"Good morning," Hermione cheerily greeted the blond quietly eating alone at the Slytherin table. She climbed into the seat next to him and smiled warmly at him. As his eyes landed on her, she took a deep breath to strengthen her resolve to not immediately confront him about the letter.

"Granger," Draco replied with a nod, watching her suspiciously. "What are you so happy about?"

"Just slept well. Do you have plans today?" Hermione asked, looking at him expectantly.

"No," Draco said, still wary. "We discussed going to the library. And I have a project I am meant to be working on, but I don't particularly want to do that today," he added, sounding bored.

"Why don't we research in Gryffindor Tower?" Hermione suggested. At his confused look she shrugged and said as nonchalantly as possible, "It is just a tad more comfortable. And we can discuss any findings at the volume we choose, since no one is there."

As they began walking toward the library to check out more books, Hermione watched him from the corner of her eye. Had she not read the letter, Hermione wouldn't have had an inkling that Draco felt anything for her. His face was cold, set in apathy, and he stared straight ahead as they strolled. Hermione caught his eye and gave him a smile, fighting the internal disappointment that she had to tackle the next step in her plan before diving into the letter: figure out about the trouble he is in. She was worried if she dove into his potential feelings too soon, she'd agitate him or scare him off. Instead, she would stick with her original plan. "So last night you mentioned your parents were on a business trip. What do they do?"

"What do you mean?" Draco suddenly looked defensive, stopping immediately in the middle of the hallway.

"I thought your father was still in prison and your mother didn't work. I know your father was on the board for Hogwarts, but outside of that I have no idea what he does." Draco gawked at her like a deer in the headlights for just a moment before schooling his face into the sneer she hadn't missed.

"Yes, I do recall mentioning that," Draco said slowly before taking a long pause. "My father is no longer in prison."

"I didn't realize he was released," Hermione forced herself to sound calm, as though she was commenting on the weather rather than a maniac who tried to kill her and her friends a few months ago. "You must be thrilled."

"He wasn't," Draco replied simply, letting the sentence hang there. The silence stretched between them as Hermione processed what Draco said. His father had either escaped prison or, more likely, been broken out by fellow Death Eaters. She watched his face contort as though he were in pain as she stood there, soundlessly analyzing. After a few moments, he let out a heavy sigh. "Granger, why don't we raincheck on the research? As curious as I am, I realize I shouldn't shirk my responsibilities with my project."

"What is this mystery project?" Hermione asked, hoping this route would offer an opening instead.

"I'm doing an independent study with Snape," Draco said coldly, setting his jaw as he glared at her. "He wanted me to be better prepared against the Dark Arts."

"An independent study…" Hermione trailed off, unspoken questions whirling around her. As she looked at the boy across from her, she decided on a simple one, a final chance to save the day and continue with her plan. "So, no time for our investigation?" Hermione tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

"Not today," Draco said, shaking his head once. "Perhaps we can pick it up tomorrow. I'll see you at dinner." Draco turned on his heel and stalked down the hallway, quickly rounding a corner.

When he ducked out of sight, Hermione cast a silencing spell on her shoes and hurried to catch him. As she quietly followed him to the corridor on the seventh floor, she saw his flash of platinum hair disappear behind a closing door. She sat down, prepared to keep watch, and pulled out a parchment and self inking quill to organize her thoughts and jot down her best hypotheses for what Draco was doing in the Room of Requirement. Flashes of Lucius flew through her mind as she constructed the worst possible scenarios of the problem Theo mentioned. Hermione desperately hoped Draco wasn't already a Death Eater, but took comfort in the fact that even if he was branded, his confession about blood status under the potion meant he didn't agree with their ideals. She sat there for hours, waiting through dinner for him to exit. When he didn't come back out by 7PM, Hermione dejectedly returned to the Tower. She'd have to continue to look for clues tomorrow.

"Good morning!" A now familiar voice sounded out behind him as he pushed around his eggs. Draco felt a tension he didn't know he was holding drop from his shoulders at the sound of her voice. He was still irritated at her nosiness from yesterday, but thankful she still wanted to talk to him after his quick exit yesterday.

