Isn't April such a hyped month? Endgame, a Blackpink and BTS album, Game of Thrones, a possible Taylor Swift album, and Draconian... It's a great time to be alive.

x Noelle

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Quietens sound.

of those rare evenings with an empty house when Hermione decided she was ready to leave the room. Draco had been dozing off in his chair. She noticed that he never did sleep properly, and his wand was always beside him.

Hermione couldn't help but watch him; the way his shoulders rose and fell steadily, and even while unconscious he seemed to exude this essence of confidence that she knew she could never pull off. Well, at least not now anyway. Pansy had told her that she used to be one of the brightest students during their Hogwarts days, and Hermione supposed that she had been a lot more confident back then.

"Confident, and aggravating," Theo hadn't minced his words one bit. "Merlin, Granger, you were fucking annoying."

Funny how they'd never gotten along in the past, because she now got along with him like a house on fire. Draco, too. She glanced over at Draco and smiled. Maybe the war had changed them and their perspectives.

So maybe good things did come out of a war.

"Do you always watch people sleep, Granger?" Draco's voice abruptly broke the silence and he slowly opened his eyes, watching her with thinly veiled amusement. Damn him and his heightened senses.

Hermione blushed rapidly. "Well, I wasn't – it wasn't like..."

"It's fine, Granger," he quickly cut in, when she began to flounder for a proper reply. He got up, his jumper rising over his lean hips to reveal a pale strip of skin as he stretched.

And he had to stifle a smirk when he noticed Hermione's eyes flitting over to him, her cheeks darkening further before hastily glancing away. It was nice to know that he wasn't the only one affected by her presence because, Merlin, he swore her scent and her lips and all of her just did his head in sometimes.

"Are you hungry?" He asked.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Actually, I was wondering if...you'd show me the rest of the house?"

"You want to leave the room?"

"Just to look around."

She looked so afraid that he felt something in his chest pull. "Sure, Granger."

He waited for her to climb out of bed and straighten her (well, his, actually) jumper. She took slow, unsteady steps towards the door and her hands were shaking, actually shaking, as she waited for him to undo the locks on the door.

She paused hesitantly by the doorway; her eyes fixed on him rather than on what was outside. And so Draco held out his hand for her to take. "Come on."

She slipped her hand in his and automatically interlaced their fingers. And then she shifted slightly behind him, gripping onto the sleeve of his jumper. "Okay. I'm ready."

It was just a simple act of leaving the room, but Draco knew it meant more than that. It was like showing the world to a snail that had lived in its shell for so long. And the rest of the world was daunting – and at a time like this, frightening. So nothing about this process could be rushed.

Draco showed her the living room and the kitchen. He noticed the way Hermione's eyes lingered on the Wizard's chess set on the coffee table, a thoughtful, confused expression slipping onto her features. The fucking Weasel loved playing Wizard's chess. Clearly, some things, however vague they were, could never quite be forgotten.

But she soon lost interest in that, and asked which rooms were his friends'. He showed her Pansy and Blaise's shared one, as well as Theo's.

He briefly showed her the guest room, before going to the last room, which was the inventory. Maybe it was the dismissive tone he used when talking about it, because Hermione didn't push or ask about it. Which suited him fine. He wasn't sure if he could risk Hermione's life by letting her know what they did.

Not yet, anyway.

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"Draco? Are you awake?"

"Yeah." He smirked to himself in the darkness. This was quickly becoming Hermione's catchphrase when she wanted to talk to him at night.

"Do you – do you remember the time I punched you in the face?"

He'd never forget that. "What about it, Granger?"

"I think I remember why I did that."

He froze.

"I used to think it was only because I was mad at you. But I think – and...correct me if I'm wrong," she continued, oblivious to the barely concealed tension on his face. "I think it had something to do with a...bird, or something – "

"A hippogriff," Draco offered, watching her carefully. "Cross between a bird and a horse," he explained, when Hermione began to look confused. "In my defence, Granger, the bloody chicken injured me. It was mental and had to be executed."

