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A Very Dramione Holiday	By : K_B_Lynne Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 19418 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of its characters or settings, they are the sole property of J K Rowling (duh). Oh, and I make no money for doing this. (again, duh)

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
I'm so sorry this chapter is so incredibly late, WEEKS late. BUT as they say, better late than never. I warn you now, this has not yet been proofed, but if/when I get around to it, I will proof it. For now I just want to get it up! Enjoy!

Chapter 2 - New Years Eve
Hermione was happy to leave the next morning. She avoided being alone with Draco, it was too… awkward. Instead, she focused on her Head Girl duties, getting the students loaded onto the train home. She was happy to sleep in her own bed again. Her own bed, in her parents home. Her childhood home. It’d taken some illegal use of magic at the beginning of the summer to convince the couple that had bought the home in her parents’ absence to give it up, but it was worth it.
The Grangers joined the Weasleys for the holiday. It’d been a beautiful Christmas, despite some mild awkwardness being around Ron. Their breakup had been mutual, and they were still friends, but she was sure it’d never be quite what it used to be. She spent the majority of the holiday at home with her parents, though. As happy as she was to see all her friends who had become family to her, the time spent away from her parents had devastated her, and she was spending every moment she could making up for that lost time.
As the new year, approached, though, Hermione decided it’d be best to accept the invitation to the Ministry of Magic’s New Year Benefit Ball. She, Ron, Harry, Ginny, and most of their other friends who’d participated in the Battle of Hogwarts were to attend. The proceeds would go to the many witches and wizards who’d lost their homes, businesses, and loved ones in the last couple of years, as well as honoring those who fought to end such destruction. It was a great cause, and she could bare to be away from her parents for one night.
Hermione and Ginny had gone out shopping, just the two of them, for new gowns. The experience had been, to say the least, strange. When they arrived at the shop where they were to buy their gowns, the owner closed up the store so that they could shop privately. While Hermione found this wildly unnecessary, she was grateful for the protection from the media, who followed them around to no end whenever they were out in public.
Before they knew it, Hermione was being fitted for a custom made gown. She’d never even understood the definition of couture until now, much less did she ever think she’d own something so precious and valuable. It was black, floor length, with a small train and a slit cut a few inches above the knee over her left leg. The entire dress was peppered with gemstones, and thousands more were embroidered from the waist up to the strapless sweetheart neckline.
Ginny picked something off the rack (the owner had offered her a custom gown as well, but Ginny had already fallen in love with the dress in the display window), so she had hers custom tailored to her body, at no extra charge.
In the end, they hadn’t been allowed to pay for their dresses at all.
“Nonsense, put your money away, it’s no good here. Consider this my thank you for your service and sacrifice, dears,” the aging designer and shop owner said as the girls went to pay.
And that was only the beginning of a day that continued much like that. They shopped for shoes, and received free matching clutch purses. And by the time Hermione returned home, there was a package waiting for her. Inside, there were several heavy velvet boxes, the kind that contained only the most valuable jewels. A note revealed their owner, and that she was to pick which pieces she wished to wear to the benefit ball. She and her mother gushed over the glittering diamonds laid in gold and silver alike. In the end, she’d chosen a vintage silver and diamond choker, one she didn’t even want to guess at the value of, and a pair of white gold snowflake diamond earrings to match.
When the group of friends arrived at the venue, the most beautiful ballroom she’d ever seen, putting even the Yule Ball to shame, Hermione understood very quickly what all the fuss about what she wore was about. This was, by definition, a red carpet event, and everything she had on, from her shoes to her gown to her jewelry, was advertisement for the places she’d gotten them from.
It was a little embarrassing, having to stop and take pictures, to remember the names of the places she’d received the pieces of her outfit from, and be shown off for the whole wizarding world to see by the morning’s paper. She was happily to finally get inside, where people were paying much less attention to her. Of course they all turned their attention to Harry, who she was with. But, Ginny seemed to be enjoying the limelight on his arm.
Hermione greeted familiar faces in the crowd, and headed off to the buffet to see if there was anything decent to eat. She was feeling incredibly out of her element.
Ron Weasley, alternatively, was basking in the limelight. He was wearing the best dress robes - without lace or moth smell or anything! - complete with mauve underline and his auror badge. He'd come with a date, Romilda Vane, who was interning in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and she was completely done up after a trip with Ginny for a dress (the same shop she and Hermione had gone to), new shoes, and jewels. She hadn't gotten the kind of preferential treatment Hermione and Ginny had gotten, but she'd loved the attention.
"I can't fucking believe it," He went on to Harry, scowling profusely around the hors'deurves in his mouth as they stood at the buffet. "Just look at them, no bloody shame, walking around like they bloody well belong."
He was speaking, of course, about the Malfoys. Lucius Malfoy was nowhere to be seen, of course, but Narcissa and Draco Malfoy were wandering the edges of the ballroom, examining the items on silent auction. Narcissa was currently examining a dress from a fine boutique set up as an example for some kind of free fitting and dress, while the ferret himself was filing out the clipboard for the bidding. The bloody Death Eaters didn't belong at something like this. They should have been locked away in a hole somewhere, not free.
Hermione approached the men, just in time to hear Ron’s small rant. “Says the guy who signed off on the paperwork,” Hermione pointed out as she filled a small cup with punch. “And need I remind you, again, that Draco didn’t choose that life, he was born into it. It’s no more his fault than it is yours for being one of seven children.” She picked up a mini quiche, and took a bite.
"Yeah, well..." Ron groused after swallowing his mouthful. "I still don't know how you convinced me to do that." He returned almost lamely, even though he almost knew. They'd shagged, yes, but he wasn't sure how that had turned into him signing Malfoy's parole papers.
Hermione, who normally would have blushed just at the thought, had to hid a smug grin over the rim of her glass, sipping her punch. Harry Potter, who was as perceptive as ever, did not miss the exchange.
“Do I even want to know?” He directed the question to Hermione, since she was the one looking so smug, but she gave him a “I don’t know what you’re talking about” look, so he turned instead to Ron, expecting some sort of answer, though hopefully not details.
Ron shrugged. "I was complaining about it to her a couple days ago. Bloody ferret has the nerve to apply for..." He made a groan and shook his head.
"But then we, well..." He glanced to Hermione, trying to pick his words, and shrugged again. "Well, y'know." He gestured vaguely to Hermione, and turned his eyes back on his plate, stuffing a few more of the delicate tidbits in his mouth.
