fervere

Chapter Thirty

There wasn’t a soul out in the dark emerald common room. 

Luck would have it that the majority of Slytherins had gone to their own rooms rather early; either for their own private time or to avoid having to face the slight shame of being alone on a holiday such as Valentine's. Whatever the reason that allowed the pair to move in secret, Draco couldn’t imagine what it would look like to be dragging Hermione into his room on a night like this. A rather scaling account of him bringing someone that wasn’t Millie would ignite the bomb of the rumor mills of Hogwarts.

It was that zips of flaming heat that tingled up his arm that had Hermione's hand clutched tightly in his own. Draco's heart beat rung in his ear, his eyes wide with panic to get out of sight as quickly as possible..

The unrecognizable stillness was something that both Draco and Hermione were incredibly thankful for as they quickly ran through to reach the safety of his room. 

Hermione hunched into herself as Draco guided her towards the boy’s wing, looking over his shoulder constantly to make sure they hadn’t been spotted. 

But once again, the silence had reassured them that they were fine.

He ushered Hermione into his room, placing his hand on the small of her back. He followed in, poking his head back out to the hallways to make sure there was truly no one out to hold this interesting piece of information over his head.  

It wasn't until they had caught their breath, and the clarity began to set in, when Draco realized something rather odd. For an early night, Slytherin was suspiciously abandoned.

Hermione let out a final deep sigh, "We're rather fortunate, don't you think?"

Draco didn't verbally respond. He did, however, knitted his brows together in question, begging her to explain. 

Hermione had gently patted her cheeks with the back of her hand before fanning herself, cooling off her face from the running and adrenaline still pumping through her veins.

"Oh please," Hermione rolled her eyes, "Don't think I need to pull out the map to see who is coupled up in the dorms."

Draco slowly nodded, hoping the information will click just as soon as his breathing steadied. He plopped onto his bed while Hermione unfolded the map she pulled out of her coat. Her brown eyes scanned over the print, zeroing in on names. 

"Ron and Daphne are in the Prefect's Bathroom?" Hermione cocked her head, "It's going to be nearly impossible for them to get back to either house undetected."

Draco snorted. 

"I doubt they'd want to," Draco winked, causing Hermione's eyes to widen.

"What on earth will they do all night there?" She blurted out. 

"Granger," Draco's head lulled lazily to the side, "Please. You don't strike me as innocent."

Hermione's jaw tensed up and her nose pointed a millimeter up.

Draco immediately understood his blunder. 

"What I meant is that y-you are beyond intelligent to understand the whims and ways of hormonal teenagers," Draco winced at Hermione's narrowing glare, "I don't hold a heavy interest in your personal life to care or know."

Lie. 

"But I'm surprised that you're suprised," Draco cleared his throat, "Ron and Daph have been the most serious couple, don't you think? It'd be odd if they haven't... explored or..."

Draco pressed his lip closed, nothing wanting to talk about someone's physical relationship.

Hermione was still standing awkwardly in the middle of his room, glancing nervously at the map as if she was trying her best to look distracted. At least her shoulders weren't tensed up, Draco thought.

She cleared her throat, "Who's room is next to yours?"

Draco laid down on his bed, silently scolding himself.

"Ummm," He gulped, "Nott to the left and Zabini on the right."

Hermione let out a breathless oh, which only pulled at the strings of Draco's intrigue. 

"Oh?" Draco repeated a brow hitched up in interest. 

Hermione held in a smile shouldering off her coat and slipping off her boots.

"Harry won't like this much at all," Hermione sighed, flipping the map over to Draco so he could take a peek. He saw the names of Theodore Nott and Ginny Weasley floating around. Zabini was not in his room, instead it seem like a lot of people were holed up at the opposite end of the girl's wing. A party. 

Still Draco didn't understand. He scrunched his nose in disgust that Ginny was only a room away, doing Merlin-knows-what. 

"What would Harry care?" Draco asked stupidly.

Hermione sighed, throwing herself on her stomach on Draco's bed, her feet kicking happily in midair.

"I thought you and your cunning mind would have figured it out by now," Hermione snorted. The only thing Draco that was crossing his mind was how happy he was that the silencing charms being used all over Slytherin was saving him a lot of grief, swallowing any sound that would otherwise freely float down the hallways of their dorm wings.

Draco studied Hermione, plopping back to his bed on his side, propping himself up to look over her shoulder. Draco initially thought she was entertaining herself seeing all the couples in their dorms but it only took a moment to figure out her eyes were trained on two figures circling around the corridors. 

Umbridge and Filch.

She huffed, her shoulders slumping as she idly looked at the map to look busy planning out her next opportunity to sneak out back to her own dorm.  

Seeing Hermione in his bead was peaceful reminder that this was something he had sorely missed from their shared summer that felt like ages ago. Upon recalling the late hours they spent chatting and studying together, watching TV and listening to music, he smiled, truly cherishing from the girl who had dominion over his entire heart.  

