Meet the Kids

Chapter 8

Truth or Dare?

When Hermione and Draco returned to the Gryffindor common room late that night they only stayed long enough to comfort Lizzie and Dave, who were both in shock, as best they could (actually it was mostly Hermione doing the talking while Draco stood back unsure of what to do), before going to their respective dormitories.

"I'm sure the adults will find Cissa," Hermione said consolingly, as Lizzie mechanically climbed into her bed without even changing into her nightgown.

Lizzie nodded, still worried, and Hermione sighed, rubbing her eyes wearily. She changed and got into bed, but did not fall asleep immediately. Megan's and Donna's whispers slowly stuck up a dull, continuous lullaby around the room. Hermione had quite forgotten that Donna's sister, Lauren, was also missing, until she heard Lizzie tell Donna not to worry either, though her voice was shaking a bit.

Hermione tried not to dwell on the fact that now they were not only missing a Time-Turner, but two girls, one of them her future daughter. She sighed into her pillow as the hushed conversation finally began to die down. She wanted Harry and Ron from the time period she lived in with her. And a part of her, a very small part of her, was very glad that she at least had Draco.

The next morning breakfast was noticeably subdued, and to her mild surprise Hermione found herself conversing more with Draco than with any of the others. The skin under his eyes was a bit darker than his normal pale color but except for his obvious weariness he seemed in perfect condition.

They did not mention either of the memories they had seen in the Pensieve, but Hermione found herself thinking of them nonetheless throughout the morning as they walked silently around the castle with the other teens, from one adult to another. She also found herself thinking of Draco quite a bit. He hadn't said anything remotely insulting since the previous afternoon, and whenever he spoke to her he had shown nothing but courtesy. There was not even apparent dislike in his gaze when he glanced at her. Part of her was shocked and found this extremely discomforting, but another part of her was almost . . . happy. Hermione flushed just thinking that she was slowly becoming accustomed to Malfoy. She recalled their conversation after leaving the Room of Requirement the previous day, how he had willingly let her break her promise and laugh about the strange proposal. He hadn't even seemed that perturbed when she'd mentioned the ferret incident, and his smile seemed to actually reach his eyes. It was as if it had been genuine.

The look on his face when she had asked if he were going to the dance at the Three Broomsticks was memorable as well. She hadn't realized how much her question could be misinterpreted when she asked. Hermione had only been curious, because she was trying to figure out if she herself wanted to go and it would be best if they stuck together all things considering.

Her smile faded a bit as she thought back to the second Pensieve scene, where Drake had proposed and Mia had accepted. It was absurd. Extremely funny and as sweet of Drake as it had been, Hermione didn't see how that could ever truly happen. Malfoy might be becoming tolerable, but under no circumstances did that mean she ever wanted to marry him. They weren't even friends, just two former enemies whose dislike was starting to strangely abate. Hermione still thought he was a ridiculous, arrogant prat, and she was sure that everything would go back to normal once they were back in the present. The only reason they had "bonded" was because they had been thrown together unwillingly into a time period when it was relief to have anyone familiar with you. Besides, Hermione thought- and it was not the first time she had done so, it was so much easier to dislike him and be done with it. Ignoring Malfoy was something she had grown quite good at over the years considering how much she loathed him. Just because he was unexpectedly behaving kindly did not mean it was more than temporary. It would all change back once this was over.

Hermione tried to squash any feeling of regret. The Malfoy she had joked with yesterday was a one-time occurrence. They were only being polite because it was necessary. Something strangely beautiful and romantic had happened to Mia and Drake but it would not be happening for their counterparts.

And Hermione tried to tell herself that that was all for the best. She did not want Draco Malfoy as anything more than a fellow student that she treated politely. And nor would she ever.

* * *

After lunch Hermione felt a most insistent, overwhelming need to get to the library, desperate for at least one sanctuary that would hopefully be the same as the present. She was also in dire need to a good book.

"Do you really need me to come?" Draco said grumpily as he followed her. "I don't see why you had to drag me with you to the library."

"I'd like some company," Hermione said sternly, reminded quite strongly of an impatient child.

"Yes, but why do you need my company? I was doing just fine in the common room."

"Brooding all day is not healthy," Hermione said quite bossily. "Besides, you don't even like Gryffindor."

She had to turn to catch his nod of agreement, alarmed for a split second when she didn't hear an immediate verbal reply.

They entered the library, Draco still walking a few steps behind her, glaring mutinously. Hermione gave the room a cursory glance before heading toward one of her favorite, most familiar spots in the library, one she knew very well despite the fact that she owned the book herself.

Hermione smiled, taking Hogwarts, A History down from the shelf. It was a relief that there was still a copy available. She turned around and walked straight into Malfoy.

"Malfoy!" She glared at him irately as he smirked. "Would you mind not invading my personal space?"

"I'm just keeping you company, darling."

"Don't call me darling!" Hermione snapped.

"I wouldn't dream of it, sweetie, except it's going to undoubtedly attract a lot of attention if I yell your surname out for the whole room to hear." He craned his neck, his smirk growing wider. "Plus, that little flush in your cheek makes you look quite cute when you're mad."

Hermione could feel said blush creeping onto her face. "I thought my nickname was supposed to be 'Beauty'?"

The smirk disappeared from his face, and Hermione laughed, brushing past him to an empty table where she promptly began reading. A few moments later she heard him sit beside her, clearly disgruntled.

"I can't believe we're trapped in the future and you'd rather sit here and read a book I know you've memorized."

"Oh? What makes you think I've memorized it?" Hermione asked airily.

"You're always spouting facts off to Potty and Weasel."

"You eavesdrop on our conversations a lot, do you, dear?"

"Of course, not, love, why would anyone be interested in what you have to say? The other Slytherins and I just happen to unfortunately share a few lessons with you Gryffindors in which we overhear plenty of conversations."

"Always looking for something fresh to make fun of us with," Hermione snapped, beginning to get annoyed. She did not like Drake calling her 'love,' even as a joke.

Draco's eyes flashed. "I don't know what impression you're under, but we don't devote our lives to finding new ways to ruin your boring ones."

Hermione snapped her book shut, stood, and moved to a different table. Much to her annoyance, Draco followed her.

"Why didn't you stay in the common room?" she demanded, forgetting- or perhaps ignoring- the fact that he was only there because of her.

He raised an eyebrow. "Maybe because you took my hand and dragged me to the portrait, insisting you were desperate for me to come with you to this dull place just so we could have this entirely meaningless, useless conversation? It was very touching to know you needed me," he added. "You're certainly the first Gryffindor to openly admit it."

Hermione was so furious with him she actually considered slapping him. But that would mean touching him and under no circumstances did she want that. She looked to her book for solace but did not even find much comfort in that. Why was it that they could be on such friendly terms one moment and ready to curse each other the next? Hermione glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. A half smirk still drifted around his mouth but he was not looking at her, staring around the library with an air of distinct boredom. She frowned. The funny thing was, Malfoy didn't even seem to realize he had truly annoyed her. He acted like it was a game, like this argument was nothing to worry about. Perhaps he really thought they were getting along well, and he honestly thought this was their way of showing it. Maybe he enjoyed their spats, considering them to be their own personal way of conversing. It was true there was no hate or malice in his words.

"Hermione?"

"What?" She snapped out of her thoughts. Draco was waving something in front of her face.

"Do you want some chocolate?" he asked, looking amused at her lapse in concentration. He glanced pointedly at a Chocolate Frog he was holding, the second one he'd gotten from Sean and Sam on their first night there.

"Sure," Hermione said automatically, not pausing to think.

Draco opened the Frog, glanced disinterestedly at the Wizard Card (she could've sworn he gave a sigh of relief and muttered, "Not Potter"), and handed her half the frog. Hermione accepted it with a 'thank you,' almost positive her theory was correct. Judging by his attitude, it seemed indeed true that Draco didn't consider their word spats to be fighting, simply a more amusing way of communicating. Hermione couldn't help grinning just a bit. Their arguments were funny, at least sometimes.

"You two are not allowed to be eating in the library." Hermione's hand automatically closed over her chocolate at the frosty voice behind them. She turned guiltily, swallowing her bite whole.

The librarian stood behind them, glaring at them. Her arms were folded, one of her fingers tapping a steady, annoyed beat on her other arm. She would have been intimidating if Hermione weren't so used to Madame Pince, who was frankly scary when angered, and the fact that the new librarian had quite a nice, motherly face that did not coordinate at all with her current expression.

"Sorry," Hermione said, aware that the chocolate was starting to melt in her hand.

She once more felt a deep feeling of familiarity and peered closer at her.

"Hannah?" she gasped in disbelief. "Hannah Abbott?"

The librarian frowned, now looking faintly bewildered. "Generally students call me Madame Boot." She eyed them closely, her eyebrows knitting. "Do I know you?"

"You married Terry!" Hermione exclaimed, unable to stop herself. Draco choked from beside her; it sounded as if he were covering up a laugh.

The librarian stared at her warily. "Who are you?" She squinted as an expression of equal disbelief spread across her face. "No . . . Hermione?"

Hermione nodded eagerly. Draco gave a small groan from beside her.

Hannah scrutinized him, and then another wave of recognition passed across her face, this one of mild dislike "Are you Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes."

Obviously having forgotten the chocolate, Hannah sank to the bench, sitting next to Hermione, still staring. "What happened?" she asked finally. "Do Lizzie and Dave know you're- well- their age again?"

"Why does everyone think we took de-aging potions?" Draco demanded grumpily. "Why doesn't time travel ever cross their minds?"

Somehow Hannah's eyes managed to get even wider. "You- you what?"

"Hannah, we're from 25 years ago," Hermione said bluntly. "We're still in our seventh year at Hogwarts. Draco and I were patrolling the dungeons and found a Time-Turner, which accidentally brought us here. Dumbledore didn't tell you?"