Harry was genuinely surprised to hear it. He didn’t take Hermione for the sex outside of a relationship kind of girl. But, then again, they had had sex outside of a relationship… Not that anyone, much less Ron, knew that.
“What can I say? I can be very persuasive,” she told Harry with a shameless smile. Harry returned her look with a curious one. Hermione sighed and put down the remaining half of her quiche on a beverage napkin. “Listen, I’m not going to sit here and tell you guys that Draco deserves this, but I can honestly say I think he needs it. He needs to know that his life didn’t end at the age of seventeen, that he’s not going to be marked with his juvenile mistakes for the rest of his life.”
Harry nodded his understanding. “I can understand that.” He looked at Ron, wondering if he’d pull his head out of his arse long enough to understand as well.
"True," Ron seemed to agree, nodding in a seemingly remarkable show of reasonable logic. "He was sixteen." He added, ending the brief illusion as he pointed at Hermione with one of his finger foods, as if saying 'ha!'.
"He took the bloody dark mark, you two. That's going to stay with him! Never mind he was bloody well bound for it, wasn't he? A Malfoy and a Slytherin to boot? Might as well have been born with the fucking thing!" He tried to reason with his friends, because surely they weren't taking the ferret's side.
“All the more reason,” Hermione retorted. “He was sixteen years old. Not even old enough to make big life decisions like that. Not old enough to get married. Not old enough to apparate. So why should he be old enough to be a pariah?”
Harry could sense that this was about to turn into something, and he sighed, sipping his drink and waiting for the inevitable.
"Because he is one, 'Mione." Ron sighed, as if it were a very simple concept to grasp and she was failing to do so. "He judged every last bloody person he met for things beyond our control." He pointed out as well, as if to make his case. "You more than anyone! So why are you defending the git all of a sudden?"
“And if he’s offended me, that’s my place to forgive him, and you don’t get to judge me for that decision. I’ve been living with him since September, Ronald. He’s changed. I’ve seen it.” She kept her voice down, well aware that the Malfoy himself was in the room, somewhere. She was afraid to check where exactly.

"Yeah?" Ron replied speculatively, scowling. "And what's he got on you that you're saying that, huh? Bad test score or something?" This was why they would never work out, he thought. They just never really saw eye to eye.
“Low test score,” Hermione sighed sarcastically. “Don’t make me laugh.” As if she’d ever gotten a low test score. “Seriously, Ron, without all the pressure of trying to please his father, or, anyone, for that matter, he’s actually a pretty cool guy.” He could still be an ass on occasion, but it lacked it’s previous malice.
"Bloody hell, Hermione." Ron scowled, shaking his head. "He's a slimy git! Why do you keep defending him? Are you shagging the bloke or something?" He shook his head incredulously and with plenty of distaste. As if that would ever happen…
Hermione’s face flushed slightly, something that, again, did not go unnoticed by Harry. She recovered quickly though. “If I was shagging Malfoy, it certainly wouldn’t be any of your business. Plus, it’d only be testament to everything I just told you.”
Harry sighed, dropping his head. That was not going to go over well with Ron, not even in the hypothetical.
Ron scowled, dropping the little quiche that had been halfway to his mouth back onto his plate and lower it. "What, been putting some bloody thought to it?" He asked snappishly, squaring his shoulders for a fight with the woman who loved to argue. "Or maybe you already have, since you're goin' on about all this?" He accused without remorse. Without fail, Malfoy was the one topic to always make him fuck up.
Hermione just laughed at the challenge he presented. “And what if I did, Ron?” She stared at him defiantly, waiting to see what he was going to say. “What if I did have sex with Draco Malfoy?” She kept her voice down, not wanting everyone to hear their highly inappropriate holiday conversation.
Ron seemed to blanch for a moment, but that moment wasn't taken to think about his words. It was spent in disgust at the possibility. "Then he'd be using you." The red head snarled, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists. "Like the whore that would make you."
The smile Hermione wore in response was a dangerous one, one that came with silent warnings. She nodded slowly and continuously. “Yes, that’s exactly right, Ron. I’m a whore.” The nodding ceased. “Says the man who’s here with a girl who nearly got you killed just to hook up with your best friend.”
Harry sighed as Ginny found them, wrapping his arm around her waist.
“Why are you a whore?” Ginny asked curiously, having missed the majority of the conversation while in the loo.
Hermione turned to Ginny with a smile, happy to be able to answer that question. “Well, your brother, here, is under the impression that the only reason anyone would ever have anything nice to say about Draco Malfoy is that they’re sleeping with him, and the only reason a girl would ever sleep with Malfoy would be because she’s a whore. Therefore, I’m a whore, and I’m sleeping with Malfoy.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head.
"Wait, who's a whore?" Neville interjected, appearing as he reached past Hermione to refill his punch, looking among the former DA members gathered.
"Apparently any girl who says something nice about Malfoy?" Ginny could hardly disguise the chuckle in her voice at her brother's convoluted logic, as much as it irritated her. "According to Ron, anyway."
"Just girls?" Neville clarified, looking at the red head, who was doing an excellent impersonation of a fish and a tomato all at once. "What if I said something nice? Does that make me a whore?" He asked, raising a brow and chuckling at his own humor. "Bloke did save some of our arses last year, warning us about the Carrows."
Hermione smiled at the tall thin dark blonde haired young man. “Well said, Neville. We can be Malfoy liking whores together.” Who’d have thought that sentence would ever be spoken. She turned back to Ron. “I’m not sure what you’re more mad about. The idea of me with Malfoy, or the idea of me having sex with anyone who’s not you.”
"We could always find out, eh?" Neville offered with a playful wink, draping an arm around Hermione's shoulders. Ron gaped, turning even redder as his stare turned into a glare. "Nothing to say? Alright, sounds like the go ahead!" He grinned, playing at beginning to pull Hermione away.
The whole thing was just so random and funny and unexpected, Hermione couldn’t help but laugh, loudly, and pulled Neville back to the group by the hand he’d pulled her with. “Ron’s just a sourpuss tonight,” she said, making a pouty face at her ex. “Honestly, Ron, it’s just a party. Have a drink or two, lighten up.” Then again, that was the same formula that’d landed her in bed with Draco just over a week ago.
