"We've looked everywhere. It's not here. Now, I don't know where you put it, but, honestly, I don't care. I just want to go back to sleep." Theo said as he stifled a yawn.

When Draco broke into his room at six in the morning, his first thought was to chuck his pillow at the uninvited wizard. Unfortunately, he dodged it easily and physically shook Theo until he woke up, all the while muttering about something that was vanished? Or flying? It didn't make too much sense.

Now, nearly two hours later, they've dug through every corner of his room, turned his pockets inside-out, and made a mess that would make a house-elf cry in indignation.

"Have you checked the-"

"Yes, Draco, I've checked the wardrobe, the drawers, the desk, and the bloody loo!" Theo rolled his eyes, but the blond remained blind to this fact. He was half-crawled under his bed, no doubt disturbing the poor spiders' morning as well.

Theo had the urge to give his bottom a well-deserved kick. It would have been easy, he left it sticking out and up in a very undignified manner.

Now, that Theo really thought about it, he'd never seen his friend - or any other Malfoys, for that matter - lose so much decorum before. Sure, the Dark Lord played with all of their dignities like a vicious mongrel with a freshly carved tenderloin, but Lucius always - even after his stay in Azkaban - looked more put together than his son was now.

"What's so important about a bloody scarf anyway? If you're so damn cold just borrow mine and order a new one from Malkin's."

Draco crawled back out, then sat on the floor, at the foot of his bed, head hanging in defeat. Theo took his usual place on the couch, where he could clearly see every sign of his friend's nervousness. His shaking legs, his strange, uneven breaths, and the way he ruffled his hair into a platinum mess. He still had the same tells as he did in their childhood.

Theo did not make a single noise, letting Draco start on his own. Seeing his stress stirred something up in him, maybe his long-lost brotherly instincts. Still, he waited, letting the threatened snake uncurl on its own, lest it bites him.

Draco slowly raised his head, grey meeting green, and he whispered a single word: "Hermione."

—

Theo looked at his friend-soon-to-be-brother with the deepest frown he could manage while Draco finished his story.

"So, you're telling me you're dating my sister if we can't find your scarf, but if we do it was just a dream?" He needed every bit of Slytherin slyness to get through that sentence without breaking into manic laughter. The confused, nearly Hufflepuff look on the blond's face was just the cherry on top.

"Yes. So keep searching. I think we missed the top of the wardrobe." Draco stretched his legs, then his face twisted in pain. Theo told him so many times not to sit like that or they'll cramp, but he refused to listen. So he refused to feel any sympathy.

He would've gladly watched Draco fumble about his room for a bit longer, but the angry grumbling that came from his stomach spelt different plans. So, with natural grace, he stood and produced his wand from his sleeve.

"Accio Draco's scarf." He annunciated each syllable with a shite-eating grin on his face.

The blond looked at him, dumbfounded at first, then, when no fabric came whooshing to Theo's hand, upset.

"Why didn't you do that before?" he accused him.

Theo quirked a brow. "Why didn't you? I'm not the only wizard in this room." When Draco did nothing, but glare at him with his haughty Malfoy façade, his grin widened. "Don't tell me you forgot about it."

"Arsehole," he swore, but a tiny glint in his eye told Theo he wasn't serious.

"That's what you get for waking me up so early," he rebuked. "Now, come, let us see how that girlfriend of yours will ruin our perfectly peaceful Sunday breakfast his time."

—

Ginny was right. Again.

Never before in her life did Hermione feel so empowered just by what she was wearing. She wanted to flip her hair and do that strange hip swaying thing she'd seen other witches do. With a final look at herself in the mirror and a last swig of the deliciously potent potion Draco gave her, she left her room.

First, nothing was out of the ordinary. There were some students wandering about the common room, getting ready for the day. Others were just starting with a round of Exploding Snaps.

Then Dean noticed her, and his jaw went slack. He looked Hermione up and down, spending more time than necessary at her chest. Hermione couldn't even finish her thought about his lewd behaviour when a spell flew from the end of the room, hitting the leering boy in the chest, knocking the air out of him.

"She's taken, you git." Ginny snapped and closed in with Harry and Ron in tow. By the look on their faces and the rather red imprint of a hand on the latter's cheek, Ginny already talked to them.

It was nice, not having to worry about dealing with her friends, she thought, then reprimanded herself for the mere thought at the same moment. She had amazing friends, kind and supportive. They were with her through thick and thin in the past years.

Hermione shot an apologetic look at them, but Ron avoided her gaze, and Harry still seemed to be in shock. Just what did the redhead tell them? She searched her face with questioning eyes, but she bounced to her side, seemingly over the moon.

"Ready to head down for breakfast? After this night, I might beat Ron's record," she whispered, then grabbed her by the hand, leaving her no choice but to follow.

—

You could have heard a pin drop when Hermione entered the Great Hall. In fact, Draco had indeed let go of his fork, choosing to stare at the girl unabashedly. Thankfully for his reputation, everyone in the hall was too busy staring to notice.

If they weren't sitting at Hogwarts, Theo would've been convinced that he walked straight into one of those Muggle fashion shows Daphne and Lovegood were discussing some days ago. Hermione ditched the standard Hogwarts attire, opting for some different clothes instead.

She wore a silken blouse that was undeniably Slytherin green, with a pair of dark jeans and long boots hugging her legs so tightly, he quickly took note of everyone who stared too hard so he could challenge them to a duel later.

In fact, the only wizarding item that remained on the girl was the long, green and silver scarf draped around her neck.

Even his own pulse quickened as the two girls approached, seemingly undisturbed by the frozen atmosphere. Not even glancing at the Gryffindor table, they made their way to the Slytherin side. At the end of the table, they split, Ginny plopping down next to Daphne, and Hermione walking straight to them, sitting next to Draco.

"Do I still look good in green?" she asked with a cheeky smile.

Draco took some moments to respond, but he finally found his characteristic smirk.

"Stunning," he answered.

And she brazenly kissed his cheek.

—

A/N: This was about 1/3 of what I planned for this chapter (originally it ended halfway through Malfoy visit), but I feel like we need to spend more time exploring smaller details of the story, and this lets me not feel dragged down by word counts and deadlines.

So, shorter but more frequent chapters? Yay or nay? Yell at me in the comments if you hate it.

Merlin knows, it's better for my sanity.

Be back soon with London visit nr. 2. Then, the Malfoys. Then, the World!

Love,

LydieBerry

(P.S.: Just finished planning the Christmas break shenanigans, and I am definitely excited!)