Smoothing her palms down the smooth navy satin of her gown, Hermione appraised herself a final time. She'd kept it rather simple, a few pins in her riotous curls and a simple, if not elegant, floor-length gown.

After almost a week in the infirmary, Hermione was finally on the mend. That had left most of the Yule planning duties to Malfoy and nothing terrified her more. She was quite certain she was going to walk into a bare hall with a dingy tree in the corner and a record playing a single song on repeat.

Pinching her cheeks, she turned for the door or her private dorm and began winding her way through the castle. Her date was waiting at the end of the stairs with his back turned, but even from here she could make out the meticulous tailoring of his suit. All these years and she'd never noticed just how handsome and thoughtful he could really be and now that she had, she had no intention of letting him go.

As she reached the final steps, he turned, chestnut hair perfectly parted and styled, a smile on his thin lips. Theo's hand came up, clutching at his heart as though he was suffering and she rolled her eyes in response as she came to stand by his side.

"You know, of all the ways I thought this year might end up, showing up to the Yule Ball on the arm of Hermione Granger, just wasn't one of them."

She hummed, a knowing smile playing on the corner of her lips as she wound her arm around his and they worked their way towards the looming doors of the Great Hall. Once inside, the air was dragged from her lungs. Thick garlands of emerald and crimson hung on the walls, the tables dressed in ivory and gold. Around the room were dozens of full Christmas trees, large baubles and fairy lights tucked into its branches.

It was far lovelier than she remembered it being in Christmas' past and she couldn't help the grin that worked it's way over her features at the thought that Malfoy must have put into this.

"Malfoy didn't do a half-bad job in your absence," Theo admitted begrudgingly.

"Agreed. It's a pity I won't get to enjoy it…" her voice trailed off as she stretched onto her toes, neck-craning around the party goers until she found the one she'd been looking for.

With a snort, Theo tugged her closer. "And why on earth is that? You're not ditching me for Malfoy, are you?"

Once she'd caught the emerald gaze of her best friend standing near a table in the corner and looking like a sore thumb, she waved excitedly and began dragging Theo along.

"Rowena's rack, Granger. What on earth have you done," Theo hissed in her ear, the heels of expensive shoes attempting to dig into the stone floor. "Tell me that's not Harry-bleeding-Potter."

As her attempt to pull him along became less and less effective, she stopped, huffing. "Of course it is! You said you fancied him!"

"I said I fancied the idea of him more than I fancied the idea of shagging you!" His voice fell into a low admonishment but Hermione could see the nerves threatening to pull her newfound friend under. "I don't—I've never…"

Turning to block his view of the Boy-who-lived, Hermione brought a gentle hand up to Theo's cheek. "I told Harry he was coming here to spend the evening with you. It's not a trick; he's not here under false pretenses. He got special clearance from McGonagall and everything; he was excited to meet you."

The blood drained from Theo's face, his head cocking back as though Hermione had just offended his entire familial line. "He did? Merlin, why on earth would he do such a thing?"

"I think," Hermione edged, nudging his slight frame with her elbow, "that Mr. Potter fancies the idea of you as well. He mentioned you were quite fit."

"Fit?" Theo's features twisted and she noticed the way the apples of his cheeks had darkened. "That seems an exaggeration."

"You think? Ask him yourself." She shrugged. "You'll find Gryffindors to be a little more forthcoming with their intentions than you sneaky lot."

Just then, Harry arrived at her side, hands shoved in his trouser pockets with a sheepish smile. "Hello, Hermione."

"Hi, Harry." Hermione leaned over to brush her lips along his cheekbone and then turned to her date. "Harry this is Theo Nott, my friend, and your date for the evening."

Theo was adorably and utterly speechless, his lips attempting to form words that his brain couldn't compute. Lucky for him, Harry wasn't quite as bashful.

"Harry Potter, how do you do?"

The simple greeting disarmed Theo and his features fell. "Well, I'm pretty sure everyone in the entire Wizarding world knows you, mate. But hello, Theo Nott and I do just fine."

While the two of them made eyes at each other, Hermione grinned between them. "I hope you boys have a lovely night!"

"And you?" Harry said, finally tearing his gaze from Theo's. "What'll you be up to then?"

"I have to make the rounds and make sure that at least all my prefects aren't drunk or well on their way, and then," she paused, chewing on her bottom lip, "I have a date."

xXx

He'd said it once but it deigned worth repeating: the audacity.

The absolute and utter audacity of Hermione Granger attending the Yule with that fool after everything he'd done… everything he'd been through.

The entire ordeal set his blood on fire; that paired with the burning fever coursing through his veins because that witch had snogged him minutes before succumbing to the Black Cat Flu left him in quite an irritable state.

And now she was downstairs, twirling in that arseholes arms in the most romantic setting Draco could dream up? He growled as he settled deeper into his pillows, a petulant pout pulling on his lips.

Just as he was quite seriously considering leaving the confines of his bed and the safety of the infirmary, donning his best pair of dress robes and marching into that hall to claim said witch, the door creaked open.

