"The Black Lake?"

"No, too open."

"The library?"

"No, she'd likely get distracted by all the books."

"Touché. What about here?" Theo asked, gesturing to the Room of Requirement. "It's secluded, isn't filled with books and it's romantic."

"Romantic?" Ginny asked. "Oh, right, it will change to our needs. Yes, it's perfect to ambush Hermione and Draco in. Now we just need to get them here."

Over the past week, the two had struck an unusual alliance. Since with this Wizarding World Work Experience, or WWWE, as students were abbreviating it to, neither of their friends had approached the other about their kiss and it's subsequent consequences. Being in a room with them was painful, like a childhood haircut or watching paint dry. Ginny had experience with both, and could attest to their horridness.

"It won't be easy," Theo commented dryly, picking up his bag.

"Of course it won't," Ginny agreed. "If it was any other two people, they wouldn't even need outside intervention. But they're stubborn."

Theo shook his head. "No, they're scared.

Life's not a fairytale, Ginny. Love isn't a fairytale, not lie how it was with you and Harry, riding off into the sunset on his Firebolt or whatever. We don't have that security, that unfailing belief that everything will turn out alright in the end, so long as you stick with it. As Purebloods, and I mean Pureblood Purebloods, love isn't a factor of life. Marriage is a transaction, like going to the shop and picking the best oranges they have, even if you wanted lemons. It's been that way for hundreds of years, this idea that love isn't important for having a successful and fulfilling life, but that money and stability are. And there is nothing wrong with wanting those things, but they're not all there is. And Draco knows that; he's always been a dreamer, even if he didn't know it himself."

"But Hermione doesn't believe in any of that stuff," Ginny argued, twisting around in her chair.

"No," Theo acquiesced. "But I'm sure she's read all about it, that her and Draco have discussed it. No matter that we're almost in the 21st century, traditions don't change with the times."

"Which is why this is so important. They deserve to be happy."

"Of course. But Ginny, if we do succeed, things are going to get bad very quickly, you do realize that? Being friends is one thing, but being in a relationship... that's a whole other basket of Mandrakes. It could get ugly."

"Then we'll be there for them and punch anyone in the face who tries anything," said Ginny defiantly.

"I don't doubt that, certainly not on your part. I've seen you in action: you're pretty formidable."

"Damn straight. Being the only girl in a house full of boys, you learn to be pretty formidable. Any someone has to be able to keep up with Harry and talk some sense into him."

Theo laughed, the sound surprising her. She didn't think she'd ever heard him laugh. "Touché. Speaking of family, I'm sorry, about your brother. I'm sure that wasn't easy."

Ginny nodded, watching the fire out of the corner of her eye. "He came by for Christmas, as if we'd be happy to see him. It went about as well as you can imagine. Stupid git," she muttered under her breath.

"I don't have any siblings, but I can imagine that it must be tough, having to put up with watching someone you care about making reckless and hurtful decisions."

"It is hard," she acknowledged. "And yeah, sometimes, you wish you weren't so close, so that it wouldn't hurt so damn much. But after Fred... at the end of the day, he's still my brother, and I'd still drop everything if he needed me. Because that's what family is." Ginny swiped at her eyes, her thumbs glistening with tears.

She hated crying in front of people, especially ones she didn't know that well. "My personal drama aside, have you decided what you're doing for your WWWE?" Ginny asked, determined to change the subject.

Theo shook his head. "Not a clue. You?"

"Quidditch," she breathed instantly. "Anything, so long as it's to do with Quidditch."

He chuckled. "That's quite a broad area; you could end up cleaning brooms for all you know."

"Then I'll spend my time cleaning brooms for some of the best players in the world, then," Ginny replied. "But, in all seriousness, I've written to the Holyhead Harpies, and they offered a trial tutoring experience, getting used to playing in a team and all that."

She'd gotten the offer this morning, jumping onto Hermione's bed, throwing pillows in her friend's face until she woke up. At first, she'd been a little upset, but had quickly shifted her manner once she read the letter Ginny had been brandishing in her face. The whole Gryffindor common room had cheered for her, and Luna had been ecstatic at breakfast.

