So. She's finally mine.

It took a while, but Hermione Granger, school know-it-all with a personality to match, is my girlfriend. Oh yes, she took her sweet time, but now we don't need an excuse everytime we're seen together. And that look on Weasley's face was priceless - though I won't mock his expression any more than that, because we aren't really deadly enemies anymore.

But I do wish I had a camera with me. The only time that having Colin Creevey nearby would have proved useful, rather than just annoying.

"Um... Draco? Why the happy grin?" Blaise's voice says cautiously.

I look at him, smiling soppily. "I have a new girlfriend."

He rolls his eyes, combing a hand through his black hair. "That's nothing new, though I've never quite seen you like this over a new girl before. Who is it?"

"Surprise," I say, mockingly clapping my hands together like a baby. Blaise rolls his eyes again. Is it possible for someone's eyes to fall out from too much rolling? Because if it is, I'm pretty sure it'll happen to him soon.

"Out with it," he barks. "Whoever it is, it can't be that much of a shock to me. So spit it out already."

Glaring at him, I sigh resignedly. "Alright, alright. I'm amazed you haven't heard the rumors yet. Hermione Granger and I and now officially an item." I grin at the look on his face. "Told ya so."

"WHAT?"

"I said, Her-"

Blaise shakes my shoulder with a force enough to knock Hagrid out. My teeth chatter as I am pushed and pulled back and forth repeatedly. "NO! Why her, of all people? That's even worse than if you were gay with me! She's a Gryffindor, for God's sake, and plus she's not even hot (well, she kinda is, but that's besides the point)! What's wrong with you, Draco? Has she cast a love spell on you or something? You're not usually this dense about women. I mean, even Pansy's better than Granger, and Pansy's the slut of the century."

My eyes narrow until they are mere slits. "Are you insulting my girlfriend? And let me correct you on one thing - going out with Hermione is definitely not worse than being gay with you. Because, sorry to say, I'm one hundred percent straight. At least, I hope so anyway." I pull back sharply from his grasp, rubbing my shoulders and wincing. "You didn't need to grab my shoulder that hard. Ow... I think you dislocated a couple of joints..."

"Sorry," he says sheepishly. "But still...!"

I press a hand on his head. "Say no more, Blaise. I know you're just gonna oppose this full force, so there's no point listening to you blabbering on about how Granger might infiltrate my brain with Gryffindor cooties. I would have gotten them already from all that contact with Potter and Weasley, anyway. So... thanks for trying to protect me from cooties, but I lo-gleeegh her and that's final."

Blaise sighs dejectedly. "Dammit. I was hoping for a chance that you might be into guys, after rejecting Pansy for so long - after all, she does have a great body and a pretty face, and boys tend to cling to her like iron filings to a magnet... but oh well. STILL...! Granger, of all the hot little Gryffindor beauties you could have had... what a waste! Honestly, Draco. You shoulda picked that chick, Parvati or something. She's tons better than Hermione."

"Are you still trying to change my mind?" I ask, not really listening to what he's mumbling about. After all, Hermione's my girlfriend and no amount of persuasion from my friends is going to make me dump her for someone else. We've had all those experiences together, which is something irreplaceable, so no other bimbo - pretty or not - is going to catch my eye.

"To tell the truth, yes," he says.

"Then you can keep talking, and I'll just grab my bag and go. I've got to go to our next class." I wave at him. "See you later! Try not to be too late, or Flitwick will give you a hell load of homework."

As I walk down the corridors to my Charms classroom, I think over what Hermione had proposed for a first date. 'Let's go to a Muggle shopping mall,' she'd said to me excitedly. Then she said something about how it could make me more aware of the Muggle world so that I stop saying bad things about Muggleborns. Well, it's not my fault I'm a Pureblood. I just can't resist showing of my bloodline and mocking other people's. I guess you can call it a bad habit.

I poke my head into the class when I arrive. Excellent. Double Charms with Gryffindor. I catch Hermione's eye and she motions her head ever-so-slightly towards the empty seat next to her, which she had piled a tower of books on top of. Weasley is glaring sourly at her leaning tower of books, looking as if he's itching to shove it away and sit next to her himself. I clear my throat majestically as I enter, not spotting Flitwick's head behind the desk.

"Excuse me, Mr. Malfoy," he squeaks. "Kindly do not interrupt the class when you enter late. I know you love to announce your presence to the whole class every time you enter, but try to do it in a quieter, less disruptive way."

