She answered him, her eyes looking directly into his, her voice soothing once again. "I am afraid of what you can be, just like I am afraid of what I can be, Draco." In that instant, his name stopped sounding foreign in her mouth. "If we ended Voldemort, nothing would stop me from turning into him, punishing pure-bloods, having the muggle-borns just like me take control."

They burst into laughter at the same time.

"Hermione," he tried... "You don't stand a chance."

"What?"

"You're bright enough not to make the mistakes Voldemort has made, but you're a good person. You'd never do that. You're nice and well-behaved and you can sometimes be sunshine on a cloudy day," Draco told her, his cheeks turning red as soon as the words were out. "Forget I said that!"

She smiled at him. "Do you really think that of me?"

"I thought... it was my turn to say funny things..." The blush on his face made his statement even less believable. "Enough with that! We should get going and think of what we do to get to Romania. That's the location!"

Hermione frowned. "Romania?"

"Yes, there are lots of dragons there and my father has a particular interest in those creatures. I don't much share it, but they're nice to see outside your window when you're spending the holiday at the house. Besides, I don't think you don't know what my name means in Latin." Draco looked away, mimicking the confidence that was once glued to his face, back when nobody was dead or dying because of Voldemort, back when they were careless kids, not magical soldiers at such an impossible war.

Draco... dragon...

She nodded. "You're right. We must go."