Archive of Our Own

All she could see were dust and debris- her ears rang from being much too close to the explosions bursting in every direction and she choked on the stench of blood and death. 

She was running, her wand throwing up shields and random hexes as she jumped over everything in her path; broken stones, fallen bodies, downed wooden beams. 

Almost there. Almost there. Almost there. 

The mantra matched the rhythm of her pounding feet. She could see the staircase. 

Just as her foot was about to hit the bottom step, something grabbed her ankle and she went crashing down-

Hermione sat up, sweating and breathing heavily. The air was clean, her ears were clear, and her eyes were staring at the curtains surrounding her bed in the darkness of her dormitory.

Shakily, she parted them and touched her feet to the tower floor, walking calmly as she could to the bathroom she and her dorm-mates shared.

Gripping the sink, she dared a glance at herself. Her hair was, of course, a disaster. Between the thrashing she was surely doing in her sleep and the sweat from her nightmare, it was only natural that it had puffed out and knotted. Her eyes had circles- not as dark as they used to be, but she could see them well enough; her lips dry and cracked and her skin slowly losing the red flush caused by the exertion in her dream.

With a final once over and a relaxed breath, she turned away to return to bed. Her dorm-mates were still fast asleep, unaware of her bout of distress. 

Settled once again, drapes drawn, she allowed her mind to wander for just a moment. Had she made the right choice, coming back to Hogwarts to finish her education? Should she have just accepted one of the many Ministry positions offered to her? 

Harry had felt like Auror training was right for him, that becoming one was his way to honor the sacrifices of the fallen. Ron- well, Ron was just doing it to make his mother happy. He was actually waiting for his chance to go out for some of the Quidditch teams he'd gotten offers from in the summer.

She certainly hadn't wanted to be an Auror, but Kingsley had given her a slew of things to choose from. In the end, she politely declined and explained that she wished to have at least one year of normalcy in a school setting. He smiled and assured her that once she finished, she could have any opening of her choice.

And so, there she was, her first night back in a place she hadn't been in months, already being haunted by what happened.

With a huff, she turned herself on her side and squeezed her eyes closed, willing sleep to come back and begging for it to bring nothing with it.

Her wish was granted.

The morning light hammered onto her face as the bed curtain was pulled aside.

“I am in shock, Hermione Granger. It's the first day of classes and you're not already awake and dressed?”

Ginny's smiling face came into view through her squinted eyelids. The girl had wallowed in her grief all summer and promised herself that she would use going back to Hogwarts as her way of moving forward. 

She even accepted a Prefect position along with Hermione. 

After the feast the night before, the girls ventured to where they were told Fred had died. Ginny collapsed with her arms around her friend and she cried for a long time. 

They'd gone back to Gryffindor tower and went to bed in silence.

It seemed, now that the morning had come, Ginny was sticking to her self proclamation of going forward.

Hermione sat up and stretched, opening her eyes fully and giving a strained smile before throwing back the covers and planting her feet on the floor. Everyone else in the dorm had already left.

“Yes, yes, what an absolute travesty,” she joked, moving around Ginny and heading into the bathroom to brush her teeth and such.

When she came out, she dressed quickly and then shot Ginny a look of desperation and pointed at her head, “Please?”

A charm and fight with a hair brush later, her curls were managed and flowing nicely down to the middle of her back.

They entered the Great Hall and sat across from one another at the middle of the Gryffindor table. They looked further down to see Neville, who was sitting and laughing with Seamus and Dean, his Head Boy pin glinting in the sunlight, while Parvati sat across from them rolling her eyes with a smile. 

Surprisingly, well, maybe not really, Luna was on her one side and her sister, Padma, who had been appointed Head Girl since Hermione declined, was on the other. The two Ravenclaws seemed right at home.

Their surrounding house mates smiled at them, some of the younger ones waved or looked at them shyly. They politely acknowledge everyone before beginning their breakfast.

Only ten others in Hermione's class were back to repeat their final year of school as "8th" years, about half were there by Ministry order, which meant their lessons and dorms were shared with the current 7th years. Those choosing not to return were granted Completion Certificates, specifying they were exempt from their 7th year examinations under extraordinary circumstances.

Her eyes flicked to the Slytherin table across the room. She'd spotted the "probation" students the night before at dinner, but they looked a little more at ease than they had when she first saw them.

Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, and, of course, Draco Malfoy; all who had been testified for by herself and her two friends.

They were children, thrown into a mess made by adults for the sake of saving their own lives. Hermione and the boys knew this; they had been forced to do something similar. So, they were made to return to Hogwarts and be monitored by the Ministry. Honestly, it was better than any alternative punishment- at least, that was Hermione's opinion.

As if sensing her gaze, the first person to look in her direction was Daphne Greengrass. She smiled brightly at her, catching the attention of the others. Parkinson scowled, but nodded in greeting. Nott and Zabini gave small smirks. 

Surprisingly, Malfoy wasn't sneering- he wasn't smiling either. His expression could be described as calculating; assessing her thoughtfully, but not menacingly. It made her squirm just a little. He'd never looked at her with anything other than disdain.

Greengrass noticed and shook her head, then looked to Hermione with a somewhat apologetic grimace. She smiled kindly at the Slytherins and nodded back at them, carefully avoiding eye contact with Malfoy. 

Ginny followed her eyes over her shoulder.

“I suppose it's nice that they're grateful to you,” she commented, turning back around and reaching for more bacon.

Hermione shrugged, “I did what I felt was right. None of us should have been a part of this; none of this should have ever had to happen.”

Her tone was curt, signaling Ginny to drop the subject. She took one more look at the table on the other side of the room. Malfoy was still staring at her.

She was almost taken aback, but, knowing better, schooled her features. He had a shocking amount of intensity in his eyes, mixed with a tiredness she was all too familiar with. His lips were set in a weak line.

And if she hadn't waited before putting her head down, she would have missed the slight sag in his shoulders as he gave one nod toward her. She arched a brow, purely in his fashion, and nodded back. The action seemed to spark something in him- he flashed with surprise for just a moment, and then one corner of his mouth tugged up in the smallest smile she'd ever seen. 

As quickly as it started, the moment ended as owls began to swoop into the room, dropping letters along the tables.

An envelope with Harry's unmistakable scrawl fell beside Ginny's plate.

She gave Hermione a sheepish look and quickly stuffed the letter into her bag.

It was nice that Harry and Ginny still found love and comfort in each other in a romantic way after everything.

The summer had not been so kind to her and Ron; it took her two weeks after the heat of battle had subsided and the weight of all that happened settled upon them to realize that they just weren't compatible in a romantic way. But she tried to work through it, for his sake.

Ron had suffered a great loss, but in seeking solace in Hermione and her body, he did not allow her to do the same. 

He stayed with his back to her when she woke beside him, crying, screaming, and begging at a witch who was long dead; he shut down when she tried to talk about her parents and wanting to find them after school was done.

And the few times they had sex, he kept his face buried in the crook of her neck and rutted into her hard and fast whether she was ready or not, seemingly uncaring about her pleasure.

She told him one night, two weeks before she was to leave for Hogwarts, as he went to kiss her neck before bed that she thought they shouldn't keep trying to pursue a relationship.

"I will always love you, Ron, I do love you, but it's not in the way you think I'm supposed to."

His face began to turn purple. "But we're meant to be together! We're in love!"

She shook her head. "I was once, Ron, but I don't feel that way anymore most of the time. I'm sorry."

He had slammed the door in her face and she made a home in Ginny's room, considering she snuck out most nights anyway to sleep in the attic with Harry. 

He didn't speak to her those final weeks and hung back from Harry and them on the platform the day she and Ginny waited to board the train. 

She wondered if he'd ever speak to her again.

Hermione sighed as she gathered her things and stood up from the table.

“What's first?” Ginny asked as they made their way to the doors.

“Charms with the Ravenclaws.”

“Easy enough.”

“Yes, today's schedule is pretty simple,” Hermione remarked, holding the timetable in front of her, “Charms, double Herbology- oh, Neville is going to love that,” she rolled her eyes.

Ginny giggled and looped her arm through Hermione's as they walked the rest of the way to class.

The smell of the library was still a source of calm for her. No matter what had been going on during the last few years, it was among the shelves and stacks where she could be at peace.

Tucked in her favorite corner at a small table near a window toward the back, she worked on the Charms assignment given to them that morning.

The first day of classes had been just as she predicted. The next would probably be a bit more challenging. Transfiguration, followed by Defense Against the Dark Arts, then a free period until lunch, and double Potions to end the day. 

That last part made her frown. She didn't really enjoy potions to begin with, but the fact that it was a double period and with the Slytherins was like the universe playing some cruel joke on her. Sure, she could be courteous towards them, but the way Malfoy looked at her during breakfast still sat with her.

Grumbling slightly, she continued scratching her quill on the parchment in front of her.

“Hard at work already, I see.”

Her head snapped up at the voice, surprised that it belonged to none of the usual suspects.

Daphne Greengrass stood at the extra chair across from her, beaming. 

“May I sit?” she continued, as if Hermione had greeted her.

“Oh! Alright, let me just-,” she hastily began condensing her things to make a space for her unexpected guest.

“Thank you. What is it you're working on?” 

Hermione watched her lower into the seat and then take out parchment and a Herbology textbook. 

“Charms assignment given this morning, actually.”

The blonde witch smiled brightly at her again. “Oh, I love Charms. I have it tomorrow afternoon. Are you taking any of the extra curricular classes like Ancient Runes or Divination?”

What is happening right now?

She stared at her unblinking for a moment. Greengrass had never really spoken to her before. 

The first time had been after the trials. Yet, there she was, talking with her like they were good friends.

“Uh, yes, Ancient Runes. Truthfully, I can't stand Divination, but I do like Arithmancy. I was actually selected for the Advanced class this year.”

“Of course you'd prefer it to Divination,” she nodded in understanding, “It's challenging. Naturally you'd be inclined to take it.”

Truly stumped, Hermione blurted, “Why are you sitting with me?”

Daphne gave a light chuckle. “Because I like you.” 

“Oh, well, it's just that we really haven't spoken before-”

“Yes, and I'm trying to change that. The animosity between you, and I, and my group of friends has gone on long enough and, quite frankly, I think we should just all get along. So, if we could start over, I'm Daphne Greengrass.” She extended her hand.

Hermione was a bit surprised. Though Daphne had never outright bullied her like Parkinson and Malfoy, the accountability she was taking was startling. She stared at the blonde for just a moment before clearing her throat.

“I couldn't agree more. Nice to meet you, Daphne, I'm Hermione Granger,” she grinned at her while she shook her hand and Daphne sighed with relief.

They worked with light chatter for about a half an hour before someone found them.

“There you are, Daphne! Pansy said Astoria has been looking apparently everywhere for you and I'm about ready to-”

The girls set their attention on none other than Draco Malfoy.

“Malfoy,” Hermione challenged, brow raised.

He didn't miss a beat, but there was no malice in his voice. “Granger. Finishing an assignment I'm sure was given to you a mere few hours ago? How typical.”

Daphne coughed lightly and Malfoy looked at her.

Hermione went back to her parchment, writing with a little more force than necessary.

Malfoy and Daphne spoke quietly so as not to disturb her, until he seemed to lose his patience.

“Merlin, Granger, if you press any harder you're going to write through to the table. What has that parchment ever done to you?”

“Draco,” Daphne hissed.

“I'm pretending it's your face, Malfoy,” she replied coolly, not bothering to move her attention from her writing.

Immature, she knew, but it was all she could think of, and going on the defensive was just natural in his presence. 

Complete shock ran through her at the full bodied laugh that came out of him. She had to look up to make sure it was really him releasing the sound. Her mouth instantly fell open. 

Daphne put her hand to her temple, shaking her head back and forth slightly. She turned to Hermione, “I guess I'll see you in Potions tomorrow? And then in Ancient Runes?”

Snapping her mouth shut and switching her focus back to Daphne, who was putting away her things, she nodded, “Yes.”

Malfoy recovered from his outburst, wiping at his eyes dramatically. “Oh, Granger. You never disappoint. See you tomorrow.”

He winked at her before following Daphne away.

She felt her eyes bulge and her quill slipped from her fingers.

What the bloody hell- could this day get any more strange?!

“Alright, what did I miss while you were hiding in the library?”

Hermione almost choked on her roast beef, “What are you talking about?”

Ginny rolled her eyes, “Malfoy has been staring at the back of your head since you sat down.”

She knew that already. She felt his eyes on her the moment she entered the hall and purposely chose to sit with her back to the Slytherin table.

“You're being ridiculous. I'm sure he's just looking in this general direction,” waving the hand holding her fork dismissively.

"If you say so. His expression is just very intense.”

Her eyes widened. Oh, sweet Circe.

She turned her torso part way to see what was going on behind her. Malfoy was visibly elated that she could see him now. She gestured for him to get on with whatever it was that he wanted. He grinned broadly and it terrified her.

And then went on pretending she didn't exist.

What the hell just happened?

Ginny voiced a similar question, “What the bloody hell was that?”

Hermione faced her again and shook her head, “I have no idea.”

“What happened in the library?” Ginny demanded.

