That's right! I'm not dead! Just horribly, horribly behind on this story, haha. But, if everything goes according to plan, there are only two more chapters after this one. Sorry if this one seems a bit rushed; it's more of a transition to the last two. I hope you all enjoy regardless!

Chapter XXI

At precisely nine fifty-three, Hermione stepped in front of the Great Hall's doorways, fastening the last button on her cloak. Even though she'd sat for thirty minutes in the common room in a desperate attempt not to be early, her natural punctuality outweighed her nervousness. So, instead of wringing her hands and nibbling her lower lip in peace and quiet, she was doing so in front of the passing late-risers.

"Hermione!" She turned a bit too sharply at the sound of her name. There, down the corridor, was Susan, beaming as she made her way towards her. Hermione smiled self-consciously and greeted her friend when she arrived by her side. "Aren't you excited?" Susan asked. "I've actually been looking forward to this trip all week."

"St. Mungo's?" It dawned on Hermione just then that Malfoy had never said they were going alone. So Susan and Blaise were to come with them on their observation. Frankly, she didn't know if she was disappointed or elated, but she smiled at Susan regardless. "I've never been to a magical hospital before," she admitted. "I'm rather looking forward to it, as well."

They chatted together until Susan pointed out Blaise and Malfoy making their way towards them.

And, for the life of her, Hermione had no idea why her stomach dropped the way it did.

Draco, on the other hand, was intimately familiar with the routine his own stomach performed. After all, it had been practicing since the beginning of the year. Back handspring, cartwheel, round off, into a back flip, into an aerial . . . he gulped and tried to forget about it, even though it was making him quite dizzy. He'd begged Blaise to ask Susan to come along with him and Granger right after he'd planned the trip. Why? He didn't know the answer himself.

But he knew one thing — he was not afraid of being alone with her.

That was just Blaise's opinion.

"What do you suppose they'll show us?" Draco's mate wondered aloud.

He was busy concentrating on taking one calming breath at a time, so he answered simply. "Dunno." Exhale. Now inhale. Good, excellent.

"Good morning Blaise, Draco," said Susan. Beside her, Granger smiled and repeated the sentiment, though a bit quieter. "Are you ready to go?"

He absently nodded, and while Blaise and Susan started off cheerily towards the exit, he lingered just a second longer at the Great Hall entrance with Granger.

"Did you —" he began in a rush, but his thought promptly disappeared, and he finished with a lame, "— finish your homework last night?"

He couldn't tell if she was puzzled or amused, but she answered, "Yes. I, er, finished the Defence Against the Dark Arts essay, as well." After a momentary pause, they simultaneously started towards the exit in silence.

Hermione tried her mightiest to appear calm. He'd asked Blaise and Susan to come with them, but why? Did he not want to be alone with her? And why on earth had he asked her about her homework?

(She didn't know that Draco was already kicking himself for that.)

"Are you two coming?" Blaise called over his shoulder. It was enough to bring them both back into reality, and they quickened their pace towards the exit, where the four of them proceeded trotted outside into the chilled November air. Nervously, Hermione watched her breath cloud around her in short bursts. It hadn't snowed yet, leaving the ground hard and the wind biting.

"Chilly, isn't it?" remarked her partner. She glanced at him and noted with some trepidation that Blaise and Susan had now fallen very far behind them, talking excitedly together.

"Did . . . did you have anything to do with that?" she asked, tipping her head back to point out the other pair.

"Who me?" She rolled her eyes, and he grinned at her. "Why, of course not."

"Oh, stuff it," she grumbled, but Hermione couldn't help but smile back, their eyes meeting just long enough to make her blush.

Draco's heart nearly exploded when he saw it — those brilliant eyes dazzling him with their eagerness, their vivacity. Why? If she hated him so much — down to his very fingernails even — why would she smile at him like that? Like he was the only person that mattered to her?

Draco decided something just then:

She was absolutely maddening.

He would've hexed himself, but he was afraid St. Mungo's would commit him as soon as he stepped in the door.

Hogsmede was just around the corner, though, so he gathered his wits and paused to wait for the lagging couple, Granger stopping just at his side. They didn't speak, but he didn't feel uncomfortable with her, which was enough to make him feel incredibly uncomfortable.

"Do you think the trip will take long?" she asked him.

"Dunno." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and tried not to look at her.

They were to floo to St. Mungo's from one of the shops in Hogsmede directly to the hospital, and the trip brought them safe and sound right in the main hall. The reception room was a shimmering white, with a ceiling that must have been fifty feet high. Hermione silently marvelled at the sight as the group of them made their way to the front desk.

"We're students from Hogwarts," Malfoy announced without hesitation, "here for a tour."

The receptionist, a cheery redhead, smiled brightly at the four. "Ah, yes, this way. Mediwitch Crawfield will show you through St. Mungo's." She stepped quickly from the desk to a nearby corridor, leading them as she hummed "Charming You." Blaise and Susan were side by side, forcing Hermione and Malfoy to follow in suit.

