January 25, 1999

.

.

'Are you awake?'

'Yes, unfortunately. Blaise won't shut up about his latest "sexcapade" with your Hufflepuff friend. Apparently she's quite flexible.'

'I...did not need to know that.'

'I'm sure you'll hear a similar, less lewd, version of the tale if you haven't already. Did you need something?'

'Who said I needed anything? What if I just wanted to talk?'

'This time of night? Nice try. Spill it, Granger.'

'Well, I've been thinking about potential candidates for the gala.'

'And?'

'I've concluded that even if I wanted to take Cormac, there is a 99.7% chance he would disintegrate into ashes the second he stepped foot in your courtyard.'

'Ah. So inquisitive, you are.'

'So, I've decided on another option and I wanted to make you aware beforehand.'

'How considerate of you. No.'

'But I haven't told you who it is!'

'Does it start with W and end in Easel?'

'Actually, it's spelled "Easley."'

'Apologies. Allow me to clarify. ABSOLUTELY NOT.'

'You won't even have to talk to him! He'll just be with Harry the whole time.'

'I. Don't. Care. If you insist on maintaining a platonic relationship with him, that is your business. But I'd first blind myself than have to see him anywhere near you in my own home again.'

'You realize he's been invited by the Ministry, right?'

'So?'

'He's already going to be there, regardless if I took him or not.'

'Not the point. It's the principle.'

'For Godric's sake. You're not actually jealous of him, are you?'

.

'...Malfoy?'

.

'Malfoy!'

.

'I'll kick your chair during class if I have to.'

'That won't be unnecessary.'

'I beg to differ. I find it to be quite impactful.'

'I didn't realize Hermione Granger could beg.'

'Sometimes.'

'…are you purposefully trying to kill me?'

'Is it working?'

'Exceptionally.'

'Flattery won't stop me, just so you're aware.'

'Wait. Granger, don't do it.'

.

"...Granger?"

.

'Granger?'

.

'Granger, get back here!'

.

.

January 26, 1999

.

.

Dear Ronald,

I hope Auror training has lightened up a bit. Harry tells me you've been steadily growing on your supervisor. I do hope that means your days aren't ending too terribly. I'm not sure if Harry or Ginny told you but I've been invited to the Ministry's Charity Gala. It's taken me some convincing but I think I'd like to go in full support for the elves, and I wondered if you'd like to attend together as friends?

Regards,

Hermione

.

.

February 3, 1999

In the midst of study hall, Hermione glared at the same problem for the past twenty minutes now. Professor Greeves started assigning situational problem sets which were a constructed series of challenging scenarios. Overall, they were a well-received change to the standard DADA curriculum and quickly became one of her preferred homework assignments. Though not when she'd been up since three this morning, and not at all by choice.

Her strained eyes watched Ginny with envy, as she was able to fall back asleep shortly after the events this morning. It wasn't like it was her bed that disintegrated from someone's spilled potion. Somehow, she had enough energy to go about her day up until this point. Now, she could only hope there was a bed by the time she returned to the dormitory or there would be hell to pay.

Shifting her gaze from Ginny, they fell on Luna and Elena who were seated across from her, each of them taken by their own assignments. Then, the students sitting at the table on the other side of the room came into her sight. Her gaze lazily drifted until they snagged on a glimpse of light blond. Getting an idea, she pulled out a different notebook and quill, and jotted in a rushed, scraggly script.

'Have you gotten far on the problem set?'

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his attention stagger. Similar to their previous interactions, there wasn't a long pause in between responses. It was as if he had the notebook close to him at all times, constantly on standby. Soon, the familiar sound she longed to hear captured her attention. Looking down, there was a new passage written in his neat penmanship;

'Which problem set?'

'For Defense,' she wrote. 'The one you're actively working on.'

'Granger, are you stalking me?'

'We're in study hall. I'm sitting at the table directly across from you.'

Hermione watched in amusement as he glanced up, his eyes rolling back and nearly out of their sockets when he spotted her.

'Fine. What of it?'

'Have you gotten to number 8, yet?'

'Ah yes, I have. One of the easier questions in my humble opinion.'

The urge to snort in an unattractive manner nearly came over her for nothing about this man was 'humble. But if there's one thing she's learned about trying to get him to do something, grooming his ego was the first step.

'I seem to be having a harder time with it. Do you think you could provide any helpful insight?'

'Perhaps. What would I get in exchange?'

Huh. This was new. Not unexpected in the slightest, but still new.

'A sincere thank you.'

'Hmm. Try again.'

She looked up to glare at him but he kept his head down.

'Ah. Ah. No glaring hexes. You're asking me for my help, remember?'

Deciding against casting verbal ones in his directions, she wrote. 'Who was it asking for my help just last week?'

'It's not my fault you didn't make any demands for your services.'

'Not everything has to be an exchange, Malfoy.'

'It does in my world ;)'

She tightened her jaw as she fought the urge to smile.

Draco picked up the habit of emoting within their conversations a week or so ago, shortly after she'd told him their communications reminded her of the rapidly developing craze that was instant messaging within the muggle world. Since then, he'd grown quite fond of the concept, never failing to implement it if only to tip the scales in his favor.

