A/N: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews to the last chapter - I'm sorry I didn't reply to them, but I did read them, and I'm truly loving the support. You guys are fantastic!

Anyway, here is the party, I hope you enjoy the chapter (I think you might like the ending ;) ...hopefully)

xBx

~ Chapter 20: Crossing Lines ~

As soon as Draco apparated back into his bedroom, he called out for his favourite house elf. A moment later the elf appeared with a loud crack.

"Master called for Botley?" He squeaked.

"Yes, do you recall the Muggle suit I had made over summer?" Draco asked.

"Is Master speaking of the one he brought home from Italy?" Botley clarified.

"Yes, that one. I'll need it for this evening, but I can't remember where I placed it." Draco told the elf, "Could you possibly find it for me, and see that it's ready to wear by the time I get out of the shower?" He asked.

"Certainly sir," the house elf bowed, "Botley knows exactly where it is and can fetch it this instance."

"Thank you," Draco said as the elf disappeared with another crack. Just as Draco was making his way to his bathroom there was a knock at his door, and his mother's voice floated through the wood.

"Draco where have you been? Did you forget we have a guest this evening?" She asked.

Draco sighed and pulled open his door, "How did you even know I had gone?" he asked.

Narcissa frowned as she took in her son's appearance, "My clock," She said simply before chastising him,

"You're not even dressed, Harry got here half an hour ago. What have you been doing?" She asked again.

"I'm very sorry mother, but I won't be joining you for dinner. I have somewhere else I need to be." He said politely, trying to control his grin, "And as you have just pointed out, I am still not dressed, so if you will excuse me, I only have twenty-five minutes to remedy this." He said with a smile.

Narcissa rolled her eyes, "Before you go, the earrings you took earlier?"

"Yes," Draco said slowly, praying his mother wasn't about to change her mind about them.

"Could you show them to Andie before you gift them, only I told her about them and she'd like to see them." Narcissa asked.

"My apologies again, but they are currently sitting in the ears of a very beautiful woman." Draco told her, not bothering to check his words – he was in too much of a hurry and was barely aware of what he was saying.

"Indeed," Narcissa gave a restrained smile, trying to maintain her mirth at this new side of her son that she was seeing. "And would this happen to be the same woman whom you are going to this evening?" she asked, in feigned nonchalance.

Draco smirked, "Perhaps," he said evasively, "Now, don't you have a guest you should be entertaining?" He prompted.

"Fine," Narcissa conceded to let her son be, "But please behave yourself, don't get into any trouble, and please don't do anything stupid. Our name is still on trial and we have a long way to go." She reminded him.

Draco grinned, "I can promise to try," he compromised, thinking of his long over-due introduction to Richard Alden that would be happening shortly. No doubt he would despise the man instantaneously, based on everything Granger had ever said about the guy, and he was very much looking forward to being the arrogant and intimidating Slytherin towards him.

Narcissa rolled her eyes and turned to leave, knowing full well that forbidding her son to do anything would simply make certain that he did it.

###

Hermione was stood beside the double doors leading into the ballroom, in line with her parents and Richard, welcoming the guests as they entered. She had been at it for half an hour already, but never did her smile falter: She smiled happily as she greeted as if seeing these people were the only Christmas gift she could have wanted, despite forgetting some of their names mere moments after the went away; she thanked them when they complimented her dress and she beamed when a few gave whispered congratulations, and she showed them the engagement ring hanging around her neck with an enthusiasm that befitted the most happiest woman in the world.

All the while she played her part, Richard had one arm around her back resting lightly, yet possessively, on her hip, and Hermione smiled through it despite the grim shivers she felt at Richard's touch.

"How long do we have to stay here?" Hermione asked politely, as the latest arrivals walked away from them, the throng of arrivals finally dwindling. Victoria turned to Hermione, and spoke with a smile, almost as fake as her daughters - this was the most tedious part of the evening for Victoria.

"As long as takes, darling." Victoria shrugged, "Once all the guests have arrived we will be free to mingle."

Hermione sighed, "Why is it that the waiters never come around here with the drinks?" She asked, more to herself than anyone, though the comment didn't escape her Mother's ears.

"Really Hermione, you are beginning to sound like an alcoholic," Victoria chastised, but Hermione saw her father smile at her with laughter in his eyes, he didn't seem to mind at least.

"I have been holding the same glass for forty minutes, that hardly makes me an alcoholic," Hermione sighed, and then smirking she suddenly added: "Besides, alcoholics go to meetings. I do not, which makes me a drunk: we go to parties. There is a world of difference."

Hermione felt Richard turn away to hide his mirth, but she plainly saw her father chuckling – at least someone here appreciated her humour. Victoria however looked less than impressed, instead she took a very deep calming breath, but refrained from a reprimand as another guest was being shown into the room.

Richard leaned down and whispered in her ear, "You shouldn't wind her up too much, it's hardly fair."

