Draco adjusted his tie in the mirror for what he hoped would be the second-to-last time that year. It was the evening of the sixth and seventh year parents' banquet and he could say definitively that he was quite ready to have his weekends free again. Not that spending hours putting up and taking down decorations wasn't absolutely invigorating, he simply had better uses for his time.

Like working on his mountains of homework. Or spending time with his girlfriend. Or doing literally anything else.

He checked his teeth before standing back to sweep a glance down the body reflecting in the mirror before him. A careful smoothing of his hair and a practiced smile later, he strode down to the great hall to attend the final banquet.

The enticing smell of dinner met him as he exited the dungeon stairwell and wandered through the grand oak doors of the great hall.

Immediately he caught sight of her. She was impossible to miss.

He took her in as he walked swiftly towards her, hoping to surprise her from behind. The back of her dress was a delicious sort of dangerously-low that he couldn't stop drinking in with his eyes. But before he had a chance to jump up on her from behind, she turned and caught him mid-approach. He would have been more disappointed about his foiled plans if the front of her weren't just as enticing as her back. She beamed brightly as he came up beside her.

"You look exquisite," he remarked.

"You think?" she asked, a tone of uncertainty in her voice. "I don't know, I think the back might be a bit low-"

"It's perfect. You look incredible." He drew a sharp breath as he took her in from up close. "Dare I say, even, the prettiest one here."

"Oh really? Prettier than you?" she said in a mockingly-surprised voice.

He scoffed dramatically. "Don't be ridiculous. I meant besides me. You know I only say that to make you feel better." They exchanged grins and she rolled her eyes routinely at him. He offered an arm to her. "Shall we?"

She accepted it obligingly, linking her arm through his, and they made their way to find their seats at the head table. The room around them seemed so concentrated in gold that, as they walked, it felt almost as if they were swimming in a molten ocean of it. Everything, from the stitching in the tablecloths, to the glittering lanterns, to the aurora in the night sky, glinted lavishly with the bright hue. Yet as Hermione smiled contentedly beside him, he thought that she outshined it all.

They found their seats quickly and waited as a steady stream of smartly dressed sixth and seventh years poured through the doors.

"Remind me again," she said, catching his attention. "Your mother…"

"Isn't coming. I asked her and she said she had other plans for that evening. But, between you and me, I think it's a load of rubbish. She probably just doesn't feel comfortable coming out to a public event. Not that I can blame her, but still, she didn't need to lie about it." Hermione nodded, her lips pursed tightly, evidently deep in thought. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," she said, too quickly. His eyebrows raised slightly but he didn't push the matter. He felt as though he knew what was bothering her without confirmation. Her parents weren't going to be there either. Taking her hint, he said nothing and instead reached a hand over to take hers reassuringly in his. They sat silently together as the six o'clock hour grew steadily closer.

The time passed quickly and soon parents were taking seats next to their children at the long house tables before them. McGonagall made the same introductory speech, the one Draco had nearly memorized by the sixth evening, and then, with what was turning out to be her signature wand wave of whimsy, bid them to begin eating the food that appeared seconds later.

He and Hermione, though in charge of every other aspect of each of the evenings, had not been charged to assign food for any of the evenings. However, the house elves had done a particularly good job matching the theme of the evening with the fare that was served. Unusually sumptuous preparations appeared before them in the form of luxurious steaks, julienned vegetables, risottos, salads, and chowders. Draco helped himself to some of everything. The last time he remembered having food as extravagant as what lay before him was several years back, before the dark lord had returned, when his father used to host fabulous dinner parties.

He was eyeing his still quite loaded plate of food disdainfully with an uncomfortably distended stomach, wishing his appetite had not betrayed him so, when the time came for the parents to head on their way for a tour of the castle. As head boy and girl, he and Hermione were not required to go and instead remained to hang about the great hall in the group's absence. The benefit of working so hard before hand to plan the whole event was that now, no one expected anything of them. The prefects not guiding tours about the castle set about rearranging tables and setting out gift bags which left them free to simply sit and talk with McGonagall at the head table.

They bantered and joked lightheartedly, sharing some particularly interesting planning sessions with the headmistress to pass the hour. When the desserts popped up in anticipation of the tour returns, he and Hermione excused themselves to the tables laden with sweets to sneak a few treats. They found also, on a glittering table nearby, champagne glasses labeled clearly with a sign that said "Please drink responsibly," which he felt particularly keen to ignore. They toasted genteelly and sipped on the bubbly beverages slowly.

