"Contineo Draco."

Nearly a week had passed since Hermione had left for the Burrow for Christmas break; Christmas day had already passed, and although she enjoyed the company of the Weasleys, she truly missed Draco.

It was like being without Harry and Ron for that long; she hated it. She felt lonely. And although she was independent enough to not derive her self-worth from other people, she naturally enjoyed the association.

Hermione was lying on her bed, the covers pulled up over her face. She had cast a Muffliato on Ginny to ensure the privacy of her conversation. Of course, Ginny was probably one of the best ones to hear about Hermione's new relationship with Draco if she did manage to listen in, as she was never really judgmental about these sorts of things, and she was probably Hermione's closest girl friend at this point.

The garnet stones glowed faintly for a moment, right after Hermione had tapped the ring with her wand. She felt her heart skip a beat; she and Draco were comfortable talking with each other, obviously . . . but it had been days. She didn't know quite what to expect.

"Hello?" a hushed, familiar voice asked, out of the ring.

Hermione grinned her brightest, even if he wouldn't be able to see it. "D-Draco?"

"Well, yeah, obviously," he replied, with a sort of dry laugh.

"Having a nice break so far?" Hermione cringed as she uttered the words, for fear that the conversation would run dull.

There was a moment's silence before Draco spoke again. "Um . . . yeah, I mean, it could be better. . . . Well, how are you?"

"Draco, I want you to tell me what's wrong."

Hermione knew him far too well to mistake his delay for a simple thought process. No, there was more to him than that. It didn't help that he sounded almost weak and defeated.

"It's nothing, really," he said, rather quickly. "Well, it is something, I'm not going to lie . . . something happened and I'm not sure what to do about it. A few things happened, actually. . . ."

"Do you intend to tell me?" Hermione asked.

"I'm planning on it," he replied, "but not here. I know that we're using these rings to communicate privately and all, but in all honesty, someone could walk in my room at any time and . . . you know."

"So it involves your family, then?"

"Perhaps. One problem is directly, the other indirectly."

Hermione took a deep breath, a little put off from his vagueness, but she gave him the benefit of the doubt and assumed that he really couldn't say anything, even if he did cast a silencing charm. His parents were in league with Voldemort, after all, and she didn't fully understand the capacity of his power yet.

"Can we meet in Diagon Alley tomorrow?" he asked. "You know, like I mentioned before we left? I'd rather talk to you about it there."

"That'd be great," she said, gaining her smile back. "Well . . . did you at least manage to have a nice Christmas?"

"Nice enough," he said. "I don't know. Christmas with my family's probably a lot different from Christmas at the Weasleys' . . . speaking of which, Arthur's doing better, right?"

"From what we can tell," she replied. "We visited him in St. Mungo's the other day ago, and he was home on Christmas day, but . . . how are the Holidays different for you?"

"A lot of it's the same," he said. "You know, eating a ridiculous amount of food and getting an even more ridiculous amount of presents . . . but it's the atmosphere, I guess. My father was never really one for holidays, you know. It was the one time during the year that I went home, and he would get his impression of how I was growing up at school. There'd always be complaints about Dumbledore, of course, and some of the teachers as well, but he just ― I don't know. He sort of puts a damper on things when he's going on rants."

"He can't give it a rest for the holidays?"

"I guess not. He just wants to see how well his son's doing and make sure that he hasn't been associating with anyone of . . . well, lesser status."

Hermione blushed, even though she wasn't face-to-face with Draco. She was exactly one of the people that his father would go berserk over if he caught his son talking to her.

"And look where that's gone!" he said sarcastically. "And I could care less. I just wish that the holidays weren't always like that."

"How long has he been doing this?" she asked.

"Ever since my first Christmas break," he replied. He let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Yeah, I'll never forget the day one of my friends gave me this Muggle stuffed toy. He went mental, I tell you. . . ."

Hermione couldn't help but giggle a bit, and when he laughed in return, she felt the tension lift. "What, over a little teddy bear?"

