Happy Leap Year!

I had one question about the Canada chapter and time zones – as far as I can tell, the time difference is about 5 hours. So, if on Saturday, they went to Canada at 12:00 noon in England, they would reach at about 7:00 am. By the time they walk into town, locate the library, and get inside, it's about 7:30 am. Finally, they exit and go for lunch at about 12:30, so when they reach back to England, it is 5:30 pm. Hopefully that makes sense!

Finally, I have been getting a lot of comments about Draco and Hermione's relationship – this is a Draco/Hermione pairing fic! If you are not comfortable reading that, I would suggest you read a different story. This is also a TEEN-Rated fic – while mature concepts are referenced, I will not be writing anything graphic or entirely inappropriate.

I request to all my reviewers to please think before leaving comments – if it is an R rated comment or discusses something inappropriate, PLEASE DO NOT COMMENT IT.

Thank you for all of my other readers and reviewers, who are incredibly kind, supportive, and encouraging! I am so thankful you all have chosen to go on this journey with me

When Hermione woke up, the first thing she noticed was that the sun was streaming through the windows.

The second thing she noticed was an arm, wrapped around her waist.

She sucked in a breath. Memories came flooding back – her dreams, the nightmares, Constantine, crying into Malfoy's shirt…asking Malfoy to stay in bed with her.

She tried to stay motionless, hoping that he would wake up and assume she was still sleeping. There was no way she was going to be able to get out of bed without waking him up.

They were fully entangled. Malfoy's arm was firmly wrapped around her waist, his other hand underneath her pillow. Her own hands were not in a good position, one resting on the arm around her midriff and the other lightly grazing against his hand. She'd curled up in her sleep, and so her knees were bent, her feet in between his calves.

He groaned softly, and she hurriedly shut her eyes.

"I know you're awake, Hermione." He mumbled in her ear. The vibration made her shiver involuntarily. "Can you please get off my arm?"

"Oh…" She whispered. "Sorry, yeah."

Contrary to what she had thought, it wasn't awkward at all. Malfoy let her go and flipped over, and she stretched and got up.

"Er – sorry about last night." Hermione started, but he just waved her off.

While he went back to sleep, Hermione showered and got dressed. She brushed her hair, and then afterward, she pulled out each strand of hair and carefully set fire to it. As an afterthought, she dug through Malfoy's side of the bathroom and did the same with his comb.

How could Constantine have gotten their hair? There was no way to apparate into Hogwarts, and Hermione was certain Malfoy Manor had similar wards.

She grabbed her bookbag and climbed back into her bed, ignoring Malfoy's snoring form. It would probably be best to write down everything she remembered from last night's dream.

As she made the notes, she tried to remember – there was something so strange about the way Constantine had talked about her master. It was Voldemort, Hermione presumed, but there was something odd…if only she could remember!

Eventually, Hermione had to give up. She'd written down every detail she could recall, but pinpointing what she felt strange about was an exercise in futility.

Besides, she was getting hungry.

She put her notes away and turned to Malfoy, who was somehow still snoring. She poked his shoulder. "Malfoy, when do you have Quidditch practice?"

"Afer…noo'" He mumbled. "Le' me sleep."

"I'm starved." Hermione complained. "You've got to get up at some point. Let's go down to the Great Hall."

"No."

Hermione poked him in the shoulder again. "Oh, come on, then! Get up!"

He stretched his arms out, purposefully hitting her in the face.

"Hey!" Hermione whined, pushing him away.

Malfoy blinked groggily. "Hey yourself. You won't let me get any sleep."

She shrugged. Malfoy glanced past her to the window, and a slow smile crept on his face.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, looking over her shoulder. When she turned back, Malfoy had already rolled over and pulled the blanket over his head. "Hey!"

"Five more minutes." He mumbled.

Hermione exaggeratedly sighed, giggling a little when he started snoring again.

It was kind of nice.

….

Eventually, Malfoy did get up. He got ready for Quidditch, and they planned to stop at the Great Hall before going to the field.

"Gryffindor table today." Hermione ordered, already walking over to her friends.

"Oi, Hermione, it's been a while!" Ron greeted her with a smile. He leaned over furtively. "Did Harry talk to you yesterday? About the – first years, and the unicorn?"

