Draco could honestly say that he hadn't felt this good in a long time. It was silly that locking lips with someone could do that to one's mood, but it had and he wasn't going to complain about it, even though he knew he probably shouldn't be so content after snogging Granger of all people.

The Head Girl walked beside him in silence as they climbed the Grand Staircase up to the sixth floor. He hadn't been in the Head's Tower since she had helped him with the Patronus charm, and he dared to assume that she hadn't either.

Once they stood in front of the painted Highland cattle, Draco muttered the password and waited until the portrait hole was revealed. Stepping forward, he arrived into the common room and wrinkled his nose, confirming his assumption that the tower had been neglected in their absence, since it was no longer officially in use.

Drawing his wand, he waved it around and watched as the thin layer of dust that had coated the room dissolved. Behind him, Granger let out a disbelieving snort. "You're the last person I ever expected to be familiar with household charms," she muttered.

He turned around and raised an eyebrow at her. "Removing dust was the first thing I was able to do once my magic revealed itself," he told her in a drawl. "Even before I owned a wand. I live in a very large house, Granger, and exploring unused wings is a lot more fun when you don't have to sneeze every ten minutes."

Her eyes widened a little and Draco frowned, briefly wondering what about his story was worthy of a response like that, but then he realised that this was the first time he had volunteered information about himself. He shrugged it off and shot a nonverbal Incendio into the fireplace to warm the common room.

Shrugging his robes off his shoulders, he discarded them over the couch before striding over to the kitchenette and tapping his wand against the lower leftmost cabinet, causing it to jump open.

"I've always wondered why that was locked," Granger scoffed. She dropped down on the couch and watched him rummage through the cabinet.

"Yes, well, I had to stash my liquor somewhere safe," he answered as he pulled out a bottle. Tapping his wand against the cabinet door again, it sealed shut once more. Draco straightened up and put his wand away before taking out two wine glasses from one of the overhead cabinets.

Granger chuckled. "Did you assume I'm a heavy drinker?"

Draco resisted the urge to grimace. He didn't think it would be beneficial to tell her that back then he simply hadn't wanted her touching his belongings with her filthy Mudblood hands. Even though he had since mostly distanced himself from those views, he still didn't think she would appreciate his honesty.

Instead of answering, he simply moved to the couch and sat down next to her, handing her the glasses and drawing his wand again, tapping it against the bottle to loosen the cork. He poured the mulled mead into their glasses before setting the bottle aside and accepting one of the glasses that Granger offered him. Sitting back against the pillows, he outstretched his legs onto the coffee table and sipped from his mead.

The silence was quite comfortable for a while. Both of them enjoyed their drink while being lost in their own mind. After a while, Granger put her empty glass down on the table and took a deep breath as she turned to face him.

"As nice as that mead is," she started, and Draco raised an eyebrow at her weak choice of praise for his high-end beverage, "we should really talk about what happened."

Draco swirled his drink around in his glass and frowned up at her. "Well, Granger, we kissed," he drawled, "and it was surprisingly good."

"Malfoy, please, I feel uncomfortable enough about this without you making a mockery out of it," she bit out.

"Witch, I gave you a compliment. I said it was good, didn't I?"

She shot him an unimpressed frown while she played with the hem of her cardigan. "Not without emphasising how surprising that was to you."

"Granger, it was a joke, please lighten up," Draco replied, rolling his eyes. "I know for a fact that you are more experienced in the act of snogging than I am."

When she continued to frown at him, he sighed. "I've been in a committed relationship with the same witch for the past five years," he elaborated a little impatiently, "but you… the whole school knows about you and Krum, and Weaselbee has so obviously been carrying a torch for you for so long that I would actually feel a little sorry for him if you haven't snogged him by now… And then there was that party in sixth-year."

Draco paused briefly and couldn't quite fight back a grimace, thinking back to that night. He had been on his way to the Come and Go Room, assuming that with so many of his classmates out after curfew to attend Slughorn's Christmas party, no one would question his presence in the surrounding corridors.

He had been wrong. In hindsight he realised that Dumbledore and Snape had known about his mission from the very start, and that they had probably been paying close attention to him. It would certainly explain why that bloody Squib of a caretaker had suddenly snatched him by the collar before dragging him into the party.

"Just before I was caught for trying to gatecrash," he said, shooting her a mild glare for joking about it at the party a few weeks ago, "I saw you under a mistletoe with that substitute Gryffindor Keeper who cracked Potter's skull open with a Bludger later that year. You seemed to be enjoying yourself for a while before sprinting off… That really is your thing, isn't it? Running away after a kiss?" he added thoughtfully, smirking at the subtle blush that spread on Granger's cheeks.

