He turned, and his eyes scanned her before replying, "No. No party tonight."

She lifted a doubtful brow. "Why?"

"It's been postponed." He tossed the apple between his hands, keeping his eyes away from her. "A mission from the Dark Lord has taken precedence."

"You can't avoid me forever, Malfoy. We're in this together whether you like it or not, and the sooner you—"

"Did you hear a word I just said? It's not happening tonight." He brushed past her without another word.

Hermione huffed at the empty kitchen, fists clenched. He was clearly lying.

So at ten o'clock that night, she cracked her door open, waiting to hear the sounds of him leaving the Manor. After half an hour with her eye on the door, she moved to her balcony windows, wondering if he'd left through his own fireplace. While she still didn't have access to her balcony, she could press her face to the glass and look for the light coming from his bedroom.

It was dark.

She glared and stomped into her bathroom, deciding on a bath while she waited for him to return. As she relaxed into the warm water and bubbles, she tried to think of ways to convince Draco to bring her back to Edinburgh. He didn't think she was capable of the sexual challenges they would face, but she could convince him. She had to.

She had to get back to Cho. She needed to figure out who Charlotte was and whether that grape had meant what she thought it did. She'd been stuck inside of Malfoy Manor for two months now, and Edinburgh was the closest she'd gotten to the remains of the Order.

Let pragmatism be the death of principles.

Hermione had to prove to him that she could handle herself. Whatever it took.

After midnight, she dragged an armchair to her balcony window and read a book with one eye on Draco's balcony, waiting for a sign of life from inside the room.

At a quarter past two, her bleary eyes drifted up from her pages. Light was pouring from inside his room onto his balcony. She jumped up, wide awake, the book tumbling on the carpet. Yanking a jumper over her pajamas, she marched out her door and to his.

She rapped on his door and waited, anger unfurling in her belly.

When no response came, she knocked louder, more insistently.

She was just raising her fist to pound against the wood when it swung open. Draco stared down at her, leaning forward on the doorframe with one hand still on the door.

"Why are you still up?" he demanded.

She glared at him, lifting her chin. "I should be asking you the same thing. You haven't been out, have you, Malfoy?"

He swallowed and said, "I have. I was on a Mission from the Dark Lord."

"Then why do you smell like cigars and Firewhisky," she hissed.

She would have this out with him. She would demand that he take her next week.