Hello hello hello! I'm back :) I'm sorry it took so long, but to make up for it, this chapter is a little over two times as long as my updates usually are! Lots of things must happen, so you're getting it all at once. I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy- stay at home, if you can, and protect those that can't. My thoughts are with everyone, all over the world, who are impacted by this terrible tragedy.

I would love to know your thoughts on this chapter- I worked hard, and so did my incredible beta, HarryPGinnyW4eva. Reviews are like cold butterbeer on a hot, summer day! If you would be so kind as to leave a review, I would so appreciate it.

Disclaimer: none of this is mine, but I wish that it were.

Ch. 31- On Distractions

Unlike their cold and dreary March, April came in like a lion and went out like a lamb, and soon it was May. Hermione pushed the case to the back of her mind (as best she could, anyway, while still having her every move watched by MLE guards) and focused on her upcoming N.E. . She created a rigorous and full study schedule for every moment of her free time, and was determined to focus on finishing her school career impressively.

Draco, on the other hand, couldn't begin to comprehend how Hermione was so laser focused on her schoolwork. He had always considered himself to be a good student- second only to Hermione in most cases- but compared to her level of dedication, he looked like Weasley. He tried to closely follow the timetable that Hermione had made for him because he didn't want to look like a dolt next to his brilliant girlfriend when their exam results came back, but a man had to make time for other things. In Draco's case, those things often included plotting his attempts to seduce Hermione away from her books for a few minutes and going over every detail of her case in his mind.

Nothing had changed, even after his father agreed to give statements against the loose Death Eaters, which worried him. Potter and Weasley assured him that the Aurors weren't concerned- that "no news was good news" and that they were counting it a victory that no other muggleborns had been murdered- but he couldn't help but play Theo's warning over and over in his mind. The Death Eaters. They want Hermione. I'm near certain that all of these other killings have just been a prelude to that. Any time he tried to bring it up to Hermione, she would kiss him and ask why he was squandering their limited time alone together… which frankly was a point he had a hard time refuting.

The second Friday in May found Draco and Blaise walking the halls back to the Heads common room. The boys had just finished Advanced Transfiguration and were done with classes until Monday morning. Draco knew Hermione would likely give him a real bollocking for faffing about with Blaise when he should be studying, but he was in a great mood and wanted to skive off work for a bit with his mate.

"What's got you so chuffed?" Blaise asked with a raised eyebrow, as the men came up to the guards outside the Head's common room.

"Beg your pardon?" Draco asked, giving the password to Helga and nodding to the MLE officers stationed at the door.

"You're bloody whistling," the Italian responded with an eye roll, throwing himself down on the sofa.

Draco crossed to the kitchen, smirking to himself. He had been thinking about several things. The school year was almost finished, which meant he could start his life- his real life. He'd received his Transfiguration essay back today and earned full marks, and Professor Wilson had complimented his argument in favor of stricter regulation of Animal Conjuration in front of the whole class. Hermione had beamed wildly at him with pride, which led Draco to think about all of the naughty things she might let him do to her as a reward for being so clever. Yes, thought Draco, as he pulled a hidden bottle of Beetle Berry Whiskey from the back of a cupboard, I have every reason to whistle.

Blaise interrupted his reverie. "Ugh. You're irritating as hell when you're getting some. You know that, right?"

"And you're a wanker all the time, so we're even," Draco retorted with a smile, bringing Blaise a glass.

"How are things with your lioness, then? Still well, I take it?" Blaise asked, sipping his drink and settling back into the cushions. Draco wasn't one to share his feelings, and typically kept anything even slightly resembling emotion entirely under wraps, but something about the bushy-haired Gryffindor unlocked his normally guarded friend, and Draco had been known to wax poetic from time to time. Only with Blaise, of course, as he was still a Slytherin.

"She's brilliant. She's everything I've ever wanted, mate," Draco told him confidentially, a huge smile on his face.

"I love the 'new sex bubble', when you do it all the time because you can't get enough of each other," Blaise responded with a satisfied smirk, remembering his "bubbles" from the past. He then thought about his own bird, the only woman who he had stayed around for after the bubble had popped.

Draco shook his head. "It's not like that. Don't get me wrong, mate, sex is fantastic. I hope to do it every day for the rest of my life." At that, Blaise snorted, and Draco continued, "But, I'm glad I waited for Granger. I know it's poncy, and you can laugh all you want, but sex is brilliant because it's with her. The love that I feel from her… Merlin, I can't even explain it."

