Sorry for such a delay! I have about 16 chapters rewritten but I have to edit them lolz, and school has been dragging me to the depths. Of. Hell. :)
-a

It was surprisingly easy to convince Lucius to let Draco and Theo go on the next patrol. Lucius and Draco sat together that night to eat, and he ate dinner mechanically, contemplating his future. The plan was simple enough. Go along with whatever Death eaters they were put with, once a muggle or halfblood was captured, they'd stun the Death eaters and try to convince the frightened prisoners that they meant them no harm. Draco knew that would be the difficult part. Anyone who was anyone knew of the Malfoy reputation, and probably wouldn't like him. Theo said he'd be able to convince them, whoever they were, and Draco hoped he was right.

"So," Lucius said slowly, and Draco stiffened. "What is with your sudden interest in cultivating the mudbloods?" Draco tried not to wince at the word and stirred his spoon within his pumpkin soup.

"I don't think I contribute enough." He said, lifting the spoon to his lips. Lucius nodded, taking a slurp of his own soup without a sound.

"I see," he said, dabbing the corner of his mouth with his napkin. "How's that Parkinson girl?"

Draco tried not to roll his eyes. Lucius had always wanted him to marry Pansy, simply due to her blood status and familial connections. "She's dating Theo now, father." Draco replied, and took another sip of his soup.

"Ah of course," Lucius drawled. "Shame that Granger girl has dirty blood, isn't it?"

Draco nearly choked on his soup.

"She wasn't all that great on the eyes," Lucius continued, and Draco felt the panic bubbling in his chest. Did he know about the Divination project? Hogsmeade? "But I heard she was exceptionally smart."

"She was a know-it-all," Draco said, trying to sound annoyed and not like his heart was rattling in his chest. "I hated taking classes with her, she would always blurt out answers before being called on." Draco dipped his spoon into his soup, bringing it to his mouth, but he couldn't taste it. "she would make a terrible Malfoy wife." He added and tried to avoid his father's gaze.

Lucius drummed his fingers on the tablecloth lightly. "You're probably correct." He said and took one last sip of his soup before he stood and walked from the dining room. Draco could suddenly breath once more.

March 30th, 1997

Draco could no longer sleep in, and he found himself up and dressed before 8am, even though it was a Sunday. He could hear the faint snores of Blaise in the bed beside him, and he quietly left the dormitory. He walked into the great hall and sat at the Slytherin table near the entrance. He quietly placed pancakes onto his plate, and as he began to pour syrup over them, he was aware of the faint scent of strawberries. He looked over and almost dropped his fork as Hermione sat down next to him.

"Hello, Draco." She said. When had she started calling him that? "I'm going to Hogsmeade with Hagrid and a few others today. Would you care to come?"

He starred at her, fork held in mid-air. She gave him a quizzical look. "Well don't answer too fast."

"Sorry, sorry," he stuttered, and began to slice his pancake. "I just...why are you asking me? I doubt Potter or Weasley are busy." She shook her head, her ringlets bouncing against her face.

"They're going to play quidditch, since it's so nice today. And since we made such progress on our project, I thought we deserved a break." She said and stood up from the bench. "Meet at Hagrid's pumpkins if you decide to come." Without another word she walked away, and Draco starred after her, the scent of strawberries disappeared as well, and he put a fork full of pancakes in his mouth thoughtfully.

Granger asking him into town? He could not remember the last time anyone had asked him to go with them anywhere, just because. He felt his pulse quicken at the fact that she wanted his company.

Or perhaps she wants something else.

Either way, the urge to be around her once more overwhelmed him, and he finished his breakfast quickly, standing up and jogged up to his dorm.

Now awake, Blaise sat on his bed, a large textbook open on his lap, his dark eyes skimming the pages, and he gave Draco a quick glance.

"You're blushing." Blaise stated, and Draco jumped slightly, giving his friend the once over.

"Am not." He said, removing his top and replacing it with a dark green sweater, his back towards Blaise. He could hear the other boy sigh, and the sound of him shutting the book echoed in their otherwise empty room.

"Want to talk about her?" Blaise said, and Draco spun around as he tried to clip his chain link around his neck.

