A/N: Hey all! I've finally got the update ready. Just want to say a quick thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter, you guys are great. I am loving all the feedback, especially how much you guys are enjoying the story. I hope this next chapter lives up to the rest.

xBx

~ Chapter 18: Back to Reality ~

On the final week of term, despite the teachers' best efforts, the Yuletide spirit could not be kept at bay for much longer. The snow that had started falling Monday evening had continued to fall with a vengeance, so that by Tuesday afternoon the grounds were near impassable and all Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures lessons were cancelled for the rest of the week. Hermione was extremely thankful for the extra free time as the usual amount of holiday assignments seemed to be triple for the seventh years, and she was glad for the chance of a head start. Yet, despite those extra hours of study now available to her, Hermione really didn't succeed in getting much work done: her mind was constantly distracted by the enigma that was Draco Malfoy – or, more accurately, her feelings towards said enigma.

No doubt about it, Hermione no longer hated him. No, hate had definitely disappeared a long time ago. Since September, they seemed to have co-existed as equals, and she now found that she rather enjoyed his company. He was intelligent, far more intelligent than she had previously given him credit for, and she found herself often holding in-depth conversations with him about subjects she had never been able to thoroughly discuss with Harry and Ron. Not that the boys were unintelligent, far from it, but rather they didn't share her love of book learning. Draco Malfoy, however, didn't seem quite as averse to reading something informative every so often.

She wondered briefly if they were in fact good friends? But she frowned as she thought the word; 'friends' just didn't seem to fit the relationship they had going. She thought of Ginny's words from the other night: Are we finally past the denial? Maybe Ginny was right, maybe Hermione was in denial, and so she tried to open her mind: was she attracted to Draco Malfoy? Physically, yes. She had admitted that a long time ago.

Was she falling for him? This was more difficult to answer: She had certainly grown used to being around him, and she enjoyed his company. She now found him relatively easy to talk to, and she felt comfortable sharing certain details of her upbringing and her Muggle life that she had not been able to tell anyone else. Then there was the underlying tension that had been there since Hallowe'en, and which both of them had been studiously trying to ignore. But Hermione was struggling to ignore it, especially after Monday. When Draco had grabbed her arm, his touch had sent a pleasant shiver tingling down her spine. And when she had found herself so close to him, staring into his eyes unable to look away, her stomach had filled with butterflies such as she had never known before and all she could think of in that moment was how much she wanted to kiss him.

Unfortunately for Hermione's piece of mind, this turned out to be a frequent line of thought: she often found herself wondering what his lips would taste like against hers. She mused over how his body might feel, pressed up against her, his hands entwined in her hair. And what it would be like to run her fingers through his hair.

So yes, it was highly probable that she was falling for the Slytherin Prince after all. or maybe she had already fallen. But what did it matter? Hermione reminded herself. She would be returning, in a couple of days, to her parents; back to the Muggle world where her fiancé awaited her. Hermione was engaged to another man, and falling for Draco Malfoy was not helping the situation.

Hermione let out a long, fairly loud, sigh which drew the attention of her roommate who was sat up at the large table, pouring over parchments and books.

"You alright, Granger?" Draco called over, and Hermione withdrew her gaze from the window where she had been watching, without seeing, the snow fall crystal white against a backdrop of onyx sky.

"What?" She asked, and then shook her head as if to clear it, "Sorry, lost in thought."

"They didn't sound happy thoughts." He commented, and Hermione gave a self-conscious laugh, thinking to herself if only he knew.

"It's nothing," she smiled, praying he wouldn't notice the slight blush in her cheeks. "What are you working on?" She asked, hoping to distract him.

Draco gave a discontented sigh, not unlike Hermione's, "The theoretical basis of wandless magic, for Flitwick." He said, leaning back in his chair.

"Ahh," Hermione nodded, "Yeah, he gave our class that assignment as well. I believe he wants us to attain a full theoretical knowledge and understanding before we attempt it next term."

"Have you looked at it yet?" Draco asked, "Or is that what you're doing now?" He indicated to the two books she had with her. Draco was too far away to see the contents, but open on Hermione's knee was her copy of 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard', and next to her, laying open on the couch, was her Spellman's Syllabry.

"This isn't schoolwork," She admitted, "I'm just passing the time. I looked into wandless theory earlier, in my last period free, but after an hour my brain started to hurt so I gave up for a while." She laughed, "So now I'm reading an old book in Ancient Runes."

