Author's note: Guess who? I am thrilled to offer you the first instalment of A Lifetime of Firsts, a sequel of sorts to Letters of the Past. As you might deduce from the title, we'll be following our lovely couple through many of their 'firsts' in their relationship. I hope I've done these two (and all of you) justice with this. But overall? I'm super happy to have these two back in my life an head, whispering what should come next. Hopefully, you guys will be just as excited. Happy NaNoWriMo! Let's DO this.

As always, I do not own Harry Potter. I'm a mother of three princesses, living in Ohio. I clip coupons for goodness sakes. J. K. Rowling owns it all, except the plot. I did that.

Draco and Hermione both expected the unkind stares and whispers that followed them throughout their first full day of classes. However, Ginny Weasley's reaction at breakfast - the look of utter betrayal and hurt the feisty redhead pinned Hermione with - and the hissed calls of "Blood Traitor" from returning Slytherins - left the couple clinging to one another for strength and comfort the whole day long.

Draco held his witch as she soaked the front of his robes with her tears after the confrontation with Weaslette at breakfast; he'd witnessed the way her face had crumpled, the slight quiver in her chin, and almost without thinking grabbed a couple breakfast pastries for them both before pulling her out of the Great Hall and into the trophy room. Hermione had launched herself into his arms and Draco held her close, whispering words of comfort and love into her ear as she cried.

"Ginny hates me," his witch's words were mournful and muffled by the heavy fabric of his robes, but Draco heard her loud and clear. His arms tightened around her small frame instinctively and he rested his chin atop her head, taking in lungful after lungful of her intoxicating scent.

"She'll come around," he tried consoling. Truth was, Draco wasn't sure if he was telling her the truth or not. Weaslette did, in fact, look furious when they walked into the Great Hall hand in hand. All sound had quieted and all eyes had been squarely on Draco and Hermione. The couple had kept their distance at the Welcome Feast the evening prior, but refused to hide their love and overwhelming joy for any length of time. Ginny had slowly risen from her seat at the Gryffindor table and stared Hermione down, long enough for the rest of the students to begin whispering among themselves.

Their voices resembled the angry buzzing of bees and that's when the first utterance of Blood Traitor had been hissed at him, from none other than his own house. Draco couldn't be sure Hermione had heard it, as lost as she was in the stare down with one of her best friends. He'd spared the Slytherin table one lethal glare - and the ruckus seemed to quiet down afterwards, if only briefly.

Her tears slowed while Draco gently combed his fingers through her thick mane of curls. Raining soft kisses on the crown of her head, the Slytherin silently fumed over her distress. He'd expected it. Hell, they both had, but it was different - facing the wrath of mere acquaintances was much easier than facing hellfire from someone you love. Sadly, Draco knew a Weasley could hold a grudge for all eternity if they felt so inclined.

"I'm sorry, Granger," Draco whispered, leaning back and seeking out her ochre eyes. Gently brushing the last remnants of her tears away with the pad of his thumb, he couldn't help but smirk at her watery chuckle.

"It's been a while since you've called me Granger," Hermione sniffled, and finally a small smile curled her plump lips.

"You'll always be Granger to me," he insisted, offering his witch first choice of pastries. "As much as I love your given name, your surname holds a special place in my heart."

"Oh, that's just unfair," Hermione chided playfully, accepting the blueberry offering and leaving the apple knowing it was his favourite. "You're not allowed to be that sweet, I refuse to walk around looking like a lovestruck fool constantly."

His snort of disbelieving laughter echoed throughout the chamber, and his smirk widened with

mirth, "Let me get this straight - I'm not allowed to be honest with you, because you find me too charming when I do - and then you smile the way you currently are and are afraid people will think love has made you go soft in the head?"

Draco chuckled around the grunt of pain from Hermione's bony elbow and both had trouble hiding their smiles as they left the room, their earlier troubles not forgotten but easier to weather.

The rest of the day followed a similar pattern. Draco's housemate's reactions varied from intrigued and confused to betrayed and angry. He paid it little attention, Theo and Blaise were really the only two whose opinion held any weight to Draco, and both only wanted their friend to be happy. Draco's easy acceptance of their own love affair meant much more than any stupid prejudices: house, blood, or otherwise.