"Good morning, Granger," Draco turned to look at her. She was wrapped in the pink monstrosity of a cloak. "Off on an adventure?"

"No, I went for a morning walk. It helps me think. I was planning to hit the library today, if you'd like to join me." Draco's mouth dried as he remembered the only reason she would even be bothering to talk to him.

"I suppose we should keep looking for answers about the mystery potion," Draco said, pushing down the shame he felt at being so pathetic to have to lie to spend time with Hermione.

"Right," she replied after a beat, her chestnut eyes watching him carefully. "I didn't make much progress solo yesterday." He nodded in response, wondering how much time he had before the prying witch would be able to work it out through her research. "You didn't think of any other suspects did you?"

"No," Draco shook his head. "Shall we go now? Unless you'd actually like something to eat?" Draco found Hermione's erratic breakfast habits strange, given how organized she was in other aspects of her life. She was just as likely to skip it as she was to have a full English.

"Let's go." As they walked through the empty corridors, he felt Hermione's eyes on him. "You know, we didn't discuss your friends as possible suspects," Hermione said in a scholarly tone, as though she was making an observation about a potion. Draco started feeling nauseous as she unconsciously inched closer to the truth. "Like Blaise Zabini and….who is that other fellow you spend time with? The skinny one." Draco stared forward, keeping his breathing even. When he didn't respond she continued. "You know, the bookish one, sort of handsome."

"You think Theo is handsome?" Draco blurted out, whipping his head to turn towards her. Envy bubbled up in his chest, the speed of the immediate irritation surprising him.

"Theo, that's his name. You don't think maybe Blaise or Theo did this? Maybe to make you feel foolish by mooning over the mudblood." Even Hermione's sweet voice couldn't cover the bitterness of that slur. Draco could feel his features harden at the word.

"Don't say that," Draco hissed at her, stopping in front of her. He looked down at the petite witch, who looked surprised at his abrupt reaction. "I already told you, don't ever say that word."

"You mean on Christmas Eve? So, you'd say you were telling the truth the other night?"

"No, I was out of my mind, you know that," Draco scoffed, now alarmed at the direction the conversation was turning. "Love potion makes you act crazy. I didn't mean any of it. Aren't you meant to be smart?"

"Right," Hermione said, both her face and tone blank and unyielding. "Because you could never be with someone like me."

"Because I could never be with someone like you," Draco repeated hollowly, feeling ill at her implication.

"I don't believe you." Draco's stomach sank, knowing what he'd have to do. At the same time an anger rose in his chest, with the question demanding why she was making him do this pulsing within him before dying in his throat. Before he could speak, she took a step closer and assertively said, "I think you could. I think you want that and you don't know how to handle it." She quickly pressed her lips to his, so softly he wasn't sure if he was stuck in another daydream featuring her. He felt an overwhelming temptation to stay there, to kiss her back, to walk her into the stone wall behind them and explore every inch of her body. But the threat of the Dark Lord, an ever present entity lurking in his subconscious, proved stronger.

"Merlin, Granger, I knew you were lonely, but must you be so desperate?" Draco said coldly, pushing her forcefully off of him. The face she made, like he'd physically struck her, made bile rise in his throat. "I'd never want to be with you," he added for good measure. Mentally preparing for a slap, he was surprised when her hands went to her pockets instead.

"I don't know why you're acting so horrid, but you're missing this," she yelled as she shoved a piece of parchment to his chest and turned on her heel to storm away. Draco fumbled the paper and opened it. As soon as he was his name in Theo's handwriting, his stomach dropped. He tried to think about what he did with the letter, when it could have fallen out. He realized that he had been so distracted on Christmas Day that he'd hung his robes back up without even checking the pockets. Draco considered letting her go and letting himself die of embarrassment, but knew eventually she'd calm down and start digging even further. That was a risk neither of them could take.

"Granger, wait," Draco called, following her. She quickened her pace, but his long legs outmatched her. Draco grabbed her by the wrist and whirled her around until they were face to face.

