Hello wonderful readers! My gorgeous alpha/beta, MissyJAnne85 (thank you for your speedy work on this chapter, darling!) and I have come to a difficult conclusion. Next week will be the last time I update weekly for this year. I WILL still update & do not fear about the story going incomplete. THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN. I will likely update bi-weekly and will try to keep it to Wednesdays - but as the silly season approaches, I'm afraid that I can't make too many promises. I don't want to let you down. The change in updating schedule is due to several things - 1: the Silly Season. 2: My stupid arse likes to enter fests & challenges which all seem to ramp up at this time of year. 3: I've picked up more shifts at work and am now working twice as much as usual 4: If you haven't seen me post elsewhere, or haven't noticed - A Losing Game is taking a dark turn & I'd rather not dump that all on you during Christmas & New Years. I hope you can understand and forgive me for this decision.

As always, the Spotify Playlist has been updated with this week's songs, which can be found in the end notes.

The extra moment that Ginny had taken to tell Malfoy what an idiot he was, was all it took for her to lose Hermione in the Slytherin dungeons. She walked out of the cell and could see neither hide nor hair of her friend. Ginny retraced their steps, assuming that Hermione would head back to Gryffindor tower. She alternated between walking, jogging, and running. She went up and down corridors and flights of stairs. When she finally made it to the seventh floor and through the portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione was nowhere to be seen. She wasn't in the common room, the bedroom, or the bathroom.

The castle was massive, of course, and Hermione could be literally anywhere - but Ginny had a sinking feeling in her stomach. She knew where Hermione had gone, and she didn't think it was in her best interest to be there.


Hermione arrived on the fifth floor, standing in front of Anne Boleyn, not entirely sure what she was doing there. She was angry with Draco, wasn't she? She currently wanted nothing to do with him, right? So why was she standing in front of their dormitory, gaping like a fish because she didn't know the current password?

Anne stared at her expectantly. "He hasn't changed it," she informed her. "I think he was hoping you'd come back at some point."

Hermione felt the pressure lift off of her chest, and she could breathe again. Still, she hesitated in saying the password.

Anne smiled at her encouragingly, giving Hermione the little extra push that she needed to say, "Honeydukes."

The portrait swung open, and Hermione stepped inside. She didn't know what she was expecting - that things would look completely different? Feel completely different? Instead, it was like she had stepped into a time capsule. Everything was exactly where she remembered it being, down to the last book. Hermione wasn't sure what was worse. To think that he had changed everything or to know that he hadn't. The air was thick and cloying with an expectation of something she didn't understand. She felt it like the tension in her shoulders. She should leave, she shouldn't be here. She needed to get out. She was making a mistake. Hermione turned, intending to flee out of the room and back to the safety of Gryffindor tower — but she was too late. Draco had come in and was watching her quietly, contemplating her near panic in a state of calm only he could achieve.

They stared at each other, neither willing to be the first to move or speak. The silence stretched and stretched, and Hermione felt her skin start to itch. Finally, just as she was about to open her mouth, Draco spoke.

"I've been trying to keep my distance, but in that instance with Dean, I broke down. I know better than to want you, but I've tried, and I've tried. It's hopeless."

"Are you going to tell me more lies, Malfoy? Will you tell me pretty painted truths this time? Or will you just continue telling me everything and anything at all to keep me away from you? Because you just keep pulling me under, and I feel like I'm constantly drowning in an ocean of you!" Hermione clapped back. She was on the defence, protecting her heart. Arms crossed over her chest and refusing to blink lest tears escape.

"Granger, you know that I can't tell you everything!"

"Can't or won't? I'm so tired of your excuses! But when you bruise my ego, I stick around anyway. There's no point in trying to lie to me again because apparently, I'd rather be sinking than to go without you - which is insane!" Hermione threw up her hands, frustrated. Clearly, no matter how badly they hurt each other, no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't stay away from one another.

