A massive thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter! I feel like we have a few new readers too, welcome!

Much love to my wonderful editor, as always! Thank you for everything you do! I'm so grateful.

Days passed after the Halloween Ball, and it dominated Hermione's thoughts just as much as it had when Minerva had first announced it. Or, one aspect of the Ball in particular.

Her mind kept circling it. The sound of his voice when he'd asked her. The feeling of his skin beneath her fingertips when she'd grabbed him by the throat.

It had been totally exhilarating. She didn't regret it. She was an adult woman, and she wouldn't feel ashamed of dancing with someone she enjoyed spending time with.

So why did she feel so… unsettled? Was it the way he'd quirked an eyebrow when she'd named the dance? Was she worried, deep down, that he'd thought the choice of dance was inappropriate? That he had disapproved?

No. Lucius Malfoy wouldn't have said yes if he hadn't wanted to.

Her mind, so committed to solving problems, just wouldn't leave it alone. Finally, she figured it out.

She was embarrassed. Not because she'd danced with him, or spent time with him. She was embarrassed by how vulnerable she had allowed herself to become that night. Lucius Malfoy had shown real capacity for kindness towards her, and she enjoyed spending time with him very much, but when she'd danced with him, she'd lost herself.

That frightened her. Hermione rarely did anything without being in control. It wasn't his fault. Far from it. But she'd been reckless, and that was inexcusable. In that moment, she'd been vulnerable to him. Hermione wasn't vulnerable to anyone. She had been totally unaware, totally uncaring, totally lost in… joy. That couldn't happen again.

There was nothing wrong with enjoying Lucius' company. She believed that he was no longer the same man who had supported Voldemort. But that was no excuse not to be professional. She didn't want people to get the wrong idea, him least of all.

When they saw one another, Lucius showed no sign that he was facing the same problems that she was. He would give her the same nod as always, accompanied by a smooth, 'Professor Granger' if students were present, or 'Hermione' if they weren't. Maybe she was overthinking things. It was a common problem of hers.

Hermione turned over in her bed. Her feet were icy cold, reminding her that once again, she was alone. She threw a hand over her eyes and sighed angrily.

Where the hell was Crookshanks?

"Professor Granger." Professor Sinistra began gently. "Are you unwell?"

"No." Hermione said. Her tone was a little sharp, and Sinistra gave her a penetrating look.

Hermione and the Astrology Professor were in Hermione's Charms room, preparing for a dual lesson on the effect of various planetary bodies on Charms. Because of the more cerebral nature of Sinistra's field, it was going to be a lecture. They were trying to figure out how they were supposed to stop the students from falling asleep by making it as engaging as possible.

It would be more accurate to say that Sinistra was trying. Hermione couldn't focus. She dipped her quill in its inkwell every now and again, but that was all. She couldn't write a word.

"I don't mean to pry, but we have been here for half an hour now. You have suggested nothing, and everything I suggest, you reject. It is not like you to be so…"

Hermione grimaced. "Close-minded, irritable, and rude?"

"I wouldn't have used those words…" Sinistra said. "But yes. Is something the matter?"

"I'm sorry, Sinistra. It's Crookshanks."

"Crookshanks?"

"My cat. I haven't seen him for days."

Sinistra finally put down her notes. "I see. You are worried about him."

Hermione was very worried, actually. Like many cats, Crookshanks liked to roam, but this was abnormal. He always slept with her at nights, and for him not to come for his meals was… well, it was unprecedented.

She knew that bringing him to Hogwarts had been a huge change. But he really had seemed totally fine after the first day or two after the move. Being part Kneazle, he was a bit more adaptable than an ordinary cat.

Sinistra took this silence as an affirmative. "I think the solution to your problem is quite obvious." When she saw she had Hermione's attention, she went on. "Our Headmistress has a cat animagus. Why not ask her to help you find him?"

The idea had honestly never occurred to her. "McGonagall? She's far too busy to help me with something like this."

"In that case, why not ask Hagrid or Wilhemina? They both know a great deal about animals of all kinds."

Hermione gave it some thought. Hagrid would not be her first choice. He was a dear, sweet man, and if Crookshanks were only a Kneazle, she was sure that Hagrid would do a wonderful job of finding him. Unfortunately. Crookshanks was also part cat, and that meant that the massive groundskeeper would probably only frighten him off. Hagrid was intimidating to look at, and his footsteps were very, very loud.

