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"Push yourself to your limits. Workout for ten more minutes. Eat three donuts instead of two. Sleep for thirteen hours. The possibilities are endless."
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As the weather grew steadily colder,
Harry, Ron and Ginny's letters came with considerably increased mentions of wanting to come home soon, with a ruffled and disgruntled owl to go with it. The owls would often arrive with their feathers dampened and blown every which way, and would not go away until Hermione would give them a drink of lukewarm water, some treats, and a whole lot of petting. 

Ever since that night at the park when they had had dinner, they had fallen into a friendship that they found impossible to come out of, and which was more heartfelt then before. Hermione didn't mind. Not at all, actually. It was good to have someone her own age as a companion since Ginny, Ron and Harry were away. 

Soon, their friendship grew so strong, that Hermione had once actually referred to him as her 'very good friend' in her mind while she had been thinking about him. She had been pouring herself a pot of coffee, and had ended up over-filling the cup. Very good friend. It was truly curious how time and growth could change people, because Hermione knew now that he no longer stood by blood prejudice, that he had really changed for the better. He was still extremely irritating, and had a high-and-mighty attitude and arrogance, only minus the old menace and hostility. 

On a chilly, windy Wednesday, Hermione entered the apothecary to find Draco laughing with Astoria. They had an arm each around the other, and Draco's head was thrown back in laughter at something she had said. He ignored her presence altogether, and she didn't mind because she didn't want to have a conversation with Astoria. Hermione nodded at Mr. Blak, who nodded back, and walked past Draco. He had his black scarf around his neck. 

"Granger?"

Hermione was rooted to the spot by the voice that called her. 

"Yes?" She turned to face Astoria, keeping a polite smile in place because she didn't like being a bitch unless the person she was interacting with was a bitch first. 

Astoria looked stunned at first that Hermione had responded, but she quickly returned Hermione's smile and held a hand out, "Astoria Greengrass."

"I know," Hermione said, clasping her cut-peppered and rough fingers around Astoria's manicured ones as she did.

Draco frowned at her slight rudeness. 

"H-how are you?" Astoria asked, and Hermione realised that she was putting an effort into being friendly. Probably because Draco had asked her to.

"I'm good, I think," Hermione said, uncertain, "And you?"

"I'm as well as can be," Astoria said with a little laugh and a shrug. 

"Get to work, both of you," Mr. Blak reminded them from behind the counter. 

Draco nodded, "See you later."

"Dinner at my place?" Astoria asked, reaching up to hold Draco in a brief embrace. 

"Sure." Draco agreed.

He had agreed to study with her that evening, after work. 

"See you around, Granger," Astoria said, politely waving. 

"Yea, see you," Hermione said, turning away without another glance back at Astoria. 

Feeling injured at the fact that Draco had forgotten about their scheduled study, she sighed and set her bag down on the table. She wrangled her hair up, slipped her apron on, and went to the ingredients cupboard. 

"Why were you being so rude?" 

Hermione paused at the task of withdrawing a jar of salamander scales on hearing the annoyance that laced his voice, "I wasn't."

"You were," Draco said, coming to stand in front of her and reaching around her to get a few jars for himself. His eyebrows were knitted together.

"Well, I'm sorry if I hurt the feelings of your dear Astoria," Hermione huffed out before she could stop herself. 

Was that jealousy she was feeling?

Since when had she started to feel jealous of people with regard to Draco?

Since we became very good friends, her mind told her. 

"Come on, Granger, you're not really jealous or anything, are you? That would be very juvenile," Draco asked, looking down at her. The corners of his mouth lifted up in a hesitant sort of persuasive smile.

Hermione turned back to her work desk. She was being incredibly petty and stupid, she knew that. 

"I'm not jealous," Hermione mumbled, lighting the fire and pulling a cauldron to herself from across the table. 

"Then why- oh, the study," Draco realised, and nodded thoughtfully, "Couldn't you have just said that?"

He looked a little annoyed, but considered, "Maybe we can finish studies before eight?"

Hermione nodded, "Of course."

She had nothing to be jealous about anyways. Astoria and Draco had been friends since way before. Hermione was the new one. If anything, Astoria should have been the one feeling what Hermione was feeling. 

"Don't be jealous, Granger, you know you're the only Bucktooth know-it-all who happens to be my friend, and a good one at that," Draco said pacifyingly, and Hermione smiled back at him and shook her head. 

Mr. Blak had given them sixteen sheets of the syllabus for the St Mungo's exam, which was to be held on fifteenth January. It had all the portions for theory, practicals, and a large chunk of alchemical studies as well. On Mr. Blak's suggestion, Draco and Hermione had fixed study days, where they would spend an hour or two at either Draco or Hermione's place, arguing and quizzing each other and debating over which was more toxic, Monkshood or Bloodroot?

