The Makings of an Auror

The Makings of an Auror

Chapter 06

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Halloween passed, bringing them into the month of November. As the days crawled by, Hermione grew more and more excited about the upcoming graduation ceremony. When they only had two weeks left of training, she was practically dancing on the balls of her feet.

"Two more weeks!" she squealed, on a chilly November morning, when they had just arrived at the training area. "Two more weeks and we'll be certified, and we'll be back at Hogwarts. Doesn't it make you excited?"

"Of course it does," Draco replied half-heartedly. "But personally I've enjoyed time away from Hogwarts."

"To each his own," Hermione said cheerfully. "I can't wait till we get back."

"There's Voldemort to think about," Draco reminded her. "It's not going to be all fun and no work. We still have to head the school's defense board. Up until that letter we received a while back, I'd never even guessed we had a defense board."

"I'd never thought about it much either. I'm surprised it wasn't in Hogwarts: A History."

"Maybe they wanted to keep it quiet?" Draco offered.

Hermione frowned thoughtfully. "Perhaps, but I see no reason why they'd need to."

"Avoiding publicity is my guess. They don't want people thinking Hogwarts needs a defense system. Its odd Voldemort would attack the school anyway without some major reason. He'd have plenty of other opportunities in the future to kill Harry off anyway. Which would do us all a favor."

"On the bright side," Hermione interrupted, ignoring his last comment. "What do you plan to do first once we get back to the school? Going to visit your friends?"

"Friends? What friends?" Draco asked wryly. "Oh you mean Crabbe and Goyle."

"Of course I mean Crabbe and Goyle. It's a pity they failed, they could have left the school and did us all good."

"Crabbe and Goyle are pathetic. I think I'll go solo from now on, see how that works out," Draco replied.

"They will be heartbroken," Hermione said sympathetically. Draco scoffed.

"They won't miss me," he informed her, waving an arm for emphasis. "If they have any brains, they'd realize they don't need me as much to scare people off."

"That's harsh," said Hermione, a grin on her face. "It is true, but it is harsh."

They arrived at the Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Hermione hadn't seen much of Jonathan Lambert, aside from the lessons three times a week. When Draco and Hermione entered the classroom, they spotted Jonathan, flipping through some papers. They had arrived five minutes earlier than normal, and only two other students were in the class. When Draco cleared his throat, Jonathan looked up.

"Ahh Hermione, and Mr. Draco Malfoy. How are you doing?" Hermione glanced at him. Always a long sleeved shirt, she thought to herself, hiding a smile.

Despite herself, Hermione felt her face break into a grin. "We're doing just fine, although I notice we're getting double the amount of homework."

"Exams are coming up," Jonathan said, setting the papers on the far side of the desk and out of view. "We're preparing you." Draco rolled his eyes. He's speaking cookbook language.

"Draco makes fun of me for studying so much, but we'll see who has the last laugh when it comes to the exam results." Hermione glanced at Draco, who had an impatient look on his face and was nodding to himself.

"So how about lunch today? It's supposed to be something good," Jonathan asked, talking more to Hermione than to Draco.

"That sounds--."

"Great," Draco interrupted, and both Jonathan and Hermione turned to look at him with identical looks of surprise on their faces. "It sounds great, but we really need to prepare for the exams. All those questions--." He trailed off, staring at Hermione pointedly.

"Perhaps another time then," Jonathan said. Hermione was about to open her mouth to protest but Draco took her by the upper arm, gently enough so Lambert wouldn't be shocked, and steered her towards the back of the room, pushing her down into a chair in front of a desk.

"That was uncalled for," Hermione said in a disapproving tone. Draco ignored her.

"We should study. When I finally want to study, you want to go eat lunch with the Lambert git."

"Draco, that name really gets old after awhile," Hermione snapped.

"You want me to call him something else? Because there's plenty more where that came from."

"What's up with eating? You always go out to eat. It's like the social place here," Draco protested. "A walk in the park is nice. Swimming is good too. But it's always out to eat. He probably poisoned the food or something."

"Draco just...shut up," said Hermione in a frustrated voice. "You don't need to get hacked off over a lunch invitation." Draco didn't say anything, but was staring at the floor, his arms crossed defiantly.

The classroom filled with students, and Jonathan Lambert stood up at the front of the room.

"Hello all," he said warmly, smiling broadly at the class. "Nice to see all of you again. For today's lesson, I've brought in a little something special. First of all, let's start off with a little information. How many of you have heard of the Emerald Orb?"

Immediately, Hermione raised her hand, nearly taking Draco's nose off in the process. He cast her a disgruntled look.

"Excellent, I hoped most of you had heard of it. The Emerald Orb is an ancient object, used back in the times of Egyptian witches and wizards. I'm sure some of you have heard of it if you've ever taken Ancient Runes Studies. The Orb is used in most cases as a Sneakoscope, but it has a more advanced way of working. The Emerald Orb picks up Dark Magic, emotions, things that could warn a wizard of danger nearby. Emotion-wise, it recognizes feelings as anger, love, hatred, happiness, nervousness, and uneasiness. When someone is in love, nearby of course, it will turn pink. When it picks up anger, it glows red; with hatred, or dark magic, it turns green. I believe you get the basic idea.

"Now you may think that this isn't such a great object, but it has also been rumored that the Emerald Orb is a key. A key that can unlock a mystical item, greater than the Orb itself. The object has been said to be of use to Salazar Slytherin's descendants only. Why am I telling you this? It may be of future use to you, in case you are called upon to protect the Orb. But the chances of this happening are slim. Today, I have brought along a little something."

He walked to the other side of the room and picked up a small object. "This is an inactivated Orb." The class broke out into whispers. Hermione raised her hand.

"Inactivated? You need to use a spell to activate it then, right?" she asked. Jonathan smiled.

"Yes, you do. Normally I'd teach you the spell, but we wouldn't want this to be activated just yet. Once it is activated, it can only work for a short period of time, and once it wears out, it becomes dormant for a year. Normally it lasts for a month or two, which in a sense is a fairly good amount of time, but if you are on a schedule, it leaves you wary. Tonight for your homework," Jonathan began, and there was a rustling in the classroom. "You need to write a composition on the orb, and it's many features. No more than three hundred words, no less."

The class folded up their parchment and stuffed quills and inkbottles back inside their book bags. Draco stood up, book bag slung over his shoulder. Hermione, however, remained seated.

"Hermione?" he said. "Lambert left the room, you can close your mouth and stop drooling now." Draco's voice was dripping with scorn. But she blinked quickly a few times and looked up at him.

"What? Oh yes, class is finished isn't it." She absentmindedly grabbed her books and stuffed them into Draco's book bag instead of her own, and walked past him.

