At 6:30pm the following evening Draco found himself nervously pacing in front of his mother's fireplace. Earlier that morning he and Hermione had agreed that he would floo to her flat at 6:45pm and then would then apparate together to Pansy's home. He was dressed in muggle clothes, purchased by Pansy, worn at her insistence. He actually didn't mind them, he was surprised to find. The jeans fit well and she'd chosen a dark green jumper over a white shirt to go with them. He was nervous though because he realized no one at the dinner knew that he and Hermione were…whatever it was that they were and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to behave. He'd spent the last ten minutes debating whether or not to floo to her flat early so they could talk about it and had decided against it in case she wasn't dressed though the idea of seeing her undressed had a great deal of appeal so he began to consider going over early again. He was so wrapped up in his pacing and his thoughts that he didn't hear his mother enter the room until she touched his shoulder and he shouted in alarm.

"Merlin mother," he shouted, clutching his heart. "You scared me half to death."

"You are in my room," she pointed out. "Dare I ask why?"

"I'm going to dinner at Pansy's," he reminded her.

"Yes, I know that," Narcissa replied. "But why in Merlin's name are you in my bedroom?"

Draco froze, realizing he hadn't told his mother about his relationship with Hermione. His mother stared at him expectantly.

"I asked Granger to go with me," he said finally. "I've been, er, seeing her. Sort of."

"Of course you see her," Narcissa answered airly. "You work together."

"Not that kind of seeing her," Draco replied uncomfortably.

"You aren't going to work?" Narcissa asked, her eyes wide.

"I am," Draco said distraught. "And I see her at work but I also see her, not at work. Not as a co-worker."

"I'm sorry dear," Narcissa said, fighting to keep the grin off her face. "I don't follow what you're saying."

"I have feelings for her," Draco told her slightly exasperated. "And I'm going to dinner tonight and no one knows and I don't know what to do or how to act and that's why I'm pacing in your bedroom!"

It took all of Narcissa's restraint to not laugh at how distraught her son sounded. "Well I imagine you could just tell them," she replied. "Though I would certainly hope you'd tell them with more tact than you just told me."

"I'm sorry, mother," Draco said wearily. "But Weasley hates me, Blaise's wife thinks I'm an ass, and I don't even think I'm good enough for her so I'm not sure how I'm supposed to face all of them and tell them I care for their friend."

"I'd imagine saying something along those lines ought to do the trick," Narcissa told him with a smile. "My dear boy, does she care for you?"

"I think so," Draco answered. "Though I have no idea why."

"Go tell her what you're feeling," Narcissa said. "Without shouting. Then you can figure it out together."

"So I should go?" Draco asked. "Even though I'm early?"

"You're not early anymore," Narcissa said, pointing to the clock that read 6:45pm.

Draco looked at the clock, hugged his mother quickly, and flooed to Hermione's flat without a second thought.

When he stepped out of the floo, he saw Hermione coming out of the kitchen and he felt the breath leave his body. She was wearing a long, dark red dress that seemed to flow as she walked toward him.

"Hi," she said shyly. "You look very handsome."

"You look…," Draco stopped, unable to finish. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

Hermione blushed at what he said and stopped so she was standing directly in front of him. She must have been wearing heels, he thought, because her lips were closer to his than usual. Unsure, she gave him a tentative kiss on the cheek, which seemed to snap Draco out of his spell and he turned his head so he could kiss her lips properly.

When the kiss broke, Hermione looked at him and rested her hands against his chest. " There's something we should talk about before we go to dinner," she said. "Harry and Ginny are also going to be at dinner."

Draco scowled but replied, "I'll be nice, don't worry."

"Harry, Ron, and Ginny are my best friends," she told him. "I know Blaise is yours. None of them know about...you and I and I'm not sure how to tell them."

Draco felt his stomach sink. "You don't want to tell them," he said quietly. "It's fine when it's just you and I, or walking through St. Mungo's or the Leaky Cauldron surrounded by strangers but as soon as it's someone you know, you can't take it anymore. I understand, I understand who I was, what I did, and I understand that you're ashamed for your friends to know we're together but-"

Hermione threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, and continued to even though he attempted to continue with his speech.

"I was going to ask you if you had any ideas as to how we should tell them," she told him. "I am not ashamed of you, I'm proud of you for who you are now and what you're trying to do. I want them to know Malfoy, I was just hoping you knew a good way how."

Draco looked stunned at her response. "You want to tell them?" he asked dumbly.

"I take it that means you don't have any ideas about how to tell them," she replied. "I suppose right at the beginning would be best, get it out in the open, don't you think?"

When Draco continued to stare at her, Hermione took his silence as acquiescence. "Okay, so we'll tell them as soon as we get there, we should get going, we don't want to be late!"

She dragged the still stunned Draco out her front door and, after locking and double checking the wards, slid her hand in to his. He looked at his long fingers intertwined with her small ones and smiled at her. "Thank you," was all he could manage. Hermione beamed at him in response and they walked to the apparition point and, right before she went to apparate them, Draco kissed her and they disappeared into the night wrapped around each other.

If they had taken a moment to look behind them, they would have seen a shadow pass and make it's way into Hermione's building, looking at them in disgust. Lucius Malfoy would certainly hear about this.