Chapter Forty-Five

She pulled in the tiniest of breaths and then he was kissing her. Softly at first, barely a brush of lips on lips, as if he was afraid she was going to pull away. But his confidence grew quickly, and soon Draco had slipped an arm around her waist, drawing Hermione against his chest, his other hand sliding into her hair. His mouth became more demanding, and soon he was kissing her like he was a drowning man and she was his oxygen, deep and needy and almost desperate. She felt Draco turn their bodies from the bed and a moment later her back bumped up against the wall, and still Draco pressed against her, the hard plains of his chest meeting the softness of hers, heartbeats and heavy breaths clashing in the air between them. Dizzy and trembling, Hermione clung to whatever part of Draco's shirt her blindly searching fingers could find, feeling the world fall away around her. He smelled of cinnamon and cloves, and tasted like mulled wine, and all her senses were soon lost to the heat and sensation of Draco's mouth.

When they finally broke apart Hermione was breathless, her heart beating so hard in her chest that the feeling was almost painful. She felt a hand flutter up to touch her swollen lips and they tingled at the brush of her fingertips. She stared up into Draco's face as he leaned over her, and he looked completely undone. His pupils were blown wide, eyes still dark with desire, and his normally pale cheeks were tinged with more colour than she thought she'd ever seen there. His chest rose and fell almost as rapidly as her own, and the expression on his face was undefinable. She wondered what he was thinking.

xXx

Draco felt like he was drunk on the taste of her. He'd meant to only give Hermione a single, chaste, kiss; just to show her that how he felt about her had passed on from only friendship, but as soon as she'd tilted her small, heart-shaped face up toward his, closing her eyes and allowing him to touch her cheek, cup her face, utter trust in her whole being, he'd felt his heart swell with an emotion so big he wasn't sure what to even name it. He'd looked down at her lips, soft and pink and inviting, and had been unable to hold back any longer. The first brush against them set a match to the fire within him; she'd tasted like the sugared strawberry tarts he'd seen on the buffet table and it had taken him every once of willpower to be slow and gentle in those first moments. If he was too intense who knew how Hermione would react? When her response to his kiss wasn't to shove him away from herself, he loosened his restraint a little, allowing himself to touch her, a hand at her waist, another wound into her luscious curls.

He felt his heart beat faster and faster, spurred on by the tiny murmurs Hermione was making into his mouth. Merlin, if she didn't stop doing that he wouldn't be responsible for what happened. Needing to be closer to her, Draco tried to turn Hermione slightly, bumping his leg against the side of the heavy wooden bed frame. It would be easy enough to lift her up and lay her back atop the covers, but he didn't think she would appreciate a smooth move like that as much as Pansy had, and he didn't want her to think he wanted sex. Barely coherent, Draco managed to maneuver her up against the gilded wallpaper instead.

It was only for need of air that he finally broke free of her, and even then he felt unable to move away. Instead he bent over her smaller frame, panting from exertion and dizzy from want of her. Hermione looked up at him, also breathing hard, her face flushed in that becoming way that drove him wild. He could feel her beating heart racing his own, and when she reached up to touch her kiss-swollen lips, he felt a second powerful wave of desire roll over him. He bent toward her again, desperate to taste her once more.

When Hermione flinched back from him he nearly cursed out loud. Disappointment and anger and hurt raged within his chest and Draco fought to hold everything back. He'd pushed too much. He'd known he would. He had been longing for her for so long that he must have lost control and frightened her with his need. She was moving away from the wall now, he'd obviously made her feel cornered, penned in, and now she was about to flee his bedroom, probably to run back downstairs to Potter and the rest with stories of how she'd only been trying to recover from seeing Blaise and then Draco had jumped her. Draco felt a sour taste in his mouth and swallowed it back. He'd been trying so hard to be patient, to be careful and attentive to Hermione's feelings, but he'd obviously misunderstood everything. Well, he might as well be hung for a pound as for a penny. When Hermione moved to walk past him, he reached out and gently caught her wrist, if she was never going to speak to him again he had to tell her everything now. He just prayed that she would stop and hear him out.

xXx

Draco leaned toward her a second time and she pulled back, suddenly rocked with the enormity of what they'd just done. She'd just let Draco Malfoy kiss her. No, she'd not just allowed the action, but been a willing participant. What did that mean? They'd been dancing around their feelings for weeks, but now suddenly she was making out with Draco in his bedroom?

