I don't own HP, or anything affiliated with our leader J.K Rowling.

She broke the kiss first and looked up at Theo with an eyebrow raised.

"Hello sailor. So is this happening or are we going to act like this was a dream."

His face splintered into a smile "I'm pretty sure this is happening because despite you being incredibly charismatic, charming and clever, you also happen to be devastatingly sexy."

"This is news to me."

"Mmm, not to me" His face met hers again and their so called "dance" began again.

Their extra curricular activities halted as the sun went behind a cloud. End of September was chilly and both shivered slightly, it might have been the weather, it may have been the person standing next to the other. The walk back to the castle took quite a lot longer than the walk there. Too many… distractions. Reaching Hogwarts, Hermione saw two redheads and a mop of unruly black hair coming through the fate. She looked panicked, eyes wide, eyebrows high bordering on her bangs, weighing every pro and con of this possible situation. Theo watched her reading her face. Finally turning to him, "Okay Nott, not that I don't like you but now is not the time to meet the friends especially as you've had no time to prep for the barrage of questions and also I am completely sure that my hair looks ridiculous, as does yours" He nodded, Now might not be the time to meet Hermione's closest her hair looking as if it had a life of his own and two suspicious red purple marks on his neck he was unsure as to how good an impression he would make, with that thought he squeezed her hand and then proceeded to run in the opposite direction. The others hadn't spotted him, so he was safe. Wrong. Running from Hermione bowled him into his best friend. "Draco? Where have you been mate?"

"Where have I been? Where have you been? What have you been doing, or rather, whom have you been doing?"

Theo knew that something was up, "…I was with Hermione? Remember?"

"Oh don't I know you were with her! I was there. I saw everything."

"You followed us?"

"Yes and some fucking great best friend you are. You were meant to talk me up, but you just used the time for flirting."

Theo lost it.

"Can it Malfoy, leave her alone. Its not serious, we were just kissing, its not a marriage proposal."

"Oh Nott, Oh great backstabber of supposed best friends. What was your plan? Tell me you'd talk me up to the girl I've been thinking about non-fucking-stop since third fucking year. But then instead get with her yourself. Fuck you. I thought you fucking got it."

"Like you're so high and mighty, you don't like Hermione you like the chase. You like the dance. Well what the fuck are you going to do when the music stops? When you get the partner you want? Just fucking leave her. You've done nothing to prove you can hold a functioning relationship with anyone. Not Pansy, not your mom, not your dad. Your entire life revolves around money, not people."

Both boys were silent. They didn't talk like this, both of them avoided confrontation because it was just fucking easier. Because after a war it can't go back to how it was before. It would never be exactly the same. Too many people had died, too many friends crucioed, tortured beyond belief. And two scared seventeen-year-old friends had been the best they could be to each other, always trying to take their minds off the horrors that had been their lives. It was crippling trying to remember and forget years of your life. To lie about what you had been forced to do, the humiliation and isolation of that followed. Paraded through the public eye the daily prophet, heckled by strangers in the street. Death threats, relocations, calls for them to die. How is a person meant to put up with that and still come out the other end with no mental health issues? Fuck it, how is someone who's practically a child meant to put up with it?

It wasn't about Hermione. It wasn't about a girl. As Draco walked away hot tears began dripping down his face each leaving a burning trail of shame.

Theo sat down in the road and sprawled upon the rough pillow of grass cradling his head. He had gone too far to bring Draco's parents into their fight. He stayed there until the ground felt cold and he could not feel his toes. As he began to make his way towards the castle and the sanctuary of his study he could not help but feel his emotions slowly fade to nothing. A shallow skin of the man he could've been. When he was finally slumped in a now pink squashy velvet chair in the common room (he could tell Hermione had been redecorating) he felt drained. Though there was evidence Hermione had been in the room, actual Hermione was not in sight. That was because actual Hermione had managed to stumble upon a very drunk and very distraught Draco in the prefects bathroom. He was lying next to a full bath wrapped in a large white bathrobe with a bottle of Jack in his hand. Hermione had walked in on this sight and had felt immediately like laughing. That was until she saw dreadful Malfoy looked. Now he was propped up against her, both sitting with their feet in the hot soapy water. Neither of them were talking, but both seemed to share a mutual understanding that this was not going to be talked about ever. Draco's hand rested on top of Hermione's. It was strange to see two people who seemed so different could sit there so harmoniously. It was harmonious until Drunk Draco thought that it would be hilarious to shove Hermione into the water. He sat there giggling at her astounded face until she finally cracked a smile. "That's the first time I've made you laugh" He mumbled as she pulled herself out of the water. "I know" she said. The two of them sat there for a minute longer until Hermione stood and pulled Malfoy to his feet, put his arm around her shoulder and began to lead him to the Slytherin dungeons. The castle was seemingly quiet and when they reached the dungeons Hermione banged at the wall. Draco slumped onto the floor and began to giggle again "You'll never guess the password",

"I suppose you're not going to tell me?"

"Absolutely not, you won a war, you have to figure it out."

It was too late to "figure it out" and Hermione slumped next to the drunk boy. Together they dozed until they were awoken by the sound of a throat being cleared;

Yeah I know, I need to update/write faster, however it's difficult and stuff. Cool. Requests and stuff are awesome for those of us suffering from writers block. I don't expect you to read this but shout outs for all those people who favorite this story/me as an author/followed this story/who like spaghetti…all of you are cool.