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Assistant: Title: The Binding
        Author: Curly_Kay Curly_Kay 
        Chapter: 24/35 
        Summary: “Okay, what we know so far.” Hermione listed, "One, our magic is drawing us together. Two, we can use each other’s wands. Three, there were actual sparks when you touched me."After an infant binding ritual magically joins Hermione and Draco to counteract the Black family blood curse, they must navigate the secret binding through their years together at Hogwarts.
        Contents: Chapter 24: The Singles Day Party
    

    


      
        
          Thank you so much for the well-wishes and wonderful messages for my family. The support of this fandom is overwhelming, and you all are bright spots in my day.The biggest thank you and lots of love to LKat719 for being a wonderful human being who has the best brainstorming sessions, sends the best gifs, and always saves me when a scene kicks my butt.The next chapter is titled The Blood Barrier and will be updated on 05/03
      
  

  
  
    
    
  February

  Year 6

   

  
    Severus Snape was a man of few words, and even fewer discernable emotions. Draco had known his godfather his entire life and never saw more than a glimpse behind his well-practiced façade.
  

  
    Until the moment Draco told him about Hermione.
  

  
    “It will be the end of both of you.” He heard his godfather’s jaw click and saw a glimmer in his eyes before they snapped shut. “Narcissa did not tell me about the ritual before I made the vow. When Dumbledore informed me that you needed Occlumency, I had not realised to what extent.”
  

  
    Snape paused in the silence for several moments before turning to meet Draco’s eye.
  

  
    “For you and Miss Granger, Occlumency is a matter of life and death. Not only death, but an excruciating death. She will be tortured, mangled, used, and there is no telling what will happen to you, Draco. You will be an example; they will hold your bloodied head up to the crowd as warning for what they can expect from consorting with Mudbloods.”
  

  
    Draco cringed at the word.
  

  
    Snape’s head cocked ever so slightly.
  

  
    “Mudblood,” Snape repeated, his signature tone took on a sharp edge. “Do you have a problem with the word, Draco?” 
  

  
    “I—Professor, I—”
  

  
    “If you cannot control your reaction to a simple word, we might as well stop before we begin. No need to waste my time.”
  

  
    Draco squared his shoulders. “I can control my reactions, Professor, I promise.”
  

  
    Carefully studying him, Snape said, “Your home is the central location for the Dark Lord. He will be there constantly. You will never have a moment of peace. You will have first-hand accounts of despicable acts against your fellow wizard; there will be blood and carnage far worse than a pitiful word.” Snape’s monotone flushed Draco with a chill, the intonation seeped into his bones.
  

  
    “I understand.”
  

  
    Snape’s eyes bore into him. “Do you? They will never trust that you are a true follower of the ways if you shy away from their language. Your objective is to avoid raising any red flags. As of right now, they believe that you share their views. You must provide no room for doubt.”
  

  
    “Surely they would never—”
  

  
    “Do you believe that I enjoy standing by while the Dark Lord tortures and slaughters? That I take pleasure in degrading someone by their blood status?”
  

  
    Draco felt himself hesitate before answering. “No, sir.”
  

  
    “In times of war, you put yourself aside. You do what you must to survive. To reveal your true feelings is to compromise yourself and Miss Granger. Do you want to see harm come to her?”
  

  
    “No, sir.”
  

  
    “Then say the word, Draco.”
  

  
    A beat of silence passed and a ringing filled Draco’s ears.
  

  
    “M-mudblood,” Draco rasped; it tasted vile on his tongue.
  

  
    “Again.”
  

  
    “Mudblood.”
  

  
    “What is Miss Granger?”
  

  
    Draco pushed down the bile in his throat. “A Mudblood.”
  

  
    “Very good, you might survive yet. Let’s begin.”
  

   

  “Draco!” Snape’s drawling voice reprimanded. “You must focus. A second of weakness is all that it takes for him to infiltrate your mind.”

  Draco shook his head, as if coming back into the moment. “Sorry, Professor.”

  “Again.” Snape raised his wand. “
  
    Legillimens
  
  .”

