HPOV

I was so blindingly angry at seeing her at first, I barely processed what she said. It's only that night when I'm lying in bed and I've finally calmed myself down enough to stop seeing shades of red that I remember her words. What did she mean, distractions? She cannot know. My blood actually runs cold. If she knows, it'll be the Prophet first thing in the morning. But surely, surely she wouldn't be so stupid as to transform into that beetle and then get a scoop on me? She knows exactly what I'd do. Unless, of course, she thinks my previous threat was limited only to the one year period. Up until now, though, she has been behaving herself. She hasn't written any career-damaging or personal articles, and I assumed she took me at my word and rightly assumed it was an unlimited threat. But if Rita Skeeter has finally got over her fear of me, then I might as well call the Minister now. Oh, I would really, really enjoy prosecuting her. What could I get her for? Slander, breach of privacy, being an unregistered Animagus. How long is that in prison? Going to be a while. I fall asleep halfway through imagining getting her locked up, and my dreams are a rather confused mess of beetles and stone walls.

I shake myself awake at about nine, and decide I'd better get up. Two days until New Years Eve and the Ministry Ball. Three until I have to play hostess. Better make sure I've got some Hangover Potion, just in case I get a bit carried away at the Ball. Better get up translates into I'm going to have a read before I get up. Draco brings me a cup of tea at about half ten, and we decide it's just going to have to be a lazy day. We play board games together, watch a film and I read while he plays with Meg. If nothing else, she's spiced life up a bit. It's almost like having a baby in the house. He's trying to train her to use the kitty box instead of the cupboard under the sink. I suggest he puts her litter box under the sink, see if that helps. She's sceptical, and still insists upon going outside the box. But she seems very contrite after. I tell him that it might be the litter she's objecting to, and we'll change it tomorrow. I can't really help - Crooks was already house-trained when I brought him. He died of old age the year after Voldemort went down. It was just one more blow to me.

That evening, with nothing having appeared in either the Daily or Evening Prophet, Blaise phones to ask if he can come over before the Ball, and we could all go together. I agree to this plan perfectly happily, tell him to come over at about seven-fifteen, and then we can just leave together more or less right away. They used to have a dinner at the Ball, but now it's just cocktails and dancing, which is far nicer and much less stiff. When Draco jokingly accuses Blaise of stealing his date, I say they can both be my date. It'll be a giggle to come in with one on each arm. I finally take the phone into my own room to have a quiet word with Blaise.

"Do you remember what Rita Skeeter said, yesterday? About me having distractions?"

"Yes, I've been rather wondering about that. What did she mean?"

"I think she knows about us." He exhales sharply.

"How? We were alone up there, nobody could possibly have seen us."

"Skeeter is an unregistered Animagus. She can turn into a beetle, it's how she got all those scoops during the Triwizard Tournament."

"Well, report her." He doesn't sound overly bothered.

"I can't unless she does something now. I'd just look petty and like I was hiding something."

"You are. You're hiding us." He sounds accusatory now.

"Only because it's hardly a good time to announce a relationship at a funeral. Look, Blaise. The press is going to love it when we let them find out. You don't know how it is with them. I just want something to be just mine for once, just for a while. The backlash from this will be huge, because you're you."

"A one-time suspected Death Eater dating the Gryffindor Princess - I see what you mean."

"Look, Blaise. They'd eat you alive. They'd go for me too, and I won't go through that again."

"I told you already, I won't let them do anything like that to you. Ever. I'll protect you."

"I don't need you to protect me," I snap, and instantly regret doing so. "Sorry."

"I know you don't need me to," he says, calmly. "But it doesn't mean I'm not going to anyway."

"Thank you," I mumble. I figure he hears me, because he laughs softly.

"I promise I'll never tell anyone you said that."

"Good. Anyway. I'll see you in a couple of days?"

"What if I decide I can't wait two days to see you?" Now he's just teasing.

"You'll just have to bide your time. It'll make it all the sweeter when you do see me."

"Fine."

"Are you sulking?"

"No."

"Goodbye, Blaise. I'll see you soon."

"You better." I laugh and hang up on the pouting, go back downstairs to join Draco.

"I'm glad you've come to see that he's a good person," he says, quietly, not looking up from the toy he's dangling for Meg to bat at. "You deserve happiness." I give his head a light shove.

"I'm glad too."

"Is he going to stay after the Ball? I mean, he'll just be coming back here on New Years Day for dinner - may as well stay." I narrow my eyes at him. "I can feel the glare you've got focused on me, Granger."

"If he wants to. The sofa is always available."

"Stop beating around the tree."

"Beating around the bush, Draco, not beating around the tree."

"I don't care which item of natural growth it is, stop beating around it."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You know very well what I mean. Will he come and stay with you, as in, will he be in your bedroom?"

