A/N Okay, in case you haven't noticed, this story is mostly canon, but it IS an AU, because it completely disregards the epilogue at the end of DH and also it ignores the fact that JKR ruthlessly killed Fred Weasley (I don't know if I can forgive her for that one). Everything else is canon, pretty much, except for when it doesn't suit me or my plotline and I decide to unceremoniously throw it out the window. I also have a bit of fun with a couple of characters and mangle them pretty badly, but it's all in good fun. I do hope you all can forgive me. Okay, enough with my rant.

Hermione hadn't gotten in until late that night because Malfoy had insisted on taking her to dinner. She was starting to get confused. She had never been in this kind of…situation before. One could hardly call it a relationship, or a friendship even. Malfoy was civil to her, and sometimes even very nice, like with the library. She had forgotten herself there, but Malfoy had wasted no trouble reminding her. She resolved in that moment that she must be more careful in the future, and never forget that this was all a game.

It wasn't like Hermione to forget herself around any guy, but Malfoy? He had been acting rather out-of-character lately, that was all. That was the reason she was having a hard time keeping her head on straight. It was probably just because it had been so long since someone had gone so far out of their way to do nice things for her, even with an ulterior motive. Her relationship with Ron had long since cooled and evolved (or rather, devolved) into what it was today, and she hadn't really had a real relationship with anyone else from then till now.

Not that this was a relationship.

She knew that she hadn't been exactly acting like herself lately, either. What had made her press up against Malfoy yesterday and whisper in his ear like that? At the time it had been to get back at him for the other day when he breathed in her ear and set her on edge. But why had he reacted the way he did? She had expected him to be furious. Hermione decided not to think about it for now. After all, it was only a game, wasn't it?

Friday night came, and as usual, Hermione went to the Weasley's for dinner. She was looking forward to this little bit of normalcy in her life, especially with the seven vases of pink roses in her office and news about her "affair" plastered all over the Prophet this morning. Besides, she hadn't seen Ron or Harry all week.

But when she walked in the kitchen, Hermione knew this particular dinner would be anything but normal.

"When were you planning on telling us about you and M—M—Oh I can't even say it!" Ron exploded without preamble, looking dangerous. He was clutching the back of a chair with white knuckles as if to keep himself from flying across the room at her.

"Easy, Ron," Harry said, placing a hand on Ron's shaking shoulder and looking at Hermione with fire in his eyes. "Let's give her a chance to explain."

The rest of the Weasley clan sat around the kitchen with similar expressions on their faces. Hermione sighed. She had thought they might react like this. Okay, so maybe she was certain they would react this way. After all, she was consorting with the enemy.

"Please just let me explain," she began, but Ron cut across her.

"Not even an owl to anyone! Mum and Dad have been trying to get in touch with you all week, but no one can get through to you! Something about 'tightened security?' Do you think you're too good for us now?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" Hermione said softly. "I swear to you I had no idea this security thing meant that people I love couldn't reach me, but I'll have that changed right away. I'm so sorry. As for me seeing Malfoy, well, it's a long story…" she trailed off, relieved that at least some of the anger in the room had abated.

"We've got all night," Harry replied, still looking a bit mutinous, but pulling a chair out from under the table for Hermione.

An hour later they were all still staring at her, their expressions ranging from disbelief (Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred, and George) to shock (Ron, Harry, and Ginny).

"It's only another week, and then I can just pretend like it never happened," Hermione said, in an effort to break the silence. Mrs. Weasley stood up and crossed the room to Hermione, wrapping her arms around her and hugging her tightly.

"Hermione, dear, I can't say that this is the right thing, what you're doing," she said, tucking a stray curl behind Hermione's ear, "but I know that you must have thought there was no other way at the time. You're a smart girl, and we know you can take care of yourself," she added, patting Hermione under the chin and smiling. "Let's all eat dinner now, shall we?" Mrs. Weasley said, addressing the room at large.

In the clamor that followed, Mrs. Weasley held Hermione at arms' length and examined her closely. "Yes, I don't know why I never saw it before. You're just like Moira, aren't you?" Then she sniffed, and wiping a tear from her eye, she added, "I have some pictures for you later, if you'd like."

Hermione could have turned a cartwheel. "Yes, I'd like that very much," she told Mrs. Weasley, giving her another hug and suddenly feeling very giddy.

She even joined in the Malfoy-bashing that went on at the dinner table that night.

"Oh honestly, can't you come up with anything better than 'ferret-boy?'" she said through a giggle. "What about 'self-serving glory-hogging egotistical mama's boy?'"

"Yes, well, as lovely as it sounds, it doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, Hermione," Fred chuckled, wiping his eyes on his robes.

"I agree that 'ferret' is a bit tired, though," added George. "We seriously need some new material."

After dinner Mrs. Weasley took Hermione upstairs to her bedroom. She motioned for Hermione to sit on the quilt-covered bed, then she tapped the top of the trunk at the foot of the bed, and Hermione heard it unlock. In a moment Mrs. Weasley was opening an old photo album on the bed in front of Hermione.

"Moira—I mean, your mother—and I weren't exactly close, but we were friends…ahh, there she is!"

Hermione gasped. The girl in the picture might have been her except that her hair was blonde and straight. She was standing in a group of girls, all wearing Gryffindor scarves and waving.

"She was beautiful," Hermione breathed, unable to tear her eyes away.

"Yes, she definitely was a beauty…let's see, oh here's a picture of Phillip, there!" Mrs. Weasley said triumphantly, pointing at a picture a few pages later. The boy in the picture was smiling with his mouth closed and arms crossed, but in a moment he opened his mouth to laugh, revealing rather prominent front teeth, then he quickly closed it again. He was very handsome, though, and Hermione noticed that his hair was thick and curly and stuck out more than it laid down.

