I hope this update will deliver since I teased you about a kiss in my last update. Thank you to the reader on AO3 who recommended the song Once in a Lifetime by Landon Austin to me. I've since added it to my playlist for my summer fics, and listen to it frequently with a few others while I write this.

Thank you to mhcalamas for being my favorite cheerleader and being available to look this over.

And to my twitter friend who knows who she is.

A few days later, a letter arrived. Hermione's lips were pressed into a thin line as she turned the parchment over in her hands. Slowly, she raised her head and met the gaze of Draco and Padma. "I'll be at the dock if you need anything. I'd like to read this in private."

The scrawl across the front of the letter was unmistakable. Lead formed in her stomach as she rose from the table. Down the table, she caught the sight of Isobel snatching a piece of toast from Henry's hand, moments after he'd nicked it for himself. Hermione grinned before stepping over the bench.

"Weasley then?" Draco asked. He arched an eyebrow, raising his pumpkin juice to his mouth.

Hermione nodded. "So it would seem." She left them with that, hurrying down the beaten path.

There were still Death Eaters on the loose, but she tried not to dwell on it much. She might lose her head if she did. She'd expected to hear from Ron, though she'd been worried he might just visit her in person instead. Hermione settled at the end of the dock, making sure to avoid the board she'd broken a few days previously.

She gave herself a few moments to listen to the water moving below her, the wind rustling the trees around her. Birds took flight just over her head, spreading their wings as they soared over the Great Lake. At the count of ten, muttered nervously under her breath, Hermione tore the letter open.

Hermione

Harry says I was a prat to you, but he doesn't think you should be friends with Malfoy either. Mum was a little worried when I told her—in my own fit of anger, I said you must be shacking up with a Death Eater; I'm sorry—so you might expect to receive a letter from her.

Ginny told me that I can't tell you who you can be friends with and that if I try, I'm only going to push you away. For fuck's sake, I don't want to push you away. You're my best friend, but Malfoy?

What are you thinking? I don't understand it much, but I realise after being hit with a Bat Bogey hex that I should try to understand. Or that's what Ginny told me. She says that obviously, Malfoy must have changed, or you wouldn't give him a second thought.

Just...respond, would you? After the scene in the atrium with that gigantic group hug, I'm assuming Malfoy isn't going anywhere, but neither am I.

Hoping to hear from you soon,

Ron

She read it twice just to let it sink in. His maturity surprised her, despite knowing it was only due to his mother and sister telling him exactly what he should hear. When she'd made her way down to the dock, she hadn't been intending to send a reply, not when his letter was sure to be all accusations and house prejudices.

Until it wasn't that.

Sighing, Hermione rose to her feet and made her way back. Not one person had moved from their spots, she saw, and Lisa was playing wizards chess with Draco. Hermione didn't stop to say anything as she went straight to her cabin. Grabbing a muggle pen, she returned to the table alongside everyone else and drafted a letter.

She was well aware that Draco was reading over her shoulder, even though she angled herself to hide it. He plucked Ron's letter out from under her arm, reading it silently to himself. If he had anything to say—judging by his furrowed brows and clenched jaw, he did—Draco remained silent.

Ron

You're absolutely right.

You can't tell me who I can and cannot be friends with. It's asinine that you would think that you could. Draco is a friend, a rather close one now, so I'm hurt that you would jump to a conclusion that I'm just shagging him. You couldn't be farther from the truth, and you should be ashamed of yourself.

And you're right again—Draco isn't going anywhere.

I can't explain it; I don't think you would understand, at least not when you're so certain that he's an evil git. He's scarred by the war too, and sometimes he understands how I feel. It's a friendship built on the mutual fact that we're haunted. I know he made terrible choices, I know that, but it doesn't mean that he's irredeemable.

He's proved what sort of man he is to me, and that's all that matters to me.

I don't want us to drift apart, Ron, but if you ever insinuate he should have died to me again, I'll truly see no other option.

I hope the next letter you send is more lighthearted than this. How is Auror training now? How are you recovering?

