Parkes Hotel, London

10:30AM

Thursday, December 26th, 1998

Ron had let her take a shower in his apartment and made her keep the engagement ring he had given her, kissing her cheek before she left, promising once again that he wasn't mad. She had apparated to a hotel near Hyde Park she had once visited with her mother on an occasion where they had treated themselves to a Girls' Weekend when she was thirteen. They had spent their time shopping and eating and going to the spa, activities Hermione usually abhorred. She booked a room for a little over a week, just enough nights to tide her over until she was to return to Hogwarts, and promptly took the lift to her suite and curled onto the duvet.

It took almost half an hour for her tears to dry up as she cradled the sparkling diamond ring in her hand. Her face felt raw and her eyes ached when she had finished, sitting up and tangling her hand through her hair. Since she was eleven, Hermione Granger had kept to a very strict plan. She was to be the best in her class, work as hard as possible, and not be distracted by anything. Even when Harry and Ron had pulled her away on their adventures, she had still found her way back. But when Ron had proposed, her plans had altered slightly.

Instead of working to a strong career, focused solely on her ideal employment opportunity, Hermione entertained the idea of marriage. She had wanted to be with Ron for the rest of her life, to be his wife, to be the mother of his children. She had strayed slightly from that strict course she had stuck so rigidly to since her first letter from Hogwarts, and the train had derailed from there. The moment she had begun to follow her heart, her head had been distracted with thoughts of her fiancé. Emotions clouded her judgment so wholly that it made her dizzy. Her schoolwork, though still of the highest quality, had been completed in last minute rushes, the time she would usually devote to it instead spent talking to Ron.

With tearstained cheeks and the ring clasped so tightly in her palm that it had begun to cut into the skin, Hermione Granger vowed to return to her course, to stay away from the things that had sent her spiralling downwards before. Her heart, which had been fractured so easily just a few hours prior, was locked tightly away in her chest.

She unpacked carefully, securing all her belongings into the small wardrobe provided by the hotel until the room almost felt homey, and spread out her holiday homework across the bed. With a pot of tea brewing with a flick of her wand, she set to the task of working through the assignments and reading set by demanding professors. She had gotten a head start on the work before the break had truly begun, thinking she would be spending most of her time with Ron and wouldn't want it hanging over her head, but she was still forced to work until early evening before she could finally close her books.

Snow had begun to fall lightly over London, the streetlamps casting a soft pink glow against the white flakes. Wrapping herself in a coat and securing a scarf around her neck, beanie jammed down over her tangled curls, Hermione left the warmth of her hotel to find somewhere for dinner. There was a French restaurant around the corner, a small place which she had visited with her mother where the waiters had been kind and the food extraordinary. But as she took a seat, the host having given her a strange look when she asked for a table for one, Hermione realised the restaurant was full of couples. Some gushed over the romantic place settings, others stared across the candlelit table into their partner's eyes. She felt a bit ill as the waiter arrived with her water.

By the time she had finished her confit de canard, the restaurant had largely cleared out. She had noticed two couples leave before their mains had even be served, so wrapped up in each other that food was no longer a necessity. She deposited the last of her Muggle money on the table, leaving a generous tip for the poor waiter who had been forced to put up with her grouchy mood, and returned to the snowy London outside.

Though the stores had long since closed, window displays were scattered along the walk back to her hotel. She had never been particularly interested in fashion, tuning out Parvati and Lavender's discussion over the new designer dress robes in Witch Weekly, but she recognised a lovely item when she saw one. As her boots caught in the piles of snow which had begun to collect, Hermione paused outside a large department store window, mannequin clothed in a dress that seemed to shimmer without any movement. The rest of the display was unfinished but Hermione thought it should remain that way, keep the dress the star.

It pooled around the dummy in a sheath of silver, fitting snugly to the body until it dissolved into a skirt that would form a slight train. With her eyes closed, Hermione could imagine how it would catch the light with any movement and she felt an overwhelming sense of desire for the dress, one she had only possessed when she was in her Fourth Year and found the delightful periwinkle blue dress she had worn to the Yule Ball. Her mind drifted to the still perfectly preserved invitation from Narcissa Malfoy kept in her suitcase, the perfect occasion to wear such a garment.