Hermione blinked. "You tried to kill the hippogriff?"

"It was mental!"

"It was an animal, Draco...you probably provoked it or something."

Draco automatically scowled and leaned back against his chair. "I'm not having this argument with you, Granger. Go back to sleep."

She laughed and settled back on her pillow. But her gaze was soft as she looked up at him. "I don't hate you for what you did back in Hogwarts."

"What?" How has she known his fear—that he worried she'd remember the stupid things he did and hate him for them?

"I remember you calling me a mudblood," she said, matter-of-factly. Her eyes drifted over to the scar on her arm that Bellatrix had branded her with and Draco felt his insides twist painfully. "And you making fun of me back in school...it – it all comes in flashes, but even if I remember these things, it doesn't make me hate you, Draco."

Merlin, she knew. Hermione Granger had always been the brightest witch of their age anyway.

"Because it's all in the past," she added, after a moment's pause. "It's all forgotten."

And then something clicked. He froze as realisation dawned on him. That one piece of the puzzle finally fit.

It's all forgotten.

It all comes in flashes.

Of course. Hermione's memory had been erratic. She remembered some, forgot about others, and remembered more after awhile. He'd thought all along she had her memory tortured out of her with the Cruciatus. But no, it wasn't that.

It had never been that.

Someone had used Obliviate on Hermione Granger.

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Pansy never hated herself more than she did on the nights when there was a full moon. It was always a harrowing night of screaming and crying and sleepless hours, and she hated that she had to involve the other three Slytherins because of her condition.

Blaise has dropped her back that morning with a quick kiss before hurrying off for his patrol. She awoke on the sofa sometime around eleven, her body stiff and aching. To her surprise, a blanket had been draped over her, along with a mug of tea on the table.

She blinked down at the unfamiliar blanket. It was Hermione. Pansy shook her head and smiled, before reaching over to take a sip of tea.

Well, one thing was for sure. Hermione Granger didn't remember much but she sure remembered how to make good tea.

Pansy climbed to her feet, picked up the mug and blanket, and headed Draco's room. Hermione answered after three knocks, and smiled in relief to see her. "Pansy, how're you feeling?"

"Much better, thanks to you. I didn't realise you've been leaving the room."

"Not all the time," Hermione admitted. "Draco brought me out some days ago. I wanted tea this morning so I came out and found you in the living room."

"You make good tea."

Hermione's smile widened. "I remember making it a lot for myself in the past."

"What else do you remember?" Pansy asked curiously.

"Well – Christmas," Hermione confessed, after a moment's pause. "Not much, but I remember decorating the tree. And – presents, I think people always gave me books for Christmas."

It was a conversation with Hermione that Pansy remembered clearly. So when she passed Diagon Alley with Draco several days later, she paused in front of one of the shops that sold Christmas trees. There was a wide range of trees, from white tipped ones to evergreen firs. Despite the war, Christmas was one of the few holidays many people still celebrated.

Pansy and the others never celebrated Christmas, because merriment was just plain pointless thanks to their job description, but Pansy wondered if it was worth it this year, if only for Hermione. She tugged Draco to a stop and pointed out a particular tree to him.

He shot her a flat look. "You know I fucking hate Christmas."

"Well, Blaise loves Christmas. And so does Hermione,' Pansy added pointedly. "She loves decorating the Christmas tree."

She smirked in triumph when Draco let out a heavy sigh, before stalking into the shop and purchasing one of the most expensive, greenest ones, along with several other arbitrary ornaments he picked out.

And then, ever the gentleman, he made her lug the tree back to the apartment.

But Pansy thought it was very worth it to see the look of sheer happiness on Blaise's face when he saw the tree set up in the living room. Blaise immediately set down the book he was reading, crossing the room in quick strides and proceeding to kiss her soundly. "This is why I love you," he murmured, in between kisses.

Pansy smiled, but a shout of horror cut through the overall merriment. Theo stepped out of the kitchen, and stared at the tree in utter disgust.

