Author's Note: We're gearing up for the big reveal of who done it! I'm not sure how many chapters it will take, but it can't be too many more. Thank you, as usual, for all the follows and favorites and reviews.

Chapter 26

"Flipendo," Hermione said.

Blue light jetted from her wand. Draco ducked.

"Locomotor Wibbly," he shot back.

Hermione wordlessly threw up a shield to block the jinx.

"You'll have to do better than that," she said.

Draco held his wand before him and eyed her warily.

"You really think this is a fair match-up?" he asked. "I didn't have a wand for nearly a year. Remember?"

Shrugging, Hermione stepped casually to the right.

"Your attacker won't care. Titillando."

The hex hit Draco's shoulder, and he collapsed in a heap, clutching his stomach.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it!" he gasped between fits of giggles.

Hermione sighed. Finite Incantatem, she thought.

As the tension melted from his body, Draco sprawled across the stone floor. Hermione had insisted on dueling practice, and could think of no better place than the Room of Requirement, especially since Draco already knew about it—but neither mentioned this fact. The Room had miraculously survived the fiendfyre, or at least the D.A. practice room had. The room holding the vanishing cabinet seemed incapable of reappearing.

"You're lucky I went so easy on you," she said, holding out a hand to help him up. "I said the spells aloud so you'd know what was coming, and I didn't use anything worse than a tickling hex. I doubt the attacker will be so kind."

Draco stumbled to his feet and brushed off his pants. "We already know they can't do non-verbal magic."

"Unless there is another person involved, or they learn."

He rolled his eyes.

"How are you not taking this more seriously?" Hermione asked, her voice echoing across the arched ceiling.

"It was bound to happen eventually."

"Would you stop that?" she snapped.

Draco stood a little straighter, narrowing his eyes at her. "I'm not the idiot who nearly got herself killed for no good reason."

"No good reason?" Hermione huffed. "How about saving us from being blown to bits by a crazy person?"

"They weren't after you!"

"So we should serve you up on a platter for their hexing enjoyment?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but the chimes of a clock sounded through room.

"It's time for dinner," Hermione said when the last bell sounded.

Neither moved to leave.

By silent mutual agreement, they had avoided the great hall whenever possible since their outing and attack the previous week. They ate early to skip crowds, and when that failed they visited the kitchens where the house elves seemed relieved that Hermione wanted only to eat, not fling clothes at them in an attempt at emancipation.

"We should practice for a bit longer," said Hermione. "We can find something to eat later."

Draco rolled his eyes. "There's that Gryffindor courage."

"Excuse me?" she said, whipping her wand around to point at him. "I don't see you volunteering to parade in front of the student body."

"I'm a Slytherin. Self-preservation and all that," he said. "Isn't that in Hogwarts: A History somewhere?"

Hermione straightened her posture. "For your information, Hogwarts: A History stressed the ambition and cunning of those sorted into Slytherin house—it exemplified the positive attributes that Slytherins such as Merlin possessed."

Stepping closer, Draco leaned near her ear. "Oh, I can be very cunning."

Her derisive laugh garbled when his mouth brushed along her neck, ghosting over her earlobe—that snake knew exactly what he was doing.

"Draco," she said, a little more breathlessly than she had hoped.

"Want me to stop?" he whispered.

She crumpled the front of his shirt in her fist. "Like this is all for me."

"I'll take that as a no."

As his lips worked downward, across her collarbone and towards the dip of her v-neck sweater, neither heard the door open.

"For the love of Merlin," a voice groaned. "It's worse than Harry said."

Hermione stumbled away from Draco, turning her head to find Ginny by the doorway, arms crossed and looking ready to fling her best bat-bogey hex at any moment.

"Fucking hell, Weasley," Draco said, running a hand through his hair.

"Fucking hell?" repeated Ginny with a scowl. "I should be the one saying fucking hell, you ferret!"

"Says the voyeur," he shot back. "Here to see just how inadequate Potter is?"

Before Ginny could respond, Hermione placed her body between them.

"Are you two quite done?" she snapped.