Hannah shook her head indignantly. "But Hermione knows you're here, doesn't she? I mean-" She became quite flustered. "The Hermione from this year."

"We're calling her Mia," said Hermione quickly. "And yes, she knows. She's here along with Drake- that's what we're calling Draco's future self- Harry, Ron, and Ginny."

Hannah was silent for a moment, comprehending all they'd said. Then she gave a slow nod.

"And to think just a few weeks ago in my time period you had just started dating Terry," Hermione exclaimed, no longer able to contain her glee.

Hannah beamed, her cheeks turning rosy. "Yes, we're married. Our daughter just started at Hogwarts this year." She glanced at Draco again, almost slyly. "Although your little love affair captivated the school much more than ours did . . ."

Hermione blushed furiously, trying not to look at Draco.

He was staring coldly at Hannah. "Indeed."

"We don't plan on it actually happening," Hermione said quickly, feeling the need to make this quite clear. "We just found out about it when we got here Friday night."

Hannah raised her eyebrows, amused. "I imagine that was a bit of a shock."

"Quite," said Draco dryly. Hermione was too embarrassed to respond.

After finally regaining her composure Hermione chatted with Hannah for a few minutes before excusing herself and Draco, who looked quite eager to leave.

They walked back to Gryffindor in silence. Hermione took the chocolate from her pocket and finished it silently. She still didn't look at him, and a pale flush remained as she remembered Hannah's insinuating comments. It was becoming far harder each time to pretend that she still loathed Malfoy.

"Do you think anyone believes us when we say we're not going to end up together?" he asked very matter-of-factly, as if he could read her mind.

Hermione cleared her throat before speaking. "No," she admitted. "Even Harry and Ron seem to think so. Well, you heard what they said yesterday." She hesitated. "You don't think we will, right?"

There was a lengthy paused before he answered, and Hermione grew quite anxious, waiting for an answer. When she finally looked at him, though, his face was impassive. "I hope not."

That did not comfort Hermione at all. He was verbally stating that he was no longer sure anymore that this wouldn't come true once they were back in their own time period. Instead, he was only saying that he hoped it wouldn't, which was discomforting as well, though Hermione couldn't quite pinpoint why.

As they reached the Formerly-Fat Lady's portrait, he turned to face her abruptly, wearing a resigned expression.

"I don't want it to happen- but I'm not sure anymore that we'll be able to stop it."

For a few moments they just stared at each other, neither moving, until the Formerly-Fat Lady's annoyed voice broke the silence.

"Is someone going to say the password or are you going to spend the whole day out here?"

"Caverna leo," Hermione said instantly, shaking her head to clear him from her thoughts.

The irritated portrait swung open, and she climbed in. Lizzie and Donna were sitting on armchair, both looking morose. Megan sat on a seat next to them, looking unsure of what to do. Dave and James were playing an almost silent game of Wizard's Chess next to the fire.

"Have your parents heard anything yet?" Hermione asked in a low voice, sitting on a beanbag beside Lizzie's armchair.

The blonde shook her head. "No."

"What do the girls look like?" Draco asked. "Do you have an photographs?"

Lizzie and Donna exchanged a look, before the latter got to her feet. "I think I have one of both of them at our house during the summer. I'll go get it." She disappeared up to the girls' dormitory and returned a moment later with a photograph.

It was of two girls, both around eleven, smiling and waving at the camera with their arms around each other's shoulders. One had a pretty face with startlingly mature brown eyes and light brown ringlets that bordered on dark blonde. Hermione could tell instantly that it was Narcissa. The other girl had bright blue eyes and long brown hair that looked just like Donna's.

Hermione gasped. She stared at the photo in disbelief and then, hand shaking slightly, turned to Donna.

"What's your sister's name again?" she asked in an agitated whisper. She felt Draco shift closer to her, and could feel his slow, steady breathing on her neck as he leaned over her. One of his hands moved to hers so he could better see the picture. Hermione found she did not mind quite so much as she should have.

"Lauren," Donna replied.

Hermione whirled around, still clutching the picture. Draco started in surprise but did not back away, one hand still lightly touching hers.

"What was written on that burned piece of paper?" she asked hurriedly.

Draco thought for a moment. "L. Finn." He shrugged. "The rest was burned off."

"Exactly," Hermione said eagerly. "It could have stood for Lauren Finnigan!"

Draco stared at her for a moment, and then dawning comprehension began to spread across his face.

"No," he said in disbelief. "You don't think- Narcissa and Lauren somehow ended up in our time period?"

Hermione nodded, ignoring the searching, bewildered looks on all three girls' faces. "Remember the brown haired girl I saw just before we fainted-"

"Malfoy do not faint. We lose consciousness."

"Whatever. I'm positive that was Lauren."

"But how would they have gotten 25 years in the past? Unless . . ."

Hermione and Draco realized the answer at the exact same time.

"No," Hermione whispered, shocked at the idea, yet knowing it had to be the truth.

"They must have," Draco said slowly. "Somehow Narcissa and Lauren found Lizzie's missing Time-Turner, went back in time to our seventh year, and then accidentally dropped the Time-Turner so we found it."

"Which means, Lizzie's Time-Turner is 25 years in the past," Hermione said grimly. "It's not here at Hogwarts at all. At least not in this Hogwarts."

Hermione gave a small sigh as she realized all the complications this revelation had just brought up, and she groaned, slumping against the armchair next to Lizzie's dangling legs. Draco, looking uncharacteristically hesitant and quite unsure, gave her a gentle, comforting rub on the shoulder before quickly removing her hand. Hermione rather wished he hadn't stopped.

"Cissa's in the past?" Lizzie's voice was filled with skepticism, yet there was no doubt in her face.

"What do you mean our time period?" Donna's voice shook slightly and she glanced from one face to the other, confused. "I thought you were from London!"

Hermione's eyes flew open, and she stared at Draco in alarm.

"Fabulous," he groaned.

"Lizzie," said Megan slowly. "What's going on?"

With a very resigned expression on her face that didn't do anything to suppress her worried, vaguely panicky one about her sister, Lizzie explained everything to her friends in as little detail as possible. When she was done Megan seemed to have forgotten their immediate worry and was looking at Hermione and Draco interestedly.

"You mean you're Lizzie and Dave's parents from 25 years ago?"

"Yes," said Draco irritably. Hermione could see he was getting tired of having to explain it all the time.

"That's amazing," Donna said, and Hermione was reminded distinctly of Luna Lovegood.

"That's got to be the explanation," said Lizzie dejectedly. "It makes sense. We haven't been able to find any trace of Cissa and Lauren because they don't exist here anymore, and my Time-Turner-" she gave a loud groan. "Oh, how dreadfully ironic that's it's lost in time."

"How are we going to get them back?" Megan mused. Donna nodded vigorously, a fearful look on her face.

"The first thing to do is to tell the adults," said Hermione firmly, getting to her feet. "They'll have a better idea of what to do, Dumbledore especially."

"Right," said Lizzie briskly, with a bit of her normal vigor and vitality returning. "And we won't have to mope around here all day, either, if we know where they are." Her expression brightened considerably. "In fact, we'll be able to go the dance at the Three Broomsticks tonight!"

Hermione smiled wryly at her daughter's swiftly changing attitude to the whole affair but said nothing.

The group left the common room in a hurry, Draco trailing behind as the four girls chatted quickly, discussing possible ideas on what they would do.

"You don't think there's a charm we could use to travel through time? No . . . I suppose there wouldn't be, or everyone would be using it."

"It wouldn't hurt to ask Dumbledore, though. He would know best if there was one."

"The question is," Hermione said, frowning as she thought. "If Lizzie's using her Time-Turner for school, why did Narcissa and Lauren get sent back 25 years? They couldn't possibly have it turned it that many hours."

There were quick agreements from all sides. Shortly they reached the stone gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office, and Lizzie gave the password. It sprang open and they waited for the revolving staircase to bring them to the top. Hermione only hoped that one of the adults was inside. They had been moving from all over the castle all day, and she had no idea where any of them were now.

After knocking on the door, they entered. Luckily both Harry and Ron were there, speaking seriously with Dumbledore. Jamie was also in the office, sitting slumped in a chair by Fawkes' perch, obviously bored. She perked up immediately upon seeing them enter, drawing the adults' attention to them at once.

"Finally!" Jamie exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "I can't believe you guys spent all that time in Gryffindor without me! I had to walk around with Dad all day!"

Ron gave her a withering yet nevertheless affectionate glance. "Jamie, I told you to go back to Slytherin. It's not my fault you wanted to follow us."

Jamie flushed pink. "Everything interesting always happens to Gryffindors," she said crossly. "And I can't go into your bloody tower during the day."

If Dumbledore gave any sign of hearing her insinuation of going there at other times, he gave no indication of it.

"You'd be welcome to leave your little viper nest and join us lions, only, we're full up you see," Lizzie said sweetly.

"That's my line," Jamie sniffed. "Where's Dave?"

Lizzie looked quite startled and then amused. "I think we forgot them in the common room."

"Their fault for playing too much chess instead of being sufficiently worried about Cissa and Lauren," said Megan indifferently.

"Is there something we can help you with, girls?" Harry asked dryly.

Draco let out a small cough from the back.

Ron stared at him in horror. "Who do you think you are, Umbridge?" There was a chorus of laughter around the room.

Draco glared at Harry and Ron. "You forgot me. Probably intentionally."

For a minute Harry looked surprised, as if he honestly had forgotten Draco was there, before his eyes quickly flashed in annoyance. "Or I could have just been calling you a girl," he suggested, and Ron snorted.

Draco narrowed his eyes at them. "Do curse scars make you blind as well as stupid?"

Hermione was surprised to see how angry Harry and Draco both looked. She sighed. Their squabbles were starting to get quite tiresome, even in the past. True, Malfoy was absolutely horrible to Harry and Ron, and it was usually he who started their fights, but one would think they could at least manage to stop insulting each other in this type of situation. After all, it was clear that Harry and Drake had managed to set aside their differences. Even Sirius and Snape had been able to work together without killing each other. Well, if working together counted as behaving positively murderous and railing insults at each other at each chance. But the thought of Sirius was too painful, and Hermione tried instantly too shove it from her mind.

"What's going on?"

Drake had just stepped into Dumbledore's office with Mia. James and Dave were behind them, both looking very indignant.

Mia stared uncertainly from Harry's angry face to Draco's. "Harry? What's the matter?"

"Potter?" Drake said, his tone shockingly polite considering Harry and his double were still glaring daggers at each other.

It took a moment, but finally Harry was able to force an equally polite smile onto his face, though it was rather icier as he stared at Drake. "Just having a little chat with your past self."

There was a short, tense silence. It was clear from their expressions that Mia and Drake knew he was lying. Harry was still smiling tightly, and Ron was glaring rather mutinously at Draco. Hermione was reminded forcefully of the Ron she knew back in her present. Draco had not stopped glaring, either. Dumbledore was studying them all with his normal, serene composure.

"You left us," Dave said indignantly when he judged it safe to talk, turning to Lizzie. "You didn't tell us you were leaving."

"He's upset because I won two games in a row," James said confidentially, and winked.

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Well, you're here, now, don't get mad." She shot a dark look at Draco and Harry. "I'm starting to understand what things were really like 25 years ago."

There was a pregnant pause in which Lizzie looked around slightly guiltily, though neither Harry nor Draco, much to Hermione's relief, commented.

"Mia, we think we know what happened to Cissa and Lauren," Hermione said quickly. Without further ado she and Draco took turns explaining their theory.

Dumbledore was smiling, and all the other adults looked highly impressed when they had done.

"I suppose it was imperative for Miss Finnigan and Miss Longbottom to find out in the process?" Professor Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.

Lizzie grinned unabashedly. "Yes."

"Personally, I don't see how we didn't see it before," Megan said, disgruntled, staring from Mia to Hermione and then from Drake to Draco. "You look exactly alike."

"This is so romantic," Donna sighed dreamily, clasping her hands and looking from Hermione to Draco, grinning. "Now you know you'll be married!"

There was another lengthy pause. Hermione was only too aware that her cheeks were flaming red again. Honestly, she had never blushed so much in her life before this weekend. If it kept up she'd consider challenging Ron to a competition of who could turn the reddest. It'd be easy to win; all she'd have to do would tell him Malfoy was as good as his future "brother-in-law," and he'd turn green.

"We are not getting married," Draco said shortly, obviously trying to keep his temper in control.

Donna's dreamy look vanished at once. "What do you mean?" she demanded indignantly. "Is living together without marriage a fad in your time period?"

"We're not going to be living together," Draco said impatiently. "We're not dating, or having kids, or getting married, or anything!"

"Why not?" Megan demanded.

"Because . . ." Was it Hermione's imagination or did he pause? "We don't like each other."

Donna and Megan looked stunned. "What?"

"Of course you do," Donna said, still sounding indignant. "You have to like each other."

Draco raised an eyebrow, something Hermione found annoying and, to her immense shock, slightly endearing as well. "Why?"

"Because you're married." Donna spoke as if this should be obvious.

"No we're not."

"Well, you're going to be," she stormed, as if he had personally insulted her.

"No," Draco said very quietly, once more sounding determined. "We're not."

Donna, still looking furious, was at a loss for words. She turned to Lizzie. "What is he talking about?" she practically shouting, gesticulating wildly with her hands. "Your dad is breaking up with your mum!"

Hermione tried to muffle a quick laugh but failed. "We've never gone out in the first place."

Donna glanced around in consternation. "Why not?"

"Because supposedly we don't start until the end of November and it's only the beginning," said Hermione simply.

Donna stared and then blinked, embarrassed. "Oh. Right then. That would explain it."

"But that doesn't mean you can't still end up together," Megan argued. "Once you get back to the past you'll undoubtedly have to have your memories modified, and then you'll have forgotten all about this. You'll still fall in love."

Hermione glanced at Draco, alarmed. The idea of having her memory modified before going back home had never crossed her mind, and it was appalling. Clearly it had never occurred to Draco either, for he appeared such as shocked.

"Have our memories modified?" he repeated, whirling to glare at the adults accusingly. "No one said anything about that!"

Hermione, sure that Mia and Drake were about to tell them reassuringly that of course that wouldn't happen, was further stunned to see them exchange worried glances, first with each other and then with Harry and Ron.

"You're kidding," she exclaimed, furious. "You can't modify our memories."

"If you did that there's a chance we'd still end up together," Draco said sharply, glaring suspiciously from one adult to the next.

Hermione suddenly realized why they no one had believed them when they said they wouldn't end up together once they got back to their own time period. "You're going to take away our memories so we're not forewarned? So we can't prevent this?" she sputtered, horrified.

Mia stepped forward, a placating expression on her nervous face. "Please don't overreact, and don't take it that way. No one's said anything definite about whether or not we'll have to use Memory Charms."

"Hermione, you could change the past," Harry said seriously. "Technically it's the law that you have to have your memories modified before going back. You know too much about the future."

"It's dangerous," Drake said abruptly. "We know you're both extremely intelligent but that doesn't mean you wouldn't accidentally let something slip. And we don't want you changing anything." Automatically his hand went out and slipped protectively around Mia's waist. Under normal circumstances, if it hadn't been her memory they were talking about modifying, Hermione would have felt extreme sympathy for him. After all, she couldn't imagine someone telling her that the past was going to be changed so she wouldn't end up with her spouse. Of course, said spouse would have to be someone she loved . . .

"None of us want that to happen," Mia said anxiously, and she seemed to be sincerely sorry, trying not to hurt their feelings. "But we are a bit worried."

"Worried that we won't end up together," Draco said brusquely.

The silence that followed was the longest of all since they'd all ended up in Dumbledore's office again. It was beginning to become routine.

"Yes, Draco," Mia said hesitantly, shooting a worried glance at her husband, who had pulled her even closer to him. "If you don't . . . it could affect a lot of lives." This time she exchanged a look with Harry and Ron, her eyes also resting fleetingly on Dumbledore.

"In any case, the Ministry has to be alerted if the Time-Turner is really missing," said Harry. "Then there's a good chance they will insist on using Memory Charms."

"Miss Granger, you would understand, of course, how careful one has to be with time," Dumbledore said quietly, surveying her calmly. He held her gaze for a moment, and Hermione knew he was alluding to her own Time-Turner in third year. "Technically, it's not safe to let you go back remembering all that you've learned, because you could purposely change the timeline to your whim."

The faintest trace of a smile on his lips left them in no doubt that he did not honestly believe they would do anything of the sort, or, at least not something harmful. Hermione did not see how changing her and Malfoy's relationship could be harmful in any way, unless you counted erasing Lizzie and Dave, but they technically didn't exist yet anyway. It was all very confusing.

"We can't worry about that right now, though," Mia said firmly, ending the conversation. "We have more important things to worry about, such as finding out how we're going to get Cissa and Lauren back."

"Not to mention the dance," Lizzie said brightly. She seemed to have forgotten or either stopped caring quite so much that her little sister was lost in the past 25 years ago. Perhaps it was no longer of such importance now that they knew exactly where she was, Hermione thought.

"Are you positive the girl you saw in the past is really Lauren Finnigan?" Dumbledore asked.

Hermione slowly nodded, recalling every detail from the dungeon she could and then holding up Donna's photograph. "It's her." There was finality in her tone even she did not expect. She was speaking the truth and everyone in the room knew it.

Dumbledore gave a heavy sigh. "Then we shall have to alert the Ministry at once. This problem must be dealt with immediately before something happens to those girls."

Lizzie, too, sighed, but hers was wistful. "Imagine how much fun they must be having." She ignored the several reproachful looks thrown her way.

"Is the Minister of Magic still Amelia Bones?" Hermione asked, for indeed, Susan Bone's aunt had become the Minister after Fudge was kicked out of office early in their second year.

"No," Dumbledore said, giving them a small smile once more. "She only wanted temporary placement. Our minister is one I'm sure you'll find- much more to your liking than Cornelius." There was a twinkle in his eye that suggested he knew a joke they did not.

"Mum, can we go get ready now?" Lizzie asked, tossing her hair flippantly and looking expectantly at Mia.

Mia nodded, faintly amused. "You'd rather go to a dance that be worried about your little sister?"
It was uncanny how she and Hermione were thinking along the same lines.

"I'm sure Cissa's having the time of her life being in the past," Lizzie replied breezily. "We should get to have a little fun, too."

"Don't worry, Mrs Granger," said Jamie, slinging an arm each around Lizzie's and Hermione's shoulders, giving the latter a sly wink. "They'll turn up again, I expect. Narcissa and Lauren are pretty good at taking care of themselves."

"Besides, we have to get Hermione all dressed up, as well," Megan added. Hermione didn't like the look on her face either. All four girls reminded her of Crookshanks cornering a mouse.

Jamie threw a careless look at her friends. "We should have enough goodies between us to dress her up properly."

"Indeed," said Donna, smirking evilly.

"And you can take care of Daddy dearest, I presume?" Lizzie asked Dave casually.

Her twin nodded. Hermione saw Draco's Adam's Apple bob up and down as he swallowed nervously.

"But of course," James replied, taking Draco's elbow firmly in hand and steering him toward the door.

"We'll have lots of fun," Dave said as they propelled him towards Dumbledore's door. "I imagine he's not that used to wearing Muggle clothes."

"Muggle clothes?" Hermione grinned at the decisively panicked note in Draco's voice. "What do you mean you're going to take care of me? I don't want to be dressed up!"

Hermione would have had a good laugh if she hadn't been thinking the same thing. A split second later Megan had linked arms with her and she was being pulled along just as forcefully as Dave and James had been steering Draco.

"We'll see you later," Lizzie called over her shoulder, grinning wickedly. The last thing Hermione saw past the door before it was closed completely was the twinkling, benign smile on Dumbledore's face that hinted at hidden mirth, as if he still knew untold secrets. Hermione couldn't help thinking that, if persuaded, Dumbledore would be able to guess at exactly what would happen to her and Draco once they got back home. She didn't think she would like it. And she knew he would be right.

* * *

Hermione stared disconsolately at herself in the full-length mirror hung on the back of the door to the girls' dormitory.

She had been right in judging the girls' gleeful expressions as wicked and evil.

They had indeed gone wild over the task of finding her a suitable outfit, and Hermione was beginning to feel much less sorry that Lizzie was going to cease to exist.

Come to think of it, with a few hints to Ron, maybe she could even manage to make sure Jamie wouldn't exist either.

"Absolutely perfect," Megan said, beaming at Hermione as if she expected her to smile and agree.

Lizzie was satisfied, as well. "Probably not what you're used to wearing, but I'm sure you'll be able to deal with it.

Jamie, who had once more snuck into Gryffindor, eyed her critically. "She might need an accessory or two to accent the clothes."

Hermione surveyed her reflection. It wasn't terrible, she reflected, but it was certainly not how she normally dressed.

Lizzie had lent her a light blue halter top that was a bit more revealing than she wanted. In fact, she had refused point blank to wear it. They had managed to convince her to try it on, though, and they hadn't let her take it off. It had a ridiculously thin strap, but when she pointed out that it was November and probably freezing it out, Donna had only handed her a gauzy white cut-off sweater that only had one button at the top. For pants she wore low cut form-fitting black satiny pants. Hermione had to admit that she did look pretty, but was extremely uncomfortable.

"This sweater is practically see through," she said grumpily, turning to look at her profile.

"That's the point," Jamie said impatiently, as if this should be obvious.

"It's absurd. Why can't I wear that skirt of Megan's?" The skirt in question was a plaid blue and pink one that Hermione thought would look very nice with a concealing blouse.

"Because it's too dull for tonight," Lizzie said dismissively.

"Well I'm not wearing this," Hermione said vehemently.

"Yes, you are," Jamie said firmly. She was digging determinedly through Lizzie's jewelry box.

"Where's the strings of pearls you have?"

"I have it," Donna exclaimed, running to her bedside and holding out her necklace case. Hermione groaned as Jamie fastened a choker strand of pearls around her neck and then a matching bracelet to her wrist.

"Perfect," she said.

"Coming from Jamie, that's the truth," Megan said in undertones.

"We'll only take a few minutes to get ready," said Lizzie, and she flew back to the wardrobe and began pulling out random dress clothes.

Hermione nodded, too overwhelmed to argue any longer. She used Lizzie's brush and brushed her rambunctious hair, wishing she had some of the Sleakeazy potion she'd used in fourth year for the Yule Ball. Even without it, her hair didn't look as bushy as normal with a blue ribbon pulling it back from her face, she decided.

"Oh, we almost forgot make-up!" Megan cried just as Hermione was about to leave.

She turned, a large feeling of foreboding in her stomach.

"I don't wear make-" she began but Donna had already dragged her to a bed and forced her to sit.

"Bonjour, darlings!"

Hermione struggled to free her chin from Donna's death grip (she was trying to apply mascara) and stared at the newcomer. It was Audrey the last inhabitant of the dorm, the French exchange student who spent so much time with her boyfriend.

"Who is zis?" Audrey asked curiously. Her accent sounded practiced.

"Hermione, meet Audrey," Lizzie said. Hermione could only assume that Audrey did not know Lizzie's parents that well and would not make the name connection.

"Nice to meet you." Hermione tried to sit up to shake her hand but was held down by Megan.

Audrey looked amused. "Pleasure. I see you are all getting ready for ze dance?" she asked crisply.

Lizzie nodded, taking out a pear of jeans and matching it to a long sleeved dark green blouse.

"Let me do zat make-up for you," Audrey said enthusiastically, hurrying to take the powder and brushes from Donna so she and Megan could get dressed. Hermione sighed as the French girl quickly put on lipstick, gold eye shadow, and mascara. She had the ease of one much practiced in the art and looked satisfied after only a moment's work.

"You don't need too much, you look fabulously already. Perfect skin, lovely eyes, only a little color to accentuate here and zair." Hermione thanked her and finally stood, relieved that it was at last over.

"I can leave now?" she inquired gingerly, hoping she wasn't about to be restrained to the bed again for further make-over work.

"Just this," Lizzie said brightly, and promptly sprayed a perfume bottle at her. Hermione coughed as she exited the room as fast as she could. The scent was roses. Not too bad, she decided, though a little warning would've been nice. She sneezed. It had gotten in her eyes, and they were stinging quite badly.

The common room was the fullest it had been since they'd arrived. Many older students were mulling around, waiting to set off for Hogsmeade. Hermione scanned the room nervously, looking for any sign of the boys, and quickly spotted familiar blond hair.

"Hi." Hermione wondered why her voice sounded so nervous and was about to ask if Dave and James were ready, when her breath caught in her throat.

Just like any other teenage girl, Hermione had fun looking at handsome boys. Granted, she usually acted very dignified about it (excepting, perhaps, Professor Lockhart). Harry and Ron she had never considered in physical sense at all because they were her two best friends, but objectively she had to admit that they had both grown up and looked quite good for it. Ron's physique was comely and he had finally grown into his red hair, whereas Harry, who had been on the leaner, scrawnier side a few years ago, had also matured to the point that his messy black hair and bright green eyes were quite attractive.

She had, of course, never considered Malfoy physically because his personality was usually so horrid, but now that she saw him without a smirk on his face it was quite different. She had no idea how they'd done it, but somehow Dave and James had managed to get Draco into a pair of black jeans and a black dress shirt. The stark black against his pale skin and his slightly mussed hair made Hermione's cheeks turn distinctly hot. If it hadn't been Malfoy she would have called him handsome at the minimum. A more flirtatious girl would've unabashedly called him gorgeous. And probably to his face.

"Hi," Draco replied, thankfully not seeming to notice her sudden lack of composure. In fact, he looked disconcerted, too for a moment as he stared at her.

Hermione's blush grew warmer as he took in her whole appearance. His hand strayed to his shirt collar, as if it were suddenly too tight.

"You look very pretty," Draco said, suddenly inarticulate. There was a pale flush in his cheeks that she didn't think had been there a moment ago.

"Thank you," Hermione said. "You look nice, too."

"Thanks." He leaned closer and sniffed delicately. "What scent is that?"

"Roses."

"Oh."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, and he looked away. They waited in awkward silence for the others to come down, neither speaking.

To her great relief it did not take Lizzie and the other girls nearly as much time to dress themselves as it had taken them to dress Hermione. They had probably already planned their outfits. Dave and James were the last to arrive because, as they explained while trying to hold back smiles, they had been trying to convince Ian Thomas he had sufficient courage to ask the girl he fancied to dance that night.

"Where's Jamie?" Hermione asked, noticing the Slytherin hadn't come down.

"She left right after you did to go back to Slytherin to get ready," Lizzie explained. Hermione, distinctly irked that Jamie hadn't gone down with her (and suspicious that it had been on purpose) didn't comment.

Lizzie was squinting at Draco. "Leave one more button undone." She reached forward and flipped open the third button down his shirt.

"That's what we told him," Dave said, amused as a pink flush crept up Draco's face.

"Two is plenty," he grumbled, redoing the button and looking as if he would like to do up the others as well.

"Oh, but three is much more alluring," Megan explained, as if he were dim-witted.

"What do you think, Hermione?" Donna asked, pretending to pout. Lizzie and Megan cracked identical grins. Draco glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Was it her imagination or had his flush darkened ever so slightly?

Ooh, they were evil. Hermione wondered how Luna felt about having children; she wondered how the Ravenclaw would feel after she gave her a chat about why she would do much better as a career woman than a mother.

"I don't have an opinion," Hermione said neutrally, hoping against hope that the cursed blushing hadn't started again. It wasn't exactly true, she admitted to herself at the other girls' disappointed faces. There wasn't anything wrong, exactly, with the teeny-bit-of-neck-changing-into-chest that was visible with the third button open . . .

"Shall we go down to the entrance hall?" James asked, holding his arm out for Lizzie to take. He was dressed in a semi casual state just as Draco was, and Lizzie had on the dark green blouse Hermione had seen her taking out of the closet and a gold flowing skirt.

Dave offered Megan and Donna an arm each. Once again, they were leaving her with no choice but Draco. She was more nervous than annoyed, however, wondering if he would have the manners to proffer his arm as well, or even if she wanted him to.

He seemed to be thinking the same thing and compromised by taking hold of her fingers with his fingertips and drawing her slightly closer. They followed the others through the portrait hole and joined a growing crowd of older students laughing and talking as they descended several flights of stairs to the entrance hall.

"Shouldn't we wait for Mia and the other adults?" Hermione asked. "Weren't they planning on coming?"

Lizzie sighed. "I know," she said regretfully. "They were thinking of it."
"They'll catch up with us if they do want to come. It's not like they don't know the way to the Three Broomsticks," Dave said, smirking slightly.

Megan and Donna drifted away to find their own boyfriends, who were Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw respectively.

A moment later Jamie appeared at the top of the steps leading to the dungeon, dressed in the scantiest dress Hermione had seen all evening. It made her outfit look like a nun's habit in comparison. She had on a silvery, low cut mini dress with straps so thin they were almost invisible. A green sash was around her waist, and she wore a black faux fur coat that Hermione somehow guessed was more for appearance than warmth.

"Does Weasley know you own that?" Draco asked, as he looked her up and down. "That looks more like Pansy's taste . . ."

"Ron would have a heart attack if he saw her like that," Lizzie said jauntily.

"Ah, so that's why you're wearing it." Hermione squeezed his hand rather hard in rebuke, and he winced.

Hermione tried to release his hand and found he would not let go. Glaring at him as they began walking toward the doors, he smirked, his eyebrows raised wickedly. It was not such a terrible facial expression when there wasn't any malice behind it.

"I didn't realize Gryffindors had such a passion for physical violence," he murmured in her ear. Hermione was very cross when a shiver went tingling down her spine. He finally let go.

Jamie was eyeing Draco critically. "Why isn't your third button open?" She reached up and smartly unhooked it once more. Draco grumbled, but after pointed stares from Jamie and Lizzie, didn't redo it.

The walk to Hogsmeade did not take long and the night air was surprisingly warmer than it normally was in November, Donna's gauzy sweater keeping Hermione warm.

They entered the Three Broomsticks. All the tables had been put around the perimeter of the room, and a large open space was in the middle of the floor. A band, not a well-known one Hermione guessed, but still a good one, played behind the bar. She had the distinct impression that a spell similar to the one that Mr. Weasley had used on his old Ford Anglia to give it more space on the inside had been used on the Three Broomsticks because there seemed to be an awfully lot of people filling up the pub.

Jamie and Dave disappeared immediately, and James and Lizzie, the latter winking all too conspicuously, also moved away so that Hermione and Draco were once more alone. Hermione stared glumly around the Three Broomsticks, not much inclined to dance. She wasn't terrible at dancing and had had a marvelous time at the Yule Ball with Victor, but that was because she had wanted to be there.

The music wasn't nearly as exciting as the Weird Sisters had been either, and the dancing wasn't quite the same. She had always laughed at her parents for reminiscing over how different the music and dancing was between their teenage years and their daughter's. Now Hermione knew exactly how they felt. A pang suddenly resounded in her. What had happened to her parents?

"Do you want to get something to drink?" Draco suggested. She nodded, relieved that he didn't expect her to dance, and followed him to the bar, where a young woman was handing out butterbeers.

"Drake gave me some money earlier," Draco explained, handing her a butterbeer. Hermione took a big gulp and a warm feeling instantly filled her stomach. At least some things were still the same. She watched the couples dancing on the floor, moving rhythmically to the fast beat. Lizzie and Jamie, rejoined by Megan, Donna, and several girls Hermione didn't recognize, had formed a semicircle with their boyfriends and were dancing and laughing. She looked away and sipped more butterbeer. The song ended and a new one, slightly slower but still with a catchy beat, started.

"Excuse me?"

Hermione turned at the tap on her shoulder and found herself looking at a handsome stranger.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked politely. Hermione was about to decline when Lizzie suddenly appeared at her shoulder.

"Of course she wouldn't mind! Hermione, this is Andrew Tarpsin, a Ravenclaw prefect in our year. Draco, you don't mind letting her go for a minute, do you?" Lizzie asked sweetly, making sure that Andrew knew Hermione had a "boyfriend."

Draco's eyes had narrowed but he shook his head. "Be my guest."

Hermione, wishing he had protested because she really did not want to dance with a stranger, even a respectable looking one like Andrew, reluctantly moved to the dance floor. She swayed to the music, lightly touching her partner's shoulders as he held her waist. They turned and she caught sight of Draco. He was still staring at them through squinted eyes, as if he did not like what he was seeing. His butterbeer sat on the bar, forgotten. The song ended abruptly and was replaced by an even slower one. Hermione opened her mouth to excuse herself but Andrew had already tried to take one of her hands.

Draco stood quickly and walked over to them. "If you don't mind, I'd like to dance with my girlfriend now." He spoke politely but firmly, his tone cool and commanding. Andrew smiled graciously, however, releasing her.

"Of course. Thank you for the dance," he added, inclining his head towards Hermione. He moved away to chat with Lizzie and James. Draco watched him, apparently disgusted.

"He seemed nice," Hermione said when he was out of earshot.

Draco shot her a cold look. "Would you have preferred I hadn't interrupted?"

"No, it's fine," she said, startled at his icy tone. Hermione glanced at him closer. "Are you jealous?" she asked incredulously.

He snorted. "Don't be silly. Why would I be jealous?"

"You called me your girlfriend." She sounded more accusing than she had meant.

"I thought you didn't want to dance," he snapped, making to move away.

Hermione instinctively reached out before she could stop herself and caught his shoulder. "Thank you." Andrew had seemed perfectly friendly but she had been uncomfortable.

He eyed her suspiciously for a moment and then said, "You're welcome."

Hermione was suddenly aware that they were still standing in the middle of the dance floor, and people were having to move around them to keep from bumping them.

Without asking Draco put a hand swiftly on her waist and grabbed her hand with his other. He held it lightly though, allowing her to step back if she didn't want to dance. Hermione relaxed and put her other hand on his shoulder. Suddenly she was much more comfortable with the idea of dancing. They swayed, and the song became slower.

"And I know that all I need for now is you . . ."

Hermione closed her eyes, and stopped distinguishing the lyrics, which were almost too sweet in her opinion. Almost instinctively Draco drew her closer and she leaned her head against his chest. It was quite relaxing, she thought, all of a sudden drowsy. And he was very warm and comfortable. She could feel his arms on her back. Hers were around his neck. He was breathing right next to her ear, and if she listened closely she almost imagined she could hear his heart beating. Or perhaps it was just the pulsing of hers, beating faster and then slowing as she marveled at how easy it was to be dancing with Draco. It shouldn't be this easy, a small part of her said. It shouldn't be so easy to just forget the six years of loathing you've shared. You shouldn't be doing this at all . . .

What would Harry and Ron say? It was funny to think how disgruntled Ron became about Victor. Imagine if he knew she was dancing with Malfoy . . .

Hermione's eyes snapped open. She sprang out of his arms just as the song finally ended. Looking at him, she found she could not even get out a coherent word and, to her great chagrin, she was once again blushing. Draco Malfoy was seriously starting to have a bad effect on her health . . . or at least her facial coloring.

"Butterbeer?" Draco choked out, looking just as stunned as she.

Hermione nodded fervently. Reclaiming her bottle of butterbeer from the bar she took long drawn out gulps and stared purposely at anything in the room but Draco. She was hot all of a sudden. The gauzy sweater was too heavy with all the heat in the room. She turned and saw Draco staring at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Don't tell me you're planning to spend the whole night standing on the side!" Lizzie had emerged out of nowhere, looking shocked. She dragged Hermione and Draco to their feet. "C'mon, I'll dance with you Dad, and Dave'll go with Mum. Try to have some fun!" she urged, rolling her eyes.

Hermione sighed but did not resist as Dave, smiling reassuringly at her, pulled her onto the dance floor. Glancing around, she saw Draco looked just as despondent, though that wasn't for lack of trying on Lizzie's part to liven him up.

"Why are you so scared that you're starting to like him?" Startled, Hermione's eyes flew back to Dave. He was watching her closely, a small, sad smile on his otherwise serious face.

"I don't-" Hermione bit her lip anxiously, knowing it was useless to protest. "I'm not scared."

"But you do like him?"

She hesitated. "Yes, I suppose I do; a little anyway." Dave had the decency to not ask any more questions, and she danced next with James, who helped her start to relax again by pointing Ian out in a whisper. Dean's son was standing in a corner, talking nervously to a shy looking girl with bright red ringlets.

"It's been very hard trying to set them up," he chuckled, smiling affectionately at the pair, who had started to awkwardly dance.

"But why do you need to?" She tried not to sound accusing but it was hard; it sounded too much like what they were trying to do to her and Draco.

"Because they like each other," he said simply, still smiling. "And we're not hurting them by prodding them in the right direction."

Hermione did not probe further. They were right; giving advice was not necessarily bad. And perhaps trying to make sure she and Draco at least got to know each other wasn't so bad either. She had told Dave the truth when she said she was starting to like Draco.

The night wore on. She danced to a fast song with Andrew, feeling much more comfortable this time, and then he, and Sean and Sam Weasley did a funny little jig that made her laugh. She also danced once more with Draco but it was nothing compared to their first time. They danced formally with her hand on his shoulder and his on her waist, not moving closer together than eight inches. Though most couples showed no signs of wanting to stop, the twins and friends suggested leaving a little after ten o'clock.

"After all, we do have classes tomorrow," Lizzie said importantly, to which her friendly rolled their eyes.

The walk back to the castle was quick and quiet. No once spoke much. It appeared everyone was worn out from dancing. Hermione did not link hands or arms with Draco once and spent most of the return trip walking between Jamie and Megan. They trooped back up to Gryffindor tower, and Hermione didn't even comment when Jamie entered as well. There was nobody in the common room, as the younger students were in bed and most of the older ones were still at the Three Broomsticks.

Hermione expected the boys and girls to part ways; she was certainly ready for bed. Lizzie and Jamie, however, had another idea in mind.

"Anyone up for a little T or D?" Jamie asked, walking to the fireplace, striking a pose, and adopting a cunning, evil expression. Really, Hermione didn't know how she could be related to Ron. However had poor, sweet Ron who was so bad with women managed to father such a would-be temptress? Hermione felt very sorry for her son. Then again, judging by the longing expression on his face, Dave seemed to be just as dirty-minded as Jamie . . . or, at least, he didn't disapprove.

"What's T or D?"

"Truth or Dare?" Lizzie replied, eyes glinting mischievously. Come to think of it, Hermione felt sorry for James, as well. He, at least, seemed honorable enough. Well. He was Harry's son. And Lizzie was her- oh, no wait, that didn't correspond at all. Hermione didn't know how to, let alone want to, play those kinds of tricks with boys.

"We haven't played in such a long time," Megan said with a regretful sigh.

"And it's much too early to be going to bed," Lizzie said.

"But you said," began Hermione, panicked slightly at the thought of playing Truth or Dare with the future teens and Malfoy. She didn't even want to imagine what kind of truths Lizzie and Jamie could think up, let alone what kind of dares. "You have classes tomorrow!"

"Who cares," said Jamie dismissively. "We can afford to be tired for a day."

"Haven't you ever played Truth or Dare, Mum?" Dave asked, and suddenly he looked mischievous, as well. Honestly, her children were troublemakers!

Draco glanced at her, intrigued. "Well? Have you?"

Hermione tried to retain an impassive face. "Of course."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Once," she admitted.

"With boys?"

"No," Hermione said in a very small voice, thinking of the time she had been goaded into a quick round with Parvati, Lavender, Hannah, Ginny, Luna, and Susan.

"Well, then, you'll have to try it," said Lizzie jubilantly.

"Did I have a choice in the first place?" Hermione muttered, sighing as she sat down on the floor. They formed a circle.

"Lizzie, can I have something to drink?" Jamie asked suddenly. "I'm awfully thirsty after the dance."

"Yeah, me, too. I'll go get water from the dormitory." Lizzie ran upstairs and returned after a minute with the jug. Dave had already conjured eight glasses, which she filled. Hermione did not notice the crystal jar she took from her pocket and poured droplets of into each glass. Hermione looked up from where she had been staring, resigned, at the carpet, and saw Draco's eyes flash in recognition.

"Here we are," Lizzie said brightly, handing around glasses.

"Hermione," Draco began in an urgent whisper. "Don't-"

She took a sip, the water cool and refreshing after their walk back, and waited for him to speak, but he didn't. Draco sighed and leaned back, settling himself once more across the circle from her, between Donna and James. Hermione frowned, perplexed at his odd behavior.

"Does anyone mind if I go first?" Jamie asked.

"As long as you don't pick me," Hermione muttered to herself, taking another sip so no one would see her lips move.

Jamie pretended to consider the matter, tapping a finger against her lips in mock predicament. "Hermione."

Hermione felt the warm glow begin again and firmly squashed it. There was nothing to be embarrassed about- yet. She had absolutely no proof that the questions Jamie and Lizzie were plotting to ask were purposely "evil"- no proof other than her own intuition, that is.

"Truth or Dare?"

"Truth," she said readily, not in the mood to get up and perform a silly trick.

Jamie considered for a moment. "Who is your favorite Slytherin at Hogwarts? In your time period, of course, since in this one it's obviously me . . ."

Hermione was taken aback. If that was supposed to be embarrassing, Jamie was losing her touch. "Draco Malfoy," she said without thought. After all, what else was she supposed to say? He was the only Slytherin she had ever remotely gotten to know so he was the only logical answer- it wasn't like she had a choice to pick from.

Jamie merely nodded. Draco looked mildly surprised. Their eyes met, and Hermione gave a little shrug.

"Lizzie," she said briskly, pushing any idea of picking Draco out of her head. "Truth or Dare."

"Dare," Lizzie said cheekily.

Hermione pondered. She had no idea what a suitable dare would be. There were, of course, silly ones she could do like "stand on your head" but that was by no means an appropriate dare. What was something that even Lizzie would be tempted to refuse?

On the other hand, though, she didn't want to say something that would annoy her because Lizzie would undoubtedly take revenge.

"You're not allowed to kiss, hug, or touch James for the rest of the night," Hermione said finally, her mind still blank.

Lizzie gaped, evidently horror-struck. "What?"

"That's the dare."

"But that's- that's-"

"Really excellent," Dave said enthusiastically, receiving a dirty look from James, who appeared about to protest. "Lizzie'll never be able to follow that one!"

His twin stiffed at his words. "Oh, won't I?" Her nose in the air, she traded spaces with Megan so she was no longer sitting next to James.

"I'm sorry, love," she said regretfully, blowing him a kiss. Lizzie turned back to Hermione, this time with a cunning, impressed smile. "That's good for a second-timer, Mum. But I'll get you back." She winked. Hermione gulped.

"Draco."

He shifted, obviously uncomfortable. "Dare."

Lizzie cocked her head, clearly surprised at his choice. "Hmmm. Wasn't expecting that." She glanced slyly at Hermione again. "Say, Mum, what do you think a good dare would be for Dad?" She leaned over so the answer could be whispered in her ear.

Hermione sighed. "I don't have to help you."

"It's not against the rules," Donna scoffed. "As long as Draco agrees."

"Do you?" Lizzie asked very pointedly.

He gave first her, then Hermione, a cool look. "No."

Hermione felt that uncontrollable urge to blush beginning again. She really did not want to say the obvious dare, but if Draco had agreed-

"Turning him into a ferret," she said in the lowest possible voice, not meeting his eyes. There was a short silence that she dearly hoped her mind was exaggerating. Hermione couldn't help it; she looked up. Draco, who was once again flushed pale pink, was staring at her with an expression resembling hurt, but he glanced away before she could make eye contact.

"And should I do it?" Lizzie wondered contemplatively.

"No," Hermione said instantly, shocked. "That would be horrible!"

Lizzie raised an eyebrow, her Malfoy lineage once again blatant. "Guess not, then. You're lucky Mum cares about your feelings, Dad!" she said cheerfully.

Draco, not quite managing to hide his relief, finally met her gaze. Hermione felt her breath quicken and didn't know why. Her cheeks were still uncomfortably hot, but there wasn't any visible sign of it, at least.

"I dare you to kiss Hermione."

Hermione choked on the sip of water she had been in the middle of drinking. Lizzie was smiling beatifically, as if she'd just pronounced the most wonderful thing in the world. Clearly, it had been her plan all along, and her detour questioning of Hermione had just been another embarrassment tactic. Knowing Lizzie, she had probably already thought of the ferret dare herself.

Draco had paled considerably. "Excuse me?"

"Just a simple kiss," Lizzie said airily, as if it really were just that. "On the lips, though, mind."

Hermione was looking at anything in the room but at him. The fire was letting off such interesting sparks! She had never noticed before what a deep, beautiful orange it could be, much more interesting than any group of teens she happened to be playing a perfectly horrid game with . . .

"She doesn't want me to," Draco said abruptly, quietly.

Lizzie frowned. "That's not the way this works."

"If you don't do the dare, you're out of the game," Megan explained, her lower lip stuck out in a pout. "And it's only the third round."

"Then I'll sit out," Draco said tonelessly, moving back so his face was in shadows. "I said, Granger doesn't want it."

Dave turned to her appealingly. "Just one quick kiss, it's not like it'll hurt you."

Hermione was finding it difficult to breathe. He was willing to sit out so as not to embarrass her further . . . or was it that he didn't want to kiss her and was using this as an excuse?

"Please?" Jamie wheedled.

Hermione gave a quick nod, ducking her head. She peered up under her lashes at Draco. His expression showed only great surprise. He slowly edged back into the light and she saw there was apprehension there, too, and a bit of . . . anticipation?

He slid across the circle on his knees towards her and stopped a foot away. Her breathing had quickened again. She wondered if this were a sign that she were about to faint. At least that would save them both the trouble.

His eyes searched hers one last time, and she gave the barest of nods. He leaned forward and his lips brushed hers. It was a gentle, quick kiss, but suddenly she could feel his incredible closeness to her like at the dance, and this time there wasn't even an inch between them. He tasted faintly of butterbeer, warm and tingling. That must be the reason why her spine was suddenly shivering again, the butterbeer, not his lips. Hopefully.

Draco leaned back and returned to his seat in the circle. He kept his eyes on hers the whole time, but his face was void of reaction. Hermione licked her lips, struggling to decipher her own feelings. Well. That had been interesting. It had certainly been quick like promised. And it really was the barest of kisses . . . it wasn't like it counted or anything. Her first kiss wasn't Malfoy of all people; that was just a- a preliminary, sort of like a pre-kiss so she had an idea of what one was like. Well, she'd always had an idea, but she'd never really experienced one. And, of course, she didn't have anything real to compare it to, but it hadn't been that bad. She wouldn't even have known those lips were Malfoy's if she hadn't been watching his suddenly serious, nervous face coming toward her and knowing exactly what was going to happen . . .

"Hermione."

"What?" The distracting thoughts flew out of her head. "I just went."

Megan gave her a close look. "Dave and I just went."

Hermione flushed. She hadn't realized she'd been thinking about Draco that long. "Right. I knew that."

"Truth or Dare?"

"Truth," she said automatically, unnerved by the dares she'd heard so far, and not willing to find out what other dastardly ones they had up their sleeves.

But suddenly, a horrible idea occurred to her. It seemed to occur to her daughter as well, for her face suddenly lit up in another wicked grin.

"Megan . . ."

Hermione had a very good idea of what question Lizzie would ask: did you like the kiss? And of course the answer was no . . . all right, so maybe she had liked it a teeny bit, but she certainly didn't want to have to tell them that. She didn't want Draco thinking she had in any way whatsoever liked kissing him, even if it had only been for the briefest of seconds.

Megan, however, having a sweeter disposition, gave Lizzie a warning glance and shook her head. She had also, apparently, considered the question and discarded it as too mean. Megan was a nice enough person, Hermione decided, her heartbeat finally returning to normal after her momentary panic. She wouldn't try to convince Neville not to be a father.

"Would you like us to come back to you?" Megan asked kindly. Hermione nodded weakly.

Megan turned to James, and the game continued. A few turns later, however, after James, Donna, and Jamie had gone, it was, inevitably, Hermione's turn again, and this time, it was Jamie once more asking the question.

"Truth or Dare?"

"Dare." Truths didn't sound quite so good anymore. She could always lie, but Hermione didn't like doing that and preferred not to risk it.

Unfortunately, judging by her wicked grin of fiendish glee, this seemed to be exactly what Jamie wanted. "Good. I was hoping you would say that. Unfortunately for you- well, actually I guess more unfortunately for Draco- I'm not as nice as Lizzie is, and I know the perfect dare for you." She let these words sink in. Hermione's stomach filled with foreboding. "You have to turn your dear little husband into a ferret and sit with him on your lap for five minutes."