Draco looked at her, slightly incredulous, "That's how you pass the time? Reading books in ancient runes?"

Hermione flushed at little, and rolled her eyes. "It's the only copy I have of this book, and I like it." She defended.

"What book is it?" he asked as he picked up his quill and went to load it with ink.

"The Tales of Beedle the Bard" She answered, looking back down at her book as she spoke, but looking back up again a moment later at a thunk that suggested an inkbottle had been overturned.

Draco cursed under his breath, and quickly cleaned up the ink with a wave of his wand, before looking at Hermione, wide-eyed.

"You have an original copy of The Tales?" he asked in awe, and when Hermione nodded he moved from his seat to join her on the couch, where Hermione silently handed him her book to inspect.

"Wow," he breathed, looking at the book with delicate wonder. "My mother used to read these two me as a child. We have a very old copy in the library, an original translation I believe, quite rare. But Mother always longed to find an original Ancient Rune version. We thought they were all gone."

Draco looked up at Hermione, "You must have been amazed to find this." He said.

Hermione gave an embarrassed smile, and shrugged a shoulder, "Actually, at the time I didn't even know what I was getting. I'd never heard of them," she admitted, then explained in response to Draco's disbelieving look, "These are Wizarding fairytales, I grew up with Muggle ones: Cinderella, Rapunzel-"

Comprehension dawned and Draco finished her sentence: "Brier Rose and Rumpelstiltskin, of course. You would have been read to from the Brothers Grimm."

Hermione couldn't help the incredulous look that now graced her face as her jaw dropped: Draco Malfoy knew Muggle fairytales, had Hermione just tumbled down the rabbit hole?

Draco caught the look and laughed, "The Malfoy library is vast, and has been accumulating for centuries. There a lot of Muggle works in there, a lot of first editions." He told her.

"First editions?" Hermione clarified, excitement in her eyes – just as Narcissa Malfoy had longed for the original Tales of Beedle the Bard, so had Victoria Granger longed for an original publication of Fairytales by the Brothers Grimm. "You have a first edition of Grimm's fairytales?" she asked.

Draco smiled, "Better than that, we have their original writings, their journals – original manuscripts, if you like."

Hermione didn't know what to say, she simply stared, while Draco chuckled at the shock on her face.

"I'm serious," he told her. "I'm sure I could persuade mother to let me borrow them, so you can look at them. If, in return you would let me borrow this?" He waved The Tales of Beedle the Bard in front of her.

Hermione gave him a shrewd look, as she couldn't help but remember the reason Dumbledore had left her the book. Draco continued without immediately noticing the change in Hermione's demeanour.

"My mother would love to se this, and translate it." He said.

"Simply for it's historical value?" Hermione clarified.

Draco frowned, "What other possible reason could there be?" He asked.

Hermione shrugged, "Just wondering if there was a story in particular you would like to read or investigate a little further?" she said in feigned nonchalance.

"Why?" asked Draco, suddenly alert, "Should there be? What do you know that I don't?" he asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowed.

"Nothing, nothing." Hermione said airily, waving a hand and dearly wishing she hadn't said anything. Draco turned on the couch so that he was facing her, his arm draping over the back.

"Don't give me that." He said, "There's something you're not telling me, I can tell."

Hermione looked at him for a moment, then handed him her Spellman's Syllabry.

"Here," she sighed, "Translate it for yourself, Rune to Rune, then tell me if it differs any, from the stories you were told as a child." She said simply.

Draco continued to give her a shrewd look as he slowly took the other book from her. They were interrupted by the sound of the Picture swinging open and Blaise and Ginny entered the room. Both grinned at the sight before them.

"Sorry," Ginny smirked, "Are we interrupting something?"

Hermione smiled sweetly, "Nothing at all. What's up?" She asked, shifting slightly in her seat to put a little distance between Draco and Herself.

Draco turned back around to face the room, at the same time delicately placing the two books down on the table and shifting slightly away from Hermione, only now becoming fully aware of how close they had become.

"What's wrong? All the unused classrooms locked?" Draco asked with sarcasm.

"Very funny," Blaise said, taking a seat in the chair and pulling Ginny into his lap. "We have half an hour to kill before curfew, just thought we'd drop by."

"Plus, I wanted to know what you're wearing tomorrow night." Ginny stated, looking at Hermione who rolled her eyes and shrugged.