"You're right. That is poncy," Blaise responded with a chuckle. Draco glared at him and Blaise continued, "But I'm happy for you, mate. No one deserves happiness more than you. Except maybe Granger." He took a sip from his glass.

"Thanks," muttered Draco, also taking a long pull from his whiskey. They didn't normally do 'sincere', so it wore on his nerves a bit to be so genuine.

"So are you going to ask her to marry you after N.E. ?"

Draco choked on his drink, coughing and wheezing while Blaise looked on, laughing. He finished his glass, set it on the side table, and clapped Draco a few times on the back. "Didn't mean to alarm you, mate. I just figured it was something the two of you had talked about."

Draco shook his head, his coughing finally subsiding. "Not at all. We've only been together seven months, for Salazar's sake!"

"You don't think she's expecting it?" Blaise asked, crossing the room to grab the bottle of whiskey and refilling his glass.

"No, I don't. It's Granger. She's too logical to jump into something so quickly… look how long it took me to convince her to date me!" Draco explained, holding his glass out for Blaise to fill.

"I don't know, mate. She's still a bird. You've done a great job of showing her what a romantic, little arsewipe you can be." Draco glared. "I mean, your patronuses mirror each other for Merlin's sake! She has to know you're in it for the long haul. Why wait?"

Hmm, thought Draco, why wait?

After dinner, Draco walked Hermione back to their common room, and motioned for Auror Bishop to stay back a ways and give them their space. He laced his fingers in hers, relishing in the feel of her soft, warm skin against his. Hermione was babbling about North Germanic tradition of the Elder Futhark script- something that meant nothing to Draco, as he didn't take Advanced Runes- which she was convinced would be on the Runes N.E.W.T. Draco took a minute to study her as they walked. She was talking at the speed of light, rambling about "Vadstena and Mariedamm bracteates" and her eyes were alight with intellectual curiosity. She looked a bit untidy, with her skirt wrinkled and shirt halfway tucked; she had decided to forgo an orderly appearance in favor of time to study before breakfast. She had the start of dark circles under her eyes, which Draco felt a bit guilty about, as he knew she was definitely using time she normally would've spent sleeping to be with him. Her curls were tied in a crazy pile on top of her head and she had a smudge of ink on the tip of her nose. She looked a little mad, but his heart felt fit to burst with affection.

"What're you most excited for after we leave Hogwarts, Granger?" he asked, cutting off her diatribe.

She scrunched up her nose in confusion. "After Hogwarts? Draco you weren't listening to a thing I said, were you?"

He smirked at her and gave her a quick peck on the top of her head. "Sorry, love. Ancient Runes means nothing to me. And I've just been thinking about the future a lot lately…"

"We have to get through our N.E. first!" she reminded him, as if he could ever forget with her around.

"I know, love," he pacified, bringing their joined hands up to his lips so he could kiss the back of hers. "But after… what are you looking forward to?"

She sighed, taking a moment to consider it. "I suppose it will really depend on whether or not they find the person who has been threatening us, won't it?"

"Best case scenario?" he prompted her.

She smiled up at him. "Living life, I suppose. Working… probably at the Ministry. Doing something I really love. And getting to spend as much time with you, doing whatever we please. That's what I'm most looking forward to."

She leaned up to peck his cheek, but he turned his head and caught her lips. Their kiss quickly turned heated, and he maneuvered them down the hall and into a hidden corridor behind a tapestry. She nipped on the special spot under his jaw that made his knees go weak and he growled, slipping his hand under her shirt. The feel of his cool hands on the warm skin of her stomach felt heavenly, but also jolted her back to reality.

"Draco! We can't be doing this," she scolded, pulling his hand out of her shirt and attempting to tuck it back in.

"Why not? No one can see us, Granger." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "C'mon, it'll be fun..."

"Absolutely not. That's incredibly inappropriate behavior for Head students to be engaged in. We could lose our badges!" she told him, unsuccessfully attempting to smooth out the wrinkles in her skirt.

"Granger, the school year is almost over," he groaned, adjusting his trousers as they had grown tight. "Let's make the most of the rest of our time here. Do you know how many students have probably shagged in these halls?"