Hermione's mouth fell open. So did nearly everyone else's in the circle, including Lizzie's. Draco let out a hiss of surprise and recoiled as if someone were already aiming a wand at him.

"No," Hermione said as soon as her initial shock had subsided enough for her to speak. She fought to remain calm, though the beginnings of anger were starting to stir. This was an unfair dare, and Jamie knew it. So did the others. Dave wasn't looking quite as happy with his girlfriend, and Megan and Donna were shooting her dirty looks. From Lizzie's expression, it was clear that though she had thought of it, she would never really have intended to go through with such a thing.

"I will not turn Draco into a ferret." Amazingly, her voice was completely firm, not even trembling at all.

Jamie opened her mouth to argue but caught sight of her friends' faces. She gave a small sigh of disappointment. "It was worth a try." But she honestly looked as if this were unexpected, and frowned, clearly at a loss of what dare to suggest next.

"That means she has to drop out of the game."

Everyone turned to stare at Draco. He sounded unnaturally grim.

"We retracted the dare," Jamie said snappishly, as if it were his fault.

"Although I'll sit out if you want," Hermione said hastily. "I don't think Truth or Dare is really my thing."

"No," Megan and Lizzie protested vehemently at the same time.

"Then that means she has to do it."

Again, there was a moment of silence in which everyone stared, dumbfounded, at Draco, who looked calm and resolute, though rather sick.

"You want me to?" Hermione asked finally, unable to believe what she was hearing.

"No," he snapped. "But that's the whole point of dares. You don't get to pick and choose what you do and don't do."

"We're not in Slytherin," Hermione said gently. She hadn't realized how seriously Draco took this game. "We don't have to play by those rules."

He looked up and met her eyes, his gaze challenging. "I'm not afraid."

There was another silence. Hermione tried to comprehend the idiocy of this and was unable to.

Among all the teenagers, Jamie seemed the only one unfazed. "Oh, good," she exclaimed, positively beaming. "I knew this was a good dare. Are you sure, though, Draco?" she asked, suddenly quite motherly, as if it had been someone else's suggestion in the first place. "No one will think any less of you if-"

"I said it was fine," he snapped. He sounded quite angry yet still determined to go through with it. He had to be the most confusing person Hermione had ever known.

"What if I don't want to do it?" Hermione asked suddenly, still hesitant.

Draco glared at her scornfully. "Why are you complaining? You're not the one being transfigured."

"Well, maybe I don't want to turn you into a ferret!" she practically shouted. "Contrary to what you say, I know you're not 'fine' about it, and I don't want you getting mad at me for it later!"

There was silence. Draco simply looked at her. Hermione flushed angrily.

"Whenever you're ready . . ." Jamie muttered under her breath.

"I'm ready," Draco said stonily. Hermione was shocked. He was practically ignoring what she'd just said. He got up, walked carefully around Megan, and knelt down beside her. Hermione found herself staring once more straight into his grey eyes and he looked calmly back. She searched them for any sign of him fear or hesitation but other than a flicker of nervousness there was nothing there to betray his emotions.

"I don't-" she tried one last time, but fell silent at his furious glare.

Hermione sighed, raised her wand, and said the spell. There was a brief second in which she thought- or rather hoped- that it hadn't worked. Then there was a sound like a POP and he had disappeared. On the floor it front of her was a pure white ferret. For an instant Hermione's mind froze; it was as if it were fourth year again and she was watching in amazement as the fake Mad-Eye Moody turned Draco Malfoy into a ferret and proceeded to humiliate him in front of everyone. Then she shook her head and, hands trembling, picked the ferret off the ground. He was shivering. Hermione lowered him to her lap, still shaking, and stroked his soft fur. Slowly, after a minute of tense shock, the ferret began to relax. She could feel his little claws digging into her jeans.

The others were wide-eyed, staring in shock.

"Dave," Hermione said. Her voice sounded far away, as if another person was speaking.

"Truth."

"Who was the first girl at Hogwarts you fancied?" she asked automatically, still in a dream-like state.

The faint blush that settled on his face at her question was enough to bring her back to her senses.

"Megan," he muttered.

Megan blinked, astonished. "Really!"

Jamie's expression hardened somewhat. "Really," she repeated in quite a different tone.

"But not anymore, obviously," Dave said, still crimson, and there was a chorus of laughter. He slid a reassuring arm around Jamie and she made a grumbling noise but relaxed against him all the same. Megan pretended to raise her eyebrows suggestively, evoking more laughs.

Hermione chuckled weakly. Draco was still trembling under her touch, but not quite so much. She petted his awkwardly, and then, without realizing it, hugged him to her. Though her friends' stares became more pronounced, she did not notice, still preoccupied with the boy-turned-ferret on her lap. Despite what he'd said, Hermione had been right. She could practically sense fear radiating off him, and could only imagine what vivid memories this had brought back.

"I won't bounce you," she whispered, half to herself and partly to him. Hermione lifted him to look at him more closely. His eyes were still a familiar grey, his human eyes. Perhaps Draco heard, for he seemed to stop shivering and curled up tighter. This was nothing compared to how composed and imperious Drake had acted as a ferret in the Pensieve.

"I want to ask Dad a question," Dave said finally, eyeing the ferret. "So we'll just wait, I guess." He checked his watch. "Only three more minutes, anyway."

And so they waited. Hermione loosened her grip cautiously and Draco stood, stretching. He seemed to sniff the air and then climbed awkwardly up her arm. Hermione tried to keep from giggling as he sat perched on her shoulder, clearly ready to follow Drake's example and make the most of his situation by presiding over the group with a regal air. She smiled.

He was awfully cute as a ferret.

"Time's up," Jamie said importantly. Hermione quickly lifted Draco down from her shoulder.

"I'll do it," Lizzie said eagerly.

"Don't," Hermione cried, still holding him, but it was too late.

With another popping noise Draco had turned back into himself, and (Hermione was sure Lizzie had done it on purpose) he was seated in her lap with her gripping his upper arms tightly. Hermione turned bright red. He started, disoriented, and slipped off her knee and onto the floor. They stared at each other, wide-eyed and neither speaking. He didn't ask her to let go, and she only noticed she was still gripping his arms when her fingers started becoming numb.

Hermione released him abruptly, and it was she who shivered this time.

Draco blinked as if a spell had suddenly been broken and shook his head. Without a word he retreated to his former seat. For once, neither Jamie nor Lizzie spoke; they both seemed to be in awe over what he had just done. Hermione took a deep breath, trying to calm her suddenly irate breathing.

"Truth or Dare, Draco," Dave said, and Hermione was amazed to hear his speaking so calmly.

"Truth." There was barely a tremor in Draco's voice, and he spoke, assured and collected, as if nothing had happened.

Dave paused, as if steeling himself for something, then he said abruptly. "Before you came to the future, did you ever have any recent thoughts about sending Mum a letter?"

Hermione felt herself grow cold. She glanced up instinctively. Draco had paled to almost the same extent he had when Jamie had named her dare. Her breath caught in her throat. Why was there such a trapped look on his face? Unless . . .

"Yes," he murmured as quietly as possible.

More stunned looks passed around the circle. Hermione flushed a deep red. So that was it, then. It had already started. Draco had considered sending her the letter that would start their relationship and eventually lead to their marriage. The only way they could prevent this now was if they made sure he never sent a letter. Of course . . . did she really want it to be prevented so badly anymore? Sure, marriage was a whole other issue, but would getting to know Draco a little better really be so terrible? Hermione wasn't so sure anymore, and it frightened her.

There was no more said about it. Dave looked satisfied, as if he had expected the answer but hadn't been quite sure.

To Hermione's surprise, Draco called on her.

"Truth," she replied, not bothering to point out that she had just gone. It was clear now that the whole purpose behind playing Truth or Dare in the first place was to further embarrass her and Draco and try to bring them closer together. The first goal had certainly worked. And she supposed the second had as well; at least in the physical sense.

His eyes bored into hers. Was it her imagination, or did he look a bit apologetic? "What is the Polyjuice Potion incident everyone keeps talking about?"

Hermione gasped, unable to stop herself.

Jamie let out a small 'ooh,' and Dave stifled a chuckle.

"Nice, Dad," Lizzie said admiringly.

"That's- that's not," Hermione said faintly, but to her horror, she could feel the explanation already developing in her mind, and the next second-

"We made one in the girls' bathroom in second year," she said in a rush, blushing and avoiding his eyes, which were widening in shock. "Harry, Ron, and I; Harry and Ron turned into Goyle and Crabbe and snuck into the Slytherin common room to spy on you."

There was a heart-wrenching beat of silence.

"Me?" Draco clarified as if he weren't sure he were hearing correctly, his voice suddenly hoarse and dry.

She nodded. "We thought you might be the Heir of Slytherin, and it was you who was attacking students and . . ." Her voice trailed off, and she couldn't speak. It felt as if an enormous plug had been pulled from inside her; it was as if some part of her had known, since the moment Draco had heard the phrase "Polyjuice Potion," that he would inevitably find out sometime before they got home. After an agonizing minute she looked up and found hurt, angry grey eyes staring back at her.

Slowly, painfully, she explained the whole story.

"Why didn't you come?" Draco asked when she was done. Hermione froze, and she could only imagine the deathly pallor of her skin. That was the only detail she had left out, and she would not answer that question. She would not- But there was a funny feeling in her throat, and it suddenly didn't seem like hers. An urge to speak drove her mouth to open, and with a sickening jolt of realization, Hermione understood the terrible truth- or, more accurately, why she was telling the truth.

"I accidentally took Millicent Bullstrode's cat's hair," she said in the quietest voice possible, but it still sounded unbearably loud to her ears, and it seemed as if her words echoed around the empty common room.

Hermione took a deep, shaking breath, a numb feeling of anger steeling over her heart as she continued speaking in dull tones. "I turned into a cat- or, at least, part of the way." She shuddered. "Harry and Ron went without me, and I spent the next month in the hospital wing." Her heartbeat slowed to its normal, even pace. She licked her lips. No words were desperate to be spoken. The truth had been told.

