Author's Note: Well, 9 days into NaNoWriMo I've managed 17,800 words on Mugglefied and about 3000 on my NaNoWriMo novel. Oops? If you want to look at what I have so far on my NaNoWriMo novel, it's posted at FictionPress under the name GrinningDragon, because I thought at 27 I might be getting a little old for the name TeenTypist. Anyway, this chapter brings us through Christmas Day and somehow ended up being just as long as the last one. Once again, I blame Hermione for de-railing my plans. This is another chapter from Draco's point of view. And today was exhausting. Reviews would brighten my evening. Please?

Chapter 25: Snugly

Draco woke up to the sound of someone else in the room with him and was disoriented for a moment. Where was he? Who was here? He made a rather inarticulate sound and his head was still fuzzy from sleep when he got a response.

"Malfoy, it's just me. I knocked the chair over while I was getting up. Sorry," came Potter's voice.

Slowly, information seeped into Draco's brain and caught up with him. A leather notebook and pen were beside him in the bed. He vaguely recalled that he'd been writing for a while before sleep. He was at the Weasleys'…the Burrow. He closed the notebook and put it under his pillow. "It's fine. Just…" He didn't say anything.

Harry nodded in understanding. "It's weird to get used to waking up somewhere new. The first few nights we slept in the tent, Hermione and Ron and I all woke up a little disoriented."

Draco wetted his lips, finding his mouth dry. He'd kissed Hermione last night, under the mistletoe. They'd had to—they couldn't get out from under the mistletoe otherwise. He wondered if it was still floating around downstairs and if anyone else had been caught under it since. "I'm glad the walls held up. It doesn't look like it should, from the outside," he said, just to have something to say.

The dark haired young man nodded in agreement. "It never looks like it should stand, but there haven't been any problems yet. I think I heard people heading downstairs. Are you ready to go down?"

"Shouldn't we get dressed?"

Harry shrugged, still in his pajamas as well. "I'm not worried about it, but you can if you want. Breakfast in pajamas is pretty par for the course here, especially on Christmas. Happy Christmas, Malfoy."

"Happy Christmas, Potter." They left their temporary room and headed downstairs. About half the crowd was already gathered with coffee or tea. A pot of each and extra cups sat on the coffee table.

"Oh, good, you're up," said Ginny. The easter egg pink pajamas didn't particularly suite her complexion. "Just Bill, and Fleur, and Hermione to come down and we're all set."

"Hermione's not down yet?" Draco asked, looking around and realizing she wasn't.

Ginny shrugged. "She asked me to make her a cup of coffee and said she needed another ten minutes of sleep."

A round of "Happy Christmases" went around the room, and there was toast on the table along with the beverages. A plate of butter and a pot jam were nestled in between. Mrs. Weasley would fix a proper breakfast later, but everyone had a little something to nibble on in the meantime.

Bill and Fleur came down next. Bill was still in his pajamas and looked a little sleep rumpled, but Fleur looked as ravishing as ever, even if she hadn't changed. Draco heard Ginny mutter, "Have we seriously been waiting while she brushed her hair?"

Still, Hermione wasn't down yet. "Ginny, why don't you go check on her?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

Ginny nodded and went up the stairs. Draco was uninvited, but followed anyway. She knocked and didn't hear a response. She opened the door. "Hermione?"

Hermione on her camping bed with her covers pulled around her. Her hair was a wreck. The music box was on the bed beside her, playing. Her eyes were red, and she'd been crying.

"Oh Salazar, I never should have gotten that damn box," Draco muttered, pushing past Ginny to sit on the bed next to Hermione and close the music box. He put an arm around her, but didn't say anything.

"I just thought I'd listen to it once, before going downstairs," she said, wiping her eyes.

Ginny's eyes narrowed and she looked from Draco to Hermione. "What the hell is going on?"

Draco looked irately at the redhead. "I got Hermione a music box for Christmas."

"The song it plays, is one my mum used to sing to me. This isn't my first Christmas away from my parents…it shouldn't be this hard. But this the first time I'm away from them and I know we won't ever have another one together again."

Ginny's whole face fell. "Oh Merlin. Oh Hermione." She came over and sat on the other side of the bed and hugged her friend.

"I don't want to spoil Christmas morning for everyone. Please don't tell them."