  It was his fifth session of Occlumency lessons with Snape. Each lesson built on the previous, and Snape was constantly bringing Draco to the edge of breaking, pushing just a bit more each time.

  Every weekend, Draco left the cold office with a throbbing headache and a pit in his stomach.

  The amount of effort that it took to resist Snape’s attacks weakened him physically as well as mentally. He could feel the consequences in himself, a slower pace when walking, difficulty focusing in classes, his gaunt skin glaring back at him in the mirror. Despite Hermione’s voiced concerns, Draco insisted on continuing the lessons.

  It was a matter of life and death.

  Snape was more ruthless than his mother had been, and he found that he preferred having a teacher who was a step removed emotionally. He needed the practice. The Dark Lord would not take pity on Draco the way his mother had. Dumbledore had arranged for the lessons shortly following the winter holiday and Draco had yet to miss a meeting.

  Draco drifted back into himself, focusing on his trunk which was filled to the brim with Hermione. He latched it securely shut, watching as the seam sealed the perimeter, creating a layer of protection against intruders.

  Snape began to press harder against his defenses as Draco threw meaningless memories at him. Lessons, homework notes, Quidditch practices — he pushed it all towards Snape with ease.

  It took a considerable amount of effort to refrain from flinching as Snape traversed through the passages of his mind, probing, searching for memories of Hermione, the bond, his true feelings.

  “Very good,” Snape muttered under his breath. “You’ve been practicing.”

  He felt pride swell in his chest. After months of studying and constant effort, he finally felt like he was making progress.

  “Yes, just as you told me, I’ve been—”

  As Snape dove back into his head without warning, a burst of air escaped Draco’s nostrils.

  Snape flew through his mind in a fury, pushing past each memory Draco threw at him. When the speed increased, Draco faltered for just a moment and—

  He felt the trunk shatter, and a burst of pain bloomed in his head.

  As a cry of agony slipped through his lips, his fingernails dug into the palms of his hands painfully.

  “Never let your guard down,” Snape chastised as he pushed back his robes in frustration. “It is the very moment you believe you have succeeded, that you have failed. You let your guard down and became sloppy. I expected more of you, Draco.”

  Draco hung his head in disappointment, his ears still ringing in pain. He could barely open his eyes; the light burned his corneas as blood rushed through his ears.

  Snape tutted softly. “Leave. You are in no state to continue tonight. I will see you again next Sunday. Come prepared. Remember, I am being kind. The Dark Lord does not give breaks.”

  Feeling unsteady, Draco let out a breath and wavered slightly as he took a step.

  His chest sunk like a stone through water. He was still too weak in his Occlumency.

  He failed her.

  Again.

  “I saw Luna carrying piles of red decorations with Neville.” Harry’s lip twitched up in amusement. “They said you three are throwing an event in the Ravenclaw commons?”

  Hermione’s nose scrunched up in response. “
  
    They’re
  
   hosting a Singles’ Day party and I was informed that I am attending,” she corrected. “I don’t even like parties. I tried to talk Ron into going with me, but he’s spending the day with Lav-Lav.”

  
    And I’m not single, 
  
  she added silently.

  “Well, if it’s any consolation, Luna was not holding any vegetables.” He snorted. “Or Wigginturn.”

  “I—What is Wigginturn?” She could not stop herself from asking.

  “It’s like a lemon but carved and stuffed with mint. I swear she said it was because of the fae or maybe Saturn—you’ll have to ask Luna. You know that everything she does is ridiculous. To be honest, I don’t think she was fully speaking English.”

  “Hmm. What about you? Are you and Theo doing anything tonight to celebrate the day of love?” Hermione asked, her footsteps echoing through the empty corridor as they walked.

  “No…” Harry’s eyes creased at the edges. “I don’t know what’s going on, but he’s been lying to me." His face twisted uncomfortably. “You know that drop in your stomach when someone tells you something that doesn’t sit right? Well, I'm feeling like that, a lot recently.”

