Harry felt as though he had been punched in the gut when he got to the window to see that the source of the tapping noise was none other than Draco's owl, sitting haughtily on a branch outside the window and looking at him with all the disdain of a bird who knows his worth. What the hell was Draco doing, sending him a letter? He stared at the creature, then turned, planning to ignore it, before whirling back around with a torn expression. Crossing his arms, Harry stood glaring at the owl as emotions churned in him. He considered opening the letter, then disregarded the idea, then turned back to it. Not only was he craving Draco and wanting to have some - any - contact with him, but he was curious. And worried. Harry hadn't worn his ring since the day of the argument, so he had no idea if Draco had been hurt, or if he was trying to apologise, or even if something else had happened. It was only due to Hermione that Harry had kept the ring at all - and she had so far been keeping it safe for him. It was as Harry thought this that he realised Hermione was the only one who could help him - she'd know what to do. Twisting around once more, he strode from the room, leaving the agitated bird to wait outside.

"Hey, Harry," The twins whispered in unison, stopping him on the landing outside his room. Fred continued. "Look, about the shop, we might just be able to get ourselves a place in Diagon

Alley-"

"That's great," Harry interrupted. "Look, have you seen Hermione?"

The twins wore matching expressions of befuddlement. George pointed down the landing. "Sitting room."

"Thanks," Harry said, already walking.

He found her on one of the recently cleaned armchairs, reading one of the books she'd been given for Christmas.

"Hermione,"

"Mm?" She said, distractedly.

"I need your help with something," Harry was conscious that Sirius and Mr Weasley were also in the room, so tried to act as casually as possible. "It's, uh, homework stuff."

She looked at him, instantly suspicious. "...Okay," she said slowly, putting her book to the side and following him out of the door.

As soon as they were out of earshot of the sitting room, Harry turned to Hermione and grabbed her wrist, pulling her along with him in his haste.

"Harry, wha- Harry, seriously! What's wrong?"

"He sent me a letter," Harry said, still pulling her along behind him as they arrived in the room he and Ron were sharing. "Look. It's his owl."

Hermione gave a little "oh" of understanding. She looked at Harry. "Why d'you need me?"

Harry threw his hands up in a half exasperated, half pleading gesture. "I don't know what to do!"

Hermione thought for a moment. "You need to make sure he's okay, Harry. Even if you're cross with him, you can't truthfully say you don't care."

Harry sighed. "It's just... I don't really know how to explain this... it's just that I'm scared to have contact with him again just as I'm beginning to get used to this, in case it makes everything worse again. I don't want it to get like a few weeks ago."

Hermione reached over and took his hand, squeezing lightly. "Of course you don't. But think about it - Draco cares about you. I'm sure he wouldn't do anything he knew would make you upset?"

"You don't know-" Harry began, angrily, "I mean, if he did care about me, why did he say those things, huh?"

"Harry, please!" Hermione looked startled at his quickness to anger and dropped his hand. "I didn't mean... Oh, whatever."

Harry felt bad as he looked at Hermione's insulted expression. "Sorry, 'mione. You were just trying to help." He said, sheepishly.

"Yeah, I was." She said, icily. Then, she relented. "Look, if you want, I'll read it for you. I'll make sure nothing's wrong."

Harry considered the idea. "That actually sounds like a pretty good solution."

"Yeah, well, I'm good at those," Hermione said with a shrug. She moved towards the window. "I'll read it. You go distract yourself."

Harry nodded and left the room.

0o0o

"Have you really been sitting there this whole time?" Hermione asked as she left Harry and Rons' room, an envelope in her hand.

"It wasn't very long," Harry said defensively, quickly standing up from the grubby floor. "What was the letter?"

"A Christmas card." Hermione shrugged. "Nothing more. Seems perfectly innocent to me. You can read it if you want?"

Harry looked at the envelope in Hermione's hands for a moment, then took it before he changed his mind.

"I'll leave you to it," Hermione said, already walking back to her book in the living room. Harry barely noticed her go. Walking back into his room, he pulled out the card.

It was very small, much smaller than the envelope, and on it was a drawing - more like a doodle - of some snowflakes. Harry opened it, and read;

Harry,

I hope you're having a really wonderful Christmas.

Love, Draco

Harry blinked. Turning the letter over, he looked to see if there was any more writing on the back. There wasn't. Then it struck him that he should tap it with his wand, and, feeling stupid for not doing so before, took it from his pocket and tapped the card. A single line of writing appeared at the bottom, and Harry's stomach contracted.

Ps. I really, really miss you.

0o0o

Harry sat staring into the fire, long after Mr Weasley's snores could be heard drifting down from the top floor. He held the card in his hands, turning it over again and again as he watched the last flames of the dying fire flicker in the near-darkness. He didn't know what he was feeling or thinking. He didn't know how long he had sat there.

"Harry,"

Jumping up from the sofa, Harry whirled around to find himself pointing his wand at Hermione, who was wearing a dressing gown and slippers, and was looking at him with one eyebrow raised. Her hair was wrapped in a silk scarf, which Harry knew was to keep it from frizzing and drying out. She looked at his wand.

"You want to point that thing away?"

"Sorry," Harry shook himself, sitting back down on the sofa. "I'm feeling a bit off."

Hermione nodded, sitting down next to him and tucking her legs under her body. "What's wrong?"

"What do you think?"

She looked at him. "I want you to tell me exactly what's wrong. I know generally, but you need to define the problem before you start to fix it."

Harry sighed. Her logic, as always, was indisputable. "It's..." He searched for the words. "I think it's the confliction. I miss him so badly, I don't even know how to describe it. But I keep hearing those things he said to me in my mind, and I just can't forgive him, you know? He completely betrayed me."

Hermione nodded. "Well, that's totally understandable. I wouldn't expect you to move past that easily, if at all."

"But then what can I do?" Harry said, his voice rising in frustration. "I'm stuck!"

"No, you're not," Hermione said, gently. "Work the problem, don't just do nothing."

They were silent for a while, both looking into the fire.

"What did you do with the ring?" Harry asked, suddenly.

"I still have it, don't worry. Why?"

"I don't know," Harry sighed.

"...You want it back?" She ventured, cautiously.

Shrugging, Harry shuffled into a more comfortable position and rubbed his eyes, not looking at her. He felt awkward, though he didn't know why. Hermione watched him.

"Do you want to know what I think?"

He nodded.

"I think that this can only go on for so long. You have to at least listen to what he has to say, for closure, if for nothing else." Reaching into the pocket of her dressing gown, she took something out and placed it on the sofa in-between her and Harry, where it gleamed, reflecting the firelight on its golden surface. "I can't make your choices for you, Harry. Just do what you think is right."

Long after she had gone, Harry stared at the ring. Tiredness felt like a weight pressing down on him. Finally, he picked up the band of gold and slid it on to its familiar place on the ring finger of his right hand. The weight of it felt comforting after not wearing it for so long. Then he dragged himself off the sofa and collapsed on top of his bed, where he fell into an instant sleep.