This chapter is much more lighthearted, but I think it's a nice change of pace!

*Checking my emails...* Nope. Still haven't acquired ownership... maybe next time?

Chapter 10

The next few weeks were by far the strangest in Hermione's entire Hogwarts experience, at least in terms of her relationship with Harry and Ron. She was still avoiding Ron and had successfully managed to speak no more than a terse handful of words to him in the entire time. Her reasons for avoiding him were sound and they were plentiful, but there were two that stood out above the rest.

The first reason was that she was still mad at him for how he had trampled her feelings the night of the Gryffindor versus Slytherin match. He had yet to apologize, if for nothing else than barging in on her crying and Harry trying to comfort her, only to ignore his friend's distress in favor of snogging his *gag* girlfriend.

The other, more central reason for ignoring Ron was owing to the fact that he and Lavender had taken to snogging one another all over the castle. One could hardly move through the school without happening upon them in an empty classroom, a shadowy alcove, or atop any free piece of furniture they could find in the Common Room. It turned Hermione's stomach to see the two of them hanging all over one another and had made any romantic feelings she'd once harbored for Ron turn to ash in her mouth within days.

"Of course," she had said to Harry one day as they walked down to the greenhouses for Herbology, watching disapprovingly as Lavender dragged Ron ahead of them, "I still love him as a friend. As soon as he gets his head out of his arse and his tongue out of Lavender's mouth, I'll still be here. I'll always be his friend; I have too much affection for him, and we have too much history together, for us to be anything other than friends. But I am not going to be the one to make the first move this time, Harry. I refuse, and I deserve better than that," she finished, sniffing daintily and ignoring Harry's look of frustration.

The following morning at breakfast, they had both tried their hardest to avoid looking at Ron who sat several places down the table. The gangly redhead was currently stuffing his mouth full of sausages while trying to maneuver around Lavender, who was clinging tightly to his arm. Harry looked at Hermione pleadingly.

"Come on, 'Mione. Wouldn't it be so much easier if we were all able to move past this? I can talk to Ron, try to convince him to keep Lavender out of the way whenever the three of us are together."

She saw the pleading in his familiar green eyes and felt slightly guilty at how much this was wearing on her best friend. To be honest, though, she was perfectly content right now. Of course, she missed spending time with Harry and Ron together; she missed going down to visit Hagrid and having tea together, just the four of them, and she missed their formerly unbreakable bond (which currently felt rather fractured; at least, between herself and Ron).

"I'm sorry, Harry. But at the moment I'm happy to study and help you research whatever comes up in your lessons with Professor Dumbledore. Until Ron decides to grow up, I can do all of that for you without being around him. Besides," she added, "I don't mind spending time alone in the library. I've been getting loads done."

That wasn't fully true, of course. She had a secret, but she would not allow herself to feel guilty about it. She had come to realize that she truly enjoyed spending time with Draco in the Room of Requirement. They hadn't been in the Room of Hidden Things, with that blasted Cabinet looming over them, since the day after the Quidditch match, but instead chose to spend their evenings together in their own personal version of the library that the Room had provided for them.

Most of the time they worked on their homework together, putting their heads together to work their way through difficult assignments, and sometimes they simply worked side by side in silence, enjoying the novelty of one another's company. Other times they would sit quietly and read. Hermione had even gotten Draco to read some of her favorite Muggle books that she had brought with her from home; once he finished a book, they would often engage in some rather lively discussions about them.

They still did plenty of research on things that would potentially help him to survive while he was embroiled in this double-agent position. They would learn new spells together and hone skills that could help to protect him if the worst should happen and he did end up back among the Death Eaters.

Every once in a while, however, when the stresses of his situation began to get to him and he started to fracture under the pressure, or when Hermione had been exposed to a particularly grotesque public display of affection courtesy of Lavender and Ron and couldn't bring herself to focus on school, they would simply curl up in their favorite spots in front of the large, cozy fireplace and just talk. They talked about anything and everything, from childhood memories to lighthearted school moments.

"I remember the day I got my Hogwarts letter," Draco had told her one evening as they sat in the room.

"Mother was so proud, but Father just nodded, saying it was to be expected, of course. I had been doing accidental magic for nearly as long as I could remember, my mother said the first time it had happened I had barely been four years old, but I had been so scared that they would decide that I wasn't magical enough to be allowed in, that I would end up being a squib. The next day, Father came into my room with a present for me. It was a magnificent eagle owl, and I named him Charon. I remember clearly, even though he had continued to reiterate that he had expected nothing less, seeing the look of pride on Father's face, and it made me so happy to make him proud." His voice had become wistful and sad, and Hermione had known that he had been thinking of his father, now sitting in a cold and lonely cell in Azkaban and likely a mere shadow of the man he had been before.

Hermione, in turn, told him all about the day that she had discovered that magic was real. She told him how Professor McGonagall had appeared on her doorstep and, over the course of an hour or so, had explained to a flabbergasted Alan and Jean Granger, along with an ecstatic eleven-year-old Hermione, that their 'gifted' daughter was actually a witch. All of the things that had just seemed to happen around Hermione for years, things that no one else had ever really been able to explain, had finally made sense. There was a reason why she had always been so…different.

She told him how she had proceeded to pester her parents for hours after McGonagall had left until, exasperated with their exuberant young daughter, they had agreed to take her into Diagon Alley that very weekend to get her books. She had read every single one cover to cover twice before boarding the train on September first. Draco had snorted in laughter at this; he hadn't been surprised at all.

Hermione had begun to feel like she could talk to Draco about nearly anything. As much as it shocked her, she felt like they were actually becoming real friends; or at least, they were getting closer to that point. After having not spoken to Ron in nearly a month, and the lessened time spent with Harry as a result, it had been so nice to have someone that she felt like she could just talk to sometimes. They almost never brought up the serious things, but she felt like maybe they were getting there, and she had realized with no small amount of shock that she was beginning to rely on him. Perhaps a bit more than was wise, to be honest, but she couldn't stop it even if she had tried.

Song Inspiration: Count on Me – Bruno Mars

This chapter was a bit more fluff, but I thought it was important in order to help our favorite couple's growth seem a bit more natural, so hopefully you enjoyed a bit of fluffiness!

sbz