She sighed. "It would be nice to do something fun… ever since the Aurors started tailing us we've been so limited in what we can get away with." She smirked up at him, moving her hands to his chest. Just as she began saying, "Okay, let's do it!" he shook his head.

The illicit thoughts of their possible rendezvous that had been playing in his head quickly evaporated at the mention of the word Auror. All at once, he imagined Auror Bishop pulling back the curtain, finding them in a compromising situation… or worse yet, Hermione's would-be attacker.

"Nevermind, this is a bad idea," he told her, taking a step back.

"What? You were just trying to convince me! You've convinced me. I'm ready to go. It'll be fun!" she told him, taking another step towards him and running her hands up and down his chest.

He grabbed her hands. "I don't doubt that it would be, but it would be highly irresponsible. What if that lowlife decides to attack you while I've got my pants down? Do you know how many bad things could happen?" He ran his hands through his hair. "Not to mention Bishop is following us…"

"So?"

"Granger, you want to work in the Ministry," he explained.

"And?"

"I don't want him to catch us doing something improper… your reputation would be ruined."

She chuckled. "My reputation?"

"Granger, I won't be the bloke that makes you look like some kind of… trollop!" he told her, exasperated.

"Trollop? Honestly, Draco… you sound like Ronald," she replied with an eye roll.

"When were you behind a tapestry with Weasley?" he asked, suddenly alarmed, his normally tame jealousy flaring up.

"I wasn't, you big, jealous prat. That's like something he would say. You're acting too old-fashioned. I don't give a damn what staunchy, old purebloods think of me. My reputation is that of a war heroine and hopefully an exemplary student." She smiled up at him. "Now c'mon… let's have fun!"

He shook his head, holding open the tapestry for her to step out into the hall. "No means no, Granger."

She rolled her eyes, but followed him out into the hall all the same. "I'll remember that when we get back to the common room, and you're stuck on me like a bowtruckle on trees."

He groaned.

Saturday morning Draco woke to the sound of birds chirping happily outside the window, to find himself wrapped entirely around his Gryffindor bedmate. It seemed that exams brought back Hermione's nightmares, and the best way to combat the nightmares was to hold her close to him, until she calmed down.

He took a minute to assess the situation he was in; moving would mean that Hermione would surely wake up, which was absolutely out of the question. To distract himself from the itchy feeling on the tip of his nose, he took a moment to just appreciate the position he'd found himself in. The sun was streaming in through the window, casting a warm glow on everything, and bathing the room in sunlight. He was nestled in crimson bedding that smelled like pears, gardenias, and vanilla, but also like bergamot and his expensive cologne, proof that he slept here, tangled in Hermione, every night. Most importantly, he was wrapped around his dream girl, who was clad only in his old Quidditch jersey.

Said dream girl had punished him for his refusal to take her in the hall behind a tapestry by playing a game of cat and mouse for several hours, that ended with his face buried between her thighs. She'd squirmed and groaned and promised all sorts of horribly filthy deeds, and he'd relished in the four (not that he was bragging) times he'd brought her to a screaming orgasm with his tongue. When he'd finally decided that he'd had enough fun with her and was ready for the main event, he realized that she was on the edge of sleep. He might've thought it was a cruel joke if it weren't for the gruelling schedule she was forcing herself to keep, and the four (again, not that he would boast) delicious orgasms that had her completely boneless and totally relaxed. So he'd grabbed a night shirt from her drawer and changed her into it, before tucking her into bed and heading off for a solo shower with his wand hand.

He breathed in the scent of her hair and nestled her neck just a bit, unable to help himself; she was a divine creature, and she was all his. He felt his member hardening in his pants, and willed it to go away to no avail. He felt Hermione stir, stretching herself even as she still slept, before unconsciously realizing how much she enjoyed the hard wall of muscle pressed against her back and the stiff member nestled against her arse. Still asleep she purred, and rolled her hips back into him, bringing his cock to full attention. He felt, more so than heard, the sharp intake of breath that let him know she was awake, and then she ground herself against his dick even more forcefully, tantalizingly wriggling her arse and bringing her arms up behind her head to wrap around his neck.

"Morning, Granger," he grunted, slipping his hands under the jersey, and grabbing her hips.

"Good morning, love," she replied, sighing when she felt his lips on her neck. She tugged at the hair at the base of his neck, loving the silky feel of it between her fingers, and letting Draco know that she was enjoying his ministrations.

