DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, nor am I affiliated in any way with J.K. Rowling.

"How long do you think we should wait?" Hermione asked two hours later, leafing through the musty clothes that hung in the dresser from decades ago. "And would you think it completely immoral of me to come back and take some of these dresses?"

"Until lunch and yes," Draco answered, sitting on the thick wooden chair that accompanied the table and watching her in amusement.

"Why?" Hermione asked, turning and pouting slightly. "I'm sure Zella wouldn't mind."

"You'd be wearing the clothes of your murdered ancestor, that doesn't strike you as a little ghoulish?"

"It's not like I'd be wearing the clothes she died in," Hermione began to protest before sighing. "You're right, it's morbid. But she has really nice dresses."

"Where would you wear them though, seriously?" he paused and frowned. "And yes, I'm aware that I sounded very feminine just then."

Hermione smiled. "I don't know, but every girl needs at least one nice dress."

"You have a nice dress, you have the one you wore at the Yule Ball," Draco reminded her.

Hermione turned to him, her expression confused. It took Draco a moment to realize what he'd said.

"You remember the dress I was wearing?" she asked.

"No," Draco said hastily. When Hermione raised her eyebrows he shrugged. "But I remember that you didn't look half-bad in it. And that was back then. So now that I like you," he paused thoughtfully before continuing with a smile, "a little bit more, I think you looked beautiful in it."

Hermione looked away, a blush creeping onto her cheek and a small smile lighting up her face. She knew there was nothing to reply that wouldn't make her sound arrogant or irritatingly modest, so she remained quiet.

"Although having Krum as your accessory endangered your chances of being prettiest girl there," Draco continued in a voice that was a little too carefree.

"Jealous?" Hermione smirked.

"Of the best, richest and youngest professional Quidditch player of all time?" He paused. "No."

Hermione laughed. "There's nothing to be jealous about. Viktor and I don't really talk anymore."

"I could be as successful as him anyway," Draco muttered, ignoring Hermione. "If someone gave me the chances he'd had, I'd be a global superstar."

"Of course you would."

"Don't patronize me."

"Don't fish for compliments."

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but closed it again knowing when he was beaten. He hoped he'd get to win at least some of the word battles he knew he would share with Hermione in the weeks to come.

"Do you even want to be a professional Quidditch player?" she asked with a slight frown.

"Why not? It's a high-paying profession, I'm passionate about it, Merlin knows I'm good at it and with my father's connections-"

"Are you sure you want to use your father's connections?" Hermione asked quietly, searching his face.

"Not if I can help it," Draco admitted. "But Quidditch is…I mean, I'm not serious about pursuing it or anything. If I get the chance I'll take it but otherwise I'm alright."

"You plan on living off your good looks and wit?" Hermione asked, only half-sarcastically.

Tired of standing, she moved over to the bed. Lying on her front and facing Draco, she settled herself down and ignored her stomach pining for food.

"You forgot intelligence," Draco added.

"Seriously though, what do you want to do when you leave Hogwarts?"

Draco muttered something, not meeting her eyes. When she asked him to repeat himself, he glared at her.

"You heard me."

"I didn't," Hermione protested.

"I said…being an Auror…sounds like maybe something I would want to do," he repeated in a low voice as though admitting it was something to be ashamed about. With a jolt, Hermione realized that he probably thought it was.

"Harry and Ron would like to go into that as well," Hermione mused. "It interests me, I must say."

Draco stared at her. "That's it? You're not going to laugh?"

"Why would I laugh?" Hermione asked, genuinely confused.

"Because a member of the Malfoy family wanting to be an Auror is like Dumbledore begging to be You-Know-Who's best friend."

"Well, yeah, I suppose it's a little bit odd, but-"

"Odd? Hermione, my father would kill me if he found out," Draco interrupted. There was an awkward silence, broken only when he asked. "So go on, what do you want to do when you leave?"

"I'd definitely like to take a look down the Auror route," Hermione answered thoughtfully. "Or maybe go travelling for awhile. Who knows? I want to see how the thing with You-Know-Who plays out."

"I like how you downplayed something which could lead to all our deaths," Draco chuckled mirthlessly.

"I'm an optimist."

Draco stared at her incredulously. "No you're not!"

"I can be!" Hermione replied indignantly.

The argument that followed had them both at opposite ends of the room, sulking and refusing to make eye contact for twenty minutes.

He's like a child, Hermione thought, staring stubbornly at the fireplace. Worse than Ron.

Draco meanwhile was thinking a little more practically. How are we supposed to work if we argue over the littlest things? It could just be because we've been in the same room as each other for too long, both hungry, both needing to change clothes.

"I'm sorry," he called over to her insincerely after another minute of mulling things over.