Panic seized her and Hermione pressed her hand over her mouth as if blocking Draco from kissing her again. Eyes wide with confusion and anxiety, she stepped away, stumbling on unsteady legs, unsure if she simply meant to give herself a little breathing room to try and sort through her feelings, or if she intended to flee the room altogether. As she pushed away, Draco's hands fell unresistingly from where he'd been holding her, but when she made to move past him, one hand caught her wrist, pulling her to a gentle stop. They stood there for an eternity locked in a single moment, she: frozen in the act of stepping toward the door, and he: still facing the wall, unmoving aside from the hand that held her wrist. The room was silent but for their heavy breathing. And then Draco spoke.

"Hermione," Draco's voice was almost a whisper, rough with emotion, and perhaps his own unsteady breathing, but his quiet use of her name halted her as it always did. "Please," he continued, his fingers tightening fractionally as he gently drew her back toward him, not allowing her to flee. "Don't run from this."

She couldn't look at him, face hot with embarrassment instead of passion now, and so Hermione ducked her head, biting her lip and searching for something to say. It hadn't been a bad kiss. If anything in the many rumours revolving around Draco Malfoy were true, his ability to kiss well had been understated. He'd done things with his mouth that Hermione wouldn't even admit to reading about. She was reminded of a line from Gone With the Wind: "You should be kissed, and often, and by someone who knows how."

Well, Draco Malfoy definitely knew how.

Slowly, she turned back around, heart still thrumming in her chest like a trapped bird. All the words she wanted to say were caught in her throat, and she found she was only able to stare back at him, all eyes and panting breaths as she tried to steady herself. Draco looked at her, his expression still half-wild with longing, then he took a step back, shoving an elegantly fingered hand through his fine blond hair as he tore his gaze away. Silence stretched between them as Hermione looked at the floor, her own hands clutched against her chest, fingers knotted together in her anxiety. Inside she was screaming at herself, demanding to know why she wasn't throwing herself into Draco's arms and dragging his lips back down to hers. She didn't really know herself. She both wanted to kiss him again, never stop, not even to breathe, and at the same time her feet itched to run, to carry her away from the rawness of what she felt.

A hand was suddenly under her chin, gently coaxing her to look at up him, and Hermione didn't resist, though she trembled as she finally lifted her eyes to meet Draco's. His mask glittered in the firelight, his hair ruffled around it from where he'd shoved his hand through it in his agitation. She was sure he could read the uncertainty in her eyes, and yet, the look on his face was understanding and gentle, and his lips—oh Merlin, those lips—tipped up faintly in the ghost of a smirk, though his smile seemed faintly unsure. That look was almost her undoing. She wondered what she looked like to him. She felt…well, ravished was the word that came to mind. Draco was still staring at her like a man starving, and a tiny thrill went through her at the idea that she had been the one to make him look that way.

"I know you're scared," Draco said quietly, serious once more. "I am too. I'm bloody terrified. But it doesn't change how I feel about you. You say you trust me, then trust me when I tell you that this isn't some sort of game to me. I care about you. I value your friendship. But…" He hesitated, then pressed on. "I want more."

Hermione stared into Draco's elegant, earnest face, still slightly stunned from the intensity of his kiss, and tried to process his sudden declaration. It wasn't that she hadn't expected it on some level, at least, had hoped for it, but it was still a shock to hear him put into words the thing she'd most wished to hear from him.

