When the meal was over and everyone scattered to their beds, I snuck quietly from my room and to the other end of the house where Draco slept. I found him reading peacefully under a dull lamp.

He set his book down and turned off the lamp as I shut the door behind me. He was shirtless, his long, lean torso exposed with moonlight illuminating off of it. I walked toward him, slowly, as if I was creeping up on a frightened animal.

He held his hand out for me, and pulled me into a hug, tight against his bare chest. I took a deep breath of his cologne, a woodsy-pine smell; expensive, but subtle.

"You alright, Granger?" His tone was playful, a smirk creeping up on his face, long and thin.

I let out a short sigh, "I just couldn't sleep, that's all."

He stepped back from me, hands around my arms in the aftermath of our hug, "So you'd thought you'd come disturb me, then?"

I smiled and hung my head to the right, "I can go, if you want. I just thought since your light was on…"

His hand met my cheek, and he pulled my eyes to his, "Don't be daft, Granger." His smile was warm and inviting.

I sunk under the weight of his smile, and backed myself onto is bed. The frame creaked under my weight as I sat down, heavy with restlessness.

"You weren't exactly trying to sleep yourself."

Draco sat beside me, slinking his long, strong arm around my back, "Quite the observation from the brightest witch her age."

I poked his chest playfully, "You're making it rather difficult for me to be friendly, Draco Malfoy."

He drew in a deep breath, "Alright then, how about I beat you mercilessly in a game of muggle chess?"

I craned myself to the side, a challenging expression on my face, "You? Beat me?! Oh, that would be a show!"

He shot up to his feet, pulling on a shirt and reaching his hand towards me, "Let's have at it then!"

I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet, "Fine, but you're not going to win!"

He chuckled quickly, pulling me out his bedroom door and down the stairs with him to the foyer where the chess board was set up, "We'll see about that!"

At first, Draco had agreed on best two-out-of-three games of chess, then it turned into five-of-seven, then it was so many games and so many glasses of butterbeer later that we had collectively lost count of both.

My head was swimming, and Draco slammed down a piece on the board in front of me, "Checkmate!"

I sat back in my chair, letting my head fall with a smile on my face as the room spun around me, "Alright, alright, you win!"

He crossed his arms over his chest, a smug look on his face, "So you're admitting your defeat then, are you Granger?"

I laughed, bringing my heavy head back up to look at him, "Yes! Yes, if it will shut you up!"

He stood, tall and handsome in the moonlight that seeped through the curtains of the foyer, "I think you had a butterbeer too many."

I pressed the palm of my hand to my forehead, still giggling, "Or three."

I couldn't remember how many I had actually had, but I knew it was too many, a few too many.

He laughed and moved swiftly towards me, helping me out of the chair, "Let's get you to bed then, you old drunk."

I didn't protest, and leaned heavy against him as he helped me up the stairs and to my bedroom, still smelling the scent of his cologne as my body pressed against his.

He sat me down on the edge of my bed, I pulled him with me, "Will you stay?" I asked, almost child-like pleading in my tone.

He seemed shocked, "Wh-what?"

I nuzzled my head into his collarbone, "Will you stay with me?"

He rested his cheek on top of my head, "Hermione, I don't think-"

"Please?" I said, again with the childish pleading, "I don't want to be alone." That was truthful, I didn't. I hadn't mentioned the reason I couldn't sleep was because I was awoken by a nightmare containing my memories of the events that took place at the Manor. I didn't want to have another one with nobody there to comfort me.

He lifted his head and I knew he was looking down at me, "Sure."

I looked up at him, "Really? You will?"

He smirked that all too familiar smirk, "Don't make me change my mind now, Granger."

I stood, Draco following me to steady my wobbly stance, "I like Hermione better."

He hugged me quickly and pulled back the comforter of my freshly made bed, we crawled under the sheets together and he held me like he was protecting me. I felt safe there in his arms, and drifted quickly into a dreamless sleep.

I awoke to the sounds and smells of breakfast being made, and talking in the common area underneath me. It sounded as if there were more than just the lot of us that had been there yesterday. I listened closely, trying not to disturb Draco's peaceful sleep by shifting too much in his hold.

"… Malfoy's room is empty…"

"… Nobody has seen Hermione either…"

"… Well someone drank butterbeer and played chess last night, I doubt he did it alone…"

Fred, George, Molly, and Arthur Weasley. The whole family was here! I was beyond excited to see them, even as I realized they were downstairs making assumptions regarding mine and Draco's late night chess-capades and our sleeping in my bed together.

