Hermione and Ginny had been among the first to get off of the Hogwarts Express when it arrived at Hogwarts. The brunette had looked around (as subtly as she tried to make it) for any spec of that infamous blond hair, but she came up empty. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. He had gotten off the train nearly last when they had arrived in London, she could only assume that he would do the same here.

Sighing, she trudged off with Ginny on their way to the threstrals so they could head to the castle. She had been able to seem them for years now –war could certainly do that to you. They were scary things, honestly, but sweet as can be so she realized. Not that that meant she wanted to get friendly with them in the slightest.

Both women managed to wrangle a carriage to themselves and sighed contentedly as it took off. Hermione looked out the window as her hand travelled to the locket on her chest. It had become a habit of hers lately to simply handle it without reason.

There had never been a talk with Ron. Every time Hermione tried to approach him about the locket and how she felt about it, his eyes would immediately spot it, lighting up like a child in a candy store. She just couldn't do it. It was funny, too, the more she thought about it. She could go up against Deatheaters and break into Gringotts, but she couldn't tell her ex/best friend that his gift was more than she could bear?

At least she could take comfort in the fact that Ginny was right. She could simply not wear it while she was at Hogwarts. However, she wouldn't be here forever. Nor could she let Ron be hopeful forever.

"I assume you're taking that NEWTs class they're offering?" Ginny asked. Hermione pried her eyes away from the window and smiled.

"Of course I am. I thought it a wonderful idea of Professor McGonagall's. Adult students have been out of school for a long time. A little extra preparation is fantastic."

"Like you need the extra preparation." The redhead laughed. Hermione beamed.

"Will you be taking it?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. I don't really need the scores to write for the Daily Prophet's Quidditch section. Although, I imagine the class could be interesting enough."

"Oh, it will be!" Hermione exclaimed happily. "Professor McGonagall said it would be set up like a study session. There'll even be hands on material and-"

"No, no, not like that! I mean that you may be able to find your rendez-vous guy from the ball!"

Hermione frowned. "What?"

"Think about it. There's a good chance that he'll be there. You can, I don't know, look for any tells and see if it's him."

"Ginny, I really don't-"

"What's there to lose?" Ginny asked. "You liked him."

"I think that's fairly obvious."

"No, you really liked him. I don't know what kind of charms he put on you –all possible puns aside –but he got to you. Don't think I haven't noticed you drifting off in thought with a silly little grin on your face all throughout the holiday."

Hermione blushed.

"Just think about it, alright? You used to like mysteries. Consider this one the best of them all."

Draco had gotten off the train last earlier that day with hopes of catching even the slightest glance from the brunette he couldn't stop thinking of during the holiday. She had somehow alluded him, however. And not just on the train. He couldn't find her anywhere –not that he had been actively looking for her. He just so happened to take one (or several) walks throughout the castle, glaring looks from others be damned, hoping that he might spot her somewhere. He hadn't even seen her at lunch or dinner. Was she avoiding him? Yes, that seemed about right. To have a weekend beyond amazing, spurred on by the yuletide spirit, only to be dashed by reality when the magic of Christmas was over.

That dismal notion, however, was kicked out of his brain by his conversation with Blaise out on his balcony. Well, less on what he said, and more on how he looked when his wife had come to steal him away for the snowman show. Blaise had looked so…so what? Happy seemed too much of an understatement. There were just simply no words to describe how drunk in love he was with Liliana. After an accidental meeting. And marriage in a week.

But Blaise had always been impulsive. Not necessarily to do anything stupid, but he always had this notion of grabbing life by its collar and toting it around. It was too short, he would say. Enjoy yourself, he would say. But no, no, the rigid, play by the book, stick up his arse Draco could never go for it.

And yet Granger had shifted all of that around in one weekend.

So, what was a little more shifting?

It was one a.m. Saturday now and it had taken Draco nearly an hour to write the small note. An hour after that to head to the Owlery. A half an hour to tie the note to an owl and send it off. And another half an hour berating himself because it was highly likely that Granger was asleep and his owl would go unanswered.