  Hermione felt her chest deflate at his words; she knew of several secrets that Theo was holding for her and Draco. 

  Guilt throbbed in her chest with each heartbeat.

  “Have you tried asking him?” She feigned nonchalance.

  He let out a dry chuckle. “Yes,” he replied sardonically, “because everyone knows that liars always tell the truth when you ask nicely.” He wrung his hands together nervously as they continued out the door, entering the grounds.

  “Liars,” she echoed softly.

  The past year of lies and omissions tumbled through her head as her nausea grew.

  
    I love Draco Malfoy.
  

  
    Our magic is bound together.
  

  
    Dumbledore is dying.
  

  
    He will be murdered.
  

  
    Snape is good.
  

  
    Death Eaters are coming.
  

  
    I’m helping them.
  

  Tears built up in the corners of her eyes, drying up in the wind before they fell.

  “So, no, we aren’t celebrating Valentine’s Day together this year on account of his most recent lie to me.”

  Hermione swallowed the lump that resided in her throat. “What lie?”

  Harry flexed his jaw in annoyance. “According to Theo, he’s in detention this morning and tonight. That, however, is utter bullshit because Ron has the Prefect copy of the detention list. I saw it on his desk. No Theodore Nott anywhere on it.”

  The wind whipped her hair around wildly, so she piled her curls on top of her head and secured it with a tie.

  “I don’t know what to say, Harry.” She shrugged feebly, a weight compounded on her chest, “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s obvious how much he loves you. I don't think he'd purposely hurt you.”

  His lips pursed at her words, pain flashed past his eyes, “I appreciate the sentiment, Hermione, I do, but I can’t talk about this right now. In fact, I have to cut our walk short. I’m not good company at the moment.”

  She watched helplessly, trying to think of a fix for this situation as he turned back towards the castle. 

  Hermione was alone with her guilt once more.

  Harry’s eyes fixed on the stone flooring as he made his way back into the castle. His feet felt heavy as he dragged them with each step.

  The summer apart had been emotionally exhausting for Harry. He had been so happy to come back to Theo at the start of the term, but no matter what Harry did, Theo felt distant. Coupled with Theo’s deflection of anything related to Harry’s suspicions about Draco Malfoy's Borgin and Burkes visit, the pair had felt more at odds than anything.

  He felt like he was the only one fighting for them, the only one invested, the only one with a heart that was breaking.

  A familiar cough caught his attention and Harry looked up from his thoughts to see Theo walking with purpose down the nearby corridor, completely oblivious to him.

  Glancing at the time, Harry realised that Theo should be in ‘detention’ right now. His pulse thrummed under his skin; he had an opportunity to find out where Theo was going.

  Harry froze, his mind racing as inner turmoil filled him.

  Should he follow Theo? Was that a complete breach of trust?

  His entire body tensed as he slipped behind the tapestry several steps away. He peered through the gap between the tapestry and the stone, watching as Theo passed him and descended another corridor.

  Gathering a deep breath, Harry lost his internal battle for control and found himself trailing Theo through the dimly lit halls.

  He traced Theo’s steps, ending in front of the Hospital Wing.

  They had just talked the night before and Theo had not complained of any ailment. Harry waited for several minutes, but Theo did not come back out.

  Was he visiting someone?

  Harry felt jealousy bubble up at the thought. Theo had been busy lately, disappearing at odd hours, providing half-arsed excuses.

  
    There was someone else. 
  
  The thought clawed at Harry’s brain; his mouth tasted sour.

  Without thinking through a plan, Harry stomped into the open Hospital Wing; Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen. He passed the rows of empty beds and spotted a bed at the end with the curtains pulled.

  “Good, that’s good.” Theo’s low voice came from behind the curtains.

  “Like this?” a male voice replied softly.

  Harry saw red, heard the blood rushing in his ears as his hand ripped the curtain to the side. The squeaking of the metal hooks made him flinch.

  The wind was knocked out of him as he took in the scene before him.