His expression changed then, looking uncertain despite the surety of his speech. "If you're scared of me," he said at last, pain in his eyes even as his hold on her remained gentle, "if I'm moving too fast and you need more time, then I'll back off; but if you're just scared of this," he gestured between them, "know that you're not alone. Except I'm tired of pretending I don't feel the way I do about you, and so I'm putting it out there plainly for you to do with what you will." He lapsed into silence, face expectant as he waited for her response.

"I…"

Hermione found herself at a loss for words. She didn't know how to answer him because she didn't know herself how to express the tumult within her. Her heart soared to hear Draco confess he liked her, cared for her, wanted to be with her… and yet, now that he'd said it, made things real by speaking the words aloud, uncertainty threatened to overwhelm her. It wasn't that she didn't believe him, for conviction was evident in every line of his face, shining fiercely in his eyes, it was that she she knew how hard the future path would be for them.

Draco was looking uneasy now, and she watched as he swallowed hard, dropping his hand from her face as she stared up at him in silence. She could see him closing down, walls going up and a careful blankness smoothing his features, as if readying himself for a blow he knew would come, though not at which precise moment it would fall.

xXx

When Hermione just stared at him, stuttering and obviously searching for a way to let him down easy, Draco had to force back the crack he felt must be showing in his chest. Of course she wouldn't have him, he would never be good enough for her. As a friend, perhaps; a classmate, naturally; but as a boyfriend, a lover? He must have been mad.

He studied her face for a long moment, trying to memorize the way she looked standing in his bedroom, dressed in that glittering gown, her hair smoothed and curled, her face flushed, eyes bright, and lips…

He was glad he'd finally gotten to kiss her. If they had nothing else together at least he would always have this moment. Maybe he could extract it and relive it in the family pensive after Hermione left. Yes, nothing would be able to tarnish this moment they'd had. Not even having to live through the last six months of school with a broken heart.

"Hermione?" he asked into the silence of the room, his eyes steady on her face, not allowing her to hide. "What are you thinking?"

xXx

She was thinking the feel of his lips on hers had been one of the most mind-blowing experiences of her life. The way he held her both fiercely and delicately, the passion and rage and determination that he embodied electrified her and terrified her at the same time.

"I…"

Oh god, what did she say? Was she really ready to take this step?

"Th-thank-you," she went on, still a little in shock and trying to sort out her own mind, "for telling me h-how you feel."

There as a pause then as Hermione tried to gather her own courage. She knew how hard it must have been for Draco to say those words, for she now struggled for the very same ones. She could feel him watching her—her breathing unsteady, body trembling—even though her eyes were not on him. She had to look down to think, if she looked up she would be lost in his eyes and all reason would leave her once more. It was how she had lost herself in his kiss at the start. She did care for him too. Of course she did. But if she was ready to admit that then why was it so hard to say the words out loud like Draco had done?

"It's okay."

She looked up at the soft words, spoken quietly into the silence, and found Draco looking down at her with a sad sort of smile on his face.

"What?" she whispered, confused.

Draco lifted a hand and gently brushed a curl off the side of her face, staring at her as if memorizing her features. "I said it's okay. You don't have to answer me now, Hermione. Just do me a favour and promise to think about what I said. When you've figured out how you feel then come talk to me."

"B-but I…" She what? Hermione didn't know how she meant to finish that sentence so she let it trail away.

"Let's go back to the ballroom," Draco suggested. "Phil made me promise to save him a dance with you." He smiled slightly, though it looked somewhat forced, his expression a mystery to Hermione's searching eyes, and her heart gave a painful thump. Was she going to miss her chance again? Push this boy away until one day he grew tired of waiting and didn't come back?

Draco moved back, starting toward the door and towing her along behind him, his hand still holding hers. Hermione allowed him to lead her toward the door, feeling like she wanted to cry and sing and laugh and scream. And yet she was silent. How had this boy—this nearly-grown man—come to be so compassionate, so understanding, so… loving?… with the life he'd grown up in? Did she deserve him? Could she?