Wilhelmina, though…. She had a genuine, powerful love of animals, and she and Hermione had become good friends. She was also the sort of person who Hermione felt she could rely on in a crisis. Hermione felt a hope kindle inside her that she hadn't felt for days.

"Thanks Sinistra, that's a really good idea."

Hermione took the first opportunity she saw to broach the subject. Unfortunately, this opportunity didn't come as soon as she'd hoped.

Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank, she learned, could be a difficult woman to find. Their schedules conflicted and speaking to her before or after class was simply impossible. She spent most of her free time caring for animals, and not only the ones she used in her class. The Care of Magical Creatures Professor was always in high demand, it seemed. Someone always had a familiar who needed her attention.

On the rare occasions where Hermione was able to find out that she wasn't taking care of the various sprained ankles and unsettled stomachs of the familiars of Hogwarts, she would be busy helping Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest. No matter where she looked, infuriatingly, Hermione always seemed to just miss her.

In the end, Hermione ended up approaching her in the one place she felt relatively confident that they would both be at the same time; the Head Club.

Wilhelmina was sitting in her favourite place; the overstuffed armchair by the fire. Tiberius and Lucius were there, of course, but she paid them less notice than she normally would. It had been almost a week since she'd last seen Crookshanks and she was nearly frantic, so she got right to it.

"Wilhemina, I need your help with something."

"What do you need?" Wilhelmina asked simply, and Hermione felt a rush of gratitude.

"It's Crookshanks. He sleeps with me every night but I haven't seen him at all, recently. He doesn't even come for breakfast, which really isn't like him."

There was a pregnant silence. Across the room, Tiberius sent Lucius a thrilled, scandalised look which Lucius returned with scowl, and a shake of his head.

Meanwhile, Wilhelmina assessed Hermione with a very wise expression. The Care of Magical Creatures Professor seemed to be reevaluating her opinion of her, though to what end, Hermione had no idea.

Just when Hermione was about to prod her, Wilhelmina said, "Hermione, if you're having boy trouble, I would be happy to help, but I'd rather not do it with the men present. No sense giving away all of our secrets, is there?"

Hermione realised, and was mortified.

"Crookshanks is my cat." She explained.

A chorus of 'ohhh's' went through the room. Tiberius looked quite disappointed. Lucius was harder to read, but for a moment, she saw a flash of something across his face. Had he been hoping to discover who had given her the Fairy robes? She wouldn't be surprised.

Teachers, she was beginning to learn, were shameless gossips.

Wilhelmina alone didn't seem to care. "Ah, I see. Well, if it's a male of the feline variety you're after, I have just the thing. Do you have any of his hair?"

"Oh, yes." Hermione probably had a small mountain of it on her blankets alone.

"I have a tracking charm that will do just the trick. Give me a pinch or two of his hair, and I'll find your cat for you."

Hermione was so thrilled at this that she could barely speak. At this point, she was beyond something so simple as merely missing him. All she wanted was to know that Crookshanks was alright.

"Forgive me," Lucius said, speaking for the first time since Hermione had come into the room, "But from what I understand of cats, they often like to roam. Perhaps he has simply found himself a companion, or some new hunting spot. There may not be any cause for alarm."

"No." Hermione said, surprised by how vehement she sounded. "No, I'm sorry, but you don't understand. I know that most witches and wizards aren't especially close with their familiars, but I really care about Crookshanks. He's more like… a pet." She said, not knowing how much that would mean to Lucius. "He's my responsibility. I have to take care of him."

This, Lucius seemed to understand.

"And besides," She added. "He's a little too old for that sort of thing, anyway."

This made Lucius a little cross, but he still replied, "Very well. I will join the search. Tiberius, I assume you will as well?"

Startled, but very pleased, Hermione asked before Tiberius had the chance to answer, "You will?"

"Another pair of eyes cannot hurt. We will follow your direction."

"Quite right, old boy!" Tiberius exclaimed. "I have made a study of the habits of many predators, including Kneazles. They often feel secure in high places, in which case, Lucius and I may be of service. Rest assured, we will return your… what did you call him? Your pet."

Hermione looked round at each of them. They seemed totally sincere. Wilhemina and all her steady competence. Tiberius crackling with energy but trying to appear stern. Lucius, calm and emitting an icy determination. He looked more like he was facing the prospect of battle than rescuing a grumpy old cat.