Aware the dress would probably cost her a small fortune, Hermione decided to venture into Diagon Alley in the morning to withdraw some money, perhaps to spend on small items, perhaps on the gown. She had been seriously considering attending Narcissa's event over dinner now that her other plans would have fallen through. Despite their decision to remain close friends, she and Ron had agreed that they both needed some space before launching back into any sort of relationship, platonic or not, and so she had offered to do something else on New Year's Eve and allow him to enjoy celebrations with his family.

By the time she had returned to her hotel, snow settled on her shoulders and head in the clouds, Hermione had decided she would write to Draco and tell him she would attend his event, despite the awkwardness that would ensue with Theo. Her throat constricted for a moment, dreading having to walk through the halls of Malfoy Manor again. She reminded herself that if she began to feel ill or even react as badly as she had when the invitation had first been delivered that she could leave instantly.

After a hot shower and a pot of tea, wrapped in the hotel's complimentary dressing gown, she penned a short note to Draco and slipped it into her handbag, making a mental note to post it when she was in Diagon Alley the next day.

Malfoy Manor

5:30PM

Friday, December 27th, 1998

Draco,

I know it's late notice and I'm absolutely certain your mother has enough on her plate without the added stress of another guest, but would it be possible for me to attend her event on New Year's Eve? My other plans have fallen through and I really don't want to spend the evening by myself.

Love,

Hermione

P.S. Thank you so much for the Christmas present! I absolutely love it.

Draco knew it to be common practice for people to throw around the L-word with friends, and he was also aware that he was nowhere near that level of infatuation with the brainy witch, but it was still a term he had come across so rarely in his life and never failed to bring pink to his cheeks. He smiled again at her postscript and how pleased he had been to find a first edition ofHogwarts: A History entirely untouched in his family's library. It had taken some quick convincing of his mother with promises that it would win the Gryffindor over before he had been able to send it off.

He was also quite enamoured with the present Hermione had given him, a very rare book which held the diary entries of Mungo Bonham. He had spent most of his time since Christmas Day poring over the book, memorising its ancient pages and learning all the secrets of the great Healer. Having searched for the same book many times amongst the stacks of Flourish & Blotts, Whizz Hard Books, and even venturing into the often kooky Obscurus Books to find a copy. Each time he had been unsuccessful, finding the same copies of well-known diary entries, but never the rare journals penned by Bonham. He would make sure to question her when she came for the dinner over New Year's Eve.

He wrote a short reply, assuring Hermione that her presence was more than welcome though ensuring he didn't sound too eager in the process and sent it off using the same owl which had delivered her letter to him. The bird was a stock-standard barn owl, the kind used at the post office and the Owlery at school. It was nothing like Weasley's pathetic excuse for an owl. Draco had seen the small ball of feathers flutter around excitedly in the Great Hall when post had been delivered and he had heard its constant high-pitched twittering once or twice this year when Hermione had received mail. For a minute he wondered why she would be sending mail through an unfamiliar owl, mind racing through many preferable possibilities. Disgruntled, he settled on the idea that Weasley was sending some of his own mail and that the small owl couldn't carry more than a single slip of parchment without plummeting out of the sky.

The barn owl swept out of the open window with an elaborate spread of its wings and Draco checked he was presentable before going on a hunt for his mother. He followed the smell of fear that emanated off the help she had hired to set up the event, wizards and witches shuffling in, levitating tables and chairs and trying to place them around the ballroom of the East Wing to Narcissa's ever-changing standards.

"Draco, darling, unless you have very good news I suggest you go back to your room," she said when he tapped her on the shoulder, eyeing the clipboard and Quick Notes quill which hovered beside her. He saw that she had ticked off catering, flowers and music, but there were at least three other pages of requirements yet to be finalised.

"I think you'll see it as good news. Hermione has decided to come to your dinner, after all," he said, cringing as she neglected responding to him in favour of yelling at a wizard who had placed his table two inches too far right.

"That's wonderful news, dear," she smiled fleetingly and returned to scrutinising the last of the set-up. She gave a triumphant "Hah!" as the tables fell into perfect alignment. They were spaced with complete accuracy, allowing people to move easily throughout the room even in the busiest periods of movement during the evening. She ticked the box on her clipboard with a large check. "But you'll have to figure out where she's sitting, Draco. I simply haven't got the time to look over the seating chart again."

