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I know this chapter is a bit short and sweet, but there are some much longer chapters on there way soon! Thank you all so much for continuing to read this story, seriously, thank you!

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Friday, January 21st, 1977

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Room of Requirement

Hermione's recovery had been swift: by the Wednesday she was sitting up and ordering them all around as per usual.

Remus and Draco dropped by every morning for a quick word before they went to their classes for the day (though they liked to linger a tad longer than they should've). James and Sirius visited at the end of the day—right after classed concluded—and with them came all of the classwork she'd missed. (Which she insisted they bring, as she was adamant that she not fall behind.)

The Gryffindor girls and Riley often visited, and much to her surprise, as did Emmeline, Dorcas, Mary and Marlene. Marlene often brought snacks and interesting conversation, and she kindly assisted Hermione with her work whilst informing her of all the idle gossip circling the school. Mary always came bearing cookies or gummy bears, her long auburn braid swinging about wildly as she skipped into the infirmary.

One evening, when it was just Hermione, Lily and Emmeline, she laughed so much that Madame Pomfrey kicked the other girls out as they were 'distressing her patient'.

Peter visited once, he brought some sugar quills and a shy smile, he stayed for what she supposed was the polite amount of time, and then he scurried off. She sighed heavily, things had definitely changed on that front, and no matter what she did, she could feel the chasm growing exponentially between Peter and the other Marauders.

Dumbledore attempted to have a visit with her, but Hermione threw a glass at his head as soon as her eye met his silvery blue ones, hidden behind half moon spectacles, just as he so often hid his true intentions. Well, she didn't actually throw a glass at him, not really, it smashed on the wall beside him, which is where she'd intended for it to go.

Minerva stopped by on several occasions, providing cheeky quips and dry humour that lifted Hermione's spirits immensely.

In the end, Hermione was bedridden for a week: due to the fact that besides her concussion, she'd also broken her ankle in her fall (Draco caught her right as her leg hit the ground, to his great dismay.).

Every night, Draco and James snuck down to the Infirmary, and crawled into bed with her—so she was never alone—and their scent lingered long after they'd left to get ready for the day.

Currently, fully healed, and feeling on top of the world, Hermione was happily sitting sideways in Draco's lap in the Room of Requirement.

"Frank and Alice, remember?" Hermione asked in between kisses, trying to convince Draco that they shouldn't be snogging, they should be figuring out a solution for Frank and Alice. Which is what they'd set out to do when they came in here. "It will soon be time for dinner to be over, and I would like to be back in the Tower, before everyone else gets back."

Draco sighed, shifting so that his chin was propped on her shoulder. "Fine. The concoction I'm attempting to brew never seems to turn out quite right…I don't even know if a potion is the right way to do this, I'm still basing everything off of my own experiences with the cruciatus curse."

Hermione shuddered in his arms, recalling her run-in with the Unforgivable Curse, and sensing this, Draco tightened his hold on her. "We still have no idea what happens to people that undergo prolonged exposure to the curse, to the point of…madness."

"That is true—" Hermione started, but abruptly, and forcibly pulled back to look him in the face, Draco's eyes were wide from the sudden movement, but otherwise he appeared to be unaffected.

"What?"

"We need to find a similar case!" Hermione exclaimed, "Circe's tit, why didn't I think of it before? That way we can observe them, and that may help speed things along!"

"We should visit St. Mungo's," Hermione muttered more to herself than to him, her mind kicking into gear.

Draco frowned, his forehead creasing significantly. "Brilliant. I'm positive the Healers at St. Mungo's will allow two barely of age wix to go snooping around their fragile, tormented patients so we can...observe them—especially since we were such lovely citizens the last time we graced their doorsteps," Draco said, sarcasm oozing, and dripping hotly from his tone.

"Git. Transfiguration and charms exist for a reason," Hermione scowled, lightly swatting his shoulder.

"Good point," Draco relented, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

"We can probably sneak out tomorrow, but we'll have to enlist Jamie's help. We can tell him we want to go on a date, or something…" Hermione trailed off, absently toying with the hairs on his nape as she ran through the logistics of the whole thing in her head.

"A date sounds nice, it'll just be the two of us…and a bunch of mentally unsound people," Draco said wryly.

Hermione glared at him darkly, hitting his arm again, except this time, it actually hurt. She shot him a meaningful look, and he groaned.

"You're right, that was highly insensitive of me," Draco apologised, nudging her nose with his. "On a serious note, I would like to take you out on a date sometime," he added lowly, cupping her face, and stroking her cheek fondly.

It was a blur, but he saw her cheeks flush red, and he couldn't help the massive grin on his face, and he purposefully chose to ignore the mischievous glint in her eye.

"I suppose. It'll have to be in Muggle London, or somewhere very secluded…we can't have people seeing us."

Draco's puckered brow returned, "one day, I want to be able to walk around with you on my arm, without worrying about hiding, or who will see us. I want everyone to know you're mine."

"Yours?" Hermione asked, her face getting a lot closer to his, so close that her features smudged into a mess of colour, and all he could see was the sparks dancing in her hazel eyes.

"Yes," Draco breathed.

"What if I told you I don't belong to anyone?"

"Then I'd say, what about you calling me yours the other day? It'd be a bit hypocritical, wouldn't you say?" Draco laughed airily, and Hermione's reply was a soft growl.

"I don't remember that, I was hopped up on all kinds of pain potions," Hermione whispered, her forehead pressed against his, her fingers diving into his hair, and her nails scraped lightly across his scalp.

"Bollocks, you remember…besides, sweetness, you have to know that I belong wholly, and solely to you by now," Draco murmured, his lips ghosting over hers, all she had to do was move forward a modicum of an inch, and they would be touching.

Hermione happily hummed at that statement, "'wholly and solely', that is so sappy."

It was Draco's turn to growl, "is that so?"

"Yes," Hermione grinned wickedly, her tongue slowly dragging across her bottom lip. "You should say things like that more often."

Draco snarled before pulling her down to him, roughly claiming her lips, and without hesitation his hand slid under her shirt, his fingers splaying out across her back.

"I abhor you," Hermione laughed against his lips.

"Absolutely despise you," He said in kind, slipping his tongue into her mouth.

The witch and the wizard did not get back to the Tower before the feast ended, and when they returned to their lion's den, warmth flooded all around them. They soon found themselves saddled up amongst their friends by the fireplace: Hermione snuggled up with Lily and Alice under a thick knit blanket, and Draco laid himself across Remus, Sirius and James on the couch, Peter was shyly sitting beside Kira, who had her head on his shoulder, and Nancy was strangely missing.

Hermione almost asked where the strawberry blonde was, but her attention was grabbed by the fact that Lily kept stealing glances at James.

"You okay?" Hermione whispered into the girl's ear, and Lily jumped, looking as if she had been caught red handed, and jerkily nodded her head.

"I'm fine," Lily promised, nestling herself further into Hermione's side, and affixing her gaze upon the crackling flames.

Hermione smirked, dropping a kiss to the top of Lily's head, I know, you are, lovely. I know.

Hermione had a gentle, warm feeling surging through her veins that things were going to work out just fine.