"Sleep well?" he asked nonchalantly, before slipping his hands up her stomach to roll her nipples between his fingers, and returning to his assault on her neck. He'd found the spot at the juncture of her neck and shoulders that made her lose all coherent thought.

She groaned. "Better than I have in weeks. Probably because- oh!" she suddenly interjected, quickly turning in his arms, and taking Draco away from the fine work he'd been doing on a love bite on her neck. "Oh Draco, I completely forgot! I was going to tell you that it was probably because of all the time you spent…" she trailed off, her cheeks going pink.

"Feasting on your pussy?" he supplied with a devious smirk.

"Draco! Don't be so crass," she scolded, then continued, "But yes. You've grown incredibly proficient at… well, playing my body like a piano, to be blunt. And I just felt so amazing and I've been so exhausted that-"

"Hey," Draco interrupted, heading off the apologetic ramble that was surely coming. "It's okay. You needed sleep and I was just pleased to have exhausted you so thoroughly." He winked at her and her cheeks flushed even further.

"Yes, well," she started, sliding her hand down his chest toward his stiff erection, "I thought perhaps I could return the favor."

Before he could reply she had slipped beneath the covers, divested him of his pants, and was massaging his cock with her soft hand, while she laid kisses around his pelvic bone. She alternated pace and speed and just when he thought it couldn't get any better, she sheathed his whole dick in her warm, wet mouth, sucking like she was enjoying an ice lolly in the middle of July. He quickly flipped the covers off of them, determined to watch his cock disappear between the gorgeous red lips that he so adored. She made a few more passes up and down his shaft, and then began massaging his bollocks.

"Oi! Hermione. That's enough, love. Stop," he told her, and she quickly backed off of his dick.

"I'm sorry, Draco! Did I do something wrong? You've always liked when I've done that before!" she asked, her concerned face full of insecurity.

He grabbed her face, pulling her to him for a long, hot, passionate kiss. "You have absolutely never done anything wrong with regards to my… little dragon." He smirked and she rolled her eyes playfully. "I just didn't want to finish so soon. I want to be inside you. Would that be okay?" he asked, and delighted in the way her eyes glazed over with lust as she nodded.

He flipped them over so she was under him, and ran his fingers through her folds as she pulled his jersey over her head. She groaned. "Draco, this was supposed to be your treat. What in Merlin's name are you doing? Clearly I'm ready! I don't know if it's possible to be more turned on!"

"Shut up, Granger. This is fun for me. Don't spoil my treat by taking my toy away," he teased, bringing his middle and index fingers to his mouth and coating them in his saliva before using them to gently finger her opening. "Do me a favor? Pinch those pretty nipples for me?" he asked, and she wasted no time in acquiescing eagerly. "That's a good girl," he praised her with a wink, finger fucking her a bit more forcefully.

Sex was still so new to them that he wasn't quite sure he would consistently please her… especially given how worked up he already was. But this, he mused, this he was good at, and knew by now exactly what she liked. Between his fingers inside of her and stroking her clit, her own fingers on her sensitive nipples (that were soon replaced with his talented tongue), and the naughty things that he whispered in her ear while kissing her neck and jaw, it wasn't long before she was a writhing, whining mess, coming apart for him. He plunged into her, and came not long after, thanking Merlin and Morgana that he'd had the foresight to get her off first- he hadn't had her in two days, which felt (to his cock, anyway) like an eternity, and he knew he wouldn't last long inside the warm, wet nirvana that was Hermione.

"Salazar's wand, Granger… you're bloody fantastic and I love you so much," he breathed, withdrawing from her and breathing heavily. He leaned over to grab his wand from the night table, placing a sweet kiss on her nose before casting a cleansing charm on them both.

"I love you too, you horrible, rotten git," she chided with a smirk.

His eyebrows raised into his fringe. "Horrible, rotten git? Whatever have I done to deserve that title? I was under the impression that we just had a great deal of fun."

"I was hoping to try something new, but you just have to be in charge," she told him with a nonchalant shrug, curling into his side. He gaped down at her, and felt her chuckle against his side.

"Something new? Color me intrigued, Granger," he told her, burying his hand in her sweaty curls and laying a kiss on her temple. They'd only been at this for a few weeks, and still were getting used to the basic mechanics of missionary, girl on top, and crup-style. They'd tried some light bondage and explored each other's limits, but still hadn't done anything exceptionally adventurous.