"Draco?" Hermione called, her voice breathless with terror and excitement in equal measure as they neared the door to the hall, and Draco stopped, releasing her hand and turning to face her, a question in his eyes. "Do…" she paused, feeling her cheeks flare pink. She took a step away from him, trying to to rally herself. "Do you really mean it?"

"Yes." His voice was firm, unwavering, and he was staring at her with a serious expression that she had rarely seen on his face. He reached for her hand again, his warm fingers curling around hers.

"I'm scared," she whispered, half ashamed to admit such a thing, but Draco didn't seem to mind.

He nodded. "I would be surprised if you weren't."

"I want to trust you," Hermione said softly, "it's not that I don't, not anymore, but this is a huge step to take."

"I understand."

Draco's voice sounded strange and Hermione forced herself to look up into his face. There was a certain tightness around his eyes and mouth, and she suddenly realized that he was expecting her to tell him no. That it was all too much. She knew that she had to speak then, now, or forever give up on anything between them, so she took a deep breath around her abruptly fluttering heartbeat and rushed the words out before she could swallow them back.

"I… I want more, too," she whispered, forcing her eyes to stay on his face. Heart pounding, she felt herself nearly sway from nerves. She'd said it. There was no taking it back now.

She watched Draco's face go perfectly blank for a beat as he stared at her, then slowly his expression relaxed, a grin unfurling on his lips. He took a step closer to her once more. "Yeah?"

Hermione ducked her head, embarrassed, and looked up at Draco through her lashes. "Don't make me say it again, Malfoy," she admonished him, trying to fight the smile that one word from him had brought to the surface.

"Is that a challenge?" came Draco's voice through the shadows as he moved closer to her, a teasing lilt to his tone. She could sense the smirk on his lips at this comment, then jerked her head up at the sound of the door behind him closing and latching once more, under one push from his hand.

Hermione moved backwards a step, almost tripping over her gown's long skirts. "Don't you dare, Malfoy," she warned him, and he chuckled, moving toward her with predatory glint in his eyes. "Don't make me get my wand!" she added, backing up another step.

Draco eyed her, smirking. "And just where would you be keeping that, Miss Granger?" he teased, advancing.

Hermione blushed as Draco stalked toward her, hardly able to believe how the evening had ended up here. She felt somewhat delirious from the abrupt shift in the night's events. Draco had feelings for her. He'd informed her expressly of his changed attitude toward their relationship. She'd admitted, out loud, to him, that she had feelings for him too. Her heart still pounded with uncertainty about what a future dating Draco Malfoy would entail, but that was a worry for another night. Tonight, though she felt dizzy with everything that had happened, was a night to let herself give-in to the magic of Christmas and the excitement and happiness of a new relationship. Of the potential for more.

xXx

"Come on, Granger," Draco coaxed, tugging her hand and pulling out of his room and down the hall toward the stairs. "Your friends will be worried about you. I promised to go find you and then neither of us ever came back. Aren't you concerned for your reputation?" He waggled his eyebrows at her, purely for the pleasure he got out of seeing her pale cheeks tint pink with colour. They'd only been in his room less than an hour from he time he'd first come upon her, but that didn't mean somewhere in the back of Draco's mind he hadn't been thinking of all the ways things could have gone wrong during that time, not only between himself and Hermione, but also in the ballroom below them.

"I'm coming, hold on!" Hermione said, slight frustration colouring her tone. She pulled her hand free and lifted it to her hair, attempting to retie her Butterfly mask and walk at the same time. Seeing this, Draco stopped walking and turned to move behind her, reaching to take the satin ribbons she was fumbling with from her hands.