"A rather large one, at that," he said, still laughing. "You see, my friend was a half-blood, and he lived in Muggle London, so he often got Muggle toys for the pure-blood kids who didn't seem so opposed to Muggles . . . I wasn't even very prejudiced towards them until my second year, you know. Anyway, it was this huge, stuffed, chocolate-brown bear. It was nearly as big as I was, but you know I've always been a little short ―"

"You're not short," she interjected. "You're a fine height."

He laughed again. "I know I'm shorter than a lot of guys my age, Hermione. I wouldn't have been Seeker if I didn't have the right build for it."

"That's debatable," she teased. "But, about the bear . . . what did your father do to it?"

"Oh, I haven't a clue," he replied. "He confiscated it, I guess. Not sure how he disposed of it, though. Sad thing, though, I really liked that bear . . . but I got over it pretty quickly. I got into sports, and I was immediately this masculine, hyped-up creature that was too cool for stuffed toys."

Hermione giggled, but stopped abruptly when she thought she heard Ginny stir a bit. Ginny tended to sleep in, so Hermione had no problem getting up a bit early to talk to Draco . . . but the time had passed fairly quickly, and Ginny would probably rouse Hermione to get her out of bed if she appeared to still be sleeping.

"Draco, I think I need to go," she said. "I think the family's waking up."

"Yeah, it's probably the same over here," he said. "So . . . tomorrow, Diagon Alley? Maybe about eleven o'clock in the morning?"

"That sounds wonderful," she replied. "I'll just tell the rest that I'm out for some study group. That'll deter Harry and Ron for sure. . . ."

He laughed, but weakly. "Sounds like a plan; I'll talk to you about everything there then . . . well, have a nice day, Hermione."

"You too, Draco."

Hermione guessed that Draco had ended the call; she wasn't exactly sure how to do it anyway. She sat up, lifted the silencing charm she had put on Ginny, and got out of bed, worried sick over what Draco's problems might be. She had tried her best to seem cheerful and calm during the conversation, but she was practically ripping her hair out now. People related to Death Eaters, it seemed, would potentially have the worst problems.

Pacing frantically around the room, she thought of ways she could cheer him up when she met with him the next day. Plus, she hadn't gotten him a Christmas present . . . but that conversation, at the very least, inspired her about what to get him. She couldn't give it to him tomorrow, of course, because even if it shipped in enough time, he'd have to carry it into his house somehow. No, she'd have it delivered to Hogwarts, so he could hide it there.

The previous day seemed to go by so slowly, and the next morning even slower. But, thankfully, she had managed to convince Harry, Sirius (who had been at the Burrow, but Hermione neglected to inform Draco about this), and the Weasleys that she was going to a monitored study session in Diagon Alley, and as expected, Harry and Ron expressed absolutely no desire to go.

She was now walking aimlessly around Diagon Alley, which was, thankfully, fairly empty. There were a few people here and there, but not enough that they would be suspicious to see her and Draco walking and talking together like it was normal behavior. It was fairly cold out, too, so many people were inside to get warm. Hermione felt a twinge of jealousy; she was freezing out there, and Draco was nowhere to be found yet.

Soon enough, however, she caught sight of him turning a corner towards her. She rushed to meet him, ready to ask him about the problems that were driving her mad for a whole day.

When she had caught up with him, she pulled him into a tight, warm hug. She wondered briefly if they could just stand like this for a while; it'd certainly be warmer for the both of them. Pulling away from the hug, she raised her eyebrows inquiringly.

"So?" she asked, resulting in another pause. "Can you tell me now?"

"Hello to you, too," he said, furrowing his brows. "Have you really been that concerned?"

"I haven't thought of much else," she replied. "I didn't know what was going on, and with your family situation being the way it is, I got so worried. . . ."

"That's sweet of you," he said, managing to curl the corners of his lips upward to form a very light smile. Then his face fell, and he took her hand, squeezing it tightly. "Can we, er . . . walk around a bit? It might help with the cold. . . ."

"Of course," she said, still keeping his hand in hers as they walked.

"You make this difficult, you know," he said, after they had been walking for some time.

"How so?" she asked.

"Well," he said, after a moment's hesitation, "I wasn't sure how to tell you this anyway, and now you're face-to-face with me and bloody holding my hand . . . I just want to make sure that no matter what I'm about to tell you, you won't stop doing that."