  Theo was sitting in a chair next to the hospital bed, visiting a fifth year Ravenclaw with sandy blond hair and bright blue eyes. Harry recognised him from Hermione’s Prefect meetings; he was tall and lean. Theo was grasping his arm, unwrapping a wound as the student flexed his hand carefully.

  The pair looked up at Harry in surprise and Theo’s eyes flashed dangerously, but his anger dissipated as he addressed the Ravenclaw, “I’m sorry, I’ll be right back. Just give me a minute.”

  Theo abruptly pulled the curtain shut.

  Thoughts swirling, Harry barely processed anything as Theo dragged him by the arm to an alcove on the opposite end of the infirmary.

  “Why are you following me?” Theo fumed, his rough voice catching Harry off guard.

  “I wasn’t—” He stumbled over his words. “You’ve been so off lately, I just—”

  “So, you decided to 
  
    follow
  
   me?” Theo scoffed in sarcastic wonder. “Wanted to track me to find out what I was up to?”

  “I had to know,” Harry mumbled, nervously fisting his hair as his hands struggled to hold still.

  “Know what?” Theo’s eyes tightened.

  “Who.” Harry’s voice cracked. “Who is he, Theo?”

  Theo rolled his eyes “I can't believe this.” Shaking his head slowly, his voice rose with every word. “You honestly think I’m 
  
    cheating
  
  .”

  Harry’s silence was deafening.

  “You know what? Fuck you and fuck your accusations!" The words rushed from Theo’s lips, his breath catching. "That is the last thing I need to deal with right now.”

  Harry instinctively reached for him, his hand missing the target as Theo took a step back. Harry's throat tightened. “Wait—Please, just talk to me—”

  Theo halted mid-step, turning with the motion of Harry’s hand.

  “You’re not seeing him?” Harry hated how pitiful his voice sounded. “The Ravenclaw?”

  A puff of air rushed out of Theo’s lungs, his voice was gravely and low. “No. There’s never been anyone else.”

  “So, you’re just avoiding me?”

  “No!” Theo pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

  “Then why have you been so distant?”

  His eyes squeezed shut. “Now's not the time.”

  “Answer me. Why have you been pulling away from me all year?”

  Theo's breath quickened. “I’m keeping secrets from you, Harry. That’s why. I know that you’ve had your suspicions and you’re right; you know me better than anyone else in this fucked up world.”

  Shoulders slumping under the weight of his words, Theo turned away from Harry. “I can’t tell you and it’s 
  
    killing me
  
   to keep it from you. It could ruin everything between us.”

  At the confirmation of his fears, Harry felt short of breath. “How?”

  “I’m being torn in half, trying to stay afloat, but I'm always seconds from drowning." The words swirled together as Theo continued, "And I have to try to hold it together; try to save you from another heartbreak. But I can't figure out a way to stop what’s coming.”

  “You’re speaking in riddles.” Harry felt disoriented trying to follow his meaning. “What secret? What’s coming?”

  In response, Theo lovingly fixed a piece of hair that was sticking up, his trembling fingers threaded through Harry’s locks. “You know, I was born to be a perfect pureblood piece of shite Death Eater. That has always been my destiny. Now, I’m not sure I believe in destiny anymore, but if I do, I know mine is with you.”

  Harry’s voice choked. “Theo—"

  “I can’t tell you anything, Harry. I need you to trust me. I know you have been burned before, but gods, I just need you to 
  
    trust me.
  
   I would do anything for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I fucking love you.” Theo’s shoulders shuddered as he pushed out the words. “I love you and I couldn’t put myself first anymore even if I tried.”

  Harry’s heart stopped; he forgot how to breathe.

  "And I’m so 
  
    sorry
  
  .” Theo’s voice broke, his eyes glimmered in the light. “Because instead of it being something beautiful, it’s distorted. Having someone like me love you is a death sentence. We were born on opposite sides of a war that we were raised to fight. We were never meant to be.”

  Drawn to him, Harry’s feet moved of their own accord. He slipped his arms around Theo, gently taking hold of his robes. They stood for a moment, clinging to each other, the sound of their breathing filling the alcove.