Neville Longbottom, the earliest champion of their relationship, continued to defend Hermione and Draco's romance at every turn. In fact, he shut down Ginny's spiteful words in Potions. As they always had, Gryffindors and Slytherins had the class together in the dungeons. When they entered together, Hermione's eyes immediately sought out her old seat, where Ginny was sitting with an icy glare for her friend. Neville had grinned widely at the pair but it quickly dimmed when he noticed the tension in the room.

"Alright there, Hermione?" He asked, nudging Ginny with his shoulder. When the redhead turned her angry eyes to Neville, she met his own hard stare. The message was clear - settle down. Neville had been a leader in the absence of Harry, Ron and Hermione during their ill-fated seventh year and that authority hadn't just disappeared. Ginny lowered her eyes to the table in front of her and picked at her cuticles, silently relenting.

"Yes. Thank you, Neville," Hermione returned quietly, though her white-knuckled grip on the heavy book in her hands begged to differ.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Draco placed his hand at the small of Hermione's back and led her to the table he'd claimed eight years before. He felt a certain thrill sitting next to her and it wasn't solely in regards to being next to his girlfriend, that loved him. Though it did make him smile as he took a seat, the real thrill was having Hermione Granger, Brightest Witch of Her Age, as his partner. The idea of working with her, creating things with her, excelling with her - he couldn't name the emotion swelling in his chest, but it was warm and invigorating and he'd cherish it for as long as she'd allow it.

Draco watched as Hermione carefully set out her parchment, quill and ink, and a small, private smile along with a sidelong glance was exchanged between the pair - as the wizard did the same. It was easy to ignore everyone outside of Hermione and Slughorn for Draco. His concern was for the witch on his right, and everyone else could sod off in his book. Several minutes into Slughorn's first self-congratulatory speech of the year, he felt her hand brush his thigh and quickly dropped his own.

Entwining their fingers and palm to palm, Draco let loose a gusty sigh of contentment. This was bliss. A gentle squeeze to his hand told him Hermione agreed.

Dinner had been a much quieter affair. The Weaslette kept her head down, staring at her food in stony silence while at the other end of the table, Draco and Hermione were joined by Neville and Luna. The conversation had been odd and hard to follow at best but to see the bright, wholesome smiles his witch shared with her friends soothed his soul. Then a couple of hours of studying together in the library, hidden away deep within the stacks.

Draco wasn't sure exactly what he had been reading the last half hour they spent surrounded by whispering pages, but he felt certain he could sketch her face, brightened by candle and moonlight pouring through the cathedral-style windows from memory alone. He was a total fool for Hermione Granger and he wouldn't have it any other way, especially when she looked up from her notes and sent a secret smile his way. Draco felt it wash over him, along with the sweet tingle of her magic, from head to toe while his pulse raced and his own lips mirrored hers.

"Ready to go?" She murmured sweetly, reaching across the table to place her hand over his.

"Mine or yours?" He responded softly, flipping his hand over and entwining their hands.

"Doesn't matter to me, so long as you're there." Again, a swooping sensation hit his stomach and left him breathless. But having a reputation to uphold, Draco wrinkled his nose playfully and shook his head.

"Much more of that and I might begin to think you were sorted incorrectly, love. How very Hufflepuff of you, Granger," he drawled with a chuckle that turned into a full on laugh, one that left Hermione struck dumb by the beauty of the sound, when she sent all their scrap paper flying at his cocky, smirking face with a flick of her wand.

"Oh, hush," Hermione sighed, collecting her things and stowing them away in her bag. After a few seconds of silence, she glanced over at her beau only to find him watching her with a look she'd become overly familiar with over the summer months. "What is it?"

"Just wondering if you're happy. You seem to be, but I know Weaselette's reaction hurt you and I've barely survived today without hexing several people within an inch of their life," Draco mumbled, something he made a point to never do. But nerves got the best of him, fearing her response as much as he needed to hear it.