Hermione giggled, ever keeping up the pretence, and looked up at him with a grin muttering: "spoil-sport."

At the same moment, the man on the door announced the new arrival, "Mr Draco Malfoy."

Finally! Hermione thought, turning away from Richard and stepping forward with a smile. Richard echoed her movements, keeping his hand on her waist.

"Nice of you to finally show," Hermione said with a smile, "Allow me to introduce you," She looked to her parents, missing the brief glance Draco took to the hand resting possessively on her waist. Draco didn't like that at all, in fact he was surprised by just how much he didn't like it and he was determined to resolve the issue quickly.

"This is Draco Malfoy," Hermione was saying, "We got to school together, we've been in the same year all along – neither of us finished last year, so we both returned to complete our education. The Malfoys hold a large estate in Wiltshire that has been in the family for many generations." She looked back at Draco, "This is my Father, Anthony Granger-"

Draco shook his hand, "An honour to meet you Sir. Thank you for inviting me into your home." He said, bringing out the best of the Malfoy manners.

Hermione smiled, "My Mother, Victoria, you've already met."

"Mr Malfoy," Victoria held out her hand, which Draco took but instead of shaking it he brought it up and gently pressed his lips against it.

"Mrs Granger, it's delightful to see you again, I'm sorry if I'm terribly late." He said and Hermione tried not to laugh or show her shock – this was certainly a side of Draco Malfoy she had never seen before. Hell, she didn't even think it existed.

Victoria suppressed a small giggle, "Hermione didn't tell me you were such an old-fashioned gentlemen."

Draco turned on his faithful Malfoy charm and gave Victoria a roughish grin that Hermione knew had already broken more than it's fair share of hearts, "Forgive me, my mother always tells me that gentlemen nowadays have no idea of the true meaning of the word. My family try to retain as much of the old charm as possible."

"I quite agree. Though your Mother has raised her son well, I believe you are quite the true gentleman." Victoria told him.

Hermione couldn't believe it: less than five minutes and already he had Victoria Granger eating out of the palm of his hand - a very impressive feat considering that less than an hour ago she was less than impressed at his presence in her daughter's bedroom.

"And this," Hermione said, pulling Draco's attention back to the introductions, "Is Richard Alden. My fiancé." She added with the well-rehearsed happy smile.

Draco turned his smile onto the man beside her; it was a very different smile to the one he had bestowed on her mother – that had been rather inviting. But this one was cold and almost intimidating, however it appeared that no one else had noticed the change except Hermione - when had she started reading him so well?.

"Pleased to meet you," Draco said, holding out his left hand with a slight smirk. Hermione knew at once what he was doing and grinned in spite of herself: In order to shake Draco's hand, Richard would have to remove his hand from Hermione's waist – that, or be incredibly rude to a guest.

"Nice to meet you," Richard said deciding on the honourable route and taking Draco's hand. "Hermione hasn't really told much about you," Richard confessed with a smile, but Hermione heard the double meaning: In Richard's eyes, Draco Malfoy was already seen as a threat, and he wanted to intimidate him by suggesting that he wasn't worth mentioning.

Draco smirked; he wasn't new to these kinds of games, and he expertly returned the back-hand by saying: "Hermione's told me even less about you."

Before Richard could respond, or place his arm back around her, Hermione took a step toward Draco.

"Why don't I introduce you around the room, and help you to mingle." Hermione said to Draco, gracefully linking her arm in his and steering him away in an attempt to diffuse the tension before it boiled over so early in the evening.

As they walked away, Hermione glanced back to Richard giving him her warmest smile, "I'll find you later, Darling." She promised, before turning her attention to Draco.

"Let's start over there," Hermione suggested, steering him towards a waiter carrying a full tray of champagne around the crowd.

"You're going to acquaint me with the wait staff? Seriously?" Draco asked, with a raised eyebrow, and his customary smirk.

"No," Hermione smiled, "I intend for us to become acquainted with the contents of his tray."

Draco laughed and allowed him to be steered across the room, "Quite the little show you're putting on. I swear if I hadn't heard you talk about him at school, I would be quite convinced of your undying love for him," Draco said mockingly yet appraisingly at the same time.

Hermione smiled a slightly mischievous smiled, as she replaced her empty glass with a full one, "What can I say? I'm good at what I do." She smirked.

"So, that was your fiancé." Draco stated in a forced casual tone, taking a glass of his own from the tray, and Hermione smiled sweetly.

"Yes, didn't you find him simply marvellous?" Hermione gushed, like a lovesick teenager, for the benefit of the couple just passing them by.

"Not particularly." Draco said quietly, "Though I do believe he's quite the jealous type, and I'm determined to confirm it by the end of the night." He declared, giving her his classic roguish grin.

Hermione raised her eyebrows with a sly smile, "Oh really? And just how are you going to confirm it?" She challenged. Draco simply smirked, lifted his glass to his lips and winked, causing Hermione to laugh and shake her head.