"Hermione…"

"I can't ruin Christmas for everyone," she said firmly. "It's got to be hard enough already for everybody…" She took a few deep breaths and did her best to wipe her eyes despite Ginny's arms all the way around her and Draco's arm on her shoulders. "How do I look?"

"Like you haven't slept well and you might have been crying," Ginny said bluntly. "No one will say anything. Mum looks like that most mornings. Let's go downstairs."

Hermione did her best to blink rapidly as though it might restore her eyes to normalcy.

"Don't you know there's a spell for that?" Draco asked.

"What?"

"You can cast a glamor that'll take care of your red eyes and the dark circles. But I don't think anyone would hold it against you if you didn't," Draco said quietly.

Ginny hugged Hermione tighter. "The whole house hurts, Hermione. We're not pretending we don't. George is staying with Percy rather than face his old room without Fred. And Charlie was the only one willing to take Ron's room, and only because someone needed to. Come downstairs."

Between the pair of them, they had managed to convince Hermione to go downstairs. She didn't do a glamor, but she pasted an apologetic smile on her face as she came down and said, "I'm sorry, I slept later than I meant to. I hope I didn't keep you all too long?"

"Not at all," said Arthur, "we were just enjoying our coffee and waking up a bit." He and Mrs. Weasley were side by side on the sofa, with various other family members occupying chairs and floor space. Hermione and Ginny and Draco chose a patch of floor between couch and Christmas tree and people passed them coffee cups.

"All right, everyone, George, Percy, you're in charge of handing out the gifts," Mrs. Weasley dictated.

George and Percy were nearest to the tree and got out of their chairs and onto the floor to cooperate.

Ginny whispered to Malfoy, "You're never too old, freckled, tall, or redheaded to listen to do what your mother tells you. Number two rule in this house."

He arched an eyebrow. "What's the number one rule?"

"If you don't listen to Mum, for the love of Merlin, don't get caught," she said, grinning.

Percy pushed his glasses up his nose to settle them into place. His pajamas looked as though he might have ironed them, and his hair was neatly parted. He read the first label. "Ginny," he said, holding out a parcel.

Ginny took it and unwrapped it—new Quidditch gloves. "Thank you."

One by one, presents were unwrapped and passed out, and most of the morning seemed to pass. Mrs. Weasley cried when she opened the locket from Harry and Hermione with Ron and Fred's pictures inside, and Arthur immediately put it around her neck. Hermione immediately popped one of the SugarQuills Ginny had brought from Honeydukes into her mouth, and thanked Harry for the charm bracelet he'd given her. There were two tooth shaped pendents, a laughing face, and a terrier.

Draco saw that the apron he'd picked out for Mrs. Weasley was well received, and Mr. Weasley crowed with delight over his calculator. Draco felt a peculiar satisfaction in seeing that his gifts were well received. While he generally had some sort of gift for each of his parents, he usually tended to be on the receiving end of gifts, rather than the giving end.

He watched with pleasure as Hermione unwrapped the day planner he'd picked out for her, to help her organize her now crazy busy schedule. He'd also penciled in a few things he thought were important like, "Take the night off from studying and go to the movies" or "Make dinner for your charming neighbor." He'd also included in her box a bottle of bubblebath that smelled delicious—chamomile and lavender. It was supposed to be soothing and help promote good dreams. At least that's what the label said.

For his part, he opened a parcel of fudge and cookies from Mrs. Weasley, and a warm looking gray sweater, obviously hand knitted. There was a D on the front in green, and a little green at the cuffs and neck. Amid coaxing from the gathered crowd, Draco slipped it on over his pajamas. There was a scarf from the Weaslette, and Harry had even gotten him a watch. Draco wasn't sure who it was from, but there were also owl treats for Xavier. He couldn't find those in a Muggle store. Hermione had gotten him gloves—thin but warm—and wine glasses. "Just when I was starting to get used to drinking out of a coffee mug," he told her, looking over at her.

Hermione was surrounded by a small pile of presents and a pile of wrapping slightly tidier than almost anyone else's. Her hair was still a mess, but she was genuinely smiling and most of the red had faded from her eyes. She was also wearing a Weasley sweater—as was pretty much the entire household.

George did his best to laugh and smile and appreciate the gifts. Percy did his best to try to respond to the jokes his brother tossed out, but a lot of the responses fell a bit flat. They were both trying, but Percy wasn't Fred. There was a general laugh when their mother made a disparaging comment about the length of George's hair, and Ginny offered to find some barrettes for him.