Abandoning her task to give her pale, handsome wizard her full attention, Hermione walked around the table and wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her chin against his right shoulder. "I won't lie to you and say today has been perfect and wonderful because it hasn't. Some of our classmates nearly met the end of my wand on more than one occasion, but they don't matter Draco. Not in the long run. What matters is that you were by my side all day, taking just as much vitriol as I, yet you remained strong and steadfast - which was exactly what I needed. I may not be happy with everyone else, but I am with you."

After feeling his tense shoulders relax as he released a long, deep breath, Hermione placed a sweet kiss to his cheek. "I love you, Draco. It's going to take a lot more than a few ugly looks and even uglier words to drive me away from you. Come now, let's go get a warm cup of tea and prepare for bed. I'm exhausted."

Turning his head to meet her endless chocolate eyes, Draco allowed a soft smile to grace his face before tipping forward and kissing his witch softly on the lips. "I wish I could explain what you mean to me, Granger," a flick of his wand had their things quickly collected and carefully stowed in their bags which he then slid over his shoulder. A chuckle at the perturbed expression on his witch's face later had him standing and taking her lithe form in his arms, "I love you, too."

Her answering smile was bright enough to light up the darkest of nights.

Harry stood half-dressed in the kitchen at 12 Grimmauld Place, anxiously running a hand through his hair, making the wild and unkempt mane look even crazier. The letter from Ginny, which arrived by owl post just as the sun began its morning climb, had been left next to a half-empty cup of tea.

"Fuck!" Harry growled, tugging on his trousers while frantically looking for his best friend and roommate. Hadn't he asked, very kindly, for Ron to wait before he did anything stupid? He'd only been left alone for roughly five minutes. "Ron?!" His voice echoed down the halls as Harry shrugged on his Auror robes. "Damn it all, Ron," he grunted when he received no answer, and he rushed towards the open floo while shoving his boots on his feet.

One handful of green powder later, and the wild-eyed wizard was tumbling into McGonagall's office.

"Honestly, Headmistress, I only want to check in with her and make sure she's okay. Ginny's letter had me worried sick and we haven't heard from Hermione in an age." Harry heard Ron pleading before setting himself to rights. McGonagall seemed to be sizing his red-headed friend up and measuring the truth to his words. Ronald Weasley's hatred of Draco Malfoy was widely and well-known, and even Harry had his doubts about his friend's intentions.

"And you, Mr Potter? Have you come to 'check-in' on Miss Granger, as well?" At her question, Ron looked over his shoulder and Harry nearly grimaced at the fire burning in his blue eyes.

"Mostly," he grunted, taking his glasses off and cleaning them with his robes. "I asked Ron to wait for me -" but he was cut off.

"You were taking forever, Harry. And you didn't even want to come!" Ron bellowed, before dropping his head and murmuring a quick apology when McGonagall forcefully cleared her throat and shot him her most disapproving look.

"If I allow this you both have to promise to keep your tempers in check, no fighting in my halls and you must respect Miss Granger's choices. I will not have you two coming in here and making a mess of things, or causing mayhem. Am I understood?" The Headmistress looked torn, and it was obvious she wanted to have faith in her previous charges, but both boy's quick tempers had her on edge.

"You have my word, Headmistress," Harry assured the older witch. "I'll keep him in line, too," Ron grumbled something Harry couldn't quite make out under his breath and McGonagall once again pinned him with an authoritative stare.

"Mr Weasley, I implore you to listen to reason. Hermione is happy, healthy, and safe. I understand you wish to speak with her about what your sister had to say in her letter and I will allow it, but if you start any kind of fight or duel on Hogwart's grounds I will ban you from returning, do I make myself clear?" The Headmistress looked every bit as imposing as her tone sounded, with her arms crossed and one brow cocked high on her forehead.

"Crystal," Ron agreed, though the grim smile he sent her way did nothing to assuage either McGonagall's or Harry's concerns. After telling the boys where they would find Hermione's private room, and both turned to leave her office, she called after Harry quietly, worry evident in her tone.

"I know, Headmistress. I'll do my best to keep him in line, you have my word."