"Uh, Hermione...you forgot your book bag."

"Of course, of course," Hermione replied hurriedly, snapping back at him and grabbing her book bag. Draco watched her storm past him with a confused look on his face. He trailed after her.

"Is something the matter?" he asked, walking faster to match her pace.

"No, why do you ask?"

"For a moment back there you were all weird," Draco commented, and he realized she was walking to the library on the grounds.

"Acting weird?" she echoed dryly. "Why would I be acting weird? I feel perfectly fine." She opened the large brass doors to the library and stepped inside, with Draco following.

"You almost forgot your book bag, and you're not a very forgetful person," he said, sitting down at one of the tables, but Hermione kept standing.

"How would you know, you haven't known me that long." She turned on her heels and began to walk down one of the aisles, but Draco bolted up from his chair and grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around.

"You don't act like this Hermione, and I've known you long enough to realize when something's up," he said, half-yelling, half-shaking her to death. Her eyes went unfocused for a minute. She was looking up into his face, but it seemed she was staring at the back of his skull, rather than his eyes.

"You're right. I don't know why I'm acting this way, because I don't feel any differently." She suddenly felt very tired. "I guess it's just stress, or lack of sleep."

"Well if that's the case then slow down," said Draco, his hands still resting on her shoulders. Hermione bit her lip.

"Yet I feel it's something else," she continued, backing out of his grasp and leaning against one of the bookshelves. "It's almost like I'm dreading something, but I don't know what. I feel it." Draco looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. She didn't look as perky as she had when they had left Hogwarts a month and a half ago. Her eyes were empty of emotion and there were dark blue circles beneath her eyes. Her whole demeanor had a sagging appearance, and she put a hand to her forehead wearily. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," said Draco, "and no."

"It is hard to explain," Hermione began, turning around and examining the bookshelves. "But I know it's there." Draco was very quiet for a minute, and he chewed the tip of his tongue in thought. Hermione pulled out two large books and walked past him, setting them down on the table next to Draco's book bags.

"Did you notice Lambert?" Draco asked, sitting down next to her. "He seemed to be rubbing his arm a lot."

"Well he's always wearing a sweatshirt. Maybe he's anemic," Hermione offered.

"Yeah, maybe."

"Now be quiet and read this," Hermione said, shoving an open book in his direction. Draco pulled it closer and began to read.

The Emerald Orb is a legendary item, and is rarely found outside a museum ('How'd Lambert get one?' Draco had asked, but Hermione put a finger to her lips). There are currently seven Emerald Orbs in existence. Three are held in museums located in Britain, one in North America, and the other three belong to the Department of Legendary Objects. The creator of the Orb is unknown, but it is rumored that Salazar Slytherin created it. The Orb picks up emotions, and can be used to detect Dark Magic. The Orb also works as a key, which unlocks a greater object more powerful than the Orb, and it may possibly be deadly, if Slytherin crafted it.

"It may be deadly, if Slytherin crafted it?" Draco repeated, in disbelief. "That's insulting."

"Why?" Hermione asked. Draco made a noise of impatience and pointed to himself. "Me. In Slytherin. Practically a direct descendant of Salazar himself. If they're saying he's nutters, then that means they're insulting me too."

"You...you're a descendant of Slytherin?" Hermione asked quietly, almost choking on her own words. Draco looked at her curiously.

"Yeah, why?" His eyes widened. "Look, if you think I'm going to kill Potter or something, let me assure you--."

"No, it's not about Harry," Hermione said, turning slightly red. "It's just...nothing. I just never knew." Draco had a suspicious look on his face, but he turned back to his book anyway. Hermione felt sick to her stomach. It can't be, she kept repeating to herself. He can't be the heir of Slytherin, he just can't be. A descendant, possibly, but not the heir. And you will NOT fall in love with Draco Malfoy. Nope, sorry.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Draco asked. "Your eyes are bugging out, and you look like somebody told you the exams were cancelled." Hermione didn't smile, or even acknowledge she heard this. She just turned the leaf of her book, staring not at its pages but at the table. "That's nice," she said quietly.

"Did I mention that I have a spaceship and it can fly all the way to Neptune?" Draco asked.

"Oh, that's great."

"And that my mother's a werewolf?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Hermione!" Draco shouted. Her head snapped up, her dark brown eyes meeting Draco's cool gray ones. "You're not listening to a thing I'm saying."

"I'm sorry," she said, averting her gaze. He was giving her a penetrating look, as if he was opening her mind and reading her thoughts as easily as a book. Draco didn't reply to this, he just shook his head sadly and went back to reading his book.

"Draco--," Hermione began, surprising herself and him that she was speaking. "I...I've been meaning to tell you something." Draco set his quill down and nodded, a sign for her to speak. "You know when Mrs. Burton--." But she didn't have a chance to continue, as the doors to the library opened, and a group of chattering students came in.

"This just isn't my day," Hermione grumbled, sinking down into her chair and putting her face in her hands. "First Lambert, now a noisy library."

"Lambert? What's Lambert got to do with this?"

"Oh, well," Hermione said, looking sheepish. "He's what got us fighting earlier."

"Actually, it was your melancholy mood that did it really."

"Was it?"

"Yes."

"Ahh." She tucked her parchment inside her book carefully and closed it. "We'd better check these out, we can use them back at the hotel, or suites, whatever you want to call it." Draco closed his own book and followed her to the checkout desk.

***

The next two weeks passed, slowly but surely. Draco and Hermione passed the final exams with flying colors. A week later, they were packing, preparing for the trip home to Hogwarts. They had just graduated. It was a brilliant ceremony, with charmed lights, real fairies, and wreaths that sang merrily when you walked by. Hermione and Draco were both given an honorary medal, for completing the training camp alone. When they got back to the hotel, however, somebody was sitting on the bed. It was Lambert.

"I let myself in," he said hurriedly, seeing the shocked looks on their faces. "I couldn't wait to give you a graduation present."

"Are you talking to me, or Hermione?" Draco asked bitterly.

"I'm talking about both of you," Jonathan said, a surprised look on his face, due to Draco's acrimony. "I wanted to give you this." He reached his hand behind his back and pulled something around for them to see.

"The Emerald Orb?" Hermione said breathlessly.

"Yes. I heard about your unpleasant Voldemort business, and thought that maybe this would help. I'd like you to have it."

"Jonathan--."

"Wait a minute," Draco said. "How'd you get one of these anyway? There are only seven in existence; three are in Britain, one is in North America, and the other three belong to the Ministry..."

"I asked the ministry if I could give it to you, and they consented," Jonathan said, pulling out a piece of parchment and handing it to Draco.