'I'll give you a hug,' she decided.

'That's…not exactly what I had in mind.'

Boys, she thought. They really are all the same.

'A kiss, then.'

'Placement?'

She scrunched her nose.

'You mean where?'

'Where, indeed. On the cheek? Hand? Lips? Arse? Back of the knee? You're leaving out important details.'

'Wherever you'd like.'

The quill danced on the parchment quicker than her brain had time to process what she'd written.

A few minutes passed and she gnawed the inside of her cheek nervously as she awaited his response. Her gaze remained downward, worried if she looked up she wouldn't be able to tear her gaze away from him. No, her eyes would roam, in search of all the places on him she'd like to kiss—and more.

'That desperate, are we?' he replied.

'I've been stuck on the same problem for half an hour now.'

'I see. Very troubling indeed.'

'Sooooo are you going to help me?'

'I could...but it feels against my nature if I don't use this opportunity to expand upon my demands.'

She raised a brow. Then she bit on her lip hard when his statement was followed shortly by; 'I have needs, you know.'

'How unsurprising that Draco Malfoy would be the kind of person to take full advantage when his girlfriend is in distress.'

A familiar glimmer sounded seconds later.

'Anyone granted that privilege should know better than to conjure up a deal with a snake. She'll quickly find herself in over her head.'

'Is that a challenge?'

'Isn't it always?' Hermione grinned before her skin warmed at his next response, and she knew color had poured into her cheeks. 'Don't think your previous statement is going unnoticed, Granger.'

In all the hours they'd spent writing about their day, working on homework assignments, and gossiping about their classmates, this particular topic had yet to be brought up.

Merlin, she really needed sleep.

'Or...we could forget I said anything.'

'No, no, I'd actually like to delve into this a bit more.'

'I'd rather not.'

'How unfortunate for you. I happen to like digging.'

'No, you like annoying me.'

'I enjoy both. Think of it as a combination of my favorite pastimes :)'

'Well you certainly know how to make a girl feel special.'

When she looked up, she found his eyes were already on her. As a last-ditch effort, she sported a pouty lip until he visually succumbed, scowling before he quickly jotted in a leather bound book. The book he devoted entirely to her.

'You've selected the impending jinx, yes?'

And finally. He was addressing the problem set.

'I did.'

'And what spell did you select to cast on the intruder at the entryway?'

'Incarcerous.'

'What about the one at the window?'

She furrowed her brow.

'There was no one by the window.'

'Are you sure about that?'

His inquiry was enough to make her revisit the passage again. Just as quickly as she finished re-reading for the sixth time, she'd found her error. Her look of astonishment quickly transformed into one of glee before she caught Malfoy's pleased expression across the room.

'Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?'

'Flattery won't get you out of kissing me, Granger.'

'You'll get as many kisses as you want, you brilliant git.'

'Good. I'm feeling quite neglected here.'

Despite the joking tones, she felt a twinge of guilt. In truth, they haven't had many opportunities to spend time together since that night in the library. Outside of lectures and brief encounters in the halls, the journals had become their main method of keeping contact.

Feeling daring, she said; 'What if we snuck away to that old classroom?'

'Surely you don't mean now?'

'Yes, now. I'm all caught up. I imagine you've been finished for a while now.'

'I don't think that's a good idea.'

'Why not?'

'Walk with me. Give it five.'

Confused, she watched as he swiftly packed his belongings and strode out of the room without so much as sparing her a glance. When she came around the corner precisely five minutes after, he was only a few paces ahead having waited in an alcove for her. As the distance between them and the rest of their classmates increased, it didn't take long for her strides to synchronize with his.

"Where are we going?" she prompted after a few moments of silence.

"I'm walking you back to your dorm," he provided briskly.

"What? I thought—"

"You look like you're about to fall over any second."

Feeling a surge of defiance, she huffed. "I'm not that tired, honestly—"

"I had to cast a prolonged Reviving Spell on you during Potions this morning," he deadpanned, unamused. "So I'd wager; yes, you are that tired."

"You did what?" Hermione suddenly jerked to a halt. "Why would you have to—" she paused before facing him, catching the tail-end of his sympathetic expression before it turned with a grimace. "Don't tell me I—"

"Your head was almost on my shoulder."

"Shit," she murmured, utterly mortified as the reasoning for her making it through the day was revealed.

"You told me you were sleeping better," he gritted out under his breath while gesturing for them to continue on. If she wasn't sleep deprived, she'd almost say he sounded disappointed with her. And it made her want to shrivel up.

"I have been! Wendy stayed up late last night brewing to practice when she'd heard the prize was Felix Felicis. Somehow, she ended up knocking it over and getting it on my bed posts."

"You're joking," he said in mild shock. "She was brewing Draught of Living Death in the dorm? That is at once bold and utterly—"

"—stupid. I know."

"No wonder you both looked dreadful this morning," he muttered. Hermione glared at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her voice rang through the hollow halls, causing her to become tight-lipped with embarrassment as the echoes bounced off the walls. Until the low rumble of his voice chased after them, like a smooth caress muting them along the way.

