Chapter 21—Learning to Cope

December 22

Mr. Darcy,

The strangest thing happened today. I was feeling stronger, so I fought off the Stupefy they usually send my way in the afternoon. The guards all thought I was unconscious, so I watched as they gathered to speak to someone I couldn't see. I could swear I heard them say your name, but that's not the odd part. I thought I saw you, love. I only know two people with your lovely blond hair, and the other... Well, it just couldn't have been him. But it couldn't have been you either, could it?

I think I'm going insane. I hope I'll be out of here soon. I miss you so much.

Hermione

The first three months of the school year had flown by. Between classes, committee meetings, prefects duties, and time with Draco, Hermione had been managing with a full schedule. Needless to say, she was looking forward to a peaceful, relaxing holiday—that is, until she remembered that she had to juggle her clueless friends and snarky boyfriend. So much for peaceful.

Harry and Ron still didn't know about Draco; she hadn't gathered the nerve to let them know. A letter by owl didn't seem sufficient or appropriate (not to mention the very real possibility of getting a Howler in return), and the aforementioned busy schedule hadn't allowed her any time to see them in person. Sure, she had avoided a few owls and Floo requests, but she needed time to figure out exactly how to explain it to them.

The second time Hermione had shrugged off one of the boys' requests to see her, Draco had asked her if she was ashamed of him. The question stung her heart, and through their bond she could feel the concern and the hurt that he felt. She had promptly grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him, deep and fervent and intense. When she'd pulled away, she stared into his hypnotic silvery eyes and assured him that she felt many things for him, but shame was definitely not one of them. Her heart had leapt when he smiled at her then.

And it was then that she'd insisted that Draco spend Christmas with her at the Burrow. Her mind had been clouded with concern, with adoration, with determination, and with a bit of trademark Gryffindor stubbornness. Now that it was only a few short days away, though, her stomach churned with anxiety. Peaceful and relaxing didn't seem to be in the cards.

So the brunette sat in the library, in a small alcove behind the Restricted Section, gazing absently at the handsome blond in front of her. In those three months, she had learned him: the way his hair fell when he bent over a book, the way his eyes shone as he took in new information, the way he bit his cheek when he was lost in thought, the way his lips twitched into a cautious smile when he looked at her. And to be fair, she was familiar to him as well. He had learned how to make all of her favorite breakfast foods, had read every single novel she had given him in challenge, had discovered just what to say to bring her out of her own head. They'd become so comfortable with each other, sustaining meaningful conversation and playful banter, memorized each other's habits, figured out exactly how Hermione's dainty hand fit into Draco's. And of course, Hermione had done plenty of research into Veela magic, which eased her mind whenever she feared that this was going too fast.

Apparently, he'd noticed her gaze, even though he hadn't looked up from the Potions book in his hand. He smirked and slid his hand over to rub small circles on her forearm. "Am I starring in one of your fantasies again, love? Do tell."

Hermione flushed a brilliant shade of red and playfully swatted his arm. "Prat. I was just thinking about Christmas, actually."

"Oh? Nervous about seeing the dimwitted duo?" He cocked an eyebrow, still looking intently at the instructions for brewing the Draught of Living Death.

"You know, I'm not. See, I have this boyfriend who's rather sweet, and he's coming with me..."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, indeed. And he's going to be a perfect gentleman and not fight with my friends—"

"Did he say that?"

"He didn't have to, because if he doesn't, he's not getting so much as a tissue for Christmas."

The steel-eyed Slytherin grinned, finally looking up at her. "Quite a threat from my Gryffindor princess. You have some of Salazar in you yet, love."

"Sod off!"

"Only if you ask politely," he chided as he leaned over his armrest towards her.

She rolled her eyes and smiled into his kiss, her spine still tingling as if it was their first.

"Before I decide whether to play nice, just what did you get me for Christmas?"

"Draco, love, you really are a fool if you think I'm going to tell you."

"Would it help if I took my shirt off?"

"No, but I won't stop you." It was her turn to smirk.

"I knew you couldn't resist me."

"As if you gave me a choice, mate," she emphasized.

