"Hey, 'Mione," Ron said, as Hermione looked around, glancing anywhere but at him. Beside her, she felt Draco tense and she knew he had just as bad a feeling about this as her. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but she felt a little nervous. After all, her previous encounters with Ron had almost led to nervous breakdowns. 

"How are you?" he asked further.

Hermione had to suppress the instinct to roll her eyes. Of course, she was doing splendidly, wasn't she? So she pursed her lips and said nothing.

"Right. Stupid question." He looked around awkwardly, trying to hold Hermione's gaze. "Well, are you busy? I can come back later if - "

"Why don't you just come to the point, Weasley?" Draco asked, a hint of aggressiveness in his voice. "That way none of us would waste time."

"If it's not clear enough already, Malfoy, I'm not talking to you, so you can stop butting in," Ron said. "Anyway, Hermione, I'm here to invite you to the Burrow for Christmas."

"Yeah, of course I will, Ron, because you've been so splendid with me lately I could spend all day with you and not get up to eat," Hermione said sarcastically and attempted to walk around him, but Ron stopped him.

"Hermione, I'm serious," Ron said. "I mean, come on, it's Christmas time. Isn't it a time to move past grudges? Isn't that what you always say?"

"I do, but I'm afraid what you've done does not exactly fall in the minor grudges category," Hermione said.

"What is it with you?" Ron asked frustratedly. "I mean, seriously, what have I done that's so hard to forget and move on from?"

"Did you hit your head or something, Ron?" Hermione asked incredulously. "Okay, never mind. Let me remind you of everything from the very beginning." She began ticking off the various things she said on her fingers. "First off, you doubted me and my intentions, because I obviously haven't done enough for you and almost died for your sake. You broke up with me - which would've been okay, if you hadn't done it the way you did. Then you completely ignored me for months - months! - in which I needed you for support, and you persuaded Ginny to do the same, so I was completely alone. Then suddenly, when my parents died, you felt it was all enough and came and kissed me without my consent. When I refused, you called me into that classroom and accused me of whatnot. Oh, and let's not forget, you attacked Malfoy and would've almost killed him or got yourself killed had I not gotten there. I think those are enough reasons to not be talking to you."

There was a deafening silence, in which Ron stared at Hermione in rage, and Draco tensed further, readying himself for a fight if need be. But Hermione held his wrist firmly, silently telling him not to act rashly.

Finally, Ron said, "I didn't realize you were so protective of your new boyfriend," as he glanced at Hermione holding Draco's hand.

"Even if he was my boyfriend, it would've been your fault to not offer me your hand to hold on to when I needed it," Hermione replied calmly. "Now, if you've got your answer, excuse us."

Hermione did all she could to not rush towards the Head Common Room as fast as her legs would carry her, and tried her best to look composed. This whole thing with Ron... it disgusted her. He was not even aware of what impact his actions had had on her and he still expected her to get back with him? He was hoping that... what? That things might be the same between them again? They'd fall in love again? Kiss each other's heads off beside the Lake? Was he seriously so dense and so obnoxious at the same time? Did he really have no regard for her feelings at all, and only wanted her at his beck and call to satisfy his lust? Hermione didn't know. All she knew was that the little, innocent boy who she'd loved was no more. Instead, he came to be replaced by this version. When did this happen? Did the War do that to him? Maybe it had left that mark on him, as it had left on all of the others. But this was certainly not the way to manifest it. He should know that.

"Granger - " Draco called tentatively as they reached.

"I'm fine, Malfoy," Hermione said. "Really," she added as Malfoy looked at her with an eyebrow raised. "If I were to burst into tears every time anyone said something rude to me, I'd never be dry at all."

Since they'd missed lunch while at Hogsmeade, they both went down to the kitchens - this was something Hermione was relieved to find Draco knew how to do - and, overwhelmed by the elves' service, feasted themselves on carrot soup, mashed potatoes, and chocolate eclairs to finish off. They spent the evening studying as none of them had anything better to do - both Hermione's and Draco's friends had left for their homes and the castle was almost empty. Hermione helped Draco with his Potions since that was what he'd missed. She tested him on the syllabus from the earlier years, then explained to him everything that was seventh-year course. She found that he was an excellent student, since he had a remarkable memory and picked up concepts almost as speedily as herself. After an excellent dinner in the Great Hall, they both flopped down, exhausted, on the sofas, their bellies contentedly full.

