A/N: :( Sorry this chapter is so short today, I haven't had much time to sit down and actually write much today, so I hope this short and sweet chapter is enough to satisfy until tomorrow! Lots of love to you all and I hope you enjoy :)

Malfoy stops walking when he hears footsteps running up behind him, stopping down the corridor. He doesn't know whether he should turn, and so he just waits, hands clenching and unclenching by his sides as he listens for more movement. After about thirty seconds, the person begins a quick walk towards him, calmer than before. He spins round angrily, ready to flare up at them for following him, and his frown softens just a tiny bit as he sees Hermione approaching him. "What do you want, Granger?" Her eyes seem to brighten a tiny bit, even his glowering face seemed to make her smile that slightest bit wider. She breaks into a run, colliding with him at full speed. The breath knocks from his lungs as she wraps her arms around his waist, holding him tightly to her, pressing her cheek against his chest.

Her eyes close as she sighs, squeezing him tightly. He stands in shock, his hands held up as stares down at the girl clinging on to him. Finally, he lowers his arms, hugging her (not as tight) back, his pointed chin resting on her head, and he feels the coil inside his chest begin unravelling, bit by bit. She pulls away, grinning up at him. "I have something to tell you. I-"

He folds his arms coldly across his chest, his eyebrow quirking up as he sneers. "It better be I'm sorry for calling you annoying, spoilt, and a prick, otherwise I don't want to hear it."

She smirks at him, mimicking his folded arms and quirked brow. "Draco Malfoy, I am so terribly sorry for calling you annoying, and spoilt, and a prick, at a time when you were acting annoying, and spoilt, and like a prick."

"Okay – that's not a good apology." He shakes his head, turning to continue on his way down to the dungeon

"Oh, Draco, please!" She drops the act, grabbing onto his wrist. "I really am sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, I-"

He holds his hand up, brow creased, a tinge of pink appearing on his cheeks. "Wait, stop." She pauses, confused. "What did you just call me?"

Where Malfoy's cheeks went pink, Hermione's went beet red. "Oh, I-I didn't mean…"

"Granger," he interrupts her. "Stop. Talking. It's fine." He gives her a smirk. "It was just rather unexpected, that's all. And, you're forgiven – for the annoying, spoilt thing."

They stand there in a comfortable silence for a few moments, her hand still on his wrist as they seemingly forget where they are. Malfoy remembers what had initiated their current meeting, and (being a nosy little sod), he opens his mouth. "So, Granger, what was that thing that you were going to tell me?"

She drops his wrist like a hot coal, cheeks blazing. "I- Well…" She doesn't know whether she should tell him about her revelation. She should, shouldn't she? It's the sort of thing you tell people – that you're in love with them – to maybe speak it into existence, if he feels the same way. But, if he doesn't, what then? She'll be left humiliated, possibly tearing her entire group apart if the secret was released.

"Nothing, I just remembered reading something, and I thought I would tell you." He rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

"Of course it's something you've been reading," he slings his arm around her shoulder as they begin a slow walk down the corridor. "Little Miss Hermione Granger, never without her nose in a book." She hits him lightly on the stomach, instantly pulling her hand away as she feels the hard muscles underneath his shirt, her mind wandering back to seeing him undress in the Slytherin changing rooms.

Get a grip, Hermione!

"Granger? Are you even listening?"

"Sorry," she shakes her head as though she's waking herself up. "What were you saying?"

He chuckles softly, dropping his arm from around her shoulders, making her heart burn. Please put it back, her brain whispers, and she curses herself for being so weak. Her – Hermione Jean Granger – acting like this over a boy!

"I asked if you were going to tell me what it was that you'd been reading."

"I…" She struggles to make up a believable lie on the spot. "Well, it wasn't something I read read, like in a book. It was a…" A leaflet? A note? Graffiti? "A letter. From my parents." She mentally smacked herself – she wanted to tell him she'd read something in a letter from her parents? You stupid girl – like that's not going to raise any questions.

He frowns slightly, confused. "You want to tell me something you read…in a letter? From your parents?"

Look what you've done!

"I- Well-" She stammers, trying to think of something – anything – to say that will save herself from his scrutinising gaze. "They asked if you'd like to stay over Christmas?"

They asked WHAT?

His eyes widen as he takes a sharp breath. "They… Okay. Do they even know who I am?" Finally, a question she is able to answer.

"Oh yes, they know all about you." She nods, prideful in herself for being able to answer something truthfully. "They know that you hate muggles, that you bullied me, and that your father is in jail." She realises what she's saying and clamps a hand over her mouth, screaming at herself – you didn't need to be THAT truthful, idiot!

He takes a harsh laugh. "Not exactly the best impression is it, Granger? So why exactly are they inviting me for Christmas?" He's seeing through her lies, picking them apart one by one. She wishes she had the sass of Harry, or the lying ability of the twins. But she doesn't.

"I… I told them about how well we've been getting on these past few days."

"And suddenly that makes up for six years of tormenting you?"

"They were against it at first… But I asked them to give you a chance?" Why is everything coming out like a question? Can she not make one sentence seem believable?

He laughs again, this time lighter, more towards her awkward facial expression than the words she can't stop herself from spewing. "Well, I just might take your parents up on that offer." He winks at her as they hit the entrance to Slytherin dungeon. "You know, now you've brought up the idea, I'm rather looking forward to it." The colour drains from her face as she realises that he's played her – now she has to actually arrange for her bully, the one she spent holidays crying about, to come to her house over Christmas as a friend.

"Great!" She forces a smile, swallowing her fear of asking her parents. "I'll see you at seven, at…there… And in the meantime, I guess I'll owl my parents and let them know know you'll be happy to join us."

"Oh, Granger," he shouts after her, giving her back a wicked grin as she starts walking back down the corridor (looking like she's going to throw up), back to Gryffindor Tower. "I'm ecstatic."