million things one person would think when they awoke to find their head resting on top of Draco Malfoy's chest, but the only one I was thinking about was:

What bloody time is it?

Staying the night was a bad idea, considering it was a school day and the other Slytherin students were more inclined to be up and about at early times, so it was safe to say I started my morning off with panic and stress. Blinking my eyes open wildly, I tried to adjust my gaze into the sea-lit room, sliding myself away from the boy's embrace to stand onto my feet.

But then I forgot I wasn't completely awake, and instead slipped on the satin covers and banged my head on the bedside table with a whack.

That managed to spring my boyfriend awake from his peaceful sleep.

Draco mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand as he slowly propped himself up onto his elbows. His words were jumbled sleepily, "whayoudoing?"

I glanced back up at him, staring at his messy blond hair, tired eyes, and half-asleep expression, but I scrambled back onto my feet as quietly as I could. The clock told me it was sometime around 3am, which gave me more than enough time to leave the boy's room undetected.

"I have to leave before anyone else catches me here," I noted quietly, "sorry I can't stay longer."

He dropped his face into the pillow in disappointment, his voice muffled. "Mhm."

As I snatched my shoes up from under the bed, I slipped them on, bouncing awkwardly on my left leg to maintain balance. Draco could barely open his eyes, which was understandable, considering how early it was.

"You can go on back to sleep," I said, adjusting the hem of my vest, "I'll see you at breakfast."

The boy scoffed breathily, "don't you mean, 'watch pitifully from afar' as Potter wraps his arms around you?"

No, I did not mean that.

"I've made it clear that I don't like Harry touching me non-platonically," I said reassuringly, nearing the door, "and I've also made it clear that even if I was to go to the Yule Ball with him, it would be far from romantic."

Draco was still getting swallowed back into his previous slumber, but managed to throw out a spiteful comment. "I hate him."

I blinked, "I don't think that—"

"Potter can die."

Oh, it was too early for another one of his rows. I furrowed a brow, my fingertips resting gently over the metal door handle. I had to leave soon, and I didn't want to accidentally run into Crab Legs or Gargoyle if I dared to stay longer.

"Darling, please don't say that," I scolded, exhaling briefly, "and besides, I think history makes it clear that Harry can't die, and your wishes will barely leave another scar on his forehead even if you tried."

Draco didn't care, "You-Know-Who is no match for my jealousy."

"I highly doubt that," I smiled softly, clicking open the door, "I'll see you later, alright?"

"Alright, love," the boy mumbled back.

And with that last remark, I slipped out of the common rooms and into the empty corridors of the school, promptly wishing I had the Marauder's Map as an asset. At any moment, Snape could fling himself out from a gutter and catch me red handed (although the professor seemed to favor me more than my fellow peers—which I now understood to be the influence of Draco).

Then it was through the courtyard, up the stairs, down another passageway, up some more stairs, and through the fat lady's portrait with a quick 'Caput Draconis'.

I recently began to find that password funny.

The key to get into the Gryffindor's most cherished place was to say the partial name of my Slytherin boyfriend. Am I being cringey for saying that? Yes, leave me alone, I have bigger problems to deal with. All I had to do was sneak back up the stairs, sneak back down the stairs, find my dorm segment, and pretend to be asleep before Hermione—

"Had a good night's sleep, did you?" A sharp voice said, jolting my soul out of my body, "or were you too preoccupied with Malfoy to actually get any?"

I didn't need to turn my head to recognize the scowling voice floating around the room, or the shadowy figure of one of my best friend's eyeing me with complete disappointment across the room.

Hermione was positioned at the edge of her bed, her red pajamas tousled messily, and her hair uncombed, which made it clear she had been up for much longer than me. She must have heard me sneak out a few hours ago.

And If her vengeful expression wasn't enough to scare me to bits, the shiny flash of a recognizable object drew my attention to her hands, where...

She was holding Draco's ring.

How did she find that? I swear I left it...oh. I forgot to put it in my beside drawer before I left.