Mr. Jonathan Lambert,

By this letter, we give you official permission to give one Emerald Orb to two of the Hogwarts students for safekeeping, and help against tracking Voldemort. If any further questions are necessary, owl us back anytime for immediate assistance.

Sincerely,

Bathilda Haggerty

"I don't know," Draco said slowly, handing Hermione the letter, and she took it, scanning the letter eagerly. "Sounds fishy to me."

"Come on Draco, you're always telling me to lighten up. It's a wonderful gift Jonathan, thank you."

"No problem at all," Jonathan said. He checked his pocketwatch. "Look at the time! I gotta run. Maybe I'll see you again someday."

"Maybe you will," said Hermione, a small smile on her face. Jonathan stood up and walked over to Hermione, and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Then he turned to Draco and extended a hand.

"Aww, I don't get a kiss too?" Draco asked, and Lambert looked at him in horror. "God Lambert, it's a joke." He reluctantly took Jonathan's hand and let go immediately. With a small wave, Jonathan had left the hotel. Hermione stared at the door for a long time, a silly grin on her face. Draco was scowling.

"He kissed you," Draco pointed out.

"It was just a goodbye kiss," Hermione said, yet she was grinning and blushing profusely. Draco looked very unhappy.

"Oh, I bought something," he said, and he disappeared into the closet. When he came out, he was carrying a bottle of red wine and two wine glasses. Hermione scowled as he set them down.

"You're underage, she told him sternly. And so am I."

"I turn eighteen in a week, so it's not that bad," he pointed out. "As for you," he added hastily. "We can bend the rules just this once." He propped up the glass in front of her and poured a generous amount of wine in her glass. She took it and drained it without question, Draco gawking at her. She spluttered a few seconds later, coughing and wheezing.

"It happens to everyone at least once in their life," he informed her, thumping her on the back as she choked. She weakly held up her glass, and he skeptically poured more wine for her. "Easy Granger!" Hermione had just nearly drunk the whole glass again.

"More," she said stubbornly. Draco shook his head.

"Two is plenty, we don't need you drunk," Draco protested, but Hermione grabbed the wine bottle for herself and drank out of the bottle. Draco cried out.

"Stop, stop, stop," he said hurriedly, yanking it out of her grasp. "Bad Granger. Bad, bad, bad Granger."

"That tastes good," she said, a stupid grin on her face. She was beginning to feel lightheaded. Draco placed the wine bottle a good deal away from her.

"I had a question for you," he said. Hermione looked at him. "When we get back to Hogwarts, would you--well, like to go to...I dunno, Hogsmeade or something?"

"Sure, why not?" Hermione said. She began to feel dizzy.

"I mean, like, a date," Draco said, and he wished he immediately could take it back. Hermione nearly dropped her wine glass.

"A date? You mean...a date?"

"I don't mean the fruit Hermione," he said. "Of course I mean a date."

"Oh...yeah, sure."

"What?" Draco asked, nearly falling off the bed. "You want to?"

"Yes! I do, I actually do," she said. Draco looked so happy for a moment, she was sure he'd burst. But what happened next was so unexpected, so ludicrous. Draco leaned forward and kissed her soundly on the mouth. Hermione really dropped the wine glass this time. She heard it hit the ground, and her ankle went wet. But she didn't care. She felt herself clutch at his shirt collar, desperate to bring him closer, but that was impossible, as she was as close to him as she could ever be. Never in her life had she experienced such a feeling. She felt like she was falling and flying at the same time, her ears pounding, her heart soaring.

When Draco pulled back, Hermione heard herself make a noise of protest. But he had only leaned back to get a breath of air, and then he had covered her mouth with his again. She felt his heart beat wildly against his chest, pounding against hers. Kissing Draco was completely different from kissing Harry. Harry was gentle, and always careful. But Draco was kissing her more passionately than she had ever thought possible. There was emotion penned up behind his kiss, as if a dam had burst, and everything he felt was flooding out into her. But just as she was getting caught in the moment, a deep pang of guilt shattered her heart. Draco. Kissing Draco. Harry. Before she could stop herself, she pushed him away fiercely, causing him to stumble backwards and land on his own bed. She was shaking, not with fear, but with rage. How dare he kiss her? How dare he? Shut up, said a voice in the back of her head. You liked it, and you know it.

"Hermione--."

"No," she heard herself say. "Just don't say anything." Draco went quiet, a confused and hurt look on his face. Then he stood up and brought out his wand. For a split second, she thought he was going to hex her into pieces, but he merely pointed it at the carpet and muttered something. She felt her ankle go dry, and she looked down. The red wine was disappearing from the carpet and her shoe. Then he turned around, so his back was to her, and picked up his luggage. He walked over to the front door, and without a backward glance, he opened the door, walked out of it, and closed it behind him.

***

"'allo there! Good to see ya again," said the familiar voice of Stan Shunpike. The Knight Bus had arrived for Draco and Hermione, and when Hermione saw it, she had to restrain herself from jumping with joy. She had done it. She was a fully trained Auror.

"Put yer bags over there," Stan said, when he had seen Hermione. "You know the routine." Hermione carried her bags over to the small compartment beneath the bus and stuffed them in there. Draco's luggage had already been loaded. Then she stepped onto the bus, taking careful note of Stan's driver Ernie and how close his foot was to the accelerator. She didn't want to go flying into anybody's arms again. Once the bus had started (with Hermione holding on to a bedpost), she wandered up to the upper flight. Draco was sitting on the bed farthest away from the stairs, and he was tracing his hand with his finger. When Hermione entered, he didn't look up. She slowly walked over to a bed opposite him and sat down. As she got closer, Hermione realized he was tracing a scar on the back of his hand. Hermione recalled the many times she'd seen these scars, but she had never asked how he had got them in the first place.

"Hey," she said, in a small voice. Draco still didn't look up. "Umm...what are you doing?" Hermione asked, a feeling of foreboding settling down upon her.

"What's it look like I'm doing?" he replied sardonically. Hermione was taken aback.

"Erm...you look like you're...ahh, thinking, or something," Hermione said carefully.

"Yes, and it's awfully hard to think with a chatterbox right in front of you," Draco said, and he looked up at her this time. His eyes were, as usual, completely unreadable, but his face was etched with an emotion that Hermione hadn't seen too often before. Something between a mixture of sadness and regret.

"I--I'm sorry!" she cried out. "Look, if this is about that...that kiss," she said, saying the word with tremendous difficulty. Draco stared at her for a minute before looking down at his hands, "then just put it behind us."

"Put it behind us," Draco said carefully. "That would be including the trip to Hogsmeade too, right?"

"What trip to Hogsmeade?" Hermione asked, startled. Draco's face went pale.

"I asked you, right before I kissed you, if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade some time, and you consented."

"Did I?" said Hermione, turning equally pale now.

"Well, yeah, you did."

"I wouldn't mind going to Hogsmeade with you Draco--," she began, but he waved a hand impatiently and dismissed this statement.

"I asked you out on a date, in other words."

"Oh..."

"And you said yes," Draco repeated. Hermione bit her lip.

"Draco...I was drunk, and well, there's Harry--."

"Everything is about Potter, isn't it," Draco said harshly, although quietly. "Of course you have Potter."

"But you don't understand," Hermione pleaded. "You don't understand how much I--."

"How much you love Harry right?"

"No, how much I like you." She said these last words with finality, and Draco's face went blank. He didn't look up, and he didn't reply, he just sat there, staring at his hands as if they were the Quidditch World Cup. "I would love going to Hogsmeade with you Draco. But just not on a date. It just...wouldn't work out yet. This is so stupid. Look at us." Draco looked up somewhat childishly, his head still bent downward so he had to peek up at her through his eyelashes. "Look at us fighting like this. Why can't we just let it go? We'll have a great time at Hogwarts. I'll come to your Quidditch practices, we'll study together, and we'll even eat lunch together." Draco looked up completely at her.

"You...you mean it?"

"Yes, I mean it."

"What about Potter and Weasel?" Draco asked. "Won't they hate you?"

"If they still want to be my friend, they'll have to put up with me liking you. And talking to you that is."

"If you say so," Draco said, although she saw something that looked like a smile flicker across his face. "And Hermione--."

"Yes?"

"I'm really sorry about...about the kiss."

"Kiss? What kiss?" Hermione asked. Draco looked at her blankly. Then, surprisingly, she burst out laughing. "It was a joke Draco, I swear. Your face...oh your face was hilarious."

"I can never be serious with you!" he cried out, although he too was grinning now.

"Hey, I'm not the Sarcastic Guy here," Hermione responded. "I'm always trying to get you to be serious."

"Well I'm sarcastic at all the right times. You ruined a perfectly good apology."

"I did not!" she responded.

"Yes, you did."

"Did not."

"Did too!"

"Did not."

"Did too!"

"Did--."

"We're here!" someone yelled from downstairs. Hermione closed her mouth abruptly and stood up, holding out her hand.

"So we're friends?" she asked. Draco stared at her hand intently before taking it in his. It was the first time she had ever shook his hand before, without the gloves. His hand was cold, hers warm, and when he touched her, she felt herself mentally shiver. But before she could say anything, he had dropped his hand and was walking down the steps on the Knight Bus. Hermione followed, but Draco looked out the window and paused.

"Uhh, Hermione, you go first, I left something upstairs," he said, and he took off to the upper flight. Hermione stepped off of the Knight Bus, and--

"Hermione?"

She spun wildly around and came face to face with a muddy Harry.

"Harry..." she whispered, and before she could stop herself, she had thrown her arms around his neck. He stumbled backwards.

"Hermione!" he repeated blankly, awkwardly patting her on the back, mud getting in her hair. She only clung onto him tighter, and he had to pry her off of him.

"Harry, you're all...muddy," she giggled.

"You are too now," Harry said. "I was doing Quidditch practice, and I saw the Knight Bus fly in, so I came over here."

"Where's--."

"Hermione!" someone else shouted. Ron was running in their direction, holding the Quaffle in one hand, his broom in the other. When he reached her however, both objects fell to the floor, and he hugged her.

"Hey Ron!" she said happily. Ron pulled away from her, standing next to Harry. "It is so good to see you guys."

"We've missed you so much--MALFOY?" Ron shrieked. Hermione felt suddenly sick. She turned around and saw Draco stepping off of the Knight Bus, holding his luggage, and hers. She slowly waved to him, so only he could see, and he nodded in her direction, holding up her luggage and pointing to the Entrance Hall. She nodded back at him.

"Why is Malfoy with you?" Harry asked.

"Oh...that. You see, I was on the Knight Bus, going back to Hogwarts, and then the Bus stopped, and Draco got on," she explained.

"You just called him Draco. And he's stealing your luggage," Harry said, in an empty voice.

"He's not stealing it Harry," she said, somewhat impatiently. "He's just putting it in the Entrance Hall for me."

"Malfoy is putting your luggage in the ENTRANCE HALL?" Ron shrieked again, and both Harry and Hermione glared at him. "What?"

"Stop yelling Ron. And yes, he's putting my luggage in the Entrance Hall."

"Look, let's just calm down," Harry said, talking more to Ron, than to Hermione. Ron's ears looked like they were about to steam, which would have given his head the appearance as if it were on fire. "Let's just go up to the Gryffindor dormitories and let Hermione get settled in."

Hermione gave Harry a 'thank-you' look and walked up to the Entrance Hall, Harry and Ron trailing behind her. She could hear Ron whispering furiously at Harry, and then Harry's reply back. When she reached the Entrance Hall, she spotted her luggage behind a plant. Once she had retrieved it, got it safely up into her dormitory (the password to the common room was wobbleforth) and changed into some comfortable clothes, she collapsed onto an armchair. Harry and Ron were already there, waiting for her.

"How's your mum?" Harry asked.

"My mum?"

"Uhh, yeah. You know, tall, muggle woman, brown hair, dentist."

"Oh yes. She's doing just fine. It was a long recovery, but she pulled through."

"What did she have?"

"Uhh, cardiometriosis ," Hermione lied. "It's a rare disease."

"Cardiometriosis? Never heard of it," Ron said thoughtfully. "About Malfoy--."

"Ron. Shut. Up. About. Malfoy."

"Oh. Right. Of course," Ron said.

"Well it's nearly lunchtime, and I'm starving, so why don't we head down to the Great Hall?" Harry asked, standing up, with Ron and Hermione following suit.

"Sounds good to me," Hermione said.

They walked down to the Great Hall, sitting down at their usual spot at Gryffindor. Hermione bit her lip and looked in the direction of the Slytherin table. Draco was sitting there, watching her intently. Apparently, Pansy Parkinson was chattering animatedly next to him, and he wasn't listening to a word of it. She waved to him, and Draco waved back. Harry saw this. He set down his fork with a clatter.

"All right Hermione, would you please tell us the truth?" Harry asked.

"What?"

"What the hell is going on between you and Draco Malfoy?"

"Malfoy?" said Hermione. "Nothing is going on between us." Harry was giving her a calculating look, and she wondered if one could buy a lock for their brain. Hers seemed to be searched a lot. "Look," she said, leaning closer to him. "I'll tell you in the common room," she said warily, trying to block Ron out of the conversation. "Alone." Harry's eyes went wide, and he cast Ron a glance. But he was engrossed in speaking to a very beautiful Ravenclaw. Now it was Hermione's turned to go bug-eyed.

"Is that the girl you wrote to me about?" she asked. Harry nodded, a pained look on his face.

"She and Ron have been together ever since you left. Which is a pity too, because I've seen her snog other guys when Ron's not around. Now I tried pointing it out to him, but he didn't believe me."

"Typical Ron," Hermione said, shaking her head sadly. "She is pretty though."

"But she couldn't use her brain if her life depended on it."

"Ahh, the good-looks-no-brains type of girl. Why does Ron get caught up with these girls? First Fleur, now her." Harry shrugged his shoulders and took a bite of his sandwich. Once the Ravenclaw girl walked away, he sat down, a little pink around the ears.

"Well Ron, where are you snogging tonight? A broom closet? The Astronomy Tower?"

"Shut up Harry," Ron snapped. "Who said anything about snogging?"

"Nobody. But you always have that guilty look whenever you get back to the common room late," Harry said. "Face it Ron. You're as transparent as glass." As if right on cue, Ron's face contorted in fury.

"It is not!" he responded haughtily.

"What's her name?" Hermione asked, trying to sound interested.

"Rowena," Ron responded, going even pinker.

"Rowena? And she's in Ravenclaw? That's interesting," Hermione said. "She could be the next heir." Ron made a noise of impatience.

"She's muggle born," he pointed out.

"So?" Hermione snapped, rather harder than she had intended to. Ron gave her a confused look.

"Well, I just thought you had to be...well, pureblood or something."

"Maybe you do, but it doesn't do good to judge people by their family history. It's unfair," she said. Ron rolled his eyes.

"You're treating me as if I were Malfoy," Ron said, and Hermione nearly dropped her goblet at the mention of Draco's name. "Only now you're nice to him."

"I never said I was nice to him," Hermione responded. "So I waved, big deal."

"Waving is a form of salutation," Harry said. "Normally you wave to a friend."

"Oh please, can we stop talking about Malfoy?" Hermione said. "Honestly, you're acting as if I told you I was transferring to Slytherin."

"Why Slytherin? Because Malfoy's in it?"

"No, because you two would freak out if I went more than you would if I transferred to Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff," Hermione responded cynically.

"All right. No more talk about Malfoy."

Hermione looked back at the Slytherin table, expecting to see Draco there, but she didn't. All she saw was a sulking Pansy.

"Where'd he go?" she said, more to herself than to Ron or Harry. They both looked up.

"Who?"

"Nobody, I just thought I saw someone that looked like...Krum, or something." Harry's eyebrows shut up so high they disappeared behind his bangs.

"Krum? I wanna see," he said, turning around and looking at the Great Hall. Hermione put a hand to her forehead wearily.

"You know what, I think I'm going to go up to the common room and rest for a bit," said Hermione. Harry whipped around.

"Are you feeling okay? Do you need help getting up there?" he asked hurriedly. Hermione almost smiled.

"No, it's quite all right. I'll see you guys later," she said, and with a small wave, she left the Great Hall. The corridors were empty, except for a few prefects talking in a corner, looking down at a first year, who had hexed his legs off by accident, and they were running away down the hall. Hermione turned and found herself in front of the portrait.

"Wobbleforth," she said, and the portrait swung forward. She stepped inside, was about to flop down onto an armchair, when she gasped. Draco Malfoy was sitting in an armchair, facing her, an amused expression on his face. "Draco," she said weakly. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Being Head Boy has it's advantages," Draco said. "I came here to ask you something."

"Ask away," Hermione said, flopping down into an armchair across from him. He looked cool and composed, but his eyes showed something else: nervousness.

"I was wondering, if you'd accompany me to the Yule Ball." There, he thought. I said it. No point beating around the bush.

"Yule Ball?" Hermione nearly shrieked. "We're not having a Yule Ball." Draco grinned slyly and held up a pamphlet. Hermione read the bold, flashing letters.

"Draco," she said sternly. "Those weren't to be handed out a week from now," she pointed out, glancing at the date in the top corner.

"The Yule Ball is being held on my birthday," Draco offered. "On the twenty-third. Now will you please answer my question?"

"Well I--." But she didn't have a chance to finish, as the portrait door swung open. Without thinking, she grabbed Draco by the arm and pushed him behind a tapestry. Then she hurriedly ran over and sat in an armchair. It was Harry.

"Hey," he said.

"Hello," Hermione said, and she must have looked nervous, because concern fleeted across Harry's face.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked, sitting down next to her. "You seem skittish, and nervous."

"I'm perfectly fine, though I'm touched at your concern." She could see him grinding his teeth.

"I'm glad you're back," he said finally, and he put an arm around her shoulders, and she rested her head on his chest. "You don't know how depressed I've been since you left."

"Well I'm happy to be back too," Hermione responded. Harry looked down at her and kissed her on the top of her head. Hermione smiled softly, gazing up at his face. She thought she heard a noise of impatience coming from the tapestry, but she ignored it. At that very moment, Harry leaned forward and kissed her. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck immediately. She had been longing for this for the past two months, for the touch of his skin, for his voice, for his kisses. He kissed her with gentleness, almost shyness, and it was nothing compared to the overwhelmingly passionate kiss she had shared with Draco earlier that day. Harry seemed to notice her thoughts were somewhere else, because he pulled apart from her.

"Something wrong?" he asked, a confused look on his face. Hermione felt horribly guilty and shrugged.

"It's nothing, nothing at all."

"You look tired," he said softly, trailing a finger down the side of her face and down her neck to her shoulder. Hermione shivered.

"Do I look that bad?" she giggled. "You keep asking me if I'm all right."

"You look different," Harry said truthfully.

"How so?" Hermione asked. The tapestry on the far wall was moving, and she shifted uncomfortably.

"Maybe it's not looks," said Harry. "You seem smarter, more experienced."

"I--well, that's half of what I wanted to tell you about, but we can't tall just yet," Hermione said. Harry scowled. "And don't make that face Harry, you know it doesn't work on me..."

"That's what you think," Harry grinned. "I've been practicing." (Hermione would never admit how cute he looked when he did that)

"I'm going to go upstairs for a bit," she said loudly, so that Draco could hear. "Get back settled in and stuff."

"Okay, but if you need any help, just ask me," Harry said, his eyes following her movements as she stood up. Hermione trudged up the stairs and entered the girl's dorms. Once she was inside, she let out a sigh of relief and hurried over to the far wall, her hands running along the bricks, until she found what she was looking for. It was a small hole in one of the bricks. She poked her wand inside and muttered, 'Revaleous'. A small door appeared, and Hermione opened it. She had used this door many times to sneak out of the girl's dormitories, particularly when she didn't want to be seen. It allowed her to avoid the stairs--which came in handy, as they were horribly creaky--and to skip the common room. The door opened up just behind the tapestry she had hid Draco in. Hermione entered the tunnel, crouched down low, water dripping off the ceiling. She saw a faint light near the end, and she reached the familiar wooden door. She knocked softly on it, and a shadow broke the light in-between the cracks. Draco had opened the door, and he had a scowl on his face.

"Hey," she said quietly, and she tugged on his shirt collar to pull him inside the dim passageway, shutting the door behind her and turning to face him, the light from the outside illuminating the outline of his face.

"Never again leave me behind a tapestry to watch you and Potter snog," Draco said with finality. Hermione's mouth opened furiously and she glared at him. Draco had something that looked like humor on his face.

"We-did not-snog," said Hermione furiously. "Kiss. It was a kiss."

"Whatever you say," Draco said, in an unconvincing tone. Hermione closed her mouth and turned on her heel, walking down the winding passageway. Draco followed. "And you can't tell Potter about the Training, remember?"

"I--I know that," Hermione said hesitantly. "I was going to ask Dumbledore first, if I could."

"Oh yeah, sure. The man already told you to keep it secret. If word gets out you're an Auror and you're Harry Potter's best friend, then Potter might be in further danger." Draco stopped, a considering expression on his face. "Not that I care or anything." Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "I mean, I wouldn't kill him, but...maybe I would, but no, I'm not a murderer--." Hermione looked amused. "Of course I wouldn't kill him, I mean...ARH! Forget it."

"Indeed. Now let's go before somebody hears you." She opened the door to the girl's dormitory hallway, and stepped inside quietly. Draco followed, somewhat carelessly. "Now we have to get you--."

"HERMIONE?"

Hermione spun around, a feeling of foreboding in the pit of her stomach. Ginny was standing in the hallway, her expression livid, her hair giving her the impression that her head was on fire. "Ginny, I can explain--."

"What the hell is Malfoy doing in the girl's dormitories?" Ginny snapped, suddenly becoming aware that she was wearing her pajamas, and she folded her arms with a scowl. Draco was trying very, very hard not to laugh.

"He was just...well, you see--"

"Never you mind that, just get him out of here!" Ginny exclaimed.

"I was helping Hermione here with the inspections," Draco said quickly, although he was composed. "We just finished Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw."

"Inspections?" asked Ginny. "They've never done inspections before." She eyed the two of them with suspicion. "If I were to ask Padma, in Ravenclaw, would she say you were there?"

"Ginny, you're being too inquisitive. Calm down, we'll be out of here in just a few minutes. Come on, er, Draco and let's finish checking the dormitories," said Hermione, nudging Draco in the back. He gave her a disgruntled look and walked down the hall, opening each dorm room door and looking around. Once he had finished checking each door (and after escaping a rabid group of third years), he walked back to Hermione.

"The sixth year dorm was dissatisfying," Draco said, playing along just a little too much, yet he grinned at the peeved expression on Ginny's face. "I suggest you clean up a little better in there."

"Fine. You've done your job, now would you kindly send him out?" Ginny pleaded, edging along the wall.

"Yes, yes. Go on Draco." He began to walk, but Hermione grabbed his arm. "And don't cause any disruptions with Harry," she added as an afterthought. "Oh...and Malfoy I can't."

"Can't what?" Draco asked.

"I can't go with you to the Yule Ball."

Draco stood quite still, his eyes clear, his expression unreadable. "Okay," Draco said, and she thought she heard his voice crack. "I'll see you later then." And he walked out the door.

"The malcontent prat," Ginny muttered, under her breath. Hermione gave her a look of shock.

"What was that all about Ginny? Really, you were rather harsh on him. He was just helping me with a project." Hermione had her hands on her hips, and Ginny went slightly flushed.

"Well I--he was in the girl's dorms, and I panicked!" Ginny replied, unfolding her arms and indicating the doors to her right. "What if he saw...something?" Hermione's eyes went wide, and Ginny put a hand to her forehead. "I don't know, it would have been nicer if you would have given us a warning."

"It was rather unexpected, really," Hermione explained. "Dumbledore--oh God, Dumbledore!" Hermione said suddenly. "He doesn't know we're back. Sorry Gin, but I have to run. I'll be back later though, and we'll talk then." And without a backward glance, she exited the room quickly. When she got downstairs to the common room, she breathed a sigh of relief. Harry had fallen asleep, thus meaning he probably hadn't seen Draco leave the Gryffindor common room. Hermione tiptoed over to the portrait hole and was about to open it, but she heard someone speak.

"I saw Malfoy leave." It was Harry speaking. She turned around. He had his arm over his face, so he couldn't see her. Maybe he sensed her presence. Hermione walked over to the armchair and sat down.

"You did?"

"Yeah." He sat up now, indicating the spot where his head had been laying, and she got up and sat down over there, and he laid his head in her lap. "Would you please tell me what's going on? I'm so confused."

Hermione bit her lip reluctantly, stroking his hair absentmindedly. "Well...promise not to tell Ron?" Harry moved his arm away from his face, and she saw a shocked yet determined expression on his face.

"Sure."

"You know how I went to visit my mum?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded. "I didn't actually go see her. In fact, nothing was wrong with her, nothing at all." Harry's face was void of any emotion. "In fact, I went in nearly the opposite direction. I...I went to an Auror Training Camp." Harry lifted his arms up and grabbed her hand, which had been winding strands of his hair around her finger.

"You mean to tell me," he said, looking up into her face, "that this whole time, you've been becoming an Auror?"

"Actually, that's exactly what I'm telling you. I'm really sorry I didn't tell you sooner, it's just--." She trailed off, Harry still holding her hand. Harry looked at her expectantly, and she continued. "Dumbledore told us not to tell anybody, and I figured that if I did tell you, you wouldn't let me go."

"Hermione, you don't know that," Harry said, his emerald green eyes sparkling behind his glasses. "Well--maybe you do," he said, grinning. "So I would have been a little hesitant, but it would have ultimately been your decision in the first place."

"There's one other little detail I forgot to mention," said Hermione slowly. "Malfoy went too." This statement instantly brought Harry to attention. He sat up abruptly.

"He what?"

"Now don't get mad, we didn't really do anything," Hermione explained hurriedly. "It was mostly work and no play."

"Were you in separate rooms?" Harry asked. Hermione bit her lip.

"Ahh, well, Dumbledore set the hotel reservation up for us, so we couldn't exactly do anything about it--."

"You didn't," Harry said with finality. "I know you, and you wouldn't have stood for that."

"He's not such a bad guy Harry," Hermione scowled. "I know you two are archenemies, but have you ever talked to him any?"

"Oh yeah, if sod off counts," retorted Harry.

"It doesn't," Hermione snapped, surprised at her own brutality. "You don't know him at all, and you don't want to make an effort to try. He doesn't want to talk to you just as much as you don't want to talk to him. But you two will never grow up if you don't put an end to this silly squabbling."

"I won't do it," Harry said stubbornly, his jaw set. "If he wants to be buddy-buddy with me, like he is with you, then he'll have to make the first move. I've already tried talking to him Hermione, he's just too obstinate to realize it."

"Oh Harry," Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples. "Both of you are alike in strange ways." Harry made a face.

"Me and Malfoy? Alike?"

"You're both stubborn," Hermione offered. "And you're both incredibly stupid."

"Stupid? I'm offended Hermione," Harry teased. She playfully slapped his arm.

"All I'm trying to say is that I believe you two could get along, if you could just sit down and have a talk." She sighed again, and Harry's heart pained for her. Hermione stood up, smoothing her jeans out. "I need to talk to Dumbledore, so I'll see you later."

***

"Professor Dumbledore? Are you in here?"

Hermione had arrived at the door to Dumbledore's office, and she was tapping lightly on it. She was about to turn around and leave, when the door opened.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said warmly, his blue eyes twinkling. "Good of you to drop by. Come in, come in." He held the door open for her, and she stepped in to the beautiful circular room. Hermione took a seat in front of Dumbledore's desk. He sat down behind the desk, his hands folded. "How was it?"

"It was, er, fascinating," Hermione said. "Draco Malfoy and I passed."

"That's very good to hear," Dumbledore commented. "What have you learned from it?"

"Never keep your back to an entire room?" Hermione offered, grinning weakly. "Professor, you were once an Auror weren't you?"

"I was for only a short period of time, until I decided to become a professor," said Dumbledore. "I taught for nearly sixty years."

"I just came by to tell you that Draco and I were back," Hermione said. "Just in case--."

"Oh I already knew you were back," Dumbledore said, and Hermione started in surprise. "One of my many secrets. Now run along and get settled back into Hogwarts. Oh and one more thing."

"Sure."

"Tomorrow, bring Mr. Malfoy and yourself here, so we can discuss the board of defense," Dumbledore reminded her gently. "We have quite a bit of work to do."

"All right Professor," Hermione said, and she stood up and left.

***

"You there, five points from Hufflepuff," Draco said, a huge grin on his face. He was striding down the corridors, feeling better than he had been feeling in days, maybe even weeks. The Hufflepuff cast him a dirty look and promptly stopped hexing his friend into pieces. Draco turned a corner--and walked right into Ron.

"Ow!" they said in unison, as they collided, Ron looking horrified and Draco looking amused.

"Watch it Weasel," Draco retorted, although he was smiling. Ron glared.

"Shut up Malfoy. Have you seen Hermione or Harry anywhere?"

"I think they're up snogging in the dormitories," Draco responded, and Ron looked even more furious. "It's best not to interrupt them."

"They are not!" Ron responded. After a few seconds, however, he added, "Are they really?"

"Oh please Weasley, just when I thought you couldn't get any more thick. Of course they're not snogging, do you really think Potter and Hermione would do that, especially with you around?"

"Geez Malfoy, I'm just asking," said Ron, and he pushed past Draco and took off down the corridors.

"Oh and Weasley!" Draco called after him, and Ron briefly paused. "Tell your sister for me that those pajamas were very, very revealing, ok?" Ron spun around, apoplectic rage all across his face, but Draco had already turned and disappeared.

***

Hermione was utterly and explicably happy to be back to Hogwarts. She and Draco resumed their positions of Head Girl and Boy, and took up the lead on the school's defense board. Every week, they had a meeting, which discussed the school's current state of working. They were also talking about tightening the security, which didn't get them very far, as the Aurors were somewhat reluctant.

"I can't believe that they think this whole Voldemort thing is a hoax," Hermione was telling Draco, one wintry afternoon. "They're just too arrogant to be troubled by a little...little school!"

"Hermione calm down," Draco said calmly. "Just let them warm up to the idea. Besides, this is not a little school, it's huge."

"Be quiet," she responded sardonically. "By the way. When is Dumbledore making the announcement about the Yule Ball?" It pained her to talk about it in front of him, but he showed no change of expression.

"Tonight after dinner. I asked him earlier after the meeting."

"Draco--I."

"No, Hermione. Just...no."

"But you know that--."

"I said," Draco began, through gritted teeth, "no. Just let it alone." Hermione bit her lip, her eyes full of sadness.

"Okay Draco." It was probably fortunate that they decided to drop it, because at that moment, Hermione spotted Harry running up to them.

"Hermione," Harry breathed, doubled over and clutching his side. "Malfoy," he nodded shortly, in Draco's direction, and Draco nodded back. Boys. "Come here, I need to show you something."

"Can it wait? We were just discussing--."

"No--can't wait--need to come--now," said Harry, sucking in great gasps of air. Casting Draco a confused glance, she followed Harry down the corridors. Harry finally stopped in a more deserted one, and he glanced around quickly before plunging his hand inside his robe pockets and bringing out a copy of the Daily Prophet. "Here, read this."

Hermione took the Daily Prophet and read:

DEVESTATION IN DIAGON ALLEY

Just yesterday, on December the fifteenth, a devastating action took place in Diagon Alley. A cloaked group, that appeared to be a group of Death Eaters (top right picture), wandered into Diagon Alley. At first, it seemed like an ordinary day. But only five minutes after their arrival, the cloaked group blew away half of the street with a Destruction Charm, killing six and injuring thirteen. Jonathan Lambert, a twenty-year-old Auror, was sitting at Florene Flortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, when he saw the incident happen. "I was far enough away to not be harmed by the charm, yet close enough so I could see what was going on," he told us. "They moved in a tight pack, the traditional group movement of Death Eaters." To make matters worse, as soon as the chaos had begun, one of the supposed Death Eaters shot the Dark Mark into the sky. Passersby panicked and ran into the shops, turning over stands and disarranging shelves and displays. Diagon Alley today (bottom left) is undergoing reconstruction, and will be open to the public in a week.

"Oh God," said Hermione weakly. "This is horrible."

"It is isn't it?" Harry said bitterly, leaning against the stone wall. "Why would they attack Diagon Alley?"

"I don't know," she replied, looking at the photographs with a sick feeling in her stomach. "But I know Jonathan Lambert."

"You do?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. He was the Advanced DADA teacher at the Auror training camp. We had dinner once, and he checked in on Draco and I frequently."

"You had dinner?" Harry asked faintly.

"Just a short one, because Draco showed up drunk."

"Drunk?!"

"Calm down Harry," Hermione said quickly. "We're getting off the topic here. My point is what would he be doing in Diagon Alley?"

"There's no law against visiting Diagon Alley," Harry reminded her gently.

"Of course there isn't," she answered distractedly. "It's just...odd."

"Well there you have it," Harry said, folding his arms, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "The Death Eaters strike again. They never quit, do they?"

Hermione looked up at his face. He still had his glasses off, yet his eyes were closed. Hermione didn't see Harry too often without his glasses. They had the effect of making him look younger than he really was, and when he had them off, it surprised Hermione how much older he looked. His hair grew in the same stubborn way, sticking out all over the place, and his scar remained clearly visible against his tanned skin. Quidditch, Hermione thought with a smile. He wasn't the scrawny boy she used to know either. Quidditch had definitely built up his physique, not to mention tanned his skin. Without thinking what she was doing, she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Harry opened his eyes, emerald green meeting dark brown.

"What was that for?" he asked, putting his glasses back on.

"No reason," Hermione said, with a small smile.

***

"I have an announcement to make," Dumbledore said. Hermione looked up from her plate. They were in the Great Hall eating dinner, and just as Draco had said, Dumbledore was about to inform them all of the Yule Ball. "This Christmas, we will have a Yule Ball." The Great Hall erupted into cheers and shouting. "It will be held on the twenty-third, so please do not waste time in finding a partner. Be sure to wear dress robes, and no muggle clothes," he said, particularly in the direction of Parvati and Lavender, who scowled. "Also, the Quidditch points stand thus." Dumbledore went on to explain the current standing in Quidditch points. Then he sat down, and at once, everyone began talking, giving the room the sound as if it were alive with bees.

"Alright!" Ron exclaimed, spearing an asparagus with his fork. "A Yule Ball!"

"I thought you hated them Ron," Hermione said with a giggle.

"But now he actually has someone to go with," Harry whispered in her ear, and she ducked beneath the table laughing.

"Of course it's Rowena, right?" Hermione asked, once she had come into view from beneath the table.

"Well," Ron began, turning red. "I'm going to ask her--."

"You're going to take me to the ball right?" someone asked behind him. Ron spun around and saw Rowena.

"If you'll have me," said Ron. In response, Rowena bent down and kissed Ron soundly on the lips. Harry made a face and promptly turned around and became interested at the Staff Table.

"If I'll have you, honestly," Rowena scowled. "Of course I'll have you."

"So Hermione," said Harry, clearing his throat and turning around to face her. "Do you want to go?"

"I wouldn't miss it," said Hermione.

"No silly, do you want to go with me," Harry said, pointing to himself. Hermione grinned.

"Sure I'll go with you," she responded, taking a bite out of her roll. "I wouldn't go with anyone else anyway." This didn't encourage Harry any.

"You're not going with me just because I'm the only one who will ask you is it?" Harry asked. Hermione nearly dropped her spoon.

"Of course not!" she cried out. "Harry, you're treating me as if I'm cheating you behind your back or something," Hermione said, poking him in the ribs.

"I was only asking," was his defensive response. "I have to be inquisitive, otherwise I'll be labeled as the Boy Who Never Asked."

"Or the Boy Who Asked Too Much," Hermione said thoughtfully, and Harry glared at her, although he couldn't keep from smiling.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop asking so many questions. Just checking."

"You're so funny Harry, and you just don't know it," Hermione grinned, shaking her head. Harry shrugged.

"I guess I know about it now, don't I?" he said sarcastically, and he earned himself a bagel in the face.

***

"Ginny? I have a question to ask you," Hermione said, flopping down on the younger girl's bed. Ginny looked up from her Potions homework. Hermione looked troubled.

"Sure, ask away," Ginny replied, setting down her quill and closing her Potions book. Hermione bit her lip, glancing around the room nervously. "Go on Herm, whatever it is can't be that bad."

"Alright," said Hermione, taking a deep breath. "I have this, er, friend, and she's in a bit of a fix. You see, she has this friend, and he also happens to be her boyfriend. Well she went away for a little bit with her boyfriend's archenemy. And over that period of time, she did a bit of...untrustworthy stuff."

"Right," Ginny said slowly. "What kind of untrustworthy stuff?" Mentally, Ginny was thinking that Hermione had been stupid enough to think that she, Ginny, would actually believe her.

"Untrustworthy as in flirting with the archenemy, possibly even kissing him. God he's a good kisser," she added to herself, and Ginny nearly cried out. "Basically stuff the girl wouldn't do around her boyfriend."

"Hermione, I'm not stupid okay?" Ginny said, and Hermione flushed scarlet.

"I--I know that Ginny, nobody said you were," she began, trying to find the right words.

"You're talking about Malfoy and Harry right? And you kissed Malfoy?! Damn."

"Ginny, you're not helping!" Hermione exclaimed, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. "I really need your advice."

"I really don't see what you're asking me," Ginny said. "You told me about the whole untrustworthy thing, and about Harry and stuff, but why are you so disturbed?"

"Guilt. It's basically pure guilt. I did kiss Draco, but I shoved him away later. Actually he kissed me, twice, and one time he was drunk. I was drunk the second time."

"Okay, I think I have the solution," Ginny announced proudly, and Hermione looked flabbergasted.

"You do?"

"Yup. You, alcohol, and Malfoy don't mix."

"Ginny!" Hermione yelled, and she promptly attacked her with a pillow. Ginny, after landing a few good hits on Hermione with her stuffed bear, laughed. "I'm sorry Hermione, but it seems every time you kissed or were kissed by Malfoy, one of you were drunk."

"But being drunk doesn't have anything to do with it at the moment," Hermione protested. "Right now, I'm thinking of how I should break the news to Harry."

"Well technically, you were a traitor and a double-crosser. But if you don't say anything to Harry, it's not lying. If he asks, then tell him the truth. Now I'm not saying to keep silent. If it were me, I'd tell him."

"You think so?" Hermione asked, biting her lip. Ginny nodded, her long red hair bouncing.

"Definitely. Now I have a question for you."

"Go for it."

"What does Malfoy kiss like?" she asked, and Hermione turned so red that Ginny could practically feel the heat emanating from Hermione's face.

"Virginia Weasley!" Hermione shrieked, and Ginny giggled.

"Come on, I'm dying to know. I've got this bet going with Anna."

"Well, it was...oh I can't say it, Harry would kill me."

"Just tell him I used Veritaserum on you or something. Now come on, spill," Ginny asked, in a girly teenage spirit.

"It was...intoxicating," Hermione began. "And...uhh, very, very...overwhelming."

"Enough big words. What did he taste like? Were his lips smooth? Did he do any button-fumbling?"

"Button fumbling?" Hermione echoed.

"You know, as in shirt buttons?"

"Ginny I refuse to answer that," Hermione said sternly, and Ginny looked vaguely put out.

***