Hermione

Hermione was woken in the early morning hours before the sun rose by a knock on her door. Rubbing her eyes, she slipped her feet into her trainers and opened the door. Standing right on her doorstep was Michael, and he was rubbing the back of his neck.

"Were you sleeping?"

She tilted her head to the side. Motioning a hand to her pyjamas, she nodded. "What do I owe this visit to?"

His shoulder slumped as he ran a hand through his hair. "Well," he began softly, and the Draco's door swung open to the right of them.

Draco peeked his head out, and Hermione caught the way his eyes narrowed. "What's going on?" he asked.

"It seems multiple of our children have broken curfew," Michael said. "Pretty sure they cast silencing charms on our rooms so we wouldn't know as well."

Hermione summoned a jacket, wrapping it tightly around her shoulders as she padded down the steps. "Where are they?"

"Why don't you put on some actual clothes, Granger?" Draco drawled. His eyes lazily trailed up her body, slowing as he looked over her legs.

If Michael hadn't been right there, she would have asked him why he cared at all. "I'll be fine. It's just a pair of shorts." Hermione replied. Turning to Michael, and untangling her messy hair with her fingers, she asked, "Where are they?"

There was a chorus of laughs right over their head, and Hermione looked up in horror. To her surprise, they weren't on brooms at all. Rather they were riding thestrals as they ripped through the camp, leaves scattering from the trees as they did so.

"Shite, they're up!" Henry called, and Draco rumbled with laughter.

Hermione folded her arms over her chest. Struck speechless, she could only shake her head. "You've got to be shitting me," Hermione grumbled.

Draco burst into laughter.

Michael was grinning ear to ear as he slid his hands into his pockets, staring up.

Henry was in the front, with Adelaide closely following behind. Seated just behind Adelaide was Isobel, who was gripping the Slytherin girl's waist tightly. Olivia Warbeck was higher than the rest of them, taking the reigns of the thestral and rolling through the air.

"Don't do that, Olivia!" Hermione shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth. "Get back on the ground right now!"

They didn't listen.

"Let them be," Draco said.

She gaped at him. "You're kidding. What if they fall?"

He shrugged. "It's not as if it's any worse than a broom. Plus, we're watching them. If they fall, we can cast a cushioning charm. If it makes them this happy…"

Michael agreed. "It's not a big deal. Hermione and I can stay out here to watch them. You can head back to sleep if you want."

Shaking his head, Draco took a small, but still noticeable step toward her. "Granger and I need to discuss something anyway." When Michael made no movement to leave, he added, "Privately."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's fine. You must be tired still, Michael."

Dismissed without much of a choice, Michael dragged his feet as he moved toward the Ravenclaw cabin.

She lifted her head, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I thought the two of you were getting along." They had been. Since the Lestrange attack, there had not been one foul thing said about Malfoy.

He kicked the rocks that were in his way as they made their way to the table they always sat at. Draco sat on top of it, rather than on the bench, and patted the spot next to him. "We get along fine. I wanted to talk to you."

Hermione crossed her legs, tugging her shorts down to an acceptable length. Maybe she should have changed. She wasn't so comfortable with her thighs being on complete display. "About?"

"Weasley's letter,"

"It was rude of you to grab something that didn't belong to you."

"And it was rude of him to tell his mother that you were shacking up with me as if you were some sort of Death Eater whore," Draco said coldly. His fingers tapped against his knee, and though they were meant to be watching the daredevil race right above their heads, he didn't look away from her.

Hermione couldn't pull her gaze away from him. She swallowed with some difficulty, pulling at the frayed strands of her jacket. "He doesn't think that about me." She whispered.

"If he's complained about this to anyone who will listen, and I'm sure that he has given his inability to keep his mouth shut—"

"Tread carefully, Malfoy," she muttered.

"—then it's only a matter of time before someone else says it. Being my friend isn't doing you any favours."