It was as this moment that Hermione realised how truly, incredibly lucky she was. How lucky she had always been. Even at the worst times of her life, she had always been blessed with people who would do anything to help her. It seemed that the good times would be no different.

Really grateful, if a little bemused, Hermione asked, "When can we start?"

It turned out, Wilhelmina and the men were ready and willing to start immediately.

This was something of an embarrassment, because the three of them insisted on following her to her rooms right away, before she'd had a chance to clean up. Hermione was meticulously organised by nature, but she was also an inventor, and sometimes she forgot to tidy as she went. She also refused to let the castle Elves clean her room, which didn't help.

This meant her desk was strewn with research materials and binders full to the brim with notes. Luckily for her, it was this exact messiness that made it very easy to find a bit of cat hair and give it to Grubbly-Plank.

"Do you wear glasses?" Grubbly-Plank asked her.

When Hermione replied that she didn't, Grubbly-Plank said, "Tiberius, your monocle." Holding out her hand as she retrieved her wand- chestnut- from her robes. Tiberius gave her a worried glance, but complied.

Mumbling, Grubbly-Plank laid a single strand of the orange hair over the glass of the monocle, then zigzagged her wand over it four times, first in one direction, then another.

The monocle gave the smallest of shudders in the palm of her hand, before starting to glow a deep orange. The light was a little fuzzy at first, but as Hermione watched, it grew brighter and sharper.

Wilhelmina smiled in satisfaction. "There. That's it."

"How will this help me find Crookshanks? Is it some sort of scrier?"

"In a way. It will help you follow his footsteps by tracking his hair. Best I can do with a creature of his size, unfortunately. Just put it on, Hermione, and follow the trail."

Putting it on was fiddly work. Hermione had never worn a monocle before and this one had obviously been made with someone much larger than her in mind. In the end, she had to screw the right side of her face up at a really awkward angle to keep it lodged in place.

The difference was immediate.

Her left eye saw just the same as before but to her right eye, the whole of the room was drowned in orange. Pulsing, orange lights. Some large only the size of a pinprick. Hermione looked down. The floor. She looked up. The ceiling. How?

Seeing her jaw drop open, Grubbly-Plank frowned. "Hermione? Didn't it work? I've used that charm for years-"

Wordlessly, Hermione left them and went out the door. The landing was just the same. It was all orange, every inch of it. Really, Crookshanks?

Her heart sank even as a rueful smile twisted her lips. Of course, she should have known that this wouldn't be that easy.

Hermione could hear Tiberius fretting behind her. The Arithmancy Professor could fret in such a way that it communicated his distress without making very much noise at all.

Sure enough, he asked, "Professor, if you please-?" She gave him the monocle. With practiced ease, he slipped it on and cocked his head quizzically with a muted, "I say!"

Tiberius turned to the other Heads, and gasped loudly.

"By Merlin-! Don't look, Lucius, don't look."

Lucius didn't understand at first. Then he looked down at himself. His face curdled slowly into horror.

"But I have never even met the creature-!"

"It doesn't matter. It's Crookshanks." Hermione said, feeling quite embarrassed. Then she turned to Wilhemina and said, regretfully, "Thanks for trying, but I don't think this is going to work."

Wilhelmina was not to be put off, however. If anything, her will only grew stronger. "I've tracked many magical creatures in my time, Hermione. Most of them aren't caught right away. I will find him."

Hermione went up to her, and threw her arms around the startled old witch in a tight hug.

In the end, Wilhelmina didn't bring Crookshanks back to Hermione. Lucius found him first.

He knocked on the door to her office the day after their failed attempt to track the cat down.

Hermione was burying her worries in work, as she always did, so she didn't immediately hear him knock. He had to gently call her name before she finally realised, and waved her hand to let him in.

Though it couldn't have been eight o'clock in the morning, Lucius Malfoy wore his usual aristocratic garb; a long black cloak to protect against the winter chill, over a black suit.

Hermione would have offered him a seat, but Lucius said straight away, "I have found your companion." He said this with perfect aplomb. "He is quite well. I didn't want to disturb him, so I thought I might take you to him instead."

Disturb him? Hermione didn't want to waste a single second, so she left her questions to one side and only said, "Take me to him."

Lucius took her, of all places, to the Owlery. He went straight past the Lost and Found cupboard and the Birdkeepers office, and headed for the rows upon rows of nesting boxes, perches and cages where the owls of Hogwarts came to roost.