Witnessing her now, face lost and empty with her own heart torn to pieces, there was no better moment to question her now. 

“So,” Draco began, chewing on his lip nervously, "Krum.”

Hermione’s feet stopped kicking, her back stiffened visibly before she slowly turned her head towards him. 

Hermione winced, disappointed that Draco hadn’t been distracted enough to forget why her eyes were still rimmed with red, and gave him a fairly pathetic look that he found endearing. She rolled over and sat back up, pausing for a moment before she accepted that she was going to have to speak on it considering she was trapped her until further notice.

With her head cocked to the side and her brows furrowed in worry, it made her look picturesque, Draco thought. Like a tragic Greek painting.  

“What happened? Really.” Draco gently begged, picking at his nails nonchalantly.

“It’s stupid,” Hermione repeated her voice returning to that confidence he admired, more in control of her feelings. There was, however, still a sliver of pain lingering in her brown glistening eyes. Draco gulped while her fingers traced the lines of the map lightly following a rather militant Filch guarding the first floor. 

“Then it shouldn’t be hard to say it, right?” Draco frowned, wanting to reach out and caress her cheek to nudge her in his direction, so she could look straight at him. He stayed put on his side, balling his hands into a fist to stop himself from doing anything stupid.

Hermione paused as she gathered the courage to tell him.  

“He...” Hermione frowned at the volume of her voice, losing that confidence, “He just never showed.” 

Hermione’s chin began to quiver and Draco felt guilty for forcing her rehash the very thing that harmed her. He quickly abandoned his will to stay put and sat up, joining Hermione at the edge of his bed. Two fat tears dropped on the old parchment. Without thinking, he threw a comforting arm around Hermione, rubbing her arm lightly to soothe her, hoping she’d allow herself to feel whatever bubbles out of her.  

Was it crossing the line? Perhaps. But it was better than what he actually wanted to do. 

“Viktor stood me up,” Hermione wiped her eyes again as a fresh new wave of tears glassed over her eyes. Draco was tempted to swipe at her cheeks with his thumb but knew that would be too much. Her head lightly bumped into his shoulder, in defeat but her voice was now more steady as she continued. Hermione was strong.

“It makes it worse to know that he is in London at the moment. He’s being called in for questioning at the Ministry in two days time and he still didn’t show.” 

Draco froze. Hermione sniffed, pulling away and inch or two to face him.

“He’s being questioned about the disappearance of Karkaroff.” Hermione shrugged, noting Draco’s blank reaction. Hermione cleared her throat, and shifted around uncomfortably when it sunk in that Draco's face was only inches away from hers. And then the fact that she was leaned against him, with his arms slung around her. Hermione's breathe hitched and she stood up abruptly to pace around, nervously.

“Didn’t you know he fled? Even the Daily Prophet reported on it.” Hermione gulped, confused with the warmth rushing to her face, wondering why she hadn't minded his touch at all. What was she thinking?

Draco blinked, trying to recall any mention of Karkaroff, Viktor Krum's aid during the Triwizard Tournament. A flash of Cedric Diggory came into Draco’s view and he quickly abandoned his search around the subject.  

“Surprisingly,” Draco began, oblivious to the nervous girl in front of him, “No. I haven’t. Not even from my parents.” 

Hermione sniffed, “Well. Doesn’t matter. Viktor should have been here. Or he should have at least sent an owl if something was holding him back. I could have been doing more productive things than waiting for him out in cold.”  

As much as Draco’s heart ached for her, he couldn’t help himself from an incoming smirk. 

“Productive things?” He questioned quite seriously, “Like making that threesome a fours-” 

“Shut up!” Hermione whined, unfortunately failing to make her mile wide smile into a scowl, “You’re just as insufferable as Ron and Harry, you know that?” 

“As long as I’m better at getting under your skin than they are,” Draco grinned to himself, “That’s all I need to know.” 

Hermione folded the map up and sighed, staring up to take in his room. Her eyes went straight to her favorite feature which was the tall windows and the way the eerie glow of the great lake bathed his entire room. She then studied the rather extravagant walls of his dorm, lined with a rather intricate twisting of vines and serpents, then she settled back to Draco who had been staring at her intently.  

Her breath hitched in her throat, suddenly wanting to sit next to him and have his protective arm around her and the way it didn’t feel as wrong as it should be.

Like it was as familiar as Ron or Harry’s hugs, but different.

There was something in the way he held her that Hermione wish it was more secure, closer, warmer... 

More intimate.  

Hermione, horrified and confused with why she wanted Draco to hold her like he did when he found her crying, tore her eyes away from the pure grey eyes which she hadn’t realized she was getting lost in. She panicked and looked around his room again hoping to find something to talk about. She targeted his organized desk first. 