She stared at him, her cheeks flushed. "I told him we weren't shagging," Hermione said, unsure of why she was so breathless. "He was jealous. He's probably still jealous, but he's protective, and given everything—"

Draco hand curled into a fist from where it rested on his knee. "I don't want someone to judge you because of me."

She blinked, her lips parting and her heartbeat slowing to an unsteady rhythm in her chest. "What?"

"Weasley's reaction," Draco cleared his throat. "It's only the beginning if you continue to—"

"I dare you to finish that sentence." It was a growl rolling off the tip of her tongue, and Hermione slid closer to him. Her knee knocked against his, and she leaned closer.

So close that she finally noticed that one of his eyes was darker than the other, but only barely.

"Finish that sentence." She breathed. "And I'll tell the entire Wizarding World just what I think about you to get it over with."

She thought she may have imagined the way his gaze flicked to her lips, darkening as it did. His face neared hers, and her heartbeat was loud in her ears.

"Humor me, what is that you think of me?" Draco asked.

She thought he was going to kiss her.

She was pretty sure that she wouldn't stop him as his head tilted to the side and her eyes fluttered shut. His fingers wound into her flattened curls, curling into her hair, and pulling at her scalp.

A sound escaped her, but she wasn't sure how to categorize it.

Not quite a moan, but maybe a whimper.

There was a crash, followed by someone bursting into tears that was then followed by, "Merlin, stop crying! I think you only broke an arm."

Hermione ripped away from Draco, a heavy regret settling into her chest as she looked at him. Her chest was still heaving, and she wanted to lean forward for just a quick moment.

For just long enough to satiate her curiosity so she could know how his lips felt. "A broken arm?" Hermione gasped, swinging her legs over the side of the table and hurrying toward the crash. "Which one of you is hurt?"

It was Henry, who was sheepishly staring up at her. "Miss Granger,"

She dragged a hand down her face.

His arm was certainly broken. Which she should have been completely distracted by, but Draco stood just behind her, the heat from his body burning into her back. "Up you go," Draco said, holding his hand out. "I think that will be the last time any of you rides the thestrals." It wasn't a question. He glared at the children.

Whether it was because Henry was hurt, or because they had been interrupted, Hermione didn't know.

Every time Draco was near her, her heart would start pounding in her chest, and she didn't like it one bit. Hermione wasn't so foolish that she hadn't noticed her crush on her newfound friend before, but now…

Now he seemed to reciprocate that, and she wasn't sure what to think about that.

She'd sat in her own cabin for an hour that morning, seated in the middle of her bathroom floor with Crooks curled up in her lap. In her mental list of pros and cons, well, it wasn't getting her anywhere.

Lisa had knocked her door open, nearly blasting it off the hinges when she'd encountered a complex locking spell. Kicking it shut with her foot, she stomped toward Hermione. With her hands on her hips, Lisa didn't leave any room for Hermione to escape. "Tell me what happened, and remember I'll know if you lie."

"Nothing happened," Hermione said.

"Bullshit. I notice how you hide whenever something out of the norm happens with Draco. And he's a right twat today, so I know something happened this morning after the two of you sent Michael away."

Hermione traced the grout of the white title below her. "What do you mean Draco is—"

Lisa rolled her eyes. "I mean that when I asked him where you were, he snapped 'I don't know. Do I look like her fucking keeper?' at me. Padma is certain he believes that you're avoiding him now."

"I'm not."

"Right, and you're just holed up in your room at three in the afternoon for nothing."

"I have a headache."

"Hermione, please," Lisa sat across from her.

"He was going to kiss me," Hermione muttered. "We were interrupted when Henry was hurt."

After a quick trip to Madam Pomfrey, who was in the midst of leaving for a holiday, the boy was all patched up.

"And you're avoiding him because of that?" Lisa's expression was puzzled at best. "I don't understand."

Her shoulders slumped. "I don't want to hear him tell me that it was a mistake." She muttered.

"You're not this stupid. I know you're not." Lisa laughed. "Hermione, if anything he's going to kiss you again."