She pulled it out from under the pages of notes she was carrying, handing the card to him. His eyes focused on the table where he was to be sitting with Blaise, Daphne, and Ted, two seats spare. One was for Ted's date and the other his own and his trademark smirk crept along his face as he reorganised the seats. At its completion, the chart read that Theo was to wedged between Draco and an empty seat, barely able to even look at Hermione whilst they were all seated. The Gryffindor would be between Blaise and himself and Draco was certain he could capture her attentions for the whole evening, not allowing Theo a word in edgeways.

Malfoy Manor

7:30PM

Tuesday, December 31st, 1998

Hermione's body shimmered in the glow of the crystal chandelier, silver gown pooling at her feet in a soft train. She kept her eyes to the floor as she waited to stumble upon someone she might know, watching her shoes disappear under the piles of silk she dragged around.

"Hermione!"

It was Daphne's voice which pulled her to their mutual friends, the Slytherin girl beaming. She looked more elegant than ever, hair pulled into a tight chignon and a black dress hugging her body, contrasting flawlessly with her porcelain skin and light hair.

"Blaise proposed!" she said, drawing Hermione's eye to her main accessory, a glittering diamond ring. The rock was perfectly cut in a classic shape with a very ornately carved silver band holding the piece together. Hermione thought it truly was the loveliest ring she had ever seen and jealousy made her stomach drop for a few seconds. "Isn't it just exquisite?"

"Oh, congratulations, Daphne." Hermione kissed her friend's cheek and hugged her for a few seconds, smiling at Blaise over Daphne's shoulder. He looked as though he could hardly believe his luck, eyes never wavering from the blonde. The couple had been sitting with Draco and Theo, who both rose at her arrival. Draco offered her one of his rare smiles and Theo's lips twitched, cheeks red. She was dreading having thatconversation.

"How have your holidays been?" Blaise asked smoothly as Draco helped her into her chair and slid a glass of champagne to her. The lovebirds held hands atop the table and her left hand felt naked without her ring.

"Alright," she replied, sipping from her flute. She supposed that it was time for her to let go of the engagement even if it had only ended a handful of days ago, that there was no use in pretending everything was peachy keen. "I've spent the last few days in a hotel in Muggle London?"

"With Ronald?" Daphne asked, pretty features pinching into a frown when Hermione shook her head. "Why not?"

After a rather large gulp of champagne, her glass now half empty, Hermione held up her left hand and wiggled her fingers around. "We're taking a break. Or whatever is the nicest way to say we broke up."

With her eyes trained on her glass, Hermione missed Draco's reaction to her side, how his face momentarily lit up at her words, only to smooth over into their usual cool mask a half second later. From the corner of her eye, Hermione caught the edge of Theo's face looking very guilty, eyes cast to the floor. Daphne reached over to pat her arm gently, offering apologies which Hermione brushed away, assuring her it was a mutual decision, that she didn't need outrageous amounts of ice cream.

She changed the topic to Blaise and Daphne's romantic holiday away, getting all the details of the proposal out of the pair. Daphne and her beau were more than happy to oblige. Their conversation carried through dinner, a sumptuous five course meal designed entirely by Narcissa. At its conclusion, with two hours until the countdown began, dancing started in a large space close to an elaborate band. Daphne begged Theo to dance with her after Blaise refused. He promised his fiancé a dance when he was slightly more intoxicated, pouring himself another glass of champagne as she and Theo disappeared into the crowd.

"You two can go off an entertain yourselves, if you wish," Blaise said, sharing a look with Draco. "I won't be particularly entertaining."

"Would you like a tour of the house, then?" Draco directed his question to Hermione. "We would avoid certain areas, of course."

"A tour sounds lovely. I wouldn't mind some peace and quiet," she said, letting him help her to her feet.

With a hand resting softly in the crook of Draco's elbow, Hermione let him lead the way from the grand room and into the cool hush of the Manor. The music was left behind the ballroom doors with the heating charms and Hermione tried to hide a shiver, but the tremor was caught by her companion's keen eyes.

Before she could protest, Draco slung his suit jacket over her shoulders in lieu of performing a simple heating charm. The intimate, gentlemanly gesture send a light blush to her cheeks and she thanked Godric that the lighting was low. Their tour began with a visit to the Rose Parlour, so named for its delicate pink walls and a vase of white roses which Narcissa kept alive magically, Draco informed her. Each room was more decadent than the last but they remained lovely in Hermione's eyes. She felt her breath get taken away with every detail Draco pointed out, the extraordinary lengths his mother had gone to with her decorating scheme.

