February 2001

Hermione stared at herself in the mirror. She flattened a hand against her hair and sighed. Oliver Wood of all people had asked her on a Valentines date and she had said yes. He'd mentioned the Three Broomsticks and in her mind she'd celebrated that he didn't want to go to Puddifoot's.

She wasn't entirely sure how this had come about if she was being honest. Harry and Ginny had hosted another New Year's party and he had been there. The two talked for a while, she remembered that, and then he had sent her the owl just a couple weeks ago to ask her out.

She had dressed in her warmest dark green robes, slid on a pair of heeled boots, and tried her damndest to tame her hair. With a sigh, she resorted to pinning the front of her hair to the back, trying to lessen the frizz around her cheeks and in turn causing the back side of her hair to appear more round. Bloody hell, she couldn't win.

She turned on her heel away from the mirror and headed to the fireplace in her quarters and grabbing a fistful of floo powder. A shout and a wooshing soon followed and Hermione landed in the Hog's Head. She preferred this route as it meant she didn't land in an overly populated area and could regain her footing without making a fool of herself. Carefully, in the snow and slush, she made her way to the Three Broomsticks where she found Oliver sitting in a booth. He grinned at her, standing as she approached and waving her into the seat across from him.

"Blimey, Hermione, you look good, how've you been?" Oliver smiled warmly as he gestured at her appearance.

"Thank you, you're not too bad off yourself. I've been well, and yourself?" She smiled back.

"It's been good! I just finished a tournament in Scotland-" Oliver began to explain the past couple of Quidditch games he'd been a part of. Hermione kept the smile on her face as she nodded, sipping at the butterbeer Madame Rosmerta had brought over halfway through his retelling. With an inward sigh, she realized that most of the date would be like this. That is, until he stopped yammering and looked at her intently.

"So, how have things been going for you? How's Hogwarts?" He asked, taking a sip of his firewhiskey.

"Oh, it's grand! At first, it was pretty difficult, but the more you work with the students, the more they really open up and respect you and what you're trying to do." She beamed with pride as she gushed about her students.

Without realizing it, the date passed by quickly with the two sharing stories back and forth. At the end of it, Hermione noticed that while she enjoyed talking with Oliver, she didn't think she could see the relationship going any farther than just friends. Their chemistry was just slightly off, in that way that made her stomach feel a little queasy thinking about more intimate situations. As they stood outside the Three Broomsticks, awkwardly prolonging their goodbye, Hermione knew she had to mention it.

"This was really nice, Oliver," she started.

"But it's not quite going to work," he finished for her with a sad sort of smile. "I understand; it's not a big deal, Hermione."

"I'm glad we're on the same page." She smiled softly back at him. "There was just something off even though I enjoyed my time with you."

"Totally agreed. It was good seeing you again, Hermione." And with that, they parted ways, with Hermione headed back to the Hog's Head and Oliver towards the Quidditch Supplies Shop. As Hermione stepped over the threshold of the pub, she spotted a blonde head bowed at the bar.

"Malfoy?" She questioned, sidling up beside him. He tensed, turning to glare at her.

"What are you doing here, Granger?" He spat, before eyeing her up and down. The gesture made her flush and her stomach clenched, different to how it had with Oliver.

"I had a date," she responded simply. His expression darkened further.

"A date," he repeated.

"Yes," she said slowly, reaching up and tugging at a rogue strand of hair. "With Oliver Wood." His eyebrows drew upwards while his mouth remained tight.

"How'd that go, then? Bit of a thing with the Quidditch players, eh?"

"It went well, thank you," she bit back in the same tone, flushing as she recalled her past relationships. He was right; there had been Viktor and Ron, and even Draco himself had shared a moment with her in a fit of passion. "If you must know, we both decided it wasn't quite a match so you can cool it with your attitude about my history in dating and even quick snogs." At this, he drew himself to sit up straighter.

"Quick snogs," he drawled, a hint of the younger Draco breaking through. "Is that what you call it, Granger?"

"Well, yes as a matter of fact, I do. And it won't be happening again, Malfoy."

"I would think it wouldn't. What, with me being such a despicable human being that I would stoop to drugging you in order to snog." His words accompanied by the stiff glare he sent her way gave her pause.

"What are you talking about?"

"I happened to be called into McGonagall's office a week or so after the Yule Ball. Do you know why, Granger?"

"No, Malfoy, otherwise I wouldn't be asking!"

"Well, it appears that rumors had started going around between the students and it had been brought to McGonagall's attention that we had shared - what was it you said? Ah, yes, a quick snog," he sneered. "Apparently, she was under the impression that you would never dare to stoop so low as to be caught in the lap of a Death Eater-"

"Former," she interrupted. He paused, sending her a confused look.

"What?"

"Former Death Eater. You're no longer one," she pointed out. He stared at her, bewildered. Shaking his head, he continued on.

"Well, the point is, is that I was accused of drugging you with Amortentia or even putting you under the Imperious curse." He clenched his jaw when she gasped and stared at him wide eyed. "I was asked to take Veritaserum to prove my innocence, Granger. Forgive me for not welcoming you with open arms, but I'm a bit averse to being submitted to a line of questioning for something I didn't start."

"Malfoy, I'm so sorry, I wasn't aware-"

"No, I'm sure you weren't. Everyone's looking out for you, Granger, but I've only got myself on my side. Do me a favor and stay away so I can keep myself out of trouble. You bloody Gryffindors are always causing it." With that, he stood and strode out the door. She noticed his hands were stuffed in the pockets of his robes, helping the air whip it behind him like a cape.

