The Makings of an Auror

The Makings of an Auror

Chapter 03

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"Maybe this isn't a good idea," he said, but she had already fallen asleep. But then he heard her speak.

"I love you too Draco..."

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Draco sat there, frozen, trying to sort out what he had just heard. Had Hermione really just said she loved him? And she said 'too'. Draco definitely thought that if he had ever told Hermione Granger I love you, he'd be throwing himself off a cliff the next second. Either that or he'd be dealing with Potter. She was probably dreaming, he assured himself. He drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

***

Hermione yawned and cuddled up next to the warm object lying next to her. The object stirred and mumbled something about mashed potatoes. She grumpily opened one eye.

What she saw nearly made her fall out of bed. She was in the arms of a sleeping, shirtless Draco Malfoy, and he was muttering incoherently in his sleep. Hermione stifled a gasp and quietly tried to move his arms off of her back, but she didn't want to risk waking him. She slowly began to stand up, but he stirred and grabbed her shirt, pulling her back down to the bed.

"Draco..." she gasped, trying to relieve his death grip off of her shirt. "You're..."

"Hermione?" he said sleepily, his eyes still closed. He seemed to be half-awake, half-asleep.

"Yes?" she asked quietly, hoping he might fall asleep again, and release her shirt.

"I want another cookie!" he wailed, in a child-like voice. Completely thrown off by this sudden statement, she burst out laughing. He woke up fully, glancing around quickly.

"What?" he said, confused. He quickly realized she was in his arms, and he was grasping her shirt that was dangerously close to revealing her chest. "Oh shi-...oops," he muttered. "What the heck is going on?" he asked, letting go of her shirt.

"Nothing, nothing at all," she replied quickly, massaging her throat. Draco rubbed his eyes sleepily.

"It's too early," he mumbled, turning over, exposing his back to her. (A/N: Hermione at least gets to see a little flesh :p)

"Wait a minute," she paused, leaning closer. She was gazing at his back.

"What?" Draco asked.

"Hold on," she replied. There was a long, thin scar that ran from his left shoulder to his waist. "Draco what happened-."

"Let me sleep," he mumbled in an aggravated tone, also one that clearly stated the conversation was closed. She sighed, but a strange expression came over her face.

"I'll give you another cookie," Hermione whispered into his ear. Draco straightened up.

"What are you talking about Hermione? I swear I just don't get you this morning--"

"Nothing, nothing at all Draco," she smiled. "Come on," she said, throwing a pillow in his direction. "Let's get going." She looked down and realized she hadn't changed out of the t-shirt and pants she had worn yesterday. But, she assumed, that if they were going to do another physical challenge, she had better stay in the ones she had on. Pulling her hair up in a bun, she tried not to watch as Draco freely changed in front of her. (A/N: Tried. She'll eventually give in. But he keeps his old trousers on.)

"What do you suppose we'll be doing today?" he asked in a dignified manner, pulling his shirt on and following her out of the room.

"Your guess is as good as mine," she replied, as the lift's doors closed.

"But mine's better."

***

Everything appeared to be the same as the day before; people taking tests, doing drills, instructors screaming orders in their ears. Hermione didn't know what they were going to do, but she was prepared for the worst.

"Granger? Malfoy?" someone from behind them asked. Hermione clenched her teeth together and turned around.

"Yes, that's us," Draco replied, nudging Hermione hard in the back, making her stumble.

"You're in classroom C today. Right over there," he grunted. Hermione followed Draco to the door, and he opened it quietly. The door creaked as it open, and Hermione felt Draco flinch as it squealed in protest. The door revealed a plain classroom filled with students...and a teacher.

"Ahh Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy. How good of you to join us. But you're five minutes late. Sit down." The teacher fixed her stern glare on the two of them as they headed for the nearest seats.

"As I was saying," she continued. "We were just talking about different hexes and curses. Ones that you should get used to feeling and performing. Let's just say that if you ever come into a duel with Death Eaters, or even, God forbid, Lord Voldemort himself, they're not going to use a silly leg-locker curse on you. Aurors and Albus Dumbledore are the only things that stand in Voldemort's way. So. If you pass this training camp, you will need to responsibly act as a sensible Auror. This means being prepared for anything, and everything. Never leave without your wand. This is normally your only means of protection.

"If you were to come across a death eater, what would you do?" the teacher asked. A woman bounced enthusiastically in her chair in front of Draco, her hand in the air. He was instantly reminded of a younger Hermione.

"Well, first you should bind them up or something, in case they try and escape. Then use an immobilizing curse and levitate them back someplace where they can be identified and properly accused of their wrongdoings." The woman finished and looked proud of herself. Hermione raised her hand quickly.

"Yes Ms....umm, Ms--" the teacher started.

"Granger, it's Granger," Hermione replied. "I think it depends solely on the circumstances. It would be hard to say how you would deal with a death eater." The female teacher gazed at Hermione thoughtfully for a moment.

"Do tell," she instructed.

"What if one had just suffered the Cruciatus Curse? You would not be in fit shape to handle a strong death eater. Or what if one was injured, or wounded? This all has to be thought over before you take action, or it could cost you your life."

