A/N: This is going to be a long chapter! I apologize for it's massive length, although after my awful length away from writing, I'm sure some you will welcome it. Also, please note, this is just a filler chapter. I wanted to get Harry and Ron to know, and also to strengthen Draco and Hermione's relationship.

Disclaimer: It seems I may have forgotten one of these for the last chapter? No matter. I do not own Harry Potter… Draco Malfoy is another thing completely! Nope. Just kidding. He's not mine either. Only in my dreams that involve wands, whipped cream, and lots and lots of leather… Use your imagination!

Harry and Ron sat dumbfounded in two armchairs in the common room in the heads' tower. Draco and Hermione sat in front of them in a loveseat.

"What?" Harry asked, not believing what he had just heard.

"Draco and I are… Well, we're dating, Harry." Hermione answered, casting a cautious glance at Draco.

Ron sat stoic. He didn't say anything. Well, not yet, anyway, but his ears were getting red, and his face was getting red, too. Hermione just knew he was going to blow up soon. And boy was she right.

Ron suddenly jumped up from his chair. "What? Am I not good enough for you, Hermione Granger? Just because I'm not bloody fucking rich, like Malfoy? You're only after him for his money, right? You can't be seriously dating him, Hermione!" he exploded.

Hermione stood up, and so did Draco. "Yes, Ronald. We… Well, we are going to give it a shot." She said.

"Give it a shot? Damnit, I'll give you a shot!" he said, and raised his hand to slap her.

Draco grabbed Ron's arm. "Don't you dare hit her." He said.

Ron snorted. "Why in the hell not? Maybe it'll knock some sense into her, although it never did before!" he yelled.

Harry stood at Ron's side. "Ron, let's go." He said. Ron shook his head. Harry tired again. "Ron, let's go. Now." He said, and led Ron out of the room. He didn't agree with Hermione dating Draco, but there wasn't much he could do about it, now was there?

He led Ron out of the tower as quickly as he could, and honestly wished the couple the best of luck – they'd need it. No one was going to accept this, not even the Hufflepuffs, and they didn't seem to mind anything.

Draco turned around to Hermione. He gently placed a kiss on her lips. "I think they took it quite well." He said.

Hermione shook her head, obviously shaken. "I need to go lay down." She said.

Draco smirked his trademark smirk. Hermione saw it and groaned to herself. He wasn't going to say it… Surely he wouldn't… "Can I join you?" he asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and gave him a gentle shove. "No, you may not!" she said, playing along with him. She turned and began to go to her room. She hadn't moved more than three feet when she felt Draco's seeker-calloused hand on her upper arm. "I said no, you can't join me!" she said, thinking he was still playing with her.

He wasn't. Draco's face was serious, and his stormy grey-blue eyes were searching her face. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Hermione was shocked by his sudden change of mood. "I'm fine, Draco." She said, but her voice shook a little. In truth, she was a little shaken, thus the reason she was going to go lay down.

Draco's eyes searched hers. "No, no you're not. You're upset." He said.

Hermione was upset. The last time she had been hit by Ron had been quite awhile ago, and truth be told. She was a bit afraid of him. He had started out to be caring and kind, albeit a little clingy and possessive, but nice. However, he had gotten very possessive, and then he had become abusive. Draco had seen, or heard, a bit of that at Grimmauld Place.

Of course, Hermione had always dealt with Ron by herself, using glamour charms to cover the bruises, and acting like everything had been fine. She was a little afraid that Draco was going to become like Ron, and she just couldn't handle that.

When Hermione didn't respond, Draco spoke again. "You're afraid of Weasley. He was abusive, wasn't he?" he asked. Hermione didn't respond, but Draco saw the flash of shame in her eyes. It was like his mother's.

The Malfoy family had always put on a strong front, but Lucius had been anything but loving to his family, especially his son, and didn't hesitate to punish his wife when she failed to meet his expectations, and Draco had often helped his mother to her room after his father finished with her, and noticed the flash of shame in Hermione's eyes. Like his mother, she thought that the abuse was all her fault, although she didn't allow anyone to know that.

Draco pulled Hermione to him. She buried her face into his neck and shoulder, and cried shamelessly. For months she had wanted to do this, and now she finally could. She allowed her tears to flow freely as Draco simply held her.

After a moment, he picked her up princess style, and carried her to his bed, laid her down on it, and tucked her into his fluffy bedspread. Draco kissed her on the forehead, and went up into Hermione's room and grabbed her bedspread. He took it down into the common room and bedded down for the night in the common room.

The next morning, Draco awoke to the sound of running water below him. Hermione was using his shower. He smiled to himself, and folded up her blanket. He placed it on the coffee table, and grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter in the kitchenette. Just before he took a bite, he changed his mind. He put it back and grabbed an orange.

He peeled it, being careful to leave as much of the creamy-white pulp as possible. He loved that part of the orange. He sectioned it into a small bowl, and cut the sections in half. Then, deciding he had a sweet tooth that morning, he sprinkled a little bit of sugar on the orange pieces, and poured himself a cup of coffee.

Draco smiled as he felt a pair of arms circle around him from the back. "Good morning, Draco." Hermione said. Draco turned around, and wrapped his arms around her, giving her a hug.

Still hugging her, he asked, "Do you want breakfast?"

Hermione giggled. Her ear was up against his neck, and it made the normal low rumble of his voice sound funny. "I'll take that as a yes?" he asked. She nodded.