A few Gryffindors titter, who stop abruptly once I give them the eyebrow-nostril combo, a mixture of a raised eyebrow and flared nostrils to illustrate the fact that I am non too pleased. "Sorry, Professor. I'll clear my throat more quietly next time." He gives me an appraising look but doesn't say anything else. I quickly move to my seat and, sighing, remove all the books carefully and sit down.

"So what did you decide about my idea?" she mouths as she waves her wand around a few times. The cushion in front of her starts to unsew itself and soon, a large mound of thread lies on her desk, entangled in the pile of cotton that was inside the cushion.

I watch her do the reverse charm and then glance at Flitwick as he demonstrates the unsewing charm over and over again. Soon, I get the hang of it. "Well... I guess it's a change from all those Hogsmeade dates I've been to so far."

She grins hopefully at me. "Is that a yes?"

"Hmmm..." I pause for dramatic effect. I can tell Hermione is a bit nervous about the whole dating prospect, and it's quite funny watching her fidget as I consider my answer. "Yeah, OK then. What time?"

"Yay!" Hermione cries, and earns a disapproving glare from Flitwick. The rest of the class falls silent at her outburst, and she covers her mouth quickly, face crimson. "Whoops. That was a bit loud. But I'm really pleased that you're going to be seeing more of the Muggle world, and maybe realizing that it's not nearly as bad as you think it is!" she adds in a whisper. I spot Weasley and Potter over her shoulder, the former trying to eavesdrop our conversation. He keeps dropping his cushion in a very un-accidental way and bends down to grab it, at the same time knocking it as close to Hermione's chair as possible before picking it up slowly.

I smirk at his pathetic skills. "What are you doing, Weasley? Trying to look up her skirt?"

He jumps and knocks his head on the corner of his own desk. Glaring at me amidst sniggers from the Slytherins, and the occasional giggle from a Gryffindor girl, Weasley's face is an amazing shade of tomato red. I didn't even know people's faces could go that red. Well, I guess you learn something new everyday. "Shut up, Malfoy," he hisses, trying to look threatening and rubbing his head where he bumped the table. At that moment, I suddenly remember our peace pact that we had made after having that fight, and make no further comments.

"Mr Malfoy! Please, no more interruptions, or I shall have to take points off Slytherin!" Flitwick squeaks indignantly, and punishes me by making my cushion whack me repeatedly on the head.

Soon, the day of the date to the Muggle world dawns. As soon as I get up, I flip through my wardrobe and after about 10 minutes of searching, I settle for black jeans with chains and a navy sweater over a long, pale blue shirt. Putting on my favorite silver skull necklace, I slip on my sneakers and stuff my wand in my pocket just in case. Hermione had told me to wait for her outside the Slytherin common room, but maybe I'll surprise her by going to the Gryffindor portrait hole early instead.

Grinning, I walk casually along the corridors, fending off the occasional fangirl as I make my way to the portrait of the Fat Lady. Good. No one there yet. I lean against the wall and shut my eyes, listening for people coming through the portrait hole.

Half an hour later, there's still no sign of Hermione. Had she slept in, or worse - forgotten about our date? Nah. She wouldn't forget something as important as this, something that could change my attitude towards Muggles completely. In fact, she'd be up bright and early... Shit! I open my eyes quickly and run back to the Slytherin common room, dodging random suits of armor and shuddering every time I rush through a ghost. By the time I arrive, I am shivering with cold but I look around frantically for signs of Hermione.

Where did she go?

"Draco!" someone yells behind me. I whirl around and see, to my disappointment, Elliot Davidson, a 5th year famous for his smart mouth. He runs a hand through his cropped black hair and jabs a thumb over his shoulder. "Some girl's looking for you. It's that brunette one that you're always talking to... what's her name again?"

I smack his arm in gratitude, and he stumbles back. "Hermione, and don't forget it. Thanks a lot, man!"

10 minutes later, I am trailing behind a fuming Hermione. "Where the hell were you? I thought I asked you to wait outside your common room! Geesh."

I roll my eyes at her back. "I was trying to look for you. Sheesh. Where were you?"

"I was up bright and early, hoping to be there when you came out! And what do I find? Some 5th year telling me that you've already gone somewhere else!" She turns and glares daggers at me. Guess my hypothesis about her getting up early was right, after all. I sigh, and smile, before enveloping her in a hug. Hermione snuggles her head against my chest and sniffles regally. "Well, guess I'll forgive you. You'd better not do it again."