"These last few weeks, I've felt like I've been drowning without you, too, Granger. I know that I deserve it, but now it's like the water rising, and I'm too tired to keep on swimming. My lungs just can't take it, and I just want to breathe you in -"

"Malfoy," Hermione said, her voice low and warning. "Do not start something that you can't finish! I will not do this dance again. I can't do this again. If you hurt me one more time, I'll be finished. Do not say these things if you are not willing to be completely honest with me, no matter the cost. If I break one more time, I will be too damaged to repair, do you hear me?"

Draco paced the room quickly. He didn't want to make promises he couldn't keep. He was damned to hell already, but she wasn't. Hermione was an angel, she was pure. He didn't want to drag her down there with him. But he was selfish, and he was in agony without her. Could he risk it all to be with her? Could he risk losing her? Could he risk knowing that she might die and it was all because of him? No, he couldn't. He couldn't do any of those things. But she was standing there, and she was looking so perfect. Her curls were a mess, her neck and cheeks red with frustration and other untold emotions. Her eyes were glistening orbs haloed by light.

She was fucking perfect, and he couldn't resist her. Perhaps he could tell her the truth. Tell her the truth and then let her decide if loving him was worth her life? Was that selfish of him? Incredibly so. Was it the right thing to do by her? Maybe not, but she deserved the opportunity to make her own decisions. To make her own informed decisions.

Hermione watched him as he paced, keeping a good distance from her. She wanted to yell and scream at him some more, vent her frustrations and hurt. She wanted to wrap her little hands around his thick neck and squeeze until he heard her. Abruptly, he stopped moving. He looked up at her and spoke.

"I thought that I was doing the right thing. I should have been honest with you from the beginning, but I thought that it would be better to keep some things from you. Before you say anything; I know — it feels like I am setting little fires deliberately, but I'm not. I swear, I'm not. But still, it's like I can't stop until I can taste the fucking smoke on my skin, on every treacherous part of me."

Hermione could hardly let herself hope. He'd let her down already so many times, but the look on his face now. It was open, honest, vulnerable. She couldn't stand any more, her knees were getting weak. She was tired and feeling the effects from the Firewhiskey, but she was also hyper-alert, her brain running a mile a minute and her heart not far behind. Sitting was the best option for her right now. She curled herself into a protective ball on the sofa. Their sofa.

"So. Are you going to be honest with me? Fill in all of the missing puzzle pieces?"

Draco watched her, still unsure, she could tell. He had made up his mind, but he still doubted whether or not it was the right thing to do.

"I'll need your help. I haven't made any progress at all, Granger." He thought of all of the books, manuscripts, and scrolls he'd been searching through. Then he thought of the letters from his parents - and the image of a decapitated rat flooded his mind. He knew he was rambling now, but the words were rushing to come out, to be heard, to be understood. "There's blood on my hands, as you already know. I don't want your blood on my hands, too, I - I couldn't live with it. You should probably just save yourself."

He was still standing very far away from her - by the bookshelf. As if coming too close to her would be physically painful. Maybe it would be, it had sure felt that way these last few weeks.

"Save myself? My blood on your hands? What on earth are you talking about, Malfoy?"

And so he told her. He told her of the curses on his bloodline, how his ancestors had ensured that being a Malfoy would mean being a pure-blood, at any cost. Draco filled Hermione in on just why exactly his mother had wanted those earrings back, that they needed to stay in the family - how Hermione could never be family because he was failing. He couldn't find a solution to the problem. Draco told her of his father's letter and of his specific words "Mudbloods don't become Malfoy's".

And finally, finally, he told her of Rodolphus. He told her how his uncle had attended the New Years party, with the use of Polyjuice potion and how he was the real threat. Of how he was just as insane as Bellatrix had ever been. He watched Hermione shudder at the name before he took a deep breath and continued. Draco described the threat he received in the mail the day that he broke up with her. The decapitated rat, with the word 'Mudblood' carved into its decaying flesh. He wept then, freely, his despair and panic for her life as fresh in his mind now as it had been then.

Hermione's heart seized a hundred different times during his confession. All these secrets, all this darkness, and all this weight. He'd been carrying around this horrible knowledge for months on his own. She watched him cry, and it broke her heart all over again. This strong, intimidating, proud young man reduced to tears at the thought of loving and losing her. At the notion of his love for her being the reason that he lost her.