“Any favorites you have in the newest issue of Wand Whisperers?” She blurted.

Draco inwardly groaned but was still rather amused, “Shut it, Granger.” 

“Heard Miss February is quite the ample charmer,” Hermione sniffed and let out a devilish look. Draco rubbed his face vigorously, groaning as if he was mildly embarrassed but mostly amused with her. Only Hermione would be able to match his level of teasing.

Draco let out a long sigh, “I wouldn’t know. I was serious about those copies being Goyle’s.” 

Hermione’s brows rose just as amused as he had been seconds ago, “Wasn’t the original claim that you only read the articles, Malfoy?” 

Draco remained speechless and Hermione had broken off the weird trance she had been under a few seconds ago. 

“Shame,” Hermione feigned a pouty frown, “Miss Gemma Wunderlust was quite enticing on the cover this month... I heard. She is your favorite, isn't she?” 

Hermione yelped and jumped away from Draco's reach who was about to throw his arms around her. The thought of Draco hoisting her up and playful tossing her to his bed burned at Hermione's cheeks that were painfully holding up a grin from laughing at Draco's attempts. 

They were not at all threatening but a tiny fiber of Hermione wished it was. Before Draco had the chance to respond to Hermione's ridiculous accusations, she wheeled around to examine every inch of his room, opening his book notes, casually looking at photos, including one of her he had took from Umbridge’s list he pinned on his wall.  

He would have been a nervous mess having to explain to Hermione why her photo was on his wall but so was all of Umbridge’s list.

He wasn’t stupid enough to solely have Hermione’s picture up alone when Millie had frequented his room. Most of his pinboard was filled with Umbridge nonsense that he now hardly took her seriously in her ranting delusions during their Inquisitorial Squad meetings. 

“Been taking notes on us?” Hermione coyly looked over her shoulder at Draco who was fumbling with his coat hanger to put his coat away. Once hung in his wardrobe, he stuck his hand in the pocket of his coat to wrestle out his present from Millie. With gentle shake, he slipped the photo frame of the Prefects out of his pocket.  

The group of Prefects were all in different stages of sprawling on the ground in the frame. Some were clutching their head. Some were throwing obscene gestures at Draco but he had his eyes set on another detail much more damning and amusing. 

Photo Draco was holding on to photo Hermione, helping her up from the violent attack. Photo Hermione looked like the very definition of a damsel in distress, clutching on to Draco’s arms while he lovingly gazed upon her in the photo. Draco placed the frame on his desk. 

He turned to his real Hermione who was still engrossed at the small collections of books he had.

He shrugged to answer Hermione's question.

“I thought it would be useful to have a paper trail of notes from her Inquisitorial Squad meetings to hand over to you lot,” Draco muttered, “But it’s getting harder to follow Umbrdige’s train of thought. Most of it is useless as you can see. The raging lunatic.” 

Hermione hummed out a response, moving her eyes up to the bookshelf, her eyes fixated on a vial that sat right at her line of vision. She let out a giggle reaching for it. 

“Euphoric Elixir?” Hermione looked over her shoulder at Draco, she held up the bottle up to show Draco, the label red. 

“What your plan for this?” She teased and suddenly Draco’s face fell. Hermione's face feigned shock as she gasped, “Don’t tell me this was for tonight. Didn't think you'd need the liquid courage considering how much time she spends in here.”  

Draco felt a startled jolt shock his memory. He rushed to Hermione’s side in horror. Hadn’t he taken this elixir to his date? He had asked Ron to toss him the... 

Draco blinked into his memories the fact that the vial he had taken out during his date was not this color. They were, in fact, not that similar in color but, in his dim room, Draco could see how Ron could have reached for the Seditiverum. 

Draco’s face screwed up in realization that he must have taken the wrong vial instead but the mystery remained how it had disappeared from the table, that is until Draco remembered that Millie was in the Hospital Wing under the guise that she is one that can’t handle her drink very well. 

Draco could only assume with great certainty that Millie had taken the Seditiverum he initially thought was the Euphoric Elixir. Hermione glanced at Draco’s face for a split moment before doing a double take.  

“Is there something wrong?” She asked.  

Draco gulped, “I- no...” 

There was a pang of guilt for ruining Millie’s Valentine’s Day but that would have also meant he would have end up drinking the wrong vial, which meant that either way, Millie’s date would have been ruined.  

And Draco would have missed the opportunity to be there for Hermione. He would have heard all of this from some other source, through the whispers of gossip, and Draco would never have the courage to outright ask her about Krum when she knew everyone else had been speaking about her. 

Nevertheless, Draco was glad he had this moment with her. He wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip from him to let Hermione know what he thought of her. 

“You know you deserve better,” Draco muttered out, staring at the elixir, realizing that he was speaking to both girls on his mind.  

Hermione’s face screwed up but she didn’t cry. It was as if she didn’t want to admit that she felt like agreeing with him.  