"Excellent Ms. Granger. You see class, how she thought of what she was going to do and say before she would go and confront the death eater? This is the kind of thinking it takes to be an Auror! This is what it's all about!" the teacher exclaimed. Draco saw the woman who had answered the earlier question turn and glare at Hermione. Hermione, meanwhile, was beet red. The teacher drew out her wand, and the class automatically flinched.

"Have any of you ever had the Cruciatus Curse put on you? Be truthful now, don't be afraid to raise your hand." Nobody did anything, and perhaps she had expected this, because she was about to speak when Draco slowly raised his hand. The teacher was shocked for a minute.

"Do you have a question dear?" the teacher asked. Draco inwardly groaned.

"No, I was answering your question. About the Cruciatus Curse." Everybody was silent and had his or her attention fixed on Draco. The teacher made an odd choking noise.

"Well, surely it must have been an accident, if you...at such a young age too..."

"I get it all the time," Draco replied coolly. The teacher cleared her throat quickly and the class nervously returned their attention to her.

"My name is Ms. Burton, and I am your teacher for charms and hexes, basically everything you need to do with your wands. Here is how things are going to work today. We'll be putting numerous curses on you and see how you handle it. When I call your name, come up to the front of the room. Any questions?" She drew out a list of names and adjusted her horn-rimmed spectacles. "Anderson, Aubrey?" Aubrey, who was a couple of seats away, stood up and flipped her hair back, and then she walked, or strutted to the front of the room.

"Have you heard of the Vilagance Hex?" Ms. Burton asked. Aubrey looked thoughtful for a minute.

"No."

"The Vilagance Hex makes the victim blind." A few people leaned over their desks, trying to catch every word she was about to say. "There is a counter curse for it, but I won't teach it to you until you feel the full effects of the actual spell first," Ms. Burton said simply. Aubrey stiffened. "Are you ready?"

"Erm...yes," Aubrey said slowly

Ms. Burton raised her wand and shouted, "Vilaganrio!" Aubrey shouted out and placed both hands over her eyes.

"Bloody hell I can't see!" she shrieked. Everyone in the class laughed as she stretched both her arms out and began feeling around. "Do the counter curse, do the counter curse!" she shouted. Ms. Burton tried hard not to smile and preformed the counter curse. Aubrey blinked her eyes a few times and looked at the room around her.

"Ha-ha. Very funny," Aubrey scowled, and went back to her seat.

"See that class?" Ms. Burton asked. "That was an example of the Vilagance Hex. This can come in handy at times, but I doubt you'll need it much. You'll be more worried about other things than making somebody blind. Next: Barman, George?" Hermione watched as George Barman became speechless, literally, and as Anna Darci came under the control of the Lamentus Spell, making her unable to look at anyone or anything without making it explode. Hermione was just about to nod off to sleep when she heard,

"Granger, Hermione?" Hermione's head shot up, and she slowly stood up. Draco tensed next to her, his fists clenched. She approached the front of the room and stood next to Ms. Burton. "Hmm...strangely enough," she muttered, walking around Hermione and examining her. Ms. Burton brought out her wand and took Hermione's wrist in her hand. Then, she did a few spells, which involved a lot of blue-ish green light to appear. But the teacher just released Hermione's wrist and went back to examining her.

"Granger, what is your family history?" Ms. Burton asked.

"Family History? Umm, muggles, that's mostly what I know. I did a bit of research on my heritage and the only source I have for wizard blood is in my great uncle, but even then he was a squib," she replied, slightly taken back.

"That rules out any other possibilities...anyway, Ms. Granger, could you see me a week from now, in classroom F?" Ms. Burton asked quietly, trying to block others out of the conversation.

"Umm, yes, that would be fine," Hermione replied, aware of the class staring at them. Ms. Burton smiled.

"I also have another favor to ask of you Ms. Granger." Hermione nodded.

"Would you allow me to perform the Cruciatus Curse on you?" Hermione's eyes grew wide with shock, and there was a crash from the back of the room. Draco had knocked his chair over in the process of standing up. Everyone turned to look at him.

"You can't do that!" he protested. "You can't just go on and on about some crazy family history story, and then waltz right back up to her saying, 'Oh, by the way, can I do Cruciatus on you?" Hermione froze, rooted to the ground in shock. Draco...defended her? Or maybe he wanted to do the hurting part to her himself, she wasn't sure.

"Mr. Malfoy, calm yourself--," Ms. Burton started.

"You don't even know what it feels like do you?" he asked, eyes glowing. "You've never had Cruciatus have you?" The teacher stuttered and Draco crossed his arms defiantly.

"Maybe she could...try?" Hermione interrupted. Draco and Ms. Burton turned to her.

"Hermione, no--."

"You'd let me?"

"Hermione just stop."

"Both of you!" Hermione practically shouted. "Draco, let me do what I want, and Ms. Burton, yes I will let you perform Cruciatus." The room was deadly silent, and nobody made a noise. Hermione was avoiding Draco's eyes. The look he was giving her wasn't one she liked. He bent down and straightened his chair, and sat down quietly, his expression unreadable. Ms. Burton cleared her throat and stepped away from Hermione, shaking her wand hand before transferring the wand from her left hand to her right.

