A/N: This has been my least favourite chapter so far; I'm really not happy with it and I struggled in being able to keep it going, and finding a place to finish it, but I really needed a section where he invites her...somewhere (shh). I hope everyone enjoys reading it more than I enjoyed writing it.

Hermione Granger does not see Draco Malfoy on Wednesday.

Hermione Granger does not see Draco Malfoy on Thursday.

Hermione Granger does not see Draco Malfoy on Friday.

Hermione Granger's first hopeful glimpse of Draco Malfoy even being alive comes on Saturday morning. By Saturday, Ron had (begrudgingly) stopped ignoring Hermione, and they are finally starting to get back to where they were in their friendship. Harry has become more comfortable around her now that Ron has started speaking to her again, and it makes Hermione annoyed to find out that she might not mean as much to Harry as Ron does. She follows the Gryffindor team to the Quidditch pitch, which is unbooked and free for them to train in until 2 o'clock, when the Ravenclaw team were booked for practice. The entire way there, Ginny tried to prise the name of her mystery man out of her, and Hermione had just smiled and rolled her eyes, refusing to let the ginger witch know a single thing.

When they enter the pitch, the team begins warming up and Hermione takes a seat in the stands to watch them. She holds a book by her side as she leans down to watch them on the pitch, and she sees them opening the chest containing the four balls. A sudden flash of green enters her peripheral, and she turns her head to see the other stands. The green appears again, on the other side, and again she turns to see nothing. When she faces forwards, someone suddenly swings down in front of her, making a yelp escape her. White blond hair points down towards the pitch, revealing a handsome pale face and stormy grey eyes. An upside-down grin is spread across their face. They aren't in their Quidditch robes; they wear a knitted green and grey jumper with black jeans. The only Quidditch gear they're wearing are their gloves.

"Hi." Draco Malfoy's voice is cool as he smiles at her. She doesn't smile back and his smile droops. "What, aren't you happy to see me?" He's still hanging off his broom, legs wrapped tightly around it, his hands almost bruising from the grip he has on the handle.

"Where have you been?" She hisses, hurt that he didn't even bother to try and contact her to tell her that he was alright. "I didn't know if you were hurt, or even dead. So much for until tomorrow when, in reality, you aren't going to even show up to so much as sneer at me for three days."

He flips himself right-side up, leaning back on his stirrups as he balances himself. He removes his hands from the broom handle and Hermione makes a squeak of fear. His eyes widen at the noise, and when he sees the alarm on her face he rolls his eyes, before taking hold of the handle with one hand – more for her sake than his. "I've been busy."

"Too busy to send a note?"

"So what if I was?"

"I was worried about you!"

"Oh, Miss Granger, I can't believe you admit to having feelings other than hatred for little old me." He presses his free hand against his chest in mock-shock, before pretending to swoon and drop upside down again, both hands now back on the handle. Hermione lets out another yell and he laughs.

"Stop doing that!" Her eyes are wide, and movement on the ground drifts her attention past him to the Gryffindor team, still warming up. Only Ginny was turned towards the two of them, her hand shielding her eyes from the blazing November sun. She squints at the pair of them but can't make out who the person on – or under – the broom from her place on the ground.

Malfoy follows Hermione's eyeline towards the girl stood on the ground and smirks, unhooking his right leg from the broom and swinging it back over so he's now gripping the broom with the backs of his knees. He takes his left hand off and waggles his fingers at Hermione as she watches, terrified. "Don't you dare-" His other hand comes loose and he drops, his legs secure on the broom. "Malfoy!" Hermione lurches forward, reaching for him, and she sees him swinging, suspended by his legs. She leans over the barrier to look at his face and he grins up at her, waving at her with both hands. She lets out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, her head drooping into her hands as she rests her elbows on the edge. From where Malfoy is hanging, he looks back towards the Gryffindors who are beginning to mount their brooms, and now the whole team has noticed the eighth person on the pitch. Ginny shoots off first, and as she rises off the ground, she makes eye contact with Malfoy, who smiles and gives a slight wave of his right hand. She gasps, eyes narrowing as she makes her way towards them.

"Hello little Weasley, how can I help you today?" Hermione's head flicks up, her hair in front of her eyes as she hears Malfoy greeting Ginny. Ginny pulls her broom around, regarding him with scorn as he stays hanging from the Nimbus 2001.