The parcel that Narcissa had send to Hermione for safekeeping for Draco until Christmas had an extra surprise in it. When Draco opened it up and unwrapped the black silk pajamas she'd sent, a second wrapped package and a note fell out. He handed both to Hermione, as her name was on the note. She read it aloud. "Dear Hermione, Since I'm sure you'll be spending Christmas with Draco, I thought the best place to put your Christmas present where you wouldn't be able to find it, was to hide it inside Draco's present. Happy Christmas. Narcissa Malfoy." Hermione opened a bottle of Evangeline's Ever-Smooth Tangle Tamer. "Is this like Sleekeazy's?" she asked.

Draco shook his head. "That is top of the line. It'll give you the same results as Sleekeazy's, but better, and it'll last for a week. And costs about four times as much. My mother uses it occasionally in bad weather. But if you ever tell her I said that, I'll have to kill you."

Narcissa had pinned a couple of rather lifelike looking butterfly barrettes to the side of the bottle. "It's very thoughtful," she said.

"And not something you'd ever wear," he pointed out. "She tried. I hope she likes the framed photo of me. I'm not sure whether she'd ever wear the Muggle dress I sent, but…" He shrugged.

"Everyone, look this way," Mr. Weasley said, taking out the camera that Bill and Fleur had gotten him. He snapped a picture of the living room, filled with his family.

When all of the presents were open, Mrs. Weasley pulled the girls into the kitchen to help with breakfast, and put Bill and Charlie in charge of cleaning up all the Christmas wrap. Harry and Draco cleared up the toast and coffee things, and George and Percy were told to set the table for breakfast. As he watched even the oldest of the Weasley boys doing as he was told, Mr. Weasley came up to. "They all know, you're never too old, rich, smart, tall, freckled, or funny to listen to their mother." It was such an echo of what Ginny had earlier said that Draco found himself laughing.

In short order, bacon, sausages, eggs, baked beans, and more toast were all laid out on the table with jugs of juice and more coffee and tea, and everyone was sat down to a late breakfast.

As breakfast started, Mr. Weasley stood up to talk, holding his wife's hand. "I know Harry will be heading off to his god-fatherly duties this afternoon, and Bill and Fleur are heading to see Fleur's family, so I wanted to say this now. "Thank you, all of you, for coming. We are glad to have you all hear. I do want to take a moment to acknowledge the people who aren't here. Not just…" his voice faltered, but he carried on. "…not just Fred and Ron, but everyone who won't be celebrating Christmas with us this year. Tonks and Remus Lupin. The Grangers. Albus Dumbledore. Alastor Moody. And so many others. I'd like to take a moment of silence to acknowledge them." They were silent for a moment, and then he raised his glass of orange juice. "To life, and all our loved ones." There was a general murmur of agreement from everyone, and a communal drinking of whatever beverage was in front of them.

Draco was seated between Potter and Hermione again. She seemed to be doing better than she had been this morning. He squeezed her hand under the table. He would have expected breakfast to be subdued after Mr. Weasley's speech, but George surprised them all. He started telling the story of how he and Fred had tried an aging potion to get them across the age-line guarding the Goblet of Fire. "The beards could have rivaled Dumbledore's. And it still didn't get us across the line," he said, laughing at their misfortune.

Potter picked up the thread when everyone was done laughing. "Ron told me once that his fear of spiders came from Fred. He said something about his teddy bear?"

George followed the prompt. "I remember that. Ron was about three, and he'd broken Fred's toy broom. I wasn't going to let either of them touch mine after that. And then all of a sudden I hear this little shriek. Fred was so mad about his broom being broken that all of a sudden, Ron's teddy bear had too many legs, and it jumped out of his arms and ran across the floor."

Soon, the whole table was telling stories about the people who weren't there. There was a lot of laughter, smiles, some tears. But the important thing was, they were not forgotten.

"It's hard to think what the best part of your legacy really is, George," Hermione pointed out. "Your grand exit from Hogwarts is already legendary at this point. But I can't help but remember that you and Fred bounced snowballs off of Voldemort's face."

There was a general flinch at the table from the use of the name, and George asked, "We did?"