Ginny tilted her head. "What do you like?" she asked.

At his inquiring eyebrow, she elaborated. "Well, you must have a favourite subject: everyone does."

"I like Potions," Theo said after a contemplative moment. "Like, experimenting with them, changing recipes for the maximum results."

"I'm sure there's loads of Potions positions you could look into. What's Draco doing? Hermione hasn't said."

He shook his head. "Poor mate hasn't decided. He's probably making pros and cons lists as we speak."

Ginny laughed. "They are perfect for each other, aren't they?"

"They sure are."


Draco lounged in his comfiest chair in his room, sleep a distant dream, mounds of haphazardly stacked parchments surrounding him like the moat of an ancient castle. Ever since his sixth year, when he couldn't sleep, when his mind was too full of thoughts about protecting his parents and the consequences if he failed his task, he'd often dived into his schoolwork. He wouldn't have been able to stay ahead that year if he hadn't had these late night sessions.

He had several ideas picked out for his placement, pros and cons made for each, every thought logical and clinical to the extreme. But none of them felt right. If he was being honest with himself, he hadn't expected to live long enough to think about what work he would take after leaving Hogwarts. When Draco was younger, he'd just assumed that he'd follow in the footsteps of his father, and so had everyone else. Now, however, it was down to him to find that perfect fit, and while it was only just a placement, Draco didn't want to miss a good opportunity and pick something he wouldn't enjoy or find useful at some point.

Draco sighed, the sound of the weary and exhausted, and got up from his chair, back creaking as his spine re-aligned. Instead, he left his room, needing a change of scenery. Stepping out if the dungeon, he walked around in lazy circles, thinking about all the jobs he knew, the subjects he'd liked and where his own strengths were. He had just turned a corner when he found a student, huddled in a forgotten alcove outside the Infirmary, his robes tucked around him in lieu of a blanket, strawberry-blonde hair sticking out of the top. Draco checked his watch, frowning: it was nearly eleven. No first year should be up so late. Making tentative steps, Draco walked up to them slowly, crouching down in front so that he was on level with the boy's eyes.

He'd always hated standing in front of his father, having to look up at him, this looming shadow of a man who looked so much like him, or Draco would look like him, once he was grown.

"Hey," he whispered gently. "Hey, are you alright?"

The boy sniffled, embroidery on his robes catching the light. He was a Ravenclaw.

"No," he wobbled out, lip trembling.

"Well, would you tell me what happened? I might be able to help."

The boy looked up at him, blue eyes shining with unshed tears. "I have this friend, in Slytherin, and she's really nice, and these kids were picking on her, since her parents were on the opposite side of the War, and I told them to stop, to leave her alone, but they wouldn't and they... they hit me, in the face. And it really hurt. And my friend, Sarah, she tried to help, but she's not very good with healing magic, so she got my older brother, who's a Gryffindor, and he said that I was being a baby, that I shouldn't have stood up for her in the first place, that I deserved to get hit, especially if I couldn't fix it myself. And then I came here, but I'm scared to go in. I don't want to get in trouble."

Draco's blood was boiling, but he said as calmly as he could, "Why would you possibly get in trouble?"

"Because one of the kids was in Gryffindor, too, and I called him some names, and I don't want to report it, and me and Sarah get in trouble."

"I see," Draco said, the chill of the floor seeping into his trousers. "Well, here's what I suggest. I can fix your nose, but I'd still suggest going to see Madame Pomfrey, just to be sure. Then, I'd suggest talking to your friend, and going to a teacher. Has this happened before?"

The boy nodded. "Yeah, but I've never got hit in the face before. Sarah said I was really brave."

Draco smiled, thinking about his own experience with being punched in the face. "I bet you were. Right, this is going to hurt, but it will be only for a second." After a moment, Draco tilted his head, tone considerate. "If you want, you can hold my hand," he offered, "if it will help."

"You won't think less of me?" the kid asked, voice uncertain.

Draco shook his head vehemently. "No, no of course not. Even grown ups need someone to old their hand."

"Really?"