"You two, up front, now!"

Draco and Hermione shared a glance. They hadn't even started any work yet. What was Mr. Blak going to tell them off about?

"You weren't trying to smuggle Exstimulo, were you?" Hermione asked jokingly as they walked to the front. 

"I don't need Exstimulo," Draco said snidely, smirking down at her. 

"Hurry, hurry!" Mr. Blak looked excited about something. He bounded out from behind the counter and came to stand in front of them, his eyes shining with pride, "Oh, so proud- listen, they are handing out roll numbers and examination passes at St Mungo's. You must hurry, or they will all be handed out and there won't be a spot left. They put up apparition wards so you can't apparate directly inside - poor Tyberion, he's an old healer, ended up being trampled by a crowd of people who had apparated directly inside - so you have to take the visitor's entrance."

A spark of determination lit up in Draco's eyes, and Hermione herself felt suddenly very nervous and resolved at the same time. Almost half of November through, which meant that there was barely little more than a month and a half left until the exam. She would have to increase her study hours…

"Go on, hurry!" Mr. Blak burst out when neither of them moved for a whole minute, "Get to St Mungo's!"

"Right," Hermione said, pulling her wand out of her apron pocket. Draco grabbed his own. 

They apparated to an alley a little away from Purge and Dowse, Ltd. 

"Wand away," Hermione muttered a reminder. Draco nodded and stuffed his wand back into his pocket swiftly. 

They joined the crowd on the footpath, and began weaving through the people to get to their location. 

"This place is filthy," Draco said disdainfully, looking at a KitKat wrapper that flitted across in front of him, "They should have built St Mungo's at Diagon Alley."

"They couldn't find a spot big enough at Diagon Alley," Hermione said, recalling Alastor Moody's explanation she had heard in fifth year, "What I don't understand is why there aren't any more wizarding hospitals at different locations."

"I never thought about it," Draco admitted after some silence. Hermione had to quicken her pace to keep up with his long strides. 

They came to a stop in front of the hideous dummy, currently sporting a tacky lime green gown. 

"We're here for examination passes," Hermione whispered into the glass. 

The dummy nodded wordlessly, and the glass rippled. Hermione stepped through, followed shortly by Draco. 

"Sweet Salazar," Draco muttered. 

It was so crowded in the reception that there was barely any space for Draco and Hermione to stand. People were shouting, somewhere a Cuckoo Clock was going off loudly, a woman was singing an obnoxious Celestina Warbeck song although she looked unwilling, the lime green robed witches and wizards behind the reception desk were bustling about and looking agitated. 

"Reckon we should just come back later?" Draco asked, bending low so that Hermione could hear him over the din. 

"Mr. Blak said if we don't hurry, we won't get a slot," Hermione answered, "Come on, we'll go ask."

They managed to reach the reception desk, narrowly dodging a wizard repeatedly cartwheeling around the room at an unnaturally fast pace. 

"Uh, where can we get the examination passes, please?" Hermione asked, leaning down so that she wouldn't have to yell. 

The mediwizard passed his hand over his sweaty forehead and muttered something inaudible, then looked up at Hermione and Draco and did a double take. 

"Examination passes," Draco repeated, and the man was prevented from saying anything else. 

"Second floor, in the medicine hall," the man said, still looking at Hermione with his jaw dropped. Finally, the man cleared his throat, "Can I- may I- autograph?"

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, and nodded. The man quickly retrieved a parchment and handed it to Hermione with a quill. Hermione signed it and gave it back to him. 

"Does that happen often?" Draco asked when they were climbing up the stairs. 

"Your landlord asked for one too," Hermione laughed, "It doesn't happen too often, but it does happen sometimes. I don't mind, really, because they're all so nice."

"Your ego is swelling to uncontainable dimensions," Draco tutted. He looked only at the stairs as they ran up them. 

Halfway along, the portrait of a plump, dark haired witch with a certain petulance in her features began following them, while speaking unnecessarily loudly. 

"I heard Tracey and Hannah talking about you two being in Witch Weekly," the woman said excitedly, hurrying through the paintings to keep up with them, resulting in the occupants of the other paintings being knocked off their chairs and couches, "I didn't believe a word they said of course, but- oh my! It is true, isn't it? You're getting married?"

Several other people who were walking past turned and gave Hermione and Draco strange looks over their shoulders. Draco, who was forcibly ignoring the wild, exclamatory proclamations of the portrait witch, had turned a shade of pink Hermione hadn't seen before. Hermione herself was feeling uncomfortable. 