"Are you--," Ms. Burton began.

"Yes, just do it," Hermione demanded, and she closed her eyes. Ms. Burton paused for a minute before saying the spell.

"Crucio!" she shouted.

Everything went quiet.

Hermione clenched her fists, expecting extreme pain, but it never came. She slowly opened her eyes and gasped. She was surrounded in thick white mist. Hermione slowly walked a few feet before turning around and looking at her surroundings again. Hermione saw something move to her left and she spun around again. A man was walking up to her, but she couldn't see his face.

"Hermione?" he asked.

"Who are you?"

"Who am I? Well, I can't tell you yet," the man said. Hermione looked confused.

"Why can't you tell me who you are?" she asked, somewhat desperately. "What's going on?"

"I can't tell you who I am because you'll find out soon enough."

"You're confusing me," Hermione started. "Where am I?"

"Right now, you are in a subconscious state. In other words, you're dreaming."

"How can I be dreaming? My head hurts like hell and I just pinched myself and felt it. Explain that."

"You're not dead you know," the person said casually, conjuring up a chair out of mid-air and sitting down. "You're--."

"In a subconscious state, I know. Tell me something I'm not aware of."

"You're cute when you're mad," the person offered. Hermione glared.

"You remind me a lot of someone I know," she said, folding her arms. "It's almost as if you were--."

"Draco?"

"How do you know about him?" Hermione demanded. "You must be him then."

"I'm in your thoughts. See? Where are we now?"

"My subconscious state, and don't make me say it again or I'll hurt you."

"Spot on, about the subconscious part. Now first of all, I can read your thoughts as easily as a book. Second of all, you can't hurt me, because technically I'm not real."

"If you can read my thoughts, what am I thinking now?" Hermione asked.

"You're thinking about him."

"Him who?"

"I don't know, all I can tell is that you're thinking of someone, and that someone is a guy."

"This is stupid," Hermione declared. "What am I doing here? Why can't I get out?"

"You're not conscious yet," he responded. Hermione made a noise of impatience.

"I noticed that."

"You're about to be awoken though," the person informed her.

Just as soon as he had said this, the mist disappeared and she found herself in the classroom.

"Hermione?" someone was asking.

"Harry?" she asked quietly. Draco's head slid into focus. Damn...she thought.

"Ms. Granger, are you alright?" Ms. Burton asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," Hermione said, and she suddenly realized she was lying down on the floor. She sat up so quickly that everyone gasped. "What happened?"

"Well...you repelled the curse." Ms. Burton was gazing at her curiously. Draco was paler, if that was possible.

"I did...what?" she asked, grabbing Draco's arm.

"Repelled the curse. At first we thought you were just stunned, but you blasted it away, and held it out in front of you, the curse that is, and--," Draco explained, but Hermione cut him short.

"Held? I...I..." Her grip on Draco's arm began to relax, and she fainted.

***

After class, Draco was absolutely furious.

"I can't believe she did that to you," he shouted. Draco ran his hand though his hair, making it stand up in all directions. It was exactly the thing Harry would do.

"It wasn't...too bad," she exclaimed, holding the damp cloth up to her forehead. "Gee Draco, why do you care so much?" she added innocently. Draco made a noise of impatience.

"Come off it. Nobody deserves having to go through that curse unless they're working for Voldemort or something. You'd have thought she was just waltzing up to invite you to tea, but no." Draco stopped, searching in his pockets for the map. Hermione briefly wondered if she should tell Draco about the dream she had, but thought better of it.

"Aha. Here, next lesson. We need to be...over there," Draco said, pointing to another section of the building. They began walking and Hermione took the map out of Draco's hands.

"Ooh! Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts. This should be good," she commented eagerly.

"I wonder who will be teaching this time. We've had a demon-possessed Quirrel, poncy git Lockhart, a werewolf, death-eater Mad Eye Moody impersonator, boy-crazy Veela woman (authors note: I used Fleur for the fifth year DADA professor, as there are so many rumours of her taking the job for the fifth book), and a vampire. They might as well give the job to a dementor."

"Ha-ha, very funny."

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was very...dark. Hermione sat down in one of the chairs, trying to keep her eyes firmly fixed on the center of the room, because she could have sworn the walls were crawling. There was a raised platform with a table and chair. Draco was humming placidly to himself, trying to keep things cheerful, but when people glared at him, he quickly stopped. He spun around in his chair as a long, audible creaking sound emitted from the door at the front of the room. A young man stepped out, carrying a large, heavy box full of interesting looking objects. He was wearing a long sleeved shirt and had sandy-blonde hair.

