Harry Potter 1. Day one

Hermione shivered, and pulled her robes closer about her. If she had thought the dungeons were cold during the day, then clearly she hadn't been down there late at night. Which she currently was. How she had gotten down there, and lost herself so late she couldn't remember. The last clear memory she had was of sitting in the warm Gryffindor common room, and working on Professor Sprout's essay on Ancient Magical Maladies (two feet five inches, due Friday), and then getting up to stretch her legs. Of course, she remembered wandering in the halls and then hearing a scream. It took her a moment to realize it was coming from the library, and could only come from a book in the restricted section, sounding the alarm. Next she remembered the sound of clattering feet, and she had taken off and not watched where she was running. Hermione's only thought was to escape Filch, who was surely after the library culprit. And that was how she had found herself in the dungeons, disoriented and lost among the identical stone corridors. 

Shivering again, she came to another crossroads, having the choice to go left, right, or straight on. She looked suspiciously at the floor and walls as to a clue of her whereabouts ('Didn't I just turn right here ten minutes ago?'), but found none. A cold draft from the left helped her make the decision, as it brought forth a rattly laugh from the depths of the castle. None too eager to find out who it was, she clutched her robes tighter around her, and scurried forward. 

But another five minutes found her still lost beneath Hogwarts, and hoping that Filch or Mrs.Norris wouldn't show up. To think, Hermione Granger, prize academic student of Gryffindor being caught out of bed and in the dungeons! Snape would be beside himself with glee! 

The annoying eerie _plop, plop, plop_, of water reverberated down the hallway as she trudged on. Her heavily lidded eyes drooped as she yawned, thinking longing of her bed back up in the tower. Hermione was so wrapped up in her thoughts and frozen misery that she didn't look when turning around a corner, bumping into...

"Draco Malfoy!" She jerked her head up after colliding with the blond. Hastily he shoved a small book into his robes, but not before Hermione saw the cover, and glared, her surprise forgotten. He didn't fail to notice the direction of her gaze, his features turning from confusion to annoyance then settling into the familiar smirk. 

"Well if it isn't Granger. Why out of bed so early muffin? Are Potter and Weasley out causing trouble again?" Malfoy seemed unnaturally chipper, Hermione noticed and she returned his smirk with another glare. 

"I don't see why you should care Malfoy. After all, are you not also out of bed? And is that not a book from the restricted section?" She returned, rather coldly, pulling her robes closer. _Honestly, how can these Slytherins stand these drafty dungeons? It's a wonder they're never sick..._

"I have an excuse." He said haughtily, looking down his pale nose at her. He was at least five inches taller than she. "Not that it matters to you, _mudblood_." He snarled, his thin face contorting in anger. Hermione's temper flared at the insult. "Which I'll bet you don't. Professor Snape would be quite eager to hear your excuses, I'm sure." Malfoy's patented sneer appeared again, leering out at her from the shadows. Hermione glanced at him where he stood and watched her, arms crossed, triumphant in his chance to get a Gryffindor in trouble.

"Oh, and I'm sure Professor McGonagall would enjoy hearing yours then. And perhaps hearing why you have a stolen book?" She shot back, annoyed. Malfoy's expression turned rather sulky then, having a healthy respect of McGonagall as most students did. They eyed each other then - Draco Malfoy the Slytherin prince, and Hermione Granger the Gryffindor brain, and didn't say a word, both calculating their next move, as if they were playing Wizard's chess. Malfoy moved first. 

"So I suppose we're both in a fix then, eh... _Hermione_?" He drawled, relaxing, and took a step towards her. Hermione, startled at hearing her first name, took an involuntary step back, not trusting the lazy smile on her enemy's face. 

"I suppose... _Draco_." She replied, bumping into the icy stone wall. His eyes flickered in amusement, as he bushed a lock of hair off of his forehead. Stepping forward again, he placed both hands on the stones beside Hermione's head, and leaned in until they were nearly nose-to-nose.

"Well then..." He breathed, his eyes matching the smirk on his lips. "We'll just have to make ourselves a deal then, won't we?" As she spoke, his right hand moved to lazily trace down Hermione's jaw line, sending a riot of sparks through her body. 