"Jesus Christ, Draco, we've not been together a week yet." He shrugs.

"Fred and I weren't together an hour before we had sex." I glare at him again.

"Yes," I say, tartly. "Because you and Fred were hormonal teenagers."

"True. I'm just saying, he could still stay the night."

"Can we please stop discussing this? I can't possibly say what will happen."

"So it might happen?"

"I swear, if you carry on, you're sleeping in the goddamn garden for New Year."

"You're so mean to me."

"I'm mean to everyone, it's when I'm nice you have to start worrying. Oh, and by the way, there is someone I rather want you to meet at the this Ball." it's his turn to narrow his eyes.

"Are you trying to match-make?"

"Certainly not. I just want you to met him, is all."

"Oh yes," he says, properly suspicious now. Meg has given up trying to get his attention, and is batting a ball from side to side. "And what is his name?"

"Tom."

"And who is he."

"He works in Law Enforcement. He's very handsome."

"Hermione," he says, rubbing his hands over his face and looking exasperated, "does he definitely bat for my team? Because it wouldn't be the first time I've been introduced to someone 'very handsome' who turns out to be straight. Blaise tried it at Hogwarts."

"Who with?"

"Dean Thomas." I snort tea through my nose.

"Ha!"

"Yes, yes, very funny."

"Tom is definitely gay. He's 26, couple of years on us."

"Hmm, yeah, maybe, whatever." I giggle.

"Alright. Just meet him."

"He probably doesn't want to meet me. Most people still think I'm Voldemort's best pal."

"Tom won't mind." I try and sound casual, but apparently this doesn't help me.

"He won't mind? Have you already asked him?"

"Um. No."

"Oh, sweet Merlin. You have. What kind of desperate loser is he going to think me?"

"He asked me, actually."

DPOV

She picks up a magazine, but eyeballs me over the top of it.

"You lie."

"Excuse me, but I do not."

"When did he ask you?" I demand, whipping the magazine out of her hands and sitting on it so she can't take it back. She sighs.

"While back. In between being poisoned and being abducted. Said he'd noticed you around."

"Pffft. No he didn't. Before you got abducted, I was the most hated free man in Britain."

"Not everyone hated you," she says, softly. "He believed us both. So did Andy from the lifts." I remember the man who said he didn't hate me that day. It must have been him. "And Liz from Accounting, Danny from Records, Amy from HR. Luna thought you were innocent." I refrain from pointing out that Luna Lovegood is off her rocker and also believes in Rumple-Horned Snickels or something on those lines. "So, he came to see me. Very edgy he was too. Took me ages to worm it out of him."

"What did he say?"

"Curious, are we? Well, I'm not sure I should tell you? You made it quite clear you weren't hugely interested a moment ago."

"Tell," I order, "or I'll call Blaise when you're in the bath and you can't do anything, and tell him you want him to tie you to your bed with his old school tie and do all sorts of naughty things together."

"You've put a disturbing amount of thought into that."

"Just tell me."

"Alright, alright. He asked me if you were batting for his team."

"You already knew by then?"

"It's not exactly unobvious. So, I said you were but obviously I couldn't comment, and he sort of hinted that he was interested. Said he liked the pale and brooding type."

"I'm not brooding."

"You are in repose, dearest. You don't smile much."

"I smile a lot."

"Yes, when you're thinking about stuff or talking. When you're not talking or interacting with someone, when you're just sort of being, you do look quite broody."

"Huh."

"The point is, is that he finds you attractive. And I promised I'd introduce you. But no pressure. If you don't want to meet him, you don't have to, and if you do meet him and you don't like him, you don't have to take it anywhere." I throw up my hands in semi-despair.

"Alright. Fine. You can introduce us. Now for pity's sake, what are we doing tomorrow?"

"Well, I have a hair appointment. Muggle woman, coming here, going to style me for the Ball. She's coming at three. She says she's perfectly happy to cut your hair first."

"Um."

"Don't worry. It'll be fine. I told her you'd been in an asylum for the past six years and it's been a while since you had a proper haircut."

"You told her I'd been in an asylum?" I shriek at her.

"Well, you're going to be twitchy as hell when she comes at you with scissors. Had to tell her something."

"Sweet Lord."

"She's doing my make-up too. Because I'm lazy."

"You're not going suggest she puts make-up on me?"

"No, dear. Unless, of course, you'd like to wear some."

"No, thanks. Is she also going to shave your legs and do your nails and whatever the heck else it is you girls do to beautify themselves these days?"

"She is doing my nails," Hermione says, brightly. "That's why she's coming so early. But I'm doing my own de-hairing."

"Well, don't spend hours in the bathroom. I want a bath before we go dancing too."

"Hmm, yeah, whatever."