"I don't know, I can't remember what I brought with me, probably the classic LBD. Little Black Dress." Hermione added in response to the boys' confused looks, "Have you found out who else was invited yet?" she asked.

"Haven't really asked around, but I do know that Neville is bringing Emmy as his date." Ginny said with a grin, "The DA really are doing their part in bringing about inter-house unity, aren't we?" she joked.

###

At eight o'clock the next night, Hermione was sat at the breakfast bar, tapping her fingers on the counter top, waiting impatiently for Draco to appear. He was being worse than any woman Hermione had known with how long he was taking to get ready, and when he finally emerged he descended into the kitchen muttering under his breath, clearly not looking forward to the evening. Hermione's heart skipped a beat when she saw him, and she mentally kicked herself for being such a girl. He was wearing grey, pinstriped, suit pants and a thin grey silk shirt, with an emerald green tie. The ensemble was clearly expensive and tailor-made, as each item hung from him perfectly, accentuating his toned and muscular physique – the shirt in particular was thin enough, and fitted enough, to be able to clearly see the outline of his abs in the perfect lighting. As Draco descended, he swung a thin black dress-cloak over his attire, fastening the silver clasp with a resigned sigh.

Hermione pulled herself together quick enough, and stood up before Draco reached the bottom step. When Draco caught sight of Hermione the mutterings stopped as he took in the view before him: Hermione was wearing a black dress that fell just below her knees, with a halter-neck and low-cut back. Fitted at the top and slightly cinched at the waist, the bottom was left to flow with her curves in an alluring way. It was simple yet sophisticated, and like Draco's outfit it didn't look inexpensive. Her hair was eased into a bun, and loose tendrils fell around her face effortlessly. The outfit was finished with the heels she had worn for the train journey, and a black clutch that had her wand, compact and lip-gloss – she wasn't particularly bothered about the latter two objects, but she had no where else to put her wand, and it seemed silly taking a bag just for her wand. She had also decided to pack the Marauder's Map, that Harry had sent her a couple of months back, just in case.

"Wow," Draco said before he cold think of what he was saying, "You look great."

Hermione blushed a little at the compliment, "Thank you. So do you. Now are you done complaining and can we get this over with?" she smirked, leading the way out.

Five minutes later they had meandered through the corridors and made it to Slughorn's office where the party was in full swing. As expected, Slughorn had acquired the usual amount of famous faces – Hermione spotted the drummer from The Weird Sisters, and half of The Flaming Hippogriffs, along with Gwenog Jones, a few Ministry representatives and, Hermione's heart leapt, Harry and Ron.

Her face splitting into a grin, Hermione rushed her way through the crowd and threw her arms around Harry with an excited squeal, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, before giving Ron the same welcome.

"Why didn't you tell me you would be here?" She asked, giving them each a light tap on their arm.

The boys grinned, "We thought we'd surprise you, we only got back into the office on Monday," Harry started.

"About that," Hermione said, just as Draco walked silently up to them, Blaise and Ginny with him. Harry and Ron glanced nervously at each other; they had failed to notice the new arrivals, but they hadn't failed to notice the change in their best friend's tone – Hermione was gearing up her reprimand voice, and that never bode well for them.

Hermione took a step forwards and without warning, simultaneously gave them both a sharp smack up the side of their heads.

"Ow! Hermione what the heck?" Both boys cried, gingerly rubbing their heads as Hermione started to rant.

"What is the matter with you two?" she scolded, "You've barely been at your job six months and you're already crossing lines and flouting authority! Do you want to loose you jobs? Because you're going the right way about it! This isn't school anymore, and we're not out on our own either – you can't just wonder off. You work for the Ministry now, there are protocols to be followed. I mean, do you know how galling it is to receive a letter from Kingsley telling me 'my boys have done it again'?" she quoted.

"Oh yes. In that letter you were no longer 'Potter and Weasley, Ministry Aurors'. Oh no, you were my problem: You have managed to piss off your superiors so bad that they deny responsibility for you!" She told them, and her boys had the decency to look a little ashamed as they shifted uncomfortably.

"Sorry," mumbled Ron, looking at his feet.

"Yeah, sorry 'Mione." Harry echoed, giving her his usual goofy grin.

Hermione simply shook her head and sighed, as Draco, Ginny and Blaise all gave similar derisive snorts at the same time, finally alerting the others to the expansion of the group.