"Don't you remember? It was my first year. You'd enchanted snowballs to follow Quirrell around, and they bounced off the back of his turban. Well, we did later find out that Voldemort was living under Quirrell's turban, so really…"

There was general laugh at the table, and outright approval from Charlie and Bill. Only Mrs. Weasley looked a little exasperated. "George, it's not appropriate to bounce snowballs off your professor's head!"

"But he was You-Know-Who, Mum," argued George.

"You didn't know that at the time. Would you have bounced snowballs off Professor McGonagall's head? Or mine?"

"Merlin, no."

"I remember when McGonagall picked Ron to dance with when we were learning before the Yule Ball," Harry said, hoping to change the topic.

Draco listened to the stories and decided it might be best not to tell the story of Ron's broken wand and the day he belched slugs.

As breakfast wrapped up (it was well passed noon). Harry took his leave of everyone, going upstairs to pack his things, and hugging everyone goodbye—Mrs. Weasley claimed three hugs from him. He looked at Hermione and Draco. "I'll see you both tomorrow?"

"We'll be there," she answered.

"Thank you again for everything, Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley." He was wearing his Weasley sweater and had packed the rest of his things into his bag, along with the plush toy Draco had gotten for Teddy.

Bill and Fleur took their leave about that time too—they'd arranged transport by Portkey with the Ministry to go to see her family in France, and the transports would activate soon. They just needed to gather their things at Shell Cottage first.

"What now?" Draco asked Hermione quietly, as they left the kitchen. He gathered his things from the living room to bring them upstairs.

"Well, we could walk down to the village. I don't imagine much will be open, being that it's Christmas and all, but it's different from London. Less hectic. Smaller. Pretty to walk through," Hermione said. "Ginny, do you want to come?"

To Draco's disappointment, Ginny decided to go with them. He rather suspected she wanted to keep an eye on Hermione. Eventually they were all dressed and gathered by the backdoor. To Draco's surprise, George and Percy had decided to come for the trek as well, though Charlie was tinkering in the shed with their father.

So the crowd of them wandered down to the village in the snow. Hermione had been correct about nothing really being open, but it was something to do and a place to be. He spoke quietly to Hermione as they walked.

"I didn't realize Loony—er, the Lovegoods lived so close to here."

"They do. I think they mostly keep to themselves though."

He looked sideways at her, and then put his eyes back on where he was walking. "She said last night…she forgives me. Well, she didn't use that exact word. She said she doesn't hate me. She was a prisoner in my house for weeks, and I didn't do anything to stop it. But she doesn't hate me."

Hermione smiled. "Luna is good like that. For all her crazy theories, and for the rare times that I've seen her angry or frustrated…she's very good about letting things go. I think she's one of the few people who really understands that hate harms the person hating as much as the person hated."

"I don't think I could have forgiven me in her shoes." He had his new gloves on, and his Weasley sweater under his jacket. Ginny had insisted that he wear the scarf she made. He was warmer than he'd been all winter so far. He swallowed. "When they first took my magic away, all I wanted was to go back to my Manor and be with my mother and have my magic back. I'm not sure I want that anymore."

"No?" Hermione asked, not looking at him.

"I want my magic back. I won't miss hauling my laundry three blocks to clean it. Or washing dishes by hand—or at all really. And I'd like to see my mother again—even though the things I said last night are all true. But I'm not sure I'd want to live in the Manor again. I was still fairly numb this summer, but…terrible things happened there. I don't think it will ever feel like the place it was in my childhood, ever again."

Hermione took his hand. "Probably not. But you don't have to go back there. I don't know if the Ministry would let you keep the flat you're in, but you could get another one somewhere."

Ginny and George and Percy pointed out several of the buildings in the village as they wandered through, and asked questions about some of the Muggle Christmas decorations, which Hermione did her best to explain the significance of quietly as they wandered down the little main street.

At last, they turned around and headed back. "What's next?"

"Well, we could try to do a snowball fight, but there's not all that much snow on the ground," George said, scuffing some up with his boots.

"I might read the new book I got on the history of government in the wizarding world," Percy announced.

"I'd love to borrow that when you're done with it," Hermione added.

In the end, they reached the Burrow and Ginny managed to rope Draco, George, and Hermione into a game of Exploding Snap. Draco played extra cautiously as he had no way to regrow his eyebrows with magic if they got singed off. He looked around a couple of times for the enchanted mistletoe from the night before, but he didn't see it anywhere. Maybe it had moved off to the kitchen.