"Allow me," he offered gallantly, nimble fingers tightening the ribbons and tying a neat bow. "All better," he said when he finished, then, unable to resist, slid his hands down over Hermione's shoulders and ducked his head so he could drop a feather soft kiss on the back of her neck. She gasped, a shiver gliding over her skin from his warm breath. He chuckled softly into her ear, grinning at the irritated huff she attempted in order to mask the blush he'd brought about. He smirked at her. Little did she know how much he enjoyed seeing her pink cheeks, and how much he would do to bring them to that state.

"Draco!"

He grinned down at her, unrepentant. "What?"

"Behave!"

"Never," he swore, smirking at her frown.

She huffed, reaching up to pat her hair. There wasn't really much need for her to do so, he hadn't really done much to her hair. In fact, after the confessions were finally out in the air, he'd only kissed her once more. When Hermione had said that she wanted more too, Draco had felt a lightness expand in his chest unlike anything he'd ever felt before. He'd had dozens of girlfriends over the years, but even with Pansy—the longest relationship he'd had, clocking in at a little under two years—he'd never felt this sort of happiness. Despite his teasing Hermione, he'd only backed her up toward the couch by his fireplace, then tugged her down to sit beside him. She was obviously nervous, he could see the way she trembled and tried to hide it from him, her breathing unsteady and rapid. His own hands felt slightly shaky, if he was honest with himself. It was easy to be confident when he'd had nothing to lose—when he'd bent to kiss Hermione earlier he'd put his whole body into it, in case it was the only time he'd ever get to do so—now, however, he had a real relationship to protect, and he meant to do everything he could to make Hermione feel safe with him.

As they'd sat down, Draco had felt ridiculously anxious, something he wasn't used to feeling, and for a long moment they'd both sat there in silence, sneaking glances at each other when they thought the other wasn't looking. Finally he'd asked her if she was still interested in helping with his Charm when they were back at school after the holidays.

Hermione had frowned in that consternated way she had, as if offended that he'd even had to ask. "Yes, of course," she'd said at once, seeming surprised. Then her expression shifted and she looked a little uneasy. "I'm a little ashamed to admit it, but I really thought that you might only be spending time with me in order to pick my brain for ideas you wanted to steal for your project."

It was Draco's turn to look embarrassed. He stared into the flames flickering in the elaborate iron grate in from of the giant white marble fireplace they sat in front of, then looked over at her. "You weren't precisely wrong," he admitted, then quickly added, "but it didn't take long for me to realize I wouldn't have any chance of claiming something you came up with as my own when there would be no way for me to prove it." He grinned at her, showing that he was mostly teasing. It really hadn't taken more than a session or two to see that his Charm would never have gone anywhere without Hermione's help. And he had known that he would never have been able to reconcile himself to taking full ownership of the creation without giving her credit. "Your brilliance is just one of the things I love about you," he said instead, and realized his choice of words had brought a brilliant blush to Hermione's cheeks. He'd had to resist bending her back over the couch then, as the need to kiss her rose up with a swiftness he was almost unable to hold back.

"Thank you," Hermione said, and smiled shyly at him. He knew that he had done the right thing in praising her brain first. Though of course he found her beautiful, he knew that Hermione Granger had never liked being lumped in with the crowd of girls who valued their looks over books.

They'd talked over the Charm for a few minutes, and then silence had fallen again. Looking over at her, Draco could see Hermione had withdrawn into herself. When she got in her own head it took a lot to pull her back again.

"Hermione?" he asked, reaching out to grip her hand atop her lap, where she'd curled her fingers into a loose fist in her skirts. "Are you ok?"