Hermione wept with him. Had anyone ever loved her so purely before? And she'd made it so difficult for him. She had punished him for trying to keep her safe. Refusing to listen when he insisted that he was no good for her, that nothing could come of them being together. She had been wrong. She should have listened to him from the start. Maybe if she'd just let things go at the beginning, neither of them would be in this living hell. But she was glad she hadn't. She regretted nothing. Hermione loved him more than she loved anyone else in her entire life. Without him, she was empty. He filled every crevice of hurt she had with something more than love, something more than magic, something more akin to destiny.

Hermione let him keep his distance, even though it pained her to see him cry. He broke her, and he restored her. She was his in every way, and if loving him and being loved by him was a fight - well, it was one she intended to win. She wanted to wipe the tears from his face and kiss him until he no longer remembered who he was. But he was proud, and he would not want her pity. Swiping at her own face and clearing her throat, she spoke for the first time in what felt an eternity.

"You know," she said wryly, "I think I kind of like the way you hate me sometimes." Draco looked up at her in shock and breathed in sharply. Hermione wouldn't let him speak though, "I kind of hate you sometimes, too. Probably more than sometimes, if I'm honest. When you come and go, it's like my bones are breaking—"

"Take that back! I'd never hurt you like that!"

"I won't," Hermione huffed. "It's metaphorically true. It feels like you split me in half, and these last few weeks, I've been a shattered shell of myself. Surviving on pure will alone."

"Give me a moment, will you, Granger?" Draco asked. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he turned away from her.

When he turned back around, he moved to join her at the other end of the couch. "Does this mean — are you cutting me loose?" He asked, his voice trembling. He spread his knees and let his face rest in the palms of his hands.

"No, you idiot. That's not what I'm saying!"

Draco looked up at her with something like hope written all over his face. Could it be possible that she still wanted him, even though she knew the truth? That he'd continued to endanger her life even after he'd been made aware of the fact? That being with him now would almost certainly be a death sentence?

"Maybe - " Hermione hesitated, suddenly unsure of her words. "Maybe we should stay in the dark, at least for now. Become see-through, in a way?" Despite every fibre of her body no longer willing to hide her feelings, the thought of someone legitimately wishing her dead because of them, gave her a moment of pause. It seemed that keeping their relationship a secret might have actually been wise.

Draco chuckled ironically. "Do you think that's possible after tonight? We've only gone and shown the entire upper two classes that we're more than just classmates and fellow Heads."

"Shit. I had forgotten about that. You're right. There's absolutely no way that I could move back in here, and people still believe that we're not together."

"You-you're saying that you're moving back in?" Draco asked. Desire, trepidation, and hope flitted across his face.

"I rather think this stupid experiment of being apart has run its course, don't you? It didn't work out for me. How was it for you?"

"Fucking miserable," he told her, not missing a beat.

Hermione couldn't help the burst of laughter that escaped her. "Ok. So that settles it," she said. "I'll be moving back in. And we - what? We're back together? Publicly? Because I don't know how-"

Hermione wasn't able to continue her rant. Draco had used his snitch-seeking reflexes, reached over and had pulled her into his lap. He was unable to keep his hands off her any longer, and he pulled her down to meet him in a ferocious kiss. A kiss to make up for all the kisses they had missed out on this last month. A kiss that poured all of his loneliness out into the void, and filled himself with her instead. A kiss that bruised. A kiss that melted. A kiss that promised, and she lost herself in him. Their hands roamed each other's bodies, discovering and searching anew. Tongues clashing, teeth nipping, breaths hitching, hips rolling and grinding.

Draco pulled away from her, gasping for breath. "Are you sure?" He asked, silver eyes dark with need, still glossy and bloodshot from his earlier confession. Hermione thought he was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen.

"Only if you're sure that you won't leave me again," Hermione replied, nipping at his bottom lip, and drawing blood.

"Fuck," he swore, swiping at the bead of red. "Do you love me, or do you want me dead?"

"Push me away, or beg me to stay? Which is it, Malfoy?"

"The way you're looking at me, Granger. Either way, I'm not sure I'll make it out alive!"