As they visited parlours and quaint sitting rooms and two games rooms, Hermione could scarcely believe that this was the same Malfoy Manor she had paid her unfortunate visit to just a few months earlier. While she could just remember dark stone and a dank smell of her time with Bellatrix, what she saw was the complete opposite. Each room was full of warm tones and hardwood floors, rugs on every floor, plush couches reminding her more of the Gryffindor Common Room than the Dungeons of Hogwarts. She felt herself growing to adore the house as Draco led her about.

But, out of the whole East Wing of Malfoy Manor, it was the final room that floored her.

Draco had spoken of his family's private library, the vast collection of books it boasted, but this had to be larger than even the library at Hogwarts. There were floor to wall bookshelves with tomes on every subject she could think of, magical and Muggle. Fiction and non-fiction texts were scattered about and alcoves were placed sporadically throughout the room with plush seats and large fireplaces. Kicking off her shoes to enable a quicker pace, Hermione disappeared between the stacks.

Draco started a fire in an alcove close to the back with a glorious view of his family's estate, using his wand to light a few candles and lanterns to give the area a cosy orange glow. Hermione unceremoniously dropped her shoes to the floor with a clatter. He let her explore, trailing behind to hold the books she piled into his arms as they roamed. He promised to let her borrow all the books she wished at the evening's conclusion when they returned to their fireplace and realised there was just a half hour until the midnight countdown. She instructed him to place the stack of books on the coffee table and settled herself on the loveseat, tucking her legs beside her on the settee.

Draco joined her, stretching his limbs out. "Stop me if you believe I'm out of line," he said, angling his torso towards her, "but why did you and Weasley end it?"

She took a few moments to answer, looking into the hearth. Draco continued to watch her face, how the light flickered against her exquisite bone structure, the way her tongue lightly wet her lips before she spoke. "Long distance didn't agree with us," she said. "We've always argued, ever since the day we met. But it was just that when we would see each other on whatever rare occasion, the whole event would just be spoiled by our fights. We just weren't ready for it."

He could tell there was something more, a piece of information she was holding back. "And?" he prompted.

Hermione nibbled on her lower lip for a couple of seconds before responding and Draco realised he might not want to know. "I did something really stupid," she admitted. "We had a fight on Christmas night and I was so angry and I just had to get away from him. I went to the Leaky Cauldron just to be by myself but Theo was there."

Draco felt as though he had been whacked in the stomach by a Bludger.

"And I had quite a bit of Firewhiskey and I was just so upset. I don't know what I was thinking…I mustn't have been thinking, I suppose. But I kissed him," she said. His vision seemed blurred but he could still see how the colour had drained from her face, how her lips puckered down at the corners. "Just once," she added quickly, "and it wasn't very nice. I had been crying and I just wanted someone to comfort me. When I realised what I was doing, I stopped immediately and went back to Ron's. I told him what happened the next morning and we agreed it wasn't working between us."

"And Theo?" Draco was barely able to choke the words out, unable to keep up even the faintest trace of his usual demeanour.

She blinked at him, eyes wide. "I haven't talked to him since, not even tonight, if you didn't notice at dinner. I don't have those sort of feelings for him."

Draco felt his lungs inflate, his shoulders slump slightly with the relief that washed over him. Hermione stood and he watched as her bared legs disappear under the long layers of fabric that moved around her body in an elegant dance. She moved close to the large window in their alcove, looking out upon the grounds. Her body too far away for their conversation to continue with any ease, Draco joined her beside the window, placing his hands a few inches away from hers on the sill.

"Do you know why most Western cultures dictate that people should kiss at the stroke of midnight?" she asked, continuing when he shook his head. "Tradition says that if a person remains without a kiss, the coming year will be full of bad luck and loneliness. There's a particular Scottish celebration which I attended when I was eight where, when the clock strikes twelve, you're supposed to try and kiss as many people in the room as possible. I was chased around by one boy until nearly one o'clock after I refused to kiss him. He insisted I was going to curse him with so much bad luck it'd make his head spin."

She finished seconds before a burst of light shone outside the window, the first firework of the New Year shimmering against the starry sky. In perfect synchronization, they turned to face each other.

"Happy New Year, Draco," she said. He watched colours and light glitter across her cheeks, the whole room illuminated from the fireworks

"Happy New Year, Hermione."