"What, more rude comments?" Hermione spat at him, the angry and distrusting expression he was so familiar with looking back at him. Here stood the Hermione Granger he was used to; the hothead who hated him. "Or did you -"

"Hermione," Draco said urgently, cutting her off. "You need to forget that you saw this. We can't - I can't have anyone close to me. Do you understand?"

"Does this have to do with the problem Theo mentioned?" Hermione asked softly, the edge from her voice gone. Draco took a moment to think through his options, deciding a limited truth was likely his best bet to shake her off.

"Yes. But I can't say anything more, it is quite literally a matter of life or death."

"Theo thought I could help," Hermione offered, clearly ready for an argument. "Why not let me try?"

"You can't. No one can. And I cannot stress this enough: you must leave it alone." The girl stared at him for an uncomfortably long time, the gears in her head clearly turning at a breakneck speed.

"If you knew what happened all along, why pretend as though you had no idea?"

"You read the bloody letter," Draco said, mentally cursing himself as his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and looked at his feet. "You know why."

"But you just said it was dangerous for you to be...involved with anyone. So logically, wouldn't you lie and stop looking?" Draco groaned in response.

"Would you really have been satisfied with a lie and left it alone?" Draco challenged, cocking his head at her. Hermione had the self-awareness to look embarrassed. "I just - I couldn't help myself," he continued, softer now. "Spending time with you is nearly the same feeling I had under that Godric-damned potion. It's addictive. It's like I'm not looking down the end of a wand, waiting for death for the first time in months. And no one is around, I thought just spending time with you would be harmless enough," he forced out, sure that this was the closest he'd ever felt to the Cruciatus curse. At his confession, Hermione looked stunned. He was certain she'd run, go back to ignoring him, hating him. The idea of that both comforted and crushed him. Instead, her hand reaching out to his arm broke his thoughts.

"No one is around now," Hermione said plainly after releasing her bottom lip from between her teeth.

At that, even the Dark Lord wasn't enough of a deterrent. Draco took a step towards her, welcoming the scent of vanilla like an old friend that he'd missed. As their lips connected again, he felt her hands grab fistfuls of his shirt. The room became dizzyingly hot, her mouth opening and inviting him in. His heartbeat thudded in his ears when Hermione's chest pushed against his. Draco tugged her closer, reveling in this singular moment that he knew he couldn't relive again. One thought rang out and repeated itself over and over: "This was so much better than Christmas Eve." Draco was present and in complete control of his actions, his senses alert rather than dulled by the potion. He pulled back, resting his forehead to her's, and cupping her jaw with one hand. The pair looked at each other, wearing matching serious expressions.

"I can promise not to push things, if you can promise to live in the moment while no one is around," Hermione whispered. "We have a week left of break. Let's enjoy it." Draco was shocked by the suggestion, which sounded utterly unGranger-like. But he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to continue this. He answered her by leaning back down and melting into her mouth again.

"Good morning!" Hermione greeted him at the Great Hall the next day. Hermione had woken up early and rehearsed what she would say over breakfast. Though she had lied about leaving his problem alone, Hermione had created a three-pronged approach to help him as to be more subtle about it. First, she'd gain his trust. Second, she'd continue to watch him and look for clues. Third, she'd slowly start asking more questions. She'd planned a list of questions to build trust, grabbed directly from the psychology textbook she'd picked up over the summer. Just as she opened her mouth to ask her first carefully selected question, Draco interrupted her.

"You're late," he said, grabbing her by the elbow and dragging her from the table.

"What are you doing?" Hermione demanded, looking back at the retreating empty Great Hall and her deteriorating plan. "What am I late for?"

"Put this on," Draco instructed as he handed her a cloak. "Better than that horrid pink thing you had on yesterday, probably much warmer too."

"Why? Because it is not mugglemade?" Hermione asked shrilly.

"It is charmed to warm you, so yes," Draco said, rolling his eyes. Hermione scrunched up her face in response, but said nothing and wrapped the cloak around her.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked, more impatiently now.

"Right here," he stopped and reached out a stone column in the courtyard, producing his broom.

"Oh no, that is not happening," Hermione shook her head and started back to the castle.

"Come on now, Granger. I know you mentioned your fear of flying, but let me show you my favorite thing to do. We can stay low to the ground and go slow."