"Leave her alone why don't you, Malfoy." The words are practically spat at him and he laughs, reaching up to grab the handle and right himself. He leans back on the stirrups once more, running his hands through his hair (smirking when once again Hermione makes that squeak of fear) before placing one hand back down with a roll of his eyes.

"If she wants me to leave, then I will."

Ginny's eyes narrow. "Malfoy, go back to doing whatever you do now that your precious daddy's in prison."

He grows cold, sitting up straighter on the broom. "Listen here, Weasel-"

"Malfoy," he pauses, looking to Hermione and seeing the warning in her eyes.

"I'm sorry." The words are grumbled as he rolls his eyes at Hermione. She gives him a look that says play nice. "What I meant to say was-"

Ginny interrupts him with a shocked shout. "Oh, Merlin!"

"If I could finish a sentence for once that would be great…"

Ginny doesn't pay him any attention, she is just staring straight at Hermione, who is trying her hardest not to meet her friend's eyes. "It's him isn't it? The owl guy?" Hermione feels her cheeks begin to flush and senses Malfoy's smirk at the exchange. "Look at me, Hermione." She slowly lifts her head and looks at her friend, giving a toothy smile that said please don't kill me, Ginny, I'm sorry. Ginny shakes her head in disbelief. "Leave us alone for a second will you, Ferret." Malfoy frowns at the name, going to fire at Hermione that is he's not allowed to call her Weasel then she shouldn't be allowed to call him Ferret.

"Malfoy," Hermione's tired voice makes him stop. "Please?" He nods, flipping his broom upside down and diving to the ground. She shakes her head with a fond smile. He really trusted himself on that death trap.

"Oh my gosh…" Ginny's mouth is practically hanging open as the brings her broom closer to the barrier of the stand. "Please tell me it's not actually him."

"Gin, it's not-"

"How could you do that, Hermione? After everything? You're going out with Malfoy?"

"I'm not going out with him," she glances around, afraid in case Ron or Harry are in earshot of the conversation. "We're just…friends."

Ginny lets out a bark of laughter. "Oh, yeah, and I'm the Minister for Magic." Hermione rolls her eyes. "You can't be serious!"

"He's actually rather nice, Gin. If you would give him a chance-"

"Like his dads friends gave us? Like they gave Sirius?"

"That's not fair, Ginny. It's not his fault that that happened."

"How can you of all people believe he's changed, Hermione? After the years of bullying and ridicule and…what? Now you suddenly fancy him?" Hermione's cheeks flare the same red as Ginny's hair.

"I don't fancy him!" She takes a deep breath to calm herself down. "Look, he really seems like he's changed. You know I wouldn't have anything to do with him – I wouldn't be his friend – if he was the same jerk he always has been." Ginny folds her arms over her chest, then grips the broom handle with one hand when she sees Hermione's eyes bulge. It never fails to amaze Ginny how afraid of brooms and flying the other girl is. "Please, Gin. Give him… Give him five minutes. If he's a prat, then you're right, but if he's not you have to accept that he has changed."

Ginny considers it, then finally nods. "Fine. But if I do end up being right, you tell Harry and Ron." Hermione cringes, thinking about what would happen if the two did find out about her new relationship with Malfoy.

"Okay. Alright. I will." Hermione holds her hand out and Ginny shakes it, not breaking eye contact.

"You know I'm just trying to protect you, right?"

"Yeah, I know, Gin." a small smile plays across Hermione's lips, and Ginny doesn't notice that it doesn't reach her eyes.

Ginny turns and speeds back towards the players; Hermione watches Harry shaking his head at her and pointing to his wrist – like he's wearing an invisible watch. They begin practice and, just like during the real thing, Hermione loses track of the Quaffle quickly. Harry is on his broom off to the side watching to give them instructions. Ron floats around the goalposts, lazily watching the Quaffle jump back and forth before one of the Chasers tries to chuck it through. He kicks the Quaffle out of the way with ease, going back to his waiting and watching. Hermione gets bored quickly – not because she's an unsupportive friend, but because it's not as much fun to watch one team on the pitch as it was with two.