"I'm not the one stalking people into what is supposed to be a bloody secret room," said Draco, leaning around Hermione to glare at the redhead. "Why the hell did it let her in?"

"Luna told me you'd be in the D.A. practice room," Ginny said. "You shouldn't be telling people where to find you if you can't keep it in your pants."

"We weren't—it wasn't…" Hermione faltered.

Draco snaked his arms around her from behind. "You don't need to make the Weaslette feel better about her pitiful sex life, love."

Ginny shot him a loathing look. "Are you done defiling my friend? I need to talk with her."

"Of course I can talk," Hermione said, shoving Draco's arms off of her.

Draco stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. "Who's going to terrorize the house elves in the kitchens if you don't go with me?"

"Stay here until I'm done," said Hermione, giving him a stern look. "You know you shouldn't be wandering the halls alone."

"I'm on patrol tonight," he said. "I'll have to wander the halls soon enough."

Hermione couldn't stop from glowering at him. She had insisted that they ask McGonagall to recuse him from patrol duties, and he had refused.

"Now you're stalling," she said before turning on her heel and following Ginny through the door.

"Fine!" he called out. "But don't blame me when you find my emaciated corpse."

As the door disappeared behind them, Ginny slumped against the corridor wall.

"I can see why you're with him," she said sharply. "Annoying and prejudiced. What a winning combination."

Hermione sighed and crossed her arms. Ginny wouldn't be able to move on until she got the anger out of her system. If that meant some insults, Hermione could take it in order to get her friend to accept her boyfriend.

"Gin, he's only like that as a front. If you knew him—"

"You're right," Ginny said. "He's not the problem."

Hermione stared for a moment. "He's not?"

Ginny scoffed and threw her hands in the air.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, "But I don't—"

"You didn't tell me!" shouted Ginny.

Now Hermione understood. She felt a wave of relief: she could handle this.

"I was going to before Potions, before everyone found out."

"Everyone like Harry and Ron?" Ginny shot back.

Hermione scowled at the memory. "Ron was not supposed to visit on Christmas, and if he hadn't been a total prat, he wouldn't have known either."

At this, Ginny's frown lessened a little.

"Is that why you put him in a body-bind?" she asked.

Hermione kicked at the ground with her toe. "He was in the body-bind when I told him. He had just told me that I didn't need to pretend to have a nameless boyfriend to feel better about him dating Parvati."

A laugh escaped from Ginny's mouth.

"Oh, Merlin," she grinned while still managing to look a bit peeved. "You wouldn't mind recreating that moment, would you?"

"You're not the first to ask," Hermione said. She paused before continuing. "I really am sorry. I was going to tell you before all of this happened."

Ginny stared hard at her before looking away and shrugging. "I guess I can't blame you."

"You can't?" asked Hermione, surprised.

"It's not your fault that Ron is a wanker and that Luna is weirdly perceptive."

"Thanks, Gin," Hermione smiled.

Ginny's lips twitched upwards in a devilish smirk. "It's not like I can't see the appeal, either," she said. "Reformed, hottie bad boy and all that."

"Hottie bad boy?" Hermione scoffed. "Better not repeat that to him, or his ego might explode—and does Harry know that you have a thing for Slytherins?"

"Harry was almost placed there, you know. If he hasn't figured it out, that's not on me."

Hermione rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall next to her friend.

"As happy as I am that we've made up, I am a little curious as to why you sought me out," Hermione said. "You've been avoiding me all week."

"I guess hearing about your friend being attacked can change your perception."

"That was a week ago," Hermione pointed out.

"There may have been twenty or so hours of reducto-ing things in there as well."

Hermione grinned. There may have been an attacker on the loose trying to kill her boyfriend, but at least she had Ginny back.

"So, what are you going to do?" asked Ginny.

"About what?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You know, the person trying to punish your beloved for his past misdeeds."

Hermione's smile faded. "I don't know. Bubblewrap him?"

"I don't know what bubblewrap is, but that doesn't sound like much of a plan," said Ginny.

"It's not," Hermione sighed.

"Well," Ginny said, looping her arm through her friend's, "We'd better change that."