Just as I was beginning to ponder how explaining this would go, Draco shifted under me and breathed in deeply, his eyes blinking open from the sleep trance he had just been in.

"Hello." He said, smiling at me in a way I couldn't read.

"Good morning," I smiled back at him, "thank you for staying with me last night. I'm sorry I was such a drunken mess." I wriggled away from him a bit, enough so that we could sit up without crushing one another.

"It was actually quite cute," he brushed my hair out of my face, "but don't think you're going to get out of me teasing you for losing so many rounds of chess just because you were completely sloshed."

I laughed and bit my lip, "We'll have to have a sober rematch."

He smiled at me, grey eyes outlining my facial features as his hand slid slowly up and down my arm, "Sure, but I'll still win."

I scoffed at him, "Whatever you say, Draco Malfoy."

He lifted his hand to cup my cheek, then bent forward and kissed my forehead, "It sounds like we're being missed downstairs."

I nodded, keeping my head down furiously trying to hide my now-flushed cheeks.

"We should get dressed," I said, my head still low.

He swept his hand across my hot face, "I'll leave you to it, then. See you at breakfast."

I looked up at him as he kissed the bridge of my nose and then retreated off to his bedroom.

I dressed with a too-big grin on my face, thinking of how warm and cozy I felt in the arms of my once sworn enemy. Was I in over my head? What was this? Am I thinking too much? I'm definitely thinking too much.

I always think too much, that's something Draco has said to me on many occasions.

'You over-analyze everything, Granger.'

The memory couldn't help but bring a smile to my face, thought it was said with a bite of coldness at the time. Maybe I do, and maybe I should just stop thinking about Malfoy all together. He was a friend, a right good one, and all he did was comfort me in my drunken state.

I looked at myself in the mirror, hair braided back behind me. I couldn't help but smile giddily at myself as I thought about the kisses Draco had left me with. I stiffened myself and shook the grin off, not entirely, but enough to go down to breakfast, meeting Draco on the stairs.

He smiled at me, making the giddy grin reappear in full force, "Ladies first," he insisted.

I stepped ahead of him, down to the living area where we met George Weasley and his snide half-grin.

I gave him a 'please don't' look as he cocked his head to the side, and instead of speaking he only raised an eyebrow and sipped his tea.

Draco trailed me to the kitchen, close, but not close enough to arise any more suspicion than we already had.

Molly Weasley came straight to us, hugging us both quickly, "It's so good to see you two! I'm so glad you're alright." She smiled, half concerned. She glanced quickly down at my arm, covered with the sleeve of my jumper, then returned to setting the table, motioning for us to sit.

Draco pulled out a chair for me, and then took the one right next to me as he spoke with Mr. Weasley aimlessly about the muggle board games and books he had been collecting for me.

I was admiring the sharp, defined features of Draco's face when Mr. Weasley spoke directly to me, "Hermione, dear, what is your favorite muggle game?"

I ripped my eyes from Draco and looked at Mr. Weasley, "Oh, uh, I'm particularly fond of Monopoly, actually."

Mr. Weasley seemed entirely too happy, "Monopoly! I know muggles who don't even like the game! What a choice, Miss Granger. I think I can get my hands on a set if you'd like?"

I nodded, smiling, "I would actually love to see all of us crowding around a table trying to play Monopoly, Mr. Weasley!"

He laughed, and turned his attention to Harry who was just finding his seat. While they were speaking, Draco was fiddling with his silverware, not sure where to look. His cheeks were a bit colored, flushed with embarrassment as the entire house knew where he had spent the night.

I put my hand on his knee, quickly, only to reassure him that it was fine, and he wasn't going to be hexed into another dimension for sharing my bed with me for a few hours.

His sharp, quick reflexes grasped my hand before I could pull away, and under the table our fingers intertwined and sat on his lap comfortably until breakfast was served.

After helping Mrs. Weasley with the mess of dinner, I retreated to my preferred corner of the sitting area by the fireplace and opened up the book I was reading on advanced potions making. The last thing I wanted to let slip was my schooling, as I fully planned to return to school after this mess was over and complete my N.E.W.T. exams.

Harry and Ron were in the foyer, playing Wizard's Chess and talking quietly with one another. Though I tried not to eavesdrop, I couldn't help myself when I heard my name. Being careful not to look up from my reading, I listened closely at their conversation.

"What the bloody hell do you suppose that was all about?" Ron asked Harry, with almost pain in his voice.

"What are you talking about, Ron?" I heard the familiar crack of another chess piece being violently eliminated from the game board.