Before he could respond, a dragon-shaped piece of parchment landed on Hermione's lap. The origami Opaleye reared its tiny head and then expanded, revealing tiny scrawl that read "Twenty minutes. Astronomy tower. Come alone."

She furrowed her brow as she tried to place the handwriting, not able to identify who sent it.

"What's that, love?"

"I've got no bloody clue. If I'm not back in the dormitory in an hour, come to the Astronomy tower." She thought for a moment. "Actually, come either way, will you?" She smiled teasingly and reveled in the sound of his groan.

"You're going to be the death of me, witch."

She blew him a delicate kiss before spinning on her heel toward the tower. The note had said twenty minutes, but she figured she would go earlier to try and gain whatever advantage she could, just in case she needed it. While she climbed the steps toward the open tower, she thought carefully about how to let the Weasleys know that she'd be bringing a guest. Ginny wasn't bringing Blaise since he spent every holiday with his parents in Florence, so it would just be Draco tossed in with a family of Gryffindors. She decided to send a vague owl to Mrs. Weasley, just to say that there would be an extra face at the celebration, but she knew she couldn't tell her who it was. If she told anyone, they would inevitably tell Ron, and she needed to make that revelation herself...

Before long, she had arrived at the tallest tower in the school. The curly-haired witch kept her wand at her side, ready at a moment's notice. Once she'd ensured that the place was empty, she took a moment at the balcony. The soft breeze caressed her freckled face, and she closed her eyes and breathed in the light scent of fresh grass and lilies. Hermione hadn't been back up here since the night of the Back-to-School Ball, but she promised herself she'd visit more often when she felt cool relaxation slip over her.

Too soon, she heard the creak of the door as two sets of footsteps fell into the room. She turned swiftly, clutching her wand tight, but she eased back against the balcony once she saw Blaise and Theo stroll inside. Nott's eyes twinkled mischievously. "I didn't think you'd actually show, Granger. Seems I underestimated you."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the shadow of a smile that teased at her lips. "To what do I owe this... well, I don't want to say pleasure," she teased.

"Come on, Hermione, these past few months have been fun! Like that Hogsmeade trip two weeks ago, when the five of us decided to go out together—" Blaise began.

"Six!" Theo cut in. "Though I can't remember the name of the bloke I brought along. He was rather dull, wasn't he?"

"It was that Davies prat, and you know he only came because he thought you were going to shag afterwards. You're not even romantically inclined, mate, I'm still confused as to why you brought him."

"Convenience," he smirked. "But that Zeller girl was a better lay. She did this—"

Hermione coughed. "As fascinating as this is, I don't really want to know about what she did with you! Would you just tell me what you two summoned me up here for?"

"Oh, right. Well, we wanted to cordially invite you to a little Slytherin Christmas shindig—"

"And you couldn't do that with the clever little Opaleye? Nice charmwork, by the way."

"That was me," Blaise grinned. "I was going to go with a Ukrainian Ironbelly, but the Opaleye is less aggressive. And it was just more fun this way."

"Plus, if we hex you, we might finally get Malfoy for a while. You've been keeping him to yourself a lot lately." Theo cocked an eyebrow suggestively.

Hermione blushed. "It's not my fault he likes me better than you, is it?"

"Not fair, you have that Veela magic to your advantage!"

"Besides, even if you did manage to beat me in a duel—which I doubt, by the way—he's coming up here in a few minutes anyway," the Gryffindor stuck her tongue out at the two boys in front of her.

"Why would he do that?"

"Blaise, you should know. You're the one who told me that this is where you bring your women, so I figured Draco and I could—"

"Ooh, okay, I see why you stopped me! I don't need to hear any more of this!" Theo covered his ears childishly and glared. "The two of you are so sappy, it makes me sick!" he yelled a little too loudly.

"I happen to disagree. I think you two are more sassy than sappy. You're both quite annoying, actually." Blaise examined his nails coolly.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the tall, lean wizard. "As if you and Ginny are any better, hmm? Two words, Zabini: Restricted. Section." She beamed triumphantly as he had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. "Speaking of my fiery friend, will she be at this shindig?"