"Oh she really has you two whipped," Draco commented with more of a grin and less of a smirk than Harry and Ron were used to.

Hermione shrugged and looked at Draco, still slightly disgruntled but smiling at him none-the-less. "It seems that way, but they'll be all contrite for a few days, then before you know it, they'll do it again." She admitted.

Harry was looking from Hermione to Draco, clearly disconcerted at the ease of conversation and closeness between the two; they were almost touching and yet neither were fazed by the closeness. Even when someone passed through the crowd close to the pair at that moment, Draco put his hand against Hermione's lower back, gently guiding her further into the group, preventing her from being jostled by the moving crowd and Hermione acted as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Ron, however, was oblivious to Harry's observations: he had just noticed the intimate position of Blaise Zabini and his sister, and from the look on his face he wasn't best pleased. Blaise had his arm around Ginny's waist, his hand gently resting on her hip, pulling her close as he spoke something in her ear, while Ginny had a hand lightly resting on Blaise's chest.

Hermione noticed Ron's expression and saw his ears starting to turn red – always a danger sign. As Draco was between her and Ginny, she elbowed him in the side and nodded to Ron.

"You'd better tell them to knock it off," She said with a gin, "Before Ron explodes."

Draco chuckled, but obliged, "Oi, Weaselette. You might want to tone it down, before you give your brother an aneurysm."

Ginny rolled her eyes, took a small step back from Blaise, and looked Ron straight in the eye, "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, I'm currently dating Blaise Zabini."

Hermione rolled her eyes and chuckled at her friends blatant lack of tact. Thankfully a waiter chose that moment to come to them with a tray of drinks, distracting from the awkwardness and allowing a change of subject to be introduced.

The night turned out to be more enjoyable than Hermione had anticipated: When Slughorn wasn't parading the Golden Trio as the guests of honour, Hermione found time to re-acquaint herself with the Flaming Hippogriffs, whom she had only managed to briefly speak to back in November. She discovered that one of the Ministry employees there was actually high up in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and Hermione spent a good half hour in conversation about her views on elf-rights, as well as a realistic expectation of what the department actually involved – Hermione had never thought it would be so hands on, but the idea of being a Hunter for the department sounded rather exciting, and gave her something to think about as a possible future path.

There were a few reporters and authors amongst the crowd, and while they swore they were there strictly for pleasure, Hermione still chose her words carefully when she spoke to them, despite the freely flowing mulled wine. Despite all the mingling, Hermione still found plenty of time to enjoy her friends' company; the evening started with stiff conversation and awkward silences between the boys – Harry and Ron still not used to the apparent truce between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins, but as the group drank more, tensions eased and polite conversation and even witty banter ensued.

It was now nearing 1am, the party was becoming slightly raucous and no doubt McGonagall would be coming along soon enough to chivvy the remaining students back to their rooms. Neville and Emmy, after mingling through the crowd, had found the group by a window not long into the night. Harry, who was nearest to the window, looked out over the grounds, and smiled.

"The snows finally stopped," he commented, "Look at it all, perfect and undisturbed. It would be perfect for a snowball fight, don't you think?" He looked around at the group.

Ginny giggled, she hadn't been holding back on the mulled wine, and looked at Hermione, "What do you reckon? Not quite the full blown snow-war you were planning."

Hermione laughed, "No, but it would still be fun. We'd have to sneak out though, if the teachers caught us we'd be in trouble."

"Speak for yourselves," Ron laughed, "Harry and I aren't students anymore, so we can't get into trouble."

Hermione stuck her tongue out at the redhead, causing Ginny to snort with laughter, while Harry asked quietly, "Have you got the map?"

Hermione grinned mischievously, "Of course." She said to Harry, and then addressed the rest of the group. "Alright: drink up, lets move, we'll check the map outside."

Hermione drained her goblet, placed it on the window-sill and made her way through the crowd, making sure to avoid Slughorn, and out into the corridor, where she pulled the map from her purse and tapped it with her wand whilst muttering "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Draco came up behind her, closely followed by Neville and Emmy who had been the first to follow, as the ink began spreading across the parchment.

Draco let out a long whistle, "That is an impressive artefact." He said, "Where the hell did you come across this?" he asked, peering over her shoulder in wonder.

"It's Harry's, a family heirloom," Hermione grinned and looked up, her heart rate kicked up a notch when she realised how close Draco's face was to hers, "His father and his friends made it." She said, her voice coming out a little more hoarse than usual.