"Malfoy and Hermione making eyes at each other over breakfast! And I don't suppose you want to guess Malfoy slept on the floor of the cellar last night." Ron snapped the last few words out like they hurt his teeth to say it.

"I think you're reading too much into it, Ron. You heard George, they had to have been drinking quite heavily last night. Maybe they just fell asleep. You know Hermione and Malfoy have gotten close with all the time they've spent together."

Ron had a shudder in his voice, "That's something I don't want to think about, the time they spend together. That right old git better just keep away from me and Hermione."

Harry snorted, "Don't get your trousers in a wad, Ron."

My eavesdropping was interrupted by Draco standing behind me, I jumped when I felt his hand on my shoulder.

"Calm down, Granger. Doing a bit of eavesdropping are we?"

I turned to face him, he was smiling at me devilishly, "I'll have you know that I'm reading up on potions making, not eavesdropping."

He patted my shoulder lightly, "Right," then came around in front of me and handed me a mug of hot tea.

"Thank you," I said, putting my book on the table in front of me and soaking in the warmth of the mug in my hands.

"So, what are they jumbled about? Our little midnight meeting?" He smirked at me, sipping from his mug with one eyebrow raised.

I almost caved, but with a sharp change of my mind spoke softly, "I wouldn't know. Why don't you ask them yourself?"

He relaxed back into the corner of the couch he was sitting on and pulled The Daily Prophet up to reading level, "You're as stubborn as they come, Granger."

I set my mug on the table and resumed my place in my book, "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

Draco and I both smirked at one another over our readings, then went back to what we were doing as Ginny walked into the room. She wasn't for the gossiping about without getting the stone cold truth, as she made very clear as she was entering the room.

"So, Malfoy, is Hermione's bed just as comfortable as yours?" She sat directly across from me, staring at Draco and avoiding my death glare.

Draco choked on the tea he had just sipped, "I'm sorry?" He asked, half apologetically, half questioningly.

"Oh, come on. We all know what happened…" She glanced a quick look over at me, I shook my head in disapproval, but she hammered on, "Well, we speculate what happened after Hermione's door closed, but you know what I mean."

"Ginny!" I couldn't hold it, I clapped my book shut and set it on the table, "I hardly think any of that is your business." I tried to calm myself, but I didn't feel as if I succeeded very well.

She adjusted in her chair, "So it's true then, you two-"

I cut her off, "No we most certainly did not!"

Draco stood and smiled at me before turning to Ginny, "Her bed is rather comfortable, though."

My face flushed hot with embarrassment as he made his way up the stairs away from the uncomfortable situation he had just put me into. I couldn't think of what to say to redeem myself in the moment, so I grabbed my book and trailed him up the stairs and straight into his bedroom.

"What on earth were you thinking Draco Malfoy? As if it hadn't been awkward enough for the both of us to have her spouting off that way and then you just had to-"

He put his finger to my lips, shutting me up immediately. He was so calm and rigid, his eyes piercing and gorgeous in the dim light coming from the curtained window.

"Why do you care so much, Granger?" His tone was soft, welcoming, though he was poking at my nerves and he bloody well knew it.

His finger fell from my lips and his thumb traced the lining of my jaw until his hand was resting in the crook of my neck just behind my ear.

"I- I suppose that I don't," that was a lie.

I cared, but I didn't know why. Why should I care? So what if we shared my bed, or even if we had done more than that in our drunken state, what does it matter to anyone? I mean, maybe to Ron, if I was correct on assuming he had some sort of affectionate feelings towards me, but that was doubtful.

Draco pulled me into him, hugging me tight, "Yes you do," the hug ended entirely too soon, "but we don't have to talk about it."

He perched himself onto his bed, back resting against the headboard, and resumed reading the newspaper he had brought up with him.

I started to leave, but when I turned I could feel his eyes on me, "What?" I said, not turning around to look at him but not taking another step toward his door.

I heard the paper crinkle, "I thought you might stay up here and read with me, with all the talk going on downstairs."

I turned to look at him, he was peering over the paper at me with his sharp, grey eyes.

"I supposed I could do that, if you wouldn't mind."

He chuckled, lifting the paper back to his eyes, "I wouldn't have asked if I was going to mind."

I sat myself in the chair in the corner of the room, trying to focus on my book but noticing myself taking too many breaks to glance over at Draco. He was slowly thumbing through The Daily Prophet, paying no mind to anything but what was written on the paper in front of him.