Okay, okay, okay, this is fine, this is totally fine, no reason to panic. I can get myself out of this. Did she say Draco? No, she must have been mistaken. Breathe, [y/n], breathe, play it smooth. Change the subject!

"Nice day for a swim," I choked out, making a beeline towards my bed, "I think I'm going to drown myself now, if you don't mind."

Oh, Hermione minded.

She more than minded. She minded so much that she leapt off of her mattress, grabbed my vest by the collar, yanking me back into the center of the room with a hardened expression on her face. Her eyes scanned me quickly, as if she was searching for any sort of clue to her hypothesis, but was left with nothing.

I was too frozen in fear to have any sort of reaction.

"Even if you did try to drown yourself, I would purposely resurrect you so you can rightfully explain yourself," she snapped, shoving the metal ring into my palm, "where did you get this?"

I shivered, still desperately trying to cling onto any hope, "found it on the floor."

"Along with those Slytherin robes you wore?"

"Yes, actually, how did you know?"

"I can only assume you're talking about Malfoy's floor," she spat out, stalking away from me, "I suspected this the day you showed up in the wrong uniform, because out of all the usual Slytherin's in our class, Draco was the only one missing."

She was smart. Gosh, I hate that she's smart. While Harry and Ron were hollering at me, she naturally took that opportunity to find out the answer, and she found it. Not to mention, the ring only confirmed it, and there was no point lying my way out of it now.

"What do you see in him, [y/n]?" She sighed, collapsing onto her bed, "how could you ever see something in him?"

I shrugged, "because I have eyes?"

I knew this wasn't going to play out well, but comedy was the only way I saw myself getting out of this conversation alive.

Hermione scowled, "you know what I mean."

"And I know what I said," I restated, "you asked me what I saw in him, and I told you the truth. I see him for him, and there shouldn't be any other explanation, so let's just forget this conversation happened."

"Don't you dare think you can get out of this."

"Why not?"

"Because your idiotic decisions, and taste in men, might I add, is a huge problem," she said, "did you really think you could sneak behind our backs and have a snog fest with the one person who terrorized us for years?"

Ew, she said snog fest. I hope I never hear that word come out of Hermione's mouth ever again. blegh.

I sighed, "he didn't mean to do it."

"But he still did," she snapped, "and every slur he's ever called me will never disappear, and every insult he's given to Ron will never disappear, and Harry, don't even make me start on Harry!"

"Mione'..."

"There has to be a reason! Are you trying to change him?" She mumbled, beginning to pace, "you can't change people like that, [y/n], that's not how the world works.'

"Well, I'm not trying to change him, Hermione. Why the hell would I want to change him?"

"Because there's no logical explanation as to why you would ever go for him."

This. This is what I was afraid of. Judgement. The knowledge that someone felt that your life was so defenseless that they could ridicule, and criticize, and hate on the way you lived.

And I never thought Hermione would ever do that.

"I'm not trying to change him, and it's not my place to tell him who to be," I shot back, "now, I can tell him what's right and what's wrong in certain situations, but I'm not responsible for who he chooses to be."

"And he chose to be a mean, horrible, bully!"

"Because he never had a choice to be anything but! You know his family, Hermione," I huffed, narrowing my eyes, "and I hate to sound dramatic, but once you get to know him, you'll know he's not all he seems to be."

"There's no way someone like Draco Malfoy could be loving."

"And how would you know that?"

"Because he's unlovable!"

"Well I love him," I frowned, "and you're not the one he loves, Mione'."

"Love?" she gasped, obviously stunned. Her curls seemed to deflate at my words, and her eyes widened into horrified stares. It was like I hit her with a basketball. She blinked, "how long has this been going on?"

I bit my lip, "almost five months."

"And you really believe he loves you back?"

"I don't need to believe something I know," I sighed, glancing at the carpeted floor, "and I know he does."