First she had been wary of Draco, then slightly frightened. But now...? She watched in fascination as his fingertips grazed her lip, warmth springing back into her cold body at his touch. _No!_ She told herself, _You can't act like this! Not for Draco Malfoy!_

But she had fallen under the spell of the grey-eyed boy. 

"So how about... We go our separate ways, and forget this little incident? Hmm?" The pale hand dipped lower and lower, tracing across her exposed collarbone. Everywhere he touched was like wildfire. Hermione's skin burned under his caress, a desire she had rarely felt surfacing from deep inside her. Was it need? The need for love? She didn't know. A few hurried kisses with Viktor hadn't ignited any more passion than kissing her pillow would. So was this love? Lust? She couldn't tell through the drunken haze his touch was creating. 

"Hmmm? So do we have a deal?" Draco's voice dropped to a deep purr near her left ear, and she shivered. _Make a deal with a Malfoy? He had been stealing a book from the restricted section... That wasn't allowed, Madam Pince would have a fit, not to mention the trouble I could get him in..._

A soft sigh of surprise escaped her then, as a cold pair of lips fluttered briefly on her neck. Her mind took an abrupt about face at that moment, before Draco's lips descended upon her neck again. _Turn him in? I should... But maybe just this once... It's late, I need to get to bed... And it's only a small book, it won't be missed..._ The hand at her collarbone moved up and curled slightly around her neck, the lips still lightly pressing at her expose skin. What was he doing to her? She couldn't think straight!

"Deal." Hermione breathed, as Draco's lips began to ascend. He moved back at her words, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. His hands fell back to his sides, and Hermione couldn't help but sigh at the loss of touch. That only encouraged Draco's smirk. He stepped away from her, and Hermione nearly moved forward to feel his warmth again, stopping herself when she realized what she was doing. 

"Pleasure doing business with you... _Granger_. Perhaps we'll find the need for a business... arrangement in the future?" He raised his eyebrow suggestively, his tone implying other things. Recovering her modesty at that moment, Hermione flushed, embarassed, and for once was glad that the dungeons were dark. Suddenly it felt much colder down there...

"Perhaps... _Malfoy_." She replied, in a small nervous voice. Draco obviously found that amusing, as he let out a short laugh. Then just as he stopped, and began to lean into her again, he paused, and they both heard someone.

"I can hear the sound of students out of bed my sweet. Maybe it is our little thief, eh?" A hollow cackling laugh floated down the hall towards them, the voice unmistakably Filch. The pair shared one worried glance in which their eyes met, before it turned back to the usual glare and smirk. Malfoy leaned back. 

"Well, as I'm carrying a special load," He patted his pocket, "I'll be off." With one last triumphant smirk, Malfoy turned, and disappeared, leaving a shocked Hermione standing in the hall. 

_What just happened?_ She gaped at the corner that Draco had just swept around. One minute they had been in a rather... torrid embrace for a Gryffindor and Slytherin, and now Draco was gone. _Malfoy, _She corrected herself. _He's still a rude and obnoxious, un-feeling, un-caring self-absorbed git._

"Oh, and Granger, I would go back to bed, unless you fancy being caught by Filch." Hermione looked up again to see that devilish face peering around the corner, his pale skin contrasting sharply against the stone. And then he was gone again, as quickly as he had reappeared._ I need to go to bed. _Hermione thought wearily, rather shocked and flustered enough for one night. But which way to the Gryffindor tower?

"And the tower is around the next corner to the right, and up the stairs." Malfoy's head appeared again, winked, and was gone for the second time. What had she just been saying about Malfoy being an uncaring git? _That certainly translates as caring in my book._ The thought of a kind Malfoy rather disturbed her. But what alarmed her more was the voice of Filch, much closer now. 

"What, my pretty? Are they down here? Well, let us catch them before they sneak off to their bed!" Snapped out of her reverie, Hermione turned and ran as softly as she could, around the corner, up the stairs, and all the way back to the tower ("Password?" "Incendio!"). She only slowed down once she was safely in bed, the covers pulled tightly to her chin.

When the shaking and confusion subsided slightly, Hermione finally felt the night's exhaustion catching up to her. Too weary to think any longer, or get out of her robes, she relaxed the covers and turned to her side. As she was dozing off, she wondered just what Malfoy was planning to do with _Advanced Love Spells to Snare the Heart_ and just why it was restricted...