"It means spending time together tonight is definitely out of the question," he tread slowly with a quirk in his smile. "Perhaps tomorrow."

"I have a study session with Luna. How's Friday?" He motioned to answer but she suddenly remembered. "Oh no, you have Quidditch practice," she added, narrowly missing the surprise in his eyes as they walked along the empty corridor. "Saturday?'

"I'll be spending the day with my mother. Planning for the gala has her a little wound up so to speak," he said. "What about Sunday? Now that I have them free again."

"We have a test Monday," she said incredulously.

"We can study together," he quipped, with a hint of mischief. "I've even thought of a study method for us to utilize."

"Let me guess. Does this method involve either of us removing an article of clothing depending on if I get a question right or wrong?"

Draco's lips curled into a wicked grin.

"No, but that's a far better idea than the one I had in mind."

"Malfoy!"

"What? It was your suggestion!" He laughed, sounding youthful and buoyant and it was music to her ears.

'I'm serious!" Hermione exclaimed with a smile. "I can't afford to get distracted. I do enough of that during class as it stands, even when I'm awake."

"That offends, Granger," Draco sniffed as they approached the Fat Lady's portrait. "Are you insinuating that I'm nothing more than a mere distraction for you?"

Hermione gnawed at her lip as he leaned against the archway, donning that stupidly handsome grin of his. A vision she would surely see in her dreams tonight. How tempting it was to reach up for that wretched tie of his to pull him in. Not just to kiss him goodnight, but to touch him. To run her hands through his perfect hair and neatly pressed clothes and ruin him.

Instead, she muttered the password, taking a step back and away from him through the doorway. Just before she turned to head in for the night, she cast him a slight smirk.

"Absolutely."

February 4, 1999

During Slughorn's lecture this morning, she noticed he was more...guarded than usual. At minimum, gave a curt nod whenever she greeted him most days, but this time he ignored her completely. Initially, Hermione disregarded it, mentally filing it away as him having a bad day.

Despite having informed him of her pre-existing plans with Luna, she received a message mid-lecture insisting they meet right after classes. Thus bringing them to this impromptu meeting before helping Luna with the concepts of arithmancy. When Hermione closed the door behind her, she came face to face with a tense wizard with a vacant expression that sent. With a cruel chill in his eyes that made her feel like they were ten again.

"Can we make this quick? I'm supposed to be meeting Luna in five minutes."

"I won't be long," he answered with an unsettling calmness.

"Okay," she trailed with uncertainty. "What's going on? Has something happened?"

"You tell me." Hermione could only shake her head, mind spiraling as she tried to figure out what she could have done to upset him.

"How can I when I don't know what's wrong?"

"Why don't you venture a guess?"

With a scoff, she maneuvered around him and headed straight for the door. "Malfoy, I really don't have time for this."

Just as quickly as the door cracked open, it slammed shut again.

Hermione turned to glare at him, noticing a lack of a wand. Draco shook his head, tutting in disapproval.

"I instructed you to guess, Granger."

"Fine," she decided, realizing he wouldn't be letting up until she played along. "Are you mad I received higher marks on our last Charms exam?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he sneered, though his posture had grown noticeably more tense.

"That wasn't a 'no'," she noted, tapping her cheek with a single finger. "But I know that's not it. Did Blaise spit in your tea this morning?"

"I received a letter from my father last night." Her brows furrowed, fixating on a dusty bookshelf to ponder. Had his father said something to upset him? That seemed plausible. But what did that have to do with her?

Unless—

"He told me something rather interesting."

She peered up at him and found his lips tight.

"Said a friend of mine came to visit him a while ago. That she was as mouthy and rambunctious as he remembered her to be as a child. Sound familiar?"

Oh. Fuck.

"It's an extensive process; to be granted special permission from McGonagall and the Ministry to leave school grounds for an entire day. Especially when it's a destination as smashing as Azkaban prison—"

"Malfoy, I—" she attempted to interject.

"Dare I ask, what could be so important that you willingly went through this process, just to go to the worst place in existence to see him of all people?"

You, you oblivious, blonde idiot.

She said no such thing. Instead, she took a more conservative, albeit defensive, route.

"What occurred then isn't any of your concern."

"No?" Draco stepped up to her. Even when he slouched, he easily towered over her. "You're really going to stand there and tell me that it isn't my concern. Even now?"

No, she couldn't tell him that and he very well knew it. So naturally, she avoided the question.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my seeing your father. Next time, I'll—"

"Next time?" He scowled. "There is no 'next time' Granger. This will not be happening again."

Her eyebrows shot up.

"Pardon?"

"Don't act like you have a hearing impediment. I know you heard me fine."

"Oh, you're serious," she demanded.

"Is there anything about what I've said that's led you to believe I'm not being serious?"

"I'm my own person, Malfoy. You can't stop me from making certain decisions." With every passing second, Draco visibly grew more disgruntled, just as she grew less patient. "Especially considering you wouldn't have given a rat's arse what I did back then."

His eyes darkened.

"That's what you think?"

"Am I supposed to think otherwise? That despite your constant efforts to belittle me, you felt differently?" She exclaimed incredulously. "That whatever this is," she gestured between the two of them, "it isn't new for you like it is for me?"