Heheh. Hugs can convince a girl to forgive nearly everything. I smirk to myself and plant a kiss on her lips before we continue walking slowly. My hands dangle at my side, not used to being unused - usually on the first date the girl grabs my hand whenever we stroll around and grips it like a vice. I guess Hermione's not that forward. Holding hands probably comes on the menu somewhere on the 7th or 10th date.

Well, I'm not waiting that long. I locate her wrist and grab it, and slide my fingers down to hold her hand. She jerks away involuntarily. "Sorry," she says sheepishly, rubbing her hands as if she'd received an electric shock. "I... I'm just not used to holding hands. Is it OK if..."

I fold my arms, amused. "Let me guess. Your hands'll start sweating? Is that it? Don't worry, I don't mind. I've had plenty of experiences with girls with sweaty hands." I make a face. "It's not... pleasant, but I can stand it."

"Are you trying to put me off holding hands with you forever?" she snarls, balling her hands into fists. How cute. She's so pretty when she's angry. I chuckle quietly. "What are you laughing at?" she asks, confused. "I don't remember telling a joke."

"You didn't," I say, grinning. "It's just that you look so cute when you're mad. Makes me wanna..." I cup her face in my hands and kiss her deeply. "... do that."

She blushes crimson and gives me a sidelong glance. "You're very good at cooling girls' anger. Then again, you've probably had lots of experience doing it."

"How did you guess," I say dryly. "I had to practise it, or I'd be dumped more than I do now. Or actually, before I asked you out. No way I'm letting you dump me so soon, anyway."

We reach the exit to Hogsmeade. Hermione goes ahead to explain what we are going to do and where we are going to Filch, who glares at her and relents only after seeing the untidily scrawled permission form by Professor McGonagall. When I pass him, I smirk at him and his glare sharpens until I can almost feel his gaze cutting into my back as I walk through the door. "Urk," I say, and stride as fast as I can until I can't see him anymore whenever I look over my shoulder in a paranoid fashion.

"What on earth are you doing?" Hermione asks cuttingly when I turn around for the 4th, and last, time and sigh in relief. "Don't worry, I have permission. No one's going to expel us."

"No, not that. Never mind. Let's enjoy ourselves while we're here."

She laughs. "We're not there yet. This is Hogsmeade - the Muggle world is beyond it. After all, this is the only village around this area that's jam-packed with wizards and witches. Elsewhere it's just all non-magical folk."

I look around one last time at the familiar sight of people of all ages wandering around in vivid cloaks. "Well, then... let's go."

A few moments later, we exit the Hogsmeade village via a small gate near the Shrieking Shack. Outside, there's a big sign displaying the words 'CONSTRUCTION SITE - DO NOT ENTER' directly over the gate. I guess that it emanates some kind of spell that distracts Muggles and stops them coming close. Kinda like those spells around the World Quidditch Cup stadium here in London.

We walk past several old buildings, until finally, the amount of people on the streets get larger and larger. Of course, these people aren't the brightly robed witches and wizards of our community, but instead have on casual clothes like Hermione and mine. Businessmen and -women in suits stride briskly past us, and one particularly burly woman bumps me roughly and doesn't even look back. My fingers instantly fly to my pocket where my wand is, but Hermione grabs my wrist and gives me a warning look.

"If you hex her, I will blow you to smithereens, I swear," she mutters. "Well, if not me, then the Ministry of Magic."

"Call it the Automatic-Malfoy-Self-Defence movement," I say, assuming a casual pose again as we stroll around. "You tend to develop movements like that when your dad hangs around with Death Eaters all the time."

She snorts, but doesn't say anything in response. We pass a shop full of little glass figures, and I stop to stare. The sunlight reflects off each face of the glass, and makes them look... almost ethereal. I pull Hermione by the arm into the shop, causing quite a scene with her struggling and my dragging. "Take a look at these! Look, there's a serpent. I should buy one of these for Snape and maybe he'll let me off the hook next time I break a couple of school rules. Or should I buy this little Cupid here for him...? You think that maybe it'll make him feel better about not having had a girlfriend in his entire life?"

Hermione's giggling attracts more stares and whispers from the other customers. "That's so mean, Draco! Just because you've had more girlfriends than the amount of socks in Dobby's sock collection, it doesn't mean you can make fun of other people's romantic lives." In spite of her righteous words, her giggles don't stop and she is soon hiccoughing and laughing at the same time. I pat her on the back, grinning.