“Nothing! Daphne Greengrass and I did some work together, she came to me and explained that she wants us to be friendly and I agreed. Malfoy found us because he had been searching for her and he made a comment about me writing violently on my parchment and I told him I was pretending it was his face, and then he laughed, Ginny, like he was the bloody son of Santa Claus, and-”

“Merlin, slow down-”

“I said goodbye to Daphne and he winked at me before he followed her out.”

“Wait, wait, wait! He winked at you?”

“Yes...”

Ginny furrowed her brow for a moment before she set her focus to the Slytherin table. Hermione knew that look.

Something clicked and she tried to stop her before she got ahead of herself. “Ginny, no.”

“Good Godric, he fancies you! And he doesn't have anything to hold him back!” Her eyes were sparkling.

Speaking to the ceiling Hermione breathed, “Gods, strike me dead.” She shook her head. "It was just a wink-"

"I mean, aside from being an arse and a bully, he's kind of fit. Tall, archaic facial features. He's got that fallen angel look we learned about in the religion part of Muggle Studies fifth year working for him.”

“Yes, I suppose he and Lucifer do have much in common,” she muttered, poking at her cold dinner. 

Ginny snorted. “We're supposed to be moving on, having a normal schooling experience this year. Liking boys is normal.”

“Yes, but it's Malfoy. Ferret extraordinaire. Giant git. Tormentor for majority of our lives-”

“And while that's true, you know better than anyone why he is the way he is, considering it was the main point of your testimony on his behalf. 'He is more than just an outcome of immense childhood trauma'.” 

Ginny had a brow raised while Hermione had the grace to blush. There was no denying that she'd said that and she hated having her own words used against her. 

Sensing this, Ginny continued, “Look, I know it's Malfoy, and as much as we don't like him as a human being, maybe give him some time to adjust to life without his father's influence and the threat of his and his mother's lives at stake. Perhaps he's trying to have a normal school experience like the rest of us?”

“I suppose so… that's very mature of you to say.” 

"I still don't like him or his relatives, but we all need to heal and have things that help us...cope."

Hermione was annoyed at Ginny for being right; she was getting too caught up in her nightmares. She also spent more time than she realized looking for ghosts in the dark corners of the halls.

They didn't say anything for the rest of dinner and Hermione made sure to keep her eyes forward and not look for a certain blonde on her way out of the hall. She stayed quiet the whole walk to Gryffindor tower, running over what Ginny had said on a loop.

Maybe. Maybe with everything being over, Malfoy had some redeeming qualities. Maybe he was actually a decent person.

If ferrets could be considered people. Not to mention he is, or at least was for the majority of the time you've known him, a blood prejudice prick. She scowled at the voice in her head.

She didn't speak again until a while later, wishing Ginny a goodnight and good luck on her Prefect rounds. She went up and fell into her bed, letting her mind work until it couldn't anymore and it was enough to grant her a dreamless sleep.

“Zabini? What are you doing here?” Ginny stopped short on the stairs to the entrance hall. 

The Italian looked up from studying his immaculate fingernails and smirked as he pushed himself off of the wall he'd been leaning against. “I'm here for rounds.”

“You're not my partner,” she snapped. 

He shrugged. “I am now. Your previous partner made an offer to switch with me. I agreed.”

She rolled her eyes. “Wha-” she cut herself off and stormed passed him to the notice board near the Great Hall entrance where the rounds schedule had been posted at lunch.

Ginny found his name, looked at who his original partner had been, and smirked before looking back at him. He flashed a quick expression of surprise and then smiled at her.

“So,” she began, “Malfoy asked to switch you for Hermione did he?”

“He may have,” he answered, his sly grin never wavering.

“We'll have to tell the Head Boy and Girl tomorrow morning about this change, so they can put out an updated schedule.”

“Of course,” he agreed.

She went to his side then and looped her arm around his. “Zabini, I think we have a lot to talk about.”

“Oh? And what makes you think I'll be inclined to speak to you about anything?”

Her smile widened as she dragged him with her to the stairs. “Because I'm just as much in the mood for some meddling as you are.”

Hermione walked slowly to the dungeons with Ginny beside her, practically bouncing with energy. Clearly, she was the only one dreading potions.

“Lighten up! You're not bad at potions and Slughorn adores you, so I don't get why your face looks like you've had a vomit flavored Bertie Botts.”

“You'd look this way too if you had to spend a double period with a boy who apparently wants to suddenly flirt with you.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “For Godric's sake he winked at you. And smiled at you. How is that flirting? I was really just teasing last night at dinner when I said he fancied you. Don't you think he's just trying to get by, by being as decent as he can be? You're well aware that the entire school avoids him like the plague.”

Hermione had noticed. Most students, including the younger classes in his house, carefully stayed away from him and his friends.

“Well, whatever it is, I am not looking forward to it for an extended class.”

“You're being ridiculous.”

They entered the classroom and stood with Neville and Parvati, thankful that Dean and Seamus picked the lonely table in the back; too far for the rest of them to be subjected to the aftermath of an inevitable explosion.

Hermione refrained from searching out a particular Slytherin as she shed her robe, while Ginny was openly smiling in Blaise Zabini's direction. They were sharing a table with Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson, and due to the uneven amount of students, Theodore Nott.

Slughorn announced they'd be brewing Skelegrow to help replenish Madam Pomfrey's supply, all of which, he reminded them, had been used up after the battle.

They set to work; the instructions on a chalkboard at the front of the room.

“I'll grab the ingredients,” Hermione murmured, walking away from the table.

Ginny locked eyes with Blaise and cocked her head in her friend's direction.

He waited until she disappeared into the store closet.

“Draco, grab the ingredients would you? Now?”

The blonde raised a brow. Daphne overheard and shared a confused look with Theo. Pansy was perched on her stool, flipping through a magazine. Blaise was busy setting up his cauldron, refusing to look at anyone.

“Er- alright?”

He discarded his robe and draped it over his stool, then walked to the closet and went inside. 

Hermione looked over when the door opened and froze, resembling a frightened deer.

“Granger,” he greeted a bit stiffly, stepping forward and reaching around her in the small space.

“Malfoy,” she managed to choke out, with her body still stuck in place. 

He leaned close to grab a small jar of scarab beetles behind her and she could smell him; the freshness of his clothes mixed with the faint scent of cologne- sandalwood and ambergris.

Naturally, he uses something expensive, she sniffed internally.

She wanted to roll her eyes just as much as she found herself wanting to inhale deeper.

Wait, what? Why in Godric's name would I do that?

As he stood straight, he cocked a brow at her expression.

“Kneazle got your tongue, Granger?”

She scoffed, turning and pretending to peruse the shelf for more ingredients. 

"No, I just don't like having rodents so close to me."

He leaned back and then smiled slyly when he noticed she already had all she needed in her arms. She could see him through her peripheral vision and shivered slightly. 

“I'll be going.” 

She willed her legs to carry her the short distance to the door beside them. 

He quickly grabbed the rest of the ingredients and moved right behind her, putting everything in the crook of his right arm and pinning them securely to the side of his abdomen. He reached for the handle at the same time she did; their hands brushed and she yelped in surprise. She looked back at him with the same wide eyes she'd had when he stepped into the room.

He gave her his signature smirk and pulled the door open, forcing them both to take a step back to make space. He stopped short, though, and she bumped into his chest. It seemed she was once again frozen.

“After you, Granger.” His voice was at her ear, breath lightly moving curls near her cheek.

“Right,” she gasped, and ran out of the closet, almost bumping into some other students who needed to get in.

Returning to the table, she slammed everything down, which caused Ginny to jump.

“Merlin, Hermione! What's the- Oh, wow, are you alright?”

“What? Yes, I'm fine.”

She certainly did not look fine to Ginny. She was quite obviously not taking her attention away from the busy work she was doing with the ingredients on purpose. It was then that Ginny turned her head and watched Malfoy, seeming rather pleased with himself, standing back at his spot between Blaise and Theo.

“This wouldn't have anything to do with Malfoy, would it?” she whispered.

Hermione tensed, but kept her head down. “Why on Earth would you think that?”

Ginny chuckled softly, “Because he's staring and has an overtly smug expression on his face.”

“Of course.” 

The brunette let loose a frustrated noise while the redhead laughed out loud, causing Neville and Parvati to glance over.

Hermione grit her teeth and finally lifted her head, finding Malfoy in less than a second. It was just as Ginny said; he was staring at her, his eyes sparkling and his smirk was complacent.

“Oh, for the love of Merlin,” she huffed.

Daphne, who had been observing stealthily, kept darting her eyes between them.

Ginny let out another barking laugh, making more students look over. 

Hermione realized and kicked her under the table.

“OUCH!” 

“Pay attention to what we're doing. I refuse to get a failing grade on a potion this simple.”

Ginny grumbled and they worked in silence for the rest of the period.

When they were finally dismissed, everyone packed up and headed to the door all at once; except poor Dean and Seamus, who had to clean up the mess their concoction had made. 

Hermione didn't even wait for Ginny; she threw on her robe, slid her bag onto her shoulder, and bolted.

“Really, Hermione?” She heard her friend call out and made the mistake of looking back apologetically, which in turn caused her to crash into someone.

She was steadied by a pair of large hands on her upper arms before she could go tumbling backwards.

“Oh! I'm so sor-”

She stopped as she took in the shit-eating grin on Malfoy's face.

“Careful there, Granger. Don't want you falling over for me in this kind of setting," he leaned his head down as if to tell her a secret, but didn't change the volume of his voice, "Much too public.”

Zabini and Nott snickered and Daphne smacked at them for it; Parkinson was clearly uninterested in the entire thing and made her way to the corridor.

Resorting to her defenses, Hermione blushed violently as she pushed against his chest to back out of his hold.

“As if I would do anything like that with you.”

His smile just widened and she hmphed as she walked around him and out the door. She ran to the tower as fast as her feet would carry her.

Ginny looked unnecessarily sly when she sat across from Hermione at dinner, who once again had her back to the Slytherin table.

“So,” the redhead began, “what happened in potions that has you avoiding the snakes?”

Hermione glared at her. “You were there. It was nothing.”

“Oh, come off it. I saw him follow you out of the store closet. He looked entirely too smug. And then I saw you run into him. Whatever he said to you turned your face the color of your bed hangings.”

“Nothing. Happened,” Hermione snapped.

Ginny sighed disappointedly, “Whatever you say.”

They continued their meal with mindless small talk and Hermione was grateful that Ginny didn't bring up the infuriating blonde behind her again.

Later that evening though, as Hermione was on her way to the portrait hole for rounds, Ginny gave her a peculiar piece of advice.

“Since you're going to be early, double check the partner list. I heard there were some last minute changes.”

She rolled her eyes as she fastened her robe. “I highly doubt that rumour is true, it's the second day of classes and was still the same as of dinner time last night.”

“Yeah, you're probably right,” Ginny shrugged, settling back in her chair by the fireplace and lifting her Quidditch magazine a little higher to cover her smirk.

Bothered a bit, Hermione walked faster than she normally would have to reach the entrance hall. There was no sign of her partner, so she made a bee-line for the notice board. 

Trying to calm the erratic beating of her heart, she ran her finger down the list until she saw her name, then dragged it across the page.

“Oh, for Agrippa's sake-” 

“Hello, Granger.” 

She closed her eyes and let out a loud breath before facing him. 

“Malfoy,” she sighed. 

He was giving her that damned smirk as he walked closer to where she was standing, an almost finished apple in his grasp. 

“Ready for patrol?” 

He took a final bite of the green apple and she watched, transfixed on the size of his hands compared to the fruit. He caught her and licked his lips dramatically as he wordlessly vanished the core.

She snapped out of it.

“What happened to Zabini?” she growled. 

He shrugged. “We switched partners.”

She blinked, confused. “Why?” 

Her back hit the wall beside the board when he leaned closer to her, completely invading her personal space and tempting her to breathe deeply so she could revel in his scent again. 

“Because brunettes are more my type.” 

For the life of her, she couldn't understand why the suddenly low timbre of his voice made her shiver, but the flash in his eyes and full blown smile on his face told her that he'd noticed. 

He's enjoying this.

Before she could formulate some kind of response, he moved away and headed to the stairs. She watched him, unmoving. 

He looked over his shoulder. “Ready then? I promise, I won't bite.” The smirk was back. “Unless, of course, you ask me to.” 

That seemed to give her brain a kick start. She pushed away from the wall and stormed toward him. 

“Prick,” she grumbled, marching right by and going up the stairs. 

“What was that?” 

The smugness in his voice almost made her whip around to tell him off, but she just glared at him instead. "Can we just get this over with?" 

He appeared beside her as they stepped off into a corridor, looking falsely wounded. 

"Why, Granger, is that how you feel? And here I thought our first time could be something special, but you just want to go ahead and rush to finish." 

"Oh, that is it!" 

She exploded, turning and pushing him up against the closest wall; her wand was out and under his chin so fast he'd barely blinked before he realized what was happening. She definitely surprised him, considering he was nearly a head taller than her.

If he was nervous by the position she had him in, it didn't show anywhere on his face. In fact, he was giving her a wicked smile and his eyes were blazing with a plethora of emotions. 

"I knew you'd come around, Granger," he chuckled, pointedly ignoring her wand at his throat. 