"Let's just say I was suddenly hit with some clarity and decided that staying there with Cormac McLaggen was an insult to my own self-respect," she grumbled, clearly very uncomfortable about the fact that her digression had been witnessed, even if just by him. "And you seem well informed, given the fact that Harry vehemently maintained that you weren't present during that particular game," she said, purposefully ignoring his dig.

Draco shrugged. "He's right, I wasn't. Didn't stop the rest of the school from talking about how the famed Boy-Who-Lived nearly stopped living up to his title because his own Keeper tried to kill him, though."

Granger rolled her eyes and shook her head a little. "We're drifting from the conversation," she said irritably. "But before we dive deeper into how we go from here, I would appreciate if you'd tell me why you've been goading me."

Giving himself some time to respond, Draco finished his drink, pulled his legs from the table and reached for the bottle again, providing them both with another glass. Once he sat back again, he studied her for a moment while she sipped her mead.

"Even though we've never had an actual conversation before the start of this year," he began, "it's not like you've been a complete stranger. We shared a lot of the same classes over the past six years, and let's not forget how much I enjoyed taunting your two best friends in my spare time."

She raised her eyebrows expectantly, which Draco took as a sign that she wanted him to explain himself. "I discovered pretty early on that you're very good at ignoring taunts," he continued, "and that fascinated me, because Potty and Weasel are so horrible at it. You would think that you'd rub off on them at some point…"

Granger sighed and frowned disapprovingly, and he gave her an amused grin. "Well, it's true," he shrugged. "In any case, I started paying attention to see what you did and didn't respond to, and I've narrowed it down to two things. The first is stress, and the second is being unable to explain something."

Her frown deepened but she remained quiet. Draco bent toward the coffee table and set down his glass before leaning closer to Granger, studying her face for a moment. "I don't understand why, but you've been different around me since we returned to Hogwarts," he said softly. "It took a while for me to accept, but eventually I was able to admit to myself that I appreciated that."

Two kind, brown eyes held his gaze, and as he stared into them, Draco could see something change in her eyes, causing her whole demeanour to soften a little. She absent-mindedly moved her glass, swirling the mead around.

"When you continued being nice to me after our Quidditch Pitch encounter—invited me to a party, even—I figured that if you could put that behind you without hexing me across the castle, I could find a way to be civil to you."

Granger smiled a little, her eyes still on her glass. "I have to be honest," she said, "I never expected you to be receptive to the philosophy of treating others the way you want to be treated."

"I have never really been around people who responded to anything other than status and power before," Draco answered softly. "I have no idea how often you've told me that compassion is not the same as pity, but it took a long time before I believed you."

"Tell me about it," she muttered, finally looking up at him again. "If there's one thing I've learned this year it's how unbelievably stubborn you are."

Draco arched an eyebrow at her. "You're one to talk. What happened in the library was not one-sided, Granger, and yet I had to push your buttons for over a week until you could finally admit to yourself why you were so annoyed by it."

She frowned. "I just assumed you were doing it to annoy me."

"That's not true," he challenged. Granger's frown deepened, and Draco gave her a small smirk. "I just told you that I've been paying attention to what you respond to, and that I've narrowed it down to stress and you being unable to explain something." He cocked his head a little to the side, studying her face for a moment. She looked a little annoyed, but her eyes betrayed curiosity for where he was going with this.

"It bothered you so much because you couldn't figure out why I was testing your boundaries," he continued softly. "If it had been anyone else, you would have recognised it as flirting, but with me you couldn't be certain, and you couldn't stand not knowing for sure."

"It just doesn't make much sense to me why you would want this at all," she told him quietly.

Draco fell silent for a while, struggling to find the words. Opening himself up like this was a vulnerability he disliked, even if it was becoming easier. He frowned a little as he looked up, and he was relieved to see that Granger didn't show any visible impatience.

"You're everything I was taught to look down upon," he started slowly after drawing in a deep breath, "and for years, that is exactly what I did. So to have you of all people be nice to me… It makes it easier to forget what I've done."

Granger set her glass down on the coffee table and slowly turned back toward him. She looked very doubtful and tentatively reached out, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, startling him a little. "You're not supposed to forget," she murmured. "You're supposed to learn to forgive yourself and move on from it."

He stared at her hand, still holding his, and quietly pondered over her words for a moment, once again taken aback by her kindness. She squeezed his hand again and Draco glanced up at her. "This isn't something that's going to get better with time," she continued softly, carefully choosing her words. "What happened, what you did, it's always going to loom over you. While I'm glad that I could do something to help make you feel better, snogging me — or anyone, really — is only a temporary solution."