An upside-down face appears in front of hers and she shouts, nearly falling backwards if it wasn't for the pale hand that shot out and grabbed the front of her jumper, gripping the fabric in long, lean fingers. He grins a wide toothy grin. "This is a fun new way to scare you, Granger."

"Stop doing it!" She swats the hand that has hold of her jumper, then goes for his shoulder, and he swiftly dodges on his broom, still upside down.

"Why? The world's more fun this way around."

"Your hair is a mess."

"And? So's yours, but you don't see me saying anything." Hermione can't help the laughter that escapes her at his nonchalant statement. He rights himself again and, like habit, leans back on his stirrups to run his hands through his hair. He can see the desperation in Hermione's face as he takes a painfully slow time to adjust both gloves and pull his jumper down, before finally settling one hand loosely on the handle. She finally takes a breath. "Why don't you like it?"

"Why don't I like what?" She seems almost oblivious to what he's on about, and so he removes his hand again and she makes a whimper in the back of her throat. He sits up straight, perfectly balanced on the Nimbus 2001, but she doesn't care. It's like she thinks the only thing keeping a person safe on a broom is them keeping a tight hold.

"When I take my hands off the broom."

"It's dangerous."

"Why? You don't even use them."

"I still don't want you to get hurt."

"Well that's very kind, Miss Granger, but I can assure you I've been riding a broom for a very long time. I'm not going to-" He lets out a gasp as he tips sideways and Hermione screams, leaning over the barrier once more to see him upside down (yet again) laughing manically.

"Don't do that!" Hermione shouts at him as he flips himself back upright, still grinning.

"Okay, that was the last one, I'm sorry." He lets his broom drift over the barrier, and when he gets beside her, he lightly hops off the broom, keeping hold of it in his right hand. He leans against the barrier next to her, his body turned towards her, giving her his full attention. "So… Why don't you like it?"

"It's frightening, to think of falling. Of the broom dropping out from under you…" She shudders as she thinks of it. "I wouldn't want you to let go and not actually be safe; I don't want to see you get hurt or- I just want you to look after yourself."

He rests his chin on the end of the Nimbus 2001's handle, watching her intently. "You don't need to worry about me, Granger," she opens her mouth to argue with him and he cuts her off. "Granger, I'm a safe rider. I know what will hurt me and what won't. I know it doesn't seem like it," he smirks to her and she smiles gently back. "But, if you're going to trust me on anything, this is it."

She sighs and nods. "Alright. You can keep your silly stunts but…around me at least, can we have a one hand at all times rule?" He rolls his eyes but gives her a nod, placing his hand over his heart and winking. She takes that as a sealed deal.

"So, what did little Weasley have to say?"

"She thinks you're using me, basically. I told her you've changed, she said you can't have. So I said she has to spend five minutes with you without you being the little brat you normally are." His mouth drops open in offence, but his eyes are shining.

"You want me to be nice for five minutes? You and I both know that's four minutes too long."

"If you're not, I have to tell Harry and Ron about our…" she hesitates. "Friendship. And I don't think they'll react lightly."

She thinks over what Ginny had said to her. Did she have a crush on him? She can't – he's Draco Malfoy ; pure-blood extraordinaire, actual Death Eater… But he's changed, right? She shakes her head slightly, evaporating the thoughts.

"You okay?" She looks at him out of the corner of her eye; his head is cocked as he watches her deep in her thoughts.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know, you looked like you were in pain," he smirks lightly, his blond hair once again flopping in front of his eyes. "I was thinking you internally tormenting yourself for being head-over-heels hopelessly in love with me."

Her cheeks begin to burn red and he grins as she averts her eyes. "You can keep thinking that, Malfoy. But I am not in love with you." Liar liar liar.

He laughs and the corners of her lips twitch at the sound. He places the Nimbus on the floor as he pretends to be hurt by her words. "Gosh, I don't know what I'm going to do with myself – Hermione Granger doesn't love me!"

She shoves him gently by the shoulder and he shoves her right back. "Oh, Malfoy, you know that if I was, I'd just have to fight your other fifty girlfriends in order to have the tiniest piece of your affections."

"You don't think me spending every waking minute with your frizzy-haired, know-it-all self isn't already the entirety of my affections?" He pushes his hair back.