"Please don't antagonise him," she asked, after taking a sip of champagne. "I would hate for a fight to break out."

"Me? Antagonise?" Draco said, in over-dramatic shock, "Would I ever?"

Hermione frowned, but Draco saw the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth: she could bite her cheek as much as she wanted, Draco knew that she was amused. She was spared answering him, however, when a couple of the guests came over toward them and Hermione slipped effortlessly back into her role as the happy little heiress.

Draco watched her intently while the evening progressed, as she introduced him to acquaintances that were forever moving their way. He also noted how she seemed to always be moving in the opposite direction of her fiancé, so that even after a couple of hours they had yet to come in contact with him again.

"I must admit," Hermione said to Draco, as another guest walked away from them, "I'm surprised at how well you're doing."

"What do you mean by that?" He asked, taking a couple of drinks from the waiter walking by and silently handing one to her.

"Well, I honestly thought that by now you would be betraying some signs of discomfort. You are a Malfoy in a room full of Muggles, after all." She joked, and Draco tried not to take offence by her words.

"Please don't judge me by my name, and the connotations my ancestors have brought to it." He said quietly, but he smiled to take the edge of his words.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, her smile dropping for the first time, "I didn't mean-"

"It's fine," Draco cut her off, still smiling, and putting a hand to her arm to assure her there were no hard feelings. "I know my family have made a lot of mistakes, and that I have a lot of work ahead of me to change the way people view us. I guess tonight is a little like a first step."

"Well, you're doing marvellously well," Hermione said, finding her composure again, "And I'm curious, where did you find such a fine suit at such short notice?"

"I've had it for months, so it wasn't difficult to find." Draco told her, his roguish grin flitting back onto his face.

Hermione laughed, then noticed him looking at her in all seriousness, "You're being entirely truthful, aren't you?" She said, slightly surprised.

Draco raised his shoulders slighter, "I haven't told a single lie this evening. Unlike some people..." he let the insinuation hang in the air.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "I'll pretend I didn't hear that," she told him, then remembering an earlier conversation she asked, "So when you were discussing wines with the Beaumonts earlier? You really do own a large vineyard in Italy?"

"I now own two." He told her simply.

"Two?" Hermione repeated, a little louder than she had intended and Draco chuckled.

"Yes, two. The first has been in the family for a couple of centuries – we're the oldest producers of Elf-made wine, I believe. And before you go all high and mighty," he added quickly, "I know what you're like with you damn elfs, our wine-elfs aren't like house-elfs, they get wages and days off."

"I wasn't going to say a word," Hermione said calmly,

"No, but you were thinking a fair few, I guarantee it." He accused with a smirk, but Hermione didn't respond, so Draco continued. "As I was saying, the Malfoy's have owned Arbour Wines for centuries, but – What?" Draco asked suddenly, as Hermione was now laughing and shaking her head in amusement, though Draco seemed to be missing the joke.

"Nothing," Hermione said, "It's just, I like that wine. In fact we had a bottle with dinner last night." She told him with another laugh.

"Is that so?" Draco said smiling down in amusement, "Well in that case, thank you for putting money in my pocket," he laughed, raising his glass.

Hermione laughed yet again, chinking her glass to his, humouring his mock toast, "You are very welcome." She joked back. "And your other vineyard?" Hermione asked.

"A recent acquisition." He told her, "Quite near to mine, I heard the owner was thinking of selling, so I thought I would invest. It's good acreage, reliable produce, and it's a Muggle wine, quite popular I believe. Hence the suit," he ginned, "I couldn't very well sit down with a room full of Muggles without a good Muggle suit. I had my tailor whip it up while I was over there - Giovani is great with Muggle and Wizard attire, certainly the best."

"Wow," Hermione said, after a moment's contemplation, "I'm beginning to realise just how much I underestimated your worth." She said causing Draco to laugh.

Before Draco could make a comment, another guest interrupted them again; a young woman with blonde hair, rather tall, and looking roughly the same age as themselves.

Hermione instantly smiled widely, and went forward to embrace the new arrival,

"Melissa, I was wondering when I would find you." She said.

"You've been moving around continuously, I thought I would never catch you." Melissa said with a grin, "Richard and I were saying, you're as slippery as a serpent this evening."

Hermione heard Draco chuckle at the choice of words, and Hermione couldn't help but let out a small laugh, despite the anger that had started to bubble.

"You managed to find Richard easily enough then?" Hermione commented, "I confess, I've hardly seen him at all this evening. But I have been busy introducing my friend." She turned back to Draco,

"This is Draco Malfoy," Hermione introduced for what felt like the millionth time, "His family has a large estate in Wiltshire. And a couple of vineyards in Italy, apparently." She added and Draco scowled, this woman didn't need to know that.

"Really?" Melissa said, clearly more interested in him now that she had some idea of his worth.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "This is Melissa Harding," she told Draco, and was seriously considering adding a 'money grubbing whore', but she contented herself with saying with a smile, "My oldest friend."