  “Lucky for you, I’m pretty good with avoiding death sentences,” Harry quipped. “Some might say it’s one of my top talents up there with plate spinning.”

  “Harry…” The sound of vulnerability in Theo’s voice broke his heart.

  Eyes fluttering shut, Theo burrowed himself further into Harry.

  The words looped in his mind.

  “Did you mean it? You love me?” Harry quickly blinked away the tears that formed at the words.

  When Theo nodded against him in confirmation against him, Harry’s breath shuddered as he echoed in disbelief, “You love me.”

  He felt Theo’s chest spasm against his as they became a tangle of limbs. After several moments, Theo leaned back gently, looking Harry in the eyes. The two watched each other for a beat, their eyes filled with tears. Theo’s hand moved, one finger gently pushing Harry’s slipping glasses back into place.

  The space between them closed as his forehead came to rest against Harry’s. 

  "You never gave me a choice. Loving you is as easy as breathing. You are as much a part of me as my magic."

  Harry wished to bottle the moment and bathe in his words..

  “It doesn't make sense now—why were you here? With him?” The whispered question slipped through his lips before he could stop it.

  “I had to be,” Theo replied softly.

  “Are you mates?”

  “No.”

  “Then why—”

  “I’m training.”

  Harry blinked at him, his mouth unable to form words.

  Theo looked between Harry’s eyes, searching for something, “I’ve been training all year under Madam Pomfrey to be a Healer.”

  His thumb gently traced Harry’s jawline. “I knew you wouldn’t approve but I can’t just sit off to the side and do nothing, Harry. Not when you have a proclivity for near-death experiences." The smile did not reach Theo’s eyes. "For years, I’ve watched you narrowly escape death, and nearly fall apart in the process. Every time, I watch someone else put you back together and a part of me dies. I can’t be helpless anymore. I need to be ready.”

  Harry realised that if he only had a single breath left, he would use it for this moment.

  Trying to find the words, he steadied himself. “Theo.” His voice thickened in his throat. “I love you, too. I loved you before I knew how to put words to the feelings.”

  A single tear fell over the edge of Theo’s lids as he smiled with trembling lips.

  Harry blinked and Theo was kissing him, all-consuming and unrelenting. Their tongues tangled, dancing in a slow, heavy pace. 

  Before he could stop it, the smallest whimper escaped Harry.

  Theo moved at the sound, his chest pressing firmly against Harry’s as he pushed forward with purpose. Harry stumbled backwards with each step, his mouth moving frantically against Theo’s. 

  Harry’s back hit the cool stone wall, the rough edges digging into his shoulders. 

  His hands roamed up Theo’s chest as the pair used the wall for support, gasping for breath between heated kisses that moved from mouth to jaw.

  “Say it again,” Theo’s voice grated desperately against his neck.

  “I love you.” Harry’s words were swallowed up as Theo’s lips claimed his once more.

  Theo’s lopsided grin pressed against him. “I love you, Harry Potter.”

  A shiver cascaded down Harry’s spine in response to the breath whispering across his skin.

  “I love you.”

  Harry would never tire of hearing those words.

  “You’re going to have to explain to me again how you ended up studying in the Hospital Wing because I’m still confused.” Draco looked to Theo in bewilderment. “I thought I was hallucinating when I saw you with Madam Pomfrey.”

  “I know it isn’t glamorous,” Theo sighed. “But it’s useful, okay? I need to know how to heal. After helping you earlier this year—”

  Draco flinched.

  “—and knowing what is to come with the Dark Lord, I need to be able to heal people when they’re hurt.” He lowered his voice. “Harry nearly dies every fucking year. If I can do anything to stop that from happening, then I will.”

  “Well, for what it’s worth, you’ll make a great Healer,” Draco stated reassuringly. “Harry’s lucky to have you.”

  Theo looked away, nodding once. “He’s not thrilled about my double shift today. He wanted to spend the night together. Speaking of, at the end of my morning shift, I saw your Hufflepuff in the Hospital Wing.” 