She paused briefly. "I don't know if you've been making progress with Madam Medens, but if you haven't I would recommend that you try to find a way to make the most of your sessions with her. I know that probably goes against everything you've been taught growing up, but I think you could really benefit from working with her. It won't matter what other people think of you if you still blame yourself."

Draco couldn't completely fight back a glare. "Remember what I said about not needing another counsellor, Granger?" he bit out.

"Remember what I said about sometimes doing that thing where I'm nice to people?" she shot back without missing a beat. "Maybe you should give that a shot sometime."

He surprised himself when he let a soft laugh escape his throat before allowing the room to go quiet again. He knew she was right, but Madam Medens had finally realised that he wasn't going to talk to her just because she and McGonagall felt that he needed it, and he was so relieved that he didn't have to attend their weekly sessions anymore. After six appointments, she had told him that he was always welcome to come back but that she was going to free her schedule for students who wanted to talk to her.

Draco slowly turned his hand around and closed it around Granger's, lightly moving his thumb along her fingers. However innocent these physical touches were, he hadn't been this close to anyone since his break-up with Pansy, and even though thinking about her still opened up a pit inside his stomach, his appreciation for her as a person and friend was starting to come back to him.

It was strange that out of everyone at Hogwarts, Granger had turned out to be the one that had somehow managed to bring him the comfort that he needed. It was starting to become almost treacherously easy to drown out the voice in the back of his mind that tried to tell him to let go of the lowly Mudblood. It just didn't seem important anymore. Surprisingly enough, who she was and how she treated him ended up outweighing her pesky lineage by far.

He had no idea how long they sat there like that, but after a while Granger let out a sigh. "As nice as this is," she murmured, echoing her earlier words, "what in the world are we doing, Draco?"

Once again, it had been several weeks since someone had used his first name, and he simultaneously felt a shiver move up and down his spine and a wave of comfort wash over him. "It's not something I had foreseen either, but it seems that we're holding hands," he quipped easily.

Granger glanced up at him, annoyance clearly visible in her eyes. "You know that's not what I meant," she argued. "What are we doing after we leave this tower?"

"I don't understand why you're making a big deal out of this, Granger," Draco sighed, frowning at her. "We eliminated some tension that built up between us and it was nice. After tonight, I expect us to do what we have done for the past few months, and if more tension builds up, we'll deal with it once it announces itself."

He narrowed his eyes a little and briefly studied the unsure look in her eyes. "Unless you have other ideas. In which case, do share."

"This just isn't exactly what I had in mind when I said I hoped we would find a way to get along," she told him quietly.

Draco gave a shrug. "It works, so why not?"

She continued to look doubtful and glanced down at their hands, still clasped together. Draco closed his eyes for a brief moment and slowly inhaled through his nose in an attempt to keep his annoyance at bay. He had known that Granger wouldn't settle her doubts without a fight, but he had never witnessed her being so unsure of anything and he didn't like this side of her.

Her irritable demeanour had betrayed her in the past weeks. Draco knew that Granger was flawlessly skilled at ignoring things that didn't matter to her; she had proven that time and time again over the past few years. She had not been able to ignore him in the past weeks, though, which meant that she was not unaffected by his mission to find her limits.

It had only been a matter of time before she would snap, and he had finally been able to have her admit that this tension he had felt was mutual, just like her behaviour had suggested. And so here they were, just now coming down from their post-snog endorphin high, and Draco realised full well that he had to thread carefully to not ruin this carefully constructed outcome.

Shifting a little closer to her, he reached up, playfully tugged at a loose curl and gave her a smirk when she blinked her eyes in surprise. "You can't make me believe that you didn't feel something when we kissed," he said softly.

"I'm not trying to make you believe anything," Granger countered sharply. She held his gaze with a mild glare for a moment. "It was nice," she finally conceded, sighing, "but right now it's starting to really sink in how much this complicates things."

"It doesn't," Draco argued quietly, shaking his head. "As much as I needed this, Granger, and as nice as it was, let's not pretend that things like this only happen when there are deep, unprofessed feelings at play. Sometimes it's just a physical need. I dare say neither of us were the other's first choice for this."

He had sort of expected her to glare at him in offence, but when she glanced up at him, he could only recognise relief in her eyes. Draco gave her a small smirk. "Besides, we agreed that you weren't a broom closet wench and that we would aim for a friendship. I don't usually snog my friends in deserted corridors… or at all, really."

