I think it's time to once again thank those of you who have fav/followed/reviewed—it really is motivational! Thanks to you all—and to JK Rowling!

Draco kept his eyes squeezed shut even after they had landed. He was scared of opening them, because that would make the fact that he was in muggle territory a reality. Then he remembered who his company was and rapidly opened his eyes. He could not exhibit weakness in front of Granger. He had to appear strong, fierce….cool, suave…dear Merlin, he was done for.

A gentle touch on his arm brought him back to the present.

"Are you ready Draco? You'll be great." She smiled gently up at him, and just like that, his nerves were under control. Not gone, but manageable.

He grinned back at her. "Let's get this over with. What shall my first torture be?"

She laughed, then responded simply:

"Dinner."

"That's it!?"

She laughed once more, though this time it sounded foreboding instead of charming to Draco, though it was the same laugh.

"Of course not!" She beckoned him to follow her into what Draco assumed to be a restaurant, it looked similar enough to wizarding food joints he had to admit. He was wondering if the fancy clothes they were wearing were purely for Granger's amusement until he noticed the sign in the window that said:

Fridays: Dinner and Dance—enjoy an evening of fine dining and ballroom dancing to live accompaniment!

He gulped. "Uh…Granger…what day of the week is it today?"

Hermione merely smiled and dragged him inside.

"Come on Draco! Dinner is dinner, it's really not that different in the muggle world!"

"Yes I know but dancing? Ballroom dancing?"

"You seemed to know what you were doing at the Yule Ball," Hermione pointed out. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Is this just because it's a muggle dance?"

The real difference was that at the Yule Ball Draco hadn't been worried about stepping on Pansy's toes or impressing her. But he didn't bother correcting Hermione. He'd rather she kept thinking that he was bigoted than clue her in to the cloud of emotions that he was trying to sort through in regards to her.

He was saved by the maître d' coming forward and leading them to their seats. Draco was very pleased with himself when he discovered that he wasn't thoroughly disgusted by the muggle man. Before he knew it he was sitting across from Hermione in a cosy booth in the corner of the restaurant. Steeling himself for the conversation that would ensue he gazed around (with interest, he grudgingly admitted,) at the muggle restaurant.

He had to admit that it was tastefully decorated in plush red and silver upholstery and crystal chandeliers. An expansive polished wood dance floor was the centrepiece of the room. The live band that had been advertised was situated unobtrusively in one corner of the room. Booths such as the one occupied by himself and Hermione lined the walls, and round tables, both small ones for couples and larger ones for groups too big for the booths, were scattered around the dance floor. He had to admit, he was impressed.

"So." Hermione stated.

Draco arched an eyebrow. "So?"

Hermione spoke the way that she did when speaking about an assignment. "What are your initial thoughts?" She asked rapturously.

Draco suddenly had the distinct sensation of being an experiment being examined. Recognising that this was just the way Hermione was, he played along and answered honestly.

"The décor is quite nice actually.'

Hermione smiled but was clearly not satisfied. "And?"

Bracing himself, Draco continued. "I…don't feel revolted as I had expected."

Looking around once more, Draco furrowed his brow. "They really are just people aren't they? I mean I still think that we must be superior in some way, I mean why else would we be blessed with powers and not them? But I don't hate them the same way I once did. I mean it's not their fault and," here his face hardened, "after the atrocities I committed, I'm certainly not in a position to judge who is and who isn't disgusting."

Hermione's heart went out to the brooding blonde before her. She had come to realize that there truly was good in Draco, and that he did have the potential to reveal it. She couldn't believe that in such a short amount of time he had come such a long way.

"Well I am certainly impressed!" She said in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Draco Malfoy, muggle lover!" She laughed.

To her delight, Draco laughed along with her before saying, "I wouldn't go that far Granger!"

The ice officially broken, the two teased each other until the waiter came to take their orders. Hermione bit back a smile as Draco floundered looking at the menu. There was a definite lost puppy look about him. Taking pity, she ordered a variety of appetizer-type entrées that were both unique to the muggle world and shareable, opting to both have him try a variety of dishes and save him from having to order. Draco flashed her a grateful smile that made her solution seem all the more worthwhile.

xxxxx

Their meal was going quite well, Draco had scoffed at some of the dishes initially, but had ceased complaining immediately upon actually sampling them, a fact which had caused Hermione to burst out laughing and Draco to glare moodily. He got over it however and they soon got into a debate about house elf rights. Draco may have been reconsidering his views on muggles and muggleborns but he was certainly holding fast about house elves. Hermione was enjoying herself however. She loved Harry and Ron dearly, but Draco was intellectually equal to her when it came to academics, and they were having a lively debate indeed. He was both clever and witty when he wasn't being an ass, and Hermione was enjoying herself immensely, as was Draco. He loved watching her when she was passionate about something. Her cheeks became flushed, her eyes bright, and she seemed to become infused with this energy, this passion, that he had never seen in anyone else. She truly was unique, and Draco was having a better time with her than he had had with any of his Slytherin counterparts in a long time. Hermione didn't seem to need alcohol or sex to have a good time. Her jokes weren't always at someone else's expense. She was truly a breath of fresh air.

xxxxx

At long last, their plates were cleared and their bellies full. Hermione studied Draco lolling back in his chair, trying to relieve the pressure in his belly before grinning mischievously and saying,

"You know what they say don't you? There's nothing better to work off a full stomach than ballroom dancing!"

"Is that a muggle saying?" Draco asked sarcastically.

Hermione giggled as she dragged him onto the dance floor and Draco couldn't help smiling in spite of himself.

Once they got to the dance floor however, it was Hermione's turn to be nervous. Now that she had him on the floor, the implications of the situation struck her. Was she really going to waltz with Draco Malfoy? There was something so intimate about a waltz, and she really wasn't the world's best dancer. What if she made a fool of herself?