Draco smirked a little, as if he knew what was going through Hermione's mind, but before she could do anymore than blush slightly, they were interrupted.

"Heh-Hem." Someone cleared their throat loudly, clearly disgruntled. Draco took a step to the side and Hermione saw that Ron had joined the group, Harry, Blaise and Ginny a step behind – the latter of whom was openly grinning at Hermione, and winked when Hermione looked back at her.

Hermione tried not to laugh at the situation, but the wine had lowered her impulse control, so she looked back at the map instead to cover her giggles.

"The corridors are deserted, peeves is three floors above us, and Mrs Norris is skulking around the Trophy Room," She told them, before folding the map and putting it back in her clutch with her wand.

"It's now or never," She said, looking up with a grin and yelling, "Haul Ass!" and with that she took off up the corridor at a run. She heard the giggles of Emmy and Ginny, who were the quickest off the mark to follow her. The boys shared a humorous look before shrugging their shoulders and taking off after them.

The boys caught up in no time, and by the time they had reached the marble staircase they had taken the lead, except Draco who hung back to ask: "You're seriously still running in heels granger?"

Ginny and Emmy had removed theirs at the first flight of steps, but Hermione had remained defiant. "They're not that high, I can run fine."

The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she stumbled on a step and would have fallen head-first if Draco's arm hadn't quickly wrapped around her waist and pulled her up.

"But apparently, you can't do stairs." He smirked.

Hermione flushed and laughed, "Apparently not," she agreed, "Thanks."

Ginny wolf-whistled from the bottom of the stairs, where she was putting her shoes back on, at which Blaise, Emmy and Neville laughed. Hermione ignored them, and continued a little more slowly down the rest of the stairs, and out into the fresh snow, now bathed in light from the entrance hall, the double doors wide open.

Harry and Ron were already out and without missing a beat, fired a snowball each at Hermione as soon as she came through the doors. A furious battle ensued, and as the minutes wore on their shrieks and laughter carried louder, slowly blocking out the sounds of the still going party drifting down from the windows of Slughorn's office. Before long all were soaking: the boys' hair was no longer styled, but stuck down on their foreheads, dripping with snowmelt.

Harry and Ron were engaged in a fierce battle against each other, completely distracted from everyone else. Hermione was taking aim, intending get Ron in the head. Too intent on her target she didn't hear Draco creeping up behind her, his hands full of snow. Hermione let out a shriek as the freezing snow touched her back and went down her dress. Immediately she turned, and before Draco had chance to remove his hands, she thrust the snowball meant for Ron into Draco's neck and down the collar of his shirt.

Hermione stepped back and giggled, as Draco thrashed at the cold and strung a few curse words together. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and gave a violent shiver, finally starting to feel the cold.

"You alright?" Harry's voice called over, and Hermione glanced over her shoulder and gave him a huge grin.

"Perfectly fine, just got a lot of snow down my dress." She called back laughing, before turning back to Draco.

"You look freezing," Draco frowned, taking in her stance.

Hermione shrugged, "The downfall of wearing a minimum amount of clothing" she joked. "I could do with another glass of mulled wine, right about now."

Wordlessly, Draco unclasped his dress cloak and draped it over Hermione's shoulders, refastening the clasp under her chin. Hermione wrapped it around her gratefully, but before she could utter her thanks, another voice ripped through the air.

"What on earth is going on here?"

All eight of them suddenly stopped what they were doing and turned, wide-eyed, towards the doors to see Professor McGonagall in her tartan dressing gown coming down the steps.

"Mr Malfoy, Miss Granger," She addressed Draco and Hermione as they were closest to the entrance hall, "Explain yourselves."

Hermione didn't know what to say; the wine and the snowball fight had left her incredibly giddy and she felt any attempt to talk would result in outright laughter, but she gave it a shot regardless.

"Snowball fight, Professor." She stated, her voice shaking slightly with the effort to control her giggles; "We were at Slughorn's party when we noticed the snow had stopped. We didn't like to waste the opportunity."

"At two in the morning?" McGonagall huffed. When no one answered, McGonagall sighed "I suggest you all return to your sleeping quarters immediately, before I loose my holiday spirit and decide to give you all detention."

"Yes Professor," Draco mumbled, at the same time Hermione whispered, "Sorry Professor."