They just lay there, doing nothing, absorbed in thoughts as midnight approached. Then Draco suddenly got up and fished out a large bottle of Firewhiskey from under the sofa - as a Christmas Eve celebration, he said. He took a swig, then gave it to Hermione, who hesitated at first, but then took a sip and gave it back to him. They passed the bottle back and forth until it was almost half empty and they both felt quite restless.

"Okay, let's play a game," Hermione said. "We play it in the Muggle world. It's called Truth or Dare. If you choose truth, you'll have to answer my question truthfully. If you choose dare, you'll have to do the task I tell you."

"We can try," Draco said. "I'm amazed you know about games, Granger."

"Surprising, isn't it? Okay, truth or dare?"

"Let's see. Truth, I guess."

"Okay. How much Sleekeazy's Hair Gel do you use everyday to slick back your hair like that?" Hermione asked, giggling. A little stupidly, she thought. 

"Hey, you can't know about my personal grooming sessions!" Draco said with mock anger. "Besides, I do not use hair gel."

"Don't lie, Malfoy!" Hermione said, laughing.

"I'm not! My hair are just naturally like that!"

"I'll take your word for it. Anyway, I take truth."

"So I'll turn your question to you. How much hair gel did you use at the Yule Ball?" Draco asked, sniggering.

Hermione grinned sheepishly. "My hair was insufferable back then. I had to use almost an entire bottle."

"The entire large bottle? Granger, it's bigger than the size of my head!"

"Not that one!" Hermione exclaimed. "The smaller bottle, which is about as big as your - " Hermione stopped, laughing, then said, "brain."

"I'm having a bad influence on you, Granger," Draco said, laughing too. They both were passing the bottle of Firewhiskey back and forth constantly and were growing increasingly intoxicated, so they climbed down the sofas and squatted on the floor.

"Okay, truth or dare?" Hermione asked.

"Dare," Draco replied, smirking.

"Fine. Let's see - Oh, yes, I got one. Give me your best imitation of a monkey."

"Seriously?" Draco said. "I am so not doing that!"

"Oh, you're so going to," Hermione said, getting up and pulling him by his arm.

"Ow, you'll wrench it off! Okay, okay, I'll do it," Draco said, giving up. He got up, and Hermione lay down on her stomach on the ground, her chin on her palms, watching keenly. Draco stood on the table - the Firewhiskey seemed to be having its effect, all right - hesitated for a second, then started bouncing from one leg to the other, scratching his armpits, and making wild screeching noises that were so weird Hermione rolled over on her stomach, laughing uncontrollably.

"You do not judge me like that!" Draco said, jumping down, suddenly feeling very lightheaded.

"I just - I can't - " Hermione couldn't bring herself to speak, she was very short of breath. Draco joined in the laugh.

"My turn. Truth or dare?" Draco asked.

"Well, since you did it too, dare."

"Mm. Okay, act like any one of our professors."

"That's easy." Hermione got up. "Guess who it is." She cleared her throat and spoke in a deep, gurgling voice. "I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back is turned!" She took out her wand and levitated an empty inkpot from the corner of the desk, bouncing it around the entire room. "Stinking - cowardly - scummy thing to do," she said, speaking each word as the inkpot went down and bounced up again. Then she finally let the inkpot hit the ground and break into pieces right behind Draco.

"That's not fair," Draco said, chuckling somewhat sheepishly.

"I suppose you guessed who it was all right," Hermione said as she squatted down in front of Draco again, guffawing. Even in her drunken state, she knew subconsciously this was the best time she'd had in ages.

"Well, I guess I make a pretty good inkpot," Draco said. The Firewhiskey made everything seem extra funny. They both toppled over and lay flat on their backs, laughing hysterically.

Until Hermione felt the blinding rage, the urge to cut somebody open with the broken pieces of the inkpot, and then the all-too familiar sharp stab of pain in her left forearm.