Chapter 5: Tardo Incendium

Dumbledore was pleased to see that the Head Boy and Head Girl seemed to be working together much better. He knew it would work out somehow. There was a twinkle in the old wizard's eye whenever he saw them but when McGonagall asked him why, he simply said, "Minverva, whatever do you mean? Have a lemon drop?"

The first semester passed quite uneventfully after that incident. Fortunately, Hermione never arrived in their common room to find Draco lying on the floor groaning in pain again. She realized that for two weeks after that incident, she almost had a phobia of opening their room door, she had horrible images of Draco being whipped by Lucius in front of their fireplace. Her dreams had been troubled by the same images too except now, Lucius changed into Voldemort and then Draco's face changed into Lucius'.

Draco was cordial to her after that weekend where she had saved him. In public, he still called her Granger but in their rooms or when they were alone, he made it a point to call her Hermione. She kept up the charade too. It wasn't hard what with Harry and Ron constantly making fun of Malfoy behind his back- funny how she hadn't noticed how often they did it before.

Lessons progressed at a frantic pace. The Final Years were all a bit tense because this was the year they would take their NEWTS. For Hermione, this meant more study than usual and she finally seemed to be having an influence on Ron and Harry who, for once, could spend more than an hour in the library poring over books without losing their patience.

The other person who was frequently in the library was Draco Malfoy. At first, he had brought his goons Crabbe and Goyle with him but since they could hardly read, they soon tired of this and stopped following him there. Then Pansy and Millicent seemed to think it was a good opportunity to get him alone and could always be found sitting on either side of him in the library. They were soon banned by Madam Pince however when Draco complained to her of their loud giggling and whispering.

One day, after one such studying session in the Library, Hermione felt all choked up from staying inside the castle so long. Snow or no snow she was going to go for a walk by the Lake. She refused Harry and Ron's offers to accompany her and went to fetch her winter cloak. Soon, she was walking by the semi-frozen lake all by herself. Her breath came out in little steamy clouds in front of her. Brr, it was cold. Hermione never could take the cold very well, but her brisk pace soon warmed her up.

It was a relief to be away from the castle for the first time in weeks. She found a flat rock and sat down and wrapped her arms around herself. Then, for the first time in about a month, Hermione Granger allowed herself to indulge in thoughts about Draco Malfoy.

She thought of how she had seen his muscles under his shirt when she lifted him against the couch. How she had healed him that night, rested her hand on his chest as she muttered a healing charm over his ribs. How his skin was warm beneath her fingers.  She remembered how she had wanted to hold him in her arms and soothe him when she had watched over him that night, changing his towel poultice with great care until she herself had fallen asleep.

She allowed herself a naughty memory of how it felt to wake up curled in his arms, her leg over his. "Awake, sleepy?" she heard him drawl. How he had told her "Do you know you babble when you're nervous" and then asked her "Why are you nervous, Hermione?"…she had wanted to kiss him then. Then, and oh the best memory of all, the happiness she had felt when he had said, "To have love. Acceptance." That was the right answer Malfoy. Damnnit, it was the best answer ever. If you had said something different I might have been able to put it all out of my mind. I am attracted to you and your answer gives me a chance to love you! If only you had said something evil or mean. Then you wouldn't be tormenting me for weeks and WEEKS!

Oh Hermione, she thought. What's going on? Why do you feel like this? He doesn't feel the same about you, you know. And anyway, he's a SLYTHERIN, they can't be trusted. What are words said in a rush one Sunday morning compared to six years of torment? But, another voice in her head reasoned, you know he wasn't lying. You could see it in his eyes.

What do I know? And what good will it do even if it was the truth? Okay, so he's not that bad, but you don't want to get all mixed up with a boy in your Final Year do you? You're Head Girl, Hermione. Everybody knows that girls who try to save Bad Boys always lose in the end. You're a silly adolescent as bad as the all those Slytherin girls. You're wrong. I love him and I'm pretty sure he loves me, she whispered loudly, as if to convince herself.

Well, it wasn't like he'd done anything *much* since that incident to show that he felt the same way about her. Certainly they had never been as physically close as they had been that night or that morning. Both had seemed a little embarrassed about it. But he still called her Hermione. And he had never called her a mudblood since that day either. Sure, he taught her how to play Wizard's Chess every weekend, and they talked much more now, but no mention was ever made of anything less than professional.

But then there was the Yule Ball gossip and how everyone said that Malfoy had a secret love he was bringing there who he met a month ago. It had happened because one day, Snape had caught Draco Malfoy doodling in his Potions textbook and had confiscated it only to read out the whole paragraph to the class, as he always did when he caught notes being passed or doodling taking place.