Ron wasn't taking it lightly though, abandoning his plate in favor of a drink. He stared at it, before turning and storming away at last. Neville laughed in the red head's wake.
"I guess he's too heavy?" The dark haired man offered with a shrug, grinning and taking a long drink of his own punch. "I'm sorry, that was bloody terrible, wasn't it? This punch is good, mates." He snickered, shaking his head.
Hermione waited until Ron was gone to burst into a fit of laughter. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know this makes me a bad person, but that was just too funny. And I think there’s something in this punch,” Hermione said, holding up the clear cup to examine its contents. If the punch was all Neville had had, she was almost certain it must be spiked.
"Hey, it's not a party until someone's wand fires off unexpectedly." Neville beamed a little sloppily.
"We should probably avoid that." Ginny offered with a wary grin, contemplating taking the drink from Neville at the very least. But it was a party. She grabbed a cup for herself and slid Harry's from his hand, leaning over the table to fill both before passing one back to her wonderful boyfriend.
"You handled that really well, Hermione." The redhead added conversationally, raising a brow. "I really thought you'd have slapped him silly for something like that?" It was a question, a subtle one. Why hadn't she?
Hermione blushed deeper then than she had at the initial accusation. It’d be one thing if he’d been wrong…
“I’m going to head to the ladies room. Ginny?” Sure, Ginny was just in there, but she was hoping that Ginny was catching her “we need to talk” drift.
Oh, this was bound to be good. "Sure thing," Ginny replied, repressing a smirk and ignoring the confused look of the men around them as she followed.
When they were far enough away from the men, and she was sure no one was paying attention to them, Hermione turned to her closest girlfriend. “I slept with Draco.” She blurted the words out quickly, not wanting to chicken out. As soon as the words were out, she looked around to see if anyone seemed to have heard.
Ginny had to stop on the spot at the shock of the news. Hermione and Draco, really?
Well, she owed Blaise ten Galleons.
Ginny took Hermione's wrist and pulled her into the loo, closing the door behind them and checking for other women. They were alone.
"You slept with Draco?" She finally repeated, shock still evident in her tone, but a grin playing on her face. "Dish! Give me details!"
Hermione was nearly as red as Ginny's hair. But at the same time she was dying to talk about it with someone who wouldn't judge her. "I don't really know how it happened. We Went to the faculty Christmas party together, and there was drinking, and mistletoe, and..." She sighed with embarrassment. "I mean, I don't regret it, but... We haven't even seen or talked to each other since, only about Head stuff, and... I don't know, Ginny, I don't do one night stands, it's just, weird." She sighed.
It was a silly thing to be worried about, in Ginny's opinion. But, she understood it from Hermione's standpoint. She didn't want to feel used, or like the whore her brother accused her of being.
"Well, how do you feel?" She ventured, trying to be understanding. "I mean weird, I get that. It is Draco. But how do you feel? About it? About him?" It was one thing to not regret a one night stand. It was another if she wanted to do it again, or if it had brought out repressed feelings for the dashing rich boy.
Hermione sighed. "I don't know, I don't know. I mean, it was an amazing night." She leaned back into the counter, her hands holding onto the ledge behind her. "What I remember of it, anyways. We were both pretty... sloshed. And... I'm pretty sure I initiated?" Her voice rang with question and uncertainty. "Oh, Ginny, what mess did I get myself into?" she turned around and pressed her forehead against the mirror in despair. "He's gotta think I'm such a slag," she groaned.
Ginny frowned, coming up behind her friend and wrapping her arms around her shoulders in a loose hug. "Oh, sweetie," She sighed. "You're fine. I bet Draco thinks no worse of you for it." She tried to assure the older woman. "In fact, I'm positive he doesn't."
Hermione rolled her eyes, but picked her head up and leaned into Ginny’s small embrace. “Well, maybe not, but what about how I think of myself? I mean, I always thought I’d be with one man for the rest of my life, not three.” She said, before tensing up, realizing she’d actually exposed that she had a third lover.
"Three?" Ginny repeated scandalously, and grinned at Hermione in the mirror. "Start talking, Granger." Was all she said, because it was all she needed to say.
Hermione turned around to face Ginny, frowning. “Only if you promise not to be mad at me.” It was Ginny’s boyfriend they were talking about here, even if Ginny didn’t yet know it.
"Merlin, why would I be mad?" She asked, amused. "Come on, just tell me, Hermione. I promise I won't tell."
Hermione hung her head for a moment, and then took a deep breath. “I didn’t lose my virginity to Ron. I lost it..” she sighed, before once again blurting the truth out, quick like a bandaid. “To Harry.” She winced, expecting a negative response from the man’s girlfriend.
Ginny blinked at Hermione for a moment, before pulling away. "Oh." She said simply at first, just... surprised. Harry hadn't told her about this, and that was a little irksome, but...
"When you guys were on the run, right?" She asked, as if to clarify, nodding. "That... Kind of makes sense, I s'pose." They were alone, afraid, their lives on the line, and she and Harry had been separated, after all.
Hermione nodded in confirmation. “I’m sorry, Gin. I know we shouldn’t have but, it just kind of happened. The only reason we even did it was for warmth. We were freezing to death, Gin. Literally.” She couldn’t help but feel bad.
Ginny shook her head, waving a hand in the air. "No, no, Hermione." She cut off the rambling woman. "It's fine. Really." She tried to assure her, and smiled. "I didn't exactly expect Harry to stay faithful while we were broken up, you know. I'm just surprised he didn't tell me. Here I've been feeling guilty over seeing Blaise last year, too..."
Hermione's eyebrows rose at that information. "Oh, wow." She hasn't realize l realized. "Well, good." At least they were even, then. "So, you and Blaise, huh? How did that come about?"
Ginny shrugged almost non-chalantly. "Well, he and Draco spent a lot of last year keeping tabs on the Carrows for us, hide the students who might get badly hurt, that kind of stuff." She explained, turning to the mirror and combing a hand through her hair to fix it up a little.
"One night, Carrow, the brother, he caught me out after hours and tried chasing me down for 'punishment'." As a Weasley, she'd learned quickly it was best to avoid punishment. The only person who'd gotten worse was Neville. "But, Blaise saw me running and dragged me into a broom cupboard until the coast was clear. When he was gone... Well, I guess it was the adrenaline, or something. We just kind of..." She chuckled and gave a half grin. "Well, did it. And it just kind of kept going from there."