"Hmm... do you think the shop keeper would notice if I made a few of his glass figurines invisible? He'd be scared out of his wits when he discovers that there's something on the shelf, but he can't see it!" I grin wickedly and quietly whip out my wand. Tapping the glass, I mutter the spell I vaguely remember from Transfiguration a few weeks ago, and wave my wand around as unnoticeably as possible. The glass shatters with an ear-splitting shriek, much like a banshee, and Hermione jumps backwards quickly, eyes wide.

The explosions triggers a chain reaction and the glass sculptures next to it crack and shatter. Fuck. "Draco! What the hell did you do?" Hermione hisses through her teeth as she attempts to smother the statue about to explode with her scarf. Bits of glass pierce the fabric. "Ouch! Ow, ow owww! Man, these little bits of glass hurt!"

"Hey, you kids! What are you doing there?" The shopkeepers yells. Many of the people in the shop had left in a hurry when they heard the shattering noise and the banshee scream, and now the few that are left are huddled in a corner, looking terrified. One tried to escape but the shopkeeper caught him by the scruff of his neck and threw him back. "Sonny, you haven't paid for that yet. I know it's your dear old granny's birthday, but you're not stealing from me to give it to her!"

"Er, I sneezed and the force of impact made the glass break," I say in my most innocent voice. Behind me, Hermione's hold on my arm tightens as she tries not to laugh out loud. "I've been told that I have a very strong sneeze, sir. It seems that this time was no exception. Rather the opposite, actually."

The man folds his arms across his chest. "Yeah, and your one little sneeze made a whole row of my glass sculptures explode. What are you, the big bad wolf? If you're going to blow something down, go do it in another person's shop! I don't get enough business as it is, without you scaring my rare customers away." He glances at the remains of his figurines and slowly looks back up at me. "I expect you to pay for it all, of course."

Hermione and I exchange helpless glances. "How much?" she asks tentatively. "We'll resort to fixing it by magic if we have to," she mutters out of the side of her mouth to me. I nod.

"Hmmm... good thing those that you smashed are the cheaper ones. Another row above or below and you'd be paying a fortune. You owe me... about 700 pounds."

"Se- SEVEN HUNDRED?" I shout angrily. "That's outrageous, for those cra- I mean, delightful little sculptures!"

Hermione quickly pulls me back. "This isn't galleons, Draco!" she says in a low voice. Smiling brightly at the shopkeeper, the corners of her mouth twitch as she tells him that we would fix it, if they would just leave the shop for a while. "We happen to be skilled repairers of antiques, you see," she explains. "Unfortunately, my boyfriend's sneezing often causes problems with our customers. So we're looking for a way to stop his forceful sneezing... ahahaha... so yeah."

The man looks at us skeptically. "You can fix it right here and now? Well, you might as well try - those pieces of glass aren't going anywhere except for the rubbish dump if you don't succeed." He motions for the other customers to finish paying and then he leaves to the back of the shop, all the while glaring at us until the door shuts.

I raise an eyebrow at her. "Well, might as well get started," I say, rolling up the sleeves of my sweater. "Reparo! Reparo! And Reparo!" The glass reassemble themselves smoothly and full figurines are soon lying on the ground. Hermione keeps an eye out for people watching and occasionally mouths the spell herself.

When we are done, she places them on the shelf and claps her hands. "There. Done. What's the time? How long did we take?"

"Er... about 20 minutes." I glance at my watch and back up at her quizzically. "Why? How long do Muggle antique repairers take to restore a few glass sculptures?"

"Damn," she says. "I don't want to wait here for hours. Let's just go. Leave a nice surprise for the guy." She grabs my hand and pulls me out like I pulled her into this shop in the first time. Her hand is warm over mine, and I grip it tightly. This ought to be in a history book. 'Hermione Granger, best friend of Harry Potter, grabs Former Nemesis Draco Malfoy's hand'. Ha.

Out on the street, strange metal buggy things move at a very fast pace along the road. I start to walk across the grey path when one of them stop suddenly next to me. I stop, surprised, and Hermione claps a hand over her mouth to suppress a scream. "Kid! Watch where you're fucking going! Haven't you crossed a road before? For fuck's sake, teenagers these days..." A man swears loudly at me from inside the car. Ahhh. So these buggys are a form of transport.

I fix him with a cold stare. His gaze wavers and he looks down. "Mind your language, bastard," I say, and do the finger at him. Muggle world or not, the finger seems to be a universal rude sign, because all the students in Hogwarts seem to understand it and not all of them come from pureblood wizarding backgrounds like me. The man's face turns beet red and he starts yelling obscenities.