Strangely enough, their roles reversed. Gently, Draco took her hand and placed it on his shoulder before clasping her other in his and saying gently, "Where's that Gryffindor courage?"

As she stared into his grey eyes, which no longer seemed cold but were now mesmerizing, Hermione squeezed his hand to indicate her resolve. Who was she kidding, she wanted to dance with him badly!

Just like that, they were off, twirling among the other dancers. Hermione found herself having the time of her life. Draco was an excellent dancer, and he made it effortless for her. She abruptly had the urge to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Draco asked in confusion.

"Look at us. Who would have thought that you and I would ever find ourselves dancing together—at a muggle restaurant at that!"

Chuckling, Draco replied, "I'm sure stranger things have happened Granger."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "For example?"

After considering, Draco replied. "I take that back. I'm stumped."

At that moment, the maître d' returned from outside where he had been shooing away a cat with markings around its eyes that had been sitting in the window. As the cat ran away, it was very pleased, for McGonagall had observed the happy pair throughout dinner and now as they waltzed happily on the dance floor. They were not only passing their assignment, but exceeding expectations. After all, they only had to learn to get along, and here they were falling in love.

Back inside, the band had just struck up a slow song, and Draco and Hermione had subconsciously relaxed into it. Both his hands had slid around her waist, hers around his neck. As they swayed to the music, both were lost in their own private thoughts, acknowledging how comfortable, how thrilling, how wonderful it felt to be dancing like this.

As soon as the song ended however, they abruptly felt awkward, as though they had just been doing something forbidden, which, in another time, would have been.

"Shall we move on to the next item on the agenda?" Hermione asked somewhat breathlessly.

"Works for me," Draco replied, eager to move past the awkwardness.

"Let's change and reconvene outside." Hermione said, avoiding eye contact.

A few minutes later, Draco, who had finished changing first, saw her come down the steps to greet him, dressed in jeans and a pink sweater, her hair falling around her face in her standard curls, though they were admittedly tamer than usual, still being somewhat under the effects of the product she had used earlier in the evening. She looked like her bookwormy self, though Draco had to admit she still looked pretty. If he was completely honest, she always looked pretty.

Hermione, for her part, thought Draco looked fantastic in black jeans and a black t-shirt. Though part of her felt like laughing—what was with him and black—she had to admit he looked sexy, though she would never admit it to anyone else.

"Now what?" Draco got right down to business. It seemed to him that dinner had been too easy. The part of him that was still mistrustful of the witch before him was making him suspicious. He also felt as though he had let his guard down too much on the dance floor. It was so easy for her to make him knock down his carefully constructed walls. He wasn't used to feeling vulnerable and was nowhere near accustomed to it yet.

"We, my friend, are off to the movie theatre!"

"What's a movie theatre?" Draco asked suspiciously, part of him dissecting whether or not she had employed the "my friend" as merely a saying.

"You know how wizard pictures move?"

"Yes…"

"Well a movie's kind of a muggle version of that!"

"You're telling me I have to spend time looking at a muggle photo album?!"

"No! Just…just wait and see." Hermione said exasperatedly.

Once at the theatre, Hermione dragged Draco to one of the many lineups.

"I thought it might be interesting for you to watch a World War II movie so that you could learn about one of the muggle world's Voldemorts." Hermione informed Draco. She then dragged him to another line, then another, until finally, she lead him into a big room with rows of raised seats all facing a gigantic white rectangle on the wall.

"What is this?" Draco asked confused.

Hermione merely shushed him as the lights suddenly turned out and the rectangle lit up and began talking as images appeared on it.

"What is this strange magic?" Draco whispered urgently.

"It's a movie!" Hermione once again took pity and explained. "Muggle moving pictures are called videos and they make different ones that tell different stories. This one is about a man named Hitler who actually existed, and he was like Voldemort in many ways."

As Draco watched Hitler's treatment of the Jews, he once again looked at muggles in a different light. There were many parallels to be drawn between Hitler and the Jews and Voldemort and muggles and muggleborns. Maybe he, Draco, did have more in common with muggles than he had thought. Maybe they and Hermione could understand him. He was also impressed. Even after everything Hitler put them through, they had persevered. And the allies and the axis powers had moved past the war and learned to get along once more. Glancing at Hermione, he thought, maybe there is hope.

When he wasn't focused on the screen, Draco was painfully aware of the fact that he was sitting in a darkened room, inches away from the amazing witch beside him. The couple making out behind them wasn't helping this distracting train of thought either. Looking at the man and woman sitting in front of them, he saw that they were holding hands. Stopping himself from considering the logic of his actions, he placed his hand palm up on the armrest shared between him and Hermione.

Glancing down at the movement, Hermione's heart began to race. Could the extended palm be an invitation? Inwardly chastising herself, she applied logic as she always did. This was still Draco Malfoy. Despite their pleasant dinner and that dance, he couldn't possibly want to hold her hand. Doing anything would only be setting herself up for disappointment and ridicule. Looking straight ahead at the screen, Hermione tore her thoughts away with difficulty from the attractive man beside her and his inviting hand.

Draco tried not to feel disappointed or stupid at his lolling hand. He told himself that she didn't see it in the dark, or would not have thought that he had placed it there as an invitation. The question was whether or not he should pursue this more bluntly.

Once the movie was over, they departed the theatre in relative silence, finding a secluded area to apparate. Once back at the castle, they bid each other a courteous, albeit not overly warm goodnight, before parting their separate ways, both satisfied and unfulfilled, enlightened and confused, more torn than ever.

Well this chapter has been my longest yet, and solely about Hermione and Draco, but I like it! Hope you did as well :)