I used to sleep without a single stir,
'Cause I was about my father's work.

Well take me out tonight,
This ship of fools I'm on will sink.
A milestone around my neck,
Be my breath, there's nothing I wouldn't give.

- Millstone, Brand New

Intense coursing pain runs through my head and lurching sick is gurgling in my belly, but the only concern I have right this second is…did I do anything stupid last night?

And as I slowly become alert in my morning daze, noticing my clothes on the floor, Crookshanks purring next to my head and realizing I'm bare chested with only panties on…I concur that yes, yes I did.

Damn it.

I try to sit up so I can retrieve my bathrobe hanging on my closet door but I'm overwhelmingly overcome with nausea so I fall back onto my pillows, giving up. I glance at my alarm; it's only 11 o'clock. Thank Merlin, we still have hours before Mum and Dad said they'd be home. I have time to deal with a potential mess, whatever this is.

I don't think I did anything too bad, definitely not sex, though I'm horrified still at anything else I could've done….I close my eyes to try and remember it all. The last thing I recall is playing a drinking game.
Yes, we did that at George's for a while…we then came home.

I drank three Albus Dumbledore's. No, four. I recollect making a stupid comment about it.

'It's not my fault Dumbledore tastes so good.'

Oh, GOD.

I groan, cursing myself silently for being an idiot and consuming too much alcohol much too fast.

"Oh, sweetheart, what did I do?" I ask my cat as he nudges me with his nose.

Petting Crookshanks is somewhere in my memory bank, actually….and peacocks for some reason.

No, wait, there were things before the peacocks. My foggy mind is slowly clearing -

Intense snogging. Taking off my tights and dress. Taking off his shirt. Sucking supple skin. Telling him that I was horny. Dragging his hands to caress my breasts.
And he was the one who protested.
I was the one who wanted it.

I look down at myself and realize that Draco put me to bed, my covers are on me properly and he's not lying next to me. Where is he?

I try to get up, tentatively this time around, and spot him on my loveseat on the other side of my room. His legs are sprawled over the end and his head's leaning against my desk, fast asleep. It's really adorable.

I sigh, unsure of what to do. Because I can't get up and I need his assistance, but I feel bad waking him. I mean , it's too late now, he can't unsee my breasts, so I don't care if he helps me walk or get a shirt. I just want this pain to go away. I'm guessing he knows how to deal with a hangover besides sleeping it off. I'm not that tired at all, just queasy.

The last time I drank more than a glass was at the celebration party for Harry a month after the end of the war. I remember Ron and I were having a good time, felt myself able to be careless finally for once, and just 2 flutes of champagne had me quite tipsy. But I was fine the next day and I certainly didn't grind on anyone….

I really hope I wasn't too sloppy.

Whatever, that is not the task at hand I need to worry about. What I need is a giant glass of water. Ginny was saying last night that I had to stay hydrated to avoid sickness in the morning but Draco and I didn't even finish ours before we started making out.
Hormones.

A wave of nausea suddenly hits me and I know I need to take action soon.

"Draco," I croak, the sound of my voice definitely not loud enough.

I clear my throat and try again; "Draco!"

He twitches slightly, but all he does is loll his head onto his shoulder instead of against the desk. I try one more time, this time pushing myself up so my voice can get better coverage: "Draco, please wake up!"

Nothing.

All well…I need water. I use all my might to push myself out of bed, and stand on my feet, feeling woozy immediately.
I'm about to grab a shirt from my wardrobe when I'm completely overcome with dry heaves, my stomach sloshing so hard that I feel like I can't stand up straight.

I'm going to vomit. I'm going to vomit.

"Oh no."

I run to the bathroom that's a part of my room and fling the lid of the toilet open. I fall to my knees, clutch the toilet and feel my insides erupt, the contents of the night before leaving me. I must have heaved about three times now, but every time I think I'm done I smell the bile and it triggers another go. Lord, this is disgusting.

I finally spit out the last of it and flush, still hanging on because I feel so awful I can't stand up.

Suddenly I feel hands on my bare shoulders causing me to massively flinch and knock Draco's chin with my head. Ouch.

"Ah!"

I look back to see him standing up and rubbing his jaw, inexplicably smiling at me. I notice he has a few hickeys on his neck and grimace. "You alright, Granger?"