I returned to my book and concentrated the best I could until I heard him fold the paper and set it down beside him, letting out a long sigh as he did.

"Good news or bad?" I asked, almost regretting it.

I didn't really want to hear any bad news.

"Indifferent," he smirked my direction, I knew it without looking, "nothing really."

I closed my book and set it on his dresser, "No news is good news, isn't it?"

He scoffed, "I suppose you're right, Granger."

"How many times do I have to tell you, I'd much prefer you call me Hermione," I jutted at him playfully.

He stood and made his way over to me with long, quick strides, "And I would much prefer you quit being so damn likeable at all, Hermione." He said my name with a playful bite, and smiled at me cunningly.

I leaned my head back against the wall, "What is it that's gotten you so friendly about me, Draco?"

He leaned into me, our noses were only inches apart now, his hands supporting him on the arms of the chair, "I needed someone to beat in muggle chess, so I went for the easiest target." His smirk was undeniable.

I thumped him on the chest, drawing him back a bit, "I suppose you don't remember all the times I took your head off then!"

He scrunched his nose as if he was trying to think, then shook his head, "No, I can't seem to recall…" His voice trailed off with playful pettiness.

"You're such a git, Draco Malfoy!" I couldn't stifle my laughter, which came bubbling up despite my desperate attempts at keeping a straight face.

Draco hooked his arm under the small of my back and pulled me up from the chair, hugging me again. This hug was longer and more intimate as he settled his head in the groove of my neck and shoulder, letting out a breath that seemed to make him lighter.

He breathed in the smell of my hair, then commented on my shampoo and let me go as we both heard footsteps coming down the hall. It was Ginny, who grinned obnoxiously when she saw the two of us together in his room, though we had backed quite a few steps away from each other.

"Goodnight, you two." She said, smiling childishly as she walked past Draco's room and into her own.

Draco stood, looking at me like he was waiting for something.

"What are you looking at?"

He put a hand on his hip, "Well I don't suppose Potter will be sleeping in his room tonight, so you might want to shut the door to avoid any further… speculation."

I craned my head to one side, "Are you asking me to stay the night with you, Draco Malfoy?"

Draco turned and pulled his shirt off, throwing it into the hamper that sat in his open closet, "Well I'm not asking you to leave." He turned back to me, looking at me in a questioning way.

"I'll stay, but I have to change my bandages." I had almost forgotten about the carved word that lay on my arm, admitting it was there made it itch and tingle with pain.

Draco moved to me, taking my arm in his hand, "I can help you with that."

He looked like he was hurt by it, too, and the memories of his finding out flooded back into my head.

He cried- for me- because it was his aunt that had inflicted the wounds. He had experienced it himself, and he was just as ashamed of his scars as I was mine, and he cried for me, with me, as he helped dress them the day it had happened. Remembering it was painful, almost more so than remembering how the marks got there in the first place.

I shut his door as he pulled bandages and tape from his dresser, almost the same place I kept my first-aid kit.

He pulled the arm of my jumper up slowly, carefully revealing the bandages now worn at the edges. He removed them gently, not speaking as he revealed the word that was carved into my skin underneath. He moved his hand over my forearm as if he wanted to touch the marks.

"You can-" his head shot up, his eyes met mine and I could see the apology written in them, "-touch them, I mean. You can touch them."

He moved his eyes from mine and slowly, gently, ran his fingers over the lifted letters carved into my arm. His eyelashes were suddenly wet with tears and I felt one hit my hand and he reached over to grab the fresh bandages.

I ran my thumb gently under his eyes as he dressed my wound, wiping away his tears as my own pinched and swelled behind my eyes. As I began to cry, I felt Draco looking at me, and I ran my hands over his scars, almost involuntarily. It was something I felt obligated to do. A childish 'you touch mine, I touch yours' kind of thing.

With my hand resting delicately on his bare chest, just under his scars, he pulled my sleeve back down and swiped his hands on my cheeks to wipe away my tears. His were gone now, and his eyes were back to their fierce, piercing greyness.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him gratefully, "Thank you."

He nodded his head in reply and let his hands fall to his sides, "I'm so, so sorry she did this to you." He was looking at the floor.

I leaned down to meet his gaze, "It's not your place to apologize, Draco. Really, it isn't."

He looked up at me as his hand found the small of my back. He guided me to his bed and pulled the sheets back for me. We climbed in together, cuddled up like we had been the night before. This time we weren't heavy with drunkenness in the bitter moonlight, but it was still just as comfortable as it had been before. I never wanted to leave his arms, and I fell asleep instantly.