A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update. I thought for sure that I'd mentioned this was going on hiatus for a while. Well, I was wrong, and I'm very, very sorry to the wonderful people who've been consistently reading this story and really making me wish to continue. The Perks of Befriending a Malfoy isn't over! :)

Hermione slowly opened her eyes, revealing just how dark the room was. She glanced at a nearby clock on the wall which read that it was about eleven o'clock at night. Still tired, she attempted to pull the covers more tightly to herself, only to find out that they weren't exactly blankets and sheets. She was tugging on a school robe; not hers, either. They were Slytherin green, not Gryffindor red.

She turned her head to the side and noticed that Draco was right beside her, with his arms wrapped tightly around her. She could feel the shivers down her spine as his breath gently touched her skin. She liked the sensation.

They were lying on the couch, which the Room of Requirement appeared to have expanded to make room for the both of them.

Oh, Room of Requirement, you and your sense of humor.

Draco still seemed to be sound asleep, and surprisingly quiet. She turned around in his arms to face him, so she could examine his face as he slept. She was curious to see what he looked like when he wasn't yelling or laughing or kissing her. . . .

They had kissed. And it wasn't even a snogging session. It was a gentle, sweet, loving kiss, and nothing more. This appeared to affirm Hermione's theory that his love for her must've been purer than many of his other so-called "romances." He didn't try to push anything on her, persuade her to do things she didn't want to, nothing like that; he just wanted to kiss her, and she was more than willing to oblige. She was fifteen years old . . . she didn't need any drama in her life.

Except, you know, that you're in the Room of Requirement late at night, sleeping beside Draco Malfoy, who is a pure-blood and also a Slytherin. Oh, and he also has a girlfriend, and another girl who snogged him at a party. And here you are, held in his arms and loving every second of it.

She considered staying in the Room of Requirement overnight. The only issue was, they'd have to get up very early in order to not rouse suspicion. That was the last thing they needed. Since they were prefects, they could at least be in the corridors at night with no problem. She'd have to wake him up.

She gently began to brush her fingers against his cheek. She couldn't help but smile. Everything was just so perfect. They had finally gotten to where they wanted to be . . . with each other. And that was perfect.

His eyelids began to slowly open. He noticed Hermione and looked visibly startled, before his memories flooded back and everything began to sink in.

"Hi," he whispered, smiling at her. "What time is it?"

"It's a little past eleven," she replied. "I think we should get up."

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, I don't want to. I'm tired."

"I'm sorry, but you have to get up eventually," she said. "You don't want us getting caught together tomorrow morning, do you ― ?"

"I don't even care anymore." He groggily opened his eyes again and looked at her. "I'm too tired to care about anything right now. Go around and tell everybody we slept together in the Room of Requirement and I'll stay here for the rest of the night. How's that sound?"

She giggled quietly. "I don't think that's what's going on. . . ."

"That's exactly what's going on," he said. "We're in the Room of Requirement, we're sleeping in the same general location, and I'm tired. That's how it is. . . . Tomorrow's Sunday, anyway. We can sleep in. And we can leave the room at separate times, we don't have to go out together. . . ."

Hermione contemplated his suggestion for a while, before shaking her head at him.

"I'm all right with staying here for the night," she said, "but I sort of have somewhere to be tomorrow morning."

"And where would that be?"

She took a deep breath. "Remember when we were in Umbridge's office and Harry told Snape about that Padfoot thing?"

"Of course," he replied. "Yeah, he really screamed that, I thought he was intoxicated ―"

"Anyway," she said, "Harry has this idea about going to save Padfoot, and I'm going with him."

"You're joking, right?" he asked. "You're not going. I can tell you that much right now."

She was visibly shocked. She pulled herself out of his embrace and sat up on the couch, glaring at him.

"You can't tell me what to do," she said.

He sat up and looked her intently in the eyes. "Yes, I can. I'm trying to help you."

"Draco, I didn't think that if I came into this sort of . . . relationship . . . with you, that you'd tell me what to do all the time. If this is how it's going to be ―"

"No, you don't understand!" he said, jumping up quickly from the couch to pace around the room. "My father is heading out tomorrow to go to the Ministry, too. Potter's visions are just a result of what the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters want him to think. That Padfoot or whatever isn't actually there. But if Potter goes, he might show up and ruin things for everybody."

"So it really is fake, then?"

"Yes."

She ran her fingers through her hair frustratedly. "I told Harry that they were fake! I swear, he never listens to me. . . ."

"He always talks about how brilliant you are," he said. "What, he can't listen to you once in a while? Doesn't sound like a very good friend to me."

"He is a good friend," she said, "he just thinks he knows how to do things on his own too much. I just worry about him."

"Don't we all?" he asked sarcastically. "Everything's about Potter all the time. You thought it necessary to create an underground society where you train an army to defend against the Dark Arts. What, that didn't start from him needing to know something? Everything comes back to him."

She stood up and looked him in the eye. "He needs someone to look after him."

"Does that someone always have to be you?" He raised his eyebrows and took a step closer to her. "He was training a bloody army, I'm sure he'd have some support. Besides, no one appreciates you. I'm being honest. It's not that you don't deserve it, it's that nobody gives it to you. And you're telling the only person who actually does seem to appreciate you that you're going to run around like wild animals in the Ministry with someone who doesn't?"