"Mhm, a new position. It's a great deal of fun, from what Ginny's told me… How do you feel about the reverse thestral?" she asked with a mischievous smirk.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted Hermione's concentration. It was Saturday evening and she'd somehow convinced Ginny, Blaise, and Draco to hunker down and study with her for a few hours, so this disturbance was doubly unwelcome. She turned to Draco, who shrugged as if to say 'I wasn't expecting anyone', before he got up and opened the door, wand at the ready. In a flash, Harry and Ron came barreling through the door.

"What are you two doing here?" Ginny asked from her spot on the sofa, closing her books as Hermione sighed. She'd tried so hard to get the group to focus, but now that was all for naught.

"Yeah, you look like you've seen a poltergeist. Did Peeves drop a dungbomb on you on your way up here?" Blaise asked with a lighthearted smile, but Hermione knew better.

She took in the hard set of Harry's jaw, and recognized it instantly. It's the look he had on his face when he and Ron got mad at her for telling McGonagall about his broom from Sirius… the same look he'd used on that horrible, rainy night when he had fought with Ron in the tent, before Ron left them on their hunt for Horcruxes. She knew that nothing that came out of Harry's mouth was going to be good.

"Who died?" she asked, bracing herself.

Harry shook his head. "No one died…" he explained, not meeting her eyes.

"Harry…" she implored, taking a step forward. She wanted to cross the room to hold her friend while he delivered this bad news, but found that her legs wouldn't quite carry her.

"What is it, Potter? Weasley? You're scaring her," Draco grumbled, coming to wrap a fortifying arm around Hermione's waist.

Harry shook his head and Ron sighed. "It's your parent's house, Hermione…" the redhead explained."It's been ransacked. Completely pillaged."

They all heard Hermione's pitiful gasp, and then her knees gave out. Before she could crash to the ground, Draco wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her into his chest, holding her to him tightly and running a hand down her heard him ask, "Could it have been random? Just some terrible muggles looking for something to filch?"

She turned her head to see Harry shaking his head sadly. "Not a chance. Another muggleborn was found dead in the house… they'd written a warning on the wall in his blood. It mentioned Hermione by name."

"What can we do?" Ginny asked, coming to where Hermione was currently resting in Draco's arms, and leading her friend to the sofa to sit. "How can we help?"

Ron went red. "You'll do nothing, Ginny. You're not an Auror. You're not trained to handle this!"

She snorted in a menacing sort of way. "I can duel a fair bit better than you, Ronald!" She grabbed Hermione's hand. "We all love Hermione. We want to protect her. What can we do?"

Harry sighed. "He's right, Gin. You'll do nothing. Leave this to the professionals."

She opened her mouth to fire off a scathing retort, but Blaise intervened. "Listen to them, love." His voice was gentle, but firm, and none of them, except Draco (on one or two occasions), had ever heard that tone from the usually genial Slytherin. "Granger has enough to worry about… she doesn't need you flying off the handle. She shouldn't have to worry about you, too."

Hermione squeezed Ginny's fingers, and Ginny turned back to Hermione, taking in the sadness that was painted all over her friend's face. Hermione had been through so much- more than anyone had a right to in her short nineteen years of life. "There has to be something I can do for you, 'Mione…" she muttered, barely above a whisper.

Hermione felt the sofa dip beside her, and then Draco was wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She thought of her parents. Of her father's warm, sweet eyes… her mother's comforting embrace. She pictured all the birthdays and yule celebrations she'd shared with them in the living room of their comfortable Hampstead home. She thought of the day when Professor McGonagall had come to visit, sharing the news that Hermione was a witch, and changing their lives forever. Her last physical connection to her parents had been taken from her. She could go back, but it would never be the same again. This was a brand new sort of grief. She hadn't thought it was possible to feel new emotions related to her parent's passing, but she was wrong. This felt hollow and achy and miserable in a horrible new way; her heart was broken.

"Distract me?" Hermione muttered, meeting Ginny's eyes and silently pleading for her friend to understand.

Ginny nodded and silently pondered on this request for a moment, racking her brain for what might be appropriate. Then, her eyes lit up. "A party."

"What?"

"There's a party tonight in Gryffindor Tower. I don't normally tell you about them because, well, you're the Head Girl. But this seems like as good a time as any for you to break the rules."