"Yes." She nodded. "Are the first-years all right?"

Ron nodded. "Madame Pomfrey says they just had a bit of a fright. Harry's all right too; he told me what you and Malfoy talked about yesterday."

At that moment, Malfoy finally chose to sit down next to her. Hermione realized that he'd been talking to someone at the Ravenclaw table a few feet away.

"Who were you talking to?" She asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Malfoy smirked. He turned his attention to Ron and gave a slight nod.

Ron nodded back, and the two fell into uncomfortable silence.

"This is the worst." Hermione complained. "Can't you two just be friends?"

Two pairs of eyes turned to her incredulously.

"Friends – with that?" Ron asked.

"It's beneath me." Malfoy shrugged.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know, you're more similar than you are different."

"I'm sure you're right." Malfoy replied dismissively.

"It's true! Let's see…you both like Quidditch, you're both purebloods, you both love your mums, you both –"

Ron interrupted her. "Hermione, I love you terribly, but you're just listing traits that almost every wizard our age has."

"I hate to say it, but the Weasel's right." Malfoy nodded.

"Aha!" Hermione said quickly, hoping Ron didn't catch Malfoy's insult. "You both agree that I'm not making a good case."

"Oh boy." Ron sighed. He grabbed his toast and went to stand. "She's all yours, Malfoy. I've got to catch up with Lavender anyway. I'll see you later, Hermione."

"That was a civil comment!" Hermione called after him.

Malfoy shook his head. "You're a loon. Now, hurry and finish your breakfast. I don't want to be late to practice."

"I will if you promise to stop calling Ron names." Hermione told him. "Can't you at least try to be civil?"

"I'm fairly certain we've already had this exact conversation." Malfoy replied. "How well did it work out for you last time?"

Hermione huffed at him. "You're awfully chipper for someone in our situation."

He shrugged. "I'm going to enjoy my day for as long as possible. I know right after Quidditch you're going to drag me to Dumbledore's office."

"Well, what else do you propose? We've no idea what your cousin is planning and from what we do know, she's got a huge advantage over us." Hermione pointed out. "The best plan I can think of is to tell Dumbledore – he's got to know something about the spells."

Malfoy frowned. "I can't imagine he's got too much knowledge in the dark arts."

"He may surprise you." Hermione persisted. "What would you suggest instead?"

Malfoy sighed heavily. He glanced at the ceiling, which displayed a bright, sunny Sunday morning. "I suppose he's our best option, but…I just…what about Professor Snape?"

"What?" Hermione asked, taken aback. "What about Professor Snape?"

"Well, he's got a fair background in the dark arts, and I know he's very discreet. Perhaps we could ask him to look into it?" Malfoy explained. "All we really need to know is what that bint is planning."

Hermione hummed, graciously ignoring his callous language. "I don't know…Snape is very loyal to Professor Dumbledore. He might tell him anyway, and then we'll have to deal with the secret getting out in a way that we didn't plan. We don't want to cause mass chaos, after all."

"Do you really think Dumbledore would panic?" Malfoy asked curiously.

Hermione curled her lip thoughtfully. "I – I really don't know. I don't think he would, but if Professor Snape decides to tell the headmaster, then he might also tell Professor McGonagall, or Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt. After all the trouble Cornelius Fudge caused by keeping Voldemort's return a huge secret, Shacklebolt might just decide to inform the people."

Malfoy put his head in his hands and groaned. "You've just destroyed my good mood."

"Sorry." Hermione mumbled. She wanted to mimic Malfoy, except that she knew it would catch a lot of attention if they both looked devastated. "You know, for a lot of the earlier years, Harry, Ron, and I didn't know what Voldemort was up to, either. We just dealt with the threats as they came along."

Malfoy shuddered slightly as she said 'Voldemort'. Oops.

"So what are you saying?" He asked. "We should just act as though nothing is happening?"

"I'm saying we should go to Quidditch practice." Hermione told him. "Let's not make any decisions yet."

He nodded at that advice. "All right, I suppose I could handle that."

As they turned back to their breakfast, Hermione glanced at the front of the room, to the teachers' table.

To her surprise, Professor Trelawney was sitting there today.

Staring directly at her.