Draco leaned down hesitantly, watching her expression, ready to pull back at the first sign that would impose humiliation upon him. And maybe it was the champagne at dinner that did it, or perhaps the warmth of the fire they were bathed in, but something prompted her to rise onto her toes, closing the gap between them.

Later in life, Draco would look back on that evening as one of the most glorious nights of his life and his first kiss with Hermione Granger would rank in the Top Three Kisses In History. Her lips were soft and hesitant against his at first, slightly sticky from the light sheen of gloss she was wearing. But they were sweet and warm and tasted of strawberries and he felt dizzy when her hands snaked into his hair. He kissed her more passionately then, hoping the moment would never end, believing that if he died in that very second then he would die a very happy wizard.

It ended all too soon for him, Hermione breaking off the kiss with the end of the fireworks display at two minutes past midnight. He wondered if he had made her cheeks flush so brilliantly or if the fire was too warm, but the O her mouth formed, corners turned upwards, made him swell slightly with pride.

"That was…" Hermione said, bringing her hand to her lips to touch against them briefly. Draco watched her eyes dance and sparkle, chest heaving as she breathed in and out quickly. "Oh."

"Happy New Year," he bade again. "If that was too much for you then I apologise," he added when she remained frozen on the spot, hand still pressed to her lips. His own tingled in response to their exchange and his face felt warm, stomach fluttering lightly with happiness.

"No," she said. "It wasn't too much. I just don't know if I should have done it." His face must have mirrored the drop of his stomach because she quickly amended her statement. "No, I don't mean it like that. But I just broke up with Ron. Less than a week ago, I was sure I'd found the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with. I was so ready to marry him. And then I went and kissed Theo and who knows if that friendship will recover, and now I've gone and messed things up between us."

Draco had never seen Hermione look so flustered, eyes brimming with unshed tears, words spilling out in jumbled messes. "Do you regret it?" he asked her.

A few moments of silence passed between them, broken only by the crackling of the fire. "No."

"Neither do I," Draco said. He paused for almost a full minute, staring into the hearth and choosing his next words with precision. "You must be aware of how I feel about you by now. That kiss only solidified my feelings. If you don't have the same attachment towards me, I'll understand completely. I will leave you in peace and I won't pressure you to do anything. I'm willing to give you as much time as you need to figure out what you're feeling and where you want to go with your life. All I ask for is that, no matter what, our friendship remains."

She looked at him with teary eyes, a few racing down her cheeks at his words. He restrained himself from reaching forward to brush the drops of salt water away. "Of course," she said and stepped forward to hug him, surprise knocking him back a step before he came to his senses and wrapped his arms around her. There had been very little physical contact between them in their relationship, but as he held her for those few seconds, Draco was amazed at how perfectly they seemed to fit together.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "We should get back to the ballroom before my mother sends out a search party." He handed her the shoes she had abandoned so carelessly upon their arrival in the library, waiting beside the window as she readjusted the straps and did up the small buckle. Draco kept his eyes on her as nimble fingers fixed the shoes to her feet, replaying their kiss in his mind. The taste of strawberries still lingered on his lips as she stood and fixed her hair with a few small pats.

As her heels clicked their way out of the library, Draco slinging on his jacket, Hermione groaned. When he tilt his head as a means of inquiry, she sighed. "What are your friends going to think?" she said as he helped her down the stairs, her hand once again resting in the crook of his arm. A few guests were milling about in the corridors, taking a breather from the raucous dancing which would no doubt be taking place in the ballroom.

"You probably don't want to know," he admitted. Blaise would no doubt be thinking Draco had simply leapt into bed with the Gryffindor. The Italian wizard had made it clear he and Daphne were trying to get Draco some alone time with Hermione, Daphne dragging Ted to the dance a neatly orchestrated plan. His other best mate would certainly be furious at him and spurred on by jealousy though he would never try to create a scene in the middle of his mother's celebration.

As he predicted, when the large doors to the ballroom swung open, the pair were nearly knocked backwards by the loud music. It was a fast waltz, Draco recognising it as one of his mother's favourites. Elaborate dresses twirled around the dance floor led by dapper gentlemen. He sensed Hermione's unwillingness to dance and instead led her back to their table where Daphne and Blaise were sitting, both looking weary. They were collecting their things, preparing themselves to leave.