The distinct lack of a response shocked her. Furthermore, she could feel the cracks of his exterior growing. Spreading. Further breaking into pieces while he tried his hardest to conceal his truth.

"How long?" she prompted meekly and he winced, looking properly uncomfortable.

"I can't say," he managed.

"Can't? Or you won't?"

"Don't turn this on me, Granger. We're not dismissing the fact that you went to Azkaban alone."

She tried taking a step closer, feeling a pang in her chest when he took a step back. "I'm not dismissing anything, but we should discuss—"

"No, we don't," he snapped.

"But I really think it's important that we—" Hermione cut in before he groaned loudly in exasperation.

"For fuck's sake," he muttered harshly under his breath, "it doesn't matter—"

"Yes it does, Draco!"

A beat passed.

Her nerves and chest were wound up so tightly, she hardly noticed when he seemed to freeze in place.

"It matters because in case you haven't noticed, everything is different now. Everything," she emphasized, wishing he would say something. Anything. Instead, in an un-Malfoy-like fashion, he just stood there. Unwavering.

She released a heavy sigh and wandlessly unlocked the door in hopes he would put up a front. Unsurprisingly, he didn't.

"Maybe when you're ready to accept that, we can talk about this again. In the meantime, Luna's waiting for me."

"Hermione?"

The brunette in question who had let her mind drift came back to the present. As she'd been running the same conversation on repeat in her head since it transpired. She looked at the time, surprised to see only half an hour had passed and Luna hadn't asked a single question. "Have you finished already?"

Luna nodded. "I'm pleased to say so. Your tips were most helpful," the blonde answered simply. Her thought process was a bit strange and at times difficult to understand, but there was no mistaking her house placement. "Are you alright? You seem distracted."

"Yes, I'm fine. Just a lot on my mind." she defended, finding a random spot in her book to focus on.

"When I have a lot on my mind, I find that it helps to talk about it. Not that it necessarily has to be with another person, though people won't look at you as funny when you do have someone."

It was hard not to consider it. Out of everyone here, Luna was the ideal person to confide in. Someone she could closely relate to with her current predicament.

"Do you ever feel like you're losing your mind? When the truth of the matter is mad and impossible, and yet, it's the most sure you've ever been of anything?"

Luna smiled sadly as her response, her clear eyes free of judgment. Hermione nodded, guilt-ridden. Recalling when she'd dubbed the Quibbler as 'rubbish.'

Not unintelligent, but painfully limited, narrow, close-minded, Luna's father once said to her.

"Right. I'm sorry. They—we," she corrected, "misjudged you."

Luna shook her head, at once acknowledging her apology and dismissing its necessity.

"The world is full of mad and impossible things. Some people choose not to believe them. There are those who actively seek the truth, who want to understand. Then, there are those who accept these mad and impossible things in support of those who are close to them. For that reason, you've always inspired me."

"Me?" Hermione was flabbergasted.

She nodded. "When you stood by Harry when everyone else was against him. At a time when friendships were fragile and our biggest fears was the disapproval of our peers, you and Ron were there when he needed you the most."

"We're his best friends. We've always been there for each other." To which, Luna hummed in agreement.

"Harry was right in choosing you as a friend. Henry agrees with me, by the way."

As she stared at her open book, Hermione was hesitant to agree and Luna saw it clear as day.

"I see that you don't share the same opinion."

"I haven't exactly been the most truthful with them," she said carefully, cautious not to give away any unnecessary details.

"Everyone has a right to their own secrets, Hermione," she assured, leaning closer. "But I understand. Harry's always been rather transparent about feeling left out. While he'll probably be upset at first, he'll come to understand. He always does." Hermione's chest tightened and tore her eyes away from the book to the blonde, skepticism plastered about her facial expression and posture.

"Don't worry, I'm fairly certain no one else can tell." Somehow, she knew. Luna knew.

She tried to maintain steady, calm breaths with no success. She was so certain they'd been careful. "How—?"

"Your aura's different. You look like you've been sleeping more, and you seemed happier," Luna supplied, like she didn't just uncover the most quintessential secret she'd been harboring the past few weeks.

"Neither of us expected this to happen," Hermione provided, leaning forward in her seat. "While I can't imagine Harry and Ron ever coming to terms with it, I can't bring myself to care all that much. What does that say about me as a person? As their friend?"

"I think that you've found something that makes you happy and you are willing to do everything in your power to keep it," Luna answered, pleased when Hermione didn't object. "You're a lot like Harry. He was always an open book when it came to how he felt. To the point where I found it to be a miracle he managed to deceive Lord Voldemort for as long as he did. Regardless, you have a right to your own happiness. With time, I do believe they will start to see it that way as well."

"It's all so strange. We've always been at each other's ends. He and I, it shouldn't make sense. But whenever we're together—" Hermione trailed off. Nothing feels more right.

"If it helps, I imagine it's just as difficult for him to accept," Luna offered, smiling kindly.

There was never a doubt in her mind that such a transition was a difficult adjustment for him. Having been raised a certain way with the belief that there was a group of people who were beneath you, only to have the validity of your entire childhood thrown away, all in favor of the truth.

