They're back in Hermione's safe house, reading in her library, when Draco breaks the calm air they've settled into. "What do you say to a game?"

Hermione lifts her head, pulling herself from the other world her book had dragged her into. She blinks for a moment, shedding the plot of the book to focus on reality. "What kind of game? I don't want to play something ridiculous or embarrassing, so don't bother suggesting anything like that," she responds in an offhanded sort of way, wanting to return to her book.

"I wasn't going to suggest any game like that," Draco snorts derisively. "What I meant was an intelligence game." He sets his book aside, marking the page before closing it completely. Hermione responds to his offer in the way he knew she would.

Her head, which had been slowly drifting back down to peer at her book, shoots back up and her eyes go wide. A small smile stretches across her lips. The novel that had been in her lap slides to the side as she leans forward to sit on the edge of her seat.

"An intelligence game?" Hermione echoes. She almost believes that she misheard him. Her doubts are soothed, though, when he nods his head in affirmation. "I'd love to play. Whatever sort of game it is, I'll participate."

Draco chuckles and stretches his leg out across the space between them to poke her with his foot. "Someone's eager," he teases, not unkindly.

Hermione flushes and ducks her head. "Oh hush, you," she mutters.

"No matter. I can only assume it's because you don't often get to play these sorts of games, correct? It must be all quidditch with those...friends of yours," he says, hesitating a little over the word friends.

Surprised that he guessed it so quickly, Hermione peeks up at him through her lashes. "It's not their fault that quidditch isn't something I'm very good at."

"Well this is something we're both good at," Draco promises.

"You still have yet to actually explain the game," Hermione points out, raising her head all the way now that her blush has faded away. Draco laughs again and shakes his head, making his long hair fall in front of his face. He huffs and shoves it back. "Remind me to take you to get your hair cut, as well. I much prefer it shorter, like in sixth year," she says with a quiet hum of consideration.

Draco stills, brow shooting up. "So you admit to thinking I look nice?"

There's that blush again. "No!" She all but screams. When he just smirks, Hermione rushes to say, "all I meant was that your hair looked nice in sixth year. Now it's long and you look-"

"Like my father. That's what you're thinking, right?"

Hermione winces, realizing that the way she is speaking about his appearance could easily be interpreted that way.

"It's alright, you can say it," Draco says. "I thought the same." A beat of silence passes in which Hermione strains to find something to say that can fix the mood. "Never mind it, though. I'll remind you about the haircut."

Clearing her throat, Hermione reminds, "the game, then?"

"Right, of course," he replies, picking up where they had left off. "All that's needed is your brain. The point is to think of the most interesting fact and share with the other player. The one with the best will win the game."

She nods along, already thinking of a few facts she'd like to use. "Is there a prize? It'd be dull if there wasn't. Just two people spouting off information to each other," Hermione says, scrunching her nose up at the idea.

"Isn't that just a normal day for us?" Draco jokes.

Hermione shrugs. " All the more reason for us to need a prize."

Draco thinks on it for a moment, looking towards the ceiling. She sees the exact moment he decides and Hermione isn't too sure how much she likes the mischievous gleam in his eyes.

"What if the winner is allowed to choose what we do for an entire day? Does that sound fair?"

She's right, she doesn't like the idea. Unfortunately, she can't think of anything better. "That's fine. My only stipulation would be that we stay out of the magical world and anything we do has to be legal." Draco bobs his head in understanding. "Well then," Hermione announces with glee, "you can go first." She settles back into the sofa that they're sharing so that she's facing him.

Tapping out a rhythm on his knee, Draco considers for a few moments before giving his first fact. "Leonardo da Vinci was capable of writing with one hand while simultaneously drawing with the other." He states.

Hermione, while impressed, lifts a brow in suspicion. "How on earth did you know that? I never went that far into details about muggle artists."

Draco only laughs and playfully shoves her shoulder. "You can't know all my secrets Hermione." He replies. She sighs and allows the question to slip out of her mind. "It's your turn now."

The words have scarcely passed his lips before Hermione gives her fact. "Shakespeare's epitaph wards off would-be grave robbers with a curse." Draco isn't the least bit surprised that she said something about her favorite author, but that doesn't take away from the point that the fact is interesting. At least, more so than his had been.

