A/N: So, first of all, I am very sorry for the sudden hiatus, but I needed a break to sort out some mental health stuff. But I am back, better than ever, and I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good I'll keep my intended 3-4 days update schedule.

That said, let's get this ball rolling! ;)

"Hermione! Wake up!"

Shaking. A growl.

"Come on, I don't want to miss breakfast."

Knitted eyebrows.

"Merlin, I have no idea what the Malfoys did to you, but-"

Malfoys? Malfoy!

"Draco!" Hermione sat up in her bed, her head still swimming with images of books, tartes and smiling snakes.

"No, it's Ginny." Came the answer, and truly, her best friend was standing next to her bed. "Sorry to disappoint," she added with a grin.

As the world slowly reassembled itself around Hermione, the crease on her forehead got deeper. How did she get back to Hogwarts? How long was she out? And what even happened to her?

A growing headache thumped through her thoughts, which usually meant she either studied too hard, or read too much the night before. Now, as it droned away in her temple, Hermione added 'Malfoyed too hard' to the list. It wasn't a word, it hardly made sense, but it was the best description of last night's events. She now remembered the tea, the Legilimens, and conversing with Lucius and Narcissa, but after that, complete darkness.

Still confused, she gathered the strength to get out of the bed, but Ginny suddenly appeared before her, pushing her back.

"Oh, no, no, no. You're not escaping until you tell me exactly what you did at the manor. The ferret insisted that nothing happened, but seeing as he carried you here covered in this old thing," she pointed at a luxurious green blanket bearing the Malfoy's crest still tangled around Hermione's legs. "I hope you at least had some fun with the boy before coming back to boring, old, chaperoned Hogwarts."

Hermione's face reddened before she could fully comprehend the words. Just what was Ginny thinking? And why was she wiggling her eyebrows? Oh!

"Ginevra Weasley! I didn't go to Malfoy Manor to have… dalliances. Absolutely nothing happened yesterday," she sputtered, suddenly wide awake.

"Well, and I didn't come here to be lied to, yet here we are." She crossed her arms and sat down on the end of her bed. "We both know that I will find out sooner or later, and while I'd love to push the ferret for every little detail, I think there is a whole chapter in the Big Book of BFFs about hexing each other's boyfriends. So…?"

Oh, sweet Morgana, she forgot what an absolute pain her friend could be if she wanted.

Hermione scrunched her eyes, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find a way out of this situation. Ginny was right, she would find out about everything, so she might as well just tell her.

While it all sounded logical in her mind, saying it out loud took two deep breaths and a painful gulp.

"I think I am engaged to Draco," she whispered.

Ginny opened her mouth, closed it, opened again, but not a single sound escaped her lips. Was this good or bad? Did she know something Hermione didn't? Why does everything pureblood related has to be so complicated?

She felt the heat creeping up on her cheeks, so she tried to hide behind her hands, but Ginny was faster. She tore her hands away, revealing the tomato-like face underneath.

"You. Have. To tell me. Everything," she said.

And there was no room for arguments.

"So, what, that old snake is on our side now?" Ginny seethed beside her with both anger and restlessness as they climbed down the stairs. She started after the part with the painting, and haven't been able to stop since.

"I wouldn't go that far, but our interests do align," she said, then smiled wickedly. "And, hey, at least I finally have a Malfoy to make squirm guilt-free."

Ginny cackled. "True."

They rounded the last corner to the Great Hall and were stopped immediately by a group of students blocking the door, gawking and pointing at something inside.

Ginny pushed forward without missing a beat. "Excuse me, two hangry witches coming though."

When they finally got through, the sight that welcomed them was nothing short of a Hitchcockian nightmare. Owls were sitting everywhere: on the statues, the tables and in every single crevice. Many still circled restlessly in the air, somehow not crashing into each other, and occasionally diving down to snatch a bit of sausage or bacon left behind by the fleeing students. The professors and the older prefects were rushing around, casting spells to calm the wicked parliament.

Hermione exchanged a glance with Ginny, drawing their wands in unison. She was about to fire her first spell when a familiar voice called out to her.

"Miss Granger, please refrain from going any further." McGonagall walked up to them, wispy feathers covering her dark robes and hat. "I'm afraid if the owls were to notice you, this situation would quickly escalate into a frenzy."

"Headmistress, what happened? What are these birds doing here? Did someone hex them?" Ginny asked, keeping her wand pointed at the threat.

Minerva shook her head and cast a strong disillusionment charm on them. "No, they are just waiting to dutifully deliver their letters to the intended recipient." Hermione pushed through the headache to catch the meaning behind the professor's words and looked at the army of owls with mild fear.

"Where is Harry? Is he okay?" she asked.

"I'm glad to know you're still looking out for Mr Potter, however, these owls were sent to you, not him," McGonagall explained, slowly guiding them further away from the madness.

That made absolutely no sense. Who would send her letters by the hundreds? And why?

"They seem to be from the various branches of Gringott's," the professor said, no doubt reading Hermione's facial expressions. "Mr Nott assured me that this was to be expected, and he asked me to relay his apologies and let you know that he will handle the situation."

"He never mentioned this to me." She shook her head. It was very unlike her brother to miss such a huge detail. She glanced at Ginny, hoping for a better explanation, but the girl just shrugged.

"Don't look at me, we barely have enough money to need a single vault, not one in every country."

Hermione bit her lower lip glancing back at the Hall. She couldn't just leave all this work to the professors and the prefects. And Theo! She had to talk to him as soon as she could.

She wanted to help but knew the Headmistress was right. If she were noticed by the owls, they would swarm her immediately. Still, there had to be a way… maybe polyjuice? No, that would take too long. Disillusionment? She was getting better at maintaining multiple spells at once, but she just couldn't risk it.

"I know you are eager to help Hermione but we have the situation under control," McGonagall said, leaning just a bit closer. "Mr Malfoy had informed me that you had a hard night yesterday, and you have my respect for not only enduring that visit but finding a way to overcome your fears in the first place. However, I must also remind you that while the heart can be brave and the mind can be sharp it is all rendered useless if one forgets to take care of themselves. Hunger and fatigue had claimed many a brilliant soul."

Right on cue, Hermione's stomach grumbled.

Minerva smiled. "Now, I think there is someone waiting for you to help sate that appetite."

She followed the witch's gaze to find Draco next to the wall, smirking in her direction. His hair looked perfect, his black leather coat was thick, but still hug his body just enough to show his lean silhouette, and Hermione felt like those innumerable owls suddenly found their way into her tummy.

He beckoned her with his index finger and she took a few steps before even thinking, then stopped herself. She is Hermione Nott, not some teenage girl to go running to her…boyfriend.

Draco noticed her hesitance and swiftly pushed himself off the wall, crossing the remaining space in a few long strides. With a cocked head and a small smile, he admired her for a couple of moments, before draping a coat on her shoulders and buttoning it with a flick of his wand. He waited until she pushed her arms through the sleeves, then grabbed her right hand, all without saying a word.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, looking at their intertwined fingers. His hands were larger than hers, callused from both holding a pen and his broom. It was a bit sweaty, but at the same time warm, and comforting, especially the gentle circles he made with his thumb.

"I'm taking you on an adventure," he smiled suspiciously, leading them out the front door.