"You don't sound like you're sorry," she sniped back.

"Accept it, because it's the only apology you're getting from me," Draco shot back. "This is stupid anyway, we just need to get out of here."

"Then what?"

"Well, then we get something to eat and-"

"No, I mean…with us." She sighed heavily. "I don't want to be sneaking off to this room every so often just so we can be together. We're either all in or all out."

With Hermione's words still ringing in his mind two hours later, Draco barely touched his lunch. The students chattered around him, making too much noise for his liking after being stuck in a quiet room for the last few hours. Maybe 'stuck' wasn't the right word; it implied he hadn't enjoyed being there. And he had, for the most part. The goodbye kiss he and Hermione shared in particular had been a highlight. He had initiated it, of course, telling her afterwards that now she couldn't cite possession as an excuse for kissing him. She just laughed and opened the door, walking away without a word. They hadn't come to a conclusion over what to do, but Draco knew without asking that Hermione wanted him to fight for her. Wasn't that what all girls wanted? He guessed that the reason she and Weasley hadn't worked out was because he was too much of a coward to say anything to her. Too late now, he thought smugly to himself.

"Where were you this morning?" Blaise asked Draco from his place across the table.

"Out," Draco answered shortly. Now, he knew, wasn't the time to come clean. Hermione would be furious with him and, for reasons unknown, he didn't want to upset her. Usually it was funny to see her annoyed, but he wouldn't hurt her that badly anymore.

"Out where? I don't remember you coming back last night," Pansy pouted, joining in the interrogation.

"You waited up for me?" Draco asked sarcastically.

"I was doing homework and I noticed you weren't back by the time I went to bed," Pansy snapped back. "Don't think so highly of yourself."

"She didn't get to bed until late," Blaise told him dryly. "Hence the mood."

Pansy shot him a dark look. "You know what, Blaise? If you've got such a problem with me then maybe you shouldn't-"

"Maybe I shouldn't what?" Blaise interrupted dangerously, glaring at her.

"Forget it," Pansy muttered, scooping up her bag and leaving the hall in a huff.

Blaise watched her go angrily. He turned to Draco once she'd left and scowled.

"She's such a bitch in the morning," he complained. When Draco stared at him, his frown deepened. "What?"

"You seem a little…" he searched for the right word. "Tense."

"Do I?" Blaise asked, not even noticing that his fist was clenching. "I don't know why."

I do, Draco answered silently but remained silent rather than risk Blaise's wrath. He needed him on his side so that when everyone found out about Draco and Hermione, they'd have a least one supporter. Well, maybe supporter was too strong a word…time would tell.

"Maybe you're just tired. Anyway," Draco said, quickly moving onto another topic. "Did we…uh, have any potions homework?"

Dear sweet Merlin, he was beginning to sound like Hermione. Blaise shot him a funny look.

"What do you care? Snape won't do anything about it if you haven't."

"Just wondering," Draco shrugged, silently cursing himself. "What are your plans for today?"

"I should get packing, Christmas holidays are coming up and you know how long it takes me to find half my stuff."

"That's because its strewn all over the castle," Draco answered, only half-joking. It really was quite remarkable how one boy's possessions could end up in so many different places.

"This is true," Blaise acknowledged with a nod. "Although I might need to pack a few extra weapons for my first meeting with…" he trailed off, biting his lip and furrowing his brow as he tried to remember.

"Rupert?" Draco suggested, raising his eyebrows.

"That's the one," Blaise nodded. "I lose track, to be honest. Mother's boyfriends don't last long anyway. What are you doing?"

"Undoubtedly attending dinner at every single pureblood's house in England," Draco answered dispassionately. "We do it every year."

"Don't worry, Mother will be parading-"

"Rupert," Draco supplied without having to be asked.

"Rupert about society, so I'll probably see you at all those dinners and more," Blaise continued as if there had been no interruption.

"Ever thought about dating someone who wasn't in our social circles?" Draco asked, figuring it best to drop a few hints before the bombshell.

Blaise frowned. "Random question. Why, who do you like?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

Draco tried determinedly not to glance over at the Gryffindor table where he knew Hermione was sitting with her friends.

"It's Moaning Myrtle, okay?" Draco settled for answering.

"We've discussed this, I'm in love with her already, she's off the list," Blaise answered. "Who is it really?" When Draco didn't answer, he leant in suspiciously, ensuring that those around them were involved in their own conversations. "Not that I listen to gossip, but there's been talk. You've been spending a lot of time with…well, I won't say her name out loud, but with someone you shouldn't be spending a lot of time with."

"Who's been talking?" Draco demanded.