Hermione glanced around the room. "I guess I'm worried about that too. Ron and I just broke up. I don't think I should be snogging anyone really, or losing my head over crushes."

Lisa scooted across the floor, wrapping an arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Let me tell you something. You're allowed to feel however you do, no apologies required. You don't need to feel guilty because you haven't been separated from Ron very long. If you care for Draco, and it's pretty clear that you do, that's completely okay."

Hermione sighed. "Is it obvious that I'm hiding?"

"I'm fairly certain he would have broken the door if I hadn't come in first." She squeezed Hermione's shoulder. "Also, remember how Draco was teaching you how to fly? We're having that quidditch match now, so get a move on."

"Splendid," Hermione growled.

When she agreed to play Quidditch, Hermione should have said that she intended to float mid-air while doing her best to not be struck by a bludger. She could barely fly. How on earth was she going to play a game that would only go as well as it could if you could fly.

She was trying not to look at the ground.

When it came to teams, they were still slightly uneven, but she was on Michael's. Draco had been named the opposing team's captain, as well as their Seeker. It was a bit of an unfair advantage when one thought about it, considering their Seeker was Michael.

He wasn't bad per se, but he was definitely not of the same calibre.

Bludgers were flying left and right as she ducked. Bursts of laughter surrounded her and it was impossible not to grin. For the most part, the game was easy going. At least it wasn't quite as dangerous as that morning.

"Hermione, get your head down!" Draco shouted.

Well, it would appear she'd spoken too soon.

Hermione broom buckled below her as soon as the bludger met her stomach, and then she was falling. Unlike the last time, she wasn't falling toward open water, but solid ground instead.

While still fumbling for her wand, Hermione remembered the blast of magic that slowed her free fall, but pain exploded from behind her eyes, and she was falling into darkness.

"Granger," someone said. The voice was a familiar rasp, and fingers were sliding up her arms. "Come on. Wake up."

She groaned. "Why is it so fucking bright?" Hermione's voice was rough, her throat dry as she opened her eyes.

Draco was hovering over her, his eyes softening as she opened hers. "That's the sun." He answered, and she realised the fingers that had been running along the inside of her forearm were his. "Drink this." He eased her up, sliding an arm around her back and propping her up. "You still hit your head pretty hard. This should help."

She greedily swallowed the pain potion. Around her, Lisa and Padma were sitting off to the side of her. "What happened?" Hermione asked.

Padma was the one to answer. "Well, Draco slowed you down, but the bludger still hit you. Michael dodged it, but he sent it directly at you."

No wonder her head felt like it had been stomped by a hippogriff.

"I should have stopped it, but there wasn't enough time," Draco muttered. He looked away from her.

Right, they hadn't spoken since the near kiss.

The pain potion quickly took effect, and Draco walked with her back to camp. She was immediately being tugged in every which direction by various campers, all of them asking if she was okay. She smiled. "I'm fine."

"No thanks to Corner." Draco sneered.

Dinner passed slowly, and even though the pain lacing through her head had been dulled by the potion, all of the chattering was giving her a headache. Hermione quietly excused herself before making ehr way down to the shoreline.

She spent a lot of time at the edge of the Great Lake, more than anyone else did. It was the most likely place to find her, so she wasn't surprised when Draco joined her. He sat in the sand next to her, digging his toes into it without saying a word.

Hermione filled the silence. "I think I may have a concussion."

He nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised. Maybe you should room with Lisa tonight, so she can keep an eye on you."

Schooling her features because there was no logical reason for his words to have stung, Hermione shrugged. "I'll be fine. It's hardly the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

The silence between them was heavy, and she couldn't stand it.

"You called me Hermione in front of everyone."

"It's your name, isn't it?" He drawled. The water rolled in, cold against their legs. His jeans were soaked then, all the way up to his knees.

She swayed a bit where she sat. "The potion is probably wearing off now."

"Are you groggy at all? Dizzy?" He asked quickly. Draco held her chin, turning her to look at him.