"Hermione, love, I don't know if that's…" Draco started, under his breath, but Hermione cut him off, turning to him.

"No, it's what I want to do," she stated, matter of factly, standing up.

Harry shook his head. "I hate to say it, but I agree with Malfoy. This seems like a bad idea, Hermione."

She sighed. "Harry, I thought you, of all people, would understand. I mean, I know you don't really remember your parents, but still. It's agonizing to constantly replay their loss over and over… I don't want to remember my parents right now or feel this pain. I don't want to think about the implications of what this attack means for me. I just want to be distracted from it for a night."

Harry ran his hand through his hair, and then wiped it down his face. She'd laid it on thick, she knew, but guilt was the only way she would get him to see her side. He got tunnel vision when it came to protecting people, and if he didn't allow her to do something now, she knew she'd do something more dramatic later.

Ron chimed in. "If you go, we go with you."

Hermione's face brightened a bit, and she nodded. "Yes, yes, I figured as much." She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Ron. "Thank you," she told him before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

Harry grumbled under his breath. "Oh fine. But Ron's got it in one- we're coming with you."

"I'm glad!" she told them, giving them a small, sad smile and taking one each of their hands in hers. "I miss you both."

"C'mon, 'Mione!" Ginny called, trying to infuse cheeriness in her tone, though they could all hear it sounded a little false. She was determined to take Hermione's mind off current events. Ginny knew she couldn't do much to keep Hermione safe, but she could do this. "Let's go get ready for tonight."

The ladies closed themselves in Hermione's room. Ginny was insistent that they would never be ready in time, as they only had two hours, but Hermione playfully rolled her eyes and said, "I think we'll manage. You're bloody gorgeous in sweatpants with a clean face, and Draco loves me no matter what. He's the only person I care about impressing." She shrugged.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "First off, you're quite beautiful, as well, Hermione. And second, just because Draco loves you doesn't mean you don't want to look hot. You want him to be unable to take his hands off of you!" She gestured for Hermione to come sit on her desk chair.

Crossing her bedroom, Hermione replied, "I don't think I'm going to have any issues with that. He has a hard time keeping his hands to himself no matter what I look like." She sat in the chair as Ginny indicated, smiling to herself.

She felt Ginny fingers winding her hair into two loose plaits on the sides of her head with alarming efficiency. "Tell me about it, then. You've been annoyingly quiet about your sex life."

"It's private, Gin," Hermione confided in a quiet voice. "It feels like I'm betraying him, to talk about it."

Ginny groaned. "Is it good, at least?"

Hermione smiled. "Bloody fantastic."

Meanwhile, the gents settled down at the table to play a few rounds of Exploding Snap. They quietly discussed plans to shadow Hermione all evening, so she wasn't ever alone, but didn't feel stifled, lest she get angry and hex them. At half six, they all adjourned to get themselves ready for the soiree, with a plan to meet up in the Head's common room in an hour.

Draco rummaged through his wardrobe, taking a moment to peruse the room he spent so little time in. His desk was tidy and his bed was made. It didn't look lived in, at all. When was the last time I slept in here? he wondered to himself. His whole life was woven so seamlessly into Hermione's, and he couldn't imagine ever going back… which is why he was still a bit miffed at Potter and Weasley for letting her out tonight. A party is no place to keep her safe. This is reckless, even with our planning. Surely they know that.

He pulled a pair of black, muggle denims from the back of his wardrobe, remembering how Hermione had practically salivated over his bum the last time he'd worn them. He'd let her have a bit of fun tonight, and then he'd drag her back to their common rooms and not let the world in. Pulling out a white tshirt and the ice colored jumper Hermione had gifted him for Christmas, he quickly spritzed himself with a bit of his expensive cologne and dressed, finishing his low key ensemble with a pair of muggle trainers that Hermione had encouraged him to buy. Running a hand through his hair to make sure it had that effortlessly disheveled look that favored his face, he opened the door, stepping into the common room to wait for the others.

Blaise arrived back first, dressed like a member of one of those muggle boy bands that Hermione so enjoyed. Draco considered poking fun at him, then remembered he was wearing a sweater to a party in April, just because Hermione had purchased it for him. He had no right to take the mickey. Potter and Weasley arrived later, looking more casual than before, though equally disheveled. The men sat around waiting for a while, chatting and sipping cheap firewhisky. Ten minutes went by, then fifteen, and when twenty had finally passed, Ron began banging on the door to Hermione's room, demanding that the girls come join them.