"Well hello class!" he smiled, as if he hadn't been expecting them. "I've got a real treat for you today, and I think you're going to enjoy it." He crossed the room and deposited the heavy box on an unused table. "Alrighty. My name is Jonathan Lambert, your Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Call me Mr. Lambert, John, Johnny, whatever suits your taste." He gave everyone a grin that made Hermione's inside's melt. "Today! Very exciting lesson. There's an old saying, a wizarding saying, that goes: Never trust anything if you can't see where it keeps its brain. Actually, I really have no clue if that'll come in handy today, I just thought it was cool." Everyone laughed, and Draco glanced at Hermione, who was listening with rapt attention. "Partially, it could be used to describe today's lesson. There's this spell. It's a very special spell that allows you to look past the outside of an object and look within. This comes in handy in two ways. One: it could be used to examine an object, which may contain Dark Magic. Or two: on a person. For example: the Hand of Glory. Gives light to only the bearer. Very useful if you plan to steal something." Mr. Lambert walked over and grabbed something out of the box. And it was, indeed, the Hand of Glory. "Here. The very object itself. We will use this as an example today. I'd like a volunteer..." Nearly every woman in the classroom anxiously raised her hand, including Hermione. Mr. Lambert looked around the room. "Hmm...ok, how about you?" He pointed directly at Hermione. In an instant, she had stood up and hurried to the front of the room, her cheeks flushed.

"Well hello there. What might your name be?"

"Hermione Granger," she replied, somewhat breathlessly.

"Hermione. Beautiful name. Anyway. I called you up here to perform a little spell for me. I do take it you've heard of the Evincement spell?" Hermione nodded hurriedly.

"The name was coined from the word evince, which means to show plainly."

"Spot on. Well the Evincement Spell does exactly the same thing. If you point your wand at this object," Mr. Lambert said, holding up the Hand of Glory, "and say the Evincement Spell properly, you should be able to see a faint, glowing blue light in the center. This indicates there is Dark Magic inside the object. What I want you to do is stand here." He positioned her in front of a table in the center of the room. "And say Eviticus. As soon as you want to end the spell, you say, evincio. Is everything clear?"

"Crystal," Hermione grinned.

"All right then, have a go at it." He stepped back and gave her some room. Hermione gripped her wand confidently and said,

"Eviticus!" The world around her immediately went black. At first, she thought that she had accidentally said the wrong spell and made herself blind. But a bright glowing light caught her glance. She could barely make out the outline of the object, but it was most definitely the Hand of Glory. The blue light was luminous in the darkness, and she grinned despite herself. "Evincio!" she shouted. The room came into focus. Mr. Lambert was beaming.

"That was fantastic! You saw the light didn't you?"

"I did, and it is a very useful spell," she commented.

"Excellent. You may have a seat Ms. Granger." Mr. Lambert indicated her chair in the back of the room. Hermione gratefully stepped down from the raised platform and walked back over to her desk, sat down, grinning from ear to ear.

"How was it?" Draco asked.

"It was fascinating! You would have loved it."

"Loved it? You saw a blue light, how exciting can that be?" But Hermione didn't answer; she just kept her gaze fixed on the teacher, an odd expression on her face.

***

"I really like this place," Hermione grinned, throwing her head back and flopping down onto the bed. Draco and Hermione had just gotten back from the training area.

"It's ok, I guess," Draco replied, removing his shoes and setting them next to the bed.

"What's got you in a bad state?" Hermione said suddenly, sitting up with a scowl. Draco coughed, and it sounded oddly like Lockhart.

"What does Lockhart have to do with this?"

"That Lambert guy."

"What about Lambert?"

"He is just so...Lockhart."

"He's nothing like Lockhart," Hermione replied furiously, but her cheeks were steadily accumulating a rosy color.

"I remember watching you, seeing your expressions every time Lockhart entered a room, or smiled, or said something to you. You were head-over-heels Hermione."

"Watching me? That's funny. You mean when you despised me?"

"Who says I don't now?"

"Shut up," she replied angrily.

"When that Lambert guy came in, your whole attitude changed."

"Are you saying I fancy him? Good God Draco, the man must be at least twenty-one. And he's a teacher. I'd be stupid to fall in love with a teacher. And besides, I have Harry don't I? Fine, if you want to be that way, then it's fine by me."

"You realize you just said the word 'fine' twice? Buy a thesaurus, it's a bookworm's best friend."

Hermione angrily stood up, glaring at him. "You're so...immature!" she shouted, and she ran out of the hotel room and slammed the door.

***

Hermione ran through the lobby and flew out of the front doors. She ran, and kept running until she could hardly breathe. Running into a park, she found a nice shady tree that blocked everything else from view. She slumped down and leaned against the trunk, her head in her knees.

"Harry, I wish you were here," she mumbled quietly, tracing her finger along the loose pieces of bark, chipping a few off and throwing them into the lake nearby. Sighing, she closed her eyes.

"Hermione, come on, you're so slow!" Harry teased, running through the snow effortlessly. Hermione clomped behind him.

"It's these dratted boots! I can't do anything in them!" She walked a few more paces before stumbling, falling into the snow face first, laughing. Harry's face appeared over her.

"Hello snow angel, where did you come from?" he grinned.

"Harry, come on, help me up," she smiled, extending her hand out to him. He made no move to help her.