Hermione chuckled. "Well, that's one way to stay safe," she stated without judgement. "I... I didn't realize that Draco did that." That was one hell of a secret to keep. It wad the exact opposite of incriminating. Maybe his change had stayed sooner than she'd realized.
"Oh, yeah." Ginny nodded. "It was very... quiet. He was more of a ring leader, I guess you could say; tried not to draw too much attention to his own involvement." Draco had had a lot to lose by helping so many of them, it was understandable that he'd been more focused on dishing out orders.
Ginny played with her hair another moment, before looking at Hermione directly. "He used to ask about you guys." She decided to add after a moment. "He'd ask if I'd heard anything, if you were all okay. I never had an answer for him, but I think it helped him keep going. He really wanted Harry to win." No matter how people treated him now, Draco had known he was on the wrong side as a Death Eater. And his guilt over his own part in Dumbledore's death had fueled him more than a little.
Hermione was, to say the least, shocked by all that new information. Her heart was beating quickly, painfully in her chest. "Wow," she whispered.
"You should try and talk to him." Ginny said decidedly. "Even if it's... weird, you could at least clear the air with him about it all. You two have seemed really close this year, and you really shouldn't let one drunken slip up ruin that, if you ask me."
Hermione felt like running, running to him, running into his arms, and kissing him. She could see it playing out in her head. But then she feared he'd think she was mad, that he would share the same emotions she was feeling, and it terrified her. "Yeah, yeah, I should," she agreed with a nervous nod.
Ginny smiled, raising a brow at her friend, before stepping up to hug her. "Try not to look like a scared kitten when you do, though?" She suggested playfully. "Or do. He might like it." She added teasingly.
Hermione pouted. "Am I that a mess?" She questioned pitifully. She let out an uncharacteristic whine. "I'm going to make a fool of myself, aren't I?" She knew she was, because there was no way he was feeling the same as her right about now.
"No, you aren't." Ginny tried to coach her friend, smoothing out her dress for her. "You might stammer and blush and feel embarrassed, but you're not a fool." She grinned playfully. "It's not like you're proposing, dear. You're just going to talk to him. Have a drink first, do some bidding, relax. It might do you some good. It's New Years Eve; you've got time to pull yourself together."
Hermione took Ginny’s advice. It was nice to go mingle, have a few drinks, and take a lap around the tables where the silent auction items were on display. There, she found an original edition of a book she’d been hoping to get her hands on for years, something she’d only ever heard of, and wasn’t entirely sure was still in existence. It was a priceless artifact, and Hermione was tempted to put her whole savings into it if she had to. She was the first to put down the minimum bet, and hoped to Merlin no one else knew what it was.
But someone seemed to have noticed after all, and she found herself making multiple bids, increasing the minimum ten-fold. She was growing frustrated, and watched the table, but could never be certain who it was who was placing these bids against her. Didn’t they understand what a bookworm she was? What this old tome would mean to her? Hermione, by this point several drinks deep into the night, nearly melted an ice sculpture when her wand went off with colored sparks in her anger when she learned that the bidding had closed while she was in the restroom again.
She waited anxiously, not knowing if this mystery bidder had gotten to place a final bid after her, or if she would really go home with the tome in hand. She already couldn’t wait to sit down and begin decoding it from its original dialect. Her grip on her glass was white-knuckled when they called out the winners.
The results were, to say the least, disappointing. Devastating, more accurately. But what was even more frustrating was seeing Draco bloody Malfoy raise his hand to claim the anonymously won item. She saw red.
Hermione stormed across the ballroom, as best she could in her gown and high heels.
"What. The. Hell?"
Draco had, of course, seen her when she'd first arrived. Hermione, dressed her best, in heels and jewels and everything a woman could desire. She was more beautiful than ever, he knew it. And some part of him said that was just so wrong, and yet another was thrilled by it, wanted to drag her into the nearest cloak room and fuck her sideways.
He'd been watching her all night. Watched her apparent argument with Weasley, watched her disappear and reappear and flit about, drinking and bidding on various items.
The book had caught his eyes early on. The tome was well over two hundred years old, donated from some aged pureblood family he didn't doubt. It was a study of runes more ancient than Hogwarts could ever cover, written for only an enthusiast of the subject; completely encoded in rune script. He'd thought of Hermione immediately, but he couldn't say what had compelled him to put up a competing bid. But, as he checked through the night, he'd found himself with competition. Back and forth he'd gone with the other bidder for hours, before he'd managed to sneak in a final bid at the last second.
And, when his bidding number had been announced as the winner, he felt victorious, raising his hand and accepting the precious tome from one of the witches assisting with the auction.
And his victorious smirk faded swiftly when he heard Granger's voice. He turned, blinking at the feisty woman as she stormed towards him.
"Granger." He greeted her, folding the arm holding the tome into his chest, keeping it secure. "I see you found your fashion sense again tonight. What seems to be the problem?" He offered casually, despite her obviously angry demeanor.
Hermione pointed furiously at the book he held. “The problem? The problem is that you knew I wanted that book, my name was right there, alternating repeatedly against your number, you ass,” she screeched in her frustration, poking his shoulder heard to punctuate the name.
Draco scowled, swatting her hand away with his free one and taking half a step back from the woman. "Stop jabbing me, you bloody swot!" He snapped, holding the book at an angle to keep it out of the path of her fury. "Bloody hell, don't have a fit, Granger! It's just a damn auction!" He'd been hoping to hide this, but they'd insisted on picking out in the crowd and putting the damn book in his hands now. Weren't they supposed to mail these things or something?
Hermione scowled at him, but it turned into a pout. She was moderately drunk. “It’s not just an auction, Draco, it’s the book! I’d surrender years off my life for that book.” Perhaps that was an exaggeration, but it was how she felt in the moment. “Why would you deliberately out bid me like that?” He might have used an anonymous voter’s number, but she’d used her number and name, not having anything to hide in her bid.
He wasn't sure if it was guilt, or because she looked so bloody adorable when she pouted, or maybe it was because she wanted it so badly. But, whatever the reason, something in him just... snapped.
"Fucking hell woman, it's for you!" He growled at her in a low voice, shoving it into her hands. "I was bidding on it for you, alright!"
Hermione was perplexed when the book entered her hands, so much so that she almost dropped it, almost.
“What? For me?” Her voice shrunk, just like she felt she was doing. Merlin this book was heavy… “Why?”