But what if she was awake?

What if she was awake and just didn't answer it?

So what they had a connection at a ball?

So what if they slept together twice?

That didn't mean that she would want to spend time with him just for the heck of it.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Draco self-admonished as he paced the grounds near the lake. He was so wrapped up in himself that he didn't even hear approaching footsteps crunching what was left of old snow.

"Do you always talk to yourself like that?"

Draco whipped himself around in Hermione's direction and nearly stumbled in the process by how quickly he'd done it. He blushed. "I…well… No, no, I don't."

Hermione smiled. "You really shouldn't. You might get worry lines."

"Right," he said bashfully as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll try to remember that."

He's embarrassed. Hermione thought to herself. He's embarrassed!

"Hey," she began as her eyes widened in recognition. "You got new robes!"

"Oh," Draco looked down and then grinned. "Yes, I did. Well, my mother got them for me anyway. She was absolutely devastated that I'd 'lost' my old set."

Hermione laughed. "I guess that means you had a good holiday then with such nice robes as a present."

Draco's easy-going (albeit nervous) nature faltered. "It could've been better." He mumbled. "Despite being allowed to as an adult student, there's a reason I don't go home very often –if at all."

Hermione was intrigued. "Why did you go then?"

Draco shrugged. "It was the holidays. It's just the kind of thing you're expected to do."

Hermione frowned. In that one weekend she had spent with him, the current moment they were sharing, and their overall past history together, the brunette had seen many sides to Malfoy. She'd seen him at his absolute worst –personality-wise, with that awful sneer and pure arrogance laced with superiority. She'd seen him romantic, just completely wracked with sensual lust because she had made him so. When she had come onto the grounds just mere minutes ago she'd seen him anxious like some school boy working up his nerves to ask the prettiest girl to the prom. But now, having brought up his home, the side of him that was a crumpled version of the Draco Malfoy she used to know –the broken side of him that she'd seen much more than she liked –that side had replaced the adorable jitters. Now she watched him as he sighed, used his wand to clear away some snow, and sat down at the lake's edge near a tree.

Hermione walked over to him. She didn't know what prompted this, but perhaps it was her insatiable need to want him to relax. There was ample space for her to sit between the tree and Draco. That was where she'd nestled herself. With her back firmly against the body of the tree, her legs stretched before her, each one on either of the blond's sides, she raised tentative hands and eventually laid them to rest on his shoulders.

Needless to say, Draco was surprised by the action. He didn't know why considering he'd been at the mercy of her touch twice almost a full month ago, but this time was different. It was different because it wasn't happening in the throes of love-making. He hadn't even goaded her with his favorite word. This had been a pure, non-provoked touching. No, not just touching. It was…soothing. She had placed her delicate hands on his shoulders and eased him back so that he was laying against her. Not to be crude, but her breasts made excellent pillows. In this position he could smell her vanilla fragrance clear as day, and it tempted him to fall deep into her aroma and succumb to sleep.

He didn't though. He became much too distracted by the hand that had slid up to his chest and neck.

"Can I ask you a question, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, her fingers gently stroking just beneath his jawline.

Draco closed his eyes and nodded. Her caressing of him was absolutely inebriating. "What is it?"

"Why did you come back to Hogwarts?"

He opened one eye. "I thought we were talking about my holiday?"

Hermione shrugged. "We were. But, if I'm to be honest, I think your answer to my latter question would give me insight to the first. Both places seem to be disagreeable to you."

Draco was silent. He let his open eye close and concentrated on her touch. On her...everything. There was a rhythm to her. Her fingertips would graze his skin above his collarbone, slowly and comfortingly making their way up his throat, under his jaw, and stopping at the base of his ear. All of this happened as she breathed in, his head rising as her chest did. And when she exhaled, well, that was his favorite part. The back of her fingers would retrace its journey, still so slow and careful and back down to his chest where the process would begin again.

"You don't have to answer if you-"

"NEWTs," Draco said. "Those scores get you into the Ministry. I don't have them so…"

"A wise decision," Hermione smiled. Draco smirked.