She looked up, blinking back into the present. "Sorry," she muttered, glancing at his concerned expression and then down at her lap again. "I just…" she paused, then continued, "I don't want to cause trouble between you and your friends. I mean, it's no secret that Slytherins hate Gryffindors. What will people say when they find out that we're…" She trailed off, blushing again and looking annoyed with herself. "I'm sorry, that's not fair. I know that not everyone in Slytherin hates us. And likewise I hope you know that not all Gryffindors dislike you—"

Draco snorted. "If I was a betting man, and, frankly, I am," he said delicately, "I would wager that there is exactly one person in Gryffindor who doesn't hate my guts and she's sitting next to me right now." At Hermione's pursed mouth and raised eyebrow he amended, "Perhaps, one or two others who wouldn't wish me into Azkaban, if they wouldn't still find pleasure in cursing me when my back was turned."

It was Hermione's turn to snort. At the tiny sound from her Draco couldn't help but chuckle. Hermione smiled slightly too. He squeezed her hand. "Look at us acting like the whole of Hogwarts revolves around us."

Hermione gave him a rueful smile. "You're right, it's not like anyone will care that we're… dating."

He didn't miss the hesitant way she said the word and moved a little closer to her on the couch. "Sod anyone who thinks they have a say in our lives." He met her eyes and held them, showing her that he meant every word.

"Pansy will hate it," Hermione said, and he could see that this bothered her. He knew that Pansy would be trouble, but no need to let Hermione know that he agreed with her.

"Sod her," Draco replied confidently.

"And Harry."

"Sod 'im too," Draco replied cheerfully.

"Ron will probably explode."

"Sod him especially," Draco said with relish. "The pillock," he added as an afterthought.

"Draco!" Hermione protested, and he laughed.

"I'm not dating any of them," he said in response to her admonishment. "I'm dating you. And as long as you want to be with me, I don't care what anyone else thinks."

Hermione grew more serious again. "What about your mother?" she asked, hesitantly, and Draco tensed slightly. "She won't mind that you're dating a… muggleborn?" Scepticism laced her voice and Draco sat back on the couch, dropping her hand and frowning.

"Bollocks," he muttered. "She'll probably threaten to disinherit me." When he saw Hermione's face begin to fall he quickly spoke on. "Good thing I'm past the age of maturity and and she has no say in my share of the family galleons then." He smirked at Hermione's look of indignation. "Relax, Granger," he said calmly, "my mother, for all her sins, has actually been working to, for lack of a better word, rehabilitate herself in the wake of my father's complete and utter humiliation. She did let me invite the whole senior class to this party after all. I think, with time, she'll come to accept my choice in girlfriends. As for my father, I could care less what he thinks. In fact, I work every day to do so."

"Right," Hermione said weakly, and though she worked to hide it, he saw her scepticism return.

"You think your parents will mind you dating a bloke from your magic school?"

Hermione gave him a prim look. "As long as you behave yourself, and treat me with respect, they don't care who I date. They were suitably impressed with Victor, my mum even cried when we broke up. My dad was happy though, he thought Victor was too old for me. He was worried he'd take advantage. Joke's on him though, Victor was so busy with Quidditch we didn't have time to get into any trouble."

Draco frowned. He didn't like picturing Krum and Hermione together. "He was definitely too old for you," he agreed firmly, and Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. Draco avoided her eyes. "Boys his age only have one thing on their minds," he muttered.

"You're the same age Victor was when we went out," Hermione pointed out. "Should I be concerned about your intentions?"

Draco jerked back to face her, ears burning, and sputtered. "W-what? I'm no where near as— Krum was a big-headed, self-absorbed Quidditch star, he thought every girl he dated ought to throw herself at him— I would never—" At the sound of Hermione's giggles he broke off and glared at her. "Nice to know you have such a high moral opinion of my character, Granger."

She lifted her chin, a smirk on her lips. "You did just snog me up against your bedroom wall."

He raised a perfect eyebrow at her, eyes glittering. "Can you blame me? I did come in here to find you sprawled wantonly across my bed." Hermione turned bright red and Draco smirked, back on solid ground once more. "Look, I want to try and make this work between us," he said seriously, "it would be great if our friends supported us, but if some of them don't it won't make me not want to date you."