“But he’s my first relationship,” She licked her lips, “Fights happen, right? Misunderstandings? You and Millie argue all the time, don’t you?” 

He couldn’t respond because it was publicly known how much Draco had to endure to win back Millie’s favor.  

“Yes but-” 

“Then maybe I should, I don’t know, write him another letter.” Hermione shook her head.  

“For what?” Draco sighed.  

“To tell him about this! Maybe he forgot what day it was! Maybe with this whole Ministry inquiry, he’s nervous and all jumbled up.” Hermione explained, she walked around him to sit on his bed again, rubbing her shoulders to soothe herself, “Don’t you think he at least deserves the chance to explain himself?” 

Draco felt himself frown, torn to see Hermione make excuses for him and give him chances he did not earn. He sat on the edge of his desk and stared at her, crossing his arms at her in concern. Broken in silence at how much she liked Krum. It was a similar desperation Millie had when she still took him back, admitting that despite how much she hated being forgotten over the winter break, she still recognized how much she liked him.  

Despite how cruel Draco and Krum had been, their partners were willing to forgive or excuse their dishonorable actions.  

Hermione read his conflicted face.  

“You think I’m stupid.” Hermione chewed on her lip.  

Draco shook his head slowly, “No.” 

She pursed her lips and took a deep breath, “Then why...” 

She paused. 

“Why do I feel like fool?” She turned her gaze back up at him and it struck Draco in such a way that not only did he feel broken but he felt just as foolish as her.  

Acknowledging how much his heart pined for her, wishing it was him that she was in such a state for, Draco nearly was brought to his knees when he saw her so broken. 

If there was a spell to siphon all her hurt so that he could bare it, Draco would cast it. He would gladly carry her afflictions so she wouldn’t waste another second feeling its torment.  

It was her eyes again looking at him like she was searching for something in the details of his face. Draco shied away, almost embarrassed at the lengths he’d go for a mere friend. 

“I’d never think that of you,” Draco reassured, lost in his own thoughts, “You are anything but a fool. But I understand. Love is the most irrational rational thing, isn’t it? Makes you justify things we normally wouldn’t.” 

“Right,” Hermione sniffed, opening her mouth, wanting to say more but couldn’t. 

“But just because we do things out of the ordinary, doesn’t make it wrong or right.” Draco continued, “It simply something new we haven’t experienced. We shouldn’t fault ourselves for not knowing. Relationships aren’t always innate. Perhaps love is. And maybe that’s why it's so confusing.” 

Hermione gulped and nodded at the same time. She sniffed.  

“Look at you Draco,” She let out a dry laugh at her pathetic state, “Who would have thought that you, out of anyone, would be giving me advice? And on Love, of all things.” 

Draco shook his head at the absurdity of all. He wasn’t even sure he had made any sense. Nevertheless, he sensed the bit of teasing in Hermione’s tone and Draco was back on his defense. 

“Who would have thought you’d let me within ten feet of your?” Draco muttered, “And look at you now, in my room.” 

Hermione wiped her raw cheeks and rolled her eyes.  

“So,” She began slowly, “What should I do?” 

Draco paused looking around. His eyes landed on the few June B. Jones books he thought Hermione would find entertaining, despite it being based on what felt like dangerous hogwash. There was a few labeled illustrations he bookmarked a while ago that Draco thought Hermione would find interesting.  

“I think I have a few books you haven’t read,” Draco listed off, scratching his neck thinking of other things to help Hermione cheer up and get her mind off Krum, “I got a small planetarium orb for Christmas if you’d like to see. Oh, I have a deck for exploding snaps, a few cards are missing, if that’s alright. I was going to go over some quidditch plays to run drills with the team. I got a Quidditch model, gift from Dad. It's pretty cool. There’s these gemstones you can charm and it helps you visualize a play instead of seeing it in a book. Let me find it. Should be in my wardrobe.” 

Draco winced but jumped into action anyways. Hermione let out a dry laugh watching Draco scrambling around his room. He had been so concerned on distracting Hermione; Draco had completely missed the intention in Hermione’s question. She almost found it endearing that Draco was throwing out so many suggestions like a lonely child hoping their play date would stay a second longer, if only they picked out the best toy to share. 

Hermione didn’t want to crush his spirits but she had to be honest. 

“No,” She sighed out, “Not that.” 

Draco’s face fell, just as he had turned to her, the Quidditch model in his hands. Draco gulped feeling stupid and like his suggestions were completely inadequate. Of course she didn’t want to do anything. She needed something of substance.

“Are you hungry?” He piped up, “You must be since you didn’t...” 

Hermione’s openly gawked at him and Draco wanted to crawl out of his skin for bringing up Krum, almost. 

“No, Draco, I didn’t mean-” She breathed out, “But, yes, actually. Now that I think of it, I am a bit hungry.” 