"If you really appreciated me," she began, "then you would admire and praise my decision to stick with my friend."

He walked silently around the room for a moment, his hands held behind his back. He stared at the ground thoughtfully.

"You're very . . . independent," he said, finally stopping to look at her. "I like that. You're not a pushover. I like when you tell me what you are and aren't doing. Pansy would do whatever I told her to do with no question. But you . . . you're your own person. That's nice. And I guess you can take care of yourself. Just know that if anyone does anything to you that they're considered dead."

"Even your father?" she said slyly.

"Not my father," he replied, smirking and walking closer to her, until he was directly in front of her. "Never my father. You're not that special."

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her again, more gently than their first. When they pulled away, he looked her in the eyes and turned red.

"But you are special, trust me."

He gave her a quick peck on the forehead and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"So are we leaving or not?"

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She and Viktor had never been quite this . . . intimate. Not that it was a bad thing, and it wasn't like they were doing anything Hermione wouldn't have been comfortable with. But being with Draco alone like this was so much different. She didn't know how much she craved a break from her routine until it came to her in the form of Draco Malfoy. It tasted like rebellion and adventure, and it tasted great.

"Now why on earth would we leave?" she asked, regaining her composure. "I feel tired anyhow."

"Convenient," said Draco, with a smirk. "Well, that makes two of us."

He laid back down on the elongated couch and let her snuggle up beside him. She was shivering; the room seemed colder, all of a sudden.

"Does it seem cool in here to you?" she asked.

"The Room of Requirement adjusts to desires," he replied. "I want it to be cooler in here, and it's cooler."

"So you wanted it to be cooler?"

"But of course."

"Why would you want it to be cold?" she asked, turning on her side to face him.

He smirked and dropped his voice to a whisper. "So naive."

"You want me to shiver?"

"Naive. If you shiver, you'll try to get warm. And right now, it seems like you're getting warm from my body heat. And I don't mind that. I don't mind that at all. I just wish I didn't have to explain it to you. It's much less charming when you hear my real intentions, I assume?"

"Hardly," she muttered. "You're still Draco."

"This is true."

She giggled quietly and smiled at him. "I mean you're still Draco, so I'll still find you charming."

"Oh, you do think I'm charming. That's a big statement for a fifteen-year-old girl."

"'I love you' is a big statement for a fifteen-year-old boy."

"Shut up," he teased. "I'm tired. Goodnight, Hermione."

Hermione woke up feeling a light tug on her arm. It was morning. She immediately knew what a bad decision spending the night in the Room of Requirement was; she didn't want to leave anymore. She felt comfortable and safe here. She'd have to leave this place for a little while, but they would always have this memory.

She slowly opened her eyes to meet the grey ones staring back at her. Draco sat up, throwing the covers aside.

"You're much prettier when you're not sleepy," he teased.

Hermione smiled and got out of bed. "At least my hair isn't sticking up everywhere. How much time do you have to spend on that mess in the mornings?"

"I'm sure mine's much more manageable than yours," he retorted, making his way over to her. "Easily more so. You're no princess."

"And you're no prince." She smirked and slipped her robe on over her disheveled uniform. "Should be a bit more presentable now . . ."

"That little red mark on your neck will still be just as noticeable," said Draco, putting his own robe on.

"I don't have a red mark on my neck," she snapped playfully. "Stop trying to be so funny."

"I thought you liked that about me."

He took her hand and led her towards the door. Their laughter was interrupted by a silence of their own making. This was it. Once they walked out of these doors, there was no more "Draco and Hermione." There was Draco. There was Hermione. They were never together. They couldn't be known as friends, much less as lovers.

Hermione gripped Draco's hand tighter, staring at the door. "I'm going to miss you."

"It's not like we won't see each other ever again," he said. "We've found ways to hang out behind peoples' backs before, we can most certainly do it again."

"It's not the same, though, Draco," she said, turning to face him. "Things are different now."

"We'll have patrols. I can find ways, trust me." He tipped her chin up with his free hand. "Look, I love you. Things are a little awkward, sure . . . but that doesn't change the fact that I really, really do love you. I love you more than I can possibly tell you, and I'm so glad we've finally settled this between us. I'll make it work, I promise."

He leaned in to kiss her softly. She felt waves of nerves and emotions fill her from the inside out. She was in love for the first time.

He made to pull away, but she quickly threw her arms around him and kissed him as passionately as she knew how. She couldn't just tell him that she loved him; she wanted to show him. And maybe this wasn't the best way; it certainly wasn't the only way. But it felt amazing. The friction between her soft lips and his rougher ones combined with the heat of his body against hers was truly magical.

They finally pulled away and she looked him in the eyes, smiling. "I love you, too."

He smiled back and opened the door for her. They walked alongside each other for a while, hand-in-hand, as they were in a relatively deserted corridor; no one was in sight. As they turned a corner, Draco decided to plant a small kiss on Hermione's forehead, but neither of them knew that this was one of the worst times for this. They hadn't expected anyone to be wandering around here. How could they be so foolish?

Charlotte Butler was waiting around the corner, as if she had expected them to come this way for quite some time, and she looked furious.