"I should probably go home, too," Hermione said, picking up the small bag she had abandoned on the table prior to their walk.

"I'll walk you all out," Draco offered, letting Daphne and Hermione take the lead as he lagged behind, waiting for Blaise to finish pretending to tie his shoe. "Take any longer with that and I won't tell you anything."

"So something did happen," Blaise clarified, raising an eyebrow. He had taken on the same tone he used whenever Draco would have to sneak back into the Slytherin Common Room after a late party, hair ruffled and grinning like a fool, though Draco's stories would never quite live up to his expectations.

"You sound like a fourteen year old Hufflepuff." Draco rolled his eyes and tucked his hands into his pockets as they walked out of the room, Daphne and Hermione ten paces in front and talking quietly. Draco could see Daphne's excitement in her smile, Hermione no doubt opening up to her about what had just occurred in the library. "We snogged. Once."

It took Draco three steps to realise Blaise had stopped. "You snogged once? But you two were gone for hours. How could you only get one snog in there?"

"I don't know, maybe because she just ended things with her fiancé?" Draco asked sarcastically. "And keep your voice down." Blaise just rolled his eyes but clapped Draco on the back in congratulations. "Where's Ted?"

"Want to rub it in his face?" Blaise asked. "He went off with some witch after you and Granger disappeared. He looked pissed, Drake. Have fun dealing with the backlash from that one." The Italian wizard quickened his pace and wrapped an arm around his fiancé as they reached the apparition safe-zone for the evening. He smirked at Hermione and offered a cheeky, "Later, Granger," before they disappeared with a crack.

"You told him?" Hermione asked, rounding on him. Draco put his hands up defensively, identifying the almost audible crackle of anger in her hair.

"He's my best mate, Granger," Draco said. "What does it really matter? You told Daphne who would have told Blaise everything the second they got back to his place. Besides, it won't amount to anything, anyway, so it's not like him knowing can do much damage, if any at all."

"You don't know it won't amount to anything," she said, crossing her arms bossily. After a few moments she gave a resolute sigh and let her arms drop to her sides, stepping closer to him. "I don't want to end tonight on a sour note. I've had enough fighting to last me ten lifetimes and tonight was so nice that I don't want to spoil it. I had an amazing time, so thank you."

To his shock again, she hugged him once more. But the real surprise came when she rocked unsteadily on her toes to kiss his cheek lightly. He wanted to turn his head slightly, to pull her in for another kiss as explosive as the one they had shared in the library at the toll of midnight, but instead he let her pull away when she wished.

"Goodnight, Granger," he said as she moved away and vanished from sight.

London Aquarium

11:00AM

Friday, January 3rd, 1999

Hermione tucked her hands deeper into the pockets of her coat, bracing against the bitter wind of London's winter. She had written to Draco the day before, having devoted the previous forty-eight hours to figuring out her feelings, compartmentalising them and creating several lists of pros and cons, and she wanted to get this all over with before school resumed on the Monday. Her foot tapped an unsteady rhythm against icy pavement, an unconscious movement to keep warm.

She was unexperienced when it came to relationships. Her experience with males only spanned two men (three if she counted Cormac but she often decided to discount him in her tally) and neither had been entirely conventional relationships. Becoming involved with a world renowned Quidditch player in her fourth year had been one of the more erratic decisions of her life, though she had found Viktor charming and handsome in his own unique way. They had been surrounded by press and forced to keep their relationship a secret, conversing only through letters until she had been able to sneak away of the summer period to Bulgaria. Her relationship with Ron had been tumultuous from the start with her love-hate relationship for the redhead which only culminated in a proper coupledom when he kissed her out of the blue in the Final Battle and they ended up engaged just a handful of weeks later.

With such little experience under her belt, she was never sure how to address situations like this. Viktor had been the first to display any interest in her and since then the tally of suitors remained short. It wasn't as though Hermione thought herself unattractive, but more that she had never believed herself to be desirable by any standard. Viktor's interest had brought about a schoolgirl crush, Cormac's had made her feel self-conscious and frustrated at his persistence, and Ron's was just a shock. Now, having both Draco and Theo interested in her was just confusing and only served to add to her teetering pile of things to fret over.

"Why are we meeting here, Granger?"

She jumped at the sound of Draco's voice in her ear and whirled around to face him, the shock warming her up a few degrees. "You scared the life out of me," she said, placing a hand on her heart in an exaggerated flourish. "Do you want to go inside? It's one of my favourite places."