Draco’s smile returned on his face and Hermione couldn’t help but to feel guilty for putting him through so much trouble.  

It only took a bit of bribing from the house elves to bring a tray of food into his dorm. Hermione hadn’t been too impressed with Draco ordering the elves for such a late request but she also seemed to enjoy the rolls of sweet buttered bread she got a second later.

She tried to offer Draco some food but he declined, reminding her he actually had a dinner. Hermione frowned, nearly pouting, but didn’t look distraught. 

Eventually she clarified that she had been seeking a more solid answer to figure out what to do with Krum, making Draco feel pretty stupid when he realized that what she meant of 'what should she do'. 

“Oh, I- I thought you said ‘what should we do’.” Draco admitted pitifully casting his sight down to his feet, missing the way Hermione’s face softened.  

She watched him closely feeling quite grateful for her friend, who was now going through his wardrobe again. He pulled out a rather large book for him to read allowing Hermione to peacefully finish her late meal. She sat at his desk, fork and knife in hand, glancing at Draco every so often as he settled into the comfort of his bed.  

He let out a long sigh, his face stoic as his grey eyes dart over the contents of the spread of the book. 

“You know, maybe I was a bit emotional because I was hungry,” Hermione admitted, finishing the last bite of baked potatoes. She still had a creamy chicken to dig into but she felt prematurely full if she was honest. Draco nodded, acknowledging her while he silently continued to flip through a Quidditch Playbook he needed to study for their next final game. Triangles and circles moved across the pages demonstrating a fairly complex play that allowed them a double score, possibly even a triple score if executed correctly.  

He followed the trio of chasers around the two pages as they performed a rather basic but tried and true play. 

“Wos’tha?” She asked chewing on an orange slice, pointing at his book

Draco’s eyes flickered up to her idly for a second before returning to his book. Hermione gulped, wondering why suddenly she felt a jolt in her. It wasn’t that he was suddenly off-putting and cold towards her. It was the fact that his neutral state was a sharp and severe looking expression that she completely forgot about.  

Hermione remember dreading having to bump into Draco in their younger years with that same god-awful expression that didn’t seem so terrible anymore. In fact, there was a need to stare that she couldn't exactly fulfill unless she wanted Draco to notice and tease her for it. 

It was weird how nonchalant he was, glancing at Hermione like she was a piece of furniture all the while she was struggling to even identify what she was feeling.  

“Eat,” He ordered, eyes glued to his book, “You’ve been poking at that chicken with a glazed look on your face.” 

Hermione paused.  

Had he noticed? How could he when his attention was on his book? 

Draco sighed, “If I tell you what I'm reading, will you take a bite already?” 

Hermione quickly forked in a ripped off chunk of chicken. She chewed it eagerly and Draco smirked.  

Draco lingered on her face before sighing, bringing attention back on his book, “Quidditch Playbook. Need to figure out if we can use something in this to use in our next game.” 

“Slytherin's in the final, right?” Hermione asked, “For the Quidditch Cup.” 

Draco nodded while Hermione took another bite, despite feeling the lack of appetite now. She did try to finish as much as possible before she dared to crawl herself next to, leaning against soft plush pillows much more lux than the ones in her dorm. 

“You know Gryffindor has a good chance making it to the final game too if we win against Ravenclaw at the end of this month.” Hermione pointed out, smiling proudly, seemingly much more at ease than she was before.  

Draco hummed out in affirmation that he listened to her, but his attention was on the playbook. Being the curious girl she was, Hermione peered over his arm, taking a peek of his playbook by leaning over to get a better look. Hermione observed Draco more than she did the book.  

Draco began to tense up, sensing the shift of weight on his mattress.

Hermione had the scent of oranges lingering on her. Draco tried to block her with his shoulder when her head was far too close to his. 

“Oh come on!” She laughed, “What’s the point of hiding it from me? I hardly think a muggle born like me poses a threat to your plays. I don’t even know what’s going on half the time.” 

“You’re a clever witch, who's to say you couldn’t figure it out if you truly set your mind to it,” Draco pouted, leaning away as he turned the page.  

“Then you’re in luck since I genuinely don’t have an invested interest in it- oh! Stop being so childish!” Hermione scoffed, when Draco shuffled a full two feet away from her, “Let’s have a look!” 

“No!” Draco sternly replied, now slamming the book shut when she crawled over to him. Hermione found this all too entertaining, folding her legs under her. 

“Draco!” She gasped when her failed attempt to snatch the comically large book from his hand. Draco stuck his nose up and began to get up from his bed when a body lunged at him, attempting to pry the book from his hands. Draco could have easily snatched the book away but Hermione was giving it all her might and Draco had to give her credit for trying. 

Instead, what actually happened was that Draco allowed himself to be dragged back into his bed and after rolling around in a light scuffle, Hermione managed to take it from him.  