"Mediwitch Crawfield is just through here." She opened the office door for the four of them and waved before taking her leave. The room was cramped, with books shoved on shelves, stacked on the desk, and even spilling onto the floor. The four stood in a nervous clump, waiting patiently for Crawfield to reveal herself.

"Is that you four?" A head poked out from the mound of papers on the desk chair. "I'm Mediwitch Crawfield, pleased to meet you." Hermione started to reply, but was immediately cut off. "We've got a lot of ground to cover. No time for explanations, hurry up." She shoved them out of her office, all the time talking about what they would see and do. Unfortunately, it was too much. Hermione could hardly keep up with the woman's furious speaking rate. She exchanged a sympathetic look with Draco, who in turn mouthed Merlin and rolled his eyes.

However, despite Crawfield, the tour was interesting, but what was even more intriguing was the ease with which Blaise and Susan got along. Hermione was astounded. Only earlier that very week, Hermione had been convinced of the hopelessness of the match, yet all of her confidence had now returned full-force. She couldn't help but smile at Blaise's awkward gallantry. Susan, as she had expected, still fancied the boy immensely, and their acquaintance had hardly been hindered. It seems that Malfoy had actually taken her words to heart — however cruel she may have been.

Speaking of which, she had noticed that the blond was also acting much differently. Although a bit less confrontational than usual, she was amazed at his willingness to help her. Indeed, Malfoy barely left her side, offering to hold her things, pointing out basic that she wouldn't have understood because of her muggle upbringing. Otherwise, he remained silent, hovering just over her shoulder as if waiting to be called on.

"Are you tired, Malfoy?"

Draco nearly leapt out of his socks at the sound of her voice. After glancing around the corridor to see if they would be overheard, he whispered, "No. Why?"

"You, er, haven't spoken much. Or at all, really. It's not really . . . very you."

Startled, he tipped his head. She was concerned? For him? Imagine that. His chest began to brim with a warm bubbling feeling—the kind you have when you arrive at home, very late, and even though you're tired, you're in such good company that you stay awake as long as you can. He smirked, but he couldn't hide that warmth in his eyes. "Why Granger, have me figured out already, do you?"

"Not quite," she returned.

And she gave him that smile again.

Merlin.

Time flew for him, those hours with her felt like seconds, and they were already walking back to Hogwarts before Draco had fully recovered. He didn't want to leave her, he didn't, but he had to, and they parted ways with a hidden but mutual agenda to see each other again very soon.

Hermione plodded back into the Gryffindor tower feeling very warm and content, like a cat that had just finished a nap stretched in the sun. She only wanted to read a book until dinner to clear her thoughts.

"How was it?"

She snapped her head towards the couches, where Harry, Ron, and Ginny sat, almost accusingly. Well, not really, although she did suddenly feel that she was being interrogated. Was her face flushing? "Oh, the field trip?" she asked naively.

"No, the Quidditch match you just played," Ginny said sarcastically. "Of course the field trip!" Harry and Ron sniggered as Hermione glared at them.

"It went well. I thought it was very interesting how —"

"And Malfoy?" Ron interrupted. "Do I get to kill him?"

For a moment, Hermione didn't know what to say. "Er . . . no, of course not. He was . . ." — how could she put it? — "he was nice."

That solitary admittance caused all three of her friends to freeze.

"Nice?" Harry finally asked.

"For Malfoy," she amended to comfort them. "In any case, I have a bit more homework to do, so I'm going to go upstairs." They watched her walk upstairs, but she pretended to ignore them, focusing more on which book she'd pick up.

After finding First Impressions in her trunk, she climbed into her bed and drew the curtains around her. Hermione cracked open the book and began to think about Malfoy.

She really couldn't help it. He'd never left her mind, not during the hospital tour, and certainly not when she was being grilled by her friends. He'd been away from her for maybe fifteen minutes now . . . and she missed him. She wanted to see him more. She wanted to laugh with him, to spend time with him, and study together, and — and —

If any of the other girls had been in the room, they would have heard her gasp in horror.

No. It couldn't be true. There was no way.

Well, fine, she'd allow (albeit grudgingly) that she respected him now. She thought him even perversely courageous for admitting his mistakes, and going as far to correct them. Possibly she even admired him, just a bit.

But there was no way, in heaven or in hell, that she fancied him.

As soon as she thought the word, her heart skipped, and even let out a tiny whoop.

"Bugger," she moaned before burying her head in her pillow. She did fancy him. Like a lot. No, she hadn't meant to, not at all. It had just sort of . . . happened. Stubbornly, she tried to recall what had caused her so much hatred in the first place, but for every bad memory she summoned from the past, a new, fresh memory overshadowed it completely. She could even feel herself grinning.

"Wait 'til Harry and Ron find out," she groaned to herself. Inwardly, Hermione thanked Merlin then and there that her two best friends were twice as thick as posts, and she quickly continued to read, troubled about what the next week would bring.

Yup, and she's in love too. Now how will all of this become resolved? Wait and see! :D