Granger chuckled softly. "Thank you," she murmured, "but I have to accept half of the responsibility this time. I'm glad we're on the same page for once, though," she added with a smile.

She slowly pulled her hand from his and shifted to the edge of her seat. "I should go to bed," she announced softly. "Ginny will hold it against me if I miss the match against Hufflepuff tomorrow."

"As she should," Draco shrugged, giving her a lazy smirk. "Good night, Granger."

"Good night, Malfoy," she replied softly as she got to her feet. With one last smile in his direction, she moved to the staircase that led up to the Head Girl chambers and started climbing the steps.

He watched her disappear around the corner and sank back against the pillows with his eyes closed, waiting for the regret he knew he was supposed to feel.

Just like the previous times, it never came.

Saturday, 6 March 1999

Hufflepuff had their strongest team in many years. Ever since the loss of Diggory as their Captain and Seeker four years previous, their Quidditch team had been a bit of a joke, and they had steadily come in last during all the seasons since.

Against all expectations, Brendon Halkirk, the burly sixth-year that had received the title of Captain this year, had really managed to turn the team around. It had been a somewhat unusual choice that he had opted for the Keeper position instead of Beater, considering the way he was built, but seeing him play, it made sense.

Even though Draco had experienced first-hand how skilled Trev Mallory was in his position as Keeper for Gryffindor, Hufflepuff's Chasers were well-coordinated and still managed to score from time to time. He had fully expected an easy win for the Gryffindor team, but Halkirk was surprisingly quick and had managed to block a few really tricky shots from Gryffindor's Chasers.

Draco stood in the front row of the Slytherin stands, flanked by sixth-year Niles Hanley and fifth-year Holden Ledbury. They leaned against the wooden railing and followed the game attentively. Even though it was an interesting and fast-paced game, no one in the Slytherin stands could really muster up the appropriate enthusiasm.

"Say what you want about her pedigree," Hanley shouted over the noise that came from the other stands when Gryffindor scored their eleventh goal, "but that Weasley chick is fine."

Ledbury grinned appreciatively but did the smartest thing a guy with a girlfriend could do, and he neither confirmed nor denied his friend's statement. Draco turned his head in Hanley's direction and shot a frown at the younger Slytherin.

"Weren't you dating little Greengrass?" he questioned, remembering their Hogsmeade outing in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop last semester.

Hanley grimaced a little. "Sadly, I never made it past the getting-to-know stage," he answered bitterly. "Don't know why that surprised me. The girl's gorgeous. We had a really nice time, but I don't think she ever really planned on letting it go anywhere."

Loud cheering from the Gryffindor stands distracted them, and Draco looked up in time to see Weasley do a salto in celebration of yet another goal. The people in the crimson-and-gold stands across the field thrusted their flags and banners in the air and soon a familiar chant echoed around the stadium.

"I resent that they took that song from us," Hanley scoffed loudly.

Ledbury laughed and shook his head. "We never would have been able to use it after Weaselbee left school anyway," he reasoned. "His sister possesses more skill and more confidence than him in her little finger alone. If the she-Captain over there had been in Slytherin, we would have lifted the boys-only restriction years ago."

"You underestimate the perseverance of tradition, Ledbury," Draco told him, knowing that none of the three Slytherins that had Captained in the last seven years would have allowed a girl on the team, no matter how good she was.

He stared at the red-haired girl that hovered near the far goalposts. She was nothing more than a crimson dot in a grey sky, but her red mane made it easy to recognise her, even though she wasn't the only ginger on the team. He didn't disagree with his younger Housemate, though. Weasley was, objectively, a very skilled player.

The Keeper training he had joined at their request had really humanised the Gryffindors on the team for him, and Draco had realised that he didn't dislike them on principle anymore. He could admit to himself that they were strong and skilled players, and he could even appreciate that they had given him some useful tips.

The whole exchange that morning had been much friendlier than he would ever have expected. His instincts had told him to be suspicious about their sudden civilness, but the more he thought about it the less likely it seemed that they would have had ulterior motives. They could have had a perfectly fruitful training without him, after all.

He felt a gentle push against his left arm, and Draco looked down to find that Ledbury's pretty blonde girlfriend had squeezed herself between them. Ledbury draped his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss on her temple as a greeting before returning his attention to the game. After another goal from Hufflepuff, the Quidditch commentator announced that the score was one-hundred-and-thirty for Gryffindor against an even hundred for Hufflepuff.

"Did you hear?" Imogen Stretton asked as soon as most of the cheering had died down, glancing up at her boyfriend. "Apparently, Gwenog Jones has been spotted in the visitors' stands. Rumour has it she's here to scout Weasley for the Harpies."