I turn myself around and cross my legs on the cold floor, leaning against the toilet, wrapping my hands around my bare breasts. "No. I feel horrible, actually. I'm sorry for waking you up and um, hitting you in the face."

"It's not a problem," he says gently, shutting the door so he has more space in the limited confines of the room. "Can I get you something?"

"I was going to ask for water, actually. But can you pass me my robe hanging behind you." He spins around and passes it to me so I can cover myself with 'dignity'.

"Do you feel as knackered as I do?" I ask when I'm fully covered.

He chuckles and sits down against the door. "No, not really. I do feel a bit out of it, but my head isn't pounding and I don't feel the need to vomit," he winks.

"Thanks for reminding me," I laugh. "Were we really stupid last night when we came home? Was I?"

He tilts his head and smirks again.
"What's so hilarious to you, mister? You keep grinning at me." I say, getting a bit embarrassed at his reaction to me, especially since I'm practically naked.

"How far back do you not remember anything?"

"I remember trying to seduce you and taking off your shirt. And peacocks. Why do I remember peacocks?" He snickers and shakes his head. "What!"

"We were a little stupid, Hermione," he replies, looking at me in the eyes. "You said you were horny and I tried to resist, but I couldn't really, given what you look like. I made sure you wanted to make out, then you took off your dress and tights and came at me, giving me about 20 hickeys, I'd say. Luckily you became too dizzy after about 10-15 minutes and fell back wherein you asked me what my patronus is; a peacock, and then fell asleep. I didn't want you to freak out in the morning, so I moved to your loveseat."

"I did not give you twenty hickeys!" I exclaim, smacking his arm.
And a peacock?

"Yes, you did." He pulls his shirt up to reveal little red and purple marks. I groan. "Don't fret, it's fine. Also, I know you're thinking about the peacock because you're smirking, but you promised me last night that you wouldn't tell anyone, so shhh," he puts a finger to his lips.

I beam. "Don't worry, your dirty secret is safe with me. Now, seeing as I'm in the bathroom already I kind of want a bath, you think that will help?"

"Yes, a shower usually makes me feel a bit better. How about you do that and I'll try to figure out how to make coffee? Coffee is great for hangovers."

"That's sweet. The coffee maker is on the counter and the coffee grounds are in the purple clay jar."

"Okay. Sugar or milk?"

"A bit of sugar and a splash of milk," I smile. "Thanks."

"No, thank you. Though you don't remember much, last night was awesome." He leans in and kisses me, then gets up and goes downstairs. "Nice tits by the way."

I shake my head and get up to draw the bath, pouring some bubbles in it. I go out to grab a book from my shelf, choosing Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them. When the tub is full I pour myself some water into a glass by the sink and settle in. The nice hot water feels amazing on my skin and as I push my whole head under I am overwhelmed by calm.

As I resurface I just relax and lie back, wiping my hands on a towel and taking the book to find the last chapter I was on.

…

"Draco are you down here?"
It's been about 45 minutes and I feel completely refreshed. I've gotten myself dressed and I'm walking downstairs to see Draco sitting on the couch with no coffee, drinking tea.

"Yeah, I tried and failed. Sorry." I get down into the kitchen and see the coffee maker in the sink, grounds still sprinkled on the counter that reeks of burning beans. "I made you chamomile though. And toast!"

I chuckle to myself and grab some aspirin from the cabinet. Then I walk over and plop myself down next to him and rub his arm. "You'd make a horrible housewife."

He frowns. "I know. I'm sorry. I tried to do it but I ended up burning it three times and then I didn't know how to properly wash cause I didn't want to break it and –"

"It's fine, it's fine. I can't blame you for your terribly un-self-reliant upbringing. But we really need to teach you how to do everyday things, muggle or not." I pick up a mug of tea, still nice and warm, and swallow the pills.

He leans into me. "I know. Trust me when I say I feel like an inadequate boyfriend after what? A week. And you're tremendous for coming with me tomorrow, that is if you still want to."

I grab his free hand and rub the skin around his knuckles. "I don't want to, but you need moral support. It's not like I'm going with you to see him in the flesh, I'll just be going with you and waiting when you come back."

"Like that still isn't worth something," he rolls his eyes and wraps an arm around me. "I should probably go soon, yeah?"

"Mm, my parents said they'd be home around 4:30, so in a bit. I don't know if I'm up to school work, I doubt you will be after tomorrow. Maybe I'll just work on questions tonight?"

