Ding dong.

"Draco, get the door."

Ding dong.

"Hermione, get the door."

Ding dong.

"Oh for Merlin's sakes. Get up you great lump."

"No need to talk to me like that."

"Answer the door while I check on lunch."

"You really don't get the whole leaving it up to the elves thing, do you?"

"Shut it you. Don't you dare sit down again."

"Why do we live together again?"

"You know why."

"Ooh if looks could kill. Alright alright woman I'm going, so put that wand away."

"Arrogant prat."

"Bossy-boots."

"Real mature, Malfoy."

Rolling their eyes at each other with identical sneers on their faces they opened the front door.

The Merry Christmas's which were clearly about to fall from their friends mouths faded as they were replaced by titters and sniggers at the glares Hermione and Draco were sending each other.

It was a standing joke amongst the friends that the pair of them would blow each other up one day. On good days they could be the best of friends, but on bad days one of them was bound to end up in St Mungo's with parsley sprouting from their ears.

There was never any question of them being romantically attached; he was gay after all and she was so firmly in love with Fred that nothing would change it. They only lived together because he was guilty for what his parents had done to hers and her home during the war. Everyone was still a little fuzzy on the details of exactly how this arrangement had come about. Harry strongly suspected that blackmail/fear/subterfuge was involved in it somewhere.

"Eventful morning?" Harry asked, trying in vain to keep the smirk off his face.

"Someone take him away before I kill him."

Draco rolled his eyes again. "I haven't been that bad." He grumbled as their friends followed them into the capacious sitting room.

"You woke me up at five this morning!"

"What? Its Christmas. You know I revert back to childhood when its Christmas morning."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Drinks, anyone?"

The boys jokingly demanded butterbeers.

"Draco, get the drinks."

"Get them yourself."

"Don't you start with me."

"Children children, please." For the first time since his arrival Hermione looked at Fred. She tried to fight back the blush that was attempting to invade her cheeks.

"Sorry." She mumbled, hurrying off towards the kitchen. Ginny followed, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

When the girls returned, Ginny trying to pry information out of Hermione, the boys were engaged in a heated row about, unsurprisingly, quidditch. Ron and Blaise were arguing about the Cannons and the others wisely decided not to interfere.

It occurred to Hermione that Blaise was getting angrier than he probably should about quidditch. She stole a glance at Draco, talking with the twins, and noticed that he looked decidedly uncomfortable. Maybe he was worrying about letting something slip from their conversation last night which would cause a row and ruin things for Hermione's chance at happiness.

Then she noticed Blaise glaring at his best friend. Ah. That was it. Blaise knew about him and Ron. And by the looks of things he wasn't pleased at the development.

Oh this should be fun.