"Are you both staying tonight, or going back after dinner?" Ginny asked.

Hermione looked at Draco. "I didn't schedule our return trip on the Knight Bus yet, so, we can stay another night." There was an implied, If Draco wants to at the end of that sentence.

He nodded. "I'm in no hurry to get back to that death-trap."

Ginny perked up a little. "Mum and Dad would keep you here all week if you want," she offered.

Hermione shook her head. "I can't stay all week. There's my apprenticeship to get back to, and the joke shop. And Draco has work. But since you're off from school still, see if your mum will let you come over for New Year's Eve."

"I'll see if I can. She's gotten very protective," Ginny told her.

"There wouldn't be anything for her to worry about. I'm connected to the Floo Network. All you need to do is come over. We'll stay in." She looked at Draco. "We could all watch a movie or something."

He suppressed a sigh. Since last night, pieces were starting to form themselves together in his brain. The thought of spending New Year's Eve with Hermione was a good one. He would just prefer to do it without the redhead if possible. It seemed unlikely. "We could invite Potter over too."

George actually laughed. "You sound so thrilled about that concept."

Draco rolled his eyes. "And I'm guessing it wouldn't be a party without you, so you'd better turn up too."

George rubbed his temples. "Maybe. Lee wanted to take me out somewhere that night, but I'm not sure I'd be up for any large crowds. This might be just thing. Perce, you want to come?"

"I'm normally asleep before midnight," he said stiffly.

His brother rolled his eyes. "It's New Years and it's not like you have to work the next day."

Hermione wondered how what had started as an invitation for Ginny to join herself and Draco at New Year suddenly seemed to have become a small party. She didn't really do parties. It seemed a little too late to take any of it back.

Draco seemed to read her mind, and whispered as they stood up, "If it gets too crowded for you, you can always go back across the hall and hide out in my flat 'til all your guests go away."

This earned an appreciative chuckle from her. The group that had been playing Snap dispersed. Percy wanted to get back to his book, and George had some ideas he wanted to jot down for the store before he forgot them. Ginny went back to her room to listen to music. Draco found himself alone with Hermione for the first time all day and suddenly wasn't sure what to say to her.

Fortunately, Hermione had always been a quick thinker. "Do you want to go upstairs before Mrs. Weasley asks us to start helping with dinner?"

"Merlin, yes," he said, and they went upstairs. Hermione sat on what had been Harry's bed, her legs dangling over the side. Draco situated himself on one of the chairs in the room. She fiddled with the charms on her bracelet.

"I'm glad you're here."

"Why? You don't feel like I'm invading in a family I don't belong in?"

She shook her head. "You've taken your Weasley adoption with good grace I think. They haven't dyed your hair red yet, or tattooed freckles on your face of course, but that will come. Molly's already bossing you around like one of her own, and putting twice as much food on your plate as anyone else's, same as Harry. You're not being treated like a guest. You're being treated like family."

Draco's hand went to his hair as if afraid it might be changing color. "They wouldn't."

Hermione snickered softly. "Probably not. Fred and George did threaten to do it to Harry once, but I don't think they ever followed through. You're probably safe. And I'm glad you're here."

He smoothed his hair back. "So am I. It beats all the alternatives."

Hermione pulled her legs up onto the bed and say with her legs criss-crossed and her knees out, moving backwards until she could rest her head against the wall. "I'm not sure I can really bear the thought of eating again, but we will have to go downstairs at some point."

"I suppose so."

She spoke to the ceiling, her eyes closed, head resting against the wall. "I'm sorry I lost it this morning and you and Ginny had to come get me. It's strange. If you'd asked a few months ago, I would have thought being without Ron right now would be harder than being without my parents. I've spent plenty of Christmases away from them—usually to be with him and Harry—and I know they're still out there somewhere, even if they don't recognize me. But I've missed them so much more the last few days."

Draco wasn't sure how to respond to that. "I don't know. Maybe because he's really gone. And your parents are still here in someway, but just out of reach. I miss my mother more than my father right now. Not because I wasn't close to him, but I think because I know he's going to be out of my life for years. There's a distance. I know my mother and I will see each other again much sooner."