"Harry James Potter..." she scowled, making a swipe at him.

"Ah!" he replied, catching her wrist. "You have to kiss me first!"

"But what about--." She was cut off when he pressed his lips gently to hers, toppling down into the snow with her. Harry was never a harsh, crazy kisser. He was always so careful, so tender, treating her like a glass doll that would break at the slightest pressure. She was about to wrap her arms around his neck when he pulled away.

"Look," he whispered, turning his head up towards the sky. "It's snowing." Snowflakes had begun to fall and they landed in his hair, making him look twenty years older.

"It's beautiful," she murmured sleepily, letting her head drop back down so it was resting on the ground.

"No, you're beautiful," was Harry's short, sweet reply. He kissed her on the forehead.

"I love you Harry," she grinned.

"Love you too Herm."

With a gasp, Hermione jerked awake, rubbing her eyes. She found that she was crying, and she wiped her eyes hurriedly using the collar of her shirt.

"You're awake," a voice said. Hermione spun around.

"Draco, I--Mr. Lambert! What are you doing here?"

"Draco? I'm not Draco, whoever he may be. I was just passing by when I heard somebody muttering and crying. And I found you." He was wearing the same long sleeved sweatshirt, and his blue eyes twinkled mischievously.

"I was muttering?" she asked sheepishly.

"Something about Harry, kisses, and snowflakes," Mr. Lambert said thoughtfully. "But I could have misheard." He searched in his pocket for something, and then he drew out a handkerchief. "Here, you look like you could use it."

"Thank you," Hermione said, taking the handkerchief, but she didn't use it.

"Something troubling you?" Mr. Lambert asked, sitting next to her in the grass.

"Well...no, actually, not really. I've just been a little depressed lately. It's only been two days but I still miss everyone back at Hogwarts--."

"Hogwarts? You're a professor then."

"Oh no, I'm a student actually. Head Girl to be exact."

"A student?" Mr. Lambert echoed in disbelief. "Oh I see. So you're the one everyone was talking about. Didn't you have a friend or something?"

"Yes, that would be Draco."

"It's really amazing that you are so young, yet have the quality and potential to be an Auror. How old are you?"

"Seventeen. I turn eighteen in September, so I still have a year to go before I'm of legal age to do magic."

"That's excellent," he beamed.

"Mr. Lambert--."

"Call me Jonathan, or, whatever you want. Mr. Lambert makes me sound like an old man."

"There's nothing wrong with being an old man," Hermione giggled.

"Right you are Hermione, or would you prefer it if I called you Ms. Granger," he grinned.

"Oh, Hermione is fine. Anyway, Jonathan," Hermione replied, saying his name as if it were foreign. "You're an Auror too right?"

"Yes I am. Haven't really worked on anything special yet though. I am, after all, nineteen."

"Woah! That's pretty young to be a teacher and an Auror," Hermione commented.

"I turn twenty in a month, so I'm not too young," he replied. "Besides, it's just a temporary job. I'm filling in as a substitute this year. I think the old Advanced DADA teacher had a nasty bout of the flu and never recovered, but I think he went mad. It was, after all, Alastor Moody. Are you sure you're ok?" He eyed her with uneasiness. "You look like you could be sick."

"No, I'll be just fine."

"So would you mind accompanying me to...I dunno, dinner or something? You can bring your friend," he assured her quickly.

"Dinner?"

"Of course you don't want to, I'll just be on my way--."

"Dinner sounds great!" Hermione replied. "My friend doesn't really need to come. He's always busy," she muttered harshly. "It's not a...well, date or anything, right?"

"No, no, no. Not at all," he said quickly. "Besides. I'm your teacher right?" He winked at her slyly. "I'll pick you up here tonight. Is seven o'clock all right?"

"That sounds okay. Should I dress casual, or a little more formal?"

"I'd go formal, but whatever works best for you. I wouldn't mind if you showed up in what you're wearing now..." He glanced down at her old t-shirt and her worn jeans.

"All right, I'll come formal."

"Excellent. I'll see you then!"

***

Draco was sitting on his bed, reading his Arithmancy book, when the door to the hotel room opened. Hermione stepped in, looking radiant.

"Hermione what--."

"I'm going to dinner tonight," Hermione said, in a sing-song voice.

"Dinner? With who?"

"Jonathan," she replied innocently. Draco made a choking noise.

"Jonathan Lambert? The Advanced DADA teacher? What the hell are you thinking? He's practically five years older than you!"

"He's two years older than me, don't get your knickers in a twist," she replied harshly. "Besides, it's not a date or anything." She glanced at her watch, and it read five o'clock. "I think I'll go find a muggle salon and get my nails done," Hermione said smartly. "See you later." She grabbed her purse and strode out of the room, leaving Draco gawking after her.

"Hermione! Arhh!"

***

Hermione nervously smoothed her hair, peeking around the corner of the large tree, looking for any sign of Mr. Lam--err, Jonathan. She had dressed formal, wearing her black dress she had worn the other night. Her favorite diamonds adorned her ears and neck, and she had kept true to her word and gotten her nails done by a professional witch. They were a rosy pink color, and the magic-on stars were flashing different colors of red. She made a noise of impatience and sat down at the foot of the tree.