"One of your eyes is darker than the other." Hermione blurted, her hand raising. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist, squeezing gently as he looked her over. "Your eyes are pretty."

He snorted. "Thanks. Be still so I can see if—"

She'd blame it on the head injury later if she had to. Hermione wanted to know.

His lips were soft below hers, slanted perfectly against hers. Draco gasped, his lips parting as his fingers sunk into her hair. His nails slid against her scalp, just barely, and she found herself draped across his lap.

It was a heady feeling, straddling his lap and sliding her palms up his chest. Hermione whispered his name, idly pulling the blond hair at the name of his neck. Her lips were bruised when he finally pulled away from her, settling his hands on her shoulders and holding her at arm's length.

Her cheeks filled with colour. "Should I not have?" Hermione whispered.

Draco's cheeks were red. His hair was tousled from her hands, and his eyes were wider than she'd ever seen. Still, rejection appeared to be seconds away. "No, it's not—we can't—I can't take advantage of you when you're injured."

"I'm fine." Hermione murmured. She climbed out of his lap before he could remove her himself. She wasn't sure her pride could take it. "If you thought it was a mistake, you could have just said so. It's fine."

"I'm not saying that," Draco bit out, still glaring at her. "I'm saying you have a head injury—"

"Do you think that's the only way I could want you then?" Hermione snapped. "I didn't have a head injury this morning!"

He stood then. "Well, I don't think you should want this at all."

Hermione's eyes narrowed, and they were quickly filling with tears that she wouldn't let him see. "I don't know where you get off thinking you can tell me what to want and what to not—"

She'd sprung to her feet just before he yelled. "I was a Death Eater!" Draco roared. He ripped his sleeve up, baring the Dark Mark.

"If you're waiting for me to recoil in fear, it won't happen." She said softly.

"You fucking should!"

Hermione blinked, wiping her eyes as traitorous tears spilled over, when Draco turned away. He didn't offer anything else before he walked away.

And she felt guilty for not stopping him.

Hidden beyond a large tree, Henry was still reeling from what they had just seen. Adelaide's mouth was hanging wide open.

Olivia was the first to say anything. "Merlin, did you see how he snogged her? I think I have a crush on him now. If Hermione isn't—"

Henry clapped his hands over his ears. "Gross!" He stuck his tongue out before pretending to gag. "Do you think… Do you think they'll work it out?"

Adelaide was still frozen in place. "Do all boys snog like that? Her cheeks are still flushed!"

Isobel scribbled something across the notebook they had charmed for her. I think it's the fight that has her cheeks red.

"Exactly!" Henry said.

And then: I'm not sure they'll work it out. Draco believes he's undeserving.

"That's rubbish." Adelaide scoffed. "He's always saving her. How could he think that?"

Olivia cleared her throat. "He was a Death Eater, and Hermione was high profile on the other side. I can see how he would think… I think he may try to sabotage any relationship they had."

Henry gaped. "What? Why?"

The Gryffindor threw her hands up. "Are you blind?"

"No," Henry replied, his cheeks reddening. "But if Draco wants Hermione, which after that I'm pretty sure it's obvious, shouldn't he give it a try?"

Adelaide thumped him on the back of the head. "He thinks he's no good for her. She's right. It's clear how much Draco cares for her, but if he thinks she deserves than him—"

She'll string him up by his bollocks for that, Isobel wrote and held up her sign, her lips twitching.

"Right you are," Olivia laughed.

"—he'll pretend that he doesn't care at all. Draco will push her away." Adelaide finished in a huff.

Henry looked out from their hiding place once more. "She's crying." He whispered. Hermione was seated in the same place, her arms around her knees, and her shoulders were shaking. "We have to do something. If they won't, then we will."

Once all four of them were in agreement, they sat in a huddled group as the sat on the forest floor, putting together a plan.

I wanted to say that I realise original characters in fanfics are normally skimmed over. Despite that, I hope you enjoy them anyway. Please let me know what you thought. I'll do my best to update in a week!