"Maybe." She moved one of her hands off of her lap and held it palm up on the bed. Draco looked at it for a moment, not sure what (if anything) the gesture meant. He scooted his chair around until he was close enough to reach her hand, and just held it. For a little while, they just sat in companionable silence until Mrs. Weasley called them all down to the table.

Another meal passed with too much food and plenty of talking. They pulled Christmas crackers, and Draco sat between Hermione and George this time. Though Mr. Weasley was the one who spoke to him the most, asking various questions about Muggle things he found mysterious. He looked a little wistful.

"I've sometimes wondered what it would be like to live without magic for…say a week. But I've never managed it."

His wife laughed. "Sometimes I think you couldn't even tie your shoes without magic."

"I can tie them. They just don't stay tied," he argued.

There was a glow around the pair of them. Even with all of the pain they'd been through, they had each other, and they could make it through anything.

Draco's eyes looked a couple of times for the mistletoe floating near the ceiling, but he never saw it. At one point, George noticed, and said to him quietly. "I took it down. The odds were just too strong that I might walk under it with Percy, and that'd be gross. It's really better for school hallways, parties, offices, that sort of thing." He quirked a red eyebrow at him. "You didn't get caught under it did you?"

Draco gave a just barely perceptible nod and scowled at the grin that broke out on George's face, though the redhead didn't say anything.

The family gathered around the wireless again in the evening, though Percy and Hermione were both flipping through books they'd gotten. Charlie was working on a sketch of a dragon tattoo he was planning to get (not that he told anyone else that that's what it was). Ginny and George played a game of Gobstones. Draco had his journal out, but he wasn't writing, just taking in the scene around him. This was what a holiday with a big family felt like? It was surprisingly nice.

In ones and twos, people began to drift upstairs for the night. Percy wanted to go to bed early—he had to be at work in the morning. And so did Arthur, and of course Molly went with him. George planned to open the shop early—plenty of people would be in Diagon Alley tomorrow and he'd given Lee the day off. Charlie put his sketch aside for the night and made the long trek up to Ron's room. Ginny, Hermione, and Draco were left on their own.

"You really have to go tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yes, we've got plans with Harry. His cousin is coming over. They're still trying to find common ground. But talk to your mum. See if you can come over and join us for New Years," Hermione insisted.

Ginny nodded and went upstairs.

Draco looked at Hermione with amusement. "Interesting how you've assumed I'm free on New Year's without asking."

The brunette's face went a little pink. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to assume, I just thought…" The words were getting all tangled up. She let out a breath. "I'd like to spend New Year's Eve with you. I'm sorry for assuming that you might want to spend New Year's Eve with me."

The words that came out of her mouth were so stiff, and she was bristling so much, Draco almost laughed. He just barely resisted the urge to touch her face. "You're best company I've found in a long time. I would like to spend New Year's Eve with you, I just think I'm working most of it."

Hermione's mouth formed a little O. "I hadn't even thought about you having to work that night. I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "It's part of why I'm volunteering at the library. If I've got to work, I'd rather do something with decent hours that doesn't keep me out working late on weekends and holidays."

She nodded in agreement. With her starting her apprenticeship and him working nights, they're schedules were almost entirely opposite anymore. "Draco, what are you going to do when you have your magic back?"

He looked at her and his face was troubled. "I don't know. It still seems like a long ways off. Like you said, I don't have to go back to the Manor. But I don't know what I might do. It'll be too late for me to go back to Hogwarts. I can't imagine anyone at the Ministry would want anything to do with me. I don't particularly want to go into business. I just don't know."

Hermione did her best to lighten the mood; after all, she'd brought up the serious question. "Well, if all else fails, the Leakey Cauldron might be looking for another dishwasher."

"Gee, thanks." He paused a moment before continuing. "For the record, I would like to spend New Year's Eve with you. Even if you fill your flat with Gryffindors for the evening."

Hermione smiled. "Glad to hear it. I'd hate to have to drag you there against your will." She put her hands in her pockets and looked up at the stairs. "I suppose I should go up for the night. I haven't had a chance to ask Ginny how things went with Harry."

He arched an eyebrow in question.

"Well, they were together, and then we all went off hunting Horcruxes, and then after the Battle Harry disappeared for months. Yesterday is the first they've seen of each other in months. I told him off for not at least writing to her before now. That…man. He can face a dragon and barely break a sweat, but ask him to talk to a girl he likes." She shook her head.