"The girls in Gryffindor," Blaise answered, watching Draco carefully. "Pansy overheard them in the bathroom yesterday."

"And you were the first person she told?" Draco asked smugly.

"That…that doesn't matter. The point is if you're going out with someone like her then-"

"What's the worst that could happen? I endure a few stares, nudges behind my back, whispers? Maybe she's worth it," Draco said defensively, although if he was defending himself or Hermione he wasn't sure.

"Try your family disowning you and You-Know-Who knowing exactly who to target when you get on his bad side," Blaise answered. "She's in enough danger as it is because of who her friends are, she doesn't need you."

"Maybe I need her."

"Draco, think realistically!" Blaise snapped while still keeping his voice down. "These aren't the times to be mingling with someone outside of your blood status, especially when you're a pureblood and she's not."

"What does blood matter?" Draco asked furiously. "It's all the same once-"

"It's been spilled?" Blaise suggested quietly.

Draco didn't answer.

"Her friends will go crazy when they find out," Blaise warned. "Actually insane."

"I think they sort of know," Draco replied glumly. "They've already warned me off her."

"At least they've got some sense in them."

"Will you tell anyone?"

Blaise looked at his friend, deliberating. "No," he said finally. "As long as you keep your mouth shut about Pansy."

"What about Pansy?" Draco asked innocently. "Last I heard, she still fancies me."

"Yeah, because that's really a rumour I want to perpetuate," Blaise sighed. "She's got better taste than that, mate."

Draco smiled, slightly less uneasy now that one person knew and the universe hadn't exploded.

"So, mind telling me what you were really doing last night?" Blaise asked, quirking one eyebrow up. "Or is it something I don't want to know?"

Draco toyed with the idea of telling Blaise he and Hermione had slept together (it was technically true!) but decided not to be so cruel.

"You don't want to know," he replied instead. "But not because of the reasons you're thinking of. It's just too weird to explain."

"So you expect us to believe you got yourself trapped in a secret room whilst possessed?" Ron asked in disbelief.

"Yes," Hermione answered weakly.

"And you were alone?"

"Yes."

"It just seems odd that Zella would choose to manifest herself at such a unusual time," Harry commented. "When there was no one else around and when she'd never been able to do it before."

"Yeah, odd," Hermione said with a nervous chuckle.

"And Zella's just, poof, gone?" Ron checked.

"Not so much 'poof' but, yes, she's gone."

"Even though she'd have to talk to Trayton to be able to move on?" Harry asked sceptically.

"We didn't know that for sure," Hermione reminded him hastily.

"Hermione, we know when you're lying to us," Ron told her, waving his fork - complete with dripping egg - in her direction.

"I don't do it very often, so you must know that I'm only doing it to protect you," Hermione told them.

"Aha!" Ron shouted, drawing curious looks from those around him. "So you admit you were lying!"

"Ron, keep your voice down," Hermione begged. "It's not what you think."

"I think you think it's exactly what we think," Ron challenged.

"What?" Harry and Hermione asked, identical looks of confusion.

"You spent the night with Malfoy," Ron translated.

"No!" Hermione answered, outraged. "Well, yes. But not in that way!"

Harry and Ron shot her disgusted looks.

"We were trapped in there!" Hermione told them, desperation to prove herself leading to mild hysterics. "Trayton tricked me, and I fell for it. But it turned out to be for the best because now they're gone. Stop looking at me like that!"

"You went to a secret room in the middle of the night alone because you thought Malfoy invited you there," Harry summarized angrily.

"In my defence, I didn't know it was a secret room," Hermione answered. "But apart from that, yes."

"Do you like him?" Ron asked, oddly calm.

"I…yes."

Ron nodded, maintaining his peaceful air, which surely meant that he would kill someone in the next five minutes. Harry looked betrayed.

"If it's any consolation, we're not serious."

It wasn't a lie; they weren't talking about marriage and children after all.

"Were you ever going to tell us?" Harry asked, glaring down at his plate.

"I just did," Hermione shrugged helplessly. "Draco-"

"Draco," Ron repeated under his breath derisively, his facade cracking.

"-wants you to be okay with this, because he knows how much your approval means to me," Hermione continued, imploring her friends with her sad eyes.

"Can he travel back in time and erase all the stuff he's done and said to us?" Harry asked. "Otherwise, there's not a chance in hell." He paused, considering his words before hastily adding, "Although if he can actually travel back in time, there's still no chance."

"He's changed, and he'll prove it to you," Hermione promised confidently.

A/N:

Hello all, hope you enjoyed the chapter. For those confused about Trayton and Zella, there'll be a mini explanation next chapter (:

Thank you very much for all the reviews, you guys are awesomesauce!

Have a great week,

- Momo