Ledbury's forehead wrinkled as he raised his eyebrows. "She chose the right game to scout," he answered, sounding impressed. "Weasley brought her A-game to this match."

Draco narrowed his eyes as he studied the girl in question. She was forcefully pointing around the field, giving out instructions to her fellow Chasers, and soon the three sprinted off together to follow after the Hufflepuff Chaser that was currently in possession of the Quaffle. They didn't manage to intimidate him, and after a transparent but effective feint, he scored.

She was a very involved Captain, always busy motivating her team but never too distracted to neglect her own role as Chaser. Draco didn't know her very well, but all the Weasleys were notorious hotheads with terrible tempers, and yet she-Weasley managed to keep a neutral expression on her face, even when the rest of her body-language betrayed her disappointment for Hufflepuff's goal.

Not long after, the yellow-and-black dot that had resided high above the rest of the players seemed to have lost the fight against gravity, but when Draco squinted his eyes he discovered that the Hufflepuff Seeker was not in freefall, but fully in control of her actions and in aggressive pursuit of the Golden Snitch. The Gryffindor Seeker hastily followed, and soon it was a neck-and-neck race.

The six Chasers paid them no mind and continued their battle for the red, leather-covered ball, and just before the Gryffindor Seeker successfully closed her fingers around the tiny, winged spec of gold, Weasley punched the Quaffle through the middle goalpost, securing Gryffindor's victory with a total of two hundred and ninety points.

The crimson lions lost their minds in celebration as if they had already won the Quidditch Cup while the Hufflepuffs applauded politely, seemingly not all that bothered by their team's loss.

Ledbury glanced in Draco's direction over the head of his girlfriend and grinned. "Great game," he shouted, nodding his head approvingly. Hanley gave a noncommittal shrug in response and rolled his eyes when the Weasley is our Queen chant reached them.

Down on the field, Weasley wrapped her arm around her Seeker's shoulders, congratulating the younger girl for catching the Snitch. After a playful ruffle through the fourth-year's hair, she marched up to Halkirk and they enthusiastically shook hands. He was still grinning, and Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise, knowing he himself would be in a very foul mood if he were in his shoes.

The Slytherins had begun to leave the stands, and Draco followed Hanley, Ledbury and Stretton to the exit. Once they had arrived back on the ground, a large crowd had formed in front of the changing rooms. Gwenog Jones stood proudly in the middle, happily entertaining her fans by giving out autographs and answering the numerous questions.

Draco inadvertently rolled his eyes at the scene before him. While there was no denying that Jones was a gifted Quidditch player, she had always seemed to prefer the attention that came with her position on her team and not the honour of playing in the name of the Holyhead Harpies.

He started moving around the crowd but then halted his step abruptly when his eyes found someone that stood a little further away. It had been many months since he had last seen Harry Potter, but still it was too soon, and he was not prepared for it.

Thankfully, the Saviour of the Wizarding World had not yet spotted him, as he was far too busy laughing with Granger. The sight of her had more effect on him than he dared to admit, even just to himself, and to his own surprise he found that he couldn't look away.

A lot had changed over the past couple of months, and over time, Draco had given up on trying to understand everything, instead choosing to go with what felt right. He had resisted for a long time, but he was ready to admit that being around Granger made him feel good. He was sure that the enjoyment from the kiss they had shared yesterday had been mutual, and they had shared a nice moment in the Head's Tower afterwards. But to see her now, standing beside Potter with sparkling eyes and a wide grin on her face, her curls dancing as she moved her head with laughter, Draco fully realised how guarded Granger still was around him.

He had meant what he had said to her yesterday—the kiss was not the result of hidden feelings on his part. He appreciated her company and her kindness, that much was true, but he was pretty sure that was the full extent of his feelings toward her. He wasn't sure why seeing her so free and unrestrained with other people bothered him, but there was a heaviness inside his chest that hadn't been there five minutes ago, and he couldn't quite explain its sudden appearance.

Weasley appeared in the doorway of the changing rooms and Gwenog Jones immediately marched toward her, extending her hand to enthusiastically greet the Gryffindor Captain. Clearly, for once the rumours were true. On the sidelines of the crowd, Potter and Granger proudly looked on, continuously chatting and laughing.

"Malfoy!"

Draco glanced in the direction of the call and saw his earlier company with a few other Slytherins from various years. Hanley had been the one who had called him, and the sixth-year expectantly raising an eyebrow. "Are you coming?"

In a considerably less good mood than before, Draco moved toward the group, quietly pondering over his own confusion while the other Slytherins happily made fun of Hufflepuff's loss.