"I will slit your throat open, Malfoy. That'll shut you up," she raised her chin and pressed a little harder into the skin as a warning.

"You're so beautiful when you're angry like this," he teased.

"What is going on with you? Why am I, all of a sudden, being subjected to this new kind of badgering? Gods, I almost miss you tormenting me instead!" 

"Oh, Granger, I could torment you in all the best ways, and this is just one of them."

"You're impossible! Why can't you just insult me? My hair, my teeth, my clothes, my blood?" 

He bared his own teeth at her.

She shoved him once before letting go and continuing down the hallway. He stayed a few paces behind her for the rest of the patrol. 

She didn't even say goodbye when it was over, but that didn't stop him from calling out to her. 

"Until next time, Princess!"

When she got back to the common room, Ginny was in the same spot, still flipping through her magazine. 

"You knew," she immediately accused. 

The redhead didn't look up. "Yes, Zabini showed up as my partner last night." 

Hermione bristled. "And you deliberately chose not to tell me?" 

Ginny shrugged. "If I had, you would have gone right to Neville and demanded a switch." 

She was right, of course, but that was beside the point. 

"Why are you so hellbent on Malfoy and I getting on? I don't understand where all this advocacy for him is coming from." 

Finally, Ginny tossed her reading material and stood. 

"Because I think it'll do you some good to spend time talking to or studying with someone who isn't afraid to challenge you or rival you in a debate; someone who won't back down when you get all shrill about something; someone who can match your intelligence. We love you, but most of us can't keep up. You need someone who can and, trust me, after talking with Zabini, Malfoy fits the bill. I know that our past with him was extremely unpleasant, but war changed all of us. I'm not telling you to be best mates with him, just try and coexist in the same space cordially. Besides, he can tease you about being a swot all he wants, but he's just as addicted to knowledge as you are." 

Hermione didn't realize her mouth had fallen open until the girl in front of her took a small step forward and gently pushed her chin up to close it. 

"Plus, he's fit." 

Her newly shut jaw clenched a little. 

"Why is that something you continue to point out?" she ground out.

Ginny laughed lightly as they began making their way up to the dorm. 

"Because maybe the more I say it, the sooner you'll see it." 

Hermione laid in her bed with her curtains closed, begging her subconscious to stay away from thoughts of blonde hair and mercurial eyes. 

It did not listen.

She spent most of her morning with her head down. 

Daphne sat next to her in Ancient Runes and she let out a breath of relief when Malfoy strolled in a moment later and noticed the seat beside her was taken, forcing him to sit off to the side and a row behind her with Nott.

Her Slytherin partner noticed. 

"You're welcome," Daphne teased.

Hermione faced her sharply. 

"I'm just not in the mood for his antics, especially not during a class I happen to thoroughly enjoy." 

"Well then," Daphne began, smiling knowingly, "by all means, enjoy it while you can." 

"What do you mean?" Hermione narrowed her eyes. 

Daphne gave her a side glance and a smirk that she was convinced every damn Slytherin possessed as a character trait. 

"Because you have Arithmancy after lunch," she lowered her voice slightly, "and so does he." 

A quiet groan slipped between Hermione's pouting lips as she faced forward, ready to take notes. Daphne settled in as well, then took a look to the left. Draco's gaze was lingering on the witch beside her. 

"Are you feeling alright? You haven't said a word and you've barely touched your lunch." 

The concern that filled Ginny's face was sweet, really, but it didn't help her admit that she was dreading her final class of the day. 

"Yes, I'm fine, just a bit nervous about Advanced Arithmancy." 

It was true, but it had nothing to do with the actual class.

Ginny waved her off, assuming that was what she meant. "I'm sure you'll do well. Didn't they only let select students take that one? You got chosen, obviously, for a reason." 

She smiled thinly. "I suppose you're right."

Ginny began chatting with Seamus and Dean, effectively leaving her to her thoughts. Her friend was, unfortunately, correct about everything she'd said the night before in the common room. It had been plaguing her thoughts since she woke up.

Well, I guess it's about time I let myself have a normal school year and coexist.

But, after the years of bullying and war, was being civil in the same space as someone like Malfoy possible?

It's behind me. I'm ready to focus on the path ahead.

Those two sentences had been on a loop for just about every occasion since the war ended; and it repeated as she walked from the Great Hall to Arithmancy.

Being the first to arrive at a classroom had never been an issue for her, but in this case, it had her darting her eyes around the hall before she walked in. He wasn't there yet.

She took a seat at the left half of the paired desks in the middle of the line, the five of which made a semicircle at the front of the room. As she began to unpack her supplies, she heard footsteps approaching from behind, and then-

"I knew you'd be the first one here, which meant I had to be the second."

She stiffened as he pulled the chair out beside her.

"And why is that?"

"So I could be paired with the second smartest person in the room."

The utter nerve of him.

She hummed indifferently. He took out his own supplies in silence, and before he had the chance to say anything else, the rest of the class filed in. They got a few stares and odd looks; of course it was strange to see them willingly sit beside each other.

The class was made up of only ten students who were a mix of seventh and eighth years. There were five faces she didn't know the names of, but the other three she was familiar with. Padma Patil was at the desk to her left in the seat closest to her and offered her a small smile and nod; her partner was a seventh year housemate. Theodore Nott sat at the desk beside Malfoy in the spot closest to him with Blaise Zabini grinning in the partnering chair.

How in the blazes were they selected for this?

It was then that she realized that she was the only Griffyndor in the room.

Of course.

She found the strength not to roll her eyes.

Professor Vector took her place in front of them.

"Good afternoon. Today, we will begin the journey into Advanced Arithmancy. I have hand selected the ten of you based on your excellence in courses you've taken in the past and my belief in your abilities for this subject. This is a trial course that will be made as a permanent elective after this year if eight out of the ten of you can pass with an average of Acceptable. I will work as intimately as possible with each of you to ensure that. So, please, if you need my help, ask for it. The person you are sitting beside will be your partner for the entire course. You will have two small projects to complete that will come together at the end of the year to make one overall project that will count for half of your total grade. I will give you a syllabus and project guidelines before you leave. All that being said, let's get started."

It was the most grueling introductory class Hermione had ever sat through. She had five pieces of standard parchment filled completely with notes. Malfoy didn't bother her the entire time.

Professor Vector stopped at each pair to hand them the syllabus and the guidelines for their project before they were dismissed. Apparently, they each had something different to work on.

"We should probably make a schedule to get together and work on these," she suggested without looking at him as she packed her things.

"We should," he agreed, doing the same.

Her stomach chose then to make an odd noise.

"Hungry, Granger?"

"I didn't eat lunch," she mumbled, walking briskly toward the door.

He, of course, caught up quickly, ignoring his two friends calling after him.

When they reached the corridor, he grabbed her arm and pulled her into an alcove behind a tapestry and gripped her upper arms gently. She hated how many of those hidden spots there were in the bloody castle.

"What are you doing-"

"No, what are you doing?" he shook her a little.

She was taken aback. "Wha- nothing! You're the one manhandling me in an alcove!"

His nostrils flared and, for a moment, he looked like he was going to explode- then suddenly, his facial features relaxed and she could feel his calming breaths tickling her face.

"Just, don't skip meals, Granger, yeah? Please, don't."

"Malfoy what are you-"

"Please."

The emotion in his blueish-grey orbs stunned her. They were so expressive sometimes; she wondered if he knew.

"I didn't do it on purpose, I was nervous about the class and I just couldn't eat."

He searched her face for a minute before rolling his eyes.

"You aren't nervous about classes, Granger. Guaranteed you already read the whole course text twice-"

"You don't know anything about me or what my nerves can handle. I'm allowed to be flustered over things, and it didn't help knowing that I was going to see you," she blurted.

Oh. My. Giddy. Aunt.

The smile that split his lips could only be described as wolfish and he took a step forward, which pushed her back into the wall of the small space. His hands had left her arms and were placed against the stone on either side of her head.

"Worried about seeing me, were you? Why Granger, I'm flattered to have made your stomach twist to knots."

Defense; it was all she knew.

"Oh, please, Malfoy. I only meant I was worried you'd try and do something ridiculous during class-"

He backed away from her to lean against the opposite wall and crossed his arms. "As if I'd ever do anything to you during a class like that. I'd like my bollocks to stay attached, thank you."

"Of course, self preservation-"

"Why do you have to get all bristled? I'm trying to be civil."

"Why are you so insistent on flirting with me? It doesn't make sense."

His body tensed and his face went red before he sputtered, "Wh- wh- you- so what if I am? I can flirt with whoever I choose-"

"Oh can you? Because I highly doubt your parents would approve of you flirting with a mud-"

He was on her in a second; a hand roughly over her mouth and his face completely menacing.

"Don't you dare say that word and leave my parents out of this, you ridiculous-."

He stopped and she heard his jaw click with effort to keep his mouth closed.

They were both breathing hard and she was sure he was just as aware that their chests were brushing.

He pulled away from her like she'd bit him. 

"There's the Malfoy I know," she whispered.

He growled and invaded her space again. "Yeah, well, I'm trying to be better than him. But, thank you for the reminder that I'm fucking failing."

And then he was gone.

He didn't turn up at dinner. She had decided to face his table and by the time dessert came, she stopped looking toward the door for him.

Ginny chose not to ask about anything, but offered her small smiles and hand pats.

"You'll figure it out," she had said when she saw Hermione's expression.

"I'm going to head to the library before bed," she announced after a few minutes of pushing a piece of cake around her plate.

"Happy reading," Ginny wished her.

She needed a distraction. Guilt was not an emotion she should feel in regards to Draco fucking Malfoy, and yet, her chest was heavy with it.

The library was practically empty; most students were still at dinner. She wandered to the poetry section, a rare thing for her. Most of the selections were written by goblins, but after the war, Madam Pince added some famous Muggle authors to the shelves. She grabbed a Keats anthology and headed to the nearest table in the section, finding no need to sit in her usual hiding place.

Halfway through the book, she heard a soft sigh, then:

"...I see, and sing, by my own eyes inspir'd.

So let me be thy choir, and make a moan

upon the midnight hours..."

Malfoy was leaning against the shelf at the start of the aisle. His school robe and jumper were gone, leaving him in just an Oxford shirt, with no tie and the top two buttons undone, and slacks. His arms were crossed, face guarded.

"'Ode to Psyche'," she commented knowingly, putting the book flat on the table. "You know Keats?"

He approached her carefully, looking at the spines beside him as he walked.

"Some. I prefer Lord Byron and Baudelaire; Poe when I'm feeling sullen. Dickinson isn't too bad either, and Shakespeare was a better playwright I feel, but the sonnets aren't awful."

"I-, I really don't know how to respond to that."

Smiling, he approached her carefully. He leaned against the table next to where she sat rather than fill the empty seat across from her. There were faint notes of the night air and cigarette smoke mixed in with the scent of his cologne.

"It's alright. I, uh, spent as much of my summer out of the manor as possible once house arrest was lifted after my trial. Mostly in Muggle London at the British Library."

Her lips parted slightly in surprise.

"I started in British History, then World History, then Poetry and Plays. I was halfway through Fantasy before term started. I'll probably finish over the holiday break."

Hermione was sure at this point her eyes were comically large. 

"Are you joking?"

His smile vanished and his jaw tightened, immediately going on the defensive. "Why would I make a joke about that? Do you think you have some sort of 'claim on the territory' because you're Muggleborn? It's a public library. And I, a British Citizen, am the public."

Her mind was whirling as she scrambled to respond. 

"No! That isn't what I meant! I'm sorry, I'm just trying to wrap my head around this-"

She stopped as he reached behind him and pulled out a very new looking, leather billfold. He opened it, took out a laminated card, and handed it to her.

British Library

For research, inspiration, and enjoyment

There was a small grainy photo of him printed on the card- beside it was an expiration date, and his name and member number were beneath it.

"You gave them your real name?" was all she could think of as she handed it back.

His shoulders fell a bit. "Of course. No one knows me there." He was quiet for a moment, "They couldn't deny me entry based on it."

He shrugged as he tucked the card away and put the leather back in his rear pocket.

"And you carry a billfold now?"

"I noticed it was where muggles kept their cards, seemed like a safe place and helped me fit in. I keep some pounds in there too, just in case. A new habit I picked up I suppose."

She was absolutely astounded, then she couldn't help herself.

"Along with smoking cigarettes?"

He had the grace to look guilty and rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, yeah, you could say that.”

“I'm guessing that's what you were off doing instead of having dinner?”

“I got something from the kitchens before I went for a walk.”

She shook her head. 

“They're not good for you, you know, and they'll make your teeth yellow. Also, don't keep your billfold in your back pocket, it's more likely to fall out or be stolen.”

“Swot,” he bit out, as he moved it to his front right pocket. 

The silence that followed wasn't awkward, just thick enough to make Hermione squirm a little in her seat. Malfoy was looking at the shelves behind her.

"I'm sorry, about earlier."

He waved her off. "It's fine, Granger. Did you eat dinner?"

"I did. Why-"

"My mother skipped meals a lot when the Dark Lord lived with us. The habit stuck with her even after his downfall. She was hospitalized. It hurt, watching her wither away."

She nodded in sympathy. "That's awful. Is she doing better now?"