"Let me get dressed." She said, and pulled away from him. She grabbed a half slice of his orange, a sip of his coffee (she grimaced at the bitter taste), and ran up to her room.

"Dress nice!" he called after her. "We're going to Hogsmeade today!" he called.

From the top of the turret, he heard her call down, "Okay!"

Draco sighed contentedly. In his wildest dreams he had never thought of this happening. He was dating the mudblood Gryffindor princess, and he was happy. God, was he happy.

Draco dropped a chunk of orange into his coffee, mixed it around a bit with a spoon, and contentedly drank his coffee. He grabbed his bowl of orange chunks, his drink, and walked down the spiral staircase into his dorm.

Draco went into his bathroom, and started the shower running, all the while eating his oranges. He set his stereo to 'on', and undressed as a new song from the Weird Sisters album played. She stepped into the steamy shower.

Hermione didn't know what to wear. She didn't know Draco was going to take her. She only had three dresses in her closet, and she wanted to look good for him.

One was a floor length baby blue gown. That was from the Yule ball, and she honestly didn't think she could cram herself into it again. Her chest had grown in the three years since then.

The second dress she pulled out was cute little black thing. Her mother always said that girls all needed a little black dress. Hers was lace. It was a two-tier dress, just above her knees. Then, on her belly, it was ruched sideways to accentuate her trim tummy, and on the chest it had up-and-down ruching to accentuate her chest. Tiny spaghetti straps went over her shoulders, but they were pretty much useless. She had a black wrap to go with it, and black heels. Hermione loved that dress, but she wasn't sure Draco would like it.

Her other dress was forest green, with a black lace overlay, yet another gift from her mother. It had a wide black satin strip to form an empire wait, and it flowed outwards and down to her knees. The same wrap and shoes would go with that dress, and she knew that Draco loved green.

Hermione chose the second dress. Not only was it a little longer, she just knew Draco would love it. She slipped it on, and followed up her shoes. The little black shoes had three inch heels and a tiny little bow on them. The rounded toe was cute. She grabbed her wrap and headed down to the common room.

Draco had dressed in somewhat baggy black jeans, and had put on a button-down forest green shirt. He nervously fingered the tiny black box in his pocket. It held something he had wanted to give to Hermione for quite some time: his mother's locket.

The locket was in the shape of a book, and opened like a book. At one inch by ½ inch, it was a little bit big, but he knew that Hermione would love it. It was made out of white gold, and had tiny stones – peridot and emerald – imbedded into the surface. It hung from a thin, delicate white gold chain. Inside, it was empty. He didn't know what to put inside. His mother had always had a picture of Draco as a young boy.

Draco's breath caught in his lungs as Hermione descended the stairs. The green silk behind the black lace was the same color as Draco's silk shirt.

Hermione tucked her curly hair behind her ear when she reached the bottom of the stairs. "You like?" she asked, giving him a twirl.

"It's perfect." He breathed. "The dress is perfect, and you are perfect. There's only one thing that could make it more perfect." He said, withdrawing the black leather box. He handed it to her.

Hermione cautiously opened the box. Inside was the most gorgeous locket she had ever seen. A carved Slytherin crest befitted the front, and in the corners were emerald green stones. Lighter green peridot stones shimmered as they framed the edge of the book shaped locket. "Oh, Draco…" she breathed. "It's gorgeous." She said.

Draco smiled as she lifted the delicate locket from the box. Even though it was large, it was very thin. It was about as thick as the narrow edge of a popsicle stick. Draco lifted the locket from her fingers, and walked behind it to put it around her neck. She lifted her hair off of her neck as he clipped the delicate lobster claw clasp.

He walked back in front of her. "Perfection." He stated. She smiled. "Are we ready to go, my dear?" he asked her, offering his arm. Hermione smiled and took it.

The pair received several strange looks as they walked, however, most had not yet heard of the relationship, yet. Of course, it was only natural that the head boy and head girl would go out and about together, for appearance's sake.

As they walked, Hermione came up with the most brilliant question yet: "Draco, where are we going?"

Draco only smiled. "Relax." He said. "You'll love it." He didn't offer any more information than that as they hopped up into the head's carriage. It was a sleek black Victorian thing pulled by a pair of chestnut red horses, thoroughbreds in all likelihood. It was manned by a driver, and two coachmen.

Soon, they were in Hogsmeade, but Draco ordered the driver to continue on to an address Hermione didn't know. "Draco, where are we going?" she asked again. Again, Draco only smiled.

Within a few moments, Hermione was completely lost. They were far away from the general area where students shopped. The driver pulled the horses to a gentle stop, and the coachmen hopped down and opened the doors to the cab, and helped Hermione out. Draco paid them a tip, and Draco and Hermione entered the building.

Hermione gasped. It was… It was amazing. From Draco she had expected something much more… Well, much more energetic. Inside, was a coffee shop. But better yet, the walls were covered with books! Draco saw her eyes light up, and chuckled to himself. "Don't fret. We're not there yet." He said, and walked to a back corner. He pressed his palm to a worn circle in the paneling of the wall, and a door opened.

Inside, it was a club. Not just any ordinary club, but a night club type place. Neon lights flashed, and smoke clung to everything. Various Slytherins were drinking all sorts of concoctions, all presumably alcoholic. "Welcome," he said, "to the Red Barman."