"Which is it, Malfoy?" Hermione asked again, her voice savage as she rolled her hips against the bulge in his pants. "Tell me that you love me, that you'll never leave me. Make me believe you."

Sucking air in through his teeth, he slipped his hands up her back and to the nape of her neck.

"I'll never leave you, Granger. Not until the day you send me away. You are my everything," his breath hitched as Hermione dug her fingernails into the skin at the base of his skull. "I love everything that you are, everything that you do. Forgive me for being so stupid, I love you, Hermione." Draco's eyes were shining with sincerity.

His fervour almost unbalanced her. It was so unlike him to be so vulnerable. Hermione beamed at him and rested her forehead against his for a moment before she took his lips in hers once more. He kissed her back with a fervour that suggested that he didn't care if tonight was his last alive. Hermione moved her lips to Draco's neck, biting and sucking as she ground down against the straining erection in his pants.

"Fuck," he swore again, hardly able to believe his luck. She was here with him again. After all the shit he put her through. She was grinding against him and sucking bruises on his neck, and he was so fucking hard. "You fight so dirty, Granger, but you love so sweet!" He rasped.

"You know how to talk pretty, Malfoy, but you'd better be careful because my heart has teeth." Hermione panted against his ear, her breath wet and needy against his neck. Her hands were sliding over his shoulders and her fingers winding through his hair.

Draco growled as she moved on him. He was letting her take the reins, but damn it all to hell if he wasn't about to lose it while still in his pants. His hands had found their way to the zipper at the back of her ridiculously tight pink dress. Slowly he released her from its confines. The straps fell down her shoulders, and Hermione pushed him back roughly against the sofa.

Draco's eyes took in the sight of her in that gorgeous red lace, and he nearly came undone as Hermione slid the dress further down her torso. "You're a late-night Devil, Malfoy. Now put your hands on me," Hermione commanded him, her eyes wickedly alight.

Draco did as he was told. His hands skating over her collarbone and trailing down until he held a breast in each hand. He squeezed them hard, rolling his thumbs over her nipples, the lace adding pleasant friction. Hermione arched into him. "Fuck," she moaned. "Draco, take me to your bedroom. Now!"

He didn't need telling twice. Draco grabbed her hips and lifted them both off the couch. Their lips crashed together again as he blindly made his way from the common room and carried her up his staircase. He all but blew his door off its hinges with his wand when they crested the landing.

Draco dropped Hermione onto his bed, where she shimmied the borrowed dress the rest of the way off while he divested himself of his shirt, shoes and trousers.

He leaned back down over her, relishing the feel of his skin on hers. He was right. She was like a drug to him, and right now, he was high.

"Fucking goddess," he hissed against her stomach. Draco used his teeth to remove her thong, scraping his way down her thighs, relishing the taste of her skin as he went, his body responding to the sight of her in his favourite red lace.

Hermione keened, restless for more. She didn't want to mess around with foreplay - not tonight. She needed him to fill her, stretch her wide and replace the pain in her chest with the delectable ache in her core. Her body had missed him just as severely as her heart had.

Impatiently, Hermione laced her fingers through his. She gripped his hands and tugged. Her upper body strength didn't budge him even a little, but it was enough for him to understand her point. He didn't need to get her wet - she was dripping for him already.

Hermione clawed at his back while he removed his boxer shorts, his mouth latching on to her right nipple and sucking hard through the lace. His tongue darted out, and he licked between her breasts salaciously as he thrust into her - hard.

Hermione cried out in pleasure and pain. He was a lot to take in with gentle ease. All at once — this was an entirely new ball game to Hermione. Incredibly, they'd never had aggressive, angry sex before. Before their sex had been intense — it had been passionate, but this was different — this was verging on violent. She decided that it was something she'd like more often. Her nails in his back dug deeper as her body tensed around him. "Fuck," she screamed, her breath caught somewhere in her throat. Her eyes locked on his. "Do that again," she demanded.

Draco's eyes were like Lucifer's himself, his smirk one to rival the Prince of Darkness. He slid quickly back out of her and slammed back in again and again with a force she didn't recognise, but relished. Fuck, she was going to come, and soon. Her walls started to clench around him, her defences fluttering, her back arching off of the bed.