Suddenly she knew where Lucius was taking her, and she cut in front of him to where Atlas, her owl, was kept.

Other owls had perches, or even cages, but that hadn't been good enough for Atlas. He had sulked and flapped his wings at her until she'd sorted out something a little more to his tastes. The eagle owl had his own private enclosure about the size of her office. The other birds gave it a wide berth.

The door was open, and she went inside.

The enclosure was strewn here and there with boulders for variety, but most of the space was dominated by branches arrayed in a vaguely tree-like shape standing about ten feet high. Up on the highest branch, Atlas was asleep; his head tucked down and his wings drawn tightly in. At his feet, somehow keeping his balance, was Crookshanks. The cat was resting his chin upon Atlas' great clawed feet. He seemed as supremely comfortable as only a cat could be.

Even from this distance, she could hear Crookshanks purring.

Coming to stand beside her, Lucius explained, "I saw him fly in. I have a fondness for eagle owls myself. They are magnificent birds."

Hermione was only half listening. "But they hate each other." She could hear the wonder in her voice. She knew that for owls, sleeping upright was only natural. But to her human eyes, there was something so protective about the way that Atlas stood over Crookshanks. As if he was standing guard.

Bemused, Lucius asked, "Do they? I would call them inseparable."

But at this moment, Atlas finally woke up from his slumber, and stirred. His great amber eyes opened, settled on the witch and the wizard, and filled with utter disgust. Beside her, Lucius huffed. She had no idea if he was amused, or offended.

Hermione felt oddly obliged to apologise for her bird's horrible attitude, but Crookshanks woke up before she could say a word. The orange cat stretched luxuriously, bounded down with effortless grace to the ground, and came to sit at Hermione's feet.

The orange cat looked up at her. He seemed to feel absolutely no guilt for the sleepless nights he'd given her, the fear she'd felt at the thought of him lost or hurt.

Instead he tipped back his head and yowled, informing her that he had never been fed before in his entire life.

Hermione sighed, but smiled all the same. She knelt down and Crookshanks leapt easily into her arms. Standing, she sank her face into his soft fur and started smothering him with kisses.

"Thank you, Lucius."

The letter was short. Extremely short, in fact.

"Sorry you had to find out about it like this, Hermione. How're you holding up?"

Hermione had woken up to it that morning. The letter was from Harry, and Hermione had absolutely no idea what it was referring to. Sorry she had to find out about what like this?

Whatever it was, Harry obviously thought she already knew about it. Hermione penned him a reply explaining that she honestly had no idea what he was on about, and to write her a proper explanation as soon as possible, and then sat around for half an hour, feeling sick with anxiety. Surely nothing could have happened to Amelia? Harry could never have been so flippant if that had been true. Finally, she went down to breakfast. There was no point waiting for a reply that could take hours to arrive.

On her way there, Hermione couldn't help but notice that several staff members were going out of their way to avoid her. Professor Flint barely paused long enough to offer to carry her things before racing past her in the opposite direction of Ravenclaw Tower the second she refused. This was very unusual. Flint never usually gave up that easily.

The final nail in the coffin was when she saw Barry Lynch, the Caretaker, levitating a worn-looking portrait by his side. At the sight of her, the young man paled. He turned sharply and walked in the other direction.

Hermione called after him, and he broke into a trot and was out of sight in moments. What in Merlin's name is going on?

Hermione sat down to breakfast. "Morning, everyone." She said cheerily, testing them.

In reply, they mumbled. Right. So, whatever it was, everyone knew about it.

She took up a copy of the Daily Prophet, not seeing how the rest of the faculty flinched. Dementors had been sighted on the outskirts of Dartford. That was a real worry. The Aurors were being spread very, very thin trying to keep them at bay. Hermione shook her head, and turned the page.

And there it was.

The Weasley family was proud to announce the engagement of their youngest son, Ronald, to Emily Wainwright.

It should have shocked her silly, but her brain took over, and she poured over the article.

The announcement was a perfectly standard one, which for wizarding families meant a photo with the whole family present. Ron stood with the young woman in the center, her family standing all behind her, and his behind him. This made it quite a large photo, because of how many Weasleys there were. They were all smiling and fawning over Ron and his fiancee, particularly Arthur, who looked fit to burst.