The insistent pounding woke both Hermione and Draco. After exchanging a sleepy, yet worried look, Hermione threw the covers back and got out of bed. Throwing on her bathrobe and smoothing down her curls, the witch noticed her beau slowly getting out of bed himself, all the while grumbling about the lack of manners of whoever was trying to beat her door down. Hermione had an inkling of who might be on the other side of the door and held up her hand when Draco made to go answer it.

"If I'm right, and we both know I often am, it might be best if you stay here for now," she nearly laughed at the way he rolled his eyes at the beginning of her statement, but then his eyes narrowed and she could see the moment it dawned on him who the rude wanker beating on the door was.

"I'd rather you not face him alone, Hermione," and as it always did, hearing her first name in his sleep-roughened voice sent a delicious kind of shiver down her spine.

"I know," she whispered while walking over to him. Pushing up on her tiptoes, and ignoring the fact that she'd yet to brush her teeth, Hermione kissed Draco slowly, trying to calm his alpha male tendencies with her lips. "And if he crosses the line, you're more than welcome to interfere but if we both go out there right now," Hermione's words were cut off by a bellow of her name, causing her to flinch in response. "It's only going to make matters worse from the start."

Draco crossed his arms over his chest, making his muscles stand out in stark definition. "Because I slept in your bed, you mean?" Hermione could see the fury building in his pewter eyes and reluctantly nodded her head in response. She moved to leave her bedroom, only to have her wizard grab her hand and pull her back to him. Cupping her cheeks with both of his warm, large hands, Draco spoke in a low, serious voice, "If he so much as breathes on you wrong, I'm coming out there. I refuse to hide from the Weasel and I'm not comfortable with this, at all."

"I know, I'm sorry," Hermione whispered and searched his gaze for a long moment. "You're right. You shouldn't have to hide." With a long-suffering sigh, she pulled his hands from her face before leading him from the room with her. "He'll just have to get used to it," though her words were strong, Hermione felt anything but. Pausing at one of the overstuffed chairs, she motioned for Draco to take a seat and hurried to answer the door, wanting to put a stop to the migraine-inducing sound as quickly as possible.

"Coming!" The frazzled witch called, shooting one last glance over her shoulder at her boyfriend and taking a steadying breath before she pulled the door open. Hermione felt palpable relief when she spotted Harry beside Ron, hoping he might be able to help her keep things calm. "Ron! Harry! Is everything alright?" Hermione questioned, pulling her robe more tightly around herself.

"Is everything alright?!" Ron fumed, red-faced with anger and from pounding relentlessly on the heavy door.

"Yes, we're all okay, 'Mione," Harry reassured the witch, rolling his eyes at Ron.

"Oh come off it, Harry. I don't know why you're not just as upset as I am! Malfoy, Hermione, really?! You tell me three months ago that after everything you don't think it's a good time to start something and then, next we hear, you're dating a Death Eater?! Have you lost your bloody mind?!" Ron's voice steadily climbed as he gained steam and Hermione grimaced at the spittle flying from his mouth.

"Do not call him that!" Hermione began forcefully, before taking a deep, soothing breath. No good could come from being defensive. "Yes, really," she stated calmly, though she felt anything but. She could feel the tension bleeding into Draco's magic that was rippling all around her. "I meant what I said that morning, Ronald. And after some distance, I realized that you and I? We're much better off as friends, so I don't regret what I said." Huffing slightly and straightening her spine at the look of disbelief on her friend's freckled face, she continued. "As for Draco," Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's loud scoff at the name. "He's not at all what we thought. I've spent the last several months getting to know him and he's a wonderful person. If you'd give him a chance, I'm sure you could see that too."

"Hermione," Harry started, with a small grin he tried to smother unsuccessfully stealing across his lips, only to be interrupted once again.

"A wonderful person? A wonderful bloody person? He watched his aunt torture you in his own house, for pity's sake! He's using you, he has to be! And I love you, Hermione. I always have! You're willing to throw that all away to be some, some Death Eater's whore?!" His fist shot out and hit the door mere inches from Hermione's face and she jumped back with a small shriek. Without her body blocking him from entering, Ron pushed his way inside with Harry hot on his heels, whispering furious words of reproach in his best friend's ear.

