A/N: Hello my dears, wow, it's been a while. I'm so so sorry I haven't had the chance to update in so many months. Unfortunately my health issues have been extremely disruptive in my life and I've not wanted to put out a half-hearted chapter in the hopes that it will appease my lovely readers. I will do better next time. In the meantime, please accept this next tiny chapter as an apology. I have also decided to work on some new stories on AO3, so please keep an eye out for them. all my love -BJ

Draco and Hermione arrived back at their dormitory at just after eleven. It was early, but despite her otherwise otherworldly appearance, Draco noticed the way Hermione's shoulders slumped with exhaustion and he'd caught her yawning at least three times at the dance. He kept one hand slung possessively over her shoulder, though he doubted anyone would recognise either of them: he'd made sure of that.

Hermione busied herself with taking off her shoes, and just generally fumbling around awkwardly. Draco did nothing, preferring to rest on the arm of the sofa and watch her ignore the elephant in the room. Hermione avoided his obvious perusal of her, instead draping a thick grey cardigan over her dress and reaching a shaking hand to smooth over her hair. It had begun to release itself from whatever spell she had cast, so it hung in soft curls down her back. Draco itched to run his hands through them.

"I'm fine Draco." Hermione sighed. "It's just been a very long and stressful day." She still had her back to him.

He cleared his throat expectantly. "Are you ill?" He kept his tone lilting, teasing.

Draco got up, laying a reassuring hand on her wool-covered shoulder. She leant back into him, sighing softly as he rubbed her shoulders. "I think you did marvellously."

"Really?" Hermione's voice was absentminded, but there was an honest shake of insecurity behind it.

"Indeed. Tonight was a triumph." He dipped his head, tracing his nose along the crook of her neck and up so he could whisper lowly in her ear. "I'm proud of you."

He felt her shudder with some satisfaction. "I'm sorry for getting angry. I don't know what came over me." She murmured shakily. He laid a soft kiss on her neck, smoothing his hands over her shoulders.

"Lets not think of that now." He hushed, thinking of his abandoned plan. "Are you tired?"

"A little. Why?"

"I have something I'd like to show you." Draco hoped the nervousness did not show in his voice.

Hermione turned to face him, and Draco found himself captivated by the sincere glow in her honeyed eyes. Even behind the mask, Draco could see her earnest expression. Gods, she was just so good. She blinked once, then twice.

"Do you trust me?" He murmured once more. He felt her place a small hand on his cotton covered chest, and he barely dared to look away, feeling an unfamiliar warm glow flush his cheeks.

Hermione gave a small noise of assent, barely there but still Draco heard it. Wordlessly, wandlessly, he conjured a long strip of silk fabric. "Close your eyes." He whispered. Draco saw her long lashes flutter closed, but not before a slight brow quirked in amusement.

He felt her hand leave his chest as he moved behind her and immediately missed its casual familiarity. He wrapped the thin fabric around her eyes, tying it at the temples. Unable to resist, a hand brushed her soft curls, trailing over the space where her neck met her back. He laid one, and then two soft kisses on the crook of her jaw. Hermione gave a small gasp and the part of Draco that held his masculine pride swelled.

"Not now, save your pretty little noises for another time." His breath tickled Hermione's neck and he felt her lean back gently into him. Recovering the shreds of his self restraint, he grasped Hermione's hand and led her out of the door.

Hermione shivered in the cold, the only warmth from Draco's large hand in hers. They had been walking for what had felt like hours, but she was sure was only minutes. She had felt his hands trace across her waist as he guided her down several flights of stairs, heard his teasing whispers as he told her how good she was doing. Hermione was thoroughly worked up, the tension rising from her hips and bubbling in her chest. What would he show her? Would he show her the reason for her suspicions?

After a while, they came to a halt. She felt Draco's hand leave hers and rise to untie the makeshift blindfold. The silky fabric slid away easily, and she was greeted with the sight of Draco's searching face. "We're here."

Hermione dared her eyes to leave his face, to look around, and saw only dim darkness, barely illuminated by pale moonlight. She felt her feet slip a little, righting herself quickly and trying not to blush as Draco's hands found her waist.

She then realised where they were. They stood in the the Black Lake, frozen over now for months. Draco had taken her past the grandstands, into a small cove hidden in the nook of the sloping hills that surrounded the dark castle.

Hermione saw her breath come out in surprised puffs in the cold night as Draco raised his hand. In it was a small orb of glowing white light. He rolled it around his fingers before tossing it into the air. Within seconds, the alcove had illuminated by thousands of similar pinpricks of light, floating as if weightless against the crisp air.

"You've been practicing." Hermione's mouth was wide open in surprised wonderment, almost slipping again as she spun to examine the alcove, stopped only by Draco's hands renewed at her waist. "Draco! That's amazing."

She saw another one of his rare too-wide smiles pull at his lips and felt an unusual bubble of pride in her chest. He did not reply, instead flicking his wrist in a curt flourish. His eyes never left hers as the crackle of record-player-music started up from seemingly nowhere. The dulcet croons of Edith Piaf echoed softly in the cavern and Hermione could not hold back her gasp this time as Draco pulled her close, one hand twisting to hold hers, the other on her waist.

They swayed softly in the gentle light as Draco led her to dance once more. Hermione flickered her eyes up to his, losing herself in the enchanting depths of soft grey. The jazz tinkled along the stone walls as Draco leant down slowly to rest his forehead against hers. Hermione could barely feel the cold now, feeling only the comfort of Draco's strong hands against her body.

His eyes sparkled with a charming allure she had never seen before and she dared herself to pull her eyes away from them, gaze instead falling to the thin curve of his lips. She heard his soft chuckle and flushed as his hand left hers. She could do little to breathe then, feeling only Draco's fingers tilt her chin upwards and his lips envelop hers. My, she could just stay like this forever. One perfect moment in a sea of just-okay ones. Luftmensch.

A/N: Well? What do we think? Crumbs! I give you crumbs!