"Quit following us," Hermione admonished the portrait. Thankfully, the witch fell back to have an excited conversation with a bald, raisin like wizard in another portrait. 

"I didn't know people were still talking about that," Hermione said in a low voice so that only Draco could hear her.

"Me neither, but I don't care," Draco muttered back, "I've had people talking of worse things about me behind my back."

The reached the second floor landing and walked out into the hallway.

Hermione gave him a sympathetic look when he wasn't looking at her. When he threw such comments around so carelessly, Hermione realised that he really didn't care about what people said about him. Or he did, but he was too used to it to bother with doing anything. Maybe-

Hermione shrieked when Draco was launched off his feet when a trolley laden with bottles collided with him, her cry of "Watch out!" dying in her throat when the trolley and the person pushing it fell on top of Draco. 

"Malfoy!" Hermione couldn't really do much without the other person moving off first, so she held out a hand to the man. He grabbed it and pulled himself up, looking dazed. Hermione levitated the trolley and set it upright, and made the bottles repair themselves. Once that was done, she held out a hand to Draco, who was groaning on the floor. 

"I think I broke a rib," he said with an exaggerated groan. 

"Don't be so dramatic," Hermione said, but in reality, she was worried. Draco clasped onto her hand and she pulled him up. Hermione winced on his behalf when he placed a hand under his diaphragm. She bent to examine him for any visible damage, "I don't think anything happened, but it will bruise…"

She took his hand off and he hissed in pain when she urged him to straighten up. 

"It'll be fine, just move a little," Hermione said, slipping a firm arm around his waist as a support. 

"Granger, don't, everyone is looking."

The words were whispered into her ear with something similar to terror. Hermione looked around them. Every single person in the hall was looking at her and Draco, with their jaws dropped and eyes wide. Someone even had the audacity to flash a camera their way. 

Hermione's nostrils flared with fury. She was not bothered about what people thought about them at all.

"Don't you all have anything better to do?" Hermione questioned loudly, causing all the people to hurriedly look away and get back to work. 

"I think I can walk by myself," Draco said, and only then did Hermione realise how close they were standing to each other. She slowly let go of him, and seeing that he could move by himself, she exhaled. 

"Watch out where you're taking that thing!" Draco shouted over his shoulder to the embarrassed man who had been behind the trolley.

The man pushed his lower lips out and shouted "Sorry!".

"Git," Draco brushed the dust off himself and resumed walking. 

The walk to the doors at the end of the hall seemed unnaturally long. People tried to be discreet with their whispers, but failed miserably. Hermione spotted Tracey Davis in a whispered conversation with another witch sporting purple hair, and threw her a fierce glare. 

"Draco!"

Hermione paused in the action of pushing the door open with her hand and turned around. Pansy and Blaise were running down the hall, looking alarmed and rather scared about something. 

Draco had gone rigid beside her. His jaw worked as he worried, and he swallowed once. 

Pansy and Blaise came to a stop a foot away from Hermione and Draco, and Blaise said without waiting, "Your father."

All the colour drained from Draco's face, and he took a step back as if Blaise's words had acted as a physical blow to him. 

"We weren't ready, it just happened-" Pansy had a look of sorrow on her face, and even as Hermione watched, Pansy placed a hand over her mouth and turned away. 

Hermione couldn't move. Had Lucius Malfoy-?

"Go," Hermione found herself saying, and she placed a bracing hand on Draco's shoulder, "Go, I'll get your examination pass."

Draco looked down at her, gratitude written all over his face. Without a word, he turned and began walking away at a brisk pace, in the direction Pansy and Blaise had come from. Blaise gave Hermione a half-nod.  The three of them broke into a run halfway, and soon went around a corner and out of sight. 

Hermione steadied herself. She hoped against all odds that whatever the problem was would be sorted out the way it was supposed to be, for Draco if not for anything else. 

Knowing that there was nothing that she could do in her present position, Hermione pushed the door open and entered. 

It was even more crowded than the reception. With her mind only half present in what she was doing, she joined a queue at the far end of the room where there were the least number of people. 

She waited for a long, long time, taking one step forward every few minutes. Her head was in some kind of dual thinking mode, so that she knew what was going on, yet she didn't know what exactly was going on. 

When she finally reached the front desk, she accepted the quill the mediwizard handed her and bent over the long list of parchment. She scribbled down her own name first, followed by Draco's. After filling out the other columns, she straightened up.

"You'll get your pass there," the wizard pointed disinterestedly to the other corner of the large room.

Hermione mumbled a thanks and, avoiding the feet of other people, managed to reach the other end, where there was another long line of people. 