Hermione's turned her attention to the young couple.

They looked good together. Emily Wainwright. Hermione frowned in momentary confusion. She'd never heard of a wizarding family by that name. A closer look at the woman's clothes confirmed her suspicions. They were comfortable and modern. Quite pretty looking. She was a muggle. That would explain how deliriously happy Arthur looked.

Hermione was trying to wrap her head around it. Ron was getting married. It was a bit soon, wasn't it? At least, considering he obviously couldn't have known this girl for very long. Where would they have even met? Was she one of Harry's old school friends? Hermione discounted that idea almost immediately. She couldn't be. As far as Harry told it, he'd had no school friends.

All around her, the staff were desperately trying to pretend that they didn't know how to read. Or that they had forgotten that she was there. They stared at the bottom of their teacups, ate very slowly, and inched further and further away from her.

Did they think she would explode? Did they think she would set the Prophet on fire and throw a screaming tantrum?

She was unhappy that it hadn't worked out between the two of them, but she also knew that breaking up with him had been the right thing to do. And yes, it bothered her that they had gone so far, so fast. Could this young woman really understand what she was doing by involving herself in the wizarding world as a muggle? Had Ron thought to explain the risks to her? Had anyone?

But Hermione didn't know this girl. She didn't want to see her come to harm, by any means, but nor could she pretend that she was this upset purely out of concern for her safety. Maybe she was just sad that someone she had once been so close to, even if it had been a romantic closeness, had gotten engaged, and she'd only found out from a public announcement. His life had been moving forward too. She just wasn't a part of that anymore, just like he wasn't a part of hers.

It was a difficult thought, but not an untrue one. That wasn't all of it, though. There was something else that bothered her about it. She just didn't quite know what it was.

Sighing, she turned to her fellow staff members. They all grimaced. Trelawney dropped her teacup into her bowl of soup with a plop. No-one laughed, though Tiberius did remember himself at least far enough to help the frazzled Seer.

"Really, everyone. I'm completely fine." Hermione assured them. They didn't seem to quite believe her. Minerva gave her a sympathetic look; the old witch had a caring, compassionate heart underneath her iron exterior. "I'm not the sort of person who wants her ex boyfriend to be single forever. That would be pathetic." And cruel. "Besides, I did end it for a reason." Hermione didn't love Ronald. She didn't think she ever really had. That didn't mean that she wanted him to be miserable.

Hermione finished off her tea. Perhaps, given the situation, it would be better for her to relax today. She'd wanted to spend the day with Crookshanks anyway. Maybe she could go see Hagrid later on. He cared about both of them, so he probably wouldn't be as awkward as everyone else around her. Probably.

She would have to write Ron a letter of congratulations. It would be immature not to, and it would be noticed. While she and Ron weren't exactly friends anymore, she was close with Ginny and Harry. She didn't want to make things hard for them. And she honestly was happy for him, or she knew that she would be very soon. She just didn't know exactly when that would be.

What hurt, what actually stung, was the fact that Ron had obviously told Harry not to mention that he was in a serious relationship. There was no way that Harry would have just chosen not to mention it. Ron must have convinced Ginny too, now that she thought about it. What could he possibly have gained from secrecy? Had she ever, even in their nastiest fights, given him any reason to think that she would lash out at him for moving on? She'd never done anything to win him back, never been cruel to him on the rare occasions they had seen one another after the breakup. Treating her like a villain when she'd done nothing wrong… that was just- well.

It was just so typical of him.

As it turned out, an afternoon with Hagrid had been just what the doctor ordered.

The groundskeeper didn't read the papers, but he hadn't had to. Hagrid still got frequent visits and letters from Harry and Ron, so he'd already known, and he'd assumed that she'd known as well. She'd been able to have a good long talk with him.

Hagrid still liked Ron very much. Hagrid would always like anyone who was both Harry's friend and a former Gryffindor. Even so, the groundskeeper came as close to abusing Ron as he possibly could, in that he said he was 'a right bellend' for keeping things a secret the way he had, and that his fiancee, while undoubtedly a very pretty and lovely woman, wasn't 'near so smart or so pretty as you, Hermione.'

That had really been all she needed to hear. After an hour or so of talking about Ron, she was able to steer the conversation back towards happier topics. They chatted about Harry and Ginny's baby, speculated on whether they would be having any more, and Madame Maxime. Hagrid had been invited to Beauxbatons for a few months and Hermione was trying to bully him into accepting. Hagrid never took any time off, and Madame Maxime obviously wanted the two of them to make things a little more serious.