There was a bit of unsettled silence, the two of us on the verge of drowning in the tension that hung in the air. I understood where she was coming from, since she received the worst from Draco's past actions, but I wanted her to trust me.

I needed her to trust me.

"Have you told Harry?" The girl mumbled, rubbing her forehead stressfully.

I shook my head, "you're the first to find out."

"It'll crush him, you know? He's been in love with you for four years."

"And that makes him entitled to me?" I scoffed, "sometimes this school forgets I don't belong to Harry. I am my own person, and if Harry can't understand that I love who I love, Harry doesn't deserve to be with me in the first place."

"I just don't think you're thinking this through!"

For Godric's sake.

I had enough of this. The fighting, the bantering, the stubborn resistance that the girl was giving me, just because she didn't want to accept that things weren't going according to plan. Everyone thought I'd end up with Harry. No one let me escape that.

No one except for Draco.

"Hermione, please just trust me," I said, my voice raising, "you can't yell at me for going behind your back and keeping this a secret, when the way you're acting right now is perfect reasoning as to why I did!"

She opened her mouth to speak, "I just—"

"No," I snapped, "stop talking, and listen for once!"

"[y/n]..."

"I'm sorry for what Draco's done, and believe me, he's sorry for it too," I spat out, "but give him a chance to fix things before you shove both of us away!"

I've never yelled at her before.

I've never yelled at anyone really, it was just harsh words and heated language, but I had never raised my voice like that. And there was an explanation. I knew Draco was worth defending, and I'd do anything to make life better for him.

Even if it meant going against one of my best friends.

Hermione was silent for a moment, her eyes petrified in thought, and I knew she was thinking things through. When she wasn't talking, she was always thinking. Searching for answers. Searching for an explanation. I expected her to scold me for my tone, draw the line, or storm out of the room and tell the world my secret, because that's what anyone else would have done.

But she didn't.

And the next thing I knew, she had pulled me into a hug, her arms wrapped my back tighter than she had ever hugged me before. I hesitated, before squeezing back. We were like that for a moment, just silent in a mix of emotions, and finally I heard her speak.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to say those things."

I mumbled into her hair, "don't be sorry."

"Well, I am sorry, and I'll stand by whatever decision you make, because I trust you."

"Thank you."

She pulled away, a soft smile on her face. She seemed calmer now, as if she finally found the answer she had been searching for. She could see it in my eyes. She could see just how much I was willing to put on the line for Draco, and now she finally understood.

"I suppose this is why you rejected Harry's offer" she laughed quietly, taking a step back, "you'll be going with Malfoy instead, won't you?"

I wish.

"No, actually," I sighed, "we can't be seen together in public."

"Oh. I'm sorry, [y/n]."

"Don't be, we're used to it," I nodded, giving her a weak smile. While it was something we had come to accept, it still hurt to think about. I changed the attention away from me, "who will you be going with?"

Hermione's face automatically became a shade of pink, "um, well..."

"Yeah?"

"Viktor Krum asked me a few days ago," she noted sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck, "but I didn't accept his offer yet."

"Why not?"

"I was hoping Ron would ask me, but, well...he clearly isn't planning on it, so maybe it's best if I just go with Krum."

I nodded my head, patting her shoulder in sympathy. As I returned towards my bed, I climbed onto the mattress, letting my back hit the headboard with a thud. It was still so early I could barely think.

Not to mention, I almost got into a fight with Hermione. I glanced at her, watching as she slowly slinked back towards her bed with a sad expression. She didn't want to go with Krum, it was clear. She wanted to go with Ron. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to get it through his thick head, the ball was in a few days, and he was running out of time.

So we were two girls. Dateless. Each of us with our own boy struggles.

Wait.

"Hermione," I said, sitting upright, "don't go to sleep yet."

She was already about to close her eyes, but popped them back open in interest. I opened my mouth to speak, but cut myself off briefly. Was I really about to do this? Really? Yes. Alright, here goes nothing.

"Do you..." I started, my lips twitching into a smile, "want to go to the Yule Ball with me?"