"And I'm almost certain I've got one of them together here somewhere…aha!" There was her mother again, long blonde hair spilling down her back, looking up at Hermione's father with a wide smile. He was looking back down at her with love all over his handsome features, a genuine smile across his face, with his arms around her waist. Hermione felt a tear slip down her cheek.

"Anyway dear, I want you to have these," Mrs. Weasley said, pushing the three photographs into Hermione's hands and wrapping her in a fierce hug.

"Th-thank you, Mrs. Weasley," sniffed Hermione, clutching the pictures to her heart. "You have no idea what this means to me."

"You're welcome," smiled Mrs. Weasley, and Hermione noticed that more than one tear was slipping down Mrs. Weasley's cheeks as well.

Later, Harry and Ron went with Hermione to her flat for some much-needed "together time" as Ron had put it.

"You know it's funny," Hermione said in a voice only she and Harry could hear, "that's exactly what he used to call it when we would go off to snog."

She and Harry burst into gales of silent laughter as Ron, oblivious, rummaged in the refrigerator.

"You can't still be hungry Ronald," Hermione said in disbelief. Ron turned around and gave kind of a half-shrug before continuing his raid.

After a while, as Harry and Ron were chatting about the Quidditch World Cup and paying no attention whatsoever to her, Hermione took out her parents' pictures again. She had been sneaking peeks at them all night when she thought no one was looking.

"I know how you feel," Harry said from over her shoulder, causing Hermione to jump in surprise. She chuckled sheepishly, running a hand through her hair.

"It's so strange not to have known about them until a week ago but to miss them so much now," she said, screwing up her nose. "Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, it does," Harry replied, and Hermione remembered in a flash that he had gone through this once, too. "Just don't forget the parents that raised you," he added, patting her on the back. "You're lucky to have them, Hermione."

She nodded, and Ron draped an arm around her shoulders. No, she wouldn't forget.

Draco was sitting at the breakfast table when a house elf came sidling up to him with a scroll of parchment.

"This just came for you, M-Master Draco, s-sir," he said, placing the scroll on Draco's empty plate and bowing out of the room again.

Draco broke the seal and spread the parchment out on the table in front of him.

I need to see you. Now. Meet me outside my apartment building at 8 o'clock.

H.G.

Draco glanced at the clock. Ten till eight. He didn't have time to wonder what in the world was so important, so he rose and bade his parents goodbye, kissing his mother on the cheek as he did so.

Nine minutes later he was standing outside the door to Hermione's building, tapping his foot in impatience.

Suddenly she was throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him on the cheek. Draco was surprised to say the least, but returned the embrace as Hermione whispered close to his ear,

"How's this for a show?"

So she wanted a show, did she? He'd give her a show.

Her mouth was still close to his ear, so he turned his head quickly and covered her lips with his. He saw her eyes fly open wide in shock, and it only spurred him on. He deepened the kiss and pulled her closer, teasing her mouth open with his tongue.

Hermione's hands were suddenly behind his head, tangled in the hair at the base of his neck, and she was kissing him back. Draco growled into her mouth and ran a hand roughly up her neck and along the length of her jaw, his other hand on the small of her back, pressing them closer.

For a moment, all Draco could think about was how warm and soft she was, pressed up against him like that, how he could taste the mint of her toothpaste lingering on her tongue, and how every time he inhaled all he could smell was a flowery scent that seemed to be coming from her hair.

Then, suddenly, the world came crashing back as a brilliant flash went off. Hermione broke free and Draco looked up just in time to see the man with the camera wink and disappear into the crowd of people who had stopped to watch their "show." He glanced back at Hermione. She was blushing.

"Come on," Draco said tightly through a plastic grin, not even moving his lips as he spoke. He waved a hand at the people and grabbed Hermione by the waist, guiding her expertly through the crowd. Neither one spoke again until they were safely tucked away in the little café from their first "date."

"What was that all about?" Hermione whispered fiercely as they sat down at a corner table. Draco shrugged.

"You wanted to give the people a show; I gave them a show."

Hermione growled at him, color creeping up her neck, but she said nothing else.

"Now why did you drag me out of bed this morning without so much as an explanation? Did you fancy a good morning shag?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Of course not," she answered loftily, her eyes blazing. "I needed to speak with you about this 'tightened security' business. I had no idea you'd be stopping Ron and Harry or any of my other friends from contacting me! You knew that's not what I wanted!"

"Calm down, love, you're making a scene," Draco answered coolly. People were indeed beginning to look round at them.

"I will make a scene if I damn well please," Hermione snapped back, but she did lower her voice. Draco smirked. It always amused him at how quickly she flared up and down. Then he frowned.

"But of course I'll take care of it," he said, his voice full of spite. "We mustn't keep Saint Potter and his pet Weasel away from you too long, as I'm sure you would all explode if you were apart for more than ten minutes."

"Not jealous, are you, Draco?" Hermione said softly, now arching an eyebrow at him. Draco scoffed. Of course he wasn't jealous, and he said so.

"Good, because I'm spending all day with them tomorrow," Hermione replied. Draco opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it and merely expressed his condolences that she would have to be in their company for that long.

Okay I decided to take a page out of Akashathekitty's book and give a little evil preview at the end of this chapter. Here you go.

-----

"No, no, I mustn't," Hermione said quickly, looking at Draco in alarm. Do something, she tried to say with her eyes. Looking back at Narcissa, she pleaded, "My job at the Ministry—"

"—will go on without you for one day, darling," Narcissa finished for her.

-----

There. Was that evil enough? I wouldn't know, I've never done a chapter preview before. So. What happens? Guess you'll just have to wait until next chapter…MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA…