Christmas was approaching Hogwarts. Snow was swirling against the frosted windows and Hagrid was already on the out-skirts of the forbidden forest, on his way to cut down the twelve Christmas trees that would soon after adorn the Great Hall. In a few short weeks festivities galore would be sweeping the castle, and the atmosphere would bring with it a much needed break for those within its walls. A breath of fresh-festive air was exactly what those whose lives had come to revolve around revision were in need of.

Harry in particular was looking forward to the Christmas holidays, even though they were still over a week away. It was going to be his first proper holiday at Grimmauld place. This time it was him and Sirius with the house to themselves; the future he'd been longing for since promised such in his third year. Now that promise was finally on the horizon and the hint of normality to his over-complicated life was an exciting one. Considering his free-time these days were spent either revising, worrying over women or the future of the wizarding world, it was nice to have something to look forward to on the horizon. For the first time in weeks, he actually felt reasonably content with life.

His friends timetable were so full he could only talk to them on fleeting occasions; this was one of those times. Hermione refused to sit in the common room while Ron was there, so Harry had joined her in the library, which meant that their conversations where now held in quiet whispers. They were only a table away from where he and Daphne used to revise together, unfortunately the stark difference in company stopped him feeling any of the nostalgia that should come with that.

"He's perfectly at liberty to kiss whomever he likes!"

He didn't answer, and pretended to be absorbed in a certain potions book he had recently taken a liking to. Determined to remain friends with both parties, he was spending a lot of time with his mouth tightly shut.

Apparently, at the same time Harry and Tracey had been having their heart-to-heart discussion, a lot had been going on elsewhere in the castle. He'd been given a brief, mostly-shouted catch up, but his basic understanding was in the aftermath of Ron's Quidditch victory he'd gotten off with Lavender Brown, and the two were now seeing each other, much to Hermione's displeasure. Whether or not the two had been seeing each other before the match and this was just when it came out, he couldn't tell, and wasn't about to start pushing for more information.

The worst part - why he kept mostly to himself - was Harry were actually quite proud of his best-friend for overcoming his women-fears. He felt bad that he hadn't had the chance to congratulate him for it, but that feeling quickly soured as he spent the last hour listening to Hermione tell him exactly why she wasn't jealous about it. At this point even Harry felt mad at Ron for seeing somebody else, and had already grown the dislike Lavender, despite not ever actually sharing a conversation with her.

"I really couldn't care less, and you are more than welcome to tell him that next time you see him. In fact, I employ you to!"

"I am not an owl..." he mumbled jokingly into the pages of his book.

Hermione gave him a nasty look, he pretended not to see it.

"Does wolfsbane bloom only during a full moon or just whenever in Autumn?"

When he spoke, it came with a slightly hoarse-cracking of his voice, as would be expected after over an hour of humming and nodding. She shot him another dirty look.

"Harry, would you get your nose out of that book for just one second?"

"I'm listening to you! I am! Just revising as well."

"You ought to start paying more attention to what goes on around you, you know."

"Come on," he scoffed at her, "Can't you just be happy I'm actually interested in a subject beyond Defence Against the Dark Arts for once?"

"Hmhmm…"

She mused him bitterly.

"If I'd known you'd be so readily seduced by an annotated textbook, you know I'd have let you read mine after lesson?"

"Do you also change things the books say and invent your own spells in the margins?"

Hermione shook her head dismissively. She then took out and unraveled a second roll of parchment onto the table they were working on and began scratching away with her quill, Harry watched her with his mind long away.

"Anyway… that tatty book wasn't what I was talking about. We're being watched, just so you know."

Harry stopped dead.

The second she'd finished speaking, he'd heard the unmistakable sound of a book falling from a shelf, followed by the pitter-patter of footsteps leading away from it. Hermione had heard it too, but merely watched him with a bemused expression. Harry's eyes shifted behind him, where he found no evidence of any on-looker, outside from a face-down book now adorning the ground.

When he turned back to his conversation, the bushy-haired girl sighed at him.

"Her name is Dominique Flamel, she transferred in from Beauxbatons earlier in the year."

He knew instantly of who she was talking about, he remembered Hagrid introducing her by name. Dominique Flamel - she was the Slytherin girl that Tracey was with when they found Katie Bell had been cursed. They'd only met briefly and, despite possibly being on a date with Tracey (he had no intention of asking for clarification about that), she seemed quite taken with him. Even he, in his obliviousness with girls, could tell that.

But that wasn't why he peaked his eyebrow, or why he leaned in to ask for a double-clarification.

"What's she called?"

Hermione nodded knowingly, instantly picking up what he was asking.

"Flamel. It's been quite a while since we heard that name... She is the great-great, great-great-great-great, great-great-great-granddaughter of Nicolas Flamel, creator of the Philosopher's Stone…" she paused for several breaths along the way, "and she also fancies you, in case that wasn't obvious. She's new so I can only imagine your womanizer reputation hasn't reached her yet. Apparently she's trying to get you to ask her to Slughorn's Christmas party... Poor girl doesn't know what she has coming."