"You know, Hagrid, I think these are your best rock cakes yet." Hermione observed as she took a bite. And they were. They were noticeably softer than usual, and the taste was actually… nice. They were now something she could imagine herself eating of her own free will, rather than just to avoid hurting Hagrid's feelings.

Hagrid suddenly went red. "Er- about tha'. It's Emily's recipe. Got golden syrup in it. Hope ye don't mind."

Hermione's hand froze in the act of bringing her rock cake to her mouth. Then, she took a deep breath through her nose and finished it off. "It's lovely, Hagrid. She's a good cook."

Hermione had to bite back the rest of what she'd been about to say, which was that anyone Ron was going to marry would have to be a good cook, as he would expect her to do everything around the house for him, just as his mother had done.

Not knowing what she was thinking, Hagrid visibly relaxed, though he still looked a little guilty. Hermione made her excuses to leave not long after that.

She went up the rocky path to the castle, unsure of how to feel. The peace she'd found at Hagrid's had been soured by the reminder that so many of her friends had known, and kept it from her. Everyone had secrets. But the fact that so many people had known didn't sit right with her.

Hermione came to a stop, feet scuffing against the uneven stone of the path.

Not so far ahead of her, two men stood silhouetted against the setting sun.

Both were tall, with imposing figures. They stood side on. Their faces were covered in shadow, but Hermione knew exactly who they were. She just knew it.

The first, with longer hair pulled into a ponytail that fell past his shoulders. His hands were always moving, gesturing expansively. Persuasively. Lucius bloody Malfoy.

The other was built like a brick wall. Where Lucius's body language was friendly and open, this one's was closed, stoic and considering. He nodded every now and again. He stood with the confidence of a man who feared very little. She couldn't see much, but she could see that the blood red cloak he wore over one shoulder was fur-lined. Undeniably, indisputably, Viktor bloody Krum.

Viktor Krum, the boy who'd loved her. The boy whose letters she'd ignored to avoid incurring Ron's jealousy, now Seeker of the Quidditch World Champions and very much a man.

Viktor must have said something because Lucius laughed, clapped the younger man on his shoulder, and led him in the direction of the Quidditch Grounds. Hermione watched them go, jaw clenched.

Oh, for God's sake.

Hermione made her way to her rooms as fast as she could and Floo'd Ginny.

The redhead didn't let her get a word in. "Hermione- look. I'm really sorry about, you know. My idiot brother. I feel awful for going along with it, but he made me promise-"

Struggling to regain her breath, Hermione said, "Ginny, look, I know he's your family- Can we talk about that later?" And she explained what she had seen.

Hermione had been expecting the Coach to curse up a storm, but instead Ginny only nodded. "I was thinking he'd try something like this." Ginny said. "He's not bad, for an amateur, but he was never going to win the Cup against me."

"What are we going to do?"

"Do? Same thing as before, Hermione. I'm going to beat Slytherin, you're going to get the Inter-House cup, and Lucius Malfoy is going to cry in front of the entire Quidditch pitch."

Hermione grimaced. "Ginny, I don't think he's the crying type."

"Don't you? Well, he will be by the time I'm done with him. Bringing Viktor Krum in?" Ginny scowled. It was like a thundercloud had come over her fair face. "I hate cheaters."

Hermione went to breakfast the next morning with a spring in her step.

Admittedly, the spring was somewhat forced. She'd been practicing though, so it didn't come across too badly.

She came in to cheers, but they weren't for her. The Slytherin table was going beserk, and sure enough, Viktor Krum stood at the head of the table, side by side with Lucius Malfoy.

The last time she had seen Krum (except for last night, where he had mostly been obscured by shadow) had been at Bill and Fleur's wedding. Beneath his fur-lined scarlet cloak, his jacket was a dark maroon, with onyx dragon hide covering the shoulders. Hermione shook her head in wonder. Somehow, he'd gotten taller, more muscular, and better looking. It was actually kind of incredible, if you liked that kind of thing.

The students of the House of Merlin crowded round them, pleading for autographs, for personal training sessions, for advice.

Krum was stern, serious, and very intense. Lucius was soaking up all the adoration of his students, looking very, very pleased with himself.