"Actually, yes. I think we overstated it. It'll you and your blond, me and my ginger, and Theo and his—hmm. Theo, who are you bringing again?" Blaise had to raise his voice for Theo to hear. When he did, the brunette boy grinned wickedly.

"Haven't decided, actually. I was thinking Zacharias Smith, but I might invite Mandy Brocklehurst. Maybe I'll bring both...?" he trailed off.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Either way, it'll be six. Or seven. Merlin." He brought up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose exasperatedly. "Tomorrow night. Dress pretty, Granger, so I can check you out and make Draco jealous."

"I'll think about it," she winked conspiratorially. "Now, you better take him—" she jerked her head at Theo "—and get going before Draco gets here." It took the two boys about three seconds to clear right out of the tower.

The next night went by smoothly enough. Draco had threatened Blaise when the Italian wizard had kissed Hermione's cheek, and Theo's dates got into a fistfight after one too many butterbeers, but the brunette hadn't laughed so hard since before the War. As she glanced around the room at an old friend, two new companions, and one unexpected love, she beamed and shook her head. Not even Trelawney's barmy Divination could've predicted this, but she was so thankful for every single part of it. Before the night was over, Blaise had pulled her aside to tip her off that Draco had some very particular Christmas traditions; he wouldn't give any more details, but the devilish twinkle in his eye made her laugh nervously.

That was the previous night, though. This was Christmas Eve, and she and Draco had to Floo to the Burrow for the holidays. Hermione stood in front of her drawers in a fluffy white robe and slippers, glaring at the clothing in front of her. She had already charmed her hair so it fell in simple, loose curls down her back, but her attire for their arrival at the Weasley residence was another issue. She scowled at the outfit she'd picked, a plain white blouse and a pair of black jeans. "Draco!" she called, finally ceding her pride in exchange for his assistance.

He stuck his head in the door and smirked. "Thirteen minutes, twenty-seven seconds. A new record, love."

She scrunched her nose at him. "Will you just please help me find something to wear?"

"It'll cost you, beautiful." Of course, he was already dressed in grey slacks and a green button-down shirt. He strode over, smirk unwavering, and pecked her on the lips lightly. Leaving his hands wrapped around her waist, he turned toward her clothes. "Let's see now. You weren't really going to wear that, were you? Hermione, I adore you, but your wardrobe choices trouble me sometimes."

"If you're going to be mean, I'll just choose something red and gold—"

"I'm sorry, darling," he said quickly, kissing the top of her head. "I have to say, I'm partial to what you're wearing now..."

"Draco!"

"Oh, come on, live a little! Weasley wouldn't believe his eyes! ...Actually, that's probably not the best idea—"

"You're ridiculous, I swear to Merlin—"

"Alright, alright, I'll be serious." He laughed anyway, and she couldn't help but smile at him. "Why is this so difficult for you, anyway?"

"Just because you've got it so easy, Draco..." she trailed off, a thought crossing her mind. "Actually, that's not bad."

He knotted his eyebrows as he watched her face light up. "What? What'd I miss?"

She barely acknowledged him as she darted through the joint bathroom into his bedroom.

"How in Salazar's name did Potter and Weasley manage to deal with you for so may years?" he cracked. Sighing, he propped himself on the edge of his bed, watching the brunette tear through his clothes. "It's not enough that you've tossed all of your own clothing around, now you've got to go through mine?"

"Don't you have anything more casual and less morning-after than these button downs?" Hermione tossed a handful of the offending shirts onto the floor.

"I wouldn't mind seeing you in one of those, love."

Ignoring him completely, she turned to the sweaters that were folded neatly in a drawer. "Ah, this'll do!" she grinned as she pulled out a charcoal-colored V-neck sweater.

"Darling, though I love that you're helping yourself to my things, don't you have something similar?"

"This one's softer, and I can pull the sleeves over my hands this way! And I will never understand why men's clothing is always more comfortable than women's. It's a true outrage—"

He chuckled and turned her by the shoulders. "You can rant to me later, Hermione. Right now, you should put that on before I decide we're better off staying here and letting you traipse around in my shirts."

"Oh, you crude little..." she trailed off as she marched back into her own room. She emerged only a few minutes later in his sweater and a pair of light blue jeans.