"Not gonna be that easy, Granger," Draco snarled into her ear, picking her up and switching their positions. Hermione growled. She had been so close to climax, but with them sitting and her on top, he was hitting parts of her that he hadn't so far tonight. All the right parts of her, and she was deliciously full of him.

Hermione placed her hands on his shoulder and ground herself against him, rolling her hips just so, and making them both throw back their heads in ecstasy. With Draco's hands on her hips, he guided her up and down, setting a brutal pace. He buried his face in her tits which had spilled out of her bra, pleasured her sensitive nipples, and assisted her in riding them both to release.

Hermione wound one of her hands through the hair at the back of his head, tugging for grip as her other hand travelled down between her legs, reaching for her clit. She rubbed her fingers across the sensitive bundle of nerves quickly as she bucked her hips and clenched down onto the maddeningly large dick inside of her. Her breathing became sharp and shallow.

"That's it, Granger," Draco murmured in her ear. "Come for me like the savage angel you are," he bit at her earlobe, and Hermione came undone around him. She shattered as he exploded inside of her. Their mutual orgasm earning them their collapse onto the bed in a tangled pile of limbs, Hermione's sweat-dampened hair fanning out across Draco's chest.

They lay together quietly while their hearts returned to a normal, steady beat. Unable to comprehend that after all these weeks, they were back in each other's arms. Hermione felt like she might be dreaming. That was until she tried to move and her legs absolutely refused to go anywhere. The ache between her thighs was a delectable reminder that she was most definitely not asleep.

Instead, she rolled over and kissed him. She kissed him slowly, languidly, passionately. She showed him with a kiss all that she hadn't as they'd fucked. She showed him how much she loved him.

Finally, Hermione came up for air. She grinned against his mouth, sighing in contentment and relief. She had needed this. She had needed him. He was her catharsis.

Draco grinned back, his heart light and alive, beating out of his chest. He rubbed his nose against hers playfully. "All these weeks, I've been unable to look away, mere seconds from begging you to stay."

Hermione nuzzled against his neck. "I wish you would have," she said. "Never, ever let me go again, alright?"

"Alright," Draco agreed, pulling her closer to him, he shifted their bodies so that he could lift the covers over them. He didn't plan on letting her go anywhere, and for the first time in a month, he slept soundly.


Hermione woke with Draco still curled around her. It was ridiculously early, but they needed to talk before their classes started. She pressed back into him, pleased with the feeling of him wrapped around her once more. Her head pounded with uncertainty. Had she made the right decision in taking him back? She loved him and wanted him more than anyone else in her life. In the last six months, her world had slipped off its axis and now seemed to revolve around him. She hadn't forgotten the pain she'd suffered at his hands, and she certainly hadn't forgotten their day to day issues, but she needed to focus on what truly mattered; staying alive.

Her life was at stake again. This ought to scare her, intimidate her, make her want to run for the hills. Was it a sign of how damaged she was that she wanted to cling to him now more than ever? Probably. She'd been chasing danger for the past seven and a half years. Now that the war was over, she'd unwittingly found a new thrill to pursue. She wondered briefly; if once the danger was over would she still want him? Yes, the answer would always be yes. She'd wanted him before she knew what the cost would be, she'd continue to want him once that price was paid. They would come through this, and they would come through it together.

Draco started to stir behind her. Good thing, too. She had questions, but as she felt his cock twitching to life against her arse, she decided they could wait. They both had other needs.

Hermione wriggled against him, gently bringing him out of his sleepy haze. She felt his smile against her neck as he lifted a hand to cup her breast.

"Are you really here?" He asked. "I'm not dreaming again?"

So, he had dreamed of her, too. Of course, he had. Instead of answering, she turned in his arms and pressed a firm kiss to his lips.

"Convinced?" She inquired.

He shook his head, no. So she reached down and took his hardening length in her hand, stroking the velvety skin up and down.

"What about now?" She grinned against his lips.

"Only the real Hermione Granger knows how to do that," he grinned back. He peppered kisses over her face and down to her chest, his fingers making their own discoveries and finding her folds already slick with need. "Fuck, how do you get so wet so quickly?"