As for the students of the other Houses, the girls by and large were shooting the world-class Seeker adoring looks. The more subtle of his admirers giggled at him from behind their hands, but most just outright pointed and praised his good looks and Quidditch skills aloud.

The majority of the boys, however, were not impressed. She heard a Gryffindor shout, "He didn't even go here!"

That was a good point, actually, but Minerva must have given the appointment her seal of approval. Lucius would never have brought Krum here without her consent; that would have achieved nothing except a public humiliation if she refused him.

Lucius's grey eyes shot to hers as she passed him. There was an anticipation in them that confused her. Had he been waiting for her, to watch her reaction to the new Slytherin coach?

Viktor noticed that Lucius' attention had shifted and he followed his gaze to her. Any hope that Hermione had been nurturing that Viktor Krum had gotten over his feelings for her died in that moment. The Seeker still stood tall and firm. He did not move a single inch or say a single word, but his whole heart was in his eyes. She sighed internally.

"Good morning, Viktor. Lucius." Hermione said, and went right past the both of them without breaking stride. She felt their eyes on her, heard a little indignant squawk; that had to be Lucius. Viktor Krum was too stoic for such an outburst.

And then she tucked right into her breakfast, refusing to hazard a glance at either of them until she was almost done. Then she allowed herself one small look.

Lucius Malfoy was staring at her with an expression she wasn't used to seeing on his face. Was- was Lucius pouting? Yes, yes he absolutely was.

Hermione grinned at him, she didn't bother holding it back. Lucius looked pretty cute when he pouted.

Lucius started, blushed, and turned away from her. She saw him pull the shroud of professionalism across his face a second too late. Hermione had won this round, and she knew it.

She ate breakfast quickly, not wanting to drag it out today. She didn't blame the students for being excited, but all the noise was starting to get on her nerves. Predictably, Lucius caught her in the corridor. Unfairly, he didn't have to run to catch up to her. His long legs made it easy for him.

"Hermione Granger," Lucius said, sounding really annoyed. He wasn't pouting anymore, which was a shame, but he definitely looked put out. "Is there anything that goes on in this castle that you don't know about?"

Hermione kept walking. "Plenty of things, actually."

By her side, the Potions professor seethed. "How did you know? I was very careful-"

She didn't elaborate. It turned out she didn't need to. Within moments, Lucius was spiralling down a series of increasingly ridiculous theories, entirely without her help. Had she been watching the Floo Network? Did she have spies at Durmstrang? Had she intercepted one of his owls, resealed it, and sent it on to him?

The fact that he believed that she was capable of all these things was actually… really flattering. She refused to acknowledge the possibility that Lucius Malfoy, while very clever, had simply fallen into the typical Slytherin pitfall of imagining conspiracies and intrigue where oftentimes, the simplest answer was actually the right one.

Soon, the Great Courtyard was ahead of them. The sun was shining. It was a winter sunshine, but that had always been one of her favourites.

It was all the invitation she needed. Hermione had about twenty minutes before her next class. She might as well use it. She saw a nice flat space underneath one of the old oak trees in the middle of the courtyard and made a beeline right for it. Lucius followed at her heels.

The rays kissed her cheeks as conjured up a blanket and she settled down beneath the tree. Pure bliss. Feeling a spark of inspiration, she Accio'd her work-journal into her waiting hand and started flipping through at random- there. Her latest idea that had been sadly neglected the last few weeks; a telescope that recorded what it saw and could adjust its magnification on command. It was trickier Charmwork than she'd first assumed, which was why she'd put it on hold, but now... Hermione smiled as Lucius Malfoy ranted and raved, but didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply. It was more fun that way, anyway.

She got to work. It was a beautiful day.

Sorry if this chapter isn't as fast-paced or as significant as the last one was, but tbh their relationship won't always progress in leaps and bounds. We are getting somewhere, though, I promise. Fun chapters up ahead.

Massive props to reader Zeeksmom, who called Viktor Krum being Slytherin Coach... what, three chapters ago? I couldn't believe it, but you know what? Nicely done!

I have a very important question for you guys, though... in terms of Lumione, which one of them is Crookshanks and which one is Atlas?

Next chapter might be a bit delayed as it needs a fair amount of work, but I will try to get it to you guys ASAP.

Your reviews are like Jason Isaacs ears; an unexpected but much loved gift. I am truly grateful for every single one of them.