  Draco sucked in a sharp breath, giving Theo his full attention. “Wait, you saw Amelia? Is she hurt?”

  “No, nothing like that. She just needed some scratch cream; her arms were 
  
    completely
  
   covered in them.”

  “Scratches?”

  “Yeah, mate. Looked like she got in a fight with a spiky bush and lost. She was really evasive when we asked what happened. I just thought you would want to know in case those damn bullies were back.”

  Draco scowled. “They shouldn’t be. You don’t want to know how graphic I was with my threats, but I can’t imagine they’d want to gamble it. Plus, she’s bloody dating one of them now.”

  Theo made a face. “She’s what?”

  He raised a hand. “Don’t get me started, I’m not happy about it.”

  “That brings me to my next question. Why is Blaise saying you’re spending Valentine’s Day together tonight?”

  “Because Granger couldn’t get out of a thing with Neville and Luna, and you’re with Harry, so I’m stuck with Blaise,” he bemoaned, leaning his head back. “I have to meet him in an hour, and I don’t want to know what he has planned.”

  Theo let out an amused chuckle. “Has he still not talked to her or is Blaise still trying to deny the whole Luna—"

  A loud hiss caught their attention.

  “Oh gods, Draco,” Theo spit out between laughs. “I think I know where the Hufflepuff got her scratches.”

  An extremely outraged Crookshanks stalked by their table. He was wearing a tiny toga outfit around his body that was tied at his neck, his fluff protruding around the fabric. The miniature toga was adorned in red hearts with a little bow and arrow hooked onto the back. It wiggled back and forth as he walked.

  Crookshanks growled low, sitting just in front of Draco with a menacing glare.

  “Looks like you’ve got a note,” Theo supplied helpfully, gesturing to the tip of the Cupid’s arrow on Crookshanks’ back.

  Slowly, Draco reached out to Crookshanks, hoping he wouldn’t receive a set of matching scratches. He unraveled the note carefully.

  “So?” Theo prompted.

  Draco’s jaw slackened. “Mate, this is not for your eyes. Actually, on that note, I have to go.”

  Theo’s eyes opened wide. “Shite, did she send you a picture?”

  Tucking the paper into his pocket, he smirked deviously. “Like I said, I have to go. I’m suddenly extremely busy before I see Blaise.”

  “Lucky bastard.”

  As it was a stop during the Prefect rounds, Hermione was already familiar with the Ravenclaw Common Room, though she had never been there for a social call. She trudged up to the top of the spiral staircase that led to the main common area. In front of her, there was a door with no knob or keyhole. She lifted the bronze knocker, carved into the shape of an eagle, and knocked once on the door.

  The eagle shook awake. “What cannot talk but will reply when spoken to?”

  Hermione took a moment to think. “An echo,” she declared confidently.

  “Very good,” the eagle praised as the door opened.

  Inside the Common Room, she was met with dimmed lights and loud music which assaulted her senses. The atmosphere was the antithesis of her previous experiences with the space. On earlier visits, the Common Room was nearly silent or had soft music playing. It was generally filled with students in passionate discussions or focusing on schoolwork.

  Tonight, the wide, circular room looked as though a decoration shop exploded inside. It was covered from floor to ceiling in hearts and Valentine’s Day décor. The blue and bronze silks clashed with the red. Sofas and chairs were pushed aside to make an open dancing space. The marble statue of Ravenclaw watched disapprovingly.

  From the description that Luna provided earlier that week, Hermione had expected to be one of a few grumbling peers attending out of polite obligation. What Hermione found, however, was completely the opposite. The room was filled with students, all lively and animated, dancing to a catchy tune—was that the Weird Sisters?

  At the edge of the room, a miniature fountain that spewed a bright red drink. Hermione snagged an empty cup and filled it with the liquid.

  She navigated through the crowded Common Room with her glass of punch. Taking a quick drink, she grimaced at the taste; it had not taken long for someone to spike the communal beverage. Nursing the drink, her eyes skimmed through the crowd, looking for familiar faces.

  There were an abnormal number of Slytherins in the room, she noted curiously. How did Luna manage to convince so many Slytherin students to attend?