"I've missed you. All of you!" Hermione gasped as he slowly dipped a finger inside of her. Her hand squeezed his dick a little bit harder as he stroked her on the inside. Draco curled his finger to the front and stroked her g-spot, eliciting a moan from her mouth and guaranteeing the bucking of her hips.

Hermione released his cock to take his teasing fingers out of her cunt. She stroked him one last time as she lined him up just outside of her folds and eased him in. Slowly this time. Earlier she'd wanted to be fucked — but now she needed to be treasured, and Draco understood her cues perfectly. He slid slowly between her, gently filling her as his hands and mouth worshipped her body. Hermione hooked one of her legs over his hips, granting him deeper access.

They took their time with each other, rediscovering all of the tiny details about one another. How Draco's breathing became ragged when she stroked her way down his spine. How Hermione's breath hitched in her throat when he kissed her behind her ear. When she squeezed his perfectly toned arse cheek, he'd growl deep in his throat, the vibrations sending scintillating shivers throughout her body. If he traced a light pattern against her inner thigh, she'd squeeze against him in the most delicious way. This morning they made love. It wasn't rushed, and it wasn't urgent. It was intrinsically beautiful. An unspoken promise weaved between them as their bodies moved as one.


As they lay in the afterglow, limbs still locked and heartbeats evening out, Hermione dreaded her line of thought. She needed answers. She needed to make a plan, and she needed him to be brave enough to conquer it all with her.

Draco spoke before she had worked up the courage. "Tell me something, Granger. Do you ever turn your brain off?"

"Do you?" She quipped, lifting her head off of his chest to get a better look at him.

He chuckled. "Maybe only a fraction more than you do," he admitted. "Are you happy, right now? Or do you need more?" He asked, shifting his hips beneath her suggestively.

Hermione swatted his arm but grinned. "I'm happy right now, with you, in this moment, but Draco - I'm longing for change. We're facing some pretty terrifying things, and I'm afraid — mostly about losing you again. Aren't you tired of putting up a front? Making people think you are someone you're not — someone you haven't been for a long time? Don't you want to show the world who you really are now? People who aren't Theo or me?"

"You want to go public, don't you? Properly public," He surmised, throwing his head back against the pillows, exasperated.

"Well, like you said last night, we made a statement. If the whole school doesn't already know that we were something, they will when I move back in. Because Draco, I will be moving back in. I'm sick of hiding."

"Hiding can keep you safe, buy us some time! Be reasonable, Granger."

"I don't want to hide," she whispered furiously. "Not any more. No more pretending. I - it's all or nothing for me, Draco."

"And if it gets you killed?"

"Then I hope that one day you will find someone else who can make you happy," Hermione said flippantly.

Draco moved out from underneath her without warning. "We need to get ready for class," he said harshly. "I wonder if you'd be so cavalier about this if it were my life at stake instead of yours. I can't believe you're taking this so lightly!"

"I'm not taking it lightly!" Hermione argued, also slipping from the bed. She hoped to Morgana that she still had a uniform in her bedroom. "I want us to make a plan! I want us to be informed and prepared! We can do it, Draco. Don't you see? We can have it all! And we can do it in the open!"

Draco's glare softened slightly. Still, he scoffed, gathering his things together for the bathroom. "Go and get some clothes, Granger. You might get your way today, but it'll be over my dead body that anyone else sees you like this!" He gestured towards her naked form.

Hermione bit her lip to hide the grin. He was coming around - she knew he was.

She'd met him in the bathroom with a thought out resolution.

"We're already in the deep end, Malfoy. We're at Hogwarts where they can't hurt us," she said, joining him in the bath. He'd already filled it and mixed their scents into the water. She started to shampoo her hair, and as she scrubbed, he still hadn't replied.

"Your uncle and father — they can't reach us while we're at Hogwarts, right?"

Draco didn't stop to think before he answered. "Not in person, but potentially through someone loyal to them."

"Do you think that there is anyone in this school stupid enough to take either of us on?"

Draco thought about that one for a little bit longer. "That's a harder question, Granger. There are plenty of idiots in this school. However, if anyone did try to take us on, I can't imagine that they would best us."