Hermione looked at him a long moment. "I want to make it work, too," she said. "And, well, Ginny's been ok about things, for the most part," she admitted.

Draco eyed her shrewdly. "You've been talking about me?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You don't really lend yourself to being ignored, Malfoy."

Draco grinned. "What have you been saying? Were you pining for me all these months, just waiting for me to—"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Hermione said quickly. "I never said what we were talking about were good things."

"There are no bad things when it comes to my person," Draco cut in, leaning in closer to her and chuckling when Hermione tried to move away and fell onto her side on the couch. She squeaked when he leaned over her, his arms holding his body above hers as she tried to hold on to her prim, serious expression.

"Everything about you is bad," she protested, shrieking as he ducked toward her with a lascivious grin, but unable to push him away.

"And don't you forget it," he swore, kissing her swiftly but with enough intensity to leave her breathless when he finally pulled back.

xXx

"Hermione!" came Ginny's voice when she entered the ballroom once more, Draco a few steps behind her. He hadn't taken her hand or anything as they'd walked down the stairs and up the long hallway toward the rest of their classmates, but strolled beside her like a contented house cat that had just woken up from a pleasant nap and was ready to inspect its kingdom once more. Ginny looked relieved to see her, her eyes flickering over Hermione's shoulder to give Draco a once-over when he came up behind her. "Malfoy," she said, a little uncertainly.

"Weasley," he acknowledged, nodding at her.

"Is everything… uh, ok?" Ginny continued, looking between them with a confused air.

"I'm fine," Hermione said quickly, before Ginny could start to question Draco more fully. "I'm sorry I ran off. I just needed… to be alone for a bit."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Uh huh. And you and Malfoy spent the last half hour alone… together?"

Before Hermione could answer the rest of her friends descended upon them.

"Granger!" came Phil's relentlessly cheerful voice as he and Sylvia walked up to her. "Glad Draco was able to find you!"

"Yes, before something horrible befell you," Miguel added ghoulishly. "I've heard rumours about the curses and charms the Malfoy's put on their private property." He paused to eye her still slightly mussed hair. "It would seem that you had a narrow escape, perhaps?"

Hermione blushed and lifted a hand to her hair, glancing guiltily over at Draco who now stood beside her, his hands casually in his pockets. "Um…"

"Oh yes, a very narrow escape," Draco said dryly, his face completely blank, "but then we all know Granger isn't one for following rules these days."

"Certainly," Phil agreed, shooting Draco a shrewd look. "Just look at her relationship with you." Hermione felt her eyes widen as her mouth popped open. How could Phil already know? Was their new status so completely obvious? She tried to school her features as Phil glanced her way, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He was a sly one, made slier still by the fact that people so rarely thought of him as such with his generally jovial and slightly bumbling personality. "By which, of course," he continued blandly, "I mean her willingness to overlook the way scholastic society dictates our two Houses not mix." He dropped a wink in Hermione's direction where no one else could see. "Draco's made it clear his Charm project wouldn't have gone far without your help."

Hermione cleared her throat, wishing that everyone would stop looking at her. "Oh, um, right. Well, Draco's no slouch himself, really. If he applied himself the same way to all his classes he might even give me a run for the Student Cup."

Miguel hooted with glee at at her challenge and grinned at her approvingly.

Draco turned on her with only half-mock outrage with these words. "After that slap with a gauntlet, Granger, you'd better be prepared for one hell of a fight."

She smirked. "Ohhh, I'm quaking in my Oxfords, Malfoy."

He sent her a look that made her toes curl with the heat of it. "You better believe it," he replied, locking eyes with her until she shivered and tore her gaze away.

"Ahem," came Ginny's voice, and Hermione looked up quickly, willing the dim candlelight to hide her pink cheeks. Ginny's face behind her cat mask was calm, but her brown eyes glittered with mischief. "I'm sure we all look forward to seeing Hermione kick your arse off the top of the Wizard's Role of Honour, Malfoy, but that's fun for another day. For now, we still have an hour til midnight, why don't we try and salvage the rest of the night?"