"Yes. She was returning to herself again towards the end of summer, once she and her sister began having frequent visits."

Harry had mentioned to her before she left for school that Andromeda started making trips to Malfoy Manor; the estranged sisters were now all the family either of them had.

"I'm glad to hear that she and Andromeda are reconnecting."

"She needs someone, other than me. My father doesn't count for anything, especially since he's back in Azkaban for the foreseeable future."

Lucius' trial was taxing; the trio had been present for every single trial after the war and she remembered his being one of the worst. The number of charges was astronomical and she recalled the look of absolute and utter defeat on the face of a man who had once looked down his pointed nose at her.

Hermione tried to keep her features void of emotion, she didn't want to think badly about his father in front of him.

"I can see your internal struggle, Granger. You can be glad that he's in prison. I know I am."

"What?" The surprise in her voice was evident.

"He's an awful man who couldn't think for himself. And when he realized he was on the side that was losing, he ran away like the bloody coward he tried so hard to beat out of me and dragged us down with him."

Malfoy sniffed and turned his head away, trying to come off as indifferent, but his hands were balled into fists.

She stayed quiet for a minute, taken aback by how open he was being with her, considering just a few hours ago they'd been fighting. When she spoke again, her voice was soft.

"I'm happy that your mother is returning to herself and not skipping meals anymore. I promise you, I do not skip meals on purpose."

At the mention of his mother and change of subject, he visibly relaxed and turned his focus back to her.

"Good. I don't want to see that happen to anyone, ever again."

She absentmindedly began running her finger up and down the spine of her book, watching it rub the painted lettering.

"Why would you even care if I do?"

He didn't bother hiding the fact that he was startled by her question, but his expression flashed guarded before it morphed into the smugness she'd seen the past few days.

"Let's skip the clichés, Granger. I'm not going to tell you I've always harbored feelings for you or that I see you in a different light now that I don't believe all the shite I was taught. Fact of the matter is, I realized that my hatred for you wasn't really because of your blood, it was because I couldn't understand how someone like you existed. You were the complete opposite of what I'd been taught Muggleborns were and you honestly, still, infuriate me in almost every possible way-"

Her eyes narrowed. "You're getting a bit off track there, Malfoy-"

"The point is, that I would like to actually get to know you, because-", he hesitated for just a second, "you've, uh, always been a good person and I had to blatantly ignore that."

She offered him a small smile.

"And something about arguing with you just gets me all," he leaned closer to her face, "hot and bothered."

"Oh, lovely," the sarcasm was thick in her voice, but the tint of her cheeks gave her away.

"Tell me, Granger, do you actually detest me or is having a spitfire defense just a natural reaction to having anything that's seemingly flirtatious said to you?"

She laughed. "A bit of both I guess. Really, I just don't know how to not protect myself."

"And I assume I can somewhat blame Weasley for that?"

He watched her expression sour and interjected before she could speak.

"You don't have to explain, Granger, and I certainly don't mean to offend you."

She sighed and began to stand.

"Bold of you to assume I only had to protect myself from Ronald, considering all the things you've done to hurt me. But, it's alright. It's behind me. I'm ready to focus on the path ahead."

Malfoy scoffed as she passed him down the aisle, sending her book up to its place on her way out of the section. He caught up quickly.

"That sounds a bit rehearsed."

"Yes, well, I've repeated it to myself for months since everything ended. I still need to on occasion, when I have to remind myself that time is moving forward and I should too."

"How very philosophical of you."

They turned out of the library doors in the direction of Gryffindor tower.

"Don't make me hex you."

"It's not your hexes that I'm worried about," he grumbled.

She rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what he was referring to. 

"Oh, please, Malfoy. It was a little slap and it happened almost 5 years ago."

"A little sla- I'll have you know that your entire hand print was on my face. Visibly."

She laughed and the way his eyes lit up reminded her of a happy child.

Light banter, she decided, was nice. This was a side of him he'd never let her see before; as if she were one of his friends. But, she still felt like she should keep a certain guard up, he seemed to still when she asked about certain things.

They arrived at the tower a lot sooner than she would have liked, but she didn't dare share those thoughts.

He leaned on the wall beside the portrait, the Fat Lady sizing him up. He gave her a cherubic smile that Hermione didn't ever think he could muster and the lady sputtered and blushed, looking away from the both of them.

“Until tomorrow, Granger?” he questioned, turning the smile on her.

She pretended to be annoyed, but could feel her cheeks tighten from her mouth's traitorous grin.

“Tomorrow,” she agreed, “Goodnight.”

Malfoy grabbed her hand as she turned to face the portrait and yanked her into his personal space, making her suck in a breath.

“Goodnight,” he whispered, letting go of her hand gently and winking before finally departing.

When he was out of sight, she released the air she'd been holding in her chest.

“Watch out for that one, dear," the Lady warned, "He's a sly Devil.”

Hermione laughed lightly, shaking her head and waving for the lady to open up. 

“I think he puts the Devil to shame,” she mused, taking one last look at where he'd rounded the corner to disappear before finally walking through the portrait hole.

The common room was quiet; just a few people chatting and working on things in groups. She nodded and waved to whoever acknowledged her, making her way quickly up to the dorm.

Ginny better be tucked into her bed-

"So? Did he find you?"

The red head was alone in their dorm, sat up against her headboard with her bed curtains open, flicking through a Witch Weekly of all things.

Damnit.

"Of course you told him where I was," Hermione sighed, dropping her bag by the foot of her bed.

"He grabbed me when I was leaving the hall. I was surprised and must have looked a bit mad because he practically fell over himself to ask if I had seen you."

She grumbled to herself as she changed into her pajamas and stomped to their shared bathroom.

Ginny at least waited for her to get into bed before trying to get anything out of her.

"Are you going to tell me what happened or should I just sit with him at breakfast?" She was joking, but the glint in her eyes hinted at something else.

Hermione settled herself and looked to her friend.

"He found me in the library, poetry section actually. I wonder how long it took him to find me-"

"Hermione," Ginny groaned, about ready to burst.

"Anyway, he recited Keats to me and then we chatted for a bit; talked about books he'd discovered over the summer and his mum and dad, and then he walked me back here." She shrugged.

Ginny was noticeably disappointed. "At this rate, you two will finally have sex at fifty."

"Ginny," Hermione snapped, throwing a decorative pillow at her, "I'm just trying to coexist, like you said! Not shag him!"

She laughed as she caught the pillow. "The amount of pent up aggression between the two of you over the last six years could definitely lead to amazing sex."

Hermione shot out a finger. "Ginerva, stay away from my Sherrilyn Kenyon novels. They're nonsensical and grossly inaccurate; your brain has been compromised."

"Then why do you own them?" she challenged, crossing her arms.

"Because- because- oh forget it. Goodnight."

Hermione drew the curtains shut to the sound of her friend's quiet laughter and buried herself under the covers.

The first three weeks of classes passed by in a blur of copious note taking and long library visits.  

So when Saturday came at the end of the third week, she grumbled at Ginny to leave her alone, considering it was her birthday, and slept in. Once she woke, she knew she'd missed breakfast.

She took her time getting herself ready for the day. A long sleeved, deep purple tee-shirt, dark blue, worn down denims, and black and white trainers were perfect for her day, already having planned to spend most of it at her favorite table in the library. Daphne had mentioned she might join her eventually.

After setting down her things, she browsed the shelves in search of a few titles that she believed, aside from the books they'd been using, could help her and Malfoy with their Arithmancy project.

When she returned to the table, she stopped short- an apple sat on the space in front of her chair. 

She looked around wearily as she approached the fruit. Nothing popped out at her. She slid the pile of books onto the table and then took her seat, staring at the apple.

It was the most perfectly smooth Granny Smith apple she'd ever seen. No bumps, no bruises, and the perfect shade of green all the way around.

With caution, she picked it up. Looking around and seeing nothing suspicious, she sniffed at it. 

Doesn't smell like any potions.

She took out her wand to cast the few poison and charm detection spells she'd learned during her time on the run and came up with nothing.

Her wand fell to the table and her stomach rumbled just a bit, a reminder that she hadn't eaten since dinner the night before.

Deciding it was fine, she sank her teeth in, breaking the skin with an audible crunch. The flesh inside was slightly cold and caused a chill to run up her spine.

It was delicious.

"Where did you get that?" 

Daphne appeared suddenly and Hermione choked mid-chew.

"It was here when I came back from the stacks," she coughed out, once she swallowed.

The Slytherin girl grinned broadly as she sat in the chair across from her. "Oh, really?"

"Yes? Why?"

Daphne set out some parchment and her Ancient Runes text. "No reason. I missed you at breakfast, and I'm guessing someone else did too."

Hermione couldn't help but notice the smugness in her expression. It reminded her of Ginny.

"What do you-" she cut herself off, looking down at the sweet fruit. She'd skipped a meal. The apple; she'd seen the very same kind in the very large hand of someone not long ago.

"Malfoy," she breathed. Shaking her head slightly, she put it to her lips again.

Daphne hummed in agreement. "Happy Birthday, Hermione."

She slid a letter addressed to her across the table. "Ginny passed me after breakfast and asked me to deliver this when I saw you."

Hermione took the envelope and opened a muggle made card signed by both Harry and, to her surprise, Ron.

Harry wrote a small note telling her he missed her and that Auror training had some of the most grueling classes he'd ever taken.

Ron had written something similar. "I didn't go back to Hogwarts so I could stay away from school and they put me in a classroom! I just want to play Quidditch!"

She laughed quietly to herself and took another bite of her "breakfast." At least Ron was back to being himself, taking any opportunity to complain about something.

"They're his favourite, you know," Daphne commented quietly.

Hermione put the card aside and ate the rest of the apple with Daphne glancing at her every so often waiting for a response.

"His favourite, huh?" The core vanished.

"Yes, his absolute favourite. They grow in the orchard at Malfoy Manor. We used to pick them when we were playing in the summers..."

Daphne's smile was far away for a moment before she remembered herself and looked down solemnly at her text book.

Hermione touched her hand gently and she snapped her light eyes up.

"Sometimes, memories are the only things we have to remind us that we were really just children once- going on holiday with our parents, playing with friends, picking apples in an orchard. Hold on to those moments, Daphne, you don't want to forget when they're all you have left."

Daphne let out a raspy breath and nodded. "Thank you."

"Of course," Hermione smiled warmly at her.

The blonde closed her eyes for a moment and then gave Hermione a serious look.

"He- he's not so bad; not like he was. He'll never admit it outright, but the events of the last two and a half years have truly affected him. He's had it worse than any of us, and despite all he's been through, he's continuing to pay for it. His life is ruined; no matter who he knows or what his grades are or how much money he has. He was offered up as a lamb for slaughter; I'd suspect that really stays with a person if they live to tell the tale."

"Why are you telling me this?" Hermione's throat suddenly felt dry.

Daphne leaned closer to her, "Because I've known him for a long time and I see things. He doesn't fully understand what he does when he thinks no one is paying attention but, one day he will. Just, establish your boundaries. If you don't want to be any more than classmates or, dare I say, friends, then you need to let him know. Because he's a Malfoy- when he wants something, he'll get it. Even if that means lying in wait."

That made Hermione's spine rigid. "But, he… What is it, exactly, that he wants?"

Daphne gave her that Slytherin grin and shrugged, "I haven't the foggiest idea."

With her mind racing, she sat back and they returned to their work in a comfortable silence; thoughts of a certain blonde boy squashed by the words of the text in front of her. Hermione was grateful to have someone who could enjoy her company without having to speak. It was nice to have another presence with her as she read and wrote notes.

Every once in a while, Daphne would ask her for her opinion and they'd discuss it at length before going back to what they were doing. They worked like that through lunch.

When the clock chimed six, Daphne began to pack up and Hermione was leaning so close to the text in front of her, she threatened to become a part of it.

"Hey, coming to dinner?"

Hermione looked up at Daphne to see her already standing with the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

"Oh, uh, yes, let me just-" she started to clear her things and piled the stack of books she'd found to bring to the book return cart near Madame Pince's desk.

They walked toward the front of the library with light chatter.

"I usually return the books from where I got them before I leave," she explained as she slid them beside the other books on the cart, "but you were nice enough to wait for me to gather my things, I didn't want to make you wait any longer."

"I would have helped you if you asked!"

They made it to the Great Hall just as the food appeared on the tables. They parted ways with smiles and joined their friends.

"You seem to be getting pretty friendly with Greengrass," Ginny commented as soon as she sat down beside her.

For once, she was seated with a full view of the other two tables across the room.

Hermione immediately bristled. "Yes, I like her. I told you about the first day of classes when she-"

"Godric, Hermione, I didn't mean for it to come off as a bad thing! I'm sorry! No, I like her too, she's very sweet."

"I'm sorry I jumped to the defensive, I thought about how house rivalries have always been so deeply rooted within us and-"

Ginny patted her hand. "It's alright, I'm not mad at you for wanting to defend your friendship with someone new. I'm not like those tossers."

She jerked her head in the direction of Dean and Seamus, who were glowering at the Slytherin table. She followed their gaze to see Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott laughing.

"Quidditch shite," Ginny muttered, rolling her eyes.

Hermione laughed. "Will they ever grow up?"