After a small round of applause, he declares, "I believe that makes you the winner of this round, now onto the next." Hermione's perplexed, she can't recall them having set a limit on the number of rounds that they would be playing and yet he's counting them down.

"Would you mind telling me exactly how many rounds you decided on?" She questions, sarcasm dripping from her words.

"Three rounds, and we only have two left so choose wisely," He responds, then rolled his head around as he carefully considers his options. It's several minutes before he speaks again, so long that Hermione starts to reach for her book, only to remember that books aren't allowed during the game. She ends up fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Snape was the only death eater who could conjure a full corporal patronus."

Hermione gapes, hand releasing her shirt and flying towards her mouth. "I never knew that," She whispers, barely heard through her hand.

"Not many people did. I only knew because I once overheard a conversation between him and Dumbledore." Slightly consoled, she shakes her head to regather her wits then cleared her throat.

"I'm not sure how I can top that, at least not with my second best fact, but I might as well try." She bites her lip, thinking of her wording, then says, "the color of a basilisk's eyes are yellow, though very few can actually say this." For a reason unknown to her, Draco laughs, tossing his head back. Hermione waits patiently for him to finish with his fit. "Are you done yet?" She asks, growing impatient after nearly a minute has passed. "It really isn't that funny."

Slowly, he regained his composure and calmed down. "Not particularly, or at all really, but I find anything amusing when I'm as tired as I am now. Mostly it's just the idea that you know that because of first hand experience," He states.

Looking back on it now, years later, Hermione supposes it is a bit funny. She chuckles quietly.

"You were right though, that fact definitely didn't beat mine, which means round two goes to me! We're all tied up now so round three will be the deciding factor." He anxiously rubs his hands together, earning a small snicker from the girl opposite him.

"You better choose carefully then, Draco; I'm not holding back this time," She warns, crossing her arms.

"Neither will I." He only thinks for a moment this time, already having decided at the very start what he would use as his final one. "An ostriches eye is bigger than its brain."

Whether she is shocked or not, Draco can't tell. He thought for sure that using a muggle fact as his best would certainly raise some sort of reaction from her, but no, she only sits in silence with a small and victorious grin on her lips.

"Is that the best you've got?" She taunts, poking his chest with her slim finger.

"You think you can do better?" He sneers, not truly meaning it to be rude. It's become a habit of theirs to tease the other with all the mercilessness of the past. They never mean it anymore, though, and he's thankful for it. The less he hurts her, the better for both of them.

"I know I can. You're talking to me after all." She replies, every bit as cocky as he acts.

"Well show me then." He gestures for her to take her turn then reclines back, displaying nothing of the loss he knows is imminent.

She opens her mouth and declares, "I know of a spell that can control who the victim confesses their feelings to." Draco jerks, tearing his gaze away from bookshelves and turning it on her, searching for any hint that she knows something she isn't supposed to. Unaware of his watchful eye, she tosses her hair and reaches for her book. "I believe that beats yours by a lot, which makes me the winner of the final round-"

"Is there a cure? A way to reverse the curse?" He interrupts suddenly, eyes wide and cheeks a dark crimson. His hands are clutching the cushions with a viciousness that she hasn't seen from him in a while.

Thrown off by the sudden interest he has in her fact, she slowly replaces her book on the seat of the sofa and eyes him curiously. "Not that I know of, and I've read extensively on this particular spell back in school. Why do you ask?" Apparently not noticing, or perhaps choosing not to point out the way he sags deeper into the sofa, she waits for an answer.

Holding back a sigh, he gives her a response. "No reason, really, I'm only curious. I've never heard of such spell, so I hoped I could learn a bit about it. I always did like learning about new spells." His tone sounds defeated and tired then, like he's received terrible news.

It confuses her more than she cares to let on. "Well if that's all," Hermione says slowly, gaze flickering over him, searching just as he had. She, too, finds no inkling as to why he's acting the way he is. "I think I know the perfect place to go for my prize."

It's enough to draw him out of whatever place his mind has wandered.

"I've the faintest feeling that I'm going to regret suggesting this game," he grumbles. Hermione cackles