It was just Hermione's luck that Valentine's Day fell on a Hogsmeade weekend. It was also the same weekend as the Gryffindor Quidditch Match against Ravenclaw. In the past, she'd never been a fan of the brutal sport, but now her brother and her intended were on a crash course literally—to play each other in the Quidditch Final sometime later in the spring.

Draco being whom he was? Was training his team relentlessly, while Harry seemed to be working just as hard—but with far less intensity.

Intense...

There was the cognizant word of her life the past month.

Everything with Draco was intense...

He was as much of a perfectionist as she ever was, but he also found time to pull her into random broom closets for a bit of a snog here and there. He said it was because he'd often see her getting overworked, or overstressed—and it helped to unruffle her prickly demeanor.

They were still working with Severus twice a week on their combined mind Magic's. They talked most times telepathically from across the Great Hall and at night before lights out. Hermione had come to discover that Draco's biting wit and ability to rile her up wasn't as irritating now that most of the sting had been taken out of their everyday interactions. Oh...he still enjoyed poking and pushing her buttons—but now it was primarily just to see her blush or get flustered when he'd say something saucy...

But what amazed her was how easy it had been this past month to spend time with him and how much she enjoyed doing so.

He always kept her on her toes...challenged her and made her want to strangle him in equal measure.

Her Grandmother had written recently to let her know that the betrothal contract negotiations were moving along at the pace of a flobberworm. Apparently, Lucius Malfoy's nature at playing his little mind games was nothing in comparison to how her Grandmother parlayed his volleys. Why just yesterday morning Draco had received a letter from his Father that had left him scowling all day.

When she'd asked him about it, he'd just scoffed and said that his Father had a streak of Gryffindor stubbornness when it came to negotiations and left it at that but for Hermione, she couldn't help but wonder what kinds of things would be negotiable in such contracts.

So that was how she found herself accosting Daphne after the Quidditch Match (which Gryffindor had won) as they walked back from the pitch to the castle.

"Daphne?"

"Yes?"

"Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

The blonde witch side-eyed her curiously, but nodded nonetheless.

"What's this about?"

"Betrothal contracts. My Grandmother told me a bit about how that works over the summer, but Draco nearly bit my head off yesterday morning when I asked him about it...he didn't seem too happy."

"I see."

"He mentioned something about Lucius being stubborn...but I imagine my Grandmother can be just as mulish."

"Oh, Muriel Prewett has quite the reputation for being obstinate."

"Lovely."

Both girls smiled, then Daphne asked, "What specifically did you wish to know?"

"Well, explain to me about the customary token of good will?"

"That's a pretty straight forward one actually," Daphne mused, "usually, the family of the wizard...Draco in this case...would offer a token of good will as a preamble to the accepting of the betrothal. The token is based upon what the wizards Family feel the value of the witch in question brings to their line."

Hermione's eyebrows lifted in disgust.

"That's a bit barbaric," Hermione groused out unhappily, "like how many horses or camels I'm worth?"

"What?"

"Never mind," Hermione mumbled as she noticed Daphne giving her a rather strange look. "So token?"

"Yes," the blond witch demurred as they entered the castle together, "tokens are not something taken lightly, but usually carry a familial significance. For example...my Father's family offered a coral tree as a token for my mother."

Hermione's eyes widened. "They're extremely rare."

"They are. Both of my Grandfathers are Herbology buffs, and the Greengrass Family has one of the rarest collection of plant species growing in our magical greenhouses at our estate."

Biting her lip in contemplation, Hermione couldn't even imagine Lucius Malfoy parting with anything of value for her, especially based upon their antagonistic history.

Daphne, noticing her new friends abject look of disgust, smiled.

"Hermione, your Father-in-Law to be is not a stupid wizard. The entirety of the Sacred 28 knows or suspects of your powers. The man will be hard pressed to not only find something of worth for you joining his family, but something that wouldn't offend your Grandmother nor yourself in the process."

"Do families negotiate the token of good will?"

"Oh no," Daphne smirked wickedly, "that one is all on Lord Malfoy."

"Okay," Hermione's body shivered at the unwelcome thought but decided to forge ahead. "The Gift of Fidelity?"

Daphne's eyes darted around making sure no one heard the question as she pulled Hermione into an empty classroom and shut the door.

"That is a very personal thing between a wizard and his betrothed. In some cases a wizard may give a witch jewelry, but that fell out of favor over a century ago. No one ever speaks of the gift..."

"What do you mean?"

"It's something that is considered sacred." Daphne clarified lowly. "I asked my Mother once, about it two years ago after I had read likely the same book your Grandmother gave to you—and all she told me was that the giving and receiving of the Gift of Fidelity is such an intensely personal moment between the wizard and his chosen witch that to speak of it...in a sense, cheapens the meaning behind the gift."

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "You know, there are times that I wonder what my life would've been like had I grown up with my magical parents. I feel in times such as this, that I've missed out on so much."

Daphne took her hand and gave it a sympathetic squeeze.

"I can't imagine how hard this has been for you Hermione, but I'm happy to answer any questions I can?"

"I appreciate that."

Both girls smiled together, and as they left the room Daphne inquired, "So Valentine's Day? You and Draco have plans?"

"Brewing most likely," Hermione grinned. "I abhor the holiday, always have really. Draco doesn't seem to be any more enamoured of it than I am—thankfully."

"Most witches love it."

"I'm not most witches."

"No you're not, and that's a good thing." Daphne giggled, "I'm sure Draco appreciates it. He does have a bit of a romantic side when he wants to employ it, but he's fairly reserved. Gets that from Lucius."

"And Narcissa?"

"She adores her son, loves him more than anything," Daphne replied easily, "and there isn't anything she wouldn't do for him too. I probably shouldn't tell you this, but Draco had a baby sister...Aurora, who died from crib death when Draco was nearly five. It devastated him, and he didn't come out of his sister's room for a month. Cried for her too, for nearly as long."

"How do you know this."

"It's one of my first memories, actually." Daphne frowned sadly. "I clearly recollect my mother talking to her mother about it. Theo's Mum died around the same time too, and I just remember my smiling friends didn't smile all that much after that. It's why Draco is so fiercely protective of things and people he truly cares about. It's also why he doesn't let too many people in."

"He's afraid to lose them?"

Daphne nodded and Hermione could see the pain in the other witch's expression.

"Thank you for telling me," Hermione's voice was soft, "I will keep it between us."

"I know you will."

The Gryffindor witch watched the other girl walk off towards the dungeons with a heavy heart.

For all she thought she knew about Draco, Hermione realized that there was still so much she needed to learn. But at least his behaviors made a bit more sense to her now, and try as she might—her curiosity was peaked about the Gift of Fidelity.

She couldn't help but imagine what Draco might share with her that he'd consider so special and sacred that he'd only want to give that to her...and her alone...