"Potter, Weasley," She turned her attention to Harry and Ron who skulking in the background, looking awkward, "If you're not returning to Slughorn's, I suggest you pay Hagrid a visit, his lights are still on, and it will get you out the cold."

"Yes mam" Harry said, and then called to Hermione "We'll see you soon?"

"I can't tomorrow, but I'll call in on Sunday." Hermione could see Harry wanted to talk to her about something; he had a troubled look in his eyes and there seemed an urgency in his voice when he had spoke.

McGonagall turned and returned to the castle, Hermione and the others following behind, the girls sneaking glances at each other and shaking with silent giggles.

When Hermione made it back into the heads tower, she collapsed on the sofa in front of the fire in hysterics of laughter. When she finally calmed down she saw that Draco had joined her and was holding out a glass of amber liquid for her to take, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Firewhiskey," he answered her, before she could ask, "It will warm you quicker than tea."

"Thanks," Hermione took the glass and sipped, before laughing again and shaking her head, "I can't believe we didn't get into trouble, we didn't even lose any points!"

"I can't believe how you spoke to McGonagall," Draco countered, "That took some nerve." A few moments of silence ensued while the pair drank, broken eventually by Draco.

"You all packed for tomorrow?" He asked.

Hermione groaned, and her smile disappeared, "No, I need to do that in the morning." She sighed, "I need to transfigure my trunk into something more suitable for Muggle London as well. I was just going to take my sequin bag, and apparate straight home from the platform-" she started,

"You can apparate into your home?" Draco asked, "Isn't that a little risky? I mean, you haven't got anti-apparition wards or anything?"

"No, I didn't see the need. You can only get there if you know where we live. As soon as I turned seventeen I took the earliest opportunity to cast the Fidelius Charm on the house. I did it over Christmas break in sixth year. I made myself and my mother secret keepers." Hermione laughed, "Gave my father quite a shock when I did it. He was out of the house at the time, he'd been away overnight, so when he returned he couldn't find the place. Even though he lived there, he wasn't there at the time the enchantments were put up, so he needed to be told where he lived to find the place again."

Hermione smiled fondly at the memory, "It made parties a little more awkward as well: whenever they had a dinner, or a cocktail party, all the invites had to be handwritten by my mother, giving the location in exact terms: along the lines of 'the event will take place at the Granger family's home, Roseby House' or something alike. It stressed my mother out to no end. In fact, it still does, as the charm is still in place." Hermione finished.

"Huh," Draco said, "Roseby House?"

Hermione shrugged, "The house was handed down my Mother's family, her maiden name was Roseby." She explained.

"Right," Draco nodded, "So why can't you apparate there tomorrow?" he asked, still unclear as to the reason for her change of plans.

Hermione sighed again, "Mother wrote to me this morning, she will me meeting me at King's Cross with father and Richard. We'll be spending the evening in London: dinner, theatre, spending the night at a hotel. We'll be travelling back up to York on Sunday."

Hermione stared into the fire for a moment, then sat up a little straighter, and turned with a resigned smile, "But it has to be endured."

Draco shook his head, "I still can't belief you're going to go through with this, not even fight."

"I never said that," Hermione said with a sly smile, "I'll keep up the pretences for now, lull them into a false sense of security and bide my time. At home I will have access to my parents' office: I'll dig out all the paperwork I need, all the accounts for the business, the house, investments – everything. I will find out the full financial situation, and figure out what I can do from there, how much time I have and how much money I need to find. I know I'm not going to get anywhere by going in all rash; I need to plan." She finished seriously.

Draco looked at her intently for a moment, and then smirked, "How very Slytherin of you." He said, sounding slightly impressed, while Hermione gave him a surprised look – never in a million years did she expect to be called a Slytherin. Draco caught the look of amazed confusion and elaborated.

"Being rash and acting in the heat of the moment is very Gryffindor. But your way: thinking it through and planning, you're being strategic and cunning. Very Slytherinesque." He joked.

"And on that note, I'm going to bed," Hermione said with a grin, deciding to end the conversation before she could become any more blasphemous against the memory of Godric Gryffindor. She drained her glass, stood up and finally removed Draco's cloak.

"Thank you," she said, handing it back, before heading upstairs to bed.

###

At 4pm the following evening Hermione emerged from Platform 9 ¾, said a hasty goodbye to Ginny promising to call in on her soon, and proceeded to the main exit with an anxious knot forming in her stomach. At a safe distance from her fellow students, she stood to the side of the crowd, fished out the ring box from her bag, and placed her engagement ring back on her finger with a heavy heart.