Hermione felt her heart banging against her sternum, knowing that last slight against her would not go ignored by the wizard who had loved her for years in secret. Draco could manage to remain aloof and unaffected most of the time, but one way to make him react every time without fail was to insult or demean someone or something he loved. So, it was no surprise to her at all when his icy voice sounded just over her shoulder, and it had been so long since Hermione had heard him speak that way that it sent chills running through her entire body.

"If you know what's good for you, Weasel, you'll never call her that again," the implied threat was loud and clear and when Ron made to grab the witch and pull her away from Draco, the tall, muscular blonde had her pulled safely behind him in an instant. "Do not touch her, Weasley. Especially while you're in such a temper. I would have no problem ridding the world of you if you harmed so much as a hair on her head."

"Oh yes, Hermione. He's changed so much," Ron said with scathing sarcasm, his upper lip curled in disgust and anger. "What was it Malfoy? None of your Pureblood princesses would have anything to do with you after your family fell from grace so you decided to try slumming it with a mudblood?"

"Ron!" Harry admonished, clearly disturbed by his friend's behavior. "That's enough. You're not even giving them a chance to explain themselves. You just called Hermione that horrible slur and I don't think you even realize it, mate. You have to calm down or I'm pulling you out of here, right now."

"Oh, shove off, Harry. Why are you even here? You weren't even surprised this morning. How could you keep something like this from me?" Ron growled at his friend, though he never took his eyes off Malfoy and the protective stance he held in front of Hermione.

"Ron, mate, you're being unreasonable here," Harry admonished quietly, shaking his head at his friend.

"The only reason I haven't cursed you already, Weasel, is because it would hurt her," Draco swore in a voice full of deadly promise, while Hermione held on to his jumper with a death grip. "And for your information, I've loved her for years. What happened over Easter is literally my worst nightmare, and I don't know how she could ever forgive me, but by the grace of Merlin, she has. And believe me, I will do anything and everything to keep my witch safe, so I would suggest you calm down before I make you."

"Okay, okay," Harry muttered and moved between the two enraged wizards, one hand on his wand, the other holding Ron back. "Enough. Ron, we came to make sure Hermione was okay, not this. Either calm down, or we're leaving." Then turning his attention to the witch in question, acknowledging Malfoy with little more than a bob of his chin, Harry addressed her directly. "Are you okay, Hermione?"

"I'm fine," she murmured quietly in response, moving to stand shoulder to shoulder with her beau rather than cowering behind him. At Draco's dark look, Hermione sighed and turned, making her way to the sitting area. "Or rather, I was fine before Ronald decided to not only question my sanity but also insult and belittle me. Is that all you were planning to do today, Ronald?"

"You're bloody serious about this?" Ron questioned, his voice like ice. "You're choosing Malfoy, of all people, over me?"

Draco backed away from the two intruders, keeping his eyes on the Weasel the entire time, before taking a seat next to Hermione on the small sofa and wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders.

"I'm not choosing anyone over anyone else, Ronald. I don't feel that way about you. You're one of my best friends, but nothing more. I love Draco, and if you can't accept that, then you should leave." Her voice shook and her body trembled throughout, but Hermione remained firm. She wouldn't allow Ronald Weasley to come in and undo everything she and Draco had worked so hard for.

Harry's bright green eyes bounced between everyone in the room, his wand in hand and at the ready, but the wizard remained silent. He trusted Hermione's judgement and knew that when his best friend's mind was made up there was no hope in changing it. Still, he hoped Ron would see reason and calm down, though he knew better.

"I can't believe you. I came down here to make sure you weren't under the Imperius or hadn't been fed Amortentia and instead, the wanker's in your bed with you, of your own free will. I never thought you'd be a money hungry slag like the rest, but I guess I was wrong." The red-head spat.

Draco was on his feet in an instant, his wand trained right between Ron's eyes. "I swear Weasley, one more insult and I'll remove your tongue."

With angry tears flooding her eyes, Hermione bravely raised her chin and whispered, "Just go, Ronald."

Furious and indignant on Hermione's behalf, Harry forcefully gripped Ron's shoulders and began pulling him back toward the door. He knew Ron would make a fool of himself if he came while still angry, but the way he spoke to the girl that had saved their necks too many times to count? It made Harry sick to his stomach.