"Of course you'd think so. It's about education."

Hermione momentarily ceased her petting to lightly hit him. Draco laughed. She thought it sounded lovely coming from him.

"Regardless. You're right. Without them chances of working in the Ministry are virtually zero. Yes, it was wise. And," she paused for moment and added, "brave. It was brave, Malfoy. You…you must've known what it would've been like for you."

"I did. But I knew it would be no different than how everyone already treated me. Here simply seemed like a better prison."

Hermione's fingers stopped. "Is that what you feel like? That you're…in a prison?"

"Yes," Draco admitted. "All day, every day. At least I did until I… Well, until I met you."

The comment made Hermione freeze. Draco felt it, and he eased himself off of her so that he could turn and look at her. Her facial expression matched her rigid body perfectly.

Hermione gulped lightly. "You act like we were strangers before this."

"I hardly knew you."

"You hardly know me now."

"True," Draco conceded. A wave of pride suddenly washed over him at that, and once again he felt the devil in him rise. "It's funny then," he said with a taunting and seductive smile, "the things that strangers do."

Hermione felt heat rise to her cheeks and she was sure that he noticed despite how late and how dark it was. She took up playing with her fingers to ward off her unease –however pleasurable the feeling.

"It's easy with a stranger, I suppose." She said softly. "There's no need to feel embarrassed, or afraid, or-"

"Flustered?" Draco offered. Hermione, whose eyes had been concentrating solely on her hands looked up. He was still smiling and she couldn't help but follow.

"Yes, flustered."

Draco's self-loathing and belittlement was clearly gone now, and he readjusted himself so that he could sit next to her shoulder-to-shoulder. "Tell me about your holiday, Granger."

Hermione was immensely relieved at the change in topic and dropped her hands neatly onto her lap. "I enjoyed it very much. Naturally, I got way too many presents considering there are all the Weasleys to take into account. I split my time between my parents and with them."

"What were some of the gifts?"

"Books, of course." She said happily. "A few sweaters, a pair of earrings from George that I've hidden away somewhere so I don't wear them by mistake-"

Draco furrowed his brow. "Why wouldn't you wear them?"

"Because they're from George."

"And?"

"Owner of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"

"That joke shop?"

"Precisely. Anything that comes from him is likely to do some damage, so locked away it is."

Draco laughed. "Understood. What else did you get?"

"Nothing except…" Hermione's voice trailed. Her hand naturally gravitated to her neck, but the locket from Ron was another thing that was currently locked away. "A locket,"

Draco stared at her curiously as her demeanor shifted. "You didn't like it?"

"Yes and…no."

"Would you mind if I asked why?"

Hermione looked at him and found him staring at her. While this was nothing new, not to mention they were talking to each other, his stare was different. It was inquisitive. Genuinely interested and perhaps concerned. She sighed.

"Ron and I used to date." Hermione explained. She would never know the sudden delight that overcame Draco at the words 'used to.' "The locket, it came from him. He said he'd had it for a while and that he'd wanted to give it to me before we ended things. Before I ended things. The fact that he gave it to me now, the photos he put inside… I don't feel quite comfortable having it."

"Tell him you don't want it then." Draco said. Hermione scoffed as she shook her head.

"Do you honestly think it's that easy to tell someone you still care about that you don't want a gift he put serious thought into?"

"Still?"

Hermione blinked. Draco, quite uncharacteristically of him, blushed and let his gaze fall to the grass. He hadn't meant to say that. Out loud at least. But somehow the word had slipped out of his mouth as though his subconscious needed some sort of clarification.

"As a friend," she added softly.

"Oh,"

"L-like I said, it would be hard."

"Do you think Weasley still-?"

"I know he does."

"But you don't-?"