There was no proper answer for that, not one Draco could think of anyways. Or maybe it was simply that there were too many answers for that question. He wasn't sure.
"It's a charity auction, you silly bint." He sniffed at her at first, crossing his arms and staring down his pointed nose at her, frowning. "I still have more funds to donate wth."
He turned his head away from her, and let that hang in the air. But, the anger he knew she would lash out with, or maybe guilt, who could guess, made him speak again, with a flush to his cheeks and a softness to his tone.
"Plus..." He sighed. "If they hadn't insisted on calling me out... I was going to surprise you with it when we got back to school." Deep down, he'd wanted to see the smile on her face in private, to enjoy it, savor it. "I knew before I even bid you'd want your hands on it." In all honesty, he hadn't noticed her name on the paper, just kept upping his bids. He'd realized he had competition, but not that it was her.
Hermione stared at him in stunned silence for a moment, and then broke her gaze, looking around them. There was a table next to Draco, one of the tall kind that were only ever seen at events such as these, for eating while standing. He had his drink and a plate of snacks sitting atop it, but she ignored those and gently laid the book beside them.

Then, with her hands free, Hermione leaned up, one hand still on the table, the other sliding up around the back of his neck, holding the back of his head as she brought him down to meet her lips. She didn’t care who saw.
There was a lot of things Draco expected when she reached out to him, given their history. But, when her soft, full lips met his, he was left to stand there in shock. She was a Muggleborn, a war hero, and he was a pureblood, a Death Eater... Everything he'd known, the man his father had raised him to be, it all screamed at him to push her away, to flee. Her friends would kill him, it would devastate his mother, kill his father -
Though, that last one might not be so terrible...
His moment of shock finally passed, and he responded in a way that was all too natural for him. An arm around her waist, a hand curling in her hair, and he kissed her back, firm and deep and bruising, claiming as he pulled the witch firmly against him, groaning into her wonderful kiss. She was so beautiful, so sexy and talented and intelligent and just amazing. No matter what he was trained to believe.
It was easy to get caught up in this moment, but the familiar voice of an old rival caught her ear.
“Oh my…” it purred with a calm smugness. “Well this is interesting.”
Hermione’s lips broke from Draco’s slowly, reluctantly. She sighed, looking away to regain her breath before finally turning to the curly haired blonde with the cateye glasses.
“Mind your own business, this is a private event.” How did this gossip hungry beetle get in here, anyway? She hoped the Ministry had more sense than to invite her.
Draco's hands fell to his side, stunned, as his mind caught up to the situation. He swayed slightly on the spot, then turned his eyes onto the interaction; this just didn't bode well. He recalled all too well the crap Rita Skeeter had written about Hermione in their fourth year; he'd been one of her sources, after all. But, he didn't know how to diffuse the moment; it wasn't like he was in the position he was then, to influence the paper.
"Miss Skeeter," The voice that interrupted was instead female, cool but almost friendly in the way pureblooded women so often were. "How delightful to see you! No one told me you'd be here, dear."
Narcissa Malfoy appeared at her son's shoulder, with a rather charming smile on her pale face. She looked tired, but she was dressed eloquently in shades of silver and pale blues with heels to bring her nearly to Draco's height. She stepped up, greeting her former schoolmate as if an old friend.
"How have you been, dear? Staying out of trouble, I should hope?" The final line was clipped, edged with something like a warning that made Draco shiver minutely. His mother was a dreadful, unforgiving socialite; she was well-connected through friendships that the war couldn't hope to break, and it made her a dangerous person to have against you in many fields.
Hermione sighed in relief, not a response she expected to feel when approached by the Malfoy matriarch. She felt a sudden urge to flee, to take Draco with her, as well. She nearly forgot about the tome. She pulled out her wand and put a ward around the object, preventing anyone from being able to pick it up, move it, take it. She put up a second to protect it from food or drink spills. Then, she linked her arm with Draco’s.
“Come with me,” she told him softly, hoping they could sneak away unnoticed. It was nearing midnight, but it was the furthest thing from her mind. She began to pull him away, where to she wasn’t sure, as long as it was somewhere private.
Draco was thrown for a loop again by Hermione's actions, but he followed her anyways, keeping pace just at her heels as she dragged him along. "Bloody hell," He finally managed words. Hermione had kissed him, his mother had helped them escape Rita Skeeter...
Tonight was not turning out how he expected. Though, somewhere in the ballroom, two individuals were watching them, and a bag of coins changed hands, with a victorious smirk from one of them.
"What's gotten into you, Granger?" He had to ask, shocked but not displeased with the events of the last few minutes.
Hermione bit her lip, trying to find somewhere to take him, and the only thing she could think of was the coat check room, which, she realized, would probably require jinxing the sweet young woman who was running it. Se la vie, she’d be fine in the long run.
She sighed, pausing to answer his question. “I just, want to talk to you, alone.”
A flick of her wrist sent the girl to sleep on her counter, and another unlocked the door. She pulled Draco in with her, until finally, at long last, they were alone.
Draco closed the door behind them, flicking the latch to lock it for the added privacy. He stared at her, trying to make heads or tails of the situation. Her pupils were dilated, her cheeks slightly flushed...
"You've been drinking." He guessed surely. He had as well, but he already knew he handled his liquor better than Hermione did. "You sure want to be alone given... last time?" Sure, the aftermath had been awkward, but she had been the one avoiding the topic and him both on the way to the train and during the ride. Not the other way around.
Hermione sighed, nibbling her bottom lip nervously. “That’s… exactly why I want to be alone this time,” she answered him. She wasn’t nearly as drunk as she’d been last time, and she was perfectly aware of the decision she was making. She was also painfully aware that if she didn’t make another move now, she was going to chicken out.
Draco raised a brow at the woman, and tried to decipher what she meant, and came up with many potential answers. He took a step closer to her, closing the gap between them and letting his icey blue eyes bore into her dark ones.
"Is that so?" He said in a soft, low voice, cocking his head at her. "And just what does this have to do with last time, hmm?" He asked, just to make her sweat a bit.
Hermione blushed furiously at their close proximity, and rather than answer, she leaned in, closing the small gap between them and kissing him once more. Her arms went up around his neck, fingertips toying with the hair on the back of his head. He was a gorgeous man, she’d found it very hard to ignore that as of late.