Hermione runs up to me. "Get moving, Draco! You nearly got run over! You're lucky that guy stopped in time. He could have killed you!" We walk quickly over to the other side, where a bunch of raggedy looking boys are hanging around. She slaps her forehead. "Oh yeah, I forgot. You've never seen cars before. Well, those things are called cars, and they can easily squash you into human pancake just by driving into you."

A few of those teenage delinquents whistle as Hermione and I pass. "Nice girlfriend you got there. Care to share her?" The leader, a handsome boy with dark brown hair and casual clothes puts an arm around her waist and pull her to him, nuzzling her cheek and staring at me defiantly with a smirk, as if challenging me.

The look on Hermione's face is pure horror and she attempts to elbow him in the stomach. "Let me go!" she protests, but the guy just holds onto her tighter, his smirk grower wider. "Uh, Draco? Some help here, please!"

I crack my knuckles, smiling pleasantly. "Don't worry, Hermione. I'll get you away in no time. Man, it's been a long time since I've clobbered someone properly... thanks for giving me the chance to brush up on my fighting skills, you fucktards." I feign a swing to the boy's face, which he ducks, and at the same time he throws Hermione to another of his friends. While he is distracted I step closer and bring my knee up quickly and it hits his groin. His eyes widen and I punch him in the face.

"M-my nose!" he screams, clutching his bleeding nose, which is most probably broken. "Y-you bastard, what was that for? I was just joking around! Fuck, I'm going to bloody kill you! Jeff, Kyle, get him!" Two of his straggly friends quickly come at me from both sides. I grab the skinny one called Jeff and smash his face onto my knee. He runs away, howling much like the leader, and the the other guy stops mid-step and back away.

I wipe blood off my hand and sneer at him. "What's wrong? Why're you backing away? I thought you boys wanted to have some fun. Don't chicken out now; I'm just starting to get warmed up."

The three boys cast terrified glances at me as they stagger away, tripping over their own feet as they try to run away as fast as possible. "H-he's a demon! What the hell... I've never seen someone who fights like that!"

"Let's just get out of here-!"

"Yeah, g-get moving!"

I laugh at their backs as they disappear into the crowd. People stare at them as they run, blood spurting from their noses. A large Muggle in a tidy uniform frowns at the blood on my hand, then at the guys who had just run away and starts piecing two and two together. He advances towards us, and I grab Hermione's hand and we run away as fast as we can, laughing all the way. Finally, we outrun the man and, panting and giggling, she leads me to a cafe where she orders a coffee and we sit down in stylish, black chairs around a small circular table.

"You were scary," Hermione confesses to me after a while of drinking our coffees in silence. "I turned around and that brown-haired guy's nose was bloody... wow. Do you study streetfighting or something?"

I smile. "No. Call it experience. I do it all the time when some girls' boyfriends find out they're cheating on them with me. You know how some guys tend to get violent when they've been cheated on. Me included."

She shudders. "I'm definitely not going to cheat on you, then. I feel sorry for those people that you just beat up, even though they were being really uncivil to me." Shaking her head, she laughs quietly. "Thinking back now, I can't believe how Ron could have gone through that fight with you with only a few bruises to show for it. He must be a lot tougher than I thought." Hermione nearly chokes on her coffee. "God, I can just imagine it now... Ron, in a black leather jacket, and black leather pants, with nose piercings and chains hanging around his neck..." She giggles, though it has a slightly sad edge to it.

"You still remorseful about your rejection of him?" I ask, trying to look nonchalant. Inside, however, I am a bit annoyed. Why is she still feeling depressed about that? After all, she did reject him herself. I didn't pressure her or anything.

Hermione shakes her head again quickly. "No. I'm happy with you." She smiles softly, and leans over to kiss me. I gladly kiss her back, careful not to spill my drink. Her mouth tastes like coffee, but it's a nice tinge. The kiss deepens until I spot people staring at us from the corner of my eye. I rest a hand on her leg and she breaks away, sniggering a bit. "That tickles!"

I laugh. "Sorry." The rest of the time in the cafe is spent in comfortable silent, with the occasional snog when we get bored.

Looks like the Muggle world is a lot more interesting - and dangerous - than I'd thought. I definitely wouldn't mind coming back here, if it's just to sit in this coffee bar again to talk and kiss.

With the latter being first priority, of course.