Harry forced out the most unironic, displeased laugh he was capable of.

"I've had quite enough of Slytherin girls for one lifetime, thank you."

The last thing he needed was another factor piling itself onto the romantic paradox he'd boxed himself into. He was now at the point he was convinced he was never going to date again, and if he did, the very last person he'd be considering was someone else in Slytherin house.

Hermione gave a long, drawn out sigh.

"Since you seem completely unresponsive when I try to talk about my problems… How is it going with Greengrass, anyway?"

Harry eyeballed her. Her tone had been off all day, but he couldn't quite figure out if she was trying to start an argument or genuinely trying to shift the subject matter. Deciding to risk it, he offered a genuine response.

"What you saw at Slughorns was it. Still won't talk to me and won't tell me why. Tracey agrees with me she's up to something, and we both think Malfoy is involved... To what degree, we don't know yet. But it means that that we saw in Knocturn Alley wasn't all just in my head, thank you very much for your support on that."

Hermione lifted her head from her scroll and frowned at him.

"Tracey Davis?"

Harry stared back at her. Of all things he expected her to pull him up on in that sentence, a clarification over Tracey's name was not it.

"Yeah. We've become mates," he answered.

After a second, he decided to change his wording.

"... we play Qudditch together, sometimes. She's funny."

Hermione nodded, returning her concentration to her essay.

"Ah yes, I saw her losing against you last match… You ought to know I haven't heard good things about her... I reiterate, you should watch yourself."

It was Harry's turn to frown.

"What's wrong with her?"

"I haven't the faintest, Harry," she answered again in that same matter-of-fact-tone she had become known for, "I just know a lot of girls in our year don't like her."

"Any of those reasons that aren't the fact that she's in Slytherin?"

"I imagine the fact that she's best friends with one of the most-hated girls in our year isn't enough?"

Harry didn't have an answer. Hermione shot him a follow-up I-told-you-so glance.

In truth, he had his own reasons for not wanting to trust Tracey, but he very much doubted Hermione knew her well enough for them to be talking about the same ones.

Then again, it couldn't be ignored that their recent talk had done a lot for him. He'd come out of it with nothing but positive thoughts, even though the subject matter itself had been a deathly-serious one. It had been refreshing talking to someone who wasn't about to declare him paranoid or jealous; in that regard, Tracey had been a better friend to him of late than either Ron or Hermione had.

Finally he had a point of reference with where he stood, he knew he wasn't insane, and that his fears had been valid.

Harry shifted around on his seat.

"Right. Any other Slytherin-girls-in-our-year-that-are-out-to-get-me you wanna to warn me about?"

"None else that I am aware of. Though one from Gryffindor, actually; word on the corridor is Romilda Vane is trying to sneak you a love potion. At this point if you can make things up with Cho, you'll have quite a nice little harem going for you."

Her voice indicated a joke, only she wasn't smiling.

Whenever he and Daphne used to study together like this, he never remembered it being quite as hostile.

"Which corridor is it you're getting all this information from, exactly?" he quickly shot back.

"I barely see you these days, and suffice to say it takes my utmost effort to even tolerate being in the same room as Ronald… I've expanded my boundaries and began speaking to people outside our usual social circle. Turns out to have been quite an enlightening experience. Did you know Hannah Abbot is seeing a muggle girl that her parents don't know about?"

Harry struggled internally. He couldn't quite figure out if they are arguing or not right now. Hermione's tone would definitely indicate so. Plus he'd said stuff to her he would never normally have the gaul to say aloud, yet she seemed completely preoccupied writing her essay and likewise, he didn't feel any animosity in the air.

"Right, so don't trust Daphne, don't trust Tracey, avoid Dominique and Romilda, got it," he counted them off on his fingers, "Anything else in my life you want to comment on?"

At that moment Madam Pince, appeared around the corner and entered their conversation bubble. She crossed quickly over to them, wearing an expression as old and decrepit as the books on her shelves.

"Library is closed! Out, Mr Potter! Hope to see you again, Miss Granger."

She turned to Harry, and her face turned more sour, if possible.

"What have you done to that book?"

Harry hastily snatched up his potions book, just as the Madam made a lunge for it with her claw-like hand.

"It's mine! Not the libraries! Calm down!"

She considered him for a second, squinting, before sulking off back around the corner away from them. Hermione's concentration broke from her essay so she could send another dirty look, this time to the book in his hands.

"... please do return that ratty old thing, Harry. I can smell the Horklump juice on it from here."

Harry grimaced and protectively pulled the book closer to him, as though shielding it's ears away from her hurtful words. Hermione moved her book bag onto the table and began to gather her things.

"Why's she kicking us out early?" he asked.

"I was just finishing, actually. Timing couldn't have been more perfect."

He frowned at her.

"You just started?"

Hermione frowned back at him, scanned the room with her eyes and then gestured to a clock in the corner.

"We've been here nearly two hours, Harry."

He paused and blinked a few times.

So they had been.

He made haste to collect his bits and pieces together, and then hurried off after Hermione and she began to make her way to the library exit.