Draco kissed her back, softly at first. He'd hardly been able to savor her last time, and he hadn't even expected a second... anything, really. The Pensieve copy of the memories had been enough for him to cherish.
But he didn't cherish the tender kiss as long as he might have liked to. His arm went around her waist again, his free hand cradling the back of her neck as he stepped forward, backing Hermione into the nearest wall. His tongue swept across her lips, demanding more access silently. This was no place for affection; she just needed a fix, and knew he was willing to get it.
Hermione surrendered control to him, ready and willing to make bad life choices once again. Because she knew, now, that he cared about her. Maybe he wasn’t in love with her, and that was okay, but he cared, and that was good enough for her right now. A soft moan escaped her as she felt his hands move about her body.
But, her thoughts got to the best of her, and she broke the kiss prematurely, arms still around his neck.
“I just need to know one thing,” she started, gasping for breath.
Draco didn't dare open his eyes, for some fear, deep inside of him, of waking up from a wonderful dream. "Pretty sure you know more than one," He half chuckled, half panted quietly, leaning his forehead against hers. But, he shook his head.
"Ask away..."
Unsure of what precisely she wanted to ask, Hermione hesitated, smoothing her hands down his shoulders and over his lapels, resting them finally on his chest.
“I’m not imagining this, am I? I didn’t get my wires crossed somewhere along the way tonight. You, you do have, I don’t know, some sort of feelings for me?” And here she was, standing there like a scared little kitten, making a fool of herself.
Draco breathed deeply, and sighed heavily, letting his eyes flutter open. "You've always got to ask the hard questions, don't you, Granger?" He asked in soft tones, laced with emotions he couldn't - and didn't want to identify.
"You already know you've got me all upside down." He reminded her. "You defy everything I was ever told from the day I was born. You fascinate me in ways I can't even understand. We went over that, remember?" He closed his eyes, pulling her closer to him that wasn't sexual, but more to feel her there.
"Needless to say... I don't really have an answer for you."
Hermione frowned, growing even more nervous now. He was right, they had talked about that, and she hardly remembered it. But Merlin did it feel good, just having his hands on her, in such an innocent way, even.
“I just want to know that I’m not being used.” He had been known as a bit of a womanizer in the past, not that it was something she held against him. He was a Slytherin, and they were famous, sometimes infamous, for being able to get their way.
"See, I would have thought you were using me." Draco chuckled, a flimsy smirk curling onto his lips. He kissed her again, softly this time, briefly.
"If it helps any," He continued after breaking the chaste kiss. "I've never bought gifts for a girl. Or gone for the double effect, since those Galleons went to war charities." And part of why he’d brought the price so high because he thought she'd love seeing his money put to good use, for one.
The tenderness of the kiss made her smile. “I’m the first, huh?” she asked, a slight teasing in her voice. “I suppose I should count myself lucky then?” It was a load off of Hermione, to hear things like that. Even if he didn’t seem capable of vocalizing his feelings at the moment, he was doing a good job of showing them.
Draco let out a short chuckle, pressing her back into the wall, not caring that they were buried in the hanging cloaks, hidden from sight. "Anymore tough questions, Granger?" He asked airily, a little irate at the question itself. It just wasn't the sort of thing he could answer.
Hermione could sense his irritation, and bit her lip, this time on purpose, hoping to come off cute, innocent, maybe a little sexy.
“Just one. How can I thank you? For the book, I mean?” She hadn’t yet thanked him, she’d yelled at him, poked him, and kissed him, but she’d yet to thank him, and it was a little overdue.
Draco's eyes were captivated by that lip, the way she worried over it with her teeth. It worked; she was adorable, and sexy, and he felt his cock twitching to life between them.
"Mmm..." He hummed softly, enjoying the very thoughts of what that mouth might be capable of. "Just keep doing what you're doing, Granger." Was his answer. The kindness and friendship she'd offered him over the last few months had been like a port in the storm. His life was not looking up, and she was a precious gift amidst all the crap.
Hermione wasn’t entirely sure what that was meant to mean, so she just ran with it.
“Alright, I will,” she said, and leaned up, kissing him deeply again, like she’d done when they first entered their own little private corner of the party. She wasn’t sure how far she was willing to go right here, like this, in public, but she knew she it would be the perfect way to ring in the new year regardless.
Draco pressed himself against her, and kissed Hermione with a fervor. She tasted like sweetness and champagne, like something so wonderful he couldn't name it any more than he could his feelings for her.
He slid a hand down to cup her firm arse, tilting her hips towards him to close the gap between their bodies. He didn't rock into her as he could have, just pressed every inch of their bodies together. He tangled his fingers into her hair, plundering her mouth with his tongue desperately. Just like last time, it felt like it could be the last, his only chance.
Hermione had never felt so… valuable. The way he kissed her felt almost desperate, like he was afraid that when he let go, she’d vanish into thin air. It made her hold on him stronger, and pressed her body into his as he did hers, her left leg lifting to wrap around his waist in a much more direct fashion, giving him the go ahead for, well, whatever, really. She couldn’t help but feel aroused in this moment, downright horny, even.
Draco had to break away from the kiss, gasping for air again as he held her fast against him. "We should stop," He whispered, though his tone showed how much he hated the idea. He buried his nose in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent deeply. "I don't know if I'll be able to hold back if you keep tempting me like this..." It was not so much that he wanted to stop, but that he didn't want to dive in too deep just to be thrown away when he was losing himself in their moment.
Hermione took the moment to consider his words, to agree with them, even, but she shook her head. “We don’t have to.” She didn’t want to. Sex with Draco had been amazing, far better than any sex with Ron. “I don’t really want to,” she added on to clarify.
Draco groaned into her throat, squeezing her close to him. His body came to life, and he suddenly felt hyper aware of every texture of her dress, every curve of her body, every place they touched, and he was on fire. He ground into her, pressing Hermione's shoulders firmly into the wall as his lips touched every inch of skin they could. He wished they had more space, more time.
"There's so bloody much I want to do to you." He whispered hoarsely, tone husky and raw with unshed emotion, seeming to bundle her close to him as he rocked their bodies together in an almost lazy fashion. "I wish I could take my time with you..." He added, lowering his head again to nibble at her ear.
Hermione appreciated the sentiment, she really did, but at this given moment she didn’t rightly care.
