A/N: This chapter might be a little controversial, so please read it with an open mind. Anyway, I hope you like it!

It was a tiresome evening, to say the least.

I wished to retire within the first hour, but I couldn't. It was Harry and Ginny's first Christmas Eve celebration in their home and I had to stay and support them, even if that meant being within earshot of Draco and his gorgeous girlfriend — or date, whatever she was.

Ginny tossed me worried looks now and then but I refrained from leaving my place near the bar; being that it was the only way to ensure my friends wouldn't bombard me with questions and concerns.

I didn't have the stomach for their pity; not then.

I did, however, have quite the appetite for alcohol, and managed to empty an entire bottle of wine on my own.

Don't worry, it wasn't a full size.

I had to wake up bright and early the next morning, as my parents were hosting a Christmas party at their house, where every relative within the country would be in attendance. Lord knew those parties were frustrating enough. I couldn't fathom the idea of attending with an out-and-out hangover.

Even so, the wine was beginning to play a number on me.

I left the main area, where everyone was dancing and chatting and oblivious to my inner turmoil, and moved through the decorated corridor, to the loo. I had so much on my mind, about the past couple hours and the past couple years and everything that led up to that awkward reunion. I had so much I wanted to say — to shout — but no words to speak.

It seemed the universe were torturing me for wrongdoings in an earlier incarnation, because I couldn't understand how I deserved the things that were happening to me. It had to be supernatural. It can't have been fate progressing at a natural, even pace.

I knew this for certain, when I reached the loo and opened the door.

"Sorry —" I apologized, slamming face first into someone's chest.

It was a man — but not just any man.

It was him.

I darted one look in his direction, and swallowed hard.

"Can we talk?" he asked, as we stood within alarmingly close proximity.

If there were ever a moment to run back as fast as possible and never return, it was then. I planned it out in my mind, where I would go, how I would get there, what I would tell the others when they asked — but those plans came to a screeching halt when I felt his hand on my arm.

I backed away. "What are you doing?"

He opened his mouth, startled. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to — to offend you."

"Then leave me alone," I told him, surprised by the words coming from my mouth.

It seemed he was equally surprised, which stirred a pleasurable feeling within me, as I watched his conviction waver.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, head down. "For everything."

"Why?" I questioned, curious as to what his answer could possibly be.

In place of a proper response, he sighed; frustrated.

Doing so surprised me. It seemed to me he had everything sorted — dream career, gorgeous girlfriend, beautiful home, recovered wealth, the whole lot.

No reason to be frustrated.

But the look on his face was unmistakable.

"Listen," I said to him, sensing where this headed, and not at all prepared. "You shouldn't keep Katherine waiting. It's rude."

He darted one look at me, surprised and then heated; with what, I couldn't be sure. "Don't play that game."

I scoffed at this. "What game?"

There was a pause in the conversation, wherein he moved closer to me. This time, I didn't back away. I stood my ground and waited, knowing all the while that anyone could have interrupted us — but I didn't care. I'd been drinking away my sorrows for at least three hours and finally, I felt something other than dazed humiliation.

I was angry — righteously, so.

"It seems to me that you're the only one who plays games around here," I added, pushing down the rush of emotion that threatened to envelope me.

"You have a right to be upset," he said. " — and I know it doesn't seem like it, but I meant every word of that letter."

I closed my eyes, overwhelmed. "Don't talk about the fucking letter."

Before he could respond, or at least acknowledge the fact that I was tearing up in front of him, I left.

Later That Night

It was around three in the morning, that I heard the front door open and footsteps in the corridor. I was in my bedroom, having returned from the party earlier than I'd planned — with Ginny's blessing. I wanted to stay late and help clean up, but the idea of being trapped in the same vicinity as Ferret Boy and his doppelgänger date made me want to vomit.

I sighed, feeling slightly guilty.

Katherine seemed nice. There was no reason to loop her into the same mess. For all I knew, she had no idea about what happened two years ago. In fact, I was sure of it. There was no woman on earth — no matter how laid back — that would have spoken to me with such kindness after what happened between me and her beau.

Granted, it happened before she knew him, but still.

"You're awake," someone voiced. " — and still in your dress."

I fixed my attention to the door, and found Nott leaning against the frame with his hands in his pockets.

"The zipper's stuck," I explained, embarrassed as he laughed at me.

In spite of his amusement, he moved from the door to the bed and made motion for me to turn around before kneeling over me and working at the zipper.

"Merlin's tits," he voiced, shifting it about. "This thing really is stuck."

"Told you," I grimaced. "I spent two hours trying to fix it."

There was more laugher behind me, where he stood. "I think the universe is trying to tell you something."

" — that I'm cursed to relive the embarrassment from tonight over and over and over again?"

" — that you looked nice tonight," he countered, freeing the zipper some time later, after which he dragged it down my back.

I breathed out, relieved. "Thanks."

"No problem," he said, turning his back to me as I slipped out of the dress and into some pyjamas. "If you're interested, Ron mentioned something about a New Year's Eve party at Daphne's house."