"Aha! Here you are Hermione!" Hermione jumped five feet in the air.

"Jonathan! You scared me!" she replied, clutching her chest.

"Ooh, sorry, I have a tendency to do that to people."

"Either that or I scare easily," Hermione said, still shaking from the effects of being startled.

"Shall we go then?" he said, offering an arm. She awkwardly took it, and they set off at a moderate walking pace down the long sidewalks.

"It's a nice night," she commented, looking up at the sky.

"Yes it is. Supposedly we're supposed to get a bit of snow overnight."

"Snow? It's October."

"It's not entirely unusual to get snow here in October. We sometimes even get it in September."

"It must be lovely then," she grinned.

"Oh yes it is. Not a single object goes without a blanket of white during winter. Ah! Here's the place." Hermione looked down from the sky and her eyes landed on a small, yet cozy looking restaurant. "After you Madame." Jonathan held open the door for her, and she stepped inside eagerly, shrugging her jacket off. The inside was dimly lit, and a roaring fire greeted them. She hung her coat up on the rack and followed Jonathan to a table.

"This is such a quaint little place," Hermione giggled, wrinkling up her nose. "It reminds me of muggle movies I watch, with the cold air, nice comfy rooms, all a perfect setting for a nice dinner for two."

"Muggle movies?"

"I'm muggle born," Hermione muttered.

"No kidding! I am too! What's your favorite movie?"

"Umm, I'd have to say...Casablanca. It's a wonderful story."

"Oh really? I haven't seen it. Tell me about it sometime."

"Sounds good to me. Anyway, what's yours?"

"Oh you know, the bloody, gory type of war movies, lots of action," he began, and Hermione giggled. "Well what did you expect? Something 'Shakespeareistic'?"

"'Shakespeareistic isn't a word," she pointed out.

"You should be a teacher, not me. Grammar and Literature are two of my worst subjects." A waiter approached the table, carrying two menus and two plates. He set them down in front of Hermione and Jonathan.

"Alright, here ye go. What shall it be tonight for ye?" he asked. Hermione choked back a laugh.

"A 'Breakfast for Dinner' plate. God I love those things. What about you Hermione?"

"That sounds good as well. Make it two please," she smiled. The waiter took a minute to write it down before snatching the menus away from them.

"It'll be done in no time at all."

"Breakfast for Dinner? How nutritional," Hermione replied.

"It comes with bacon, toast, eggs, fried ham, biscuits, gravy, everything you can imagine."

"Even if I imagined...oh, let's say mashed potatoes?"

"Umm, maybe not everything." Hermione burst out laughing. "So tell me about Draco," Jonathan said.

"Draco?"

"Yes. You did say his name was Draco right?"

"Yes, yes I did. Draco..." She paused here, her fists clenched. "He's quite the character. He's very...arrogant. Before we were sent here, you could say we were worst enemies." Jonathan was watching her intently. "Maybe now, we're not enemies, but I wouldn't say we were friends, good friends that is. It has, after all, only been two days since we've been here, roughly two days."

"He sounds like someone I used to know," Jonathan said thoughtfully. "We wrote letters, back and forth, all the time. Until he became a Death Eater."

"That's awful," Hermione said sympathetically.

"The food's coming," he said suddenly, and Hermione strained her neck to look behind her. The waiter was approaching the table, carrying a very large platter of food.

"Oh my gosh," she commented. "That is a lot of food."

"That's why I expect you to eat until you absolutely can't stand another bite," he replied.

"Ha-ha, very funny." The waiter set the platter down in-between them, and Hermione anxiously picked up her fork.

"Dig in!"

***

Draco furiously flung his Arithmancy book across the room. He was sick of being bored, sick of sitting there while Hermione was out with the Lambert git, sick of the same old routine every day. There is nothing to do around here, he thought placidly to himself. Grabbing his wallet and jacket, he left the hotel.

The weather outside was decidedly freezing, and Draco wrapped his jacket tighter around himself. Hermione, Hermione, Hermione, he thought. Why was he thinking of Hermione? For God's sake, the woman practically abandoned him just because he mentioned Lockhart and a thesaurus. Now who's the mature one, eh? But his thoughts were interrupted when a loud crash of thunder snapped him back to his senses. Draco spotted a bar just a few blocks away and he hurried over. When he stepped inside, he nearly passed out. The air was thick with smoke, and the scent of alcohol was so strong, it made his nose tickle. He sat down on one of the bar stools. A waitress immediately came to his service.

"What shall it be for you tonight," she asked, in a suggestive voice. If Draco noticed this, he didn't show it.

"One shot of dragon's blood and vodka, that should keep me steady for a bit," he replied, resting his chin on his hands. The woman disappeared behind a curtain, and when she came back, she was holding a glass with a reddish liquid inside it. Draco drained it quickly, feeling the beverage swim in his veins and warm him from his fingertips to his toes.

"Another one, extra Dragon's blood," he demanded.