"Bloody unlikely."

They both chuckled.

"Happy Birthday!" Ginny slid her an unwrapped box of sugar quills with a tacky red bow stuck to the top.

"Thank you! I can't wait to eat these!"

They ate the rest of their meal with pleasant chatter between bites. 

Only once did she look up and find herself catching the eyes of Draco Malfoy. It was toward the end of dinner and he gave her a small smile, clearly meant for only her to see, before he bit into a plump looking apple.

She immediately bent her head down so her hair would hang around her shoulders to hide the heat that rushed to her cheeks. Something was happening to her. She could blame not having been with someone for months, but she knew it was deeper than that. 

He was undeniably good looking, though she'd never admit it out loud, especially to Ginny, and he was smart, always being almost tied with her in every class over the years, and she was sure the current year would be no different. He was even acting more like what she thought normal boys her age acted like.

She thought back to the previous Friday, when he'd given her a copy of his time table for them to set times to begin working on their project.

"Let's start tomorrow and we can make a steady schedule," she suggested as they walked out of the classroom.

"I can't do Saturdays unless it's after dinner. Quidditch training with Theo and Blaise, I want to get back on the team since I didn't get to play 6th year or last year. No one to buy me onto the team, you know?" he joked, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing at her.

She realized he did that when he was uncomfortable or nervous.

"Okay, that's no problem. And I won't make you meet me after dinner, I don't want you to fall asleep at the library table after all those drills. How about Sunday then?"

"Not this Sunday. I have a meeting with the Headmistress and I don't know how long it will be."

She huffed and looked at the time table he'd given her. "Alright, we'll figure it out."

"I swear I'm not just making excuses."

She stopped walking at his tone. It wasn't unlike anything she'd ever heard from him. He sounded almost worried.

"I don't think you are," she assured him, boldly touching him on the arm, "I'll get started this weekend, show you what I've come up with after next class, and we can go from there with a schedule that can be adjusted when you make the team."

He raised a brow. "When? Not if?"

She rolled her eyes and laughed. "We both know you'll make the team. You're an excellent Seeker, everyone knows that."

He nodded, slightly dazed, eyes flicking between hers and her hand on his arm.

She pulled back quickly and made her leave without another word.

It seemed that he really was trying to have a regular school year, just like Ginny had assumed. He was proving more and more that he was trying to treat her like a classmate; almost like a friend, like Daphne said he was doing. But, there was something more that Daphne wouldn't say. 

Did she want there to be more? Did he, despite what he'd told her that night in the poetry section?

She couldn't place where in her brain it came from, but a ridiculous idea began to form as she took another peek up at Malfoy. He was talking to Zabini, grinning.

"I'm going to run back to the library," she lied, turning to Ginny and routing around in her bag for good measure, "I put back a book that I actually meant to check out."

"Alright, I'll see you back in the common room then!"

Ginny returned to her dessert and Hermione took her time putting the box of sugar quills in her bag and standing up. As she had hoped, through her peripheral vision she could see Malfoy carefully watching her.

She made her way to the doors and before crossing the threshold, she locked eyes with him purposefully. She waited just outside, behind a statue placed in front of an alcove.

A few moments later, he strolled out, turning in the direction of the library. As he passed, she grabbed his arm and pulled. He staggered back with her, his other arm flailing. Once he got his bearings behind the statue, she let him go and he spun on her.

"What the fuck-"

She raised a brow and he stopped, standing straight and brushing non-existent dust from his shoulders.

He was wearing a thin, soft looking, forest green jumper, black slacks, and dragonhide shoes. She bit her lip as she appraised him; he noticed and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

"Ah. Granger. I was just about to come find you."

"You wouldn't have succeeded," she countered, mirroring his stance.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your assault?"

"I hardly touched you," she laughed, shaking her head and casting her eyes to his shoes as she took a breath to go on, "but I wanted to thank you- for my breakfast, so to speak."

She glanced up at him through her lashes. He was smirking at her.

"Don't mention it, Granger. I didn't see you this morning and I figured you should at least have a nutritional start to your birthday, even if you did spend all day hidden amongst those tomes you love so much."

"How did you know it was my-"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I walked out of the Great Hall with Daph this morning, after Weaslette gave her your mail from the Wonder Twins."

She sighed. "Must you insult my friends?"

He shrugged. "As they say, old habits die hard. And besides, they're just harmless nicknames."

She opened her mouth to tell him names can be powerful and he cut her off.

"But, I'm glad you ate the apple, Granger. I hope it was satisfactory."

She raised her chin and stepped forward to invade his space before she lost her nerve, careful not to brush against him.

What the hell are you doing, Hermione?

Her inner voice drowned out by the sound of her pulse hammering in her ears.

His body tensed at her approach, but his face never changed. He still kept on that same little smile with the left corner of his lips quirked; she suddenly had the urge to make it disappear, to be replaced with something feral. Something that bared his teeth. 

 "It was more than satisfactory," she dropped her vocal register on purpose. "In fact," she made a show of looking up and away as if in thought and raised her hand to tap her pointer finger on her chin, "I don't think I've ever bit into something so sweet."

Watching his pupils dilate and lips split apart sent a thrill through her; she'd gotten what she wanted. He stood straight and made it obvious he was leisurely studying her form and landed his gaze slightly behind her, on what she assumed was what he could see of her backside.

"I can think of something that'd be much sweeter for me to sink my teeth into."

She breathed out a laugh and rolled her eyes at his unabashed flirting; she was sure that's what it was this time. 

"Goodnight, Malfoy," she made sure to brush his arm as she stepped out from their hiding place.

Students were beginning to filter into the corridor for their after dinner plans. 

Only a few paces from the stairs, she could hear Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini behind her.

"Draco, mate, what's wrong with your face?"

"Yeah, you look like your head is about to explode."

Halfway up, she felt his eyes on her and heard his response. 

"Muggle denims should be illegal."

The days passed and before they knew it, Halloween was just a few weeks away. Hermione and Malfoy had set a schedule and met during their shared free periods, after Advanced Arithmancy, and Sunday evenings to work on their project, the first half of which was due before the winter holidays.

Their relationship, for lack of a better term, had transitioned quickly from classmates to almost friends; she had taken Daphne's advice to heart. The person Malfoy was becoming was pleasant to be around, and it made her more intrigued by him.

Malfoy continued to banter and flirt with her when they were alone, in the library or on patrol, just to watch her face turn red for a minute before she shot a retort that made him pinch the backs of her arms playfully. He stopped smoking, would bring apples for her if he noticed she wasn't in the Hall during a meal; they had lively debates while they worked on their project and other class assignments, and they challenged each other constantly. 

A few times before Quidditch tryouts while the weather was still warm, Daphne had been able to drag her along to study outside while he and his friends ran their drills. He always smiled and zoomed right toward them, hovering in front of them to chat before they began. She couldn't help but notice that he kept himself upright with just the strength of his thighs.

Parkinson usually joined them and didn't go out of her way to speak to Hermione; she didn't even really acknowledge her, but she caught the snobby girl's lip quirk a few times when she'd made a sly comment to Daphne.

When she joined the girls in the stands for tryouts, he grinned widely at her and she offered him a small wave.

"I'll be damned," she heard Pansy whisper (they were all on a first name basis by then, but Daphne seemed to be the only one who didn't call her "Granger") but before she could ask what she meant, it started.

When it was over and the captain announced that Malfoy would be Seeker, he flew up to the stands and launched himself at her, causing them both to topple back off the bench, laughing.

The two Slytherin witches shared smiles.

It was odd, too, for other people to see them laughing together. Especially some of her housemates. Ginny encouraged her, though, when they hung out and that was all that really mattered to her. She even popped in on them sometimes in the library to say hello, and to warn Malfoy about her improved Chaser skills.

Sometimes, Daphne would find them during their project sessions and occasionally brought her sister, Astoria, with her.

Astoria Greengrass was two years younger and the polar opposite of her sister, but equally as beautiful; dark, ash brown hair and even darker eyes. She mostly kept to herself or spoke softly to Daphne if she had a question about something she was working on.

Hermione would notice her staring at Malfoy over the top of a book, and quickly look away with a blush to her cheeks when he would move his head, not wanting to be caught if he lifted his gaze.

Something in her chest would tighten when she saw the younger girl flush over Malfoy. She didn't want to claim it as jealousy, considering he never returned the shy glances of the younger Greengrass; he only ever paid attention to her.

His focus on her was intense, sometimes. He would get closer to her than necessary and speak lowly. At first, she assumed it was because he didn't want to disturb the sisters across from them, but then she realized he was even doing it when they were alone. 

She decided it was just how he worked and didn't question it out loud. But one day, she caught a look on Astoria's face after they agreed on an equation pattern that shocked her.

Normally, Astoria was stoic, never letting anything but the tint of her cheeks give away how she felt, but the expression she held was seething anger as she glared at the text in front of her.

Glancing over at Daphne, Hermione furrowed her brow a little; the eldest Greengrass was entirely too smug. She made a mental note to ask her about it.

The chance came the next morning in Ancient Runes. Professor Babbling gave them a pairs worksheet that the two of them completed in about five minutes.

"Much too easy," Daphne whispered, pretending to still fill their sheet in.

"Oh I agree," Hermione laughed quietly, "I'm so glad I have Arithmancy after lunch. I need a good challenge."

"How's your project going by the way? I never want to disturb the two of you when you work- though, I honestly don't think I could even if I tried."

"What do you mean?"

Daphne shrugged. "The two of you are always so focused that you tend to forget you're not alone. Or, at least, Draco does."

Ah, so he was behaving differently toward her than his other friends. She turned her head a bit to see him in his seat behind her, working with Nott on their sheet.

Hermione just waved her hand dismissively. "I'm sure he works like that with others too."

"No, Hermione, just you."

They were quiet for a moment before she spoke again.

"Astoria didn't seem to like it very much yesterday."

Daphne's face lit up with an oddly bright smile before she leaned in a little closer. "Noticed that, did you? She's very jealous."

"Jealous? Of me? What on Earth for? She's gorgeous!"

"While she may be a beauty, it would appear that the beholder has eyes for someone else."

Hermione narrowed her gaze. "Don't speak to me in riddles, we're not Ravenclaws."

Daphne sighed at her, "But we could have been. Bloody hat."

She laughed at that, covering her mouth when she got the attention of a few of the students surrounding them, including Malfoy.

When everyone went back to the assignment, Daphne continued. "Draco and Astoria had a marriage contract drawn up last year, in the middle of everything. My father wanted her, and us in turn, to be in a good place if You-Know-Who actually won. When the war ended, and the Malfoys disappeared into hiding, the contract was destroyed when the Aurors burst in to take Mr. Malfoy and Draco to Azkaban. It was never signed. She was holding on to a sliver of hope that maybe he would be interested in her without a contract, but that was torn to shreds. As of yesterday."

Hermione shook her head. "She's wrong, we're just friends-"

Daphne made a surprisingly undignified snort. "I hear the kinds of things he says to you before I approach the table; he doesn't just speak like that to a girl unless he's interested. He used to do it to Pansy."

She remembered how he was in Fourth and Fifth year- always speaking close to her, saying flirty things, pinching her playfully, making her laugh.

"Wha- he- oh my. It would seem I've been ignoring the obvious."

"I'll say, " Daphne muttered, looking at the doodle she was starting to make.

"I thought I was seeing things based on my own interests-"

She realized she'd said too much when Daphne snapped her head up.

"What I mean to say-"

"Oh, no, Hermione, I think you said exactly what you meant." 

Her face felt hot, but despite all the information, she was still having trouble believing that Malfoy would even be remotely interested in her when a girl like Astoria was available. She was everything his parents could ever dream of for him.

"Regardless of how I feel, I think he's just being friendly."

Daphne exhaled loudly. "You know, for someone so incredibly smart, you are being very dense."

Finally, the class ended and the girls packed their things.

Malfoy sauntered over with Nott and he leaned against Hermione's side of the desk. "And just what were you two whispering about?" 

She could see the playfulness in his eyes. "Just discussing how far behind me you are in class since the last pop quiz; we only whispered to let you keep the bit of dignity you have left." 

She flipped her hair over her shoulder as she stood, settling her bag strap and grinning at him; Daphne giggled and even Nott smiled.

Malfoy reached out and pinched the back of her arm teasingly, which made Daphne shoot her a knowing look and she couldn't stop her cheeks from coloring.

"See you soon, Granger," Malfoy called as he and Nott walked ahead of them out of the classroom.

"I have an idea about how you can prove Draco's obvious attraction to you."

Hermione squeezed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "Daphne, I told you-"

"Indulge me." Daphne gave her a pouty face.

"Fine."

"I know a way that will drive him to insanity-"

"Oh, Godric, that could take all term-"

"Hermione, no, just listen to me. You can push him to a breaking point in just a week."

"What? That's impossible! And I swore to myself that I'd never do magic on the mind-"

"Good Gods, no. All you have to do is raise your skirt hem."

She said it so simply and so casually that Hermione skidded to a halt by the Great Hall doors. "What do you mean?"

Daphne gave her a sly smile, since she had her attention. "We did this in Sixth year all the time when we wanted a boy to make a move. It's very simple. You just have to raise your skirt hem an inch for a few days."

