Monday morning, Draco was already at his seat in Ancient Runes. Granger and Theo were nowhere to be seen.
He stared at the symbols Professor Babbling had chalked across the board, his mind still tangled in the events of the weekend. The door creaked open and he glanced up — half expecting the two of them to walk in together.
It was just Theo, looking slightly rumpled but otherwise unbothered.
Theo dropped into the seat in front of him. "You look like you're in a mood," he remarked, flipping open his textbook.
"Do I," Draco said flatly.
"Where's Hermione?"
"And why would I know where Granger is?"
"You're very defensive, for someone who has no idea," Theo said, glancing sideways at him.
"In case you forgot, you punched me on Thursday, Nott." Draco opened his own textbook. "Why do you even care? She's not your problem."
"Right. You punched me first." Theo leaned back in his chair. "But if you're planning on making her your problem, then yeah — I care."
Draco's chest tightened. He kept his expression neutral. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Theo's smirk widened. "Nothing."
"Come off it."
Granger's laugh filtered in from the corridor. Draco's eyes went to the open door without his permission.
Theo followed his gaze, clearly delighted. "Like a bell," he murmured.
"I'll join you for lunch, all right? You're not coming to class with me!"
Draco's grip on his quill tightened when he heard Vaisey's voice in the hall.
"Fine, fine — but I deserve a kiss for carrying your bag, at the very least."
"Carrying my book bag is such a hardship," Granger's voice came back, dry as dust.
Theo couldn't help himself. "That's a real 'I'm not jealous, I swear' sort of look you've got on, Malfoy."
Draco shot him a withering glare. Theo raised his hands in mock surrender.
Granger came through the door, caught sight of Theo, and smiled. "Morning."
"Morning. Was that Vaisey I heard?"
She hesitated, glancing briefly at Draco. "You heard him?"
Draco's attention sharpened at the pause.
"Hard to miss," Theo said, settling more comfortably onto his desk. "I'm surprised, actually."
Granger sat down and uncapped her quill. "What about?"
Theo's eyes glinted. "Surprised you two haven't kissed yet."
Draco looked between them.
Granger's quill stilled. The heat climbed her face before she could stop it.
"Your date went well — I was there, I can confirm. And you've seen each other again since, and now he's walking you to class, and still no kiss?" Theo continued.
"He hasn't kissed you?" Draco asked. The words came out quieter than intended — almost disbelieving.
Granger turned to face him, clearly surprised by the tone. It wasn't mocking. It wasn't sharp. It was simply... curious. She wasn't sure which unsettled her more — that he'd asked, or the way he'd asked it.
"That's none of your business," she said, steadier than she felt.
"It's just odd."
She scoffed. "Because you're such an authority on romance?"
"If he hasn't kissed you yet, he's not interested, Granger."
"It's been one date. Theo and Daphne went on one date, and they're not snogging in a broom cupboard." She hissed.
Theo flushed. "Leave me out of this. And Daphne and I went as friends."
Draco and Granger both scoffed. "Please," they muttered in unison.
"For your information, Malfoy," Granger said, lowering her voice, "Vaisey has tried. I just haven't let him." She turned back around. "Now leave me alone."
Draco leaned back slowly.
He's tried. I just haven't let him.
She didn't want to kiss him. And Merlin, but that was satisfying.
---
Hermione slumped into a seat at the Slytherin table for lunch, sighed, and dropped her head into her hands.
Pansy looked up from her plate, mildly surprised. Daphne's lips curled into a knowing smile.
"What happened?" Pansy asked. "You've been glued to Vaisey all weekend."
Hermione lifted her head. "I know. I don't know what it is — he's fine, I suppose. Good-looking, even. But every time I'm with him, he tries so hard to impress me that I can't stand it."
Daphne laughed. "His intellect doesn't captivate you?"
"He has never read a book in his life. And he keeps trying to kiss me." Hermione let out a groan. "I don't know how else to get out of it."
"Just tell him you're not interested," Pansy said.
"I can't."
"Why not?"
Hermione stared at the table and muttered something under her breath.
Pansy shook her head. "Pardon?"
"Because of Malfoy!" Hermione snapped, looking up. "He's always watching, just waiting for me to make a fool of myself. I cannot give him the satisfaction."
Pansy blinked. "You've got to be joking."
"It's not the way you're making it sound," Hermione said, looking at Daphne.
Daphne tilted her head. "So what you're telling me is that you've spent the entire weekend with Vaisey... because Draco's got your attention?"
"It's not like that."
Pansy was already muttering something about Romania. "Tell me you are not going to kiss Vaisey just to prove something to Draco."
Hermione froze, her mouth half open.
"N-no. No, I wouldn't do that." She settled on it. "I wouldn't kiss Vaisey to prove a point to Ron either. That's not who I am."
"Then just tell Vaisey the truth," Daphne said gently. "You'll be doing him a favour."
Hermione groaned. "I know. I still don't have to like it."
---
Vaisey insisted on walking Hermione to Potions after lunch.
She was barely listening as they descended toward the dungeons, turning over the conversation in her head, trying to find the right words to end things gracefully.
He looked at ease beside her, carefree and smiling. And he never stopped talking. One boast rolling into the next, barely pausing for breath.
As they reached the classroom, Hermione felt the knot in her stomach tighten. She turned to face him.
"So what do you say?" Vaisey asked, stopping.
She blinked. "What do I think?" She hadn't caught the question.