But not once did it ever occur to her that he would have endured this struggle prior to this year and his proficiency in occlumency certainly made itself prevalent. Having to keep a dark wizard from invading your personal thoughts at any time while they resided in your home would drive anyone mad. But not Malfoy.

At least, not until—

You think I'm used to being driven out of my mind by the mere thought of you?

Hermione gasped.

The walls.

Consisted of glass, creating what was essentially a one-way mirror. A protective barrier to shield himself while keeping everyone else at bay.

The cracks.

Damage caused by hitting the weakest points. The entryways she accidentally utilized to breach his mind whenever he was caught off guard. Or injured, albeit emotionally.

While her thoughts ran rampant, she was able to process a few words Luna said as she continued talking.

"—for someone who's never expressed compassion or guilt, I can't fathom how much his entire thought process had to change," she trailed slowly, tilting her head at Hermione, "especially now that he has you."

Realistically, he would have had to compartmentalize these thoughts for years. To keep anything resembling compassion and guilt hidden away and suppressed in favor of being an effective bully. Both of which she caught glimpses of as they threatened to break free. Before he desperately tried to reseal the cracks, separating them.

After years of being heavily protected with this defense mechanism, his mental barriers were finally breaking. The damage became notably harder to repair with every interaction as time progressed.

As they grew closer.

At this rate, it would only be a matter of time before the cracks spread to the point of disrepair. Where the damage would remain permanent, and the glass would start to fall.

February 5, 1999

Hey Mione,

Hope you're having a good semester back. Auror training's been kicking my arse the past few weeks and Sparrow's still a nightmare, but yeah, she's lightening up a little. Unfortunately, I'll be going with my parents to see Charlie next weekend so I can't go. How's about you ask Dean or Seamus? I'm sure one of them would take you. Or Krum. You still talk to him? Could always go by yourself. If Malfoy gives you a hard time about not having a date, throw a good one at him, eh? Right in his stupid face. I'm sure he did something to deserve it. We'll have to catch up another time.

Take care of yourself,

Ron

Hermione folded the letter and stuffed it back in her bag before two, irate voices attracted her attention on her way to class. One whose tone was typically utilized in poor attempts to flirt. The other one, haunted her very dreams.

"—act like you have some fucking sense."

"Words hurt, Drake."

"If you wanted to be babied, you should have sought comfort from Theo. Now, come on. We need to get going."

"She's probably plotting my death right now." She hadn't heard Blaise like this before. He almost sounded…concerned.

"You won't accomplish anything by skipping class. You can beg for forgiveness later."

"I dunno, mate. Ignoring her seems like a sure way to keep a woman angry." A pause. "But you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

Taking that as her cue to intervene, Hermione turned the corner to approach the pair of wizards glaring at one another.

"Morning, Blaise. Malfoy."

"Princess."

"Granger."

They droned in unison, neither turning to acknowledge her.

"Is everything alright?" she tested, eyes darting between the two of them.

"Oh yes, everything's wonderful," Blaise said, seething through a false smile.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Ignore him. He's just being emotional."

"What's the problem?"

"The problem, Princess, is my girlfriend can't come to the gala. She had some kind of family emergency come up."

"And you're upset with Malfoy because?"

"Because he and Elena have been conspiring against me!" Blaise borderline whined, earning a look of astonishment from Hermione.

"We aren't conspiring," Draco interjected, sounding irritated.

"They've compiled a list of witches they've deemed to be appropriate for me to attend the gala with," Blaise added. Baffled, she raised a single brow.

"Why would you need a list?"

"Yes, Blaise. Why do you need a list?" Draco emphasized with a drawl, crossing his arms.

While initially glaring at the blonde, he then flickered his eyes away to evade contact and cleared his throat. "I'd rather not say," he mumbled, "point is, I'm dateless and the gala is only a week away. I may as well have a sign stuck to my forehead that says 'desperate and alone' on it."

"And here I thought Malfoy was the dramatic one," Hermione remarked, grinning.

Blaise leaned forward and feigned whispering, "who do you think I get it from?"

"You realize none of this solves your problem," Draco deadpanned, unamused.

"Am I on this list?" Hermione countered, catching the slightest shift in stormy greys before addressing Blaise. "If so, I'll go with you," she offered.

Blaise looked at her with hopeful eyes. "What?"

"As it stands, I don't currently have a date," she shrugged. "My previous arrangement didn't work out," she emphasized, glancing at Draco who easily disguised his perplexity with an outwardly neutral expression.

"Huh. I must say, I was a little jealous of Theo for having that privilege," he grinned, taking her hand and bending to kiss the back of it. "It would be my honor to take you to the gala, my lady."

"Wonderful," Hermione breathed, keeping her focus on Blaise to avoid looking at the man beside him. Given his next remark, she knew she made the right choice.

"No need for the long face, mate," Blaise cooed, smirking at Malfoy whose scowl didn't seem to fade. "Maybe one of these days, you'll finally get the chance to take her out on a date."

Draco hummed indifferently, giving her a final look over before putting as much distance between them as possible.