Taking a deep breath she plastered a smile on her face, straightened her back, and walked out into the weak winter sun which was starting to set, onto the busy Muggle street. Hermione had barely taken two steps outside when she was accosted by her Mother and Father all smiles, and who hugged her in turn.

Her father took her luggage from her, while her mother took her arm, and began to lead her to the car waiting for them at the side of the station.

"Richard is waiting for us at the hotel," Victoria said with a smile, "We'll go strait there so you can change, then we've made dinner reservations at that French restaurant you liked in Covent Garden, and I got us tickets to Mamma Mia – I know it's not exactly a classic yet, but I thought it would be a good change of pace. And It has great reviews, plus who doesn't love a bit of ABBA?." she reeled off as they approached the car.

"Let her breath, Love." Smiled Anthony, after handing Hermione's case over to the driver who loaded it into the trunk, and opening the door for his wife and daughter, "She's just got off the train. How has your term been sweetheart?" He asked Hermione, climbing in after the women.

Hermione smiled, "Tiring," she said honestly, "But it's been pretty good, so far. Quite a success I think. So where are we staying?" Hermione asked as the car pulled out into the London traffic.

"We're in the Azure suite, at the Mayfair Hotel." Victoria answered Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Are you serious?" She asked, incredulous. "We're here for one night and we have an entire suite? Isn't that a little OTT?"

Her father shrugged, "Blame Richard." He said simply, "He sorted the accommodation – He knows the manager, apparently."

Hermione shook her head but refrained from commenting; she had been in the Muggle world all of ten minutes and Richard was already testing her patience. Though maybe she should be thankful for the suite – lots of space to move around, at least she wouldn't be forced into confined spaces with disagreeable companions.

The car journey from the station seemed to be over in no time, and Hermione followed her parents through the lavish reception and up to the seventh floor. Upon entering the suite, Hermione walked into a spacious open-plan dining and living area, across which Richard was pacing talking on the phone – judging by the voice he was using, Hermione assumed it was something to do with business.

Richard smiled at Hermione as she entered, immediately walked over to her and pulled her into a one-armed hug. He pulled the phone away from his ear slightly, and gave her a chaste, quick kiss, before returning to his conversation. Hermione smiled blandly through the exchange, despite the anger that began to churn as she remembered the last time she had heard his voice. Hermione turned to her parents and spoke softly.

"I'm going to shower and change, where is my room?" She asked.

Her father pointed towards the door opposite the entrance at the other side of the open-plan living space, "Go through that door, and the double doors on your left is your room that you're sharing with Richard,"

Hermione tried not to let the sinking feeling she experienced show on her face, as her father continued:

"Your bathroom connects to your room. The single door on the right is another entrance to our room, and the other door is another exit." Anthony finished.

Hermione smiled her thanks and wheeled her luggage in the direction her father pointed. When she went through the double doors into her room she grinned at her unbelievable stroke of good fortune. When her father had told her she and Richard were sharing a room, she had automatically assumed she would be sharing a bed. But no: instead she was greeted with twin double beds and Hermione was determined to keep one to herself.

Without wasting another precious moment of alone time, Hermione pulled out the clothes she would be wearing this evening, gave them a quick steam with a wave of her wand, and hung them on the wardrobe door, before heading into the generous sized bathroom to shower off the days travel.

As Hermione let the steaming hot water wash over her, her mind wandered back to the previous evening. Already it seemed like days ago, when in fact it had been less than twenty hours ago. Despite the fun she had had, she had the feeling there would be some questions asked by Harry the next time she saw him – Hermione had noticed Harry watch her keenly throughout the evening, more particularly her interactions with Malfoy. Hermione hadn't thought anything of it at the time, but in retrospect she realised her apparent ease with him would appear strange to Harry, who hadn't witnessed Draco and Hermione's descent into friendship. Hermione smiled remembering the pleasant conversations and laughter – even Harry and Draco were chatting fairly amicably by the end of night. Her musings were interrupted by a knock at the bathroom door and she silently thanked the Gods that she had locked it before getting in the shower.

"Don't be too long, Min." Richards voice floated through the door, and Hermione grimaced. "Your parents want to leave in thirty minutes, and I want to say a proper hello to you."

"I'll be out soon." Hermione called back, pushing all pleasant thoughts to the back of her mind and pulling herself into the present.