Her heart ached.

April 2001

"Hermione," The letter from Harry began. Hermione crossed her legs where she sat in the center of her bed, eyes scanning the parchment.

I finally did it! She loved the ring and the whole thing went perfectly, just like you said it would. I can't wait for the wedding; I just want to get it over and done with so I can call Ginny my wife! You've got to be there - Gin wants you to be her maid of honor. I'm so glad I get to be the one to tell you. She's been hounded by her mother all day and asked me to let you know. Reach out as soon as you can! We're excited to hear from you. Take care.

Love,

Harry

Hermione's eyes began to well with tears. Her and Harry had been planning the proposal for months. He had kept the snitch from Dumbledore, placing the ring within it similar to how the Resurrection Stone had been. He waited for a game where Ginny would be playing Seeker and had asked the referee if he could swap the snitch, letting the ref check over the small golden ball for any charms or enchantments. His title as Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived Twice, helped him to achieve this.

Normally, Harry loathed using his status to gain favor, but for this he was extremely thankful.

When Ginny had captured the snitch and ended the game, as Harry knew she would, he had flown out to meet her before she was hounded by her teammates - all of whom were aware of the situation. When he reached her, he gently took the snitch from her hands, brought it to his lips, and held out the ring. Ginny nearly knocked them both to the ground as she lunged to hug him through the air. Thankfully, with Harry's reflexes, he was able to keep a handle on the ring.

Hermione had talked him through it all, giving him tips on how to approach each situation and how to have everyone all on the same page. Even Ron was unaware as he was likely to blab to Mrs. Weasley and then the surprise would be ruined.

Hermione sighed, leaning back against her pillows. Her joy at seeing her two best friends so in love fulfilled at least some of the emptiness in her heart. She couldn't wait for the wedding.

July 2001

Thursday's were the days that Hermione took herself on a date. Today's date was spent going to a movie in muggle London before ice cream at Fortescue's, and then a trip to Flourish and Blott's.

As she finished her lemon cone, she noticed a blonde head duck into Flourish and Blott's. Her heart sank. Of course Malfoy would head into her sanctuary just before she was set to, while they were currently not speaking to each other. He had been avoiding her at Hogwarts and she allowed it. If their roles were reversed, she'd also not be pleased to be questioned as he had been.

She wasn't about to let him keep her from one of her favorite places however. As she popped the end bit of her cone into her mouth, she stood from her seat at the stone patio outside the ice cream shop. Sighing, she stuck her hands in her jeans pockets and headed into the bookshop.

Luckily, at first glance, she didn't spot Draco anywhere so she strolled comfortably to the shelf where they stocked their newly arrived books. As she glanced through the titles, searching for one to catch her eye, she didn't notice the prickle that started along her skin from being watched. Only after she had reached to pick up a book on the goblin massacre of 1872, did she register the feeling and she looked up. Her eyes caught on a pair of familiar grey as they stared her down. He was close enough that she felt comfortable enough calling out to him without drawing too much attention in the store.

"Malfoy," her voice remained quiet in the still tenseness between them. He sneered back at her.

"I figured your personal library was already bursting at the seams, Granger."

"It could always stretch a little here and there," she quipped back. "What are you doing out and about?"

"What my plans are, are of no concern to you." He looked down at his wrist as he straightened the cuff of his shirt sleeve with shaky hands. She thought that it hadn't really been that crooked to begin with. "If you're bothered by my presence here, just let me say that I'm here on Hogwarts business."

"Hogwarts? Are you looking for books to assign for your classes?"

"Very observant, Granger," he said with a raised eyebrow. She blinked owlishly at him, her heart tugging in her chest as she remembered the last time they spoke.

"I missed you," her voice came out a whisper, so soft and so surprising even to herself that she crossed her fingers that he hadn't heard it. By the frigid posture and wide stare he pierced her with, she knew he had.

"What?" He hissed, eyebrows drawing close as he regained his senses. She froze.

"I-I meant, that I missed bothering you," she said hurriedly. "What's life without someone to torment? Obviously you already know this, what with how much you tormented me, Ron, and Harry growing up."

"Granger," Draco started. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear what you said and I'm going to walk away now. Enjoy your shopping." He turned on his heel and walked briskly to the door. She held her breath as he reached for the handle, half expecting him to turn around and look back at her. When all he did was tug the door open and disappear out of it, she let out the breath she'd been holding. She wanted to towel dry her hair and hide in it; what had she been thinking?

September 2001

"I missed you too," came a voice from her office doorway. Hermione froze, quill dripping ink onto her parchment. No, not a voice, his voice. She turned slowly to see Draco standing stiffly in her doorway.

"Malfoy?"

"Don't make me repeat it. I've been thinking it over since the last time we spoke. We're closer now; you know it, I know it. We're almost...friends of sorts. You were right before, life isn't worth it without someone to torment." He paused, sending a faint smirk her way. "And you've always been my favorite, Granger."

She stood, crossing her arms tightly around her midsection.

"So we're good?" She asked timidly.

"Maybe not yet. I don't know what I'm supposed to do when it comes to you, but we're at least just fine." His tone was soft, quiet in the large space. The light waned outside her window. Her heart picked up pace - what a way to end her birthday.

"Just fine's alright, yeah?"

"Yeah, Granger. It's alright."