I don't own Harry Potter, apparently. Who knew?

AN: More touching scenes with a hint of drama. There will be a little filler after this and then more drama. :)

Hermione had been having a good time at the party. Had been.

Now, she was sitting in a corner after hurling and looking extremely green around the edges. Ginny was on one side of her and Ron on the other. Harry stood on the other side of Ginny, two punch glasses in hand and assuring Ginny every few seconds that he didn't really want to dance anyway; while Ron alternately sent Harry glares for his blatant overtures to his sister and kindly, concerned looks at herself; the whole while rubbing his hand along her back in gentle circles. Ginny just looked a fine combination of worried and wistful.

Hermione finally decided she'd had enough. The twins' party was still in full swing and there were several hours to midnight. There was no reason her friends should sit around and watch her mope and be sick when she could just go to the Burrow early. Molly and Arthur would both be there- and she wouldn't even disturb their own plans, because she'd go straight up to bed…

"Look, you should all just go have fun," she said and the three of them immediately jumped to assure that no, they were already having a perfectly lovely time. Hermione tried to glare at them and realized her face wasn't working properly.

"You're looking awfully pale, Hermione," Ginny said.

Hermione thought her vision might be blurring.

"You know, I bet anything it was that bloody Malfoy," she heard Ron say. "Probably slipped you something."

But when she turned to argue with him she realized there wasn't any sound coming out of his mouth. Or was it just the buzzing in her ears that was blocking the noise?

"Ron, that was days ago- she's been at home this whole time, not to mention that women who are pregnant do tend to vomit" Ginny argued for her, but the words sounded as if they'd swum through an ocean of cotton to reach her brain. Hermione gulped in some air.

"I don't- I don't feel-" she began. It was as far as she got.

One of the twins came over to the group, took one look at Hermione's ashen face and drunken behavior and immediately pushed her head down between her knees. Then he yelled at Ron for not taking Hermione home sooner. Then his brother joined him and yelled at Harry for making eyes at his baby sister (while winking at him at the same time).

So in a matter of minutes Fred had managed to shuffle Hermione off to the floo with Ron and George shooed Ginny and Harry off to dance. Shortly after Ron arrived at the Burrow with a fainting Hermione in his arms, Molly shooed him back to the party. And so Hermione ended up where she'd wanted to be, anyway. Asleep, in bed, after up-heaving the rest of her dinner.

Of course, that didn't mean Ron actually left her alone, oh, no. In fact, the next day and the one after that he found all sorts of excuses to come into her room, sit on her bed, take her hand, tell her all about his incredibly boring day of reading about Quidditch and talking about how much he hated Malfoy with Harry. Occasionally he asked her how she felt. Well, that wasn't quite fair of her. He asked her several times how she was doing and if he could get her anything, but the third time she snapped at him he finally got the picture.

After he'd left for what she hoped was the last time, Ginny took his place.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?" Hermione grumbled.

"For not getting Ron out of here sooner. But Merlin, he seriously is acting like he thinks- well, anyway. Now, you promised me all the juicy details. Spill!"

"First you tell me what happened after I left."

"You mean at the party?" Ginny preened. "Oh, nothing." Then she leaned forward quickly and whispered. "Just that Harry kissed me- mmm!"

"Ginny!" Hermione shrieked and the two laughed and gossiped for several minutes before Ginny returned to her original line of questioning.

"And you and Draco? What is going on?"

Hermione stopped to think. She leaned back against the pillows, rubbed the ring upon her hand, and flipped through all the lovely memories she had of him, now. He wasn't the same snotty boy she'd known and sparred with in the past. He'd changed. He was capable of change. That in itself was important. But most of all…she shook her head. Best not to let fancy take off with her. Finally, after a long moment, she spoke.

"Honestly, Ginny?" she began. "It was like a dream."

Ginny looked at her thoughtfully. "I think I can understand that."

Hermione smiled. "It wasn't even that his house is the last place I ever expected to be…or to be there with him and his mother's blessing. It's more like…he was so sweet. He talked about enjoying each moment; and you know, I think that's something we all try to do. He was just so normal- not that this situation is-"

"I know what you mean."

"Do you?" Hermione looked at her friend searchingly. "That every second it was like we were a breath away from either losing it all or from becoming the people we're meant to be?"

Ginny smiled sadly. "I feel like that with Harry," she said. "Like we'll either be together forever and that's who we'll be, or we'll be torn apart by some awful thing. Yeah, I know what you mean. Like when you're so close to having something you've wanted for so long…"

"And so you worry that it will all end. Yes, that," Hermione finished. "That's exactly it. It was like a long, lovely dream. But I'm worried about school. Once we get back…everything will start to happen again. And what will happen to us because of it?"

"But you can't let yourself think that way, Hermione. If I worried about Harry, really let myself worry, it would drive me mad. You see?"

"Yeah, I can see that," Hermione agreed. She smiled wearily, leaned back again. "I'm so glad you're here, Ginny."

"Don't you mean you're so glad you're here?"

Hermione laughed some and shook her head. "No, I mean, that it's you sitting here right now. Like I could seriously talk about any of this with Ron. He'd just get-" she stopped short and Ginny snorted.

"Jealous? Yeah, he would. I could kill him for doing this to you."

"No, Gin-"

"It's not right, Hermione. He signed away his rights. He chose his stupid, snogging banshee over you and his own-"

"Shh!" Hermione sat up and clapped a hand over Ginny's mouth. For good measure she quickly cast a few extra security spells and then leaned away again. "Sorry, Ginny."

"No, that's ok," Ginny replied. "I think I did forget to add those this time. Listen, we shouldn't be talking about him anyway. Go on, tell me more about Malfoy. Like did he give you that beauty, for instance?" she said, taking Hermione's hand in hers.