"Really really. Now, are you ready?"

The young boy nodded, gripping Draco's left hand in his right. Draco got out his wand and murmured, "Epiksy," the nose correcting itself to it's usual shape. The poor kid took it like a champ, letting go of Draco's hand and touching his nose in wonder.

"You fixed it!" he said, complete and utter awe in his voice. "That's so cool!"

"That's magic for you," Draco grinned.

The boy stuck out his hand. "I'm Kyle. Kyle Bray."

He took it. "Draco. Malfoy," he added after a pause.

Kyle didn't even blink. "I thought you'd be taller," was all he said, evoking a genuine laugh from the kneeling Slytherin. "You're best friends with Miss Granger, aren't you?" Kyle asked him.

Draco nodded, unable to keep the pride out of his voice as he replied, "She is indeed."

"You know, it was actually you two who helped me and Sarah become friends. We were partners in Potions, but she was scared I wouldn't want to talk to her, because she was a Slytherin and all. But seeing the two of you together, she said it inspired her, how we all have more in common than we realize and everything. So, thanks, I guess, for giving people hope. And fir the nose."

"You're most welcome," Draco said, getting to his feet. "So, are you going to go get checked out?"

Kyle nodded. "I am." He wiped his face on his robes, then got up, throwing his arms around Draco in a split second. "Thanks, Draco. I think you're a nice guy, despite what everyone says about you. You're great at healing," he said, letting go.

Draco resisted the urge to ruffle the kids hair, or run away very fast and cry in a corner. "That's really sweet of you to say, mate. Now, stay out of trouble. And don't let other kids get you or Sarah down, and the next time your brother's mean to you, let me know, and I'll have a talk with him."

Ideally of the hexing variety. Merlin, Hermione was going to have a fit when she found out. She would likely hex the git herself. Draco wouldn't mind paying money to see that. "Awesome," Kyle murmured, walking up to the Infirmary and giving Draco a wave as he opened the door, which Draco returned gladly.

He spun on his heel, practically running to the Gryffindor common room. Draco knocked once, twice, then four times, a secret knock Hermione had suggested if he ever wanted to see her while she was there. After a tense moment, the door swung open, the Fat Lady huffing in disapproval. Hermione was frowning slightly, although her eyes were bright, Crookshanks sitting in her arms.

"Draco, what is it? Is everything alright?"

He beamed, throwing his arms around her, the cat dropping to the floor with an agitated hiss. "Everything's great!" he told her, letting her go but keeping his arms around her shoulders. "I finally know what I want to do!"


At breakfast the next morning, Hermione sat at the table, stabbing her scrambled eggs violently as Draco recounted last night's events. To say she was incensed, ashamed, and extremely murderous was an understatement. Most of the time, she was proud to be a Gryffindor. This was not one of those times. The fact that Draco sat beside her was a statement in itself, and she ignored the pointed looks and whispered as she had all her life. Draco hardly seemed to notice, he was practically bouncing with excitement. It was wonderful to see. He deserved it, probably more than almost anyone she knew.

Hermione interrupted the end of his story, putting her hand on his arm. "I'm really proud of you," she said softly. "And I think this is a great idea. I think you'd be a lucky addition in the St Mungo's Paediatric Department."

He squeezed her hand on his arm. "Thanks, Hermione. That means a lot."

Just before class, Headmistress McGonagall came up to Draco at the table, not even blinking at his change of seat. "Mr Malfoy, I just wanted to say how happy I was about receiving Madame Pomfrey's note about you helping out Mr Bray. The young lad wouldn't stop talking about how nice you'd been. Now, if it isn't too presumptuous, I thought that for your Wizarding Works Work Experience, you might like to work at St Mungo's in their Paediatric Department, if this is something you want to pursue in future."

Draco nodded. "It is, Headmistress. I was actually going to ask you about it today."

McGonagall smiled. "I'll contact them myself as soon as I get a chance. I think this is a great step forward for you, Mr Malfoy. Carry on."

With that, she left, making her way through the bottle neck of students with practiced ease. "We've got a free lesson next," Draco reminded her. "Do you want to hit the library?"