"No,"

"Good,"

Hermione couldn't help the surprise on her face. Draco, on the other hand, was cursing himself for being unable to bridle his tongue. He couldn't possibly look at her right at this moment. What he was saying was absolutely out of proportion to their situation. They'd been intimate, fine. They had a few –emphasis on few –short heartfelt conversations. But to say that? She probably thought him mad. Or maybe even-

Draco's thought process had been interrupted by a hand on his cheek. Hermione coaxed him to look at her, and he immediately met those brown eyes he had first seen at the ball. Only now they didn't just belong to a mysterious woman in white. They belonged Granger. Hermione Granger. And she seemed to be struggling with what she wanted to say next.

"Good?" She finally managed to ease out.

What was it that Draco could read in her eyes? Was it…? It couldn't possibly have ben… Hope? He had to test it. He did so by slowly, but purposefully letting his hand slip over hers and said, "Very good,"

Hermione's lips parted. Perhaps it was to say something. Perhaps from surprise. Draco let his eyes analyze every part of her face –in this way, hoping for the answers that this sudden silence was keeping him from. And that's when he saw it. A tear, of all things. Why in Merlin's name was she crying? What had he done? But then there was another in quite the unconventional place –her forehead.

A clap of thunder roared overhead and the rain came down in full force. Both Hermione and Draco rose to their feet, using their robes to shield themselves although it proved to be of little use. Eventually they dropped them, running together across the grounds and actually slipping and sliding as they went as the ground became muddy. One particularly bad footing made Hermione fall, and although Draco had grabbed her arm to help her, he too tumbled to the ground. When they hit, instead of grunts of pain, the pair had begun to laugh.

"What is wrong with us?" Hermione said in hysterics. She was wiping her eyes from tears of joy, which, in all honesty, was pointless when they mingled in with the torrential downpour they were sitting in. "We have wands for Merlin's sake! And we thought robes could help us?"

Draco held his stomach as his laugher continued. She was right. They were complete idiots, and now their hair was plastered to their heads and face, they were sitting in mud, and, despite how good their robes were, they were still soaked down to their underwear.

Draco finally took out his wand and waved it overhead. When he did they were both protected by a shield so that the rain merely bounced off around them. Still with a smile on his face, he set his wand down and just looked up.

"Have you ever just watched the rain as it fell, Granger?" Draco asked without looking at her.

"No," she smiled at him with a small shake of her head. He turned to her then and held out his hand.

"You should."

Hermione gave him her hand and Draco pulled her close. Neither had been this close to one another for a month, and even then they had been closer. But still, they wouldn't trade this moment for anything. Hermione snuggled into him, her head resting in the crook of his neck as she gazed up at the raindrops that fell furiously. Draco's arms wrapped around her, holding onto her as though if he loosened his grip she would somehow drift away. She had done the same, her arms around his waist and locking him in place. His cheek was resting on the top of her head, and it was in this interlocked position that he found himself in that he knew Blaise had been right. Though, he wouldn't say that he loved her, but something had certainly happened between that weekend and now.

"There's nothing wrong with us." Draco said in a near whisper. Hermione didn't move, but he knew that she heard him by the tightening of her hold on him.

"And…that's good?" She asked him tentatively. Draco swallowed.

"…Only if you want it to be."

It was his turn to tighten his arms around her as he waited for her answer. He even stopped breathing for a moment as he did.

"In that case," she said carefully. "It's good. It's very good."

Draco looked down to find her staring up at him. It was he this time to initiate a kiss between them. And this time…this time it was different. Yes, the passion was still there as their lips touched and the kiss deepened within a second of their tongues meeting. Yes, the tenderness was still there as they both wiped away wet strands of hair from each other's faces. And yes, the desire was still there, even though all they did was kiss and then continue to watch the sky as the rain came down.

It was different because, this time, although it hadn't been labeled or directly said, she was his.

Author's note: I know many of you were concerned about that locket, BUT it was a conversation breaker and Draco's concern over Hermione's feelings towards Ron led to some good things! See? Wasn't all bad ;).

Until next time!

-WP

P.S. Also, to answer your review White Bishop, interesting idea you have there :). There is a scene in my head that I plan on writing soon that would include something like that, just didn't get to it yet. It would be the perfect place to include a conversation as such. Thank you ^_^