"So, basically, that knife with which Bellatrix carved this into my arm is a Black family heirloom, given to her by your mother, Druella Black, which does account for the fact that she always kept the knife close to her," Hermione speculated, pacing about the hall.

"I do not want to hear my mother's name on your filthy tongue again!" Narcissa said with gritted teeth. Draco looked at her warningly, which led Narcissa to leave the hall frustratedly.

"So the knife was almost certainly cursed," Hermione brooded further, hardly noticing that Narcissa had left. "So if I can find exactly what spell was put on it, maybe I can perform a counter-curse to cure my arm."

"If we can find the spell," Draco said, smiling slightly. "Although, I think that's all mother knows about this business. If there's anyone else who may know, it has to be her husband, Rodolphus."

"Who escaped today, thus making things convenient," Hermione said sarcastically.

"You know, I was initially surprised they managed to catch him in the first place," Draco said thoughtfully. "He was always an elusive rat, but incredibly clever and vile. Then again, they didn't manage to catch him in the usual sense."

"What do you mean, they didn't catch him?" Hermione said, surprised.

"Well, it'd be closer to the truth to say he walked up to them and asked to get arrested," Draco said. "After the War, they couldn't catch him immediately like they did the others. It was like he disappeared from the War itself. No sign of him for weeks. And then suddenly one day, there was news of a Muggle being killed without apparent cause, so the Ministry went to investigate and found him. He hadn't even gone far from the spot. Came almost willingly, but of course, the Ministry didn't think about that. Just put him in Azkaban, happily took credit, and published a great big article in the Prophet."

"Why would he announce his presence like that?" Hermione thought aloud. "And if he had to come after all, why run after the War?"

Before Draco could reply, though, he heard a slight swooshing noise somewhere in the distance. He rushed quietly to a window, hiding beside the glass so he wouldn't be spotted from the outside, and carefully peeped out. Hermione didn't understand what all the stealth was about and her bewilderment increased further when Draco withdrew from the window in raw anger and bellowed out, "MOTHER!"

Hermione rushed to see what Draco had seen at the window, but he grabbed her arm midway. "Go to the fireplace. Count bricks two down, five across with your wand, and tap the correct brick. It will open to reveal a snuff-box with Floo powder. Take it and go back to Hogwarts now. I'll be right behind you."

"But Malfoy, what did you see - "

"Now, Granger, do you understand me?"

Draco's voice had such a firm and urgent note in it that Hermione had to comply. She nodded, and he let go of her arm, running out of the hall. Hermione did as she was told, grabbed some Floo powder, and walked into the green flames as she shouted as clearly as she could, "Hogwarts!"

And instantly there was the spinning sensation, the feeling of her ears being pushed into her skull, and the next moment she was standing in McGonagall's office back at Hogwarts. The Headmistress was not there, to Hermione's relief, because she didn't want any questions asked just then, not to mention that she was bringing a lot of ash onto the carpet.

***

Hermione almost collapsed with relief when Draco entered the Head Common Room some two hours later. She couldn't help what she did next. She ran to him from the sofa and threw her arms around his neck.

"Jeez, Granger, what happened to you?" Draco asked, startled by this more-than-hearty welcome.

"Oh, I cannot tell you how worried I've been," Hermione said, letting go of him. She was blushing furiously.

"Why? I was in my own home, I imagine," Draco said, smiling slightly.

"You heard I don't know what, then saw I don't know what at the window, then told me to leave I don't know why. Forgive me if I was baffled or anxious."

Draco laughed. "You repeated the phrase 'I don't know' thrice in that sentence. So much for being the smartest witch of the generation."

Hermione flushed even harder. "Just shut up and tell me what all the fuss was about. After all, I didn't even get to have a regal thousand-course meal at your royal residence."

Draco laughed again. "Thousand-course meal?"

"Will you tell me or not?" Hermione asked irritatedly.

"Okay, okay," he said. He breathed deeply, and a grave expression clouded his face as he sat down. "When my mother left the hall, she went straight to her bedroom and sent a Patronus to father, telling him that you were at the Manor. It was he who'd Apparated when I checked."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "You're kidding!"

"I wish," Draco said bitterly. "I talked to her, told her you were fine, and then when she started talking, I thought she didn't mind you so much. How very wrong I was."