  A tug at her navel caught her by surprise; she instantly looked to the entrance of the room, noticing a head of platinum blond hair joining the crowd. She put on a mask of indifference as she watched Draco and Blaise make their way over to the same fountain that she had come from. She caught Draco’s eye; he gave a nearly imperceptible shrug.

  What were they doing here?

  Raising her glass to her lips, she turned to watch the group of dancers, pretending to ignore Draco as he wandered over to the same corner of the room as her. She felt hyperfocused on his presence.

  Draco stopped several steps away from her, facing away from her like he had not noticed her either; he pursed his lips in annoyance.

  “I didn’t know you’d be here,” she muttered into her glass, taking a sip. “Change of plans?”

  “Blaise dragged me here; in fact, he invited probably ninety-nine percent of the people here.”

  “Why would Blaise want to come to a Singles’ Day party in the Ravenclaw commons?” She recoiled in puzzlement. Slytherins rarely attended parties of the other houses.

  He sighed under his breath. “Because Blaise is in love with Luna.”

  Hermione inhaled part of her drink, coughing uncontrollably. “He’s what?!”

  Several students nearby glanced over at her and she gave a contrite half-smile.

  Draco turned his head towards the wall. “Remember the first Potions lesson of the year? With the Amortentia?”

  “Of course,” she mumbled, trying not to move her lips.

  “He had zero idea what his smells came from. He spent weeks trying to figure out what he’s attracted to from the potion fumes. Said whatever it was, it was real love.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to cover his mouth with his arm as he pulled it through. “You should’ve seen the look on his face when she walked by later that month carrying a singing cat with shoes on it. He about fell over in shock.”

  “Oh my god.” Her eyes drifted over to Blaise. “I had no idea.”

  “Bloke’s 
  
    completely
  
   infatuated, hasn’t even looked at another witch all year. Not that he’s even talked to Luna once.”

  “This is <PRESIDIO_ANONYMIZED_PERSON> we are talking about? Not chasing every available witch?” A small scoff of skepticism left her mouth. “I can’t believe it.”

  “The very one. He heard Neville talking about the party during class and invited all of Slytherin House, hoping he could catch a moment alone with Luna without sticking out. He had a mysterious package delivered this morning during breakfast.”

  Hermione turned her full attention to the man in question.

  Blaise had one hand in his pocket; he was leaning against the fireplace mantle as he tried unsuccessfully to pretend he was not watching Luna Lovegood dance. Luna, utterly oblivious to her admirer, was spinning around the makeshift dance floor with her arms waving through the air in no particular pattern.

  The corners of Blaise’s lips curled up, his eyes following her freeform steps as her head tilted to the ceiling and lingering just a moment too long.

  “Oh my god!” Hermione repeated, forgetting herself and looking to Draco in complete shock. “You’re actually serious?!”

  “Hey now!” Dean Thomas announced, sidling up to Hermione. “No fighting tonight. I’ve heard wicked rumours about the two of you having rows every time you’re on Prefect duty together, and this is not the time nor the place for that. Tonight is a night for love.”

  Draco sneered at Dean’s sudden appearance. “We weren’t—"

  “Hello, Dean.” Hermione donned a pleasant smile, breaking off Draco’s thought before he could continue. “Are you enjoying the party?”

  “I sure am, but it would appear I am short a dance partner. Any chance I could get a repeat of our last night together?” Dean grinned, turning on the charm. Without waiting for an answer, he lifted Hermione’s drink from her hand and set it on the ledge behind him.

  Draco’s face warped in a mixture of emotions as he watched Hermione glance down at her empty hand and stumble over her words.

  “Oh—of course, Dean. It would be fun to dance with you again.” She watched as Draco’s eyes tightened on the word ‘again’.

  “I’ll bring her back to you to continue your argument later.” Dean winked at Draco, who deliberately glared at him in response.

  Hermione felt his heated gaze on her as Dean led her to a gap in the crowd of dancers.

  She internally groaned; this interaction was far more innocent than it sounded.