The man in front of Hermione took much too long, and had too many questions. Hermione actually had half a mind to ask him speed up after he had spoken for around five minutes, but the man left just when she was about to tap his shoulder. 

"Name?" The woman at the desk asked without looking up from her register. 

"Hermione Granger," Hermione said, and quickly added, "I'm also picking a pass up for Draco Malfoy."

"Do you have your recommendations from your masters or employers?" The woman asked in the same dull monotone. 

Hermione closed her mouth that had been open to answer 'yes', and remembered that she did not, in fact, have the recommendations. Hermione cleared her throat, "No, but-"

"No passes without recommendations," the woman snapped instantly. 

"But I can-"

"Please go back to where you gave your name and have it removed-"

"Can I-?"

"-or I will call the authorities."

Hermione glowered down at the woman, "Can I get the recommendations by today?"

The woman snorted, "If there are any slots left by then, I'll be glad to offer them to you."

Hermione bit down on her tongue, then said, as scathingly as possible, "Thank you."

She left the woman chuckling darkly to herself and left the medicine hall. 

She would have to get them as fast as possible, but she couldn't apparate from here because the wards were up. Or maybe they weren't…

Hermione grabbed her wand and twisted on the spot. Nothing happened. After trying again and again and receiving curious looks, she gave up and rushed back downstairs, and out the reception. Hermione brushed past other pedestrians, giving rise to a few cries of outrage. On reaching the alley, she apparated. 

Hermione flew down the Diagon Alley street from The Leaky Cauldron to the apothecary, and barged inside. 

Mr. Blak looked up happily, but his grin fell when he caught sight of Hermione's face, and how haywire her appearance was. He arched a brow, "What happened?"

"Recommendations," Hermione panted, terribly out of breath, "We forgot the recommendations."

"Merlin's boots," Mr. Blak hastily bent under the counter, and after a lot of rummaging, during which time Hermione fixed her hair and caught her breath, he found two neat sheets of parchment and handed them to Hermione. 

"Thanks!" Hermione was back out the door before Mr. Blak could verbalise a reply. She apparated again, and this time felt a distinct queasiness. Not waiting to let the sensation subside, Hermione once again hurtled down the footpath to Purge and Dowse, Ltd., barely restrained herself from yelling at the dummy to move aside, and shot up the stairs to the second floor. 

The woman who had challenged her currently had nobody to attend to. Hermione stalked over to the desk and slapped the recommendations down on it with a saccharine smile in place. 

The woman looked up, startled. 

"Now may I get the passes?" Hermione asked, breathing heavily from all the running. 

The woman huffed, and with a flick of her wand two narrow pieces of thick parchment flew into Hermione's hands. 

"Thank you," Hermione said, pocketing the passes. 

Hermione left the medicine hall and collapsed on a chair nearby. She hadn't run this much in ages.

Now that she had claimed the passes, she had two options. The first was to go back to the apothecary and wait for Draco to return. Of course, he may not return at all. Her second was to stay at the hospital and look for him. She wouldn't barge in on him and his family, but she could definitely wait.

Hermione bit her lip in concentration. One part of her, the slightly less sensitive part, told her to leave. The other half told her to wait. Besides, he had gone with her all the way to Australia. She owed him this.

Without completely planning on doing it, Hermione stood and followed the direction she had seen the three Slytherins take-

It had been nearly two hours. Had the queues really taken so long?

She quickened her pace and turned around the corner. That particular hall contained private rooms and wards instead of public wards. Hermione didn't hesitate, and began walking down it. 

She found Pansy and Blaise outside the door of the room at the very end. Blaise caught sight of her first, and he nudged Pansy to let her know. 

"What do you want?" Pansy asked coldly once Hermione had stopped a few feet away from them. 

"I…" Hermione didn't really know what to tell them.

"Relax, Granger," Blaise said, running a hand over his face, "Why are you so apprehensive around us?"

Hermione was about to retort but he interrupted her. 

"Draco's inside. You can wait if you want."

Pansy turned her icy glare on Blaise, but he placed a hand on her elbow soothingly, "She can stay if she wants, Pans. We have no right to tell her what not to do. This isn't Hogwarts anymore."

Hermione was dumbstruck. Although she had known, while at school, that Blaise Zabini was perhaps the most logical person in Draco's gang, also perhaps the second wittiest, maybe second only to Draco, she had never seen any evidence. At the Ministry, they had been assigned to work together just twice. And he had been unbearably sarcastic and sharp tongued, and had still showed subtle signs of blood prejudice. Now, she knew that Blaise wasn't a complete arse after all. 

There were no further words exchanged. Hermione sank down on a chair opposite the door, and waited.