"Oi!" Ginny called, opening the door and brandishing her wand in her brother's face. "Shush your mush or I'll show you the latest hex I've learned. We were almost done, you git!"

"You can't threaten me, Ginevra," Ron taunted, "I'm an Auror!"

"I don't know when that's stopped her in the past, mate," Blaise told him with a smile, as Ginny pushed past her brother to join Blaise on the sofa. The Italian took in her tiny, black dress, satin choker, and heels, and tried not to let her brother catch him salivating, to no avail.

"Hey Zabini! You keep your eyes in your sockets. That's my little sister," the redhead scolded, cheeks growing a bit crimson at all of the exposed leg his sister was displaying.

"Oh Ronald," he heard from over his shoulder and turned to see Hermione exiting the bedroom. "Ginny is an adult and can do with her body as she pleases. You have no right to police her, or Blaise, so long as their behavior is consensual."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it!" Ron grumbled, storming over to an armchair, and throwing himself down in it.

Hermione crossed the room and sat in Draco's lap, on the other chair. "Let's all have one round, and then head out?" She smiled cheerily at her friends.

"Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?" Harry asked skeptically.

She laughed. "I'm just trying to loosen up. Isn't that what you're all on about all the time? I want to have fun for a night. Get a bit legless and forget the world." She took a glass of amber liquid from Blaise, who handed it to her with a wink.

"You look lovely, Granger," he told her with a suave smile, but Hermione just rolled her eyes good-naturedly. Blaise was handsome, to be certain, and incredibly charming. She supposed she could see how girls would throw themselves at him… it was just that her attention was firmly fixed on her own Slytherin, whose warm arms around her made her feel safe, and whose comforting scent reminded her of home. Home, she thought briefly, with a pang in her chest. How strange that Draco now filled a spot that she once thought she would only ever associate with a place that was now unsafe and unidentifiable to her. She took a sip and heard Draco behind her turn down a glass.

"You're not drinking?" she asked him quietly, shifting in his lap a bit and turning her head to make eye contact.

He shook his head. "Not tonight. I want you to be able to have all the fun that you want. I'll just take care of you." As if to prove his point, he squeezed her a little tighter with the arms wrapped around her midriff.

They all quickly downed their glasses and then made to head out the door. Hermione got up, and Draco got the chance to take a good look at her. Merlin, she was beautiful. In her short, tight floral dress she looked like a nymph. Her legs were bare, but unlike Red she had chosen to forgo heels in the interest of comfort, and was wearing chunky, white trainers that Draco found absolutely adorable. Her dress was belted at the waist, showing off her feminine frame, and her hair was long and loose in those gorgeous spirals he loved so much, except for two pieces that were braided back, so he could see more of her face. It would seem that she had glamored her lips and eyelashes, but otherwise she was fresh faced, which he was grateful for- he considered it a travesty that she would ever cover up her adorable freckles. His heart swelled with affection and he pulled her into a proper snog before she knew what was happening, but she gave in to his kisses all the same. They stayed like that for a few moments, until the heckling from their friends became unbearable and they pulled apart.

She smiled up at him shyly. "What was that for?" she asked under her breath as they made their way to the portrait hole to join their friends.

He shrugged. "I just love you," he told her simply. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

She blushed and, in that moment, he felt like he might be able to produce a patronus that would defeat a thousand dementors.

"What do you mean you think Robbie Williams should have left 'Take That'?" Draco heard Hermione screech indignantly at a muggleborn sixth year he didn't recognize. The two had been going back and forth about muggle bands, and Draco was content to hang by her side and pretend he knew what was going on.

She was definitely on her way to pissed- he could tell by the red tint of her cheeks. He had a sobering potion on hand, as he didn't trust the dodgy drinks that the Gryffindors had been passing around, and thought he might need one to get her back to their portrait hole. Still, she seemed to be having a good time, and he was thankful for that.

He felt her wrap her arms around him. "Let's go find a dark corner to snog in," she whispered, doing her best attempt at seduction. Her hands wandered to his bum and she gave it an enthusiastic squeeze.

He chuckled. "That's a bit forward, Granger." He removed her hands from his bum, bringing them to his face so he could kiss her knuckles.