"Nothing you say will make me stop being friends with you," she assured him. "I might get angry at you, of course, but I won't stop being your friend."

He stared at her for a few moments, visibly shocked. "Again, you're a very sweet person, I hope you know that. Anyway . . ."

He stopped walking, nodded his head towards a concealed corner of Diagon Alley, and tugged her slightly in the direction of it. When they were seated up against a wall, right next to each other ― they were still holding hands and decided not to separate ― Draco began to speak.

"Which one would you like first?" he asked. "Of the couple of issues?"

"The one that affects your family directly," she replied. "That was the first one you mentioned yesterday."

"All right," he breathed. "You've heard about that mass breakout in Azkaban?"

"Yes," she said, "everyone has."

"Do you recognize the name 'Bellatrix Lestrange'?"

"Um . . . yes, yes I do, actually. Wasn't she on the escapee list?"

"The very same," he replied. "Yeah, she's my aunt, and she's going to be coming around a lot more now."

Hermione's eyes widened, and she gripped his hand more tightly. "Is that ― is that even safe for you?"

"I don't think she'd hurt her own family, if they were also loyal to the Dark Lord," he said. "I should be fine; I'll just try not to get on her bad side, that's all."

"So then . . . you'll have to be more careful in talking to me, right?"

"I'd suppose so. I don't want anything messy to happen. I'm not worried about me; I'm worried about you, honestly. She can get pretty scary when it comes to anyone who isn't pure-blood."

"I'll keep that in mind," she breathed. "So . . . the problem that doesn't affect your family directly?"

"Oh, yeah . . . that." He took a deep breath, running his free hand through his hair nervously. "Let me just tell you beforehand that I'm not proud of this at all . . . I, er . . . you know ― you know Charlotte, correct?"

"Yes," Hermione said, slowly. "She's a friend of mine."

"That's great," he said, with a trace of sarcasm. "That makes this easier . . . well, she and I . . . the night that you left . . ." He took another deep breath, and made sure to keep his head turned towards anything but Hermione. "You see, we had a sort of Christmas party in the Slytherin common room, and things were getting pretty rowdy ― they usually do at these parties ― and people were doing things that they normally wouldn't have done. And I don't know what they slipped Charlotte, but she was acting very, very different. Most of the guys seemed to like it, of course, and I'm not trying to sound vain, but she came over to me a lot."

"What did she do?" Hermione asked.

"She, er . . . she asked me if I wanted to get away from the noise and all. I wasn't really picking up on what she meant, and I told her that I was a bit tired of the party. Well, I found out what she meant soon enough, when she was leading me up the stairs to the fifth year boys' dormitory."

Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth, and looked at him intently. He still refused to look at her.

"And ― and ― what happened, Draco?" she whispered.

"Look, I was bored, all right?" he said. "I followed her, but to be quite honest, I actually didn't think she was going to go as far as you might think, really ―"

"I think you need to find better hobbies for when you're bored," she muttered, pulling her hand out of his.

This was the side of Draco she hated. Sure, he could be nice and was definitely a good friend to her, but he had a habit of getting just a bit too friendly with various Slytherin girls this year. He met her eyes again; first out of disappointment from her removing her hand from his, but then to explain further.

"Trust me when I was that it was even less than the one time you saw me with Pansy on that night shift," he said. "Well, I mean, I didn't intend for it to be any more than that. . . . It started like normal. Yeah, I kissed her, but it wasn't for very long. But she . . . she got a bit, er . . . eager, to say the least, and I stopped her ―"

"You stopped her?" asked Hermione, her eyebrows raised in shock.

"Don't act so surprised," he said, suppressing a smile. "I'm only fifteen, and so is she. I'm not that much of an idiot. I have other things on my mind, you see," he added, looking at Hermione intently. "Did you think I really would go that far with one of my drunken friends?"

"Well, to be quite honest, yes I did," she replied, turning a pale shade of pink.

He laughed softly. "I guess you don't know me as well as I thought you did." He grinned and shook his head. "She just ― I don't know, it didn't feel right at all."