"I'm going to talk to Sirius about the book, and about Daphne. He knows my situation with Dumbledore. Hope everything works out with you and Ron."

Hermione didn't vocally answer, or give any form of recognition, but he felt her gratitude all the same. Together the two made their way out of the libraries exit and out into the deserted, torch-lit corridors. Enjoying the fact that they could speak normally again, Hermione spoke up.

"Speaking of which, we mentioned earlier, do you happen to have a date for Slughorn's party?"

"Depends if you're asking me?"

"I'm not," she laughed, "I've already said yes to someone. Sorry to break your heart."

Harry smiled and played along. He false gasped.

"Whatever will I do now?"

Hermione smirked back at him.

"You have a plethora of thirsty fangirls to choose from, you'll manage just fine, I'm sure."

"So who're you going with?"

With an eye-roll, Hermione said, "Don't make me say it."

"Victor Krum coming to pay us a visit, by any chance?"

"Do you think if Victor was an option that I'd still be bitching over Ron?"

The second the words left her mouth, she looked away in embarrassment. If Harry had to guess, she had just exposed what she thought was a very well-kept secret. Deciding to spare her the shame, he moved on like he hadn't heard her.

"I thought bringing a date was optional, anyway. I didn't have anyone in mind."

"Of course it's optional... I just can't imagine it being a good look for you if everyone else there brings someone and you don't. The Slug Club is a surprisingly respected networking event. You know he's got Skye Parkin guesting-talking?"

Harry nodded.

"I've heard."

He thought on it for another second.

He really didn't care for their choice of conversation, but Hermione had a good point. Dumbledore wanted him in Slughorns good books, good impressions were everything. Not to mention the idea of turning up on his own didn't thrill him.

"I'll probably just ask Luna, or something? Honestly, the last thing I want to think about right now is trying to find a date."

"Why not just ask Greengrass?" she asked. "She'll be going anyway?"

Harry shot her a glance.

"You really don't understand the situation I'm in with her, do you? She won't even talk to me, Hermione."

"Well, I do know you're not going to get anywhere by staying quiet and letting her walk all over you. Trust me... I'm still adjusting to that truth myself."

Her tone dropped with her last line, and as they crossed onto the seventh floor, she gave him a sympathetic shrug.

"I doubt Greengrass is going with anyone, anyway... half the school is scared to death of her. People are still talking about her fight with Pansy last year. Can't imagine breaking your nose on our first day back helped matters, either."

"It wasn't her, for the last time!"

"What the rumours decide is true isn't up to you, Harry," she shook her head. "I know I've not really been there for you the past few weeks, but that is my advice… as late as it may be. You're already going to be seeing her at the party anyway, you might as well try to get on good terms. Who knows, maybe she'll be there without a date, you'll be there without a date… And everything will just work itself out."

A growing distaste in Harry's stomach that was making itself ever present.

"Can we not talk about this anymore? I know you're just trying to help but… it's a bit late, and I've already had this conversation with somebody else. I could honestly do without thinking about her right now."

As they reached the Fat Lady, Harry spoke the new festive-themed password to the Fat Lady and the portrait clicked upon before them. As he entered the passage-way, he realised he was walking alone now.

"Are you not coming in?"

Hermione tried to peer past him into the common room. She shifted on the spot uncomfortably.

"Are they done yet?"

His eyes moved up the corridor, where low and behold, he spotted Ron and Lavender Brown sitting entwined on the same chair in front of the fireplace. He turned back to Hermione, awkwardly, and bobbed his head.

She gave a dishevelled sigh.

"Then... I'll be in the Great Hall, reading."

"At six o'clock?"

Hermione waved him off and began down the corridor on her own.

"See you when I next see you, Harry."

Something in her voice wanted him to go after her. Something else in it told him that was a bad idea.

Alone, Harry crossed into the common room and was welcomed by the warm glow of the festively-themed fireplace. His entry hadn't gone unnoticed, Ron looked up at him from their position, while Lavender simply giggled harder.

Ron frowned at him.

"Hermione not with you?"

Harry gave a low-effort shrug back towards the corridor.

"She's in the Great Hall, reading."

Lavender stopped her giggling, and answered for Ron.

"At six o'clock?"

He offered little more than a nod and made his way up to the boys dorm. The sight of the two cuddling together did just as much bad for him as it had Hermione, which he hadn't expected. He had nothing against Lavender personally, and nothing but happiness for Ron. Yet his stomach had churned and he felt awkward on his own feet.

In truth it probably wasn't seeing the two of them together that had bugged him. Seeing anyone together would have probably set him off.

He had a lot to look forward to these coming holidays, but he still couldn't shake the lingering, sour taste in his stomach he got whenever Daphne was brought up. His talk with Tracey had done a lot to settle his anxieties, but for every fear it settled, a dozen more had risen in it's place. She was in danger, and carrying on his life while he knew that just felt immoral on so many levels.

Was his opinion bias because he still had feelings for her? Most definitely. Would he have put up with getting thrown through so many hoops if it was anyone else? Definitely not.