"Indeed?" Draco said, catching Hermione's slight stressing of the words 'oldest friend', that in conjunction with her significant look told Draco this was the woman who her fiancé had been sleeping with.

"A pleasure to meet you," Draco said, and Hermione was less than happy with the expression on Melissa's face as Draco took her hand. Unless Hermione was quite mistaken, it seemed Melissa's infatuation with Richard was about to be passed over to man worth a considerable amount more. Hermione didn't like this idea one bit – in fact, she believed the churning she felt were the first stirrings of jealously, and this revelation shocked her. Since when did Hermione get jealous? Melissa's flirtations with Richard had never stirred any emotions in her whatsoever, not even when Hermione had first started dating Richard and she had actually felt something for the man. Why then, when Melissa began flirting shamelessly with Draco, was Hermione suddenly gripped with a mad desire to slap the woman in front her.

Before she could act on this new impulse, however, Richard joined the three, and Hermione was forced to smile as he said: "Here you are, my two favourite girls."

Richard slipped an arm around Hermione's waist, and kissed her on the head. Hermione had to remind herself that the three had been good friends long before Hermione and Richard first got tether – Richard had always called her and Melissa 'his two favourite girls.'

"I was beginning to think you were avoiding me," Richard joked and Hermione laughed.

"Don't be silly," Hermione soothed, "I'm simply being a good hostess."

"Speaking of your hostess duties," Richard said slyly, "Your father's looking for you. It seems the Wainrights have reminded him of the yearly tradition."

Hermione groaned, "On no, really? I had hoped no one would really remember that." She said with a sigh.

Richard grinned, and squeezed her to him, "It's been two years and apparently they're not the only ones to have missed your duets. After the Wainrights voiced their wish, a few others seconded it, so your father sent me to find you. You know where to find him." He grinned.

"I hate you right now." Hermione said with a sickly sweet smile, before turning her attention to Draco, "I'm really sorry but I'm going to have to abandon you for a little while. I really wish I didn't have to but I do." She smiled and walked away to find her father.

"I don't know why she complains," Melissa commented, "If I could sing and play like her, I'd be at the piano all the time."

"Is that so," Draco mused, watching Hermione walk away towards the grand piano in the corner of the room, where her father was stood. "Will you excuse me," he said suddenly, draining his glass. "Refill."

Draco smiled, went to take another glass from the nearest waiter, and positioned himself near the fireplace, which offered him a perfect view of Hermione's countenance as she took her seat, frowning good-naturedly at her father who had just picked up the guitar.

Hermione led the way into the song, Anthony picking up the accompaniment in perfect time, and when Hermione's voice carried clear across the room Draco was pleasantly impressed: She really was a woman of many talents.

Before he could thoroughly enjoy the show for too long, Draco felt a presence at his side and Richard spoke quietly to him:

"My fiancé has quite a talent." Richard said, fairly possessively.

"Granger has many talents, and she excels at the all." Draco told him truthfully, not tearing his eyes away from her.

Richard gave a sniff of a laugh that was devoid of any humour, "I see the way you look at her, and I think you should stop." He told Draco and this time Draco did look at him.

"That sounds almost like you're threatening me. Not very hospitable is it?" Draco said with a raised eyebrow, "Rather stupid of you too, I will point out. No one threatens me."

"And no one messes with my fiancé." Richard said, his face hardening, but Draco simply smiled.

"I'm not messing with her. I'm simply treating her the way she deserves to be treated." Draco told him, turning back to watch Hermione.

"You need to take a step back." Richard warned again, "She's my fiancé and I love her-"

"Then show her some respect." Draco interrupted, looking back at Richard with all traces of geniality gone from his face,

"Pay her the attention, instead of the little blonde half of your 'two favourite girls'. Just because Hermione doesn't react, it doesn't mean she hasn't seen. And while I may have kept her quite distracted this evening, I didn't fail to notice your absence earlier, so it naturally follows that she may have noticed it too." Draco let his words hang in the air for a moment before delivering his final statement.

"You don't want to make an enemy of me, I can promise you that. But you're about to the cross the line, so I would watch your step if I were you."

Draco left no time for Richard to reply and walked away from him in the direction of the piano, where Hermione was just rising from her seat, to the applause of the surrounding people.

Draco picked up another drink, handing it directly over to her when he was near, "I knew you could play, but I never knew you could sing." He told her with a smile.

"Not many people know I can," She admitted, "But father and I sat down to sing one time, and since then it's become a frequent request." She admitted, adding quietly as the crowd dispersed, "It's only in the Muggle world that I play and sing, I've never found the opportunity to indulge in the Wizarding world."

At that moment, two men whom Hermione recognised as business associates of Richard's father came over to them, both giving Draco a wary glance.

"Miss Granger," the taller gentleman said, reaching for her hand, "I can't tell you how honoured I am to finally meet you properly."