Fixated on his retreating figure, Hermione resisted the urge to chase after him. Blaise stepped up beside her, transitioning his steely glare to display a mix of apologetic and sympathy when he turned to Hermione.

"I wouldn't worry about him. He's been like that the last week or so. Bloody idiot can't stay happy to save his life." Hermione's frown deepened, while Blaise continued to talk, blissfully ignorant of her inner turmoil. "Now, shall we discuss what color we'll be wearing? Oh, and flowers. What sort of flowers do you like? And of course, we mustn't forget the hat—"

February 9, 1999

Hermione jolted, nearly dropping her book when the door opened and slammed shut in one fell swoop.

It took him exactly four steps before he caught sight of her seated in the middle of their transfigured lounge. She could see the gears turning in his eyes as he were deciding if he should stay or go. In hopes of making this decision easier, she shifted, giving plenty of room for him to sit and resumed reading her book. She withheld a smile upon hearing a heavy sigh and his encroaching footsteps as he continued to walk towards her.

"Hi," she offered softly when he sat down and set his belongings on the floor.

"I wasn't expecting you to be here," he quipped, refusing to look at her.

Clearly.

"It was your suggestion we study together," she reminded him.

"Thought I was too much of a distraction?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

He hummed lowly, saying nothing further as he opened a textbook.

"So we're just not going to talk?" Hermione implored, hoping to get a rise out of him. Instead, he remained irritatingly neutral, sparing her a brief glance.

"We have a test to study for, remember?"

Minutes passed and Hermione only grew more wary as time and silence drug on. Pressing her tongue into her cheek, she decided to take a chance and try something new. She initially made small movements, maneuvering closer in hopes he would stop reading to make a snarky remark; he didn't. So she set her book down, followed by plucking his own from his hands and tossed it over her shoulder. In the event he would try and reach for it, she quickly draped herself across him and straddled his thighs.

In the end, she mentally praised herself for wearing jeans today.

"Granger, what the hell—" Draco asked, bewildered while Hermione shrugged innocently, lacing her fingers behind his neck.

"You looked like you could use a study break."

"I just got here," he deadpanned.

"Well, I think you're due for a break," she retorted cheekily, taking note of his hands coming to rest on her waist.

"You seem confident," he noted, gesturing to her lack of a textbook.

"I stayed up most of the night studying," she supplied, already preparing herself for his—

"You what?" He tossed out angrily.

"I couldn't sleep, anyways. Don't change the subject, Malfoy. This conversation is long overdue."

"Back to it again, I see," he grumbled.

"Back to what—?"

"Nothing. It's fine," he interrupted flatly, succumbing when she gave him an expectant look. "Very well," he sighed dejectedly, then fixated on her. "Are you going to get up?"

Avoiding his eyes, she cleared her throat. "I actually kind of like it here."

When he finally let himself smile, Hermione took that as a victory.

Until he leaned closer, his warm breath grazing her ear.

"You won't like it if you expect us to talk, love." He shifted his hips and her voice was lost as she was made aware of a certain stiffness that wasn't there before.

Her eyes fluttered close, feeling her cheeks rapidly heat at his term of endearment.

"R-right," she stammered, quickly climbing off his lap and resuming her seat beside him. Giving a few minutes for her to get situated, she resumed. "To start, I wanted to clarify what happened when I left for Azkaban. I don't know what your father told you, but all we did was talk."

And threatened him within an inch of his life but that's entirely irrelevant.

"I'm not angry because you went to see my father, Granger," Draco supplied, leaning forward to brace himself with his elbows on his knees.

"Then why?"

"Because you purposefully put yourself in the worst place on the planet—"

"Clearly, you haven't seen Muggle public schools—" she attempted to joke.

"—with no one to help if he, or someone else, did something to harm you—"

Wait. What?

"—he's unstable. He could have fucking hurt you—"

"Malfoy, slow down. It was a civil conversation," she treaded lightly. "No one was hurt. There were Aurors on the other side of the door. It was completely safe—"

"Safe?" He parroted with an edge. "I spent weeks detained in that wretched place during the trials. Just about everyone who's a prisoner there wants you dead. Few prefer you alive but I guarantee if you ever fell into their hands, you'd wished you were dead." At her wince, he pressed on in bitter tones. "The one next to me loved to go on about having 'fun' with the Muggleborn girls in our year. He mentioned you. Several times. Addressed you as 'Potter's girl.' Thought it would have gotten him extra points with the Dark Lord if he ever got his hands on you."

She felt her gut lurch, and not in a good way.

Grimacing, she stood, having the sudden need for air. She walked over to the balcony and braced against the rails, grateful this side of the tower faced away from the castle so no one could spot them. She stared out into the darkening skies, taking in the ambience of twilight. There, she heard the occasional owl flying by, along with encroaching footsteps from behind.

"I've fought against these people for years," she permitted, feeling his presence beside her. "I've confronted them—I've dueled them."

"Were you ever alone when you fought them?"