"Talk about who, Blaise?" Draco barked, his voice full of irritation. "I haven't got the slightest inkling of who you are talking about."

Blaise smirked; his arms folded across his chest. He was tall but built, and he looked completely comfortable in his skin. Draco envied him.

"Whatever girl you're going to go see," Blaise replied, and leaned forward slightly. "You only change your outfit when you want to impress a girl."

"I do not!" Draco shot back, and closed his bureau door, his heart beating loudly in his ears.

"Sure, sure." Said Blaise, and he went back to sitting on his bed, ankles crossed, and opened his book. "I'll be here to talk when you're ready." Draco stalked out of his dorm with a huff. What did Blaise think he was on about? Granger was not a girl he needed to impress. She was an insufferable know-it-all, who he happened to finally gain some resemblance of patience with, and her bushy hair popped into his mind. Before he knew it, he caught himself smiling at the thought, and quickly scowled at himself as his feet took him down the stairs and out towards Hagrid's.

She's a Mudblood, and Potters Golden Girl. She was off limits.

He spotted her sitting on a pumpkin, ankles crossed, her nose pressed into a book. Draco rolled his eyes as he approached, the leaves crunching beneath his feet and Hermione looked up.

"Ever get your nose above textbook level, Granger?" He remarked, and her face fell slightly.

"Ever get your head out of your arse, Malfoy?" she retorted, closing the book, and placed it beneath the pumpkin, brushing leaves over it slightly. Straightening up, Hermione brushed her jeans off and started down the hill. Draco paused, unsure of his next move, but when he saw her continuing without him, he jogged forward to catchup.

"Wait," he called, and grabbed her by the elbow. "Where's everyone else?" Hermione stopped; her mouth set in a thin line as her eyes flicked to his hand on her. He immediately retracted his hand, not meeting her eyes.

"They aren't coming." She said, and turned around, walking once more. Draco jogged after her. What the hell was going on? "What do you mean they aren't' coming?" he asked, and she did not slow down as she replied. "They changed their minds. It was just Ginny and Neville anyways."

"Why'd they change their minds?"

Hermione continued to walk, picking up her pace, and Draco stopped in front of her. She halted right before she collided with his chest, and glared up at him, her fists balled at her side. If he leaned forward, he could press his lips against her forehead.

"It doesn't matter." She said, voice flat, and Draco looked down at her. She was shorter than he realized, her head barely coming up to his chin.

"Oh, spit it out, Granger." He scoffed, rolling his eyes. Hermione cocked her head to the side, and he could almost feel the anger radiating from her.

"Fine!" she cried, moving around him as she continued her march. "If you must know, it's because they didn't want to come if you were coming, and I want you to come, so they did not."

Draco stood stupidly, feeling like the air was momentarily very thin. She looked back at him, and sighed, her shoulders slumping as if in defeat.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "This was a poor idea from the start."

She walked towards him, back the way they had come, and stood in front of him. Once again, he thought about her forehead, how if he leaned forward he could place his mouth right above her brow and inhale her scent. He was sure she smelled of strawberries.

Slowly, Hermione reached forward and grasped his hand. They both stood still for a moment, and she chuckled, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Draco," she whispered, avoiding his eyes. "You have made my life a living misery all these years at Hogwarts. Yet somehow, you seem to have made it all up in a matter of weeks."

Was she being serious?

If only she knew what he would do. What he was being made to do. He suddenly had an urge to sit down and tell her everything, every last detail about the cabinet and Snape and how Voldemort was living in his house and how the fear held him so tight he felt he could barely breath. He wanted to tell her everything, and for her to tell him it would all be ok, but mostly he just wanted to hold her hand for as long as he could.

"I enjoy your company much more than I used to," she continued, and dropped his hand. "I just...I just wanted to know if you felt the same."

Draco starred at her for much too long, and her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. "Right, well, it was a long shot," she said, turning back towards the palace. "I knew that."

"I do." Draco blurted.

Did he?

Hermione craned her neck slightly, peering at him, her lashes dusting her slightly pink cheeks and he decide, in that moment, he indeed did feel the same.