For she had suddenly understood that someone- Lizzie, undoubtedly, since it had been she who passed out the drinks- had put Veritaserum or some other Truth Potion in their drinks. It was probably the former, though, Hermione thought bitterly. After all, according to what she had learned in the Pensieve, it wasn't a rare commodity in the Malfoy family, nor did Slytherins, or those connected so closely with them, hesitate in using it for a simple game of Truth or Dare. She looked down at her almost empty water glass, a dull, aching feeling starting to settle within her, and then up at Malfoy. She had expected a glare, for his eyes to be filled with loathing again, as they had been a moment ago; but they were not. Something in his face flickered. It looked almost like pity. Hermione suddenly realized her vision was brighter than normal, and her cheeks were cold. Something wet trickled down to her chin. Hermione angrily wiped away tears and looked away, mad at them all.

They had all known there was Veritaserum in the water; even if he hadn't been explicitly told, Draco would've guessed. He had admitted to using it himself at school, and the twins had probably learned it from him. Hermione didn't know why she hadn't suspected anything. And she didn't know why she had begun to trust Malfoy. Why hadn't he warned her there was a Truth Serum in the water? They had been getting on fairly well all evening, there was no reason for him to have been mad at her and purposely not tell her.

She stood, ignoring the exclamations of surprise and worry, and began walking away. Malfoy had known about the Veritaserum, and he had still asked to know a secret he knew she didn't want being told. And now she had revealed one of her most embarrassing secrets. She was surprised he hadn't already burst out laughing.

Hermione tried to hold back tears, but several more slid down her cheeks. He had betrayed her, and so had the others. This night was one big mess-up; in fact, this whole weekend was turning out to be terrible. Not only that, it was tiring, and overwhelming, and Hermione was thoroughly ready to go home. She climbed the stairs to the girls' dormitories, still ignoring Lizzie's calls. It was time to leave the future and go back to the present where they belonged. No more pretending to get along with Malfoy or condoning the use of the word "husband" in relation to him. That was over. She would tell Mia and Drake in the morning that she was sincerely sorry, but it wasn't going to work out. As for the twins, it wouldn't be an altogether terrible loss not to speak to them again, and if she never spoke to Draco it might even be a good thing.

When she heard the door open and the girls come in, asking her nervously if she were all right, Hermione mechanically stood and walked past them through the door and back down the stairs. James and Dave had gone to the boys' dormitory, but the last person she wanted to see was still in the common room.

He was standing by the fire but turned at her footsteps. His hard expression softened when he saw her. "It's you."

"Go away," Hermione spat angrily, turning to leave but not sure where to go. It was now very late at night, and everyone had arrived home from the dance while they were playing that horrid game. She couldn't go wandering the corridors after hours, but neither did she want to return to the dormitory or stay here with Malfoy. Perhaps he would leave if she ignored him.

"I'm not going. Hermione, don't cry." He took a tentative step forward and raised a hand as if to touch her face. Hermione drew back, glaring.

"Why didn't you tell me Lizzie put Veritaserum in the water?" Hermione cried, unable to restrain herself any longer.

Draco looked startled. "Is that what this is about?"

"Yes!" she choked. "You knew, and you didn't warn me. I could have been asked anything!"

To her indignant shock, he looked angry at her accusation. "I tried to warn you, Hermione! Remember at the start of the game when I said 'Don't,' but you had already taken a sip?"

Hermione was about to retort when she recalled, unmistakably, the exact scene he had described. He had tried to warn her right before they started but she, not realizing that what he was mentioning had anything to do with the water, took a sip while waiting for him to speak.

Draco was breathing heavily, waiting for a response. The shadows on his face from the fire made him look even angrier.

"Fine," said Hermione as indifferently as she could muster. "But you still could have told me! Then I wouldn't have played the game."

"Does it really matter?" Draco snapped. "I don't recall you saying anything too embarrassing that you wouldn't have said under normal circumstances." He paused, continuing with difficulty. "At least, I assume I'm really your favorite Slytherin."

"Of course you are," Hermione snapped. "I took a Truth Potion, didn't I?" Her anger stirred again. "And if you knew about the Veritaserum, why did you ask about the Polyjuice Potion?"

"I was curious," Draco said bitterly. "Can you blame me for that?" Hermione dearly wished to say that yes, she could, but refrained.

"And besides, I'm the one who should be mad about that. You spied on me!"

"Excuse us for thinking you disliked muggleborns enough to set a basilisk on them. I don't know where we would've gotten that impression," Hermione snarled.

"Well, obviously you had a pretty bad opinion of me if you thought I was attacking people!"

"You hated me!"

There was a long pause. Hermione hadn't realized how close Draco had moved until they were only two feet apart.

"I don't hate you," he said in soft, dangerous tones. "And I'm trying not to be mad about your silly Polyjuice Potion. I'm trying to think of it as flattering that you thought I was the Heir of Slytherin."

"But you asked me about- about-." Hermione choked on her words. Tears were beginning to trickle down her cheeks again. She was too tired!

"The cat part," she whispered finally. "I never tell people that, because it's too embarrassing." She looked up at his face and realized she was not so much angry as deeply hurt. "You knew it was a secret, and yet you still asked.

"I didn't know about the cat part," Draco said, trying to keep his voice steady. Hermione blinked. Perhaps it was the tears, but there was an uncomfortable, guilty look on his face, as if he were telling the truth. "I asked the question automatically, forgetting that if it was an embarrassing secret you would have to tell it anyway."

There was silence. Hermione struggled to decide whether or not this was the truth. He sounded honest, as if he really felt bad about it, and it was entirely possible the Veritaserum was still in effect.

"Well, then," she said faintly. "I suppose you're going to laugh."

"Don't be silly. In case you've forgotten, I think I would know best what it's like to be transfigured against your will," he said very quietly, and Hermione flushed, trying and failing to blink back tears.

"You're still crying," he observed. "And I don't have a handkerchief with me."

Part of her still wanted to be mad at him. She was still angry about the Veritaserum and upset with Draco for asking about the Polyjuice Potion, but another part of her was limp with relief that he hadn't done it on purpose to spite her.

Slowly, Draco reached out, and before she could protest he had enveloped her with his arms and was murmuring soothing sentiments in her ear. Hermione struggled vehemently, but he wouldn't let go, holding her tight. She tried to take deep breaths but found it very hard jammed against his chest. Several minutes passed, but it was impossible to tell how many. Draco held her locked in his arms with no sign of letting go.

"This could be considered harassment," she said, her tones muffled by his chest.

Much to her chagrin, she heard him give a little chuckle and squeeze her tighter. "We're married; husbands are allowed to hug their wives, aren't they?"

"Not if they're crushing them to death in the process," Hermione said irritably. But she was relaxing all the same, leaning against him in welcomed defeat.

And after another moment, still relentlessly gripping her to him, Draco led her to an armchair and sat on it, pulling her beside him.

"Just calm down," he ordered, trying to sound irritable and failing.

Hermione sniffed into his shoulder, hitting his arm feebly to make him let her go; it wasn't working.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. The next second one of his hands had tentatively brushed against her hair and was smoothing it awkwardly.

"You're allowed to tease me, now," he said gently. "You have been turned into a small animal and humili- ok, well, not really, but we'll pretend you have." Hermione couldn't help but smile, and she realized to mixed horror and thrilled delight that being buried in his chest had had a calming effect on her.

Finally, he loosed his grip on her. Slowly, still perched on his lap from where he lay haphazardly on the chair, she drew back, and looked into his eyes.

"I can't believe you did that during Truth or Dare," she said quietly. Draco's solemn features showed he understood that she was referring to him turning into a ferret. "It was really brave."

"I don't believing in turning down dares as long as they're not harmful."

Hermione paused. "You weren't going to do the first one . . ."

"I thought you didn't want me to," said Draco simply. He reached up and with a delicate fingertip, wiped a lingering tear off her cheek. "Would you rather I hadn't?"

"No," Hermione replied quietly, and with complete honesty. And even if she hadn't taken the Veritaserum, she was sure she would've admitted the same answer.

They stared into each other's eyes. The flickering firelight danced on Draco's face. Hermione was very warm all over, though she didn't think it was due to the fire . . .

He leaned forward hesitantly and slid a cautious arm around her back. Hermione instinctively leaned toward him. Their lips met, and he kissed her for the second time that night.

Draco was just as sweet and warm, but this was not the fleeting, gentle brush of before. His other arm slipped around her back to hug her to him, and she held his face in one hand, her other on his chest. His lips were so soft, and she felt as though she were melting in his arms. It was her first real kiss, and, as expected, quite unlike anything she'd ever experienced.

Hermione knew one thing for sure, though: it was wonderful.

Finally Draco drew away, looking very confused. Hermione's tears had all but evaporated, and she was feeling suddenly drowsy and contented, as if she'd just drunken a bottle of butterbeer. They stared at each nervously, neither speaking.

"Good night," Hermione said softly, after what seemed like ages. She couldn't tell whether it had been a minute or five in between the end of their kiss and her parting words. She stood, still maintaining eye contact. Their fingers, which had somehow managed to intertwine during their kiss, parted. Hermione, shaking slightly and utterly bewildered, walked as though in a trance to the stairs.

"Good night," Draco replied, and she was relieved to hear he sounded just as paralyzed by shock.

Hermione slipped up the stairs as quietly as she could, and her fingers went to her lips as soon as he was out of sight. They were still tingling. She shivered, and another ache of tiredness swept through her. Thankfully, all the other girls in the dormitory were already asleep.

She climbed into bed after quickly changing into a nightdress. Despite her fatigue, it took a good half hour to fall asleep, so jumbled and confused were her emotions and thoughts.

And when her eyes finally did close for the night, Hermione was still picturing the kiss in her mind and thinking of Draco.