"Thank you," Hermione said, slightly uncertain, and picking up on the less than friendly glances they were giving her companion. "I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met properly before-"

"My name is Hodges," Said the taller gentleman again, who seemed to be the principle speaker for the two, "Victor Hodges, and this is Arnold Whently. The last time we were at one of your parents' events was about three, maybe four years ago? We disappeared off the radar for a little while – we had to really," he laughed, "We pretty much went into hiding right away, after You-Know-Who came back."

Hermione tried very hard to not let her shock show, but she failed miserably having just taken a sip of her drink and choking on it almost immediately.

"I'm sorry?" She spluttered, wondering if she could have truly heard correctly.

"Yes," Victor continued, "We do a lot of business with Muggles, and I was often in an out of the Ministry. I would have been putting an awful lot of innocent Muggles in danger if I hadn't have gone underground, I believe. It was as much for others' safety as mine that I went into hiding."

Hermione regained her composure and smiled, "It's lovely to meet you, properly." She told him.

"And you," Arnold finally joined the conversation, "It's such an honour to be able to shake your hand. And thank you, for everything you've done for our world. It's truly wonderful to share this evening in the company of the fearless Gryffindor Princess."

"Thank you," Hermione smiled, not knowing what else to say, "I'm sorry, will you excuse me?"

Without waiting for a response Hermione walked calmly away, in the direction of the Anteroom - it closer than the main exit into the hall. Slipping through the doors, she leaned against the wall and took a deep breath – never in a million years would she have thought to meet other Wizards here!

"Are you alright, Miss?" A voice asked, and Hermione looked over to see a waiter looking at her questioningly. Immediately she smiled,

"Perfectly fine," she assured him, "Would you pour me a Scoth please. On the rocks, thanks."

The waited nodded and poured the drink at the same time that Draco came into the room with a concerned frown. "Are you okay?" He asked her, as the waiter handed over her drink, before leaving the room with his newly filled tray of mixed drinks he'd been organising.

"I'm fine, I just didn't expect that," she admitted. "Who the hell expects a couple of Wizards to pop up in the middle of a Muggle soirée?" Hermione heard the note of hysteria creeping into her voice and she took a large gulp of her drink.

"This is ridiculous," she said suddenly, the true folly of the evening finally falling upon her. "This whole thing is ridiculous." She turned to look at Draco, "When I think of how I spent last Christmas, where I was this time last year. Everything that happened between then and now." Suddenly she felt a lump form in her throat, the prickling at the corners of her eyes, and she knew she needed something a little stronger than the scotch she was cradling.

She shook her head, "These people have no idea. All these Muggles in the room, they have no idea how much danger they were in. And even the two Wizards, they have no idea what I went through so that they could sleep safe at night. And I feel awful; it feels wrong to be here, celebrating, in such a ridiculous charade."

Draco took a step towards her and place his hands comfortingly on Hermione's arms, rubbing up and down as she continued to rant:

"The amount of people who gave their lives, for these people here, and they haven't got a clue! Fred, Remus & Dora – it's Teddy's first Christmas and his parents never got to celebrate it with them, because they died for the ignoramuses out there. I spent last Christmas in the middle of a fricking forest, on the run, with only Harry." Hermione laughed bitterly, took a deep calming breath and looked up to see Draco simply staring at her, not bothering to conceal his concern.

She smiled at him, "I'm bored of champagne, and I'm bored of this party. I have some excellent Firewhiskey down in the cellar-room. Would you care to join me?" She asked.

"Won't people get suspicious, seeing us leave together?" Draco smirked.

"You don't think I'm going back in there do you?" She asked, mirroring his smirk, "Follow me."

Hermione led him to the other side of the room and through another door, which led into the billiards room. From there they went out into the hallway and down the flights of stairs into the kitchen, which was mercifully empty – the caterers having packed up and left thirty minutes ago.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to say it, Granger." Draco said, as Hermione opened the door to the cellar, "But isn't drinking down in the cellar a little bit…" He seemed to struggle for the right word so Hermione cut him off.

"Can you at least reserve judgment until you see the room?" She scolded, pushing him through the door first and following a step behind, pulling the door closed behind her.

"Wow," Draco said as he stepped off the least step into the room, "My bad, this is quite the room." He commended.

"Thank you," Hermione smiled, "Feel free to inspect the wine – let me know if we have any of yours." She added with a smirk and Draco chuckled.

Draco looked over the shelves as Hermione grabbed a bottle of Firewhiskey and walked over to the bar to collect a couple of glasses, before seating herself on the couch with her back to the rest of the room.

When Draco sat beside her, she had already poured two glasses, kicked off her shoes and removed her gloves, which were thrown unceremoniously onto the table.

Draco had removed his blazer and tie, placing them over the arm of the other couch, and was unfastening his top bottom as he leaned back into the couch cushions, frowning at Hermione.