Hermione had refilled their glasses for the fourth time by the time all the tours had returned. The slight drowsiness that came with mild intoxication was starting to buzz in his ears as they stood together towards the corner of the room. He was in the process of attempting to woo the drink away from her- as her words had begun to slur slightly- whispering in her ear and running his fingers down her arm, when a slight sound from behind pulled his attention away from his endeavor.

Draco's turn found him staring at the pale, thin face of none other than Narcissa Malfoy. He paled immediately as he whirled about, extricating his arm from about Hermione's waist and nearly dropping his stemmed glass. He could almost feel Hermione tensing behind him.

"Mother!" he said, trying his best to disguise both the slight draw and panic in his voice. "I wasn't expecting to see you tonight."

"I wasn't originally planning to be in attendance," she said in a cool, almost imperceptibly sharp tone as her eyes raked obtrusively over the girl behind him. Her face twitched and he noticed that features had tightened slightly. She turned her attention back on him, a faux gracious smile plastered on her lips. "But I thought I might come surprise you."

"Well, I'm very surprised." He stood awkwardly between his mother and Hermione, unsure of where to move or what to do. "Uh, mother, this is-" but Narcissa cut him off abruptly.

"Miss Granger. Yes. I recognize her." He heard Hermione clear her throat behind him.

"Nice to see you Mrs. Malfoy." His fists clenched defensively as his mother stared coldly at Hermione, who now stood at his side.

"Indeed," his mother said cryptically, cocking an eyebrow. He noticed the dangerous calm invade her tone when she spoke next. "I do hope I haven't interrupted anything?"

"No," he shot quickly. "Not at all."

He felt Hermione shift at his side. "I think I'm going to go check on the fifth year prefects. It was very nice to see you again Mrs. Malfoy."

Narcissa inclined her head in what Draco recognized as false courtesy and stared icily at Hermione as she walked away. Moments later, she turned the same look of cool disapproval on him. Anger surged through him and his stance instantly became more rigid under the judgmental stare. It was a look strikingly reminiscent of his father.

"I trust you are still focused on your school work and not on other things?" she said, catching accusingly on the second to last word. Draco grit his teeth.

"Yes."

"I should hope so," she said pointedly. "It would not do for you to become distracted before your exams."

Draco was livid. He'd never seen his mother act like this. It truly was as if her gaze and tone had been substituted with his father's.

"Hermione and I-" but she had cut him off almost as soon as he began.

"We'll discuss this later," she hissed dangerously. That would suit him just fine. "Before I depart, I came to pass on a message from your father." Draco could feel his knuckles turning white. Lucius Malfoy was about the last person he wanted to hear anything from at the moment. "He wanted you to know that if all goes well, he's looking forward to seeing you this summer after you've graduated."

"Lovely," Draco said with ill-disguised contempt. "Is that all?"

"Yes, I should think so. I need to be getting back to the manor. I think I left some of my paints open in the drawing room." This was a blatant lie, of course. His mother was far too particular to ever let something like that happen. There was little she loathed more than loose ends.

"Guess I'll be seeing you then."

He regarded her coldly as she gave a curt, pretentious bow and turned swiftly to go, disappearing quickly among the crowd. Draco unclenched his sore fists and massaged his tender fingers gently. Still seething, he took off to look for Hermione.

When he came to the place he was expecting her to be, he instead found a fifth year Hufflepuff prefect eyeing the champagne table suspiciously. "Don't even think about it, Davis." The boy turned to him, looking sheepish.

But where was Hermione? If she wasn't manning the champagne table for potential abusers like Davis, where had she gone?

When another search of the room yielded nothing, he wandered out into the entrance hall looking for any sign of her. He wandered the corridors for a while, finally finding her in a hallway not far from the Gryffindor common room. She was sitting, legs tucked up under her long gown with her head and arms resting on her knees, on the windowsill of the same nook that she'd led him to earlier in the year. The same one where she'd first granted him a second chance.

The first thing he noticed were the lines of tears on her cheeks. He approached somberly.

"You okay?"

She said nothing but simply continued to stare resolutely out of the window. He sat down, his shoulders hunched, on the exposed bit of windowsill beyond the hem of her dress and looked her over.