"There were Aurors everywhere—"

"Witches and wizards have escaped from Azkaban before," he quipped exhaustively, turning his head to face her. Hermione clenched her jaw, knowing she didn't have a sustainable argument to follow up. She looked down, staring at her feet, and he sighed. "What I don't understand is why you waited to go until I was unconscious." Her eyes widened when she looked over her shoulder, confounded as she witnessed his conflict. "I wouldn't have stopped you, you know. I would have—" he paused, leaving her wishing she knew what he was going to say. "I wish you hadn't kept it to yourself."

For what felt like the millionth time this month, she was rendered completely speechless by this man.

"To be fair, I don't think I fully accepted the truth of why I went until recently," she finally admitted with soft tones. "That is, the day you were injured was when I realized I cared for you more than I wanted to admit," she paused, collecting herself. "I felt so angry that this happened to you, but I didn't know what else to do. The Cabbotts had already been taken into custody and I still felt like someone else needed to take responsibility for what happened. To take blame."

A few moments of silence passed over them as her words fell.

"You can't fix everything that's broken, Granger," Draco told her, shaking his head. "Don't you know that by now?"

"That doesn't mean I can't try," she said with a lift, and he scoffed, stepping away from the rails.

She swiftly followed him inside, hot on his trail as he endured his own internal crisis.

"I'm far from anything worth saving, Granger. And you," he turned suddenly, and his eyes were burning into her, "should never risk your life for me."

You've found something that makes you happy and you are willing to do everything in your power to keep it.

Luna's words were spiraling wildly, and they've never felt more true.

"You can't stop me from doing what I believe is right. Whether you like it or not, you've become important to me—"

He grabbed her by the shoulders with a grip just firm enough to derail her tangent and pulled her closer.

"You're gravely mistaken if you think I am more important than you."

She barely managed a shaky breath before he kissed her fiercely. His hands trailed up her neck to cradle her face, coercing her to tilt her head back as he stepped into her.

This.

She missed this.

The feel of him. The thrill she got whenever they touched. Whenever he showed how much he wanted her.

She pressed back and the low rumble of his groan went straight down as she melted against him.

When he pulled away, her eyes opened slowly to find him looking at her with a softness in his eyes. Then, she smiled.

"Guess we'll have to settle on agreeing to disagree, then."

"Fine. Just never do that again," he insisted, noticeably less hostile than before.

Hermione tilted her head with a playful glint in her eye. "I'll consider it," she replied jokingly, and Draco huffed, tossing her a look of irritation.

"I think you're going to kill me one day."

"I'll make sure it's a good way to go," she shot back, smirking at him. "Luckily for you, I have no intentions of going back any time soon."

"Good," he noted dually, his hands dropping from her face. "I can't imagine any conversation with him would have you running back."

"It wasn't all terrible," she said, shrugging. "He was relatively cooperative, all things considered." She smiled when the corner of his lips twitched. "He provided more than I expected."

"Such as?"

As quickly as it came, her smile dropped.

Her parents.

He'd brought up her parents.

As far as she knew, her parent's relocation wasn't public knowledge. But somehow, Lucius Malfoy knew. Perhaps Draco was right; she shouldn't have gone to Azkaban.

"Granger?" He implored, a question forming as he watched her inquisitively.

"He knew about my parents," she exhaled in a shaky breath and he furrowed his brows.

"He's met them before," he reminded.

"Yes, I know. It's not what you think. He brought them up, and I swear I didn't know it going in but he knew. He knew what happened to them." Hermione looked up to find Draco frowning at her. "They moved to Australia during the war, to ensure their safety. I originally had plans to visit them over the summer but the trials took precedence so it's—" she cut off her rambling, swallowing to keep her voice from cracking. "It's been a while since I've seen them."

It was a simple concept; cast a memory charm with the notion that she could easily lift it when it was safe to see them again. Though as time progressed, there was the slightest hesitation that developed within her. That after spending more than a year in another continent, they preferred their lives as Wendell and Monica Wilkins. That their lives were better off without having known magic; without knowing about the danger they were in with their previous identities. Not to mention the little knowledge known about the effects of long-term memory charms. Maybe part of her feared what she would find at the other end after being hopeful after all this time.

"They haven't moved back?"

She shook her head.

It wasn't a lie and was fully believable on its own. Yet, she could tell he saw right through her half truth. In hindsight, the reasoning for him doing so made sense. Why wouldn't they relocate back to their home? If only to ensure their only daughter was safe and unharmed. In his clever, calculating gaze, she could see him putting the pieces together, and it wouldn't be long before he understood exactly what happened. What she'd done for them.

"It's your turn," she said abruptly, desperate to change topics. Despite his obvious suspicions, he didn't press.

It was moments like this which showcased how she came to fall for him in the first place.

"For?" He prompted.

"You still haven't answered my question from earlier." To which, a scintillating grin grew.

"Still on about that, are we?"

"It's only fair," she teased, grinning back.

"Well, you know how I feel about 'being fair,'" he retorted mockingly, following with a mischievous smirk. "It doesn't exist in my world."

Then, it was moments like this which made her wonder why she had to fall for someone as infuriating as Draco Malfoy.

Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms and donned her best swotty voice. The one she knew everyone, including most teachers, despised.

"One of these days, Malfoy, you're going to fall face flat in my world with no way out—"

"I find that highly unlikely—" he drawled.