"So she just completely came onto you?" asked Hermione, still surprised that Charlotte would act in such a way.

"Of course," he said. "And she wouldn't be the first one, right? I mean, Pansy's still convinced that you came onto me a couple of months ago. . . ." He chuckled briefly, but soon he stopped talking. His eyes widened as he trailed off. "Oh ― oh, no ―"

"What is it?" she asked.

"Pansy," he replied. "She might've noticed us leaving the common room . . . damn it, I'm going to come back to school with two deranged Slytherin girls pestering me ―"

"But you'll have a Gryffindor girl who won't," she said, smiling lightly.

He returned the smile, taking her hand again. "You're right."

There was silence for a few moments, before Hermione spoke again. "I just can't believe ―"

"That someone like Charlotte would do that?" he said. "Yeah, I didn't think so, either. It's those quiet, bookish ones you've got to watch out for. . . ."

"Oh, right, those are all the sluts," said Hermione, giggling.

Draco immediately flushed red. "Oh, no ― I didn't mean ― no, not at all ―"

She covered her mouth with her hand to suppress the oncoming fit of laughter as Draco struggled for words.

"You're like the anti-Charlotte, you're not ―"

"Draco, I'm not offended," she said, her cheeks tinted from laughter. She beamed at him. "But I am proud."

"Proud?" he asked, still a bit nervously. "Proud of what?"

"It didn't feel right to you so you didn't just go for it," she replied. "You've really matured over this school year, you know."

He scoffed. "As if I would've done it at the beginning of the school year."

Hermione cast him a knowing look and smirked. "Yeah, right. You're becoming quite the Gryffindor, you know, being so virtuous and brave ―"

"If you say that one more time, I'll probably relapse," he said, laughing. "And look; after I got that off my chest, you're still my friend."

"Of course I am," she said. "That whole Charlotte thing wasn't your fault. Well, I'm not too glad that you kissed her in the first place ―"

"― As am I ―"

"― But you stood up to her." She pulled him into another warm hug. "Trust me, Draco; I really mean it when I say I'm proud of you."

"Thank you."

He began to stand up, holding his hand out to help her get up as well. She could feel the blush creeping into her cheeks as she laid her hand in his, but tried to ignore it.

"I honestly can't wait until school starts back up again," she said. "We'll be able to talk face-to-face like this more."

"And that gives me something to look forward to," he beamed.

Draco was desperately trying, with every ounce of energy in his body, to not just kiss her right then and there. It would be nothing like the kisses he was used to, of course. Those were built on lust and desperation. This would be much different; it'd be built on a mutual bond . . . would it be called love? They weren't at that point in their relationship yet, of course, but Draco was by his very nature a determined person. They'd hit that point sometime, he just knew it . . . but now wasn't the time for that.

Hermione was oblivious to his inner feelings, as usual. And with his family situation being the way it was, she'd have to contact him less and less over the duration of the break, for the safety of both of them.

But at least that gives me an excuse to hug him tighter than I ever have.

And even though she wasn't sure of his feelings, she, too, felt like they were getting closer rapidly, and that something might start between them sooner than she thought. Well, she'd settle with mildness for now.

"Well, I'll see you at school ―"

Hermione cut him off with a quick kiss on the cheek.

Way to settle for mildness.

"Friends give cheek kisses, Draco," she said, rolling her eyes as he looked at her in shock.

"Do they, now?" he asked, blushing a shade of red that would make a Weasley proud.

"Sometimes," she said, "when they're really close friends, that is."

"And we're ― we're very good friends, right?"

"I would say so."

He smiled at her, albeit somewhat nervously. "I'll keep that in mind, then."

"Well . . . enjoy the rest of your holiday, Draco," she said, beaming and taking a few steps backward.

"You too, Hermione."

She practically skipped out of Diagon Alley, her heart racing. Yes, he had blushed when she kissed him, even if it was just on the cheek. And he smiled at her when she explained.

Yes, Hermione; he probably likes you too. But you're the bold Gryffindor, so you'd better re-think it if you think that he'll confess something to you first. Well, get to work; you've got two girls to triumph over and a Malfoy's heart to win.