“We have six more months on dorm together for that,” she informed him matter of factly. She kissed him again, pleadingly. Her hands went to his the coat of his tuxedo, pushing it down his shoulders. He was severely overdressed compared to her, and this dissatisfied her in this moment. “Come on, I deserve this. You wouldn’t even be here tonight if it wasn’t for me, you owe me,” she teased him, going after his bow-tie next.
"What?" He managed to breathe, his hands roaming her back for a zipper. Draco was still wrapping his mind around 'six more months', and his cock was loving the idea as much as that spot inside of him hated it. He tugged the zipper slowly, lamenting the idea of getting her out of the ensemble. "What do you mean, if not for you?" He asked, panting, rocking their bodies together again.
Hermione smiled up at him, and ran her fingers through his sexy blonde hair. “There were some issues with getting your paperwork signed, namely that the person whose desk it landed on hates you, but I got it pushed through,” she told him shamelessly, and brought her hands back down to his chest, where her fingers worked quickly at unbuttoning his vest, and then the shirt underneath it.
That gave Draco pause, furrowing his brow as he looked down at the witch so hell bent on undressing him. So his papers had crossed the desk of one of her friends and she'd... somehow gotten them to come around? He could only guess at what had happened, and didn't want to think about it...
He gripped her thighs and lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist for support. "Why would you do that?" He dared to ask, pushing her gorgeous dress up so it wouldn't be in the way. His lips moved to her shoulder, kissing and nibbling the soft skin there as he next pulled down the front of her dress to free her breasts.
Now that was more like it. Hermione giggled in delight when he picked her up, wrapping her legs firmly around his waist but making sure that the dress fell open around her, not wanting the priceless article to be ruined in the process. She moaned when he cupped her breasts, pressing her chest into his hands.
“Like I told him, you need this, to be allowed to live a normal life, to not be a pariah after the mistakes that were forced on you as a kid.” She found his lips, not thinking this conversation was sexy.
That nearly made him stop again, shocked to hear such words, even knowing she was capable of that kind of compassion. He kissed her hard, tugging the top of her dress down until it pooled around her waist. His hands found the clasp of her bra and quickly unsnapped it, shoving the article into his pocket so it wouldn't get lost when it was off of her.
Draco hefted her a little higher and ducked his head, sucking a perky nipple into his mouth and laving it with attention. One hand braced against the wall above Hermione's head, the other snaking down to get at his belt, though the position made wrestling with the buckle a battle. But he wanted her now more than ever; he wanted to feel her, taste that sweet love and compassion she gave so freely to the world.
Hermione was loving it, every bit of it. She was sober enough, this time, to appreciate everything he was doing to her, without all the questions and worries. She knew, this time, how badly she wanted him. And it was evident by how she worked with him to get his belt and trousers undone.
“You’re a good guy, Draco,” she told him softly, moaning at his treatment. She knew no one had ever told him so, most likely, so she wanted him to hear it. It was a new year, a chance to finally turn over a new leaf.
That gave Draco reason to pause again, before he snorted and nipped sharply at her tit. "Still a Malfoy," He reminded her, as if this refuted her claim. "And a Slytherin." He added, moving to the other breast as his pants finally loosened and began to sag. With that small freedom, he turned his wrist to rub two fingers into her crotch through her knickers.

“And I’m still a mudblood, and a Gryffindor, but here we are,” she reminded him, and just to make her point, she put her hand down his pants, wrapping her fingers around his firm shaft. She smirked at him in a Slytherin fashion, and kissed him again, beginning to stroke his manhood.
Draco groaned, the conflict inside of him kicking into gear again at that word. He'd seen her blood; there was no mud in it, he knew.
But some part of him was still pleased by it. And he didn't know how he felt about that.
Draco groaned against her lips, rocking into her hand eagerly, more than ready to simply take her. He pulled Hermione's knickers out of the way, plunging two fingers into her warm core. She felt like heaven against his skin, and he couldn't wait to be inside of her again.
Hermione wanted nothing more than to have him inside of her again. When his fingers entered her, she moaned and threw her head back. “Oh God, Draco, hurry,” she whined. She could hear them beginning to countdown in the ballroom, it was within just seconds of midnight. People would be leaving soon, and stopping to get their cloaks and coats while they were at it.
Draco didn't need to be told twice; he could hear them in the ballroom as well. He pulled her off of him and extracted his fingers from her at the same. He guided Hermione to turn around, bracing her hands against the wall, her perfect little arse exposed to him when he lifted her dress.
It was an amazing sight. And he had six months to see as much as he wanted of it. That was like a dream. He kicked Hermione's legs apart and spread her lips to give him a clear sight of her weeping entrance, which he pressed the swollen head of his cock against. And, with one swift thrust, he buried himself to the root inside of the tight, warm glove of her body.
The cheering Hermione heard from the next room was a perfect depiction of how she felt as he slid home within her, and she let out a shameless moan.
“Oh, yes!” she cried softly, holding onto the wall in front of her with one hand, the other joined it soon with a fist-full of her dress, holding it out of the line of fire. She wasn’t so far gone that she would disregard the value of the gown she wore.
Draco's hand covered hers, helping her hold the dress in place and gripping her hip bruisingly at the same time. His other hand came to her shoulder as he pulled out slowly, and began thrusting into the woman at a brutal pace. Time was of the essence, after all, if only this one time.
Hermione’s mouth opened wide, her head stretched back so that it nearly touched his chest. No sound came out of her, all words and noises had gathered in her throat, but she urged herself not to let them out, lest someone want to beat the rush and hear them.
The way he assaulted her was so new. It was animalistic, and rough, and made her feel incredibly dirty, and Merlin , did she love it. She knew they didn't have long, but she could already feel herself growing awfully close to her release.
Draco's only sounds were rough pants, almost like growls, as he hammering into Hermione's pliate body. He shut his eyes and just felt it, let it sweep him away. His hand on her shoulder ran down her back, feeling every line and curve of her body, before moving around her waist and under her dress. He rubbed her clit vigorously as he thrust, harder and faster. There was no noise in the halls yet, still cheering from the ballroom, but he knew they had to hurry, and that made it more exciting.
The very idea of getting caught terrified her. She didn’t need any bad press right now, neither did Draco, and what would happen to their badges? Caught shagging at the Ministry holiday ball? That would go over well. Not. She let out only the tiniest sounds, thrilled beyond all belief that this was happening, and how it was happening. She’d never done something so bad before, not for recreation, at least.