This free lesson was due to Defense Against The Dark Arts, which was now an optional subject for students in the sixth year and up. The Board of Governors had decided that, given the events of the last few years and the actions of Voldemort and his Death Eaters, some students may not want to be reminded of such things. Most hadn't signed up for it, including Draco and Hermione.

She nodded, finishing off the last of her orange juice. "I do. I want to see if Madame Pince has got in any new stock from over Christmas."

Draco rolled his eyes, wiping away a bit of pulp she'd somehow managed to smear on her cheek.

Hermione didn't breathe. They still hadn't talked, the two of them, about New Year's. Shed tried to, on multiple occasions, but the words just couldn't seem to come out of her mouth. She wanted to talk to him, she did, to find out were they stood, if he really did have feelings for her, as everyone else so adamantly told her he in fact did. But Hermione was still on the fence, and she'd only come off of it once she heard it from him. So, the Waiting Game it was.

And there was nothing wrong with the Waiting Game, in hindsight. It was just infuriating, frustrating, and making her want to forget this whole thing and kiss him and that be the end of it. But this wasn't a movie, or one of the teen romance books she read occasionally: that wasn't a way to live a life. So she'd wait, and they'd talk, like grown-ups, and she'd seen where they ended up.

Hermione pushed open the doors of the library, not even having noticed her feet carrying her in her intended direction. At least something was concentrating on being practical. She breathed in the familiar scent, taking it deep into her lungs, letting it fill her veins with calm. She turned to Draco, indicating their preferred table, near the back but still close enough to the middle so that you didn't have to wander too far if you needed something. She set her bag down with a definitive thump, letting her head rest against it's cool leather.

Hermione looked up at Draco through lidded eyes. Even blurry, she can distinctly make out his frown.

"Did you get any sleep last night, Granger? You look half-dead."

"Why thank you, Draco, for that sterling compliment," she drawled, closing her eyes again.

"You know what I mean," he said with a roll of his eyes. "You were up all night reading, weren't you?"

"Maybe," Hermione replied evasively.

"Hermione," he chided.

"What."

"Don't make me sound like an overbearing mother hen," he pleaded, taking the bag out from under her head.

She made a noise of protest but didn't have the energy to move. "Fine, I was. But I have to find something before the end of the week, otherwise if I get rejected I won't have enough time to find a second option and study for our N.E.W.T.S. It's impossible," she said, eyes still closed, but she could still picture his face. She bet his arms were folded.

Hermione opened an eye.

They were.

A point to her, then.

"Nothing is impossible if you have the time, inclination, and the caffeine. Now, how about you go through the new arrivals and see if there's anything you want while I go to the kitchens and get you a very strong cup of tea and perhaps some Pepper-Up Potion. Alright?"

Hermione nodded, smiling at him.

She heard the faint squeak of his shoes as he turned, muffled in their sacred space. "Draco," she called.

He turned, face inquiring.

"You're incredible, you know that?"

His smile was soft, like a favourite jumper, enveloping her in warmth. "Why, there's no need to be dramatic, Hermione. I just hope that when it's me semi-incoherent after a long night of studying magical medical terminology, you'd do the same."

"I would," she murmured. "Of course I would. I'd never turn my back on you."

Draco left the library, but not before she heard him say, "Merlin, is that witch trying to kill me?"

It seemed everyone had been right then, after all: Draco did feel something other than friendship towards the Princess of Gryffindor.


Author's Note: Hello, treasured readers! I'm so sorry at the lateness of this post. I actually write it a few days ago, but my internet was not cooperating so I haven't been able to post it until now. So, what do you think about Draco wanting to look after kids? I of course got the idea from Emily, and yes, if you are wondering, Draco will tell Hermione about her at some point soon. It's all so angsty and dramatic. The next chapter is going to be a Neville one, and him talking to Miss Abbott. Who's excited? I'm excited to write it for you. What did you guys think about this unlikely alliance Ginny and Theo have struck up together? I actually think they work quite well together as friends. Let me know, and I may add more of them.

Thank you so much for reading!

Until next time.

All my love, Temperance