"Okay, well I'll practice my arse off, and we can always do work at school, we'll still have 3 weeks," he says, trying to muster up some cheer.

"It'll just be more difficult to organize time," I murmur, "But yes, definitely."

"Alright. Sounds like a plan."

We both sigh and I slowly lie down on the sofa, my head still dizzy, and he follows suit. He ends up spooning me and we rest together, peacefully.

The next day

"Will you be alright darling?" mother whispers to me as I get my coat on next to the fireplace in the hallway.

"Yes," I say firmly, though inside I'm not so positive.
She spent all of last night fretting about me going and insisting that I don't. I can't say I blame her given what happened a few months ago but I need to make sure father's alright. As much as I loathe the person he is, I know deep down he has feelings. Just no pleasant way of displaying them.

"Look, I don't want to be late. I have to go to Hermione's now so we make sure to get there within the time limit." You get a scheduled 5 minutes to enter by Floo or else the barrier closes and you must make another 'appointment'. You can't Apparate in a designated spot, brooms and any other mode of air transport is also not allowed. Kind of makes you curious about what happened in order for them to be so strict about visiting.

"Oh, alright. I'm sorry I can't go with you. I will soon, it's just –"

"I know. You're not ready," I say, looking at her anguished face with reassuring eyes. "I know."

She tries to give me a shaky smile. "Thank you, love. Tell Hermione that I also thank her greatly. And I mean really, Draco."

"Will do." I grin at her quite fakely, but convincingly, before I grab a handful of powder. "I'll be fine, don't worry." She looks at me like she has something to say, perhaps a good luck, but she closes her lips and simply watches on.

"Hermione Granger's House, 22 Parkhill Drive, Camden."

I disappear into the darkness, falling down through the tunnels for a moment until I pop up in Granger's home. As I steady my balance she's right in front of me.

"Hi." Her voice is small, stressed.

Her parents nowhere to be seen from what I can gather, praise Allah.

"Hey."

She looks extremely fidgety, as I imagine I would be in her spot, and is wearing all black like we're going to a funeral. I didn't realize how tense I was until now, but seeing her nervous only elevates the knots in my stomach and the ongoing battle in my skull.

Hermione coming with me will help my sanity a little bit, but she can't change what my father may or may not say. I just feel awful she has to visit this fucking place, it's bad enough she saw how horrific it is in my own damn mind.

"It's 10:58," she says to me, gauging my reaction. Two minutes. I reach out my hand and pull her into the fireplace with me.

"So how was your night?" I ask, attempting to distract her from thinking about where she's about to go. "Did your parents get in okay?"

She nods. "Yes, yes they had a good time. I just read mostly, finished more questions," she titters anxiously. "They're having lunch, in case you were wondering. I told them we had to, you know, 'do something for the project,' and that we were going out."

She swallows hard, pauses for a moment and her tone is up one octave. "I hope you don't mind, but I also said your parents were separating and that you were in a fragile state, wanting to talk about it alone. Which prompted Mum to get Dad to leave us be today. I didn't lie about anything, Mum thought I was hinting they leave by using our project as an excuse. It's good though, I think they wouldn't fancy me going to a prison," she laughs a bit hysterically.

"Oh." Merlin, now everyone knows about it, ugh. "No, no that's ok. It's not like it's a secret anymore. Good thinking." I take a deep breath, settling my insides.

But I can't hold my hesitancy in. I turn frantically towards Hermione and splutter pathetically. "You know, there's still time to back out; you don't have to do this. I appreciate the gesture but –"

"But nothing, Draco," she says firmly, startling me, making me straighten up. "I said I'd go, and I will. I'm nervous but I can handle it."

"Okay," I say quietly, giving in. She grabs my palm, eyebrows knitted, probably now worried at my unusual submissiveness. "11 yet?"

"11:01," she affirms. We both glance at each other for a moment before reaching for the floo.

"Ready?" I ask. She murmurs a 'mhm'. "On 3; 1, 2 3 – Azkaban Prison."

We say it loudly in unison, and my heart drops to my stomach as I clutch her hand, travel for what feels like a while until we land in a hearth, and get magically pushed onto a rug. Two guards rush up immediately.

"Names," a huge, muscular man asks us. His grey robe is emblazoned with the scarlet 'A', wand at the ready, club on his belt.

"Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger," I state.

"Wands," a fatter guard next to Hermione commands lazily, just another routine to him.