"Oh. Well that is not a very elaborate plan. It's the hem of a skirt, how would you even be sure he's paying that close attention to you?"

"Men are very simple creatures, Hermione. I assure you. When is the next time you and Draco have rounds?"

"Next Friday, why?"

"Perfect! Starting Monday, raise your skirt hem an inch every other day. And do whatever you can to subtly draw attention to your legs when he's near- cross them and uncross them, bend over a little to make it look like you're rubbing a scuff out of your shoe- anything to make him look down. Then, right before you meet him for patrol Friday night, you raise it three more inches-"

"Three inches?!-"

"-and I promise you, his resolve will crumble away and he'll tell you how he actually feels about your company."

"I don't know, Daphne, three inches is a lot at one time, it will be nearly six inches above regulation length by then-"

"Hermione, it'll be worth the possible loss of House Points. I promise. And besides," they stepped into the crowded room, "no one will say anything to the Golden Girl."

She cringed at the nickname and Daphne patted her shoulder before she made her way to the Slytherin table. 

Would it really be that easy? It would be nice to know how he sees me, considering the more time I spend with him, the more I feel like he's someone I could possibly-

She tried to shake those thoughts away. They could never be anything more than friends. His parents would kill her; her friends would kill him.

Ginny tilted her head as Hermione approached the table seemingly deep in thought. "I can hear your mind going."

"Sorry, sorry, it's just," she leaned closer to Ginny, keeping her voice low while she began putting food on her plate, "Daphne is trying to get me to do this silly thing that will prove to me that Malfoy has an interest me other than friendship-"

"Which he does-"

Hermione glowered and Ginny nudged her playfully. "What is the 'silly thing' she told you to do?"

"She told me to raise my skirt hem an inch for-"

"Ooo, I know that trick! If she didn't tell you, make sure to wear stockings instead of tights when you do it, so he can see skin," she advised, wiggling her eyebrows.

"What?"

Ginny snorted. "It couldn't hurt, Hermione. If he doesn't notice, then he really is just being friendly. If he does, well," she smirked as she stabbed her fork into a piece of chicken, "you'll have some things to figure out." 

She gave a wink before tucking in and Hermione stared at her dinner for several minutes.

What could possibly become of this?

The following Friday, Hermione found herself tugging at her skirt as she walked down the stairs for patrol.

I can't believe I'm going through with this.

She also couldn't believe that she actually went through every pair of stockings she had and spent her week willingly breaking uniform regulations. Her skirt was exactly 6 inches shorter than it had been when the week began, like she'd said when Daphne first brought up the "test".

Why did I ever agree to this?

She thought about the events of the week-

After breakfast and some encouragement from both Daphne and Ginny on Monday morning, she ran into the bathroom before her first class and raised her skirt the first inch with her wand. She didn't see Malfoy until her free period before lunch and she made sure to arrive after he would be at their table.

She rounded a bookcase and got his attention by apologizing for her "tardiness". He just waved her off from behind his book before actually looking at her, and when his gaze fell over the text and onto her as she draped her school robes over an empty chair, he squinted a bit.

Tuesday, during their project sessions and shared classes, he continued their usual playful banter and gave no signs that he truly noticed something was different.

On Wednesday, she raised the hem the next inch before she went down to breakfast. Later, in Ancient Runes, Daphne was in Hermione's usual seat. 

"Change of scenery today," she teased, motioning for her to sit down.

She knew it was because Malfoy would be able to see her better from there, but she rolled her eyes.

He made a comment when he spotted them.

"What's this then?" he wondered, stopping to stand in front of their desk.

Hermione leaned back in her seat, making sure her school robe was open. "I just wanted to see if I'm still better than you from this angle." 

Slowly, she crossed her legs; her right over her left so it could dangle away from Daphne and in his sight.

He stared for a moment, not hiding how he followed the slope of her shin to her knee, and where her skirt rested on her thigh.

Theo bumped him and he seemed to remember himself. "We shall see then, Granger. We shall see."

Only once during class did she attempt to draw his attention to her. She scooted her chair back just a little, slid her left leg into the aisle, and then leaned down to pretend to scratch the front her ankle. 

She could feel her skirt ride up behind her thigh and as she began to straighten, she heard a chair behind her scrape just a fraction against the floor. With a glance over her shoulder, she found him sitting up straighter and closer to his desk than he had been before.

He didn't act any different than usual during Arithmancy, but she did notice him look down between them on occasion with an ever so slightly furrowed brow; like he was trying to figure something out.

Hmm. Interesting.

During their project session after class, she made sure she shed her robe and stood periodically with a book in her hands, pacing while she read.

Thursday was much the same as Wednesday; calculating stares in between their usual playfulness while they were in class or working on their project.

Friday morning, she raised the next inch and carried her robe folded over her forearm as she walked down to breakfast. He was leaning beside Theo against the wall by the doors to the Hall, as they both watched Blaise shamelessly flirt with a Seventh Year Ravenclaw.

When their eyes met, he nodded.

"Morning, Malfoy. Theo," she chirped as she passed by them and into the room, swinging her hips, only once each side, purposefully.

"Mate, what are you looking for?" she heard Theo ask.

She grinned broadly. 

Now, it was her and Malfoy's night to patrol.

This is so ridiculous, she chided silently as she rounded a corner to the main staircase, feeling the hem brush high on the backs of her thighs.

There's no way he noticed. It's only been three inches in five days. No boy would pay that close attention to a girl, no matter how much he likes her. But he'll definitely notice now, because it's six whole inches above regulation!

Her feet stomped a bit as she walked.

How do girls even enjoy walking around like this, knowing if they bend the wrong way they'll flash everyone their knickers?

She grumbled about having decided not to take her robes while she waited for him at the bottom of the stairs outside the Great Hall. She tugged a little at her skirt again, but stopped when she saw him emerge from the direction of the dungeons.

When he got closer, she made a show of brushing non-existent lint from it. He greeted her kindly and gestured for her to lead the way for their rounds.

He made a quiet, strangled sound from behind her. If she hadn't been listening for something, anything, she would have certainly missed it.

When they reached the landing, the tables turned- He grabbed her shoulders, pressed her back into the closest wall, and leaned down to be at her eye level.

"What-"

"Are you trying to drive me mad? Because, I'm on the brink, Granger."

"What in the seven hells are you on about?"

He moved his head back a little. "I- You-," his inhale was slow and steady before getting back in her face, "Your skirt is at least three inches shorter than it was earlier today," he growled. 

She arched a brow at him, fighting a smile. "How would you know, Malfoy?"

His body stiffened, but his facial expression never changed from the menacing glare.

"Hmm," she hummed in mock thought, "the only way you'd know that was if you've been staring at my skirts lately."

Something in his eyes flashed, but he said nothing.

She dropped her voice to a whisper, "Have you been staring at my skirts, Draco?"

His face finally changed into something that could only be described as hungry. 

"No, Granger, but I have been staring at your legs for quite some time, so you'll have to forgive me for noticing that I've been seeing more and more of them as this week has progressed, and now, I can almost see the curve of your arse when you walk ahead of me up the stairs."

She mustered a smirk that rivaled his own and he surged forward, pressing a hard kiss to her mouth that took her no less than a second to return.

His body crushed hers into the stone at her back and his hands slid from her shoulders to her hips.

Her fingers bunched his Oxford shirt in an effort to pull him even closer and she felt a little smile against her mouth.

They broke apart gasping; he rested his forehead against hers.

"Granger," he rasped, trying and failing to keep his composure, "we need to do our job. A-and then, maybe-"

She could tell he was unsure of what to make of the heated moment, so she made her intentions clear and boldly took one of his hands and guided it down from her hip to her backside, over her ridiculous short skirt.

"Merlin," it came out as a whine and he gave the covered cheek under his palm a light squeeze.

Hermione choked back a moan; his hand held more than half of it.

He made a feeble attempt to clear his throat. "Ah, so, we'll finish patrol and then definitely revisit this."

She laughed and playfully shoved him back. He swatted at her arse.

They walked in mostly silence, occasionally drifting and bumping their shoulders into each other. When they walked up stairs, he flicked at her skirt hem behind her and she smacked his hands away, smiling.

Finally, they got to the seventh floor. The moment they checked the final alcove behind a tapestry for students, he pulled her into it.

“So, should we kiss first and talk later?” he teased, but his hand rubbed steadily at the back of his neck.

He was nervous.

“We can talk first. I’ll start, I guess. Over the last few weeks, I’ve discovered an attraction to you-”

His hand slipped from his neck to hang at his side. “Do you always make conversations like this sound so clinical, or is that for my benefit?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m just trying to say it so you don't misunderstand me.”

“Just say what you mean then. Do you want to date me or just have me toss you over the library table while we work?”

“Draco, that’s-”

“A grand idea, if I do say so myself-”

“Oh, for the love of Morgana, I LIKE YOU, YOU GIT!”

Her chest was heaving and he was momentarily shocked.

“I didn’t think that would actually work,” he mused.

She scoffed and crossed her arms. “Since when do you assume annoying me won’t grant you an outburst?”

He crowds her. “So, you don’t want to just shag then?”

Hermione bit her lip at the prospect of sex with him, but she was honest. “No.”

His sigh of what sounded like relief tickled her face. He looks at the floor.

“I’m not a nice boy, Granger,” he confesses.

She cups his chin and his eyes bore into hers. “No, you’re not. But you’re not evil either. You’ve grown, anyone can see that.”

“I appreciate that.”

They’re quiet for a few breaths, just staring at each other. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to watching how fast emotions swim in his eyes.

He blinked twice before clearing his throat.

"Now, Granger," he purred, eyes glittering in the low light from the corridor, "where were we?"

She surprised him by jumping and wrapping her legs around his waist. He hurried to catch her and stumbled back into the wall. Her lips found his immediately and he surged them forward to use the opposite wall to help keep her up. His fingers tapped the hem of her skirt on her thigh- a silent request that she found herself nodding to.

When he slipped his hands under her skirt to grip her arse and found bare skin, she felt, more so than heard, the growl that erupted from deep in his chest.

"Are you not wearing knickers, Granger?"

He was breathless and it emboldened her. She gave him a chaste kiss and pulled away to meet his eyes.

"Why don't you find out?"

The challenge was clear.

"Granger, you don't know what you're getting into," he warned, “I won’t be gentle or kind.”

She scoffed. "Didn’t expect you to be. And I'm not afraid of you, Malfoy."

Before she realized what was happening, her feet were on the ground, her back still against the wall, but his hand was at the back of her head buried in the curls at the nape of her neck. He yanked her forward, tilted her head back slightly to tower himself over her, and brushed his lips on hers.

"You should be," he whispered.

The kiss that followed was bruising. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and moaned loudly.

With his hand still in her hair, he backed her into the wall. He pushed his knee between her thighs and she gasped- her head was spinning, her body was alight with desire, and she was lost in him. His other hand rested on her hip for a moment before sliding under her skirt to squeeze her bare cheek.

He pulled back, and she tried to follow his mouth but he kept her in place with the fist in her curls.

"Should I see what's under your skirt, Granger?"

He moved his leg and pressed his thigh hard against her center and she ground into it, unashamedly.

"Such a needy girl you are," he mused, "rubbing yourself on me like that. Tell me, if I take my leg away, will I find a mess on my trousers?"

Gods, his mouth. She'd never been spoken to like that before and she loved it. Who'd have thought?

He moved his hand from her bum and held her still by her hip, squeezing hard.

"I asked you a question, Princess."

Of course he'd make such a mocking nickname sound like sin.

"Yes," she breathed, whimpering as she tried to move against him, but he didn't let her.

He let go of her. "Don't move. I'm going to find out for myself what’s going on under your skirt."

His leg disappeared and was replaced with his lightly calloused fingertips, sliding up the inside of her thigh so slowly that she thought she'd combust.

Finally, finally, he touched her apex and didn't hide the surprise on his face when he was met with lace. He took one finger and slid it down, between the outside of her lower lips and followed the string back as far as he could to between her arse cheeks.

She couldn't stop the yelp from slipping from her mouth when he plucked the string and let it snap back into place.

"Well, well. I was not expecting you to own a thong, Granger."

He touched her over the lace again, grinning at the dampness he found there. She watched as he glanced down at his leg; a small dark patch was where she'd been.

"I cannot begin to tell you how badly I want to rip these knickers off you and take you right here," he confessed, sliding the material to the side and rubbing his finger between her folds.

"So why don't you?" she breathed out, desperate for him to touch her where she ached.

"Because," he took his hand away and spun her to face the wall; the hand that had been in her hair was on her hip, bunching her skirt up while the other traveled over her other side, back to her center, "the first time I put this," he rubbed his erection between her exposed cheeks for emphasis, "inside you, it will be in my bed after I eat your cunt."

She whined, unable to find words to say for once as she put both her hands on the wall in front of her to prevent her face from falling into it.

"Don't worry, I'll let you come tonight. After all, you went through that trouble with your skirt for me."

Without warning, he slid two fingers into her and ground the heel of his hand against her clit.

She hissed at the intrusion, but sighed in relief at the pressure he put against her.

"Gods you're tight. But so, so wet, Granger. I can hear you, smell you.” His voice lowered to an octave she’d never heard, “Come on my fingers so I can taste you."