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"Will you do me the honour of accompanying me to the Yule Ball? Will you go to the Yule Ball with me? If you've nothing better to do, would you go to the Yule Ball with me? It would give me great pleasure if you would accompany me to the Yule Ball, Miss…"

Snape had the tact to stop there and he raised an eyebrow at Draco who looked as if he might collapse at any moment.

"Very interesting, Mr Malfoy. I'm sure all this practice will stand you in good stead- personally I prefer line number 2. Although if you do not pay attention in the rest of my classes, your *charming* lady friend won't have the pleasure of your company at the ball because you will be scrubbing cauldrons with me on that night. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Professor." Said Draco, looking relieved that he hadn't read out the name of the girl. He took the book back from the Professor and charmed the words off.

Pansy tittered loudly and whispered fiercely to Blaise Zabini.

"Oh Miss Parkinson," Professor Snape couldn't resist taking a swipe at one of the most annoying and stupid students in the class-"just to let you know, it wasn't your name in Mr Malfoy's book."

Pansy's mouth fell open in dismay as most of the other students, including Malfoy, sniggered loudly. Turning red and crying, she ran out from the class.

"Let us continue with the lesson."

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  Pansy Parkinson was particularly caustic about it, telling everyone she was sure that whoever the girl was, it was a hag in disguise who had used a love potion on her Draco. Hermione had a strange, fluttery feeling whenever she thought about this piece of gossip. She felt sure she knew whose name was in his book.

"Blast you, Malfoy!" she cursed as she gathered her cloak around her and stood up. "This is your last chance. If you don't do what I think you want to do by today, I will *give up* on you!" Having given vent to her feelings and made up her mind, she turned round quickly and walked back to the castle.

Back in their common room, Malfoy wasn't having a much better time. Where the hell was Hermione? It was late in a winter's afternoon and she should not be wandering outside the castle in the dark. He had made up his mind to ask her something *very important* tonight. He had worked himself all up to do it for the last three weeks and had finally decided to do it tonight, but *where in the world was that girl*? What if she had fallen into the lake? Or got lost in a snowstorm? Or worse, what if Lucius had…

He took a breath to calm himself. Okay, so he was worried about her. That wasn't so bad right? He was Head Boy, he was *supposed* to worry about students- even if she was Head Girl. A Head Girl with beautiful chestnut hair and honey-gold eyes, whose soft hands had healed him and who had put aside her prejudices to sit by his bed all night tending to him. Aargh! Damn you Granger, what are you doing to my mind?

Where are you, dammnit. It got dark at 3 pm and you're not here it's five now and I can't find you *anywhere*. He was losing courage about asking her his *very important* question. If she didn't turn up soon, he knew he might chicken out all together,

But then again, what if it wasn't her fault? What if she was lost in the Dark Forest? Or trapped under a rock?...He had almost made up his mind to go and look for her himself when she walked calmly into the room.

"Where the *heck* have you been?!" he burst out.

She looked mildly surprised. "Oh, outside taking a walk by the lake. Why?"

He turned purple. "You're Head Girl. You should be setting an example to the younger students and not go wandering around in the dark after school hours!"

Hermione felt vaguely ashamed. Yes, it was against the rules. "Sorry. I'm safe right? I won't do it again."

Draco slowly turned back to his normal colour. "Yeah well, okay. Just don't do it again cause, 'cause I was kind of worried about you…Potter and Weasley would hex me into the next century if they think I'd done something to you."

She smiled and dropped into the sofa in front of the fire.

"And Hermione?"

"What?"

"Well…" he stood stiffly in front of the fire in front of her. God, this was worse than when Lucius had asked him to wrestle a manticore with his bare hands.

"Draco, are you all right?" her honey eyes looked concerned. "Maybe you should sit down, you look faint."

"Hermione I…will you go to the Yule Ball with me?" he said the words all in a rush in case he lost the nerve. Now she would think him an idiot. She would think that just because she had looked after him for one night, he was suddenly enraptured by her.

Dammnit! He was! But that wasn't the point. He felt a need to explain, "you see Hermione, I'm really grateful for how you looked after me that night and the stuff …you know, we talked about that morning. And it was nice of you to get me breakfast and dinner AND supper and all…And I know I've been a bit cold lately but you know I have stopped calling you a mud – that name – and I have tried not to call Weasley a Weasel. So I was thinking that since your parents are away for Christmas and we're both here and Potter's got that Ginny girl and Ron's got tons of others that you and I being friends, I mean, we *are* friends aren't we? You know, being friends, we could go together."

Hermione looked stunned.

Oh no, though Malfoy, she's going to laugh at me. Or scream at me.

"Draco," she said, turning red. He made a strangled sort of sound in reply-"…do you know *you* babble when you're nervous?"

Then Hermione Granger rushed into his arms where he held her so tightly it nearly hurt.