I take mine from my pocket as does my lady and we give them to him to hold. She's looking around silently dismayed at the claustrophobic area we've found ourselves in, and I thank god she only has to see the next room over.

"Telum declarium," the first guard incants over us, presumably to check for concealed weapons, causing Hermione to jump. Purple sparks cascade over us but nothing happens.

"All clear. Go ahead to the clerk at the desk at the entrance to the cells." The huge man ushers us out and the fatter one smiles at us while putting our wands in a cabinet.

Hermione looks at me for guidance so I grab her arm and guide her around the corner to the main chamber, a cold stone-walled and cobbled floor room with steel chairs for patrons to wait in. Wanted posters fill any space they can on a bulletin board next to the vaulted doorway that leads into the jails. A man seated behind an archway of thick bars is reading paperwork, underneath a crooked sign that reads: Visitors.

"Well this looks…inviting." I let escape a small snicker from my lips at Hermione's apprehension, and she gives me a wobbly laugh.

"Don't worry, you only have to stay here for a few minutes, promise. They only let in a few visitors at a time so no awkward conversations or looks," I whisper.

"I guess I'll just…sit down?"

"Yeah. I won't be long." She gives me a comforting grin and goes to sit down, but I grab her shoulder and spin her to me. "Hermione. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replies, looking at me sadly.

"My mother told me to relay her thank you too."

"Oh," she shrugs awkwardly. "Tell her you're welcome?"

"Look, she meant it. Seriously," I emphasize when she becomes skeptical. "And I mean it. I just. You're being a friend right now, a real one. Not a girlfriend, not somebody 'obligated' to go. Somebody kind and caring. Nobody has been there for me like you have, and even if they were and had a shitty way of showing it, I wasn't ready to open up. So thank you."

She looks flattered, unable to respond, so I lean in and kiss her softly.

"I'll see you soon."

I turn away from her and gather my wits as I go to the counter. The clerk looks up from his paperwork and sighs.

"Draco Malfoy here to see Lucius Malfoy in cell 315 at 11 am?" he asks, checking his clipboard.

"Er – Yes."

"Go on in." He flicks a switch up on his desk and a buzz sounds. I've been through this before, but the loud crank of the door unlocking always scares me. The entire slab falls down quickly like a guillotine and I walk over the line into the jails to the guard waiting to escort me.

I glance one last look at Hermione before the door shoots up into the ceiling again. She gives me a small wave and I a weak smile.

"Alright let's go," the guard says, a younger man, and begins to walk down the harrowed hallways.

After a few minutes of silence and disorderly jeers at me, the visitor, the guard pipes up.

"Was that Hermione Granger?" he asks me, quite inappropriately seeing as we're passing cells of sleeping inmates and tired souls.

"Yes," I answer curtly.

"And you're Malfoy's kid, uh?" I repeat an affirmative. "So you and she a thing now?"

I say nothing.
"She's way out of your league, you know."

I ball my fists but continue ignoring him.

"I saw it in the paper, you don't have to be so quiet. Come on, I'm trying to ease you up."

"Look, I just want to see my father, I don't want to be interrogated about my love life speculation from last week."

"Not just last week. You were in the Prophet last night son, didn't you know that?"
I groan. Lovely.

Tension builds up inside of me even more dangerously than it already was. More bullshit to deal with now.

"No, I didn't." Mother must've been too busy to bother reading it and I was too hungover.

"Oh. Well it was pretty bad."

I roll my eyes, knowing he's waiting for me to ask why.

"Why? Why was it so bad?" I ask as we round the last corner into the more private and 'expensive' cells.

"Said that Hermione was cheating on you with Harry Potter, you two were fighting at the bar. Said that you did shots with Ginny Weasley to retaliate."

What!?

"Well that's a load of garbage," I mutter.

He chuckles as he leads me to my father, even more edgy and strained than when I got here, hoping to Merlin that Lucius does not request the paper.

"Don't worry, that Imelda Ipswitch is a junior reporter to Rita Skeeter. She's just as overzealous and ridiculous as her. Lots of people probably don't believe her. Probably."

Yeah, that doesn't help.

"Anyways, here we are, I'll be waiting right here outside." He clears his throat and puts on a more official tone. "I am required by law to warn you that it says on Malfoy's rap sheet he's marked as having a noticeable bad temper, and to be cautious. But you're his son, he probably got that from the security checks or something."