"You've been talking to Ron?" I asked, amused.

He shrugged. "Is that weird?"

I thought back to what happened six years ago. "You don't want to know."

"Come on," he frowned, folding his arms. "Since when do you have the upper hand in anything?"

"Since now," I told him, tapping him on the shoulder to let him know I was decent.

"Will you at least give me a hint?" he asked.

In lieu of a response, I draped the dress over a hanger and made room for it in my closet. I didn't wear many clothes, but I had loads of them. Most were from Ginny or Jillian, in attempt to brighten my wardrobe. I appreciated the thought behind their generosity, but the clothes they bought me were a little inappropriate for the office — where I spent most of my time.

I turned, and found Nott seated on the edge of my bed, waiting for me to fill him in on the Ron situation. "You really want to know?"

He nodded. "Yes, yes, yes. Tell me, tell me, tell me."

I laughed, before jumping on the mattress and folding both arms behind my head, pleased with the fact that I was finally in a position of power. Nott climbed beside me and kept quiet, like a child waiting for a bedtime story. I glanced at him for a moment, wondering how we had gone from what happened in the broom closet to being best friends and roommates — but I didn't think long in it.

Some friendships came with ease. Some didn't.

"Ron found out I lost my virginity to you, in a rather unconventional way…" I told him, speaking carefully.

For a moment, it appeared as though he hadn't heard me, but the blank look on his face vanished as soon as he connected the dots. "You broke up because of me?"

"Er — not entirely."

His face screwed. "Explain."

I scrunched my mouth to the side, contemplating how I could phrase this without ruining our roommate situation. In truth, I loved living with him. Our friendship was low maintenance and we communicated on an almost telepathic level.

"It's more how he found out, than anything else…"

Nott sensed something amiss. "Someone else told him?"

"Good guess," I offered. "But no one else told him. I — I didn't tell anyone, actually."

"Neither did I," he admitted. "In part because no one in House Slytherin can keep their mouth shut."

I faced him. " — and the other part?"

"Out of respect for you," he answered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "No more side tracking."

There was no way around it. I'd been avoiding this topic for the past two years — since seeing him at the Harvest Moon party, really. If I wanted to avoid the topic in the future, I'd have to buck up and tear that bandaid as fast as possible.

"I…I can't believe I'm telling you this, but one night…I…erm…I was having sex with Ron and…and I broke the one cardinal rule in love making…"

"Too much teeth?" he guessed.

I tossed him an annoyed look. "No, nothing to do with teeth. If — If you must know, I said someone else's name in the middle of an orgasm."

It took a moment — several, actually — for the words to register, and when they did, those wheels started turning. I sat there, worried, anticipating a storm of endless teasing and shameless flirtation, but nothing happened.

Instead, he shrugged. "Shit happens."

I arched an eyebrow. "Shit happens?"

"Shit happens," he nodded, pausing. "Better yet — explain to me how Ron Weasley managed to give you an orgasm."

This time, I paused. It was a good question, with a great answer, which I gave him using my hands as a gauge. I held them about nine inches apart, and watched as my roommate connected the dots.

He cringed — out loud — and smothered his face with a pillow. "I did not need to know that!"

"You asked!" I laughed, whacking him over the head with another, before he decided to retaliate.

It was my first pillow fight in over a decade, and I ended up sprawled on the bed with my hair an even bigger mess than before and Nott above me, pumping his fist in the air in victory, before I whacked him again, across the chest.

I tumbled with him, a mixture of horror and amusement tugging at my face, as we fell unceremoniously to the hardwood floor.

For some reason, he ended up on top of me again.

"Thanks for breaking my fall," he winked.

I tried to retort with something clever, but there was sharp pain along my right wrist, which left me groaning in discomfort. "I think it's sprained."

But my roommate was already one step ahead, having taken hold of the area in question and examined it with a light from his wand. It appeared he was scanning something. "You're right," he told me, glancing up. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay," I assured him, thinking back to our earlier conversation. "Good thing you're a Healer."

"Good thing," he agreed, conjuring a bandage and using it to compress the affected area. "Stay here. I'll get some ice."

Before I could get a word in, he was up and out of the room. I waited there, still on the floor, until he returned with an ice pack and a vial of what I assumed would help with the pain. I watched him, as he placed the ice pack over my wrist, careful not to hurt me, and then as he administered the potion.

It tasted like nothing, which I appreciated.

"Keep your wrist elevated for the next couple days and you should be fine in no time," he told me, sounding all Healer-like.

I smiled at this, proud of him. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. Just doing my —"

"No," I interjected. "I meant, thank you for distracting me from you-know-what."

It was then that he realized the true meaning of what I had said, and in that moment, he leaned closer to me and wiped the droplets from my lower lash line. It was intimate, without being romantic, as most things were with him.

"Honestly, Granger….you're a catch…and anyone who can't see that isn't worth the breath it takes to show them."

A/N: Opinions?

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xo.