There, in a stunning navy dress, was Hermione Granger. She had an excited smile, her finger pressed to her lips as if to shush him and for the briefest of moments, he felt marginally better. Holding a bag in one hand and her heels in the other, she quickly padded across the empty cots and to his side, Madame Pomfrey none the wiser as she tugged his curtain closed.

"Hi," she whispered.

Draco remained obstinately quiet, his brows puckered in his indignation that she would dare show her face here at all.

"Oh, don't be such a sore loser." Rolling her eyes, she pulled her wand free and muttered a few silencing spells and then took a seat on the edge of his bed. "Did you honestly think I wasn't going to win the bet?"

"Seriously?" he deadpanned, the word coming out like a choked croak. "You gave me the plague and went on the date just to win a bet? A bet I called off a week ago?"

A delicious bubble of a laugh burst past her lips and she smothered it with her palm. "Well, the plague wasn't intentional, just a delightful bonus. And the wager was never about winning, not like I'd let you take over duties for me anyhow; it was about principle."

His eyes narrowed. "And what principle is that, Granger?"

"That I know you infinitely better and what drives you mad; not to mention, that you are nowhere near as superior at mind games as I am." Draco's jaw fell open; the witch was certifiable. "Besides, since you are holed up on your arse, one of us had to make sure the ball got off without a hitch. Which it did—you did a wonderful job, Draco."

The use of his given name paired with that ever-elusive compliment from Granger's lips caused a smile to fight its way onto his lips and he stubbornly fought it off by huffing and sinking further onto his cot. "Thanks," he grumbled, setting his sights firmly straight ahead and not on the delicate strap of her dress.

"So, since Theo is now safely in the arms of Harry, the ball is in capable hands, and the wager won, I thought I might stay with you awhile. That is if you decide to drop your icy exterior because it's rather unbecoming."

Draco weighed his options carefully. He could indeed thaw some of his glacial disposition and accept the witch's offer, or he could remain alone in this dreadful infirmary fighting a fever while she danced the night away. For being the selfish git he was, the choice was rather simple.

"Well," he said from the corner of his mouth, gaze twitching back towards her. "I'm not very good company when I'm sick. This is about as pleasant as I can get."

A laugh wrinkled her nose and she stood. "I figured as much."

In movements far too fast for Draco to make sense of, she stood, lifting the thin straps of her gown from her shoulder and slid them off, the sapphire fabric pooling at her bare feet. She was left in naught but a pair of lacy knickers and a bra without the proper straps and in that fleeting moment, Draco was sure he'd died. His cock twitched in his sleep trousers and he groaned from the full-body ache of his fever rejecting the idea of an erection entirely.

Eyes wide and nearly popping from his skull, Draco fumbled on the bed to sit up straighter, wincing at the effort. "Gr-Granger…"

"Well, I'm not going to lie in next to you in a ball gown." Rolling her eyes, she reached down for her bag and pulled free a set of sleep shorts and a tank top, wiggling them on her body as Draco watched in awe, his jaw still gaping. "There, better. Now, scooch."

"What's that?"

"What's what?"

"A scooch."

Her hands fell onto her hips, her foot turning out and she gestured to the bed. "Merlin, move the hell over! Let me in!"

Scrambling, he obeyed, reveling at the feeling of him sliding in next to her and curling around his aching body. His skin hurt a bit, but he dared not say a word as she threw an arm over his torso and rested her head on his shoulder. It was nice—more than nice, really—and he felt his entire body sink into her.

She splayed her fingers over his chest, their breaths syncing as they laid in the quiet. "You'd really rather be up here with me than down at the last Yule Ball?"

Humming, she nodded and tilted her face up to his. "I would much rather be here with you, surprisingly enough. You're not half as bad as you'd have people believe and while you throw one hell of a party, I already find you to be an infinitely better cuddler. When was the last time Pomfrey made rounds?"

"Maybe twenty minutes ago?"

"Perfect, we've got a while then." She shimmied further into his side and instinctually he curled his arm around her waist, tugging the blanket up around them.

Granger's hand came up to rest on his cheek as she moved to kiss him and he swiftly pulled back. "You'll get sick," he chastised, his brow knitting.

Clucking her tongue, she pressed onward until her lips were hovering over his. "I'm the one that got you sick, silly. Besides, it'd be worth it." Then, she was kissing him, fingers trailing his jaw as her lips moved softly over his. When she pulled back, resting her head again on his chest, he felt that for the first time in a long time, his luck was starting to change… and all thanks to Theo-bleeding-Nott.

Would wonders never cease?

xXx

A/N: Ah! I wanted to have this up this weekend but alas, life, love, and hangovers got the best of me. Thanks for joining me on this silly little story! It was fun to lighten things up for a bit and I always appreciate you guys reading! Especially when it's unbeta'd and Valentine's day just dumped a hundred wonderful stories on your lap!

I'm sorry if I'm remiss in responding to your reviews! I am trying to get better but it depends on the day it seems. I do read and covet each and every one!

If you want to chat with me join the Dramione discord server for my AMA this weekend!

Until next time!

LK