“I told him,” Draco sighed, sitting down at the table the next week. Christmas holidays were finally falling upon them and Hermione was hoping to bring Draco home with her to meet her parents.

“You did?” Hermione gasped, clutching his hand firmly in hers. “How’d he take it?”

“Not so well. He said I'm not allowed to come home. He said that he can’t deal with me right now.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped open. “What? Will everything be all right? Oh, Draco, I'm so sorry!”

“Don’t be,” he grinned weakly. “Now I can spend the holiday break with you. You sure your parents don’t mind?”

“Of course they don’t mind,” she assured him.

“Good. I'm excited.”

“Me, too.”

….

The train ride home was more than interesting; Hermione had previously been invited to Ron’s but the invitation was hastily snapped back. Instead, it was just Harry returning home with Ron and they made it very clear that they did not want to be anywhere near Hermione on the train ride home.

“You know, they haven’t really been this mad at me since our First Year, and that was because I was a pompous little know-it-all,” Hermione pointed out, leaning her head on Draco’s shoulder.

“And you’re not now?” he teased.

“Ha ha, how clever you are.”

“I know … it’s how I passed Transfiguration.”

“I don’t believe that was based on your brains. I think there was this extra credit in the form of a play that boosted you through this far.”

“See, you haven’t changed,” he laughed. “Though maybe you’re a tad bit more sarcastic now. But, honestly, if I hadn’t used my brains to decide to try out for the play in order to get extra credit, I wouldn’t be passing right now, would I? Oh, look, I am clever.”

She snorted. “And so I let you believe.”

….

“Mum, I missed you!” Hermione cried, flinging herself into a tight hug. “This is my boyfriend, Draco Malfoy.”

“Hi. Nice to meet you,” he smiled warmly, shaking Mr. and Mrs. Granger’s hands. “Nice day, isn’t it?”

Mrs. Granger beamed at him. “Yes, it’s lovely. You ready to go, dear? Are you sure that your parents don’t mind you staying with us?”

“Positive,” he affirmed sternly. “Where’s your car? It’s all right, Hermione, I’ve got your trunk…”

When they reached Hermione’s house she was feeling extremely positive; Draco had a charm with her parents and it seemed as if they adored him.

“So, we heard all about the play. Hermione actually had a teacher put it onto video so we could watch it. Would you be interested in seeing it after dinner?”

“Sure! What’s for dinner?”

They entered the house, and Draco grinned at the simplicity of it. It was a small two-story cottage with black trim and shutters. The inside was decorated nicely: soft dark blue sofas and pictures lining the walls.

“Turkey. I hope you’re hungry. Hermione, why don’t you show Draco to his room?”

Hermione nodded and led the way down a slightly narrow hall. She turned to the second door on the right and opened it to reveal a large guest bedroom.

“Where’s your bedroom?” he asked casually, sitting down on the bed.

She stood in front of him. “Across the hall.”

“Your parents trust you?”

“Yes. They seem to trust you, too. Let’s not break it.”

“Actually,” he smirked, pulling her down to his level. “I think we should break it and not tell them.”

Laughing in between kisses, they proceeded in snogging until dinner was called.

….

“Horses?”

“Yeah, we own some. I haven’t gotten to see them in a while. Want to go ride?” Hermione asked excitedly.

“Er … I'm not so excellent with them,” he admitted, pushing his blonde hair back. “They don’t tend to like me.”

“Don’t worry,” Hermione smoothed, opening the gate. “I’ve got a horse for every type.”

They approached a foul-smelling cage and Hermione opened another door. Finally, they found themselves face-to-face with five stags, all neighing loudly.

“Shh, baby,” Hermione cooed, stepping forward.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Not you,” she giggled. “The horses. They’re nervous.”

“So am I.”

“You’ll be fine. Here, try Janie,” she nodded calmly. “Just put your hand out – let her smell you first – then just hug her. I promise, she’s nicer than the Hippogriffs.”

“Ouch,” Draco hissed. “You almost hut my feelings there for a second. Wait … nope … it passed.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and watched, amused, as Draco gingerly stepped forward, holding his hand away from him as far as possible. Janie bent down and sniffed his hand as Draco stood tense, prepared to jump back at any second. When the horse didn’t pull back, Draco wrapped the horse in a hug, sighing slightly.

….

Before they went to bed, Hermione and Draco sat in the hallway.

“They gave me a very serious talking to,” Hermione whispered. “About how they expect me to be mature, responsible, etcetera. I don’t think my father likes you right across from me.”

“I thought they trusted you?”

“They do trust me – it’s you they’re worried about. Nothing personal … it’s just … they don’t know how you were raised or anything.”

“That’s probably a good thing,” he replied darkly.

As they stood up to say good night, a black owl swooped in from Draco’s open window. He turned, surprised, and it landed on his shoulder, holding out a letter.

“Orpheus,” Draco exclaimed. “What’re you doing here?”

Draco slipped the letter off of his talons and the bird left. Apparently, it was not expected to wait for an answer.

“Who’s it from?” Hermione questioned, curious.

“Oh, just my father. He’s probably wondering how my Holidays are going. Good night, Hermione. See you in the morning.” He kissed her on the cheek then slipped into his room, closing the door behind him.

After plopping himself, down on the bed, Draco couldn’t help but to groan after reading the message.

Draco,
Where are you? I talked to Severus and he says that you are not at the school. If you do not return within three days I will come for you. Don’t bother writing me back. I do not want to hear your excuses.
- Lucius