***

"This is really good," Hermione said, through a mouthful of biscuits and gravy.

"Spectacular," Jonathan commented.

"This night is turning out much better than I thought it would," Hermione admitted.

"Well that's good. Hey Hermione, didn't you say your friend was busy tonight?"

"Yeah, why?"

"He's here." Hermione looked up from her plate and looked towards where Jonathan had pointed.

"Oh my God..."

Draco was standing in the doorway, looking around the restaurant.

"We need to get out of here," Hermione said hurriedly, trying to collect her things.

"He's looking this way," Jonathan assured her. "He doesn't seem to notice you're here. That is, I presume, Draco from earlier right? I remember him glancing at you frequently during the lesson."

"Ha, like Draco would ever stare at me," she muttered placidly, propping her menu in front of her face. "I just hope he doesn't pick the booth...oh no."

Draco had sat down in the booth in front of them.

***

Draco was relieved when he stepped inside the warm restaurant. It was a cozy place, with a roaring fire and the happy chattering of people, but somehow, it seemed slanted.. Draco hung up his jacket and took a few steps, trying to calm his throbbing head, when he heard a familiar voice.

"Oh...my...God..."

"Wait, I think he might be sitting somewhere else," someone else replied. Draco took a few steps closer and picked the nearest booth he could find. He heard a woman groan behind him.

"It'll be fine, I don't think he'll stay long. Besides, why don't you want him here?" Draco strained to here the next words.

"Well, we got into this...I don't know, argument earlier. Reflecting back now, it seems pretty stupid, but I still don't want him here, he could ruin everything."

"If you'd like," Draco began, sticking his head out so he could see. "I could find another booth." He caught sight of whom he was speaking to and nearly laughed. "Hermione?"

"Draco just...go away please. You see?" she muttered angrily to Jonathan. "I told you he'd ruin--."

"I was just coming in here for a cup of coffee. Would you mind?" Draco had indicated the empty spot next to Jonathan. He looked as if he did mind, but he didn't say anything as Draco sat next to him. "Hey you!" he yelled to a waitress. "How 'bout getting me a drink? Coffee please." He left the disgruntled waitress to go off and make his coffee.

"Draco...are you drunk?" Hermione asked slowly and carefully.

"Why would I be drunk?" Draco asked. But a strange look came over his face. "I did stop by the bar for a couple of drinks...but I only had...wait a minute..." He brought up his hand and tried to count but he gave up. "I don't know." The waitress returned with his coffee, and he seized it, splashing coffee on the table.

"I think you should get back to the hotel," Hermione said firmly.

"After my coffee."

"Take your coffee back to the hotel. Fine. If you need me to, I'll get you home."

"But I want--,"

"NO!" She picked up her purse and moved out of the booth. "Jonathan, I'm really sorry--."

"No need to be," he replied, waving his hand.

"Do you want me to pay for all of this?" she asked, indicating the mess.

"It's quite all right. You'd better get him home."

"Thank you so much," she replied, looking truthfully relieved. "We'll have to do this some other time."

"Sounds great. You need any help getting him home?"

"Ha. All I have to do is pretend we're following a group of women in bikinis. Come on Draco," she replied, waving goodbye to Jonathan, grabbing their jackets, and staggering outside.

It had begun to snow, and Hermione hurriedly put on her jacket while Draco tried to chase the snowflakes.

"Come on!" she replied firmly. Draco stopped chasing them and staggered up to Hermione, his movements sluggish.

"I feel sick..." he muttered.

"Hold still," Hermione said, bringing out her wand. "Alchohilis!" The number six appeared at the tip of her wand. "You had six drinks?"

"I think...it might have been sixteen, but then again I can't remember much of anything."

"You're so stupid. What were you doing out here anyway? I can't believe--." She was abruptly cut off when Draco pressed his lips against hers. Hermione stood, frozen to the ground, her eyes wide. Draco tasted like alcohol, and for that, she wasn't surprised. But for some reason, she couldn't get her brain to function properly. She was clearly aware of Draco's mouth against hers, the way he applied slight pressure to his kiss, and his awkward positioning of his hands. But she couldn't bring herself to push him away. Fear brought her back to reality. She blindly reached out for Draco's hand, seized his steaming hot mug of coffee, and mercilessly dumped it down the back of his shirt.

"Hermione!!!!" he shrieked, immediately breaking the kiss and flopping down into the snow, rubbing his back against the frozen ground.

"What...the hell...were you doing..."

"What? What did I...I..." An odd look came across his face, and he collapsed.

"Great! Exactly what I need. Why does this have to happen to me!" She preformed the levitating charm on Draco and she raced off to the suites.

***

Hermione sank exhausted, onto her bed. She was very glad that tomorrow was a Saturday, and that they didn't have to train. She had been sitting up for two hours, trying to get Draco to sleep, and at last he had. He kept muttering things incoherently, and twice he woke up, thinking he was in a spaceship headed for the moon. But now, as she watched him sleep (she didn't quite know why), she felt at peace. But an annoying wave of guilt in her stomach prevented her from falling asleep. Draco had, inexplicably and totally unexpectedly, kissed her. Hermione had only kissed one other person, and that was Harry. She knew Harry very well. She knew his way of thinking, his emotions, even his style of kissing. But Draco was completely foreign to her. Something about him made her scared, yet indescribably comfortable. Her thoughts kept straying to his scent, his taste, and his touch. Damnit Hermione, he was drunk, and you know it, so stop trying to make it into something it's not.