"Right," Hermione agreed. "We still have three and a half months of school left -"

"Plus the Easter holidays. Did you plan to stay here that week?"

"We could, or we could make a plan and get the hell out of here."

"And your parents?" He watched her, wondering if this would be her breaking point.

Hermione shook her head. "If we're public, I'll contact Harry. Fuck it - I'll contact the Minister himself! Ask them to set something up for mum and dad. And while I'm at it, I'll fill Harry and Kingsley in on the death threat - let them know that Rodolphus is hanging around. I'm sure the Ministry would be grateful for that kind of information on a fugitive!"

Draco still looked sceptical, unwilling to take the risk.

"We have three and a half months to figure this shit out, Malfoy," Hermione continued. "I'm confident that we can crack the curse in time. Then we will be ready to take on your uncle. Your father probably won't be too much of a problem after that, right? Locked up and all?"

"That is yet to be determined, Granger - but I agree, maybe this will be manageable."

Ah, there she is, he thought. There was Hermione Granger; the Golden Girl, the Brightest Witch of Her Age, the muggle-born who helped take down the Dark Lord. The girl who stood up to her would-be oppressor and helped her friends take him down, the girl who stood for the light, and shined so brightly in it. Here was the fighter he knew she could be. As he watched Hermione realise that he was agreeing, he couldn't help the small smile that escaped him. Her eyes were lit from within, and her grin was priceless.

"So - we're doing this, then?"

"We're doing this," he agreed.

Hermione sloshed through the water and into his arms, kissing him with wild abandon.


Mercifully, Hermione had found a pair of school pants and a blouse in a drawer. She borrowed a tie, robe and more awkwardly a pair of shoes from Draco, transfiguring them all to the appropriate colours and shrinking them to her size.

Together they walked hand in hand through the halls of Hogwarts, hushed whispers following them as they went. Hermione studiously ignored them, tugging on Draco's hand, and drawing his eyes to her whenever she felt him tense up or reach for his wand. Each time, he'd look down at her, see her smile and visibly relax.

As they reached the Great Hall, Hermione felt suddenly unsure. There were a lot of people in there, and she'd have to let go of his hand so that they could go their separate ways.

This time it was Draco who squeezed her reassuringly. "Come on, Gryffindor. Where's that famous bravery now?" She straightened her spine in response, and he smirked at her. "There's my savage angel," he encouraged, and together they entered the dining hall.

It felt like the whole school turned and watched them enter, silence radiated through the room. It had never, ever been this quiet in here before, Hermione was sure of it. Somewhere in the hall, someone dropped a fork on their plate. Up on the dais, where the Professors sat, Hermione caught Professor McGonagall's eye. The Headmistress winked at her.

In the three seconds that all of this happened in, Hermione wasn't sure if she could blush any harder. Still holding her hand, Draco used the other to tuck a curl behind her ear, his palm resting on her cheek. Draco's eyes lingered on hers, something close to mischief written in their depths. Hermione dragged her bottom lip between her teeth, anticipation swirling deep in her belly. He dropped her hand and took her face in both of his, dipping down he pressed his lips firmly, sweetly against hers, just for a moment. A moment that felt like an eternity, but still wasn't long enough.

Someone over at the Slytherin table let loose a cat-call. Yet another from Ravenclaw whooped loudly. He broke away when an unfamiliar fifth year at the Gryffindor table complained to her boyfriend, "Why don't you ever kiss me like that?" Which was met with several chuckles.

Draco released her with a smirk and strode confidently over to the Slytherin table to take his seat next to Theo, who Hermione suspected responsible for the wolf whistle. Most mortifying, yet satisfying of all, a group of fourth-year Hufflepuffs had started to applaud as she made her way to Gryffindor table. Biting her lip in delight, a slight spring in her step, and her face on fire, Hermione mentally prepared herself to face the question-firing squad.

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This week's songs are:

Drown - Martin Garrix ft. Clinton Kane

Hate Me (Sometimes) - Stand Atlantic

Teeth - 5 Seconds of Summer

Shallow - Lady Gaga & Bradley Cooper