"You do not spend 'every waking minute' with me; you completely disappeared for three days!" She watches him running his fingers through his hair, slapping his hands away. "If you keep pulling it back, your hairline is going to recede. Do you want that?"

"Not really… And I told you, I was busy." He pushes himself up so he's stood balancing on the barrier, holding his right hand over his broom on the floor. "Up!" The sleek handle shoots into his hand.

"Are you leaving?" Hermione curses herself at the hurt in her voice. He looks at her with one eyebrow raised.

"Do you not want me to?"

"No, not really." She crosses her arms over her chest as he mounts his broom, still stood precariously on the railing.

"But they're back now," he sweeps his hand across the pitch at Ron – still guarding the goalposts – and Harry.

Harry Potter, who was watching the blond boy with a look of anger.

"He looks like he's going to kill me." Malfoy chuckles to himself, before seeing Hermione's panicked face. He sighs, positioning himself with both hands on the broom handle, now balancing on one foot as the other rests on a stirrup. "I'll go. Then you can say that I was tormenting you or something. Nothing out of the ordinary…" With a small salute to her, he lets himself fall. Hermione leans over the railing only for him to rush up past her, his warm laughter following him. She watches as he circles the stands for a second before diving and reappearing in front of her. His eyes are colder than normal, and she can see a plan shining behind them.

"There's a room, on the seventh floor corridor. Opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. It can-"

"The Room of Requirement?" She interrupts and he stares at her in confusion, before realising that she was part of the students that used the room the year before to train. He nods. "You want me to meet you at the Room of Requirement?"

"Well, if you're going to act like that…" He grumbles to himself and she backtracks.

"No, no, I didn't mean- Do you want me to meet you at the Room of Requirement?"

He shrugs, readjusting his gloves again, not looking at her. "I'm just saying, if you did want to spend more time together – as friends," he adds the second part quickly, suddenly feeling rather warm. "I might be at the room at 7 o'clock tonight. If you want to meet. Not that you have to. Obviously."

Past him, Hermione sees Harry start to fly across the pitch towards the two of them, most likely to confront and/or fight Malfoy. She smiles. "Well, I might also be in the Room. Maybe. If I want to."

They both smirk at each other, before she reaches out and pushes his broom away, making a shooing motion. Harry is almost on top of them. He understands, letting himself slowly drift away. "See you at seven, Granger." With that, he turns and dives for a final time.

Harry is too close for her to be civil, and so she shouts after him. "Yeah, bugger off, Malfoy." He reaches the floor, jumping off the broom and turning to mock pout at her, before grinning and waving. Harry's attention isn't focussed on him, and Harry looks over Hermione worryingly.

"Did he hurt you? What was he doing? What did he say? Do you want us to-"

"Harry, calm down. He was just winding me up, like always does. I know how to look after myself, I don't need you and Ron there to fight all my battles for me." She leans her elbows against the railing, watching out at the practice. "He was just being Malfoy."

Harry nods, mouth set in a line. "That's what I'm worried about. He's been acting…off ever since we came back this year. I know you think it's stupid, but I honestly do think he's up to something. I don't think it's too much of a stretch to believe that maybe with his dad out of the picture, Voldemort turned to him to be his new minion."

"Harry, don't say that!" Hermione stares at her friend in shock. "Honestly, it's bad enough to hear Ronald saying that sort of thing, and now you're jumping on the wagon with no evidence whatsoever."

"'Mione, he's always wanted to follow in his dad's footsteps. Now that he's in prison, it's the prime time for him to step up. He's up to something!"

"You don't know that, Harry!" She shouts back, making Harry's eyes widen. She's shocked herself, too; she has never spoken to Harry like that. "You can't just go around accusing people without an evidence! He might actually be suffering because of his dad's imprisonment, but no, you and Ronald just want to say he's a horrible person!"

"He is a horrible person!" Harry shouts back, his face becoming red as his anger rises.

"That doesn't make him a Death Eater!"

"Why are you even defending him? After everything he's said and done to you?" Harry snaps.

"Because I believe people can change, Harry. Until you or Ron come to me with evidence that he is actually a Death Eater, I don't want to hear it." She ignores the fact that she already has all of the evidence she needs.