Hermione blushed. "Yeah," she said. "He did. It's just…a token, for now."

"For now? Hermione Granger! What is going on with you two?"

"I told you, Ginny, it was so lovely there, once we got ourselves sorted out. Everything was so out of the ordinary, so romantic-" she caught herself and flushed even more. Ginny squealed with excitement.

"I'm so happy for you, Hermione!"

She gave the other witch a huge hug and Hermione, after a second's stiffness, finally relaxed and shared her friend's enthusiasm. After all, the wizard to be who'd given her the ring was far from the man she'd originally imagined in all her most intimate daydreams and hopes; but he wasn't any worse of a man, certainly. He'd proven that once already, and Hermione had the very good feeling that, whatever new horrors awaited the students of Hogwarts, he would continue to prove himself.

She couldn't quite quell the worry in her heart for all that; but safe at the Burrow, surrounded by her dearest friends, she allowed herself to finally relax; and, for the first time, truly wish against all hope. Even a know-it-all bookworm has dreams, after all.

Back at the manor, Draco was finally tired of the looks his mother kept giving him and he turned to her, snapping his book shut.

"What?" he asked pointedly and Narcissa eyed him.

"I don't like that tone of voice, Draco," she replied and then turned back to her magazine.

Draco sighed noisily and flung his book on the couch beside him. "You clearly want to talk to me about something. I wish you'd just go on and ask me instead of-"

"Fine," Narcissa said, her voice cool. "I will. That ring you gave Hermione."

Draco was instantly on his guard. "What of it?"

Narcissa smiled…if he could call it that. He swallowed and suddenly wished he was holding his book again.

"I know you were hoping to slip that past me, young man. But it was impossible when she was glancing at it every other second. Don't think her parents won't notice it, either."

Narcissa looked smug and Draco suddenly felt like heaving all that lovely Yorkshire pudding he'd had at dinner into the nearest receptacle. Shit. Fuck, shit, fuck. Bloody hell. Her parents. Merlin's balls. Why the hell didn't he consider that in the equation? Her father was sure to want to kill him now.

Narcissa smiled softly at the expression on his face and leaned forward. "I'm sure it's not as bad as all that, darling," she murmured. "But surely you thought about all this?"

"Actually," he began, mouth dry, "I didn't. Her father hates me."

"Of course he does," his mother responded. "You got his baby girl pregnant out of wedlock. Most fathers feel that way about the tossers responsible for such behavior."

Draco frowned. "Mum!"

"It's true, Draco. Now calm down and tell me what the meaning of the gift is. Are you in love with her? Have you asked her to marry you?"

"No, I-" He stopped short and stared at her. "Wait, you sounded almost…"

"Calm? Serene? Even pleased, perhaps?"

Draco gaped. "Well- yeah. Yes. Mum?"

"I like her. She's sweet and good natured. She's very intelligent and ambitious, she was raised well. And even if she is muggleborn, her parents are not poor, by any means. She comes from good stock and she's pleasant to me. She even learned to play whist, poor dear. Never mind that she's the mother of your child."

If only you knew, Draco thought. Aloud, he said, "So you approve. If I did one day ask her to marry me. Not that I'm saying I have already."

"You have my blessing, darling boy," Narcissa said, smiling at him and he felt all the air leave him. He had a brief moment of euphoria, where he saw himself and Hermione, going to uni or into apprenticeships after Hogwarts, getting engaged and then married, settling down somewhere with two children, one with pale blond locks and the other with flaming red hair…

And then reality came crashing back. There was a war coming, he was expected to let Death Eaters in the school or his family would perish, and Dumbledore was going to be murdered. By Snape. And, oh, yeah. He had to make sure Hermione delivered some other bloke's baby safely. Not that he even cared it was some other bloke's baby anymore. With an effort he drew himself back from the edge of that insanity and focused on his mother.

"But we're not talking about five or even ten years in the future, darling," Narcissa was saying. "We're talking about now and that lovely present you gave your girlfriend just a few days ago."

"She liked it," he murmured.

"I know she liked it, Draco," Narcissa sighed, exasperated. "I want to know why you gave it to her."

"Because I knew she would like it," he muttered, gaining back some ground. Narcissa glared at him.

"Young man, just because you're as tall as I am and have a wand does not mean you may back talk me that way-"

"Alright, alright," Draco hastened. "I apologize. I gave it to her because…everything will change, soon. Once we get back to school I have to be myself again, the me that everyone already knows. And she'll have to be with her friends, even when we're spending time together. Our time will be divided and things are going to get dangerous and I just wanted her to know…to have something to remind her that I care about her," he finished in a small voice. "That even if everything goes wrong, how I feel won't change."

Draco looked down at his hands, clenched into fists, and wondered what his mother thought. Did she think it was stupid? Would she chastise him that they were just teenagers, that he couldn't possibly promise his feelings wouldn't change? That there was too much at stake for such things?

When Narcissa didn't respond for a very long moment and Draco finally glanced up at her. She was staring pensively at the fire and there were tears in her eyes. After several minutes she finally gave a shuddering sigh and daubed at her eyes.

"Oh, Draco," she whispered. "My boy. Come here." She gestured to him and he hesitantly got up and moved over to sit beside her. She wrapped her arms about his shoulders and held him tightly.

"I am so proud of you, my darling son," she murmured against his brow. "Whatever happens this term…I love you and am so very, very proud."

Draco was grateful for the dim light and their close embrace. It meant his mother couldn't see the tears that suddenly sprang to his own eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut against them and hugged her tighter. He would not fail her, or Hermione. He would continue to make them both proud, or he knew he would die trying.

And no amount of Death Eaters, or Dark Lords, would stand in his way.

AN: Oh, god, it's just my allergies making me tear up, I swear. *wanders away, muttering*