I swallow hard.
Guess that means I'm with security now.

"Yeah, thanks," I bark, as I look into the cell. He's lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling.

My escort unlocks the door and I tidy myself up as I walk in. I decided to wear a suit, for some reason I thought he'd find me more favourable looking like he always wanted me to dress.

"Visitor for you Malfoy!"

Lucius looks at me lazily, unsurprised that I stand before him, and I notice as I get closer he has today's paper on his bedside table. Fuck.

"Hi father," I begin tentatively.

"Hi son," he says, not looking me in the eye.

"I guess they told you I was coming?" I try.

"Yes, they told me."

"So uh, how have you been?" I shuffle my feet, feeling extremely awkward.

He chuckles and sits up. "Awful. The usual, stuck in this cell. How silly of you to ask. How's your mother?"

"Uh." He asked me pleasantly, not sadly or angrily like he should have.

"I guess she finally told you, huh? That she's fucking some French prick? And marrying him no less."

He's grinning wildly, but he looks like how he did last year; completely exhausted with red bags under his eyes. Merlin, he's completely snapped.

"So how is she? Answer me."

"She's…" Completely happy? Much better off? "She's fine."

He laughs mirthlessly.

"Fine. And how are you, Draco – how are you? Because it looks like," he grabs the paper and taps the front. "It looks like you're fraternizing with a lesser blood. I almost laughed myself into a coma when I saw you kissing her. Son, what are you thinking? Hermione Granger? Going to clubs with the Potter crew?"

I'm being a teenager?

"She makes me feel good," I shrug, talking really low.

"Feel good? What are you, a child?"

Yes?

"I think that's a pretty important thing in a relationship…"

"No, what's important is stability. This won't last."

"And how would you know?" I say harshly. My father flickers his head back, surprised I'd have the nerve.

"How would I know? What, that it won't last? Good thinking initially on your part, maybe if it goes well for a little while people will think you aren't so bad….But because Harry Potter hates you and Ronald Weasley and his whole family hates our family. It's not going to work out. Don't you want your future to be good? Don't you want to be praised instead of loathed? You'll end up breaking her heart and everyone will call you a scoundrel, or she'll do the honours and you'll be weak."

What is he even saying? Is he for real?

Anger is boiling up inside of me, all these things that I've never had the courage to muster, things left unsaid. They're rising to the surface.

"No, actually, that isn't what you wouldn't know. But on that note, everything you're saying is complete garbage anyways."

"Garbage? No, no. It's called reality. You're being immature, Draco."

"How am I being immature? What I meant when I yelled was how would you know anything important about relationships?"

"Excuse me?" he asks, sitting up straighter.

"There was a time I know you actually had feelings, but I think that's a time come and gone, never to return."

"What's that supposed to mean? You think at eighteen you have it all figured out?"

"No, of course I don't, but I'm far more along than you ever were! All you've ever told me in life is to do things based on how I'll look to other people. Maybe I don't care about them anymore. Maybe I get to choose who I want to talk to or how I want to dress!" I say pulling at the fabric of my shirt.

"Draco, don't you talk to me –"

"No, YOU just shut up! Just shut the hell up!" I scream, stomping my foot on the ground. "And listen to me! For once."

"Everything alright in there?" the guard yells.

"Quite," my father calls back maliciously, folding his arms. "Go ahead on your childish tirade, then. I'm listening," he says condescendingly, though I can see in his expression he's unnerved.

"Mother told me when you two met you talked only to her for hours at a party, and owled her at school while you were back home. Mother told me that you used to love her like she damn well deserves, but you fucking let it go because you were obsessed about getting in everybody's good books. And as it turns out, you ended up in no one's. And guess what? I don't want to end up like you. Not anymore. I used to think you were the greatest man in the world, but look where we are, and look at what I've been through. What you've been through. Not even once have you given me an apology. One which I need, one that I ought to have. Mother has had to do it for you."

"Draco, if you're upset about the last time you visited t's because I'd received the letter from your mother about divorce papers only a few days before. I was completely out of my wits," he explains like it's an excusable reason, starting to get visibly riled.

"I don't bloody care! Stop making excuses! You told me I was worthless, told me nobody would ever care about me. What kind of a father says that to his son? Huh?"

He doesn't answer me.