Thirty minutes later, Hermione left her room and ventured out into the main area of the suite. Her mother and father were nowhere to be seen, but Richard was sat at the large dining table with a glass of whiskey in hand, looking over some papers. He looked up when Hermione entered the room, smiled and sprang from his seat.

"I'm sorry I didn't give you much of an 'hello' when you came in." He apologised, "you look beautiful, by the way."

Hermione smiled her well-rehearsed smile, "Thank you. Where are my parents? I thought they wanted to leave?" she asked.

"They did," Richard nodded, a slightly guilty look, "Victoria told me to tell you thirty minutes to ensure you were ready on time. The car wont be here for another fifteen minutes." He admitted, "Drink, while you wait?"

Hermione frowned and sat herself on the couch. "Once. It happened once that I was running a little bit late, and now my Mother refuses to let me live it down." Hermione grumbled as Richard poured her a drink with a chuckle.

"Here," he said, handing her a glass and taking a seat next to her, "So, had a good term? What was it like going back after a gap year?"

Hermione took a sip of her drink to cover her hesitation in answering. If this was Harry asking, she would have given him a blow-by-blow account, but what could she say to Richard? If she started talking about Hogsmede, Quidditch and a Hallowe'en ball where the fancy dress theme was Influential Muggles, he'd think she was high.

Hermione smiled and shrugged, "It took a little time to settle back into the routine I guess," she said honestly, "But it's been good, lessons are stepping up a notch, even I'm struggling with some of the work, and that's saying something." She joked and then shrugged again, "But, you know, school is school." She finished.

Luckily she was spared any interrogation on the subject as her parents exited their room, and the party of four could finally depart for the evening.

All in all, the evening shaped up to be a lot better than Hermione had anticipated: Her father and Richard spent most of the evening in conversation with each other, talking business, which left Hermione free to talk and laugh with her mother. Plenty of wine was drunk at the meal, and a few more glasses were had at the theatre, so that by the time the four were back in the car returning to the hotel, both Hermione and Victoria were a little tipsy and high on the feel-good feeling that the songs of ABBA had induced which resulted in a rather loud rendition of Take a Chance On Me by the girls, much to the amusement of the boys.

When they entered the suite, Hermione kicked of her shoes by the door and flung her coat carelessly over a dining chair, "I'm going to head to bed," she yawned.

"Thank you for this evening. I've had a wonderful night." She kissed both her parents on the cheek and then proceeded to her room. She was followed five minutes later by Richard who, as soon as the door was closed, came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Finally, I get you alone." He murmured against her neck. Hermione tried not to openly cringe, but she wriggled out his embrace all the same. Grabbing her pyjamas she headed to their bathroom.

"I'm going to change for bed, I'll take the one nearest the window." She told him before closing the door. When she emerged again Richard was still standing where she had left him.

"Are you kidding?" He asked, and Hermione heard the hurt and confusion in his voice.

She sighed, and turned to face him, "What do you mean?"

"I haven't seen you in months, you're my fiancé, there's supposed to be some sort of intimacy here, but all I'm getting is the cold shoulder." He said.

"I'm not giving you the cold shoulder," Hermione said patiently, quelling her rash Gryffindor spirit and summoning up the calm. "I'm just really tired this evening, it's been a long day. I didn't go to bed until about three, then I was up at six-thirty to pack before breakfast." She tried to explain. "I just want a good night's sleep, in my own bed. Please." She finished.

Richard and Hermione looked at each other for a moment longer, and then Richard seemed to hunch in defeat.

"Fine," he sighed, "I don't want to argue with you, especially with your parents just across the hall. I'll sleep in this bed." He said, sitting on the edge of the bed nearest to the door and taking of his shoes.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered, before climbing into her own and turning off her bedside lamp. Hermione lay with her eyes closed and after a few moments of silence she heard Richard rise from his bed followed by his muffled footsteps and the opening and closing of the bedroom door. Opening her eyes she found she was alone. She lay awake for quite a while, and by the time she finally drifted off to sleep Richard still hadn't returned.

A/N: Finally made it to the Christmas break, and I am super excited about the next chapters :) I've got a lot of it written, so hopefully the next few chapters will be up within a few days of themselves, once I get onto finishing them up and editing them right.

Until then, I hope you liked the chapter, please review and tell me your thoughts. And keep patient, we are now on the cusp of real Dramione moments I promise you :)

xBx