He quirked a brow at her but gestured for her to lead the way with a light touch on her lower back. She bit her lip in an attempt to distract herself from the physical contact, nibbling it as they made their way to the ticket booth. Draco passed her a quizzical look as she passed over the Muggle money to the teller and she was certain the mass of notes made no sense to her companion as they took their tickets and shuffled through.

"What is this place?" Draco asked, staring at the Muggles who swarmed about as they peered into tanks. He moved towards the interactive part of the aquarium, where small children stood on their toes to run their fingers along coral or pick up delicate starfish. Draco looked over their heads and frowned. "Is this what Muggles do for fun?"

She grabbed his arm and tugged him away through the crowds and into one of the less frequently visited exhibitions. The room held a large tank against one wall, fish lazily bobbing along in the blue water, the occasional tropical fish gliding, showing off for the visitors. "It's an aquarium, Draco. They put all sorts of aquatic life in here and people are able to come and look at the animals they wouldn't normally be able to see," Hermione explained. "Out there, where all the children were, was where people can touch some of the animals, like starfish. I came here when it first opened in 1987 with my parents, just before…"

Hermione ignored Draco's questioning glance as she took a seat in front of the tank, not enthusiastic about the idea of discussing her parents. "I wanted to talk to you about the other night," she said, gesturing for him to join her. He sat beside her on the bench, legs crossed at the knee. "And you're just going to have to let me blurt it all out or else I'll never say it, and I really need to get it off my chest for the sake of my own sanity." Draco waved his hand in a gesture for her to continue, eyes on the tank as marine life bobbed along.

"I'm not very good at this," she continued. "Feelings, I mean. I have no problem with brewing complex potions or tricky wandwork, but as soon as it comes to emotions, I suppose I'm a complete novice, particularly those with romantic inclinations. I don't know how I feel about you. There's attraction on some obvious level, but I think that there may be something deeper to my feelings towards you. However, at this point in time, I'm not prepared to act on them. I just broke up with my fiancé, I'm a complete mess from The War, and I have far too much work to focus on having another relationship which would no doubt end up tumultuous. Plus, as much as you may have changed, others may not see it as clearly as I do, and I'm not willing to sacrifice friendships on endeavours of the heart just yet."

"So, what you're saying is that we're just going to be friends," Draco surmised. Hermione noticed his eyes were cold and focused firmly on the fish tank, refusing to even glance at her. "Fine."

"That's not what I'm saying, Draco," she said, taking a chance and reaching across to squeeze his hand. The contact made him look at her for a few seconds, a glimmer of something she thought must be hope in his eyes. "I'm attracted to you, but I'm not going to dive into another relationship right now." She released his hand, placing her own back in her lap. "But if you give me some time, things may change. And for now, I don't want to lose you as a friend."

She neglected to mention how she had dreamt of him for the last two nights, how the kiss they had shared had been the most explosive of her life no matter how inexperienced she was in that particular department. There was no mention of how he made her stomach flutter or just how attractive she found him or even how much she simply loved his company. Hermione had made a promise to herself that she was to lock her heart away in a vault and Merlin be damned, she was not about to break that vow less than a fortnight later.

Draco nodded and stood in a fluid motion, holding a hand out to help her up. "I said the other night that I would respect your decision," he said, pulling Hermione to her feet. "I also said that I'm willing to wait, and I still am. Until you're ready, Hermione."

She shivered at his use of her given name, so used to how he usually addressed her by her last. Catching a smirk on his face at her reaction, Hermione slapped him lightly on the arm. "You can't be an arse about this, okay?"

"I'm always an arse to you," he countered.

"Not always," she muttered, leading him out of the room and into the interactive part of the aquarium. She would have liked to spend the day there, like she had with her parents on that outing that seemed a lifetime ago, but spending any more time with Draco would have given him the wrong impression, of that she was sure. Hermione may not have had much knowledge of relationships, but she had good intuition and common sense.

The cold weather licked at their skin again as they emerged back onto the icy street. "I should go. I'm supposed to be meeting Blaise and Ted for lunch," Draco said. "See you at school, Granger."

Hermione had gathered that Draco was unfamiliar with hugs, particularly shocked by her embraces, but that didn't stop her from wrapping her arms around him in farewell. "Goodbye, Draco."