"I'm sorry about…" he paused, unsure of how he should describe the disaster that was his mother's unexpected visit. "…All that." Her eyes shifted momentarily from the window towards him and then straight back again.

"I've never seen her like that. She's never been so hostile. I don't know what's come over her."

"Well that's not so hard to figure out, is it? I'm sure even your mother's worst nightmares don't have you running your fingers over a mudblood." Draco flinched as if the word had physically hit him. The way the word sounded on her tongue was like the awful sound of metal grating against metal, like caustic soundwaves tearing at his inner ear.

"First of all, let's get one thing clear, I never want to hear that awful word again. So you can just delete it from your extensive vocabulary because you won't be needing it anymore. Secondly, while that's probably a part of it, as I'm sure she still hasn't entirely gotten over the whole blood purity thing, honestly, I still wouldn't expect anything like what she acted like tonight. She's not like that. She's always been a supportive mother, solely interested in whatever it is that makes me happy. I think she was just startled."

"Well, whatever she thinks, she's not the only one I have to worry about," Hermione shot accusingly. Draco's eyebrows furrowed and he gaped at her in astonishment.

"Surely you don't think I give a damn what she thinks about us?"

"Actually, I do." Hermione turned to look at him finally. Both her tone and expression were sharp and hurt had etched its way into her features.

"Well then you can get that thought out of your pretty little head right now, Granger, because I don't. Not when it comes to you." His hands found hers even as she pulled them away from him and he searched her uncertain eyes. "She doesn't know a thing about you. Doesn't know that you're the single greatest thing to ever happen to me. That no one has ever made me as alive as you do. That you're so far beyond any standard she could ever have that if she knew you she'd be begging you to take me. So no. I couldn't care less about whatever skewed opinion she has of you."

Then, with a sound of disgust, he rose and began pacing. "Especially not after this stunt. Waltzing in like she's my father in cross-dress and acting as though the right sneer will intimidate me into repentance for an alleged sin. Well, I have news for her because I have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. If I want to kiss Hermione Granger, I'm going to kiss Hermione Granger!"

The declaration echoed down through the empty stone corridor. Draco wondered absentmindedly if they could hear him downstairs. Surely the entirety of the Gryffindor dormitory had, but this didn't bother Draco in the slightest. They already knew anyways.

The slightest traces of a smile pulled at the edges of her lips. Draco sat down again, pulling her into a comforting embrace.

"I don't want anyone to convince us that we can't be together. There's nothing anyone could tell me that would make me love you less."

She sighed against his chest, relinquishing her tensions and allowing herself to simply be held in his embrace. He breathed into her hair, pressing his lips to the top of her head. In the halls below them, Draco could hear the bustle of the evening dying down and she did not break away from him until long after their corridor had become silent.

Sitting back against the stone wall with a deep breath, she glanced at him with an almost nervous expression then murmured quietly, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he waived, sitting forwards and putting his elbows on his knees. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"But I do," she persisted, and he glanced over to see her expression adamant. "You've been nothing but genuine and heartfelt and all I've managed to do is doubt your sincerity. I want you to know that I do trust you. And I don't want anyone to tear us apart either. Though I seem to be doing a fair job of it myself." She smiled feebly. "I'll try to do better."

"Seriously, don't worry about it. If there's anyone who still owes anybody apologies it's me, so let's call it even because I have a lot more to make up for than you do." He moved then, rising from the windowsill and looking down the empty hallway. "It's been a long day. What say I walk you to your dormitory?"

She nodded when he looked at her and moved to get up, then, as if thinking better of it, adopted a ponderous expression and inquired, "Well, are you?"

He looked at her curiously, confused.

"Am I what?"

"Going to kiss Hermione Granger?" She batted her eyelashes innocently and Draco's lips spread into a devilish smirk.

"You know what? I think I will." Making true on his word, he swooped down, captured her lips with his, and kissed her over and over again as if he might never have the opportunity to do so again.

A/N: So, I'm not dead (except for on the inside maybe). Sorry for my latency, I'm really struggling with a few chapters beyond this one, so I've been trying to buy myself some time, but its just not coming out. Here's hoping I get it all sorted soon, though with my busy schedule, delays should be expected. Like I said, I won't leave you hanging indefinitely. Thank you in advance for your continued patience, I hope you will find the wait worthwhile.