She pouted, jutting out her bottom lip. "I want to be like normal teenagers. No war, no blood status, no crazy attacker on the loose," she told him, but her plea was somewhat undermined by the slurring of her words.

Draco frowned, looking down at her. He wished more than anything that they could be normal teenagers and find a dark corner to fool around in. But they weren't normal and he felt like he had to stay completely aware of his surroundings to protect her. He shook his head at her, tweaking her nose fondly. "Not tonight, love."

Tears welled up in her eyes. "Fine," she retorted, aggressively wiping at her eyes. She made to storm away from him, but he grabbed her arm. In an instant she had torn her arm away, sending a nonverbal stinging jinx at him. "Leave me alone, Malfoy," she snarled, and marched over to where Ginny was dancing with Luna.

Draco groaned. Silly little cow can't ever make my life easy, he thought. He'd give her space, if that's what she wanted, but that didn't mean he'd take his eyes off of her. He watched as she danced with the ladies, smiling a bit when Pansy came over to join them, and rolling his eyes when Pansy grabbed his girlfriend's hips, grinding in time to the music. He knew that Hermione was mad at him, but tomorrow when she was sober she'd realize he was right, and that was all that mattered.

Hermione was doing her best to push Draco out of her mind. If he didn't want to have fun with her, fine! She'd have fun on her own. She joined Ginny and Luna in jumping around to an upbeat tune by The Weird Sisters. And, when the bass thumped, playing a funky, sexy song by the Vibes Twins, she felt Pansy slip behind her. She knew it was no doubt annoying her boyfriend, though she couldn't confirm it, as she was determined not to look in his direction. When Ginny grabbed the hand of a nervous Neville and encouraged him to join their group, Hermione threw back her head and laughed, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. She wasn't free- far from it- but there, with her friends, while the music was bumping and the lights were low, she felt 19 years old for the first time in a long time.

When the music slowed to a love song, and Ginny and Luna grabbed Blaise and Ron, Hermione left the dance floor to find something to drink that wouldn't make her head spin any further. She finally found drinks in a secluded corner, but it seemed that finding punch that hadn't been spiked with cheap firewhisky proved to be a real challenge. She was about to say "forget it" when she felt Draco creep into her personal space.

"What do you want?" she grumbled, crossing her arms and turning around to face him.

"I know, I know- you're mad at me. I brought you a drink, and then I'll leave you alone," he told her with a charming smirk. She was annoyed with him, but took the glass from him all the same, bringing it to her nose. He shook his head. "You looked like you were maybe ready to slow down for the night. There's no alcohol in that. It actually has a little sobering potion." He shrugged.

She rolled her eyes, but drank it nonetheless, and with a wink he left her side, as promised. Bloody infuriating man, she thought, sipping her punch. Where does he get off being thoughtful and bloody gorgeous while I'm trying to be mad at him? She was studying him across the room, where he was chatting with Neville, when she felt someone else enter her space.

"'Lo, Hermione," she heard Ernie utter uncertainly.

She turned to him with a smile. "Hi, Ernie. How has your night been?"

"Okay, so far," he said, nervously scratching the back of his head.

"Why are you acting all anxious?" she asked him, giving him a curious look over the top of her glass as she took another sip.

He sighed. "I want to be your friend, Hermione… but Malfoy keeps glaring at me." He gestured across the room where, sure enough, her blonde beau was giving them a death stare. She stuck her tongue out at him and turned back to the Hufflepuff.

"Ignore him. He's in a temper because I'm mad at him. Here," she told him, setting down her empty glass and pushing Ernie gently on the arm, "let's move over this way. We'll be blocked from his view and he can't stare you down."

She gestured them into a corner of the room near the entryway, blocked from most of the rest of the room by curtains. Ernie smiled. "Thanks, Hermione. He can be a real scary bugger, you know?"

She chuckled. "His bark is worse than his bite, I assure you." She looked down, as Ernie pulled something from his pocket. "What's that?" she asked.

"Oh, just an old tie pin. Something I keep in my pocket and fidget with. It's a family heirloom. Here," he said, holding it out to her, "look at the engraving work on the sides."

She took it from him, and began examining it, when she heard Ernie mutter, "I am sorry, Hermione."

Before she could ask what he was sorry about, she felt the pull of nausea that only accompanied portkey travel, and suddenly felt herself leaving the safety of Hogwarts.

Dun dun duhhhhhh! I'd love to know what you're thinking! Did you see that coming?