"Agreed!" Miguel proclaimed, reaching out and taking Ginny's arm to tug her away form Harry. "And in homage to Granger's friendship with my esteemed comrade," he nodded toward Draco over his shoulder while pulling Ginny toward the dance floor, "I too will honour Slytherin - Gryffindor relations with a dance with my former enemy!" Harry spluttered and Ginny laughed, twirling in a circle to show off gown.

"Inter-house friendship is kind of your mantra, Harry," she called as she let Miguel put an arm around her waist and start up a waltz. "You really can't complain!"

Rolling his eyes, Harry turned toward Sylvia. "Want to dance, Melville?"

Sylvia smiled, then glanced over at Phil beside her. "Do you mind?"

Philip made a show of huffing a sigh and then waving her toward Harry. "Oh, go on," he said magnanimously.

Sylvia giggled at his gesture and then bent toward him and kissed his cheek quickly, turning Phil the colour of the Christmas punch. Hermione heard her whisper in his ear, "You're a duck, Phil, I'll make it up to you later," before taking Harry's offered elbow and heading toward the rest of the dancers.

Phil glanced over at the remaining group of people and held out a hand. "Shall we?" he asked politely, his cheeks still pink.

"Not bloody likely, mate," came Ron's annoyed response, and then Violet elbowed him in the side with a huff of annoyance.

"He was talking to me, Ronald," she said primly, reaching out a hand toward Phil's and smiling politely at him, ignoring Ron's grumbled "I know!" as she continued, "And I'd be delighted." She glanced over at Ron's expression and rolled her eyes at him behind her silverly mouse mask. "Don't be a prat, Ron. It's Christmas. Where's your holiday spirit?"

"Not with the Slytherins," he grumbled, but he stepped back and let her pass, glaring morosely after them as Phil led Violet to the floor and began to guide her rather impressively through the other dancing couples.

Hermione glanced between Ron and Draco for a moment, feeling uneasy between her former and current boyfriends. Draco stepped in, breaking the awkward silence with a wave at someone over Ron's shoulder.

"Fieldright," he called, waving a beautiful black girl in a striking red gown and mask toward them. "Do us a favour in the name of holiday cheer, love." He nodded over at Ron and Ebony looked Ron up and down, with an appraising eye.

"Oh, alright, Malfoy," she said at last, "but only because it's Christmas." She held out a graceful hand with glittery red nails, as if waiting for Ron to kiss her fingers. Ron stared at her, wide-eyed, looking as if his horror of mixing with a Slytherin was warring with the fact that Ebony was gorgeous and if he didn't accept her offer of a dance then he'd be left alone on the sidelines. Finally, in a surprisingly debonair move, he slid his hand beneath her palm and led her to the dance floor, leaving Hermione and Draco alone.

Feeling suddenly shy with all their friends paired off, Hermione fidgeted with her fingers, glancing over at Draco.

"Well, that went better than expected," he said at last, turning to face her. "Though Philip has a surprisingly devious mouth on him. He may do Slytherin proud yet."

Hermione flushed. "How did he know?" she asked quietly, glancing at Phil and Violet as they twirled past. Draco gave her a long look, his face somewhat embarrassed.

"He probably knew before I did," he admitted. "As I said, he's an observant fellow."

Hermione smiled softly, glancing up at Draco as hovered next to her, looking a little off-kilter. "I always knew I liked him," she said quietly, and enjoyed the way Draco's pale cheeks tinted at her words.

"He's not bad," he allowed, with half a grin, reaching for her hand and wrapping his long fingers around hers. "May I have the honour of this dance, Miss Granger?" he asked softly, starting to back toward the dance floor, eyes on her face.

"Oh, why not," she teased with a smile, "it's Christmas after all."

xXx

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