"Why do you think mother left you?" I say breathlessly as his lips curl into a snarl. "Look, father, I know I'm no saint but I need somebody who gives a fuck about me besides my mother. Hermione cares, I know she does, and she's forgiven me in a short time not because she's naive like you'd have me believe, but because she's compassionate. She's a good person, unlike you or I. You think I want to be with her so people think I'm nice? No, I know what people say about me, and I am not going out of my way to prove them wrong. I want to be with her because I like her, because she is nice, I couldn't give a fucking shit about what anyone thinks of me anymore frankly, because whatever they think I probably deserve. And I can own up to it. Why can't you?"

"Get the wool away from your sight, Draco, don't be an idiot. You should care what people think and this is puppy love, this is ridiculous."

"I'm not being an idiot! Maybe this is 'puppy love', but I'll never know for sure if I don't give it a chance."

"You're going to get hurt, Draco."

"So what? If I can deal with Voldemort I can deal with a girl," I spit. He flinches. "You don't get it, do you? I'm not mad because you questioned Hermione and I. I'm mad because you won't admit I'm right. I'm mad that you won't say you're sorry. And I'm still livid that you didn't change your stupid mind and became a Death Eater. That you put mother through this, that you put me through it. None of this would be happening right now!"

"Still livid? You think I'm not? I can't change that now, can I?!" he curses through his teeth. "It's too late."

"But it's not!" Fuck, I can feel tears. "Just open up to me. Ask for forgiveness. For once I'd like to come here and have an actual conversation that doesn't involve fighting!"

"Well it's not going to happen now is it, if you keep showing up with a written out speech! We always fight! Why do you even bother?"

"Because I love you!" I shout, and this time I know I've broken through a barrier, I've shocked him still. "Don't you get it? It's not a forced outing, I elect to see you. I wouldn't come here if I didn't care at all about you. I know it must be awful for you for everything you've gone through, but you need to fucking change. Lord knows I've tried, I've tried to be a better person. Mother has t-," I sob, breaking off mid-sentence. "She has too."

"Maybe I can't." I look at him and his eyes are glistening. Lucius Malfoy is holding back tears.

"Well you have to try. Nobody can do it for you." I walk over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He glances at my fingers on him, closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I'll help you."

"I don't want your help. Your my son, it shouldn't be this way."

"Even the best fall down sometimes."

He looks up at me and scrunches his features.

"I need time."

"Well I'll come back. Next break. Okay?"

"Oh yes, you're still going to that awful institution," he sneers.

"Yes. I'll owl you." I reply ignoring him. I look at him and he nods, then turns his back to me, hands over his face.

"Goodbye, Draco," he mumbles after a few moments of silence.

I signal the guard who opens the gate.
"Bye then. I love you," I say gently as I leave.

I wait for a moment but nothing leaves his lips. So I walk uncomfortably with the guard down the hallway, trying not to weep. The guard has tact and stays quiet this time.

"See you next visit," he says uneasily as he lets me through the gate.

"Bye."

I walk on through to Hermione, who's sitting uncomfortably. When she sees me she stands up, seemingly relieved and grabs my arm to walk back to the fire. Happy to leave no doubt.

"How'd it go?" she asks softly as we make it back to the muscle and chub.

"Odd," I say vaguely. "I'll explain in a minute, where'd you want to go now? I was just going to go home, but…"

"You can always come back to my house. If you want, I mean," she clarifies as she feels me hesitating.

"Yeah maybe for a bit. I promised my mother I'd tell her about it straight away but it's only been like 15 minutes, hasn't it?"

"Yes. We can just talk for a bit, my parents probably won't be home until 2 or 3, if it matters."

"Where to?" the friendlier fat guard asks us, handing our wands back.

I nod at Hermione's questioning look.

"22 Parkhill Drive in Camden," Hermione instructs.

"Alright. Get into the fire," he commands, enchanting a metal casing so it flies up and uncovers the inside. "I'll grab the Floo for you."

I pull Hermione in with me.

"Say it together, can you do that? I hope your visit to Azkaban was pleasant," he says monotone, probably a handbook written line. "On 3: 1, 2, 3 –"

We repeat the address and the guard throws in the floo with perfect timing. For the third time today we travel through the network and end up in Hermione's home again.

"Weird."

"What's weird?"

"Your home is more familiar to me, and more comfortable than mine has felt in a long time," I say truthfully.

"Oh…," she pauses, surprised. "Well…Are you okay?"