After 10 minutes of negotiating, Hermione reluctantly found herself seated on Draco's broom, clinging to him for dear life. He started slow, flying them towards the lake. Hermione took deep breaths to calm down, Draco's spice cologne enveloping her. She could feel Draco shaking with laughter when she yelped and tightened her grasp around his waist as he sped up. When he started to drift a few feet higher, Hermione tapped him incessantly on the shoulder until he dropped back down to a reasonable height.

"So, did I make a flier out of you?" Draco asked as she hopped off only 15 minutes after she'd gotten on. He reluctantly landed, looking put out to be on the ground again.

"Certainly not," Hermione huffed. "But I promise to enjoy watching you fly, with my two feet planted on the ground. You're rather graceful."

"Been watching me then, Granger? I know the best seeker is hard to ignore," Draco said, winking cheekily. "Fancy a game of Wizard's chess?" Draco asked before she could defend Harry. Hermione smiled and nodded enthusiastically, confident in her skills after years of playing with Ron. The pair walked up to the abandoned Tower, Hermione relishing the feeling of his hand encasing her's.

"Good morning!" Hermione called the following day, sitting down next to him. He nodded sleepily as he took a bite out of his green apple. He'd only been able to drag himself away from their conversation at 2AM last night, tiredly stumbling down to the dungeons.

"Morning, witch," he said after he munched, wiping the juices at the corners of his mouth quickly. "Another adventure planned for the day? Any other games you'd like to hustle me at?"

"No use sulking. You should play with Ron if you want to get better," Hermione sing-songed. Draco sneered at the idea of playing the Weasel at Wizard's chess. "I do have something planned, and thankfully we don't have to go into this snow storm." When he stood up, curious about her plan, Hermione intertwined their hands and led him to an empty hallway on the fourth floor. She stopped, looking around before she positioned him in front of a tapestry.

"Are we critiquing the castle's art today? Because this is hideous," Draco said as he quirked an eyebrow at her. She walked around and faced him, stepping up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. As he leaned down, she took a quick step back, disappearing behind the tapestry. "Clever witch!" Draco exclaimed as he stepped through to see her laughing. "How did you find this?"

"That I can't tell," Hermione smiled, thinking of the map. "But I did have an idea of what we could do today," she whispered huskily before launching herself at him. He staggered back at the shift in weight before adjusting the two of them and kissing her hungrily. They snogged until their lips were red and chapped. "We are going to have to send Theo a thank you note," Hermione laughed as they broke apart, both breathing heavily. Draco sighed, letting his eyes drift upward.

"No, don't do that," Draco scolded. "I need to murder him first," he smirked before pulling her back in for another kiss, hoping they'd spend the rest of the day doing only this.

"Good morning!" Hermione said the next morning as he walked into the Great Hall, capturing his attention back from the particularly dirty daydream he was having about her. It was an indulgence he started to allow on Christmas Day and he couldn't get enough, especially as their snogging progressed. "Breakfast to go this morning, you're coming for a walk with me," she added before he could reply, grabbing a green apple and tossing it at him. He slowly turned to follow her, wondering if there would be any kissing on their walk.

The pair walked quietly out the courtyard towards the lake. Once they were out of sight of the castle and alone, Hermione slipped her hand into his and squeezed. With each step through the snow, Draco counted his gratitudes. A week ago he never would have imagined his luck. Suddenly Hermione stopped and broke away, bending down. Assuming she was adjusting her boot, he too stopped and turned around to wait for her. Instead he was met with a face full of snow. He heard Hermione laughing, taking a few steps back. "Oh really now?" Draco asked, wiping his face. He wandlessly threw a snowball at her.

"Draco!" Hermione screeched as the snowball hit her shoulder.

"Don't start something you can't finish, Granger," Draco said haughtily as he threw another at her. "Especially with a Slytherin." Hermione dodged the snowball, bending down to pick up some snow and began running towards him. "This is not how a snowball fight works, Granger! Do muggles not do this?" He yelled over his shoulder as he started to run away. After a few yards he turned around to stop her, and she barreled into him. The pair fell back into the snow, ice immediately falling down his cloak and on to his neck. He quickly reached to the side, scooped some up, and returned the favor by pouring some snow down Hermione's pink jacket. Draco quickly captured her scream with his lips and the pair kissed in the snow until it became too cold to stay there.