"What the fuck – " he turned to Draco. "What's a fucking plant doing in our living room? Mate – " and then he paused as Draco set a brown paper bag down on the coffee table. Draco shot Pansy a look, but Theo didn't catch it and continued heatedly, "there better be firewhisky and condoms in there or I swear on Salazar's grave, Draco, I will – "

His voice vanished as Pansy hit him with a silencing charm. Before he could remove the spell from himself, Blaise and Pansy had dragged him into the kitchen, where the counter blocked them from plain view of the living room. Theo finally removed the spell and scowled at the happy couple.

"What the hell was that for?"

Pansy smiled at him. "The tree's for Hermione. She spent three years in captivity, don't you think she deserves some holiday spirit to cheer her up?"

Theo scowled again but kept his mouth shut. Damn Pansy and her bloody guilt-trip.

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Draco thought he was rapidly losing his mind. First, he'd bought a stupid Christmas tree. And then, he'd actually bought ornaments to go with the bloody tree. Stuff some pillows under his shirt and drape a red cloth over him and he might as well be Santa fucking Clause.

Hermione was reading—a hobby she's seemed to pick up again. She looked up when he entered and smiled brightly at him.

"Granger, there's a bloody Christmas tree in the living room," he said bluntly, before she could greet him. "Do you want to decorate it?"

Her eyes widened and she scrambled off the bed. "You bought a Christmas tree?"

"Pansy's idea," he admitted. "She thought you might like one."

"I do love Christmas." Hermione beamed and took his hand. He led her out of the room, well aware that his friends were in the kitchen anticipating her reaction.

Pansy was right – it was worth it, and the look on Hermione's face left no room for second-guessing. Her eyes lit up when she caught a glimpse of the tree, before her gaze travelled to the ornaments laid out on the coffee table and her smile widened. Then she glanced over at him, over at the other three Slytherins, and back to him again.

Draco smirked. "All yours, Granger."

She needed no further encouragement. Dropping his hand hesitantly, she went over to the coffee table and began selecting specific ornaments. Draco sauntered over to his friends and leaned against the counter beside Theo, who still seemed quite repulsed.

"She's choosing all the fucking Gryffindor colours," Theo hissed, making sure to keep his voice low so that Hermione couldn't hear. "Look! Red, gold, red, gold – "

"Strange," Pansy seemed quite amused. "And we didn't even tell her the colours of her house. She couldn't even remember which house she was in until I told her."

"You know what I see? I don't see red, gold, red, gold. All I see is Potter, Weasel, Potter, Weasel," Theo spat out their names like some sort of bad tasting food, and Draco couldn't help but smirk. The war had changed many things but not his entire belief system, and he completely and wholeheartedly agreed with Theo.

"But look how happy she is," Pansy said, with the kind of warmth they seldom heard from her. "I think we should all get her presents this Christmas."

Theo's mouth fell open. "What?"

"It's a great idea, baby," Blaise nodded. "It's pointless for us to celebrate Christmas for ourselves, but we could celebrate it for her. Theo?"

Theo made a reluctant noise of agreement. The four continued to watch Hermione for a moment, before Pansy broke the silence. "The red and gold ornaments are quite compatible with the green tree though, don't you think?"

Blaise wrapped his arms around her and laughed. "Ah, Christmas. The only time of the year where Gryffindor's colours actually matches Slytherin's."

But Draco wasn't listening. He found himself enraptured by the light on Hermione's face, hardly able to take his eyes off her as she decorated the tree. She seemed completely absorbed in the task, hardly noticing the other four Slytherins in the kitchen. Her curls were in disarray and he watched as one of her brown locks caught on a branch, and she tugged it away quickly before going back to hanging a gold globe on that same branch.

It wasn't an earth-shattering moment, or one that Draco knew he would remember in years to come. It was this moment, a particular lazy afternoon during a chaotic time and a girl hanging ornaments on a stupid Christmas tree – when Draco Malfoy suddenly realised that he had feelings for Hermione Granger.

The realisation terrified him more than ever, but the adrenaline rush that quickly followed was just as exhilarating, and he couldn't decide whether he loathed or craved it.