"Another Butterbeer this weekend?"
"Another Butterbeer..." she repeated. One more hour across a table from him. One more hour of nodding along.
"Look, Vaisey—" she began, but her eyes slipped past him to the staircase — and there was Ron. With Lavender. Coming down toward them.
Without thinking, Hermione grabbed Vaisey by the arm, turned them around so her back was to Ron, and kissed him.
She regretted it immediately.
Vaisey kissed her back with considerably more enthusiasm than the situation warranted. She was already trying to find a graceful exit strategy when she opened her eyes and found herself looking directly at Malfoy.
Standing a few feet away. Watching.
Whatever she'd been thinking about Ron evaporated.
Hermione pulled back.
Three things registered at once: the grin spreading across Vaisey's face, Ron's footsteps halting behind her, and Malfoy in front of her, expression blank in the way it only went when something had hit him somewhere he hadn't expected.
She was going to be sick.
"Hermione!" Ron's voice cut through. He grabbed her arm. "What the bloody hell—"
"Don't grab me," she said quietly, pulling free. She turned back around. Malfoy was gone.
"Vaisey — I'll see you later," she said, and walked into the classroom before anyone could say another word.
Inside, she could see Malfoy and Pansy already deep in conversation at their table.
She went to her seat and pressed her forehead to the desk.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, sitting down.
Hermione shook her head.
Harry glanced at Ron.
"She was snogging the enemy," Ron muttered.
Harry's eyes went wide. "Malfoy?"
Hermione's head snapped up. "No!" she said loudly.
Lavender laughed. "As if Malfoy would ever snog Hermione."
The air went out of her. "I beg your pardon?"
Lavender twirled her hair. "It's not like it was him, so I don't see why it matters — but Malfoy and you? It's ridiculous. He'd never—"
Something sharp lodged in Hermione's chest. The implication hung in the air — not just that it was unlikely, but that it was unthinkable. That she was beneath the consideration.
"I don't know what's more absurd," Hermione said, her voice tight. "You thinking you know anything about Malfoy, or Harry thinking I'd actually snog him."
"But you were snogging Vaisey," Ron muttered.
"It is not a big deal," Hermione said flatly, turning to her book.
"Look, Hermione, it's nothing against you," Lavender sighed, in the tone of someone being terribly magnanimous.
"It doesn't feel that way," Hermione muttered. She found the page on the board and stared at it without reading.
Harry's voice came quietly. "Are you sure you're all right?"
Ron was still shaking his head. "Vaisey, of all people..."
"Ron," Hermione said, patience paper-thin, "it wasn't a big deal. And I don't understand why you care so much."
He opened his mouth to argue. Harry shot him a look.
Lavender, however, pressed on. "Ron doesn't care. Why would he? We're perfectly happy."
"Ron and I," Hermione corrected without looking up, counting out mistletoe berries for her potion. The irony wasn't lost on her.
---
Hermione skipped dinner and went straight back to Gryffindor, not wanting another round with Ron or a chance encounter with Vaisey. She had a Slug Club meeting in thirty minutes and needed a plan before then.
A knock at her dormitory door. She frowned and crossed the room.
Luna Lovegood was standing in the corridor, perfectly serene. "Hello, Hermione. I was looking for my shoes and I found someone standing outside the portrait hole who'd like to speak with you."
Hermione blinked. "Right. Thank you, Luna."
"Of course. If you see my shoes, do let me know." Luna smiled and skipped off.
Hermione descended the stairs and stepped out of the portrait hole, scanning the corridor.
Her stomach dropped.
Malfoy was leaning against the wall, eyes moving through the hall as though afraid to be seen this far into Gryffindor territory.
"Malfoy," she said simply.
He pushed off the wall and moved toward her. She stepped back instinctively.
"If this is about making fun of me—"
"I came to offer you help." He cut her off, as though he'd already anticipated the protest. "With Potions."
She blinked. "With Potions."
"Yes — Potions. Try to keep up, Granger."
The idea was baffling. Draco Malfoy, voluntarily offering to help her. She didn't doubt his ability — he was talented, she'd always known that. But this felt like a trap.
"What's the catch?"
He pressed his lips into a line. "I need something in return."
"You need my help?"
"Yes. Don't make it strange. I'll help you in Potions and you help me with Ancient Runes."
Hermione folded her arms. "Why would you need help with Ancient Runes?"
"Not for class. I have something that needs translating and it's written in Greek runes." He was deliberately vague, and they both knew it.
She shook her head. "I need more than that to agree to this, Malfoy."
Malfoy scowled. "No, you don't. It's need-to-know."
"And I need to know."
He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. "You don't trust me, Granger?"
She actually laughed. "No! Why would I? You tried to ruin my date—"
"Your date went fine. He showed up, didn't he?" Malfoy drawled.
"You've called me names since first year. You show up out of nowhere with an offer you can barely bring yourself to make, in exchange for something you're being deliberately cryptic about. Forgive me if that sounds suspicious."
Malfoy stepped closer, lowering his voice. "I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important. You think I enjoy this? I'm admitting you're better at this than I am. Take it. Revel in it, if you like."
Hermione studied him carefully. She didn't trust him. She probably never fully would. But she'd given Pansy a chance. Theo. Blaise. Daphne.
"No tricks?" she asked.
Malfoy held her gaze, something like surprise crossing his face at the shift in her tone. "No tricks. I just need help."
"When do we start?"