Just a quick update and, of course, many and sincere thanks to those who reviewed: MzMalfoy, daniiibabii, Sweeney B and MemoiresofaLostCause. I love to hear from you, it is a real boost to the my writing drive and, I think, quality.

Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing.

Chapter 11

Thursday's lessons passed without incident for the Head Boy and Head Girl. Draco had stayed with his Mother for as long as he could, pushing his eleven o'clock curfew near to the limit as he put off leaving her alone in the vast house; when he had arrived back he had headed straight to bed with a bottle of dreamless sleep draught. Hermione had passed a pleasant evening with Harry and Ron and then slept soundly, despite her trepidation for the meeting with Malfoy which the next day would bring. Consequently, both had woken refreshed and headed to their lessons determined to make the most of their day before the inevitable had awoken with enough patience to smile good naturedly through Blaise's boasting over the night before and lamenting over his friend's early departure. Hermione enjoyed the recovered easiness with Ron as the boys walked her to her Ancient Runes lesson, and the trio spent time together during the day's break times.

But once the day's lessons were over Hermione had little to distract her from her discomfort at the thought of the coming practice. She went to the library, intent on starting her translations, but in truth the time between her last lesson and dinner was filled with her mind replaying the last rehearsal's incident. She saw again the horrified look on Malfoy's face when she had started crying, and his alarmed expression when she had backed away from him. By the time Hermione had settled down at the Gryffindor table she was in such a state of anguished nerves that she couldn't bring herself to eat more than a few mouthfuls. It made no difference that the boys were back to sitting next to her on the bench and would doubtless fret over her odd behaviour, she simply had no appetite. Excusing herself, she headed up to their practice space hoping that limbering up might rid her of her nerves.

She did not have to wait long: Draco was hoping to visit his mother again that evening, and so when he saw Hermione leave the Great Hall he had rushed his own meal in case they might finish the rehearsal early. Hermione was just starting to stretch when Draco appeared in the doorway.

"Hi," she said breathily.

"Hello," he returned.

"Hey," Hermione responded automatically, colouring at her incoherence. Draco's mouth corners turned up a little, hiding an amused smile at the usually-cool Head Girl's slipup. "How are you?" Hermione began, trying to distract from her mistake and using the first phrase in her conversational arsenal.

"Fine," Draco answered quickly, adding a slight shrug and "Just fine." as he realised how curt his reply could seem.

"Great… I'm sorry about yesterday, I'm afraid something came up – I know you've got a schedule drawn up, everything quite worked out, I hope I haven't disrupted that too much, I just really, really couldn't… I'm usually much more reliable." Hermione's words tumbled out as she made a show of meticulously stretching out her ankles to keep from meeting his eye. He hadn't tried to interrupt her and so she had filled up the silence with chatter (a nervous habit she seemed to have developed over night).

"Granger, I'm not a professor so you needn't feel like you've broken your perfectly consistent record. And I don't think there's a soul in this castle that doesn't know you're reliable. It's not a problem." Draco smirked at her from where he leant on the doorjamb, his own anxiety having diminished at the sight of hers. His smirk only grew as he watched her cheeks turn a slightly brighter shade of pink. It was hardly a flattering colour for a person's complexion, but his sharp eyes picked up the way it caused her smattering of freckles darkened somewhat, and he could not help but admire them.

"Right. Well then… good. Shall we get on with it?" Hermione suggested quietly, a little disconcerted by his lingering gaze, and eager to distract from the last time they were in this room together.

…

Hermione breathed heavily as she leant against the mirrored wall, her cheeks flushed with pleasure and a smile of triumph stretching her lips. Draco was sat on the floor a few feet away, leaning against the stacked furniture and watching her. She flickered her hazel eyes across to him and beamed carelessly. The past two hours had been spent very cordially, and in her learning success Hermione could not be reserved.

"Yes! We did it!"

"That we did Granger, that we did."

"The whole way through a song – a whole song!"

"Yes! But, we've got lifts to go yet. And if you're this exhausted from a few false starts and one run though, we've still got our work cut out."

"Oh you needn't be so pessimistic, Mr Negative," said Hermione, stepping away from the wall and pointing an accusatory finger at him. "If you carry on like this I shan't listen to you – nothing shall distract me from my triumph!" Draco couldn't help but laugh as she tipped back her head and closed her eyes, stretching her arms out and smiling as though basking in imaginary praise and glory.

"Your success?! Pah! I'd like to see how you'd have faired without me," Draco teased as he fluidly stood up and brushed imaginary lint from his clothes.

Hermione opened one eye suspiciously, then made an exaggeratedly gracious gesture with her hand. "Well I suppose you helped a little, thank you kindly, but you must admit that my skill has made all the difference – not to mention my natural grace!" Here she stuck her tongue out at the guffawing head boy, before her mirth took over and she grinned.

"Haha, well if I'd known you having a good cry would've properly connected your head to your feet, I would have been sure to stamp on your toes now and then!" Draco teased, smiling down at her.

Draco could have cursed himself as he saw Hermione's carefree face fall at the memory of their last rehearsal. Her lips pursed as she turned away from him, her shoulders slumping and her whole posture closing off. He could see her fiddling awkwardly with a finger nail as she headed towards the corner where she had left her bag and shoes. Overwhelmed with guilt and frustration at his own thoughtlessness, Draco followed a few paces behind her.

"Look Hermione, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… upset you. I was only joking – we were having a laugh. I am sorry." Draco finished genuinely, if rather lamely.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder, and saw his contrite expression. Sighing she turned to face him, dropping the shoe she had just taken off and balancing on one heel. "Could we just… forget about that? You can only imagine how mortified I am, I'd really prefer it if we never spoke of it – even in jest."

"Of course," Draco responded immediately, quite alarmed by the amount of relief he felt, "I understand, I'm quite –" Draco broke off chivalrously when Hermione spoke over him. She had rushed to pull on her shoes and sling her bag over her shoulder, and believing he was about to go into an automatic chivalrous speech had interrupted.

"I'm just going to go Malfoy… I'll see you tomorrow."

"Alright, goodnight Granger." Draco watched as she left, suddenly glad that she was going when he had been far too close to genuinely opening up to her. He had been prepared to tell her hopelessly useless seeing her cry had made him feel, and how foolish he felt when she rejected his comfort – although he probably would not have revealed that a part of him had felt that rejection very keenly. And as Draco turned away from the door that swung shut after her, he was very aware that these confessions would probably have led him to admitting that he admired her immensely, and that a few tears after everything she had been through was not something that he could ever scorn.

Draco soon followed Hermione out, heading to the Headmistress' Office so he could get a pass tp see the one woman he could allow himself to be tender with.