Hermione stuck her tongue out while Draco tried his best to compose himself, flatting his hair and clothes down.  

Draco could have fought harder to hang on to his book but he thought more rolling around in his bed would have been very damaging to his useless imaginative head.  

As expected, Hermione flipped through the book mindlessly. She settled back down on her side of his bed and lingering on a page for a few seconds before moving on. Draco sat next to her, grumpy as ever, watching her profile from the corner of his eye.  

He also spotted the very alarming time on his clock on his desk beyond her.  

12:06 A.M. 

Draco yawned crossing his arms to comfort himself.  

Hermione seemed as tired as he was. 

“You think Krum studied plays like these?” 

“No,” Draco bluntly said, “He doesn’t have to, he’s a seeker. They have their own plays and techniques. Plus, pro leagues have way better playbooks than mine.” 

“Oh.” Hermione yawned, “But you’re a seeker too, aren’t you? Why bother with team plays if you have your own?” 

“I help Montague out with ideas,” Draco closed his eyes for a moment, feeling very comfortable against his mountain of pillows. He let out a very obvious grunt, signaling how satisfied his body was melting into his bed. He wanted to fight it but it felt very nice just letting himself drift, his breathing slower and softer. Hermione felt the pull of a smile.

“Don’t forgive him,” Draco blurt out, eyes still closed, “Give Krum hell for forgetting.” 

He heard Hermione snorted, hesitating to reply.  

“He has the money and connections,” Draco continued mumbling, “If he wanted to, he would have made something work.” 

“I know,” Hermione quietly said.  

Draco let out a long sigh, “You should have the last word on this matter. Tell him how upset you are if your write the letter. Who knows, the meathead was probably too dumb, didn’t even realize it was Valentine’s Day. Then if he replies...” 

Draco felt his mind lull into a dark weightless comfort until Hermione’s voice pulled him back.  

“Then what?” She asked. 

“I don’t know, take the time to evaluate how you feel,” Draco mumbled out fighting off the comfort of sleep, “You’ll know if you can forgive him. Move on. Or, maybe by then, you’ll see a new perspective.” 

“Right.” 

“All you need to know is that you didn’t deserve being stood up,” Draco sunk deeper into his bed, “If anything you deserve nothing less than the world... the moon too, and the planets.” 

If Draco hadn’t been falling into his slumber, he would have seen the rare smile on Hermione’s face with eyes of doubt but absolute trust in his words. 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Draco stirred in his sleep, feeling the soft fur of his throw blanket tickling his cheek 

He wanted to adjust himself slightly when he felt a firm lump right at his side. The sight of curls sticking up in odd angles and a face smooshed against his arm was certainly unexpected. 

Draco wasn’t aware exactly when he had dozed off but he was certain he wasn’t covered in his last memory of the night.  

His eyes glared in order to focus on the body next to him and despite recognizing Hermione, it didn’t dawn on him that Hermione had also dozed off, the map in her relaxed hand. Draco let in a deep inhale looking down at the throw blanket again and only assuming it was Hermione who had covered him while she laid next to him, curled up in a ball, free from any kind of cover.  

Draco paused, groggy from sleep, but thinking how incredibly stupid Hermione was for thinking of him. He tossed his blanket over her as well, causing a gentle push out of her own slumber. 

Her eyes twitched and then slightly opened, taking in the fact that they were both under the blanket. Her soft breaths yielded into a stifled yawn, drawing her shoulders tightly up before melting back into the pillows. Hermione stayed still for a moment and lifted her head to read Draco’s clock that now read 3:57AM. 

Draco tried to be respectful and give Hermione enough space between them however, within the next second her head fell back down from reading the clock, resting her head comfortably on his shoulder, curling up quite close to Draco’s side.  

Draco hesitated wondering if Hermione was at all fully aware of what she was doing but then again, Draco was still wondering if this was just a slice of a dream he was having that he would forget the very next day.  

He readjusted his arm, to bring her close and the very touch of her nose under his neck cause a jolt of surprise. 

“You’re freezing,” Draco jumped when bare parts of their skin touched. Hermione grumbled.  

“The heating charm must have worn off,” She whispered her voice raspy that sent shivers into Draco’s ears. With a soft exhale she settled in, holding herself to bundle the heat at her core. There was a very instinctual part of her that wanted to just curl herself around Draco that couldn’t be crossed.  

“Umbridge and Flitch haven’t let up,” She muttered, eyes closed, happily accepting her sleepy fate under his arm as if Draco was the only way to be warm. 

Could he have casted a warmth charm? Yes.  

Did he had the mental capacity to do so? Nope.  

After a brief pause and a soft sight escaping her lips, Draco was now looking into her brown ones that had cracked open once more. 

They stared at each other for a long stretch of time.  