"You heard her, Ron. Let's go." He commanded in his most authoritative voice. "We promised McGonagall, remember? Let's. Go. Now."

"And leave her here with the likes of him?" Ron seethed, whipping his head around to meet Harry's eyes with an accusatory gaze of his own. "You can't be serious, mate."

"Hermione asked you to leave," Draco growled, his patience already expended and his wand hand itching with the need to curse the freckles off the slimy git. "So leave."

Ron, realizing he was greatly outnumbered, turned to give Hermione one last look of betrayal and disgust before letting Harry pull him from the room.

"Oh, and Weasel?" Draco called out just before he and Harry turned the corner out of sight, his wand still trained on the freckled freak. "If you ever speak to my witch that way again, even she won't be able to stop me from cursing you to the point that your grandchildren's children feel it."

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry said in a sad voice with wide, apologetic eyes. She only nodded to let him know it was okay before he pulled the door closed behind them. Their raised voices could be heard from the hall, growing quieter with each step back towards McGonagall's office.

Hermione stared vacantly at the door, where her two best friends had just been, and tried to process what had just happened. She knew Ron had a terrible temper and had expected to see him soon enough, knowing Ginny would take it upon herself to spread the news. But his barbed words and pointed accusations hurt far more than she had expected. And Draco? Her bloodshot and misty eyes moved to where he stood, back straight and tense, with his wand still clenched in his hand at his side.

"Are you alright?" He asked her in a soft voice, though he didn't turn to face her.

"Yes," she swallowed thickly and fought hard to keep the pain of Ron's words out of her voice. "That's probably the best I could've imagined anyway. He's always been more of a 'blow up now, think about it later' sort. He'll come around eventually, or he won't. But it's on him, either way."

"I'm sorry," Draco murmured, finally turning and pulling her into his arms. "I'm sorry but I couldn't stand him speaking to you that way." He buried his face in her sleep-mussed curls and breathed in deep gulps of her calming scent. "It took everything I had not to curse him where he stood."

"I know," Hermione murmured as she wrapped her arms around his middle. "I'm proud of you for keeping your cool, that couldn't have been easy."

"Don't listen to a word of what that arsehole said, Hermione. You know as well as I do it's his own bruised ego that made him say those things. Nothing could be further from the truth."

"I know," she agreed once again. And she did know. Hermione spent many long evenings over the last three months thinking about Ron and how he would handle her burgeoning relationship with Draco. She'd long ago decided that his opinion of her relationship just didn't matter. "Would you mind having breakfast here? I don't really feel up to facing the firing squad right now."

Pulling back to search her face and then press a sweet, gentle kiss to her forehead, Draco agreed. "Sounds perfect. Are you sure you're okay, love?"

His worry and the way he cradled her so protectively in his arms left Hermione feeling as precious as the rarest and most expensive diamond in all his vaults. She felt cherished, and once again the sting of tears burned her eyes, though she'd be damned if she let them fall. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him down to meet her lips halfway and kissed him slowly, pouring all her emotions into it. Several pleasurable minutes later, she offered him a smile that was only slightly sad, as he pressed his forehead against hers.

"You go shower," Hermione insisted, scratching her blunt nails against his scalp, something he loved for her to do. "I'll make breakfast, deal?"

With a smirk that didn't entirely reach his eyes, Draco nodded and kissed her lips with a gentle reverence - once, twice, three more times before pulling away. "Deal," and with an affectionate swat to her bum, left the room to do as she ordered, but not before seeing his favorite soft grin light up her face and a rosy blush darkening her cheeks, settling the unpleasant emotions raging within. That smile, he thought, could lift him out of the darkest pit of despair and drench the white-hot flame of his anger, and he found himself grateful for it. For her.

And he'd sooner take an Avada to the chest than allow her to be disrespected because of him again.

Footnote: So, that happened. Thoughts? Comments? Things you'd like to see? I can't promise to get everything in there, but I have plans. Oh ho ho, yes. I have plans. Hope you liked it. xx - otterly