God, she's looking at me with pity. My eyes must be red.

"Yes, I'm okay. I'm not going to burst into waterworks, I think I've run out of them at this point." I dust off my jacket , then take it off to go seat myself onto Hermione's couch. "Your parents are still gone? Just to be sure?"

She looks around to the door and relays a yes.

"They're not going to bite you, you know," she smiles, coming to sit next to me.

"I know. Just don't want them to see me with dried tears. Also, I guess this is irrelevant right now but- do they – I mean did you tell them…"

"No, not yet. I'm going to owl my mum back at Hogwarts that we're dating. My dad may have a coronary if he found out you slept in my bed and were unsupervised with me."

"Okay," I laugh.

Hermione puts an arm on my thigh. "Now don't change the subject; Why was visiting your father 'odd'?"

"Need to know everything, uh?"

"No, I'm very curious about this though," she blushes, smacking my leg lightly. "That man at the desk noticed me and started asking me these awful questions about our relationship. And then he said he hoped you knew we were both in the paper yesterday for your dad gets it delivered every day."

I chuckle.

"Yes, well the guard escorting me asked me about you too. They must've seen that I was coming today and when they saw you with me, it confirmed some suspicions."

"Ugh," she huffs.

"What did he ask you?"

"God, it was so uncomfortable. He asked me if I was cheating on you with Harry, which is just – how would he come to that conclusion?"

"The paper said you were cheating on me with Potter because we were fighting all night and that I was doing shots with Ginny to make you jealous. Allegedly."

"Ugh!" she frowns. "I can't believe I forgot about the paper. I was just so out of it yesterday."

"It's fine, I was too. My mother didn't either or she would've told me."

"Well hopefully nobody believes that foul woman. She's just as bad as Skeeter."

"Mm." I agree.

"So what happened, spill!" she begs. "If he saw the paper…did he yell? Was he mad at you for dating me?"

"Surprisingly no," I reply, still wondering about that myself. "He just asked me what I was thinking. Honestly I think he needs professional help, he was laughing about you and I, about my mother and Jean."

I explain the conversation we had in so many words, and as I tell her she looks more and more appalled, but impressed by me.

"I'm really glad you finally stood up to him. I just don't understand why he's so condescending. Doesn't he realise by now he was wrong?"

"I don't know. I finally told him that he needs to change, I think he's starting to see my view. I'm more angry he hasn't apologised yet. To me or my mum. He can have his opinions about you and I, about what I'm doing with my life, but not about what's passed. I do think I made him almost cry, however. I finally got to him. That's why I said it was odd; we actually made some progress. It's taken over a year but an inch was finally made."

"Well I'm proud of you."

"You really are too, aren't you?" I say, looking at her expression and pulling her into me. "Thanks for coming. I know you downplay it like it's no big deal, it was only for a few minutes, and that you just sat there, but I could tell you were frightened by it."

"I was," she admits, resting her head on my shoulder. "You're welcome."

I'm glad she doesn't argue with me that it's 'no big deal.'

"Maybe I should go," I say half-heartedly. "See my mother."

"No, stay for a few minutes more? Please?"

She leans in and kisses me passionately.

"How can I say no to that?" I murmur into her lips. I can feel her grinning.

"It's just that the next time I see you we'll be on the train. Last few minutes that we can truly be alone together."

"Well let's make them count then." I push her against the sofa arm and get on top of her to make out.

"You're lame, you know? You sound like some hero in a dramatic romance novel. 'How can I say no to that?'" she imitates me.

"Oh shut up and kiss me," I laugh.

"See? Point proven."

I shake my head and she giggles. Then she places her soft palms on my face and looks into my eyes, a move that makes me forget everything, a sensation that both delights and scares me.

"You know what I told my father about you?"

"Uh, no." she says, sitting up a bit, letting go of me."

"I said that you make me happy. And he said that it wouldn't last, but I'm not so sure. Maybe that's a premature thing to say, but I'm really glad I have somebody to talk to, someone who can be there. I'm just worried that I like you too much."

"I make you happy?"

"Yeah," I say looking away from her, embarrassed.

"You make me happy too, Draco. Let me be the judge of you liking me too much."

She hugs me and then snogs me fiercely.

Even though it's terrifying me, this overwhelming feeling of desire and liking, I feel the best I've felt in what seems like my entire life. I have to let this in, I have to let her in.

I grab her head and kiss her back.