Draco patiently waited for Hermione’s sporadic shivers to yield and he made sure that bits of her curls were tucked neatly behind her ear. Hermione brought the blanket up to her chin, her nose slightly red and painfully cold.  

In the dimness of his room, the sweet sound of silence amplified the ringing of Draco’s heart in his ear. She was there, closer than ever, and everything felt at peace. Draco’s mouth curled into a small smile knowing that Hermione was just as comfortable as he was.  

That is how they ended up cuddled under his fur lined throw, lulling themselves back to sleep with soft breaths and heavy eyes. 

Draco would one day crave to have spent more time awake with Hermione but had found a sweeter memory instead. 

When the morning came, Draco was well aware it was a late start to his morning and, unfortunately, Hermione was nowhere to be found.  

He almost resigned to the idea that it was a dream his heart had been yearning for but seeing the slight indent of his pillows next to him solidified his reality. 

A rare smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, allowing this pleasant feeling to fill him until he was thrown into a spiral of disappointment. 

She hadn’t stayed.  

There was a lightness to his chagrin Draco didn’t want to dive into. There was nothing to be embarrassed about or stressed about when he consider how nice it felt holding her. He was aware of how much it blurred the lines of being appropriate but if he really wanted to trick himself, there was hardly any difference between their late summer nights and what felt like a slight continuation of that.  

Surely if Hermione could avoid being teased from Ginny or scolded from Mrs. Weasley, she would have allowed herself to doze off in Draco’s bed during the summer.  

Surely, it was nothing to mull over or let his heart get carried away with.  

She was nothing more than a heartbroken friend trying to wait out Umbridge’s patrol.  

Draco jumped into his shower, got ready for the day in his casual clothes and school robe and went off to the Hospital Wing first thing before his breakfast, and feeling like he was doing something completely out of the norm for him.  

Like his reality had just shifted. 

As if he just stepped into another dimension, another universe, and he was off to see someone he barely knew. 

OR perhaps he just felt guilty about last night and he was about to face his girlfriend. That was all there was to it. 

Luckily for Draco, Millie seemed to have no recollection of having perhaps the worst Valentine’s date. She was happy to see him visit especially so she could ask him questions to fill in the parts that she forgot.  

“And the food was good, right?” Millie asked.  

Draco smiled, placing a comforting hand on hers, “Yes.” 

“And you liked your gift,” She blinked her wide hopeful eyes at him.  

Draco smiled kindly at her, “It’s sitting on my desk.” 

Millie beamed, although still groggy from the Seditativerum (that somehow both Draco and Neville manage to make a rather potent batch, it seems). 

“Did you like yours?” Draco asked.  

Millie blinked at him from her hospital bed and in a moment of pause, she looked at herself and then she spotted the bracelet she had been wearing.  

“Oh!” She pipped up, “This! Of course! It’s beautiful! It’s not blue but I still like it!” 

Draco let out a small chuckle and he called Madam Pomfrey over.  

“Will she be okay for tomorrow’s classes?” He asked “Professors are wondering if they should send her a weeks' worth of assignments instead of a just today’s.” 

Millie settled back into her bed still exhausted but at least she was awake... barely.

“A day’s worth is fine,” Madam Pomfrey gave him a curt smile and Millie was back on another deep restful nap. The smile was now a deep frown, “That is, if I can figure out what she had to know what to give her.” 

Madam Pomfrey gave him a stern look and pulled him away from Millie’s bedside.  

“Mind telling me why none of my hangover remedies are working?” She asked, her tone scolding. Draco licked the corner of his lips and sighed.  

“She took my Sedetiverum thinking it was the Euphoric Elixir we brewed for class.” He half admitted, hoping that she would give him a bit of grace.  

“Oh well isn’t that just wonderful! And how much did she take?” She scoffed.  

“An entire vile?” Draco shrugged unsure of its potency and Madam Pomfrey let out a frustrated scoff.  

“Well that will do it,” She grumbled him, “You only need a gulp of it for a deep slumber, could have induced a week long sleep if she hadn’t eaten anything.” 

Draco apologized to Madam Pomfrey, promising to return in the evening for Millie if she isn’t out sooner. 

Draco exited out into the corridors, stuffing his hands into his dark grey pants. 

Draco rubbed his ring, the warmth weaning from being close to Millie in the Hospital Wing. 

He thought carefully about how to make it up to Millie that is if she was mad at all. The charmed bracelet he gifted allowed him to sense when she was close by. Maybe it was a bit of an oversight to have a signal to warn Draco she was nearby.  

Why would he need the extra moment or two to know that? 

All things considered; it made Draco feel a little shitty.  

In that moment he decided to reverse the spell he had placed on her bracelet, the one that Daphne disapproved of, on the first opportunity he was presented with.

He wouldn’t need that heads up unless he was up to no good and truthfully, Draco needed to make sure he was a good boyfriend considering that Sephina still hadn’t appeared with any archive information. 