"But-"

"Enough! We're done talking about this!" He stares at her with wide green eyes as she picks her book up from the seat behind her. "Harry, just give him a chance. Don't just assume the worst, because you haven't given him a second to prove himself."

"Fine," he swallows. "I'm sorry, 'Mione."

She sighs, running her hand through her hair and pulling at a few strands. "I'm sorry, too. I'm going to head to the library, get some work done," he nods, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "I'll come meet you guys at two?"

"Alright," he smiles at her, and she feels loved. Not in the same way as when Malfoy smiled at her – for Harry she feels the love one would feel for a brother. "I'll see you in a bit." He turns smoothly, retaking his place as referee. She watches him with a pang of guilt: she had just defended Malfoy against her best friend in the world. But it's what was right, wasn't it? Harry was being crazy, even if he was unknowingly correct, and even then, it doesn't mean he's allowed to treat someone like that on a suspicion – especially when, this year so far, Malfoy had done nothing to the trio. If anything, he'd been keeping his distance, until Hermione started talking to him.

She exits the stands quickly, tucking her hair behind her ears. When she gets outside, she almost runs headfirst into Malfoy's chest, but he puts his arm out to stop her before she collides with him. He's wearing a long-sleeved green shirt, with the same black jeans. His gloves are tucked in his back pocket, his Nimbus 2001 slung over his shoulder. "Honestly, Granger, do you never pay attention to your surroundings?"

She pushes his hand away with a smile, walking in step with him towards the castle. She is reminded of the last time she walked with him, almost exactly a week ago, and how much he has 'changed' since then. "Honestly, Malfoy, it's like you're stalking me."

He gives her a toothy grin, his perfect white teeth sparkling in the sunlight. "Who knows, Granger. Maybe I am." He wiggles his eyebrows at her and she lets out a snort of laughter.

"Yeah, right. You're waiting for the prime opportunity to turn me into one of your little minions."

"Well, not anymore. You've figured out the plan," he smirks. "Where are you off to without Golden Boy and Weasel then?"

"The library." She pauses, wondering if she should tell him. "Harry thinks you're a Death Eater. I didn't tell him, I promise," she adds quickly as she sees his eyes widen. She draws a cross over her jumper. "Cross my heart. I couldn't listen to him go on about it anymore, especially when he has no proof and he's just spouting harmful accusations simply because he doesn't like you."

He rubs the back of his neck slowly, thinking of what to say now. "Why does he think I am?"

"Because you've been acting different," Hermione rolls her eyes. "Even though that different is good as you haven't antagonised them all year – so far – he still finds a way to turn it bad."

"Why didn't you just tell him?"

"It's not my secret to tell." She smiles up at him, and he smiles back.

"Well… thanks, Granger."

"Did you really think I was going to tell them?"

He lets out an exaggerated exhale. "Well, Granger, I wouldn't know how good you were at keeping your mouth closed." He gives her a wicked grin as her mouth falls open.

"How dare you, Draco Malfoy – I do not talk that much!"

"I'm sorry I can't hear you over you being a chatterbox."

She swats for him playfully and he jumps out of the way, now walking backwards, facing her. The Nimbus is now slung across both shoulders like a carrying pole, his hands gripping either end loosely.

"What's that? The sweet sound of silence from Granger's voice?" He winks at her to show he's only playing, and her cheeks burn.

"If either of us talk too much, it's you, Malfoy." She reaches forward and pokes him in the centre of the chest.

"I'm offended you think I talk too much – I can barely get a word in edgewise around you."

They enter the castle, grinning at each other like a pair of loonies. She thumbs the pages of her book as they stand in the Entrance Hall, and she points over her shoulder. "I'm just going to…"

"Library?"

"Yep, that's where I'm off." She sounds like an idiot. Why does she sound so stupid? Why does being around him make it so difficult for her to form real sentences?

"Okay, let's go then." He moves past her, not touching her, down the corridor towards the library.

"Where are you going?"

"We are going to the Library, Granger. Do keep up."

She smiles to herself as she watches how at ease he is as he walks through the castle.

"And why are we going to the library?"

"Isn't it obvious?" A crease appears between his brows as he looks down at her. She's staring at him with wide brown eyes.

"Not in the slightest."

"Because, Miss Granger, I enjoy spending time with you."