I have a present too. It's only a little something."

"Oh, I don't know, I-" Hermione was going to protest until she saw the pleading look in the mother's eyes. "Okay. Okay, I'll take the present to Draco too. But, nobody can know, Mrs Malfoy. Please remember that!"

"Yes, yes, thank you, Miss Granger!"

Hermione took the card from her first and then she handed her the present. It was only a small gift, no bigger than the palm of her hand and wrapped in expensive paper. Though, she couldn't have expected any less from Draco Malfoy's mother.

"Thank you ever so much Miss Granger. I really am grateful."

"I know." Hermione nodded as she slipped the gifts into her bag, preparing to apparate. "Goodbye, Mrs Malfoy."

She didn't apparate back to the house straight away, but took a detour. She had lived with Draco long enough now to know his likes and dislikes, and Chinese take-away was, by far, his favourite. Of course, they only ever had take-away on a Saturday night, simply to even out who cooked on what days. Neither was willing to do more, both as stubborn as each other. But, after all, this was Draco's birthday. And she certainly had some making up to do for not knowing.

Upon arriving back home, she found Draco in the same position she had left him in; sprawled out on the sofa with his face stuffed into the cushions. He looked as sorrowful as ever.

"Draco?" Hermione asked tentatively. "Are you asleep?"

"Yes." He groaned, slowly lifting his head. "I thought you'd finally done as you were told and buggered off elsewhere."

"I did..." She shuffled further into the room and sat down on the arm of the sofa that he was lying on. "I got us a take-away. Chinese."

"It's Tuesday, Granger." He furrowed his eyebrows and sat up to look at her.

"Yes, I know." She smiled. "Tuesday 5th June. And, I do believe that it's your birthday today."

"What-"

"Correct me if I'm mistaken, but you turn eighteen today, do you not?"

"Yes, but I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to make a pissing fuss out of it."

"It's your birthday, Draco, I can't not make a fuss. Everybody should celebrate their birthday."

"Stop calling me Draco. It's unnatural."

"No. As I said, it's your birthday. I figured I'd give you the gift of a first name."

"I don't give a shit if it's my birthday. I don't want to celebrate it. It's just another day, Granger. It's not as if I have anybody to celebrate it with, so there's no fucking point."

"You have me-"

"You're honestly deluded enough to think that I'd celebrate my birthday with you? I'm not that desperate, Granger, fucking hell."

"Oh, you will. You're lonely-"

"I'm not lonely!" He snarled. "Just fuck off and leave me alone!"

"No, I don't think I will." Hermione shook her head and slid onto the seat beside him, ignoring the fact that he shuffled away. "You see, I spent good money on this Chinese and I don't plan to eat it by myself. I even went to the gruelling effort of ordering you chop suey, and you know how I despise the smell of it-"

"Granger, I'm not fucking around. Seriously, just-"

"And," Hermione interjected. "I had a visit from your mother today. Awfully worried, she was. She had a card for you and, well, rules are rules, so I had to refuse."

"What the f-"

"But, I did feel a little guilty, I must admit. So, I took a trip to your house and your mother gave me a card and a present for you. I must say, it was awfully wrong of me to accept them, after all it is against the rules of your sentence. But, I suppose I can make an exception... Just for today. So long as nobody finds out, obviously. I would get in a lot of trouble. I'm risking my job for you. I hope you're pleased with yourself."

"Me? How is it my fault?"

"Well, if you hadn't looked so pitiful, I wouldn't have bothered." She grinned.

"You're getting on my last nerve, Granger." He sneered. However, Hermione didn't miss the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Do you take pride in being so bloody meddlesome? It's a very unattractive trait to have."

"I just can't help myself." She shrugged, pulling the gift from Narcissa from her bag and handing them over to him. "Happy birthday, Draco."

He took the card and the present wordlessly, ripping them open before her eyes. The card was simple and yet Hermione guessed that it had set Narcissa back a heavy sack of galleons. She didn't get to see what was written inside.

"No mention of my father, I see." He grimaced. "Though, why should there be?"

Hermione didn't speak. She didn't really know what to say to such a remark. He had never mentioned his father before, not really. The only time he had ever acknowledged him was during one of their earlier quarrels, and those times had never ended particularly pleasantly. He opened the small box next, revealing a silky, black ring box. He popped it open and smirked.

"Of course." He let out a short laugh. "The family ring. I lost it during the battle of Hogwarts last year. Only mother would be sentimental enough to have it replaced."

"I think it's lovely." Hermione commented quietly, admiring the piece of jewellery.

The right was bulky and yet elegant in its own personal way. A solid silver snake seemed to have been wrapped into an intricate knot to create the piece and a small, dark emerald stone was set into the silver in place of an eye. It wasn't altogether Hermione's taste, but it was radiant nonetheless.

"Will you wear it?" She asked.

"I suppose so. She would only nag at me if she saw me without it."

"You don't like it." It was more of a statement than a question.

"It reminds me of sixth year." He frowned, closing the lid on the ring. "I'd much rather I wasn't reminded of that period in my life. It doesn't exactly hold the happiest of memories."

"I suppose not..." Hermione murmured. She quickly shook herself out of her thoughts and stood up, grabbing the carrier bag on the coffee table. "Chinese?"

"With you?"

"Well, I'd prefer it if we didn't eat alone like sad, lonely old Goblins." She chuckled. "Besides, I could do with the conversation. I'm running out of books-"

"You are running out of books?"

"What?" She glared. "I'm due a trip to the book shop."

"We have a library, Granger." He smirked. "A whole library."

"Well... I've read everything." She stuttered, a blush creeping slowly up her neck. "Anyway! Chinese! Come on, I'm starving."

"Fine, if you insist." He smirked. "But, you do know that I still hate you, don't you? This changes nothing." His tone was serious, his stare almost penetrating and Hermione would have been hurt had she not convinced herself of the same thing.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Malfoy."