"Merlin, I'm freezing," Draco complained as he performed a drying spell on Hermione first, then himself.

"Thank you," Hermione said between shivers. "Read by the fire to warm up?"

An hour later the two sat in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room, Draco reading Potions Quarterly and Hermione devouring her favorite Agatha Christie novel.

"I wish we had hot chocolate," Hermione remarked without glancing up from her book, breaking the silence. Draco looked at her like she was speaking another language.

"Just call for a house elf," Draco suggested as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Absolutely not," Hermione scoffed.

"The elves are afraid of you, aren't they?" Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "Is that why?"

"No. I just don't like to utilize slavery," Hermione said as she glared at him.

"Merlin, Granger. How do you know so much and yet understand so little?" Hermione opened her mouth to argue and Draco held up a hand. "Mizzy!" With a crack of apparition a small elf appeared. At the sight of Hermione, her wide eyes got even wider. "See? Scared," Draco smirked at Hermione, who huffed in response. Even now, he enjoyed being able to work her up like this. "Hello Mizzy. Would you please retrieve two cups of hot chocolate for Miss Granger and me?"

"Yous is wanting it the usual way?" The elf asked softly. Draco nodded and the elf cracked away.

"Well that was better than I expected," Hermione said impassively.

"Meaning what? You thought they'd run when they saw you?" Draco laughed, but cut himself off when he realized Hermione hadn't joined him. Instead, her lips were pursed and she looked angry.

"I'm friends with Dobby," Hermione said evenly. Draco's chest suddenly felt heavy at the last memory he had of the small elf. The Easter break before he'd been freed, his father had kicked him down the stairs as Draco watched from the bottom. With each step, Draco had winced, feeling poorly for the elf that crumpled at his feet.

"Dobby was my father's personal elf. He had a very different relationship with him than I do with elves," Draco started before the apparition crack cut him off. Mizzy appeared, silently handing Draco the two mugs while cautiously watching Hermione. As the elf disapperated, Draco let loose a chuckle. "Still scared."

"This is the usual way?" Hermione asked, observing the heaping mountain of whipped cream with a candy cane peeking out the side.

"Yes," Draco smiled wistfully. "My house elf, Tippy, would make this for me when I was a boy. Some of my favorite childhood memories were sitting in the kitchen, drinking this and talking with her after coming in from flying. When I was homesick the first year, I wrote home to get the recipe and gave it to the house elves here. They've made it for me this way ever since."

"You were homesick in our first year?" Hermione struggled to imagine the overly confident, smug boy she knew ever being homesick.

"Are you joking? Of course. I was constantly homesick. Theo and I had a bit of a rough adjustment, so we did not spend much time together. Potter didn't give me a chance, embarrassed me immediately. The first few months were hell."

Hermione gave him an understanding smile, thinking of how difficult her first two months were. "I can understand that. Thank you for sharing this with me," she said as she held up her mug as if to cheers him before taking a big sip. They settled back into their silent reading, sipping hot chocolate in front of the fire.

Several hours later, Hermione woke with a start, looking around confused for a moment about where she was. After a few moments, she realized she and Draco must have fallen asleep on the Gryffindor common room couch. The morning light streamed in and the couch next to her was cold, so she wondered if he went back to the dungeon in the night or went ahead early for breakfast. Hermione hummed to herself as she got ready, feeling ridiculously happy and wonderfully not alone for the first time since she sent her parents away. But today it was time for her to take the next step in her plan. She was confident that with the trust they'd started to build this week, she could convince him to tell her what he was hiding in the Room of Requirement. With only a handful of days left, she had to make the plan work. Otherwise, she knew he'd retreat from her, returning to the Malfoy she knew, and put himself into whatever danger he was facing. Plus, she wasn't ready for this past week to fade into a memory. As she walked into the Great Hall, eager for whatever the day had in store for them, her eyes stopped on an empty Slytherin table. "Where is Draco?"