"Yeah..." Hermione said, at a loss of words.

"I never should've taken you there," Draco said regretfully. "It was too dangerous. I should've known that none of my parents were redeemable."

"Don't say that!" Hermione said. "None of it was your fault, and you can't expect your mother to revolutionize her mentality about - about Muggleborns in one go," Hermione said. "This kind of thing takes time. Look at yourself. You took weeks too."

Slightly comforted, Draco sat back on the sofa, as Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder. "Well, we did get what we went for, anyway. Now to get hold of Rodolphus," she said.

"We'll worry about that later," Draco said, suddenly feeling drowsy. Hermione soon dozed off on his shoulder, and smiling to himself, Draco succumbed to the sleep moments later.

***

The rest of the Christmas holidays went peacefully, and Hermione and Draco spent practically their entire time together throughout the remainder of the vacations. They woke up around the same time, met in the common room each morning, went down to breakfast together, and even though they ate on separate House tables, they met again after meals to head back. They spent the afternoons studying all that they could and quizzing each other over various subjects. Then they'd take a break in the evening, go for a stroll around the grounds, and then just pass their time after dinner, either studying some more or going over whatever they knew about Hermione's cursed scar, coming up with suggestions and scrapping them up when they didn't fit. They both had started to see each other as best of friends, and shared whatever they felt like with each other. Their bond was only strengthening with passing time.

It was the last day of the Christmas holidays. Hermione and Draco were studying the section of Dementors in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and how to deal with them. Professor Bescherming hadn't needed to put in too much effort to help the students cast Patronus charms. Though she didn't know it, half of them had been part of the Dumbledore's Army in fifth year, and could produce corporeal Patronuses about as easily as tying their shoelaces. Draco, however, had been mysteriously absent from that class.

After reading the portion about Patronus charms aloud from her book, Hermione got up to practice. She said the incantation aloud and a beautiful otter emerged from the end of her wand instantly, gliding around her and making her hair blow with the little gust of wind it produced. Hermione followed it with her eyes adoringly for some time before letting it vanish into the air as she dropped her wand.

"Come on, your turn," she said, sitting down.

"To do what?" Draco asked innocently.

"Practice your Patronus, idiot."

"Thanks. I'll pass."

"That's what you'll tell the NEWT examiners when they ask you to cast the Patronus charm?" Hermione asked skeptically. 

She'd sensed something was not right. Otherwise, Draco was always the first to establish how well he could do pretty much anything compared to her. Him not leaping on any opportunity to prove that he was the first ranker was weird.

"I'm not in the mood, alright?"

"So, when? You'll show me after dinner?"

"I'll think about it."

"I want to see what form your Patronus takes," Hermione said, pressing forward. She wanted to know just what was bothering him.

"Alright, you got me," Draco said, raising his hands above his head in surrender. "The fact is, I can't produce a Patronus."

"Well, it's easy enough, I can teach you - "

"I mean, Granger, that I can't produce one."

Hermione realized what he was saying. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"I mean, you can try, right? All the time with your parents - "

"A time when I was a part of a happy little family is long gone, Granger. So long gone I don't remember it."

"Then, friends? You must've had fun with them, right?"

"They're not strong enough. I've tried."

The next thing Hermione said came out of her mouth so tentatively Draco had to strain his ears to catch it. "Um... what about... me?"

Draco didn't see how Hermione blushed when she said this. But it got him thinking. She wasn't wrong. He had been happy with her. For her sake, he had to try once.

He summoned in his mind everything that came to him, every second that he'd been joyful, or content, or peaceful. He thought about that night he'd played that ridiculous Muggle game with her, or had gone to Hogsmeade with her, or had strolled near the Black Lake in the breeze. He thought of the previous few days, the calm joy that Hermione had instilled in him.

Bearing everything in mind, he raised his wand in the air, swung it around in a large circle, and said, "Expecto Patronum!"

And there it was - the thing Draco had strived to see. A large dragon emerged from the tip of his wand, fierce but beautiful, leaping in the air on invisible rocks and boulders. Draco stared at it unbelievingly as it glided around him noiselessly, a flash of bright blue and white, and through the brilliant light, he saw Hermione's face beaming at her - the same happiness he saw in the dragon's eyes.