Draco awoke with a splitting headache, and he sat up dizzily, trying to remember what happened.

"Hermione?" he said hoarsely.

"Sleeping beauty awakes," she replied softly, yet there was scorn dripping over her every word. "Now you can tell me what happened, and why you were drunk." Her head swam into focus, and he blinked a couple of times, a confused look on his face.

"I...I don't exactly...I mean I hardly--."

"News flash. You got drunk. You ruined a perfectly good evening. And--." She paused here, her expression blank.

"And?"

"You were a bastard. Why were you drunk?" she repeated.

"I got drunk because...I think I was just walking outside, and I saw this bar, and so I went over there."

"You had six drinks."

"Was it really six? I lost count after the third one."

"What were you doing outside anyway? It was snowing!"

"Oh, I guess it's a crime now to walk outside," he replied smartly. "I'm not the one eating with Mr. No-brains."

"You're just jealous I had a fun-filled evening. That is, until you came along." She folded her arms and sat on the end of his bed. "Do you realize how bad this looks? Mr. Lambert saw you drunk. Drunk, Malfoy. And he's your advanced DADA teacher. Don't you think he'll be a bit disappointed, and maybe give you a detention--."

"So what? I don't care."

"You should bloody well care! Don't you even see how much you ruined my evening? Oh wait, you're too much like your father to even care." Hermione immediately wished she could take it back, but she didn't know how. Draco sat very still, his expression blank.

"Don't ever compare me to my father," he said quietly, his voice low and shaking. "He doesn't even amount to half of me, even if that doesn't amount to much."

"Draco, I--" But she was interrupted by a loud and furious tap on the window outside. Hermione immediately stood up, glad for an excuse to get away from Draco, and opened the window. A small tawny owl flew in, carrying a large envelope. It gracefully flew over and landed on one of her posts. She untied the letter from it's leg and opened it up quietly.

Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger,

I know I haven't been mailing you as often as I should have, (it's only been two days, Hermione thought) but I haven't had as much time on my hands as I thought. The ministry has been a little anxious to start doing something about Voldemort, but it would be a bit unwise to start taking drastic measures. We have begun to boost the school's defense system. Hogwarts are being charmed with anti-dark arts spells, so that an alarm will sound if anything related to the dark arts is used. This does mean canceling some of the more dangerous DADA lessons, but I doubt Mr. Malfoy will be grieved. As soon as you return, we will also begin tightening the patrol at night. This means that the prefects will have to take shifts in patrolling during the night. I know this is a lot to ask of you, especially at such a young age, but I would like you to head our Patrol Board. There will be meetings regularly, and you will be required to attend.

Things are very uneventful here, and the school is running smoothly. We await your return.

Albus Dumbledore

"Letter from Dumbledore," Hermione replied shortly, tossing the letter in Draco's direction. Hermione picked up the empty envelope and carried it with her to bed. She was about to throw it into the trash when another piece of parchment fell out. She picked it up.

Hermione,

I had to have Dumbledore send you this letter, because I sent it to your house the first time, but Hedwig came back with it. How have you been? Is your mum all right? Are you all right? You looked so worried when you left Hogwarts. Anyway, things are good here at Hogwarts. A rumour has been spreading, though, of Voldemort. They say he's going to attack the school. Pretty stupid right? Ron thinks it was a bunch of third year Slytherin girls looking to cook up some good gossip. Either that or Lavender and Parvati did it. Speaking of Ron, he's dating this Ravenclaw, who I personally think is all looks and no brains. But it's his decision. If he wants to make a prat f himself, he can go right ahead. I need something to laugh at anyway. Quidditch practices have started up. For some reason, they decided to start them early. That wouldn't be too bad, if it would just stop raining here. The lake has flooded to twice it's normal size, and the grounds are three inches deep in water. Not too bad you say? It is if you have to go clomping out there to get to Herbology.

Hermione, I really, really miss you. It's been so lonely without you! I know, it's only been two days, but it seems like forever. There's no Hermione to help me study, and she won't be here for a looonnnggg time. There's always Ron...but he's best if he's left alone. But anyway. I'll tell you what. When you get back, I'll throw a huge Gryffindor party for you. Yes, I know you hate parties, but it'll be fun. There's just one more thing. I haven't seen Malfoy anywhere. This is a good thing. But I can't help but wonder...anyway. Love ya Herm.

Love,

Harry

Hermione tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but she only succeeded in making a choking noise.

"Hermione?" Draco asked quietly. Hermione stuffed the letter under her pillow and stood up quickly.

"Yes?"

"Well...I'm...err, I'm...what I'm trying to say is..." Draco didn't get a chance to finish, because he immediately fell asleep.