"What on earth are you doing?" He asked her as she began to pull her dress up her thigh, so that the split that ran down from her knee now started much higher. Not that Draco was complaining about the view, it just seemed like a strange thing to be doing.

Hermione grinned and Draco heard the sound of Velcro being pulled apart, as Hermione pulled out her wand.

"I've had it strapped to my leg all night," She explained, as Draco chuckled.

Hermione picked up her drink, "What shall we drink to?" She said.

"To money," Draco declared, and Hermione snorted, "Where would be without it?" He finished.

"Alright," She conceded and drained her glass.

"Easy, girl. We don't want you passing out." Draco smirked.

"Please, I'm a Granger. We know how to hold our liquor." Hermione said, placing her glass on the table.

"Is that so," Draco said as he poured another.

"To Harry Potter," Hermione said, raising her glass again, "For killing Voldemort and saving the world."

"To Hermione Granger," Draco countered, "For making sure he didn't die in the process."

Hermione laughed loudly at that, "Ha!I tried, but even I can't control the sod all the time." She said, adding when she saw confusion flit across his eyes: "Never mind, it's complicated. To Draco Malfoy, for keeping me relatively sane during this charade of an evening."

After a few more toasts, some more serious than others, the pair lapsed into an easy, momentary silence, broken soon enough by Draco.

"So, tell me." He said, looking seriously at her, "What were you doing all last year? Where did you go? You've often dropped a few little hints, here and there, usually you don't mean to, but you did. And there were a lot of rumours: a Ministry break in, and Gringotts raid. Yet, you seemed to have just disappeared off the face of the earth. And earlier this evening, you said Bellatrix gave you crucial information without realising it, what was that?"

Hermione sighed, then smiled, "Firstly, we didn't disappear, we were just really good at hiding." She poured herself another glass, and topped up Draco's without question, to give her some time before answering. How much could she tell him? How much did she want to tell him? And how much did he actually already know?

"After the Ministry fell, last July, we – that is to say, Harry, Ron and I – fled to Harry's house in London. It was passed to him from his Godfather, and it had many enchantments upon it, so it was a fairly safe haven. We stayed in there about a month, up until our escape out of the Ministry."

"So you did break into the Ministry?" Draco said, and Hermione nodded.

"Potter was being hunted as the most wanted criminal, and you were wanted for not presenting yourself to the Ministry for registration. Yet you decided to waltz into the Ministry of Magic?" He asked incredulously, and Hermione couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"It didn't strike you as an incredibly stupid thing to do?" He pressed.

Hermione shrugged, "Yes, it did. But unfortunately, it was incredibly necessary to do at the time. We needed something that Dolores Umbridge had on her person at the time. But we'd spent a good month planning the operation." She defended.

"And how did that go?" Draco asked sceptically, remembering her choice of phrasing earlier: they had escaped, which suggested something went wrong.

Hermione laughed again, "It went like most of our plans." She admitted, "It completely unravelled at step one. We obviously didn't go in looking like ourselves – Ron became some maintenance guy, who's wife was on trial for her blood status that day – flaw number one right there as we didn't know this vital piece of information. When we got in there, we ended up separated as far away from each other as we could possibly be. Though luckily I ended up with Umbridge, Harry managed to make his way down to me in the courtrooms. But things just went from bad to worse, in a spectacular fashion - I have no idea what came over him but Harry thought it would be a good idea to curse Umbridge, I stole the necklace from her, replacing it with a fake, while he unchained the woman currently standing trial, yelling that they were all free to go." Hermione shook her head and laughed as she relived the memory in her head,

"It was utter chaos! When we made it up to the Atrium, Ron finally makes it back to us, still in disguise, and it turned out the woman whom Harry had just unchained was married to the man Ron was impersonating, so she threw herself at him, while all the other Muggle borns are escaping. Meanwhile, the polyjuice is wearing off and suddenly Harry Potter and Hermione Granger are standing there. So we run like hell back to the fireplaces, which they're sealing off, and as we come back out and disappearate back to Harry's some employee grabs my ankle." Hermione's voice became serious once again and the laughter died,

"We made it to the house in one piece, but as soon as we stopped I apparated us away again, and got rid of the guy tailing us. When we landed in the forest, Ron was splinched really bad, but we managed to patch him up. After that, we were living in a tent, living off things we could forage for. I had some Muggle money with me, so we could buy a few provisions every now and then, but mostly we tried to stay away from civilisation. And we never stayed in the same place longer than twenty-four hours, unless we had to." Hermione finished.

"But what were you doing? Apart from hiding, why did you risk entering the Ministry, what was so important about the object you took from Umbridge?"

Hermione chewed her lip, not sure how much she wanted to share, and she looked at Draco thoughtfully, causing him to shift uncomfortably.

"What's wrong?" He asked warily.

"Nothing, I'm just wondering how much I could, or should tell you." She answered honestly, "This stuff, what we did, it's not something that needs to be public knowledge. Truth be told, it probably should be kept as much a secret as possible."