  “Do you two ever get along?” Dean asked, his eyes narrowing with a shake of his head.

  “You’d be surprised,” she mumbled sarcastically under her breath.

  “Well, I don’t have the shoes or the talent that comes from them, but I think we can still have a great time dancing.” 

  “You don’t need enchanted shoes; given the crowd, I highly doubt salsa will be the style of the night.” Her eye caught on Luna. A wicked idea passed through her mind. “Dean, I’ll be right back. Don’t start without me!”

  She slipped through the students and over to Luna. Pulling the witch out of her trance, Hermione hooked their arms together and leaned in. “I’ve noticed a certain tall, dark, and handsome Slytherin without a dance partner.” She lowered her voice, barely audible above the music. “You should invite him to dance. I have a feeling that you might like him.”

  Luna tipped her head to the side, humming thoughtfully. Her startling blue eyes landed on Blaise, who was making his way back over to Draco.

  “I’ve promised a dance to Dean, so I have to go, but in case it has skipped your notice, Blaise hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off you all night.” Hermione nudged Luna with a cheeky wink.

  “His Sunveri is exceptionally bright,” she mused, a glint of interest flashed by. “That’s a very good sign during a waning gibbous.”

  Hermione stared for a beat. “Of course it is, Luna. I’m going back to Dean now, but just…consider it, okay?”

  “I think I will ask him to dance,” Luna decided aloud, a smile stretched across her lips.

  “Oh—and Luna?”

  “Yes?”

  “What’s a Wigginturn?”

  “It’s a mint lemonade my dad makes in the summer.”

  Hermione’s jaw slacked. “Does it…do anything?”

  “It’s a beverage…it hydrates you? Surely you’re familiar with the concept.” Luna’s voice lifted in airy amusement. “Why do you ask?”

  Hermione held in a laugh at Harry’s expense. “Just curious.”

  The rest of Hermione’s night was spent with Dean and the other Gryffindors at the party. Seamus had too many cups of the spiked drink and vomited in a potted plant before being promptly carried back to the Gryffindor Tower by Geoffrey Hooper and Terrence Fogarty.

  She had hardly seen Neville the entire night; his time was taken up by Kate Olney, who seemed genuinely interested in his Herbology ramblings. Several pairs of students were spread around the room snogging. Hermione assumed that was partially due to the free-flowing alcohol.

  Overall, it had not been a terrible Valentine’s Day, though Hermione would have much preferred to spend it with Draco in their place.

  Just as the party was dying down, she slipped out of the Ravenclaw Common Room.

  Hermione paused at the top of the spiral staircase, catching the quickest flash of Luna’s bright red skirt from around the corner.

  “It’s enchanted to repel Tacagans.” Blaise’s low voice murmured. “I read in 
  
    The Quibbler
  
   that they are envious creatures that terrorize beautiful witches.”

  Hermione’s eyes widened as she grinned. Blaise was finally talking to Luna. She resisted the growing urge to do a short happy jig. If what Draco said was true, then Blaise had been building up the courage for this conversation since September. It was endearing that he was confident with every witch but Luna Lovegood, who apparently intimidated and entranced him.

  Unwilling to draw attention to herself and ruin their moment, she wandlessly silenced her footsteps, grateful that she had been practising wandless magic this year.

  She heard a gasp of happiness come from Luna. “I’ve been meaning to procure one of these to go along with my Aginlara tracker, though this is much nicer than the one I had in mind,” she replied matter-of-factly.

  “It has a gemstone inlay of the lunar phases,” Blaise added, his voice like honey. “It was made for you.”

  Carefully, Hermione stepped down the opposite hallway without disrupting the pair, slipping around the corner just in time to see Blaise place a platinum hair clip into Luna’s hair. His hand brushed away the stray strands that framed her face.

  Hermione barely caught the tail end of the conversation as she retreated in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

  “I like your aura, Blaise Zabini.” A whimsical voice twirled through the corridor.

  “Well, Luna Lovegood, it just so happens that I like you.”'
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