A worry that was far at the back of his mind once classes started for the day. 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Draco found himself in Snape's office, mindlessly petting Aster to speak to his professor about his progress with his OWLs studies and career prospects, something he had yet to clearly define as of late. As far as Draco was aware, he was one of the last fifth year students to remain undecided. Draco could feel Snape trying to shoot through his mind as a way to see what he has been up to since their legilimency lessons ceased.  

His brow hitched up in astonishment.  

“What have you been up to?” Snape asked, almost embarrassed to have to ask rather than shamelessly take from him.  

If Draco was honest, up to no good.  

He thought of the fact that Snape had no clue of his plans of the archives or all the tender moments he had with Hermione without intending to (one that he immediately buried in his heart the moment he woke up alone). 

“Studying,” Draco dryly replied, "Still exploring avenues of careers..."

Snape gave him a long cold stare.  

“And what of this alliance with Potter?” Snape hissed, "Are those distractions getting in the way of your future decision?"

There was an intense silence that fell over him, forcing Draco to realize that Harry was under Snape’s guidance as he had once been. It was only obvious that Snape saw something in Harry’s memories during their own lessons but also, he was privy to the knowledge that Draco had begged Snape to teach him Legilimency.  

Draco took a moment to respond.  

“How is he fairing?” Draco asked, changing the the topic, “Potter?” 

“Stubborn.” Snape admitted, “But fine, all things considered.” 

“Great.” 

Annoyed, Snape looked back at his notes and jotted a few things down, “So you mentioned that want to go down the route of Historian? Possibly.” 

Draco gulped, “If it's possible to double the focus of Ancient Runes, you know, to decipher primitive magic. Origins, primarily.” 

Snape stared at him for the longest time before he crumbled under the weight of realization. 

Snape sighed, “Dare I ask if you have any interest in fundamental mysteries, Draco.” 

Draco smirked, “Now that I think of it.” 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Draco now had the clearance to check out books from the restricted section particularly on the subjects of the mysteries of magic once he had solidified his career wishes with Snape. 

He unfortunately had to place Draco back into Divinations class as it is required to have an ‘Exceeds Expectations’ for his OWLs examinations. It was a rather awkward introduction back into a class he swore never to take again but at least it was now being taught by a rather strange centaur named Firenze since Professor Trelawney was unfortunately sacked from her position. 

(Not that Draco was looking forward to have Trelawney announcing any more embarrassing predictions in front of class.) 

Needless to say, Draco was drowning in work.  

The only positive outcome of finally solidifying his career choice was that Snape’s restricted section clearance allowed Draco to have access to a plethora of new sources he had been struggling with last year. 

The problem now was that Draco had an overwhelming amount of information, he didn’t know where to start.  

Despite his hesitation, he was keen on finding if Hogwarts had a map of the Department of Mysteries but he quickly found it to be a fruitless endeavor.  

Since Sephina hadn’t popped in to update him Draco had taken it upon himself to find any morsel of information but unfortunately, what he had found was quite confusing and wasn’t sure exactly what he had been reading.  

Brain room? 

Time room? 

It was all truly hard to grasp especially when they had their professors breathing down their backs, essays and presentations due, as well as attending to his social life and quidditch practice.  

Despite being at liberty to call for Sephina’s presence whenever he pleased, there was that tiny problem of a certain girlfriend sneaking into his room to spend the night over which meant that he had absolutely no time to be alone or to even think of Sephina. 

One morning, at the beginning of March, Millie’s arm was loosely strewn over his bare chest peacefully sleeping next to him. The bracelet was in his line of vision and, thankfully, his wand was within reach. Draco noted he had slipped his ring off, impossibly warm from being so close to the bracelet. 

Draco was pleased that the spell had worked but he often was irritated to feel how warm his finger was throughout the night. He’d took his wand, pointing it at Millie’s wrist and muttered a reversal incantation.  

The sound of Draco’s voice must have waken Millie up. Her eyes flew open, witnessing Draco point his wand at her wrist.  

Millie immediately sat up, covering her bare chest with the covers. Millie gave him a very pointed look and Draco had no idea how he was able to cover up what looked like a very strange thing to wake up to.  

“I-,” He gulped, his mind racing, “I was going to charm it.” 

Millie continued to stare, waiting for him to explain.  

“I know you wanted blue...” Draco slowly began, “So I thought-” 

“Charm the gems blue?” Millie finished off, seemingly unimpressed.  

“Yes,” Draco pressed his lips into a thin line in thought, “Charm the peridots to turn blue every time I thought about you, so you can see...” 

Draco winced at how terrible his excuse was being caught trying to reverse a spell to alleviate him from some guilt.  

Millie closed her eyes, her nose scrunching slightly, “Oh Draco. You’re so romantic.” 

Millie threw herself at Draco and thanked him in the only way she could at the moment.