She was definitely close; his lips suckling at her throat told her he knew it too.

"That's it, I can feel you squeezing around me. Let go," he began moving his fingers in harder, "Give me what I want."

A little more pressure to her clit and a curl of his fingers to press a spot that only she usually brushed, her whole body shook with the force of her orgasm.

She jumped at the feeling of liquid leaking over his hand and down her thighs.

When she looked over her shoulder at him, he was staring down, surprised too.  But when he met her eyes, his expression turned wolfish.

"Good girl."

She shuddered before stuttering, "I- I've never done that before. I mean, I've had an orgasm before, obviously but I-"

She stopped when he pulled out his fingers and stuck them right into his mouth, stepping back to give her room to turn away from the wall.

"You're delicious, Granger. I can't wait to drink from the source." He then proceeded to lick the rest of her off of his hand.

"You're depraved," she groaned, slumping against the stones.

"And you like it, so what does that say about you?"

He sauntered into her space and touched his forehead to hers. 

She laughed lightly, "That I'm also depraved?"

"No, not depraved," he tsked, tucking a curl behind her ear; she could smell herself on his hand.

"Then what?"

"Mine."

Ginny was up waiting for her.

"Why am I not surprised that you're still awake?" Hermione teased, immediately beginning to get ready for bed.

"Well? Did it work? Did he notice?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed nonchalantly, tying her pajama pants.

"And?"

Hermione glanced up to see her friend practically vibrating with excitement.

She slid into her bed and drew the curtains around except for the side that would block Ginny.

"I don't kiss and tell, Ginerva."

She shut the curtain quickly.

"I knew it! told you, Hermione!"

Ginny was still squealing when her eyes were getting heavy; she allowed sleep to take her.

After their tryst in the alcove, they acted like nothing was different between them in front of their friends. They were enjoying the newness of a budding romance. Though Daphne seemed suspicious, Ginny was too busy pestering her about a costume for the Hallows' Eve Ball McGonagall instructed the Prefects to organize to notice.

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe I don't want to dress up?" Hermione grumbled as she turned the page of her text.

Ginny huffed and slid beside her into Draco's usual chair at the library table.

He was late.

"But what about Malfoy?"

Hermione quirked her brow. "What about Malfoy?"

"Yes," came a drawl, "what about me, Weasley?"

Draco rounded the corner with a flourish and stood beside Ginny. He set down the books he was carrying on the empty table space in front of her and leaned in.

"You're in my seat, Red," he scolded playfully, smirking for good measure.

Ginny rolled her eyes at him as she shoved him away with a laugh and started to stand.

"You only want to sit here so you can stare at her when you think no one is looking."

"Ginerva," Hermione hissed, causing them both to lose their smirks.

"Looks like you're the one in trouble this time, Red," he teased, taking the spot she'd vacated and draping his arm across the back of Hermione's chair.

Ginny waved him off. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just convince her to pick a bloody costume for the ball."

He raised a brow at her. "Have you considered that perhaps Granger doesn't want to dress up?"

Hermione didn't look up and smirked at her book.

"Ugh. You two are disgustingly perfect for each other," Ginny grumbled as she stomped away.

"She's right," he whispered, closer to her than he needed to be.

"Hmm, is she now?"

"Yes," he growled, boldly pressing his lips to the spot just under her ear. 

"Draco," she grew stiff, "not here, please. I'm-"

She slapped her hand over her mouth as he began to suck lightly along her neck.

"I will take you anywhere I please, Princess."

She knew he felt the shiver run through her body.

"Draco."

He used the arm draped over her chair to scoot it closer to his and moved his lips to her jaw. 

"What if I took you right here? Bent you over this table, over your precious books and notes? We'd crinkle all these pages, Granger."

"Gods," she sighed as his other hand slid up her thigh under her skirt. His finger pressed between her legs over her knickers and he smirked at the feel of the dampness he found there.

Her breathing grew heavy as he rubbed small circles over her 

And then he was gone- turned front in his chair, opening up his books and taking out parchment.

"You're evil," she hissed.

"You'll get to come today, Granger," he promised with a wink, "just not right now. We have work to do."

She didn't want to do work. She wanted him to throw her on the table top and put his face between her thighs.

Hermione sat up straight at the thought and he noticed.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

She looked at him, but didn't know how to answer. She was surprised at herself for even having those kinds of thoughts. But now, she was thinking of payback. 

The night behind the tapestry she understood- the tension broke. But since then, there were secret touches here and there, quick orgasms for her in broom cupboards and alcoves, and then he refused to let her at least attempt to return the favour. He'd say it was a pleasure to give her pleasure and be off with a wink. If he was going to keep driving her to the brink of madness and then make her focus on schoolwork, then she deserved to make some madness of her own. 

"Nothing is wrong," she said with a smile, "I've just decided that I will dress up for the ball."

"Oh?"

She knew her smile was wicked and his brow furrowed.

"Yes."

"Hermione, you look incredible." 

She met Ginny's eyes in the mirror and grinned. "Why, thank you! Those sewing charms from your mum came in hand! I really didn't have to do any cutting!"

She wiped a smudge of clear gloss from under her lip and then did a little twirl for her friend before starting on getting her hair under control.

"It came out perfect, truly! Any reason why you chose this costume?"

Hermione was stoic as she picked up the sparkling silver crown from the vanity and placed it on her head. She used her wand to fit it to her perfectly so she didn't need to use pins to keep it from falling.

"Just a private joke."

She stepped away from the vanity and gave Ginny a full view. Hermione, ever the pack rat, still had her gown from the Yule Ball. With a few transfiguration and sewing charms, she was able to adjust the sizing and turn it into a puffy dress that reached just above her knees. The sleeves were off the shoulder with puffed caps and came to points at the backs of her hands.

She wore glittering, strappy silver shoes adorned with little butterflies that were charmed to flap their wings occasionally. Her hair was in perfect ringlets and pulled back away from her face at the sides; minimal sparkly shadow, mascara, and lip gloss was the only makeup she applied and the crown tied the whole thing together, making it very obvious what she was supposed to be.

"Stunning. Absolutely stunning."

"You know, you gave me all that trouble about picking a costume and yet, you just dressed yourself in your Quidditch kit. That's cheating," Hermione teased as she looped her arm through Ginny's and they made their way to the common room.

"I'm not a Gryffindor Chaser tonight though," she defended as they stepped through the portrait hole, "Tonight, I am Chaser and Captain of the Holyhead Harpies. Completely different team, so it counts."

Hermione rolled her eyes and then smiled. They entered the Great Hall to the sound of live music. The dance seemed to be in full swing already. Students in costumes were dancing in front of the band, which was set up where the staff table usually sat and the house tables had been lined against the walls to serve as buffets for food and drink.

The girls marveled at how the room looked now that candles were lit and the sun had set. The Prefects worked hard in decorating all afternoon once classes had finished. 

"Still not telling me who you'll be tonight?" Draco teased as he held the ladder to keep her balanced. She insisted on hanging faux cobwebs the muggle way.

"I promise, you'll know exactly who I am the moment you see me."

"Fine," he grumbled.

She scanned the hall in search of him. He was in the back corner of the room to her immediate left with his friends. She made her way to them with Ginny in tow.

Theo and Blaise were dressed in black dragonhide outfits with matching gloves and had drawn what appeared to be cuts and scars on their faces and necks. 

Pansy wore a long, spaghetti strapped gown that was such a deep plum shade that it looked almost black; it fit like it had been painted onto her body and was paired with a small headpiece that had a short black veil attached, black satin elbow length gloves, and a giant diamond ring on her left hand.

Daphne was stunning in a shimmering iridescent dress that reached just below her knees and large wings attached to her back that were charmed to flutter every few minutes.

She couldn't make out Draco's costume- he was standing behind Blaise with his back to the group, deep in conversation with Theo who stood slightly to his right.

"Dragon tamer," she commented to Blaise upon her arrival, "very creative."

He flashed her a cocky grin, "No more creative than you two, your Majesty." He mockingly swept into a low bow and Pansy snorted at him.

Hermione laughed. "Just 'your Highness' is fine, I'm only a princess."

Her eyes found Draco's over his shoulder then, he'd perked up at the word. He and Theo ended their conversation and moved to join the group.

She pointedly ignored the way he ran his gaze up and down her form.

"Daph, you make an absolutely beautiful fairy," she gushed, with Ginny nodding furiously in agreement.

"What are you, Parkinson?" Ginny tilted her head to the side in assessment.

Theo draped his arm around Pansy's bare shoulders, "She's Blaise's mum," he cackled.

Pansy shook him off and Blaise punched him in the shoulder while Daphne smacked his other side.

"I'm a widow," she snapped at Theo, "A Black Widow, actually."

Ginny stared at her in awe. "Parkinson, you've just made me like you a whole lot more."

Pansy said nothing, but a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she nodded in Ginny's direction.

Draco pushed his way through his friends and Ginny as they all began to chatter. He was wearing beautiful dress robes made of the blackest material she'd ever seen.

"And what are you supposed to be, Mister Malfoy?'

He boldly thumbed the hem of her dress, staring at the material. "Well, it all depended on you, really."

"Oh? How so?"

"Well, if you'd been something I couldn't match, I'd be a Reaper." He flipped up the hood of his outer robe with a wink before letting it fall back.

She rolled her eyes. "How very Malfoy of you."

He looked at her with a smile. "However, since you've decided to be royalty," he let go of her dress to pull off his signet ring.

Hermione watched, entranced, as he transfigured the ring into a large pewter crown with tall points all the way 'round; his family crest centered in the front. He placed it on his head and then held out his hand to her.

"Care to dance with a lonely, dark king, Granger?"

From her peripheral, she could see their friends watching.

"Oh, Draco," she chided softly as she laid her hand in his, "you're not alone anymore."

She couldn't catch her breath at the pace emotions were flashing across his face. In the end, he gave a quiet growl and pulled her into his body.

"Your intentions with this costume choice have not gone unnoticed, Princess."

It was her turn to smirk as she looked up and batted her eyelashes. "Good, I was counting on it." 

He pressed her back into the wall they were near and leaned his head to her ear. "How long must I endure this torture?"

She ran her hand up his chest and then back down, dangerously low, brushing the line of the waistband of his slacks.

"Until the clock strikes the last chime of midnight."

He groaned and touched his forehead to hers; his eyes were closed. "As you wish, your Highness."

They stayed by their friends and swayed to the music.

After a while, the girls all broke away to dance closer to the band while the boys remained by the wall, watching. 

Draco couldn't stop staring at the way Hermione moved and how she tossed her head back to laugh. 

At one point, they were trying to get Pansy to mimic some ridiculous made up dance and they all cheered when she gave them a little shimmy.

Hermione made sure he knew she was aware he was watching and when she finally caught his gaze over Daphne's shoulder, his eyes were blazing with desire and longing, with a dash of impatience.

Well well, she laughed silently, revenge is sweet.

Before she realized, the band announced that they would be playing their final song- it was almost midnight.

She’d been standing by the refreshments table with the girls when Draco appeared suddenly and wordlessly whisked her away. 

With a glance back, she saw the knowing grins on Ginny and Daphne’s faces and Pansy let her lips slide into a smirk.

Once on the edge of the other couples dancing, he bent to whisper to her.

“The clock is ticking, Princess. Midnight is almost here.”

The pitch of his voice was low and menacing and it took everything in her not to shiver.

“And what will you do with me then, your Majesty?”

He straightened to his full height and spun her around gracefully before leading her into a waltz to the outskirts of the room. He moved them until they were at doors of the hall. He pressed her into the space beside the open door, out of sight. 

His hands grasped her waist, backing her into the wall. “Whatever I want.”

She gasped as he kissed her searingly. Just then, the first stroke of midnight echoed around them.

One.

Draco pulled away and smiled devilishly. He truly did look like a dark king- regal, domineering, and forbidden.

“Follow me, your Highness.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and couldn’t help the light laugh that escaped her when he pulled her out of the hall and in the direction of the dungeons.

Two.

“Taking me to the snakes’ den,” she teased.

“No, to my room.”

Three.

He had her back against the stones by the top of the stairs with another bruising kiss.

Four.

He resumed leading her down into the dungeons.

Five.

They passed the potions classroom and portrait to the Hufflepuff dorms.

Six.

They turned down a dark hall; torches roared to life as they walked by.

Seven.

He stopped in front of a blank expanse of stone and he kissed her again.

Eight.

“Damnatus,” he whispered against her lips.

She snorted and felt the wall begin to open behind her back- he pulled her into his chest to keep her from falling.

Nine.

He led her through the common room and down another set of stairs so quickly that she didn’t get the chance to look around.

Ten.

They walked down a hallway lined with black doors until they reached the very last on the left.

Eleven.

He pressed his hand to the wood and she heard a click of a lock releasing.

Twelve.

“Times up,” he warned, pushing down the handle and taking her with him over the threshold.

Draco's room was exactly what she expected it to be. The furniture was made of dark wood- a bed big enough for three people was in the middle of the furthest wall across from the door with a nightstand on either side, a small personal desk and dresser were to the left, and a decent sized bookcase and armoire were to the right. Personal items like photos and trinkets were neatly placed about the room.