Draco smiled, "You can be assured of my secrecy, if that's what you're worried about. I won't tell a soul, I swear it." He finished in sincerity, topping up their drinks, which once again had emptied.

"But you don't have to tell me, either, if you don't want." He added, placing the almost empty bottle back on the table, and leaning back.

Eventually Hermione spoke, rather slowly, "There were certain things, binding Voldemort to life. Before we could fight him and finish him, we first needed to find these objects and destroy them." She said, deciding to give some information only, "While on the run, we were going through everything we knew, trying to find possible locations for the remaining objects."

"These objects," Draco said slowly, "Would one be the Horcrux you mentioned a few months ago?"

"Crap, I forgot I let that slip." She said, "Yeah, they would. Except they're horcruxes – plural. Though whether that's the correct term I don't know, as they have never existed in the plural before." Hermione added.

"Okay, I have no idea what you're talking about – I tried to look for the term in so many books, but I had no idea where the hell to start, or what I was really looking for." Draco admitted and Hermione shook her head.

"There are no books in Hogwarts that talk about them. I have the only books that describe them, I summoned them from Dumbledore's study the night after his funeral."

"You stole from the headmaster before he was cold in his grave?" Draco asked, astounded.

"It wasn't like that!" Hermione defended. "I knew the books had been removed from the library, I strongly suspected Dumbledore would still have had them, and we needed to know what we were up against. I felt no qualms in summoning them, because I knew that if he were alive and I would have asked to read them, Dumbledore would have let me." Hermione finished defiantly.

Draco was silent for a moment, and then shrugged, "Whatever, you still stole from a dead guy."

Hermione responded by throwing a pillow at him, before pouring the rest of the bottle into Draco's glass and summoning a new one to top up her own.

"But seriously, how could you be so sure he would have let you?" Draco asked.

"Because in the year before he died, he made sure Harry – and therefore Ron and Myself – had as much information about what needed to be done as possible. He would hardly have refused if I asked for the extra information."

Draco stared intently into his glass, "You speak as if he knew he was going to be murdered." And the torment was thick in his voice once again.

Hermione looked sadly at Draco. Of course, he had no idea what had really happened that evening, even Harry had only found out the true nature of events back in June.

"He wasn't murdered." Hermione said consolingly and Draco looked up, incredulity plastered across his features.

"I was there, I remember," he said bitterly.

Hermione nodded, "Dumbledore knew he was going to die. He knew what Voldemort had told you to do, and he had planned for Severus to do it instead. Furthermore, about the same time you were given your task, Dumbledore came across a Horcrux and when he touched it he unleashed the curse upon it. Do you remember his blackened hand?" She asked him, and Draco nodded,

"Severus managed to temporarily contain the curse, but it was going to kill him in less than a year." She told him.

"How do you know all this?" Draco breathed, and Hermione could see he longed to believe her.

"Severus gave Harry his memories while he lay dying," Hermione decided to be completely truthful; she felt Draco deserved that at the very least, as it seemed Dumbledore's death had plagued more than anyone knew.

"Through them Harry learnt the truth about many things, one of which was the true nature of Dumbledore's death: Dumbledore always intended for Severus to be the one to draw his wand against him, not you. He knew you could never do it, and he never wanted you to even attempt it. Harry saw it all as well," She added, "He was on the tower, in his invisibility cloak and he saw you lower your wand. From that moment on, Harry, and me as well, we knew you were doing what you were doing because you had to. Not because you wanted to." Hermione finished.

Draco looked up from his glass, he looked as if he wanted to speak, but words seem to fail him. Finally, he spoke, his voice horse and strained with emotion.

"I didn't have a choice-" Draco started and then cleared his throat before he gulped down the full glass of Firewhiskey.

"You don't have to explain-" Hermione began, unconsciously edging closer to him on the couch, but Draco cut her off.

"Yes, I do," He said, in an almost strangled whisper. He cleared his voice again, and continued to speak with more conviction, "That's bullshit, I did have a choice, but I made the wrong one, the weak one." Draco took a deep breath and finally voiced the thoughts that had been plaguing his conscience for years.

"My father drilled his beliefs into me constantly as I was growing up. It never occurred to me to disagree, as everything he said appeared to me to be true: Malfoys are pure-bloods, that's why we are where we are, we're the best. The purer the blood, the better – muggles and muggle-lovers were the lowest of the low – they would never be anything spectacular, they could never rise as high as us. Being pure-blood made you superior in every way – money, talent, intelligence, the pure bloods had it all." He reached for the Firewhiskey and topped up his glass, as Hermione listened silently.

He took a drink and continued, "Then I went to Hogwarts, and this ridiculously bossy know-it-all-Gryffindor challenged every belief my father had instilled in me - " Draco looked up at Hermione with something close to awe in his gaze.