"That's right," Draco breathed in her ear, grinding her clit furiously as he ravished her. He leaned in, molding his body to hers, letting him sink into her deeper. He whispered praises in her ear, things he'd never have said when he could think properly. His teeth latched onto her earlobe as he went, nipping sharply but gently. His hand on her hip moved to her breast, squeezing, pinching her nipple lightly, feeling the wondrous mound in his hand. He couldn't stop if he had to by now.
“Oh Merlin, oh God,” she whispered urgently. Hermione wasn’t sure how much more she could take, she felt like she was moments away from exploding, and she couldn’t imagine anything better. She could hardly catch her breath, and she was gasping and moaning and not remembering to breathe. His fingers on her clit had her thin thighs quivering with strain paired with the desire to go completely limp before him. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.
Draco was feeling close to snapping himself, catching her pleasure nub between his fingers and giving it a slight pinch to push her along.
"Come on, Hermione." He whispered in her ear. "Cum for me. Otherwise someone else might come in and see you..." His chuckle was dark and breathless; it was the kind of expositionism he'd enjoyed a few years ago. The very idea, the threat of being caught was its own thrill. "Do you want that? The whole world seeing the way you roll your eyes and squirm while your pussy milks my cock?"
Hermione’s eyes shot open, wide, at his words, and the physical torment he was putting her under… She couldn’t even think, just moaned continuously until finally she couldn’t stand it any longer. She came for him hard, her whole body shaking, her knees buckling under her, seeking not to be in use a moment longer. But she he onto the wall for dear life. “Cum with me,” she gasped, wanting to enjoy this with her lover.
Draco didn't need to be asked; Hermione was violently milking his cock with her amazing pussy, making him moan out with abandon. His body trembled and tensed, and then he was cumming. Draco threw all caution to the wind, lost to the pleasure, the thrill, and his vision was going white. He came, hard, filling the woman with reckless abandon as he thrust into her wildly.
It felt like it would never end, it was a lovely feeling, but her whole body was screaming, sore from the abuse. She didn’t even care about the recklessness of their actions, and the consequences would surely be remembered in the morning, but right now she was so glad to be filled with him and his seed. She’d never felt more alive. And yet, she also felt like she was dying, a blissful death, mind you, but she was panting deep, heavy breaths, and trying to remember to do so quietly.
Draco's thrusts slowed, and it felt like his release would never end. It was a perfect bliss, he clung to her, gasping soft, tender words into her ear that he might not even remember tomorrow. But it was the new year, and it was a wonderful way to start it; free and at ease and in her arms - well, her in his arms, technically.
And finally, finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spilled the last of himself into her, and pulled her into him. He turned their bodies until his back touched the wall amidst the cloaks, and sank down, soaking in the afterglow of a bone-melting orgasm. There was nothing better.
Hermione all but collapsed into his arms, resting against him for just a moment, before beginning to reconfigure her dress, as well as her stockings, which had started to roll down her thighs, her wand slipping down to her calf within. “That was bloody amazing,” she told him, leaning back to capture his lips in a lingering, tender kiss. When her lips broke from his, she stood. “People are starting to leave, I can hear them coming our way,” she warmed.
What Hermione wouldn’t give for a mirror right now. She spun around briefly, before taking her wand out of the stocking’s band again and zapping it towards a hanging print. The glass turned reflective. She spent a moment looking at herself, fixing smeared eyeliner and smoothing down frizz. Merlin did she look freshly shagged.
Draco took the moment to sit there, mourning the loss of her body around and against his. But, he slowly began putting himself together, fixing his pants and beginning to straighten his clothes. When he was put together again, he stood behind her, using the mirror as well to fix his hair, which was wild from their activities, but had been slicked back prior.
"Remind me to get you books more often..."
Hermione chuckled weakly at that, tired but amused. She looked at the reflection of the two of them, and it was odd, but it looked, nice. Aesthetically, they looked cute together. It didn’t hurt that their outfits practically matched. It was an interesting sight to behold; them, together. Hermione turned around in front of Draco, facing him instead. She began helping him button up, and straighten up.
“You don’t need to buy me books,” she told him sweetly. “I like candy too.” She added that last part with a smirk, and leaned up to kiss him quickly. “I’m going to go find my coat.” That would be the best reason for them to be seen coming out of the coat room, of course.
Draco nodded at that, fixing his bowtie almost lazily, enjoying the lingering closeness. Moving around each other, even with this behavior, felt normal, because they had their own routine in the dorms.
"Did you mean it?" He asked her softly, turning and spotting his cloak with ease and pulling it off the hanger. It was most recognizable by the cufflinks on the sleeves, platinum and jade with the Malfoy crest. "About the dorms."
Hermione smiled at him, pulling her own coat down and slinging it over her arm delicately. She didn’t put it on right away.
“About having six more months to do this?” she questioned in response smartly. “I haven’t decided yet.” That was a lie, but that was also a decision she wasn’t willing to make decisively until she was sober again. She offered him an encouraging smile, though, so he’d hopefully catch the hint of the way he was leaning.
Draco didn't like that answer, though the smile was more encouraging than he would admit. "Well," He sniffed in the most regal manner he could manage, adjusting his cloak. "Try to make up your mind before we see each other again. I'd like to throw you 'round the dorms a bit before classes start again." He offered, waggling his brows at her, stepping up and stealing a quick kiss.
"Mind giving us a quick Scourgify?" He added nonchalantly when he stood again. His wand was in his quarters at home; there'd been no point in bringing it. Outside of the school, he was only permitted to use it for self-defense.
Hermione happily returned the kiss. “Only if that’s a promise,” she bargained as she pulled her wand out of her stocking once more. She performed the necessary spell on him, and then on herself for safe measure. She could feel his seed leaking out of her the longer she stood. Well, she supposed, out was better than in.
"Oh, it is." Draco agreed, shivering at the odd feeling that tended to come with the cleansing spell. "I'd say something about wearing something sexy for me... But I don't think we'll make it out of here if we keep this up." A genuine laugh filled his tone, without any hint of malice or a sneer or anything typically associated with the young man.
Hermione giggled at that and smacked his chest lightly, before turning and heading to the exit. “I’ll see you in a couple days, Malfoy,” she told him teasingly on her way out.

"You can count on that. And don't forget that bloody book, or I'm keeping it." He called after her, smirking. He'd wait a few moments, or minutes, before leaving himself…
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A Very Dramione Holiday