Draco grinned. "It's much harder to talk to a girl you like than it is to face a dragon."

"And you'd know this from the all the dragon's you've faced?" she asked. "I've ridden a dragon." Draco burst out laughing. The possible double entendre there was just too much for him. Hermione seemed to realize his train of thought after a moment and gave a weak laugh and swatted him on the arm. "I didn't mean it that way," she grumbled.

He rubbed his arm. "Did your friends just put up with that sort of thing while you were at school?"

"Yes. Mostly. Admittedly, I never punched any of them in the nose." She looked at his nose. "Did I break yours that day?"

He rubbed his nose. "No, just wounded my pride."

Without thinking she reached out and stroked the bridge of his nose with one finger as if it were a bird or a small kitten. "Well, it seems to have survived."

Draco took a long breath as she moved her hand away. He wished George hadn't taken down the mistletoe. It'd be easier to kiss her if he had an excuse other than, Wow, Hermione is standing very close to me, I wonder what her lips taste like? Maybe it was just the holidays getting to him. But he doubted it. A wall he'd built in his own head had come down last night, and he was going to have to figure out what he wanted to do about it. "Yes, Malfoys always survive, noses and all."

She laughed. "It's late. I ought to go to bed."

He offered her his arm. "Allow me to escort you to your door. A gentleman always escorts a lady."

"Oh really, you're a gentleman now?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow, but taking his arm all the same.

"I'm always a gentleman," he corrected.

They climbed the stairs together and Draco left Hermione at Ginny's door. Hermione went inside. "Ginny?" she asked softly, hoping not to wake the redhead if she was asleep.

"I'm still up," she said. "You've been down there a while."

"Draco and I were talking," she said, sitting down on the creaking bed. "I meant to ask earlier. How did things go with Harry?"

"You're changing the subject. It was okay. It was good seeing him. He's still Harry. Typical Harry." She shrugged. "He apologized for not owling me at all in the last six months. He said that he needs time to get his head on straight and that he wouldn't be a very good boyfriend right now. He said maybe in another six months he will be, but that I shouldn't hang around and wait for him. See where we both are when I'm done with Hogwarts and if we're still compatible. We may be, we may not."

"Gin, I'm sorry…"

"No, he's right really," the redhead insisted, though her voice was a little tight. "The truth is, I'm not the same person I was a year and a half ago. I've seen things. I have nightmares. I still flinch sometimes if someone manages to come up without me noticing them, and grip my wand more often than I should. And I can't even imagine what it was like day to day for you and Harry and Ron. Maybe the people we are now—or the people we will be in six months—will be compatible with one another. Maybe they won't. I still care about him. And I think he still cares about me. But…there's more to making a relationship work than just having feelings for each other."

Hermione wasn't sure what to say.

"Anyway, it is what it is right now. Not much to do about it one way or another. Both people have to be willing to try to make a relationship work, and he's not willing right now." She looked over at her friend. "You and Malfoy have been awfully close the past couple of days."

"I don't think we've been much closer the last two days than we have the last few months. He's…he's been my friend, and kept me moving through all my misery," Hermione said. "I wouldn't be as together as I am right now without him."

Ginny gave her a flat look and snorted. "Well, regardless of whether you were any closer the last couple of days than you've been…you two are very close." The brunette bit her lip, looking at her friend, and Ginny must have seen something in her expression, because her eyes widened. "Something happened."

"We got caught under George's mistletoe last night," Hermione admitted. "It's strange. Draco and I…we spend a lot of time together. We hold hands when we need support. He'll cook me dinner if I've had a long day, or we'll spend a day on my couch watching movies or reading. This was the first time we kissed. It didn't feel unnatural. It felt just like everything else we do. It made sense."

A wicked smile spread on Ginny's face. "You've got a thing for Draco Malfoy."

"I don't…maybe. Yes? I don't know, Gin. I don't know anything. I don't know if he only spends time with me because there isn't anyone else. Or..or what. I'd like to kiss him again. I think."

Ginny chuckled, shaking her head. "Then do it. You've only got one life."

"And risk ruining or losing whatever it is we have now that's been working well for months?"

Her friend shrugged. "Well, it's your call. You'll never know unless you try. All I'm saying is, you don't know where you'll be in six months any more than you know where he will be. Not really."