"You're a muggle-born yet you were better than everyone in our year: you got the highest grades, you picked up new spells the quickest, you never brewed a potion incorrectly. At first I thought I just wasn't applying myself hard enough, I was taking too much for granted, so in my second and third year I upped my studying, but you still continued to beat me, it was infuriating."

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Hermione found it difficult to quell her small laugh, at which Draco smirked,

"But you were just one anomaly," He continued, "and my father was still constantly drilling into me these 'truths' he believed in. My mother seemed to believe the same to a degree, but it wasn't until Voldemort's return that I realised how the two differed: my father was fanatical, he pretty much hero-worshipped Voldemort, my mother not-so-much, she was very wary of him and of his regime. She would never have gotten in so deep if it wasn't for her sister and her husband – if only she had been more drawn to her other sister, maybe I would have turned out different." Draco took another large mouthful of whiskey, and then carried on, as Hermione listened with rapt attention.

"A year after his return, Voldemort came out into the open at the Ministry – you'll remember, you were there," Hermione nodded, setting her glass down on the table, too involved in his narrative to drink.

Draco continued: "By that time, my mother was so far into the regime thanks to my father, that I was of course stuck in there as well. I was the perfect pawn to play as a way of punishing my father for his mistakes that caused such a fiasco in the Department of Mysteries. I had my doubts about Voldemort's ideas, the same as my Mother, and I think he knew that. He intended me to die, I'm sure of it. But I was fifteen, I couldn't disobey my parents, and I certainly couldn't disobey Voldemort, so I ended up branded with the Dark Mark, and given the ultimate task of murdering Dumbledore – the youngest person to ever receive such an honour" Draco said with sarcasm, as he drained yet another glass.

Before she could stop herself, Hermione asked quietly, "Can I see it?"

Draco stared at her, "Sorry?" He wasn't sure if he was hearing correctly, Hermione moved closer to him, and reached toward his left arm,

"Your Mark. Can I see it?" She almost whispered, looking at Draco directly in the eyes.

Without breaking eye contact Draco nodded slowly, unbuttoned his left shirtsleeve, and began to roll it up his forearm. Hermione tore her gaze away from his eyes and focused on his arm. Without thinking, she leaned closer, tentatively took his arm in her right hand, and began to trace the outline of the Dark Mark with the fingers of her left hand.

Draco inhaled at her touch: no one had ever touched his mark, and no one had ever touched him as delicately, or tenderly, as he was being touched right now. Her fingers sent tingles down his spine, and he held his breath as his heart rate accelerated slightly.

"It's faded," Hermione stated simply, too intrigued by Draco's scar, and blissfully unaware of the arousing effect she was currently having upon him, "It's barely more than a faint outline now."

"Yeah," he agreed in a croak, Draco cleared his throat and tried to talk again more clearly, "Yeah, it faded pretty quick when he died – maybe in a few years it could disappear altogether. Then I won't have to keep my arms covered at all time." He said sounding slightly hopeful.

Hermione smiled, "At least your scar is disappearing quicker than mine" she said sadly. Draco, who had been watching her face intently the entire time she was examining his arm, looked to her left arm, took it in his hand and turned it gently over, to display the word his deranged aunt had carved there.

He traced a finger lightly over the bumps of the letters, "I am so sorry" Draco whispered feelingly, yet again and Hermione looked up with a smile.

"I know-" She began as she transferred her gaze, but she cut off when she realised how close the two of them had become.

Her breathing hitched and her pulse quickened: Draco's face was barely an inch away from hers, his gaze returned to hers and within seconds she was transfixed, staring into the swirling silver pools of his eyes – no longer cool and masked, now they were brimming with emotions, too many to name.

Draco didn't think – at that moment he was incapable of any form of coherent thought: all he knew at that moment was that Hermione's lips were right there within touching distance and he wanted nothing more than to taste them. Without pausing to think he leaned forward, inching closer.

Hermione didn't even think of the consequences, all she could think was how close Draco was, and how easy it would be to close the distance and finally feel his lips against hers. So when he edged forward ever so slightly, almost warily, Hermione had no hesitation of closing the gap and meeting his lips with hers.

The kiss was tentative at first, but when each felt the other respond neither hesitated to deepen it. Hermione melted instantly: she brought her hands up around Draco's neck, as he snaked his around her back, each pulling the other closer. Draco traced Hermione's lips with his tongue, eliciting a moan that made him want her even more, and Hermione parted her lips, allowing him to explore her mouth. She wound her hands in his hair, bringing him even closer and pressing her body into his. The responsible side of her brain had been long numbed by the Firewhiskey they had consumed, and giving up her last moral she leaned back into the couch, pulling Draco down with her.

A/N: Finally! We have some real Dramione action...well, a little bit anyway.

Let me know what you guys think, thank you to all my readers, to everyone who has added the story to their favourites and their alerts. I'll be cracking on with the next chapter in the morning, but a fair amount is already written, so it hopefully shouldn't be a long wait.

xBx