"—and you're going to think it's positively atrocious because it revolves around fairness. And anyone who doesn't play fair—"

"What? They get punished?" His voice had a teasing lift, and she could make out the beginnings of a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

Hermione held her breath; choked on it.

Any and all words left her as he approached her, his grey eyes dancing over her face.

"Are you going to punish me, Granger?" He added, taking another step towards her and delighting in her hasty step backwards, nearly tripping over her own feet.

When her back met a wall, she shivered. This was not at all what she had intended. Instead, she found herself tilting her head back, waiting for him to get rid of the residual space so their heaving chests touched. Meanwhile, his breath was deep and steady. Her heart was pounding. His eyes, dark and flashing, and waiting. Waiting for her to say something.

"Is that what you want?"

"One day, perhaps," he permitted, tilting her chin upwards so their eyes met. "One day, I'll tell you," he amended in the form of a promise. "I'm not quite ready to disclose that information just yet. Besides," she gasped when his head dipped down, "I have another question for you," he said, letting his lips brush the side of her neck before slowly leaning back, pausing to watch her face.

"What makes you think I'll answer it?" She retorted with a distinct lack of a bite.

Smirking, he leaned back down to press a lingering kiss on her pulse point. "Because you're you," he mused, "it's against your nature to leave a question answered."

Gods, she hated him.

Except she didn't. Far from it.

"Blaise told me you went dress shopping in Hogsmeade yesterday." His tone was low and crisp, and his hands were warm and firm on her waist.

Anticipation crept and desire flooded her when he nuzzled her neck, her nails digging into his black coat as he left soft kisses in his path. Since fifth, she never truly understood why he voluntarily chose to wear a suit whenever they were given the opportunity to dress casually. Though over the past few months, she grew to appreciate his impeccable style of dress. Which also, included many layers.

Nowadays, she had the inexplicable urge to tear off all these layers with her bare teeth.

With frantic hands, she pushed at his suit coat until he shrugged it off, sending it flying towards the lounge. Before the article hit the cushions, his mouth was already back on her skin, his hands working at her own clothes.

"Did you find one?" He questioned huskily, and she felt the top buttons of her shirt opening. How he thought she would be able to be coherent enough to answer, she didn't know. Or perhaps that was the intention.

"Answer me, Granger."

She sucked in a breath, gripping his cashmere jumper, which, unsurprisingly, was also black. "Yes," she eventually answered, yelping when he nipped lightly at her ear.

"What does it look like?" He asked, tugging at her partially opened blouse. In the midst of her haze, it registered that despite having touched her bare chest, he still hadn't seen her. She could still felt the ghost of his touch on her skin from their encounter weeks ago. She remembered the haste, the urgency. And she craved to feel it again.

"Can't say. Would ruin the surprise," she breathed in a haze, steadying herself while he peeled her shirt off her shoulders. When her top landed in a heap on the floor, his eyes remained focused upwards. Surely, her hair was unruly and her face was flushed with six different shades of red. Yet as he stared in awe, he looked like he'd never seen a more beautiful sight.

When his eyes eventually lowered, the silver in his eyes disappeared completely.

Hermione swallowed, her breaths coming out as shallow pants as he traced the edge of her bra with a near criminal level of restraint that had her pulling his hips closer and arching her body towards him.

"A surprise?" he taunted, his lips brushing over the tops of her breasts. "Color me intrigued."

A small whine escaped her when the strap of her bra was brushed off her right shoulder, exposing a new expanse of skin, and she'd nearly breached her breaking point. She was seconds away from reaching behind and unclasping the damn thing herself when something else snagged her attention.

"Wait." She froze, quickly pressing her palms against his chest and pushing with all the willpower she was able to muster. "Do you hear that?"

With cascading silence, it didn't take long for them to pinpoint what she'd heard.

Rampant bubbling, in what should be an otherwise silent room.

"Our potion!" Hermione cried in horror, watching as a bright pink foam bubbled over the top of the cauldron and spill over onto the counter.

Draco cursed, instantly hurling himself towards the concoction while she took a minute to collect herself. After grabbing her discarded shirt from the floor, she walked up next to him, witnessing their potion pulse in conjunction to her irregularly pounding chest before it began to settle. Whether from his stasis charms or her steadily regulating heartbeat, she didn't know. They did take notice of the delay before it started to react to their combined unruly emotion. As a reminder that while their potion was nearing its completion, they still had a few weeks before the next full moon; when it would reach its final stage and become stable.

"I suppose that means we should probably stop," Hermione stated, hating for sounding as breathless as she did while having such words coming out of her mouth. Her lungs felt like she'd just run up and down several flights of stairs.

Meanwhile, Draco frowned, lips ruddy and the heat had gone from his eyes while he started at the cauldron. "Probably," he agreed, his own breaths slowly coming to normal. "We do have a test tomorrow."

With her blouse back on and buttoned, she stepped into his side and peered up at him with a playful glint. "Perhaps you could tell me about this study method of yours? But only if it doesn't involve taking my clothes off."

To which, Draco tilted his head back and laughed, and after one final rumble, the potion was still for the rest of the night.

A/n: Because this world needs more Luna Lovegood. And Dramione, of course :)