He scooped her up, cradling her against his chest as he kicked the door closed and the lock magically slid back into place.

The second her back hit the plush surface, he was on her, gently nibbling at her neck and sliding his hands down the bodice of her dress.

"This fucking colour," he growled against her skin, fisting the fabric of her skirt, "I remember that dress like you wore it yesterday."

She gasped and arched up as he bit a little harder at the curve of her throat.

"You looked so beautiful that night all those years ago- I couldn't stop staring and Pansy wanted to throttle me," he continued, pulling away from her and sitting back, "Did you think I wouldn't remember it?"

"You're so beautiful all the time." He says it so softly that she would have missed it if she hadn't been staring at him.

She watched him as he gave her a long once over, as if he were memorizing every detail of how she looked right then.

Hermione felt her face heat at his intensity. When his eyes finally met hers, she shivered.

"How did you find a dress the same exact colour?" he mused, sliding the material of her skirt between two fingers.

"I didn't," she confessed.

When his brow furrowed, she sat up and reached for the hand at her hem and brought it to just under her bust.

She guided him down to her waist, then her hip, and leaned further to brush her lips to his. "This is the dress, Draco."

It was his turn for his body to shake with a chill.

"Granger, you mean to tell me that this is your Yule Ball dress?"

She smiled. "Yes, just modified for my current age and the occasion."

Hermione blinked and she was on her back again, the weight of him pressed to her chest as he fit himself against her.

"Remember our first potions class this year? You said you'd never do anything like this with me."

He ground himself into her centre, making her whine loudly.

"Well, Granger, I'm going to fuck you tonight." 

He said it so harshly, almost like a threat, and she couldn't stop herself from feeling thrilled by it.

And then his body was gone, further down the bed but still between her legs.

"But first, I'm going to devour you under this skirt until it's ruined, so you remember that it was me, not Krum or fucking Weasley, who made you cum in this dress."

He flipped up the front of her skirt so fast, she didn't have time to brace herself.

“No knickers? Oh, Granger, you’re full of surprises.”

That was her only warning before he dove in with a long, agonizing lick. Her body lifted at the feeling and he used his hands to keep her hips down.

Soft moans and grunts flew from his mouth between his feasting.

“So good."

"Knew you’d taste like heaven.”

“Look at this pretty mess you’re making.”

She couldn’t recall anything that looked as attractive as Draco did in that moment, going down on her with a crown on his head. 

When he added two of his thick fingers she cried out- he curved them and pressed, looking for that spot. His tongue returned to her clit and flicked. Her walls contracted and he sucked it between his lips.

She came hard, gushing onto his hand and the part of her skirt that rested under her bum.

“Again?!” she shrieked, sitting up and scrambling back a little.

Draco chuckled before making a show of cleaning her from his fingers. “You don’t know how proud it makes me when you do that.”

Hermione felt her cheeks getting hot.

“Don’t get all shy on me now, Granger,” he teased.

She glared at him, then got to her knees and whispered an incantation for the zipper nestled in the faux corset of her gown to slide down. The top of her dress fell away as she pulled her arms from the selves.

He sucked in a breath and she smirked- she wore no bra.

“You had nothing on for the entire evening?”

She nodded and shimmied the dress the rest of the way down and tried as gracefully as she could to get out of it without falling off the bed.

When she went to take off her crown, he let out a low growl. "Do not remove that until after you've come on my cock."

She grinned and just muttered a small, wandless cushioning charm so it would stay comfortably.

He reached for her and she smacked his hands away.

“You’re entirely too clothed,” her voice was purposely prim and he huffed in response.

He moved off the bed and she followed to the edge on her knees, watching as he stripped. 

When he was just in his briefs, she finally gave him a full once over. He was lean with beautifully toned muscles and a defined abdomen and slight Adonis belt. His thighs were dense and thick. 

Broom thighs.

“Like what you see, Granger?”

“I do,” she admitted without hesitation.

Draco had that predatory look again. “Lay on your stomach facing me,” he growled, moving closer and hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear.

His cock bobbed slightly after it was released. Without meaning to, she compared it to Ron’s. It was certainly almost as thick, but it was definitely a bit longer.

She followed his directions and he came to the edge of the bed to meet her. He cradled her jaw gently before pushing his thumb between her lips. She sucked hard, then opened her mouth and pressed her tongue flat against it.

His breath hitched. “Oh, you’ll be the death of me."

He pulled his hand away and put the tip of his cock on her waiting tongue.

Hermione didn’t particularly like performing oral sex the few times Ron had expressed he wanted it. He never let her set her own pace, always shoving himself to the back of her throat before she could get a rhythm going and losing himself in pleasure. 

Draco was a completely different type of partner. He ran his fingers through her hair at the back of her head softly and watched her with rapt attention. Any time she glanced up at his face, he would let out a little gasp.

When she was used to his size, she dared to lean forward a bit to take more of him.

“You’re perfect, Granger. Such a good girl. Can you take a little more? You’ve almost swallowed me whole.”

His voice was raspy and she breathed carefully through her nose as she flattened her tongue as much, relaxed, and moved forward until her nose bumped his skin.

He groaned loudly and she went to pull back and his grip in her hair tightened.

“Can you stay there? Let me-” He was begging and she knew what he was trying to ask. 

She gripped the back of one of his thighs and squeezed, looking up at him hoping he understood what she was trying to communicate.

He began to move his hips slowly, the effort to control himself evident in his expression. She just kept breathing and watched his face, her eyes beginning to water. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, “look at you.” 

The hand not in her hair moved to cup her face, wiping away an errant tear. She moaned around him and after a few more thrusts, he pulled himself completely away.

“Bloody hell,” he murmured, looking at her in awe.

She chuckled and wiped at her mouth, sitting herself up on her knees.

Draco surged forward; hitting the bed and grabbing her neck with a gentle pressure as he slotted his lips against hers.

“I’m going to come down your pretty little throat the next time I get the chance, Princess,” he promised, squeezing slightly to show he was serious.

He guided her to lay on her back and he followed, putting himself between her legs and hovering his chest above hers. He rubbed the head of his cock against her slit, letting out a strangled sound when he realized she was still wet.

“So wet for me,” he marveled, and then slammed into her to the hilt without any warning.

“Fuck!” she screamed, gripping his biceps tightly.

His pace was relentless; everything he’d been holding back over the last few weeks was flooding out in the snap of his hips.

 He fell onto his forearms, touching his forehead to hers. She gazed into his eyes as he whispered praises.

“I knew you'd have the perfect cunt.”

“You’re so bloody beautiful.”

“You feel so good, squeezing my cock like this.”

Her back arched and she felt herself on the precipice, obscene noises pouring from her mouth.

Draco buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Gonna make you gush again, Granger, I need to feel it this way.”

“No,” she half moaned, half sobbed, “I can’t do that again!”

“You can,” he told her, kissing her pulse point, “and you will.”

He lifted his body up, slid a hand between them, rubbed furiously at her clit while he angled his hips to get that spot he knew would make her flood over him. 

It was just what she needed to fall over the edge and he kept thrusting, hitting her front wall, causing her to explode so quickly after her first orgasm, making an absolute mess.

“Draco!”

“Fucking Hell, yes, Hermione,” he roared, slamming into her hard as he released in her.

The look of shock on her face was so satisfying for him, it made his cock twitch a little. Feeling it, she smacked at his chest before laughing and he kissed her soundly.

Breathless, he fell to the left to lay beside her.

“I knew sex was supposed to feel like that,” she whispered to herself.

He snickered. “Wait until next time, Granger.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and stood from the bed, stretching as she removed her head ware and placed it on his nightstand. 

With the tap of his finger to the crest, his regal crown once again became his ring. He slipped it safely onto his thumb.

She looked over her shoulder to see him just watching her, roaming his gaze all over her bare skin.

“Like what you see, Malfoy?” she mocked, smirking.

“I do. Give me about twenty minutes and I’ll show you exactly what.”

She threw her head back with laughter and he reached over to yank her back onto the mattress, holding himself above her again.

“I need to tell you something, Granger.”

He still wore a teasing smile, but his eyes were flicking back and forth between hers with a bit of uncertainty.

She placed a hand on his cheek encouragingly.

A harsh breath escaped him, but he didn't look away from her. “It hasn't been long, but I am falling hard for you, Hermione Jean- harder than hitting the pitch after a bludger to the gut.”

Of all the things she’d thought he'd say, that was not it.

“Oh, Draco. Thank you for being so open with me-” she stopped when she noticed he tensed a bit, like he was bracing for rejection.

She surged up to kiss him fiercely. He was visibly relaxed when she pulled away.

“I’m falling too,” she admitted, “will you catch me?”

He kissed her then, resting his forehead on hers at the end. “The best I can. We might get a little banged up, but I will catch you.”

*A Month & a Half Later*

Ginny was sitting in the library studying for her final midterm exam when she heard footsteps approaching. Looking up, she is met with four grumpy looking Slytherins rounding the corner.

“Oh no,” she sighed, closing her book.

“They’re disgusting,” Theo whined, plopping into the chair directly across from her. Pansy sat beside her, Daphne across from her, and Blaise on her other side at the head.

“Oh, it can’t be that bad. He has his own room!”

“She’s always there, Ginny, always! I just want my mate back!”

Daphne patted his shoulder absentmindedly, clearly wishing to be anywhere else.

Pansy scoffed and examined her fingernails. “He hasn’t gone anywhere. He practices Quidditch with you, he sits with you at breakfast, you sit beside him in your classes. Pull yourself together, Theo, really. It’s unbecoming.”

Ginny put her hand over her mouth and Daphne looked up and away from Theo so he couldn’t see her face.

Blaise, however, laughed openly. “He’s happier than he’s ever been, you self absorbed prick.”

Theo crossed his arms, grumbling about how he wasn’t upset that Draco was finally in a good place, he just wished he would come out of his room without Hermione before the winter break.

As if summoning them, the two came around the corner, surprised to see everyone at the table. They all turned to look at them.

“Oh, good, you’re all here.”

Hermione was smiling pleasantly while Draco was incredibly stiff.

Blaise noticed first. “Draco, what in Salazar's name is up your arse?”

“Zip it, Zabini,” he growled.

“What’s up?” Ginny piped.

“We have some news we’d like to share-”

Pansy, Ginny, and Daphne flew out of their chairs so fast she’d have thought they teleported and were grabbing roughly at her left hand.

“Let me see it!”

“I fucking knew it was going to happen!”

“I demand credit for this!”

She looked at them, blinking in confusion. 

“What are you all on about?”

The three witches pulled up her hand; she wore no jewelry.

“Where is the ring?” Pansy hissed, looking at Draco accusingly.

His eyes widened and he turned bright red, looking at the ceiling. “Bloody hell,” he muttered.

Hermione’s brain caught up. “Oh, no, no! What?! It's only been like three months! We just- we’ve decided to start looking for a flat, in London, to rent together after graduation.”

They were all silent for a moment before the girls started speaking excitedly again.

“I demand to be involved in decorating.”

“You have to throw a housewarming party!”

“That’s wonderful!”

She glanced at Draco, whose face was back to its normal color, and smiled widely, allowing her friends to pull her toward the table and he followed. Blaise and Theo nodded their approval as he approached them. Making sure Hermione wasn’t watching, he tapped his signet ring and winked at them. 

Blaise donned a shit-eating grin and Theo punched him in the arm in congratulations.

“Too soon, but eventually,” was all he told them.

After the excitement simmered down, they took their leave. Hermione looped her arm through Draco’s as they crossed the threshold of the library.

“Are you happy?” she asked him, peeking up through her lashes.

He looked down the corridor and then yanked her behind a tapestry. He pressed her into the wall in the little niche they stood in and kissed her heatedly.

“I am, Granger. I already love sharing a room with you sometimes, I can’t wait to have a whole flat to fuck you in all the time.”

She rolled her eyes before smiling widely, then blushed, looking away. “I’m sorry they jumped to, uh, that conclusion.”

Draco shrugged, leaning on the wall. “Don’t be sorry, love. They’ll get to see a ring from my vaults on your pretty little hand some day.”

He ducked out from the tapestry and continued down the hall. She was hot on his heels. 

"Get back here, Malfoy!"

She chased him back down to the dungeons, laughing the entire way. When they reached his room, he wrapped her in his arms.

"What makes you think I'd marry you? We're still young and I'm want to establish a career and-"

"Granger."

She snapped her mouth shut. He cradled her jaw and rubbed his thumb lightly across her cheek.

"Just because I want to offer you a ring, doesn't mean we have to get married in the next month or the next year, or even the next ten years- it just means that you'll be mine when you're ready. I'm not opposed to a long engagement if that's what you'd like."

She couldn't stop the wide smile that spread onto her face. She leaned into his touch and sighed.

"That sounds like a lovely idea, whenever it happens. I love you, Draco."

He bent forward to press a kiss to her lips.

"And I love you."

He didn't tell anyone that he already decided he wanted to marry her the very first night he kissed her. He didn't tell anyone he was going to Gringotts over the holiday with his mother. He didn't tell anyone that he planned to propose on the day they move into a flat.

It seemed fast, but he figured that they'd been through too much over the course of their lives to waste time over something that felt so sure.

So this was it- the beginning to their future.