"Not that you don't look breathtaking, because you do, but won't the wonder twins notice you in my shirt?"

Hermione laughed. "You promised you would be nice! And no, they won't. Ronald wouldn't notice what I was wearing if my clothes had mouths and were yelling at him in Japanese."

"Quite an imagination you've got there."

"Bugger off." Hermione reached over to the bowl of Floo powder on her mantle and cast a quick Incendio to light the fireplace. Before she could go anywhere, though, Draco's strong hands found her waist and turned her to face him.

"I just want to do this one more time before we have to start sneaking around the redheads," he whispered as he brought his lips to hers. After all this time, Hermione still felt chills up her spine from his touch. His lips were soft as they moved against hers, and his distinct scent flooded her senses. Her hands crept up to his pale blond locks, and he held her by the waist and kept her close. Slowly, he broke away and took the powder from her hands. "Hmm. The Burrow, yes?"

She nodded, still lightheaded from their kiss. He grinned, kissed her forehead, grabbed his bag, and Flooed over to the Weasleys'. The Gryffindor realized quickly that it was best not to leave Draco alone at the Weasleys' for too long, so she followed moments after. Thankfully, he was the only one in the living room when she got there.

He came over to her quickly, brushing soot off of her shoulder. "You can keep the sweater, by the way," he whispered, eyes shining. "Looks much better on you."

"Hermione! Is that you?" Mr. Weasley's eager voice came from the other end of the room. "Who's—Oh. Mr. Malfoy, you're Hermione's guest?"

"Yes, sir," Draco said coolly. He strode over to the older wizard, hand extended. "Thank you for having me."

Arthur only blinked in surprise, then took Draco's hand hesitantly. "Er, yes, of course. Any friend of Hermione's is a friend of ours. Excuse me, I've got to find Molly—"

He darted out of the room, only to be replaced by Charlie, who barely glanced up from the model Peruvian Vipertooth in his hands. "Hey there, Hermione. Who's your friend?"

"Hi Charlie. This is Draco Malfoy, I think you know him. He's actually my—" Before Hermione could say boyfriend, George popped into the living room.

"I thought I heard someone with a brain talking. And I see you brought a test subject for my new products!" He smirked evilly.

"Actually, George, Draco's my—"

The fireplace roared to life again, and Ginny stepped out with her suitcase in hand. "Hi there! I was hoping to beat you here. Hello, Malfoy."

"Hi, Gin. I was just trying to tell your brothers that Draco and I are—"

"Hermione Granger, there you are! And you've brought—oh, you're Malfoy, right?" Bill breezed past Draco to envelope Hermione in a tight hug. She could feel her Slytherin glaring daggers at the eldest Weasley, so she reached for Draco's hand the second Bill released her.

"Yes, everyone, and I'd just like to let you know that Draco is—"

"What in the bloody hell is he doing here?" A familiar, though extremely angry, voice wafted through the room. Even Charlie looked away from his dragon to look over at Ron, ears burning red. Harry's pale face emerged behind him, clearly shocked as well.

"Nice to see you too, Ronald—"

"Answer the question, Hermione." His voice quivered with anger. "What's that prat doing in my house?!"

"Don't talk to her like that," Draco hissed, stepping in between Ron and his mate. Hermione squeezed his hand and placed the other one on his shoulder as she moved forward.

"Ron, maybe this conversation is best had between the three of us—"

"Would you just spit it out? And why are you touching him like that? Sodding hell, first you bring a snake into my home, then you act all chummy with him. Bloody disgusting, not to mention offensive, none of us want him here—"

Hard as she tried, Hermione lost her cool. "Draco is here because I'm dating him!" she finally yelled back.

For the first time in nearly thirty years, the Burrow was dead silent.

Author's Note: So sorry for the delay! It's been so difficult to write this chapter, but I rather like how it turned out. Longest one so far!

All character names and dragons are canon—thanks to Newt Scamander for writing Fantastic Beasts! ;)

The next chapter should be out far quicker than this one. In the meantime, leave a review! Constructive criticism and opinions are always welcome.

Thanks for reading, friends!

xx entirelymyown