New chapter! Meant to put this up yesterday but life got in the way. Special thanks to Ariel, kvance, harrypottergeekychick16, bluebook1496 and ariadne0318 for your reviews, I will cherish them forever. :P please don't be shy to read and review, I love hearing your opinions. Hope you like the chapter!

When Draco returned to Hogwarts, he headed straight for his dorm. He did not linger in the Slytherin Common Room, and the other students were grateful for it. He could feel their staring eyes on the back of his neck as he crossed the room, like a weight pressing down on his shoulders. When he opened the dormitory door, there was a letter waiting for him on his pillow. The black-bordered envelope sat innocently on his emerald-green sheets. He sighed, bundled up his hands in the ends of his sleeves and threw the damn thing onto the fire.

It exploded.

His left arm itched and he scratched at it, absent-mindedly. For a second he stared at the flames, thinking. The curse hadn't been set off when he'd touched it – was a simple layer of cloth really all it took to protect him?

A ghost of his old smirk flittered across his face. He could easily produce a curse better than that. His curses had never been as good as his father's, but it would take far more than a shirtsleeve to protect someone from one of his spells…

He blushed, and looked away from the dancing flames.

It wasn't something to be proud of. His spells had almost landed him in Azkaban.

A rattling, stomping noise outside the dormitory door told him that the other seventh-year boys were coming up to bed. Draco hesitated for a moment, his arm still itching, and then darted for the door.

He did not want to see them.

He was out of the Slytherin Common Room and into the corridors before the rest of his house could so much as look at him. Persephone Khong glared at him as he passed – but then again, she was always glaring at him – but he ignored her and sprinted up the stairs.

Once he had put several flights of stairs between him and the rest of the Slytherins, he could feel a little of the pressure easing off his shoulders. He slowed his pace, keeping to the empty corridors and out of the way of the other students and allowing his mind – and his feet – to wander.

There hadn't been any letters over Christmas. He supposed his parents must have set up wards to keep them away; he would be very surprised if they hadn't received a few exploding letters themselves. But surely his parents' protection wasn't stronger than all the magic that the Hogwarts professors had to offer…

A suit of armour turned its head as he passed, creaking loudly. Draco flinched, and came back down to earth with a bump.

He was outside the library.

He turned around immediately and headed for the end of the corridor. It wasn't safe for him to be here, not after he'd decided to –

"Draco!"

He knew it was her before she'd even spoken. He couldn't say how, but he just knew it.

He turned around.

Hermione Granger was smiling at him, her arms full of books. A Gryffindor scarf was draped loosely around her neck, her hair was slightly damp and her nose and cheeks were pink from the cold. She'd clearly just come in from the snow – she'd probably only just arrived – and headed straight for the library.

Draco couldn't help but smile.

"How was Christmas?" she asked, her cheeks still very pink.

I can't see you any more.

The words were on the tip of his tongue, burning like acid drops.

He shrugged. "All right. How was yours?"

She looked away, just for a second, and Draco could have kicked himself. Of course her Christmas had been rubbish, she'd broken up with that idiot Weasley…Draco thought this could have only been a good thing, but she would be really sad about it and now she'd probably never want to speak to him again…

"Oh, you know," she said, her voice casual, "quiet, mostly."

They stared at each other. Hermione's cheeks were still very pink.

I can't see you any more.

He should tell her now, get it over with before she got too upset. Not that she'd get upset if he told her, anyway, she'd probably be grateful for all the free time…

"So, um, about these lessons…"

She nodded. "Yes, I'd been thinking about that."

He flinched. It was like she'd slapped him. She'd been thinking about stopping these lessons too…but why? Had he said something, done something to offend her?

"What?" he snapped.

She glared at him. "You're very edgy tonight, aren't you?"

"Just say what you have to say, Granger!"

She raised her eyebrows.

"Well," she said, a definite coldness to her voice, "I was going to suggest that we changed the place of these lessons to somewhere a bit more private. You're going to need to practice spellwork if you want to pass your NEWTs."

At once, an incredible lightness spread through Draco's chest. He grinned at her.

"Oh."

"But if you don't want to…"

"No!" Draco said, half-laughing, half-shouting, "I mean, yes! That's a great idea!"

Hermione stared at him.

"So, where do you want to do it? I mean, where do you want to have the lessons?" he asked, blushing fiercely. Oh Merlin, he thought, a lovesick twelve-year-old could have done better than that…

"Well…if you don't mind going back in there, I thought we might try the Room of Requirement. I'll understand if you don't want to go back there, but I just thought…"

"No, no! Yes, that's perfect! I'll see you there. Tomorrow, at eight?"

She smiled. "Of course."

He watched her leave, and leant back against the stone wall.

The second he had seen her smile, all his resolutions, all his decisions, all the hours agonising over what he was going to do when he saw her again – now, they were all meaningless. They had evaporated the second he had looked into her bright, brown eyes and he was left, babbling, in her wake.

He leaned his forehead against the nearest suit of armour. The cool metal pressed against his head like a mother's hand, and he let out a groan. Stupid Draco, he thought, stupid, stupid Draco…

The suit of armour reached around and patted him on the back.