	2. Day two

For the second time that week, Hermione could not fall asleep. The first time had proved nearly disastrous - nearly being caught by Filch, getting lost in the dungeons, meeting Malfoy... And it was because of him that she was awake, sitting down in the Gryffindor common room. The first time that she had been up it was because she genuinely couldn't sleep. She supposed that after years of pulling all nighters studying, she had developed insomnia of some sort. But this was not insomnia. 

No, this could not possibly be a sleeping problem. Curling up on the couch, she could feel her heart racing out of control, her mind filled with the images of the night before. 

  
  


_"Hmmm? So do we have a deal?" Draco's voice dropped to a deep purr near her left ear, and she shivered. _

  
  


Oh yes... The feel of his hands was still upon her, and unconsciously she raised a hand and dragged it lightly along her collar bone, mimicking the movements of the night before. Drifting in elysium, Hermione remembered the deep purr of his voice, his spicy, intoxicating scent...

_Snap out of it girl!_ She thought rather angrily to herself, pulling her hand down to her lap, and glaring at it. She couldn't be fawning over a boy. Why, she should be studying for her NEWTS, not dreaming like a lovesick girl! And over Draco Malfoy at that! 

Getting up, she tried to shake off the memory of his hands. But nothing she did could keep her mind from it. In class it had been easy, she had worked as diligently and carefully as always, her mind totally focused and busy. In Potions it had been a little harder, and she had been careful throughout class not to meet his eyes. Snape, as usual, had not helped, placing her and her partner, right beside Malfoy and his. Not about to pass up an opportunity to tease her partner, Ron, Malfoy had goaded the red head all class. 

  
  


_"So I hear that your father is in trouble with the Ministry again Weasley. Still obsessed with muggles eh? Sure you're mother isn't one? She's ugly enough to be." At his sarcastic biting comment, Rom looked up murderously from where he was slicing his boomslang skin. _

"Ron, just ignore him." Hermione said in a low voice, keeping her eyes to her cauldron. She could see from the corner of her eyes Ron's ears getting red, and his face flushing in anger. He cast a rather sulky look at her, and made a rude gesture at Malfoy, turning back to the skins, his tall, lanky form bending over the table once more. From her left, she heard Malfoy's partner, Pansy, giggle, and Malfoy say something to her. Rather annoyed with Malfoy herself, Hermione kept to her work, knowing if she did not stay focused, she could ruin the potion. Getting wrapped up in her work soon enough, she was about to ask Ron for the boomslang skins when...

Malfoy flicked one at Ron, and it hit him in the nose, bouncing off, and into the potion, where it hissed and bubbled, splashing out onto the table. His face flushing quickly, Ron took up the challenge and picked up one of their skins and lobbed it at Malfoy before she could tell him not to. The skin went flying though the air quickly, and smacked Malfoy square in the forehead. Hermione looked on in growing terror, as the skin stuck for a few seconds on his forehead, then lazily fell off. It landed on the desk with an ominous THUNK. The whole class had now caught wind of the two boys facing each other off, Hermione in the middle. In her peripheral vision, she could see Harry about to jump in and stop the fight... But before anything else could happen Professor Snape jumped in. 

"What is the meaning of this! Ten points off you Mr.Weasley, for starting a fight, and another five off for wasting your ingredients!" The greasy man had glared down at him. Poor Ron cowered under Snape as usual, and sat down, having learned last class not to provoke Snape. That had cost Gryffindor fifty points. "And for you Miss Granger, five points for not preventing the fight!" Anything to make it a full twenty points from Gryffindor_, Hermione thought, her old burning anger for Snape igniting. When Snape had billowed away to his next victim (Hermione felt worse for poor Neville), she looked to Malfoy for the first time that class, angry as usual, for he has escaped blame once again. But all she got was that patented smirk, and as she turned away, a wink. Surprised, she turned back, but he was already looking down to his caldron. _

  
  


Oh, what was she thinking, she hated the slimy git! She hated how he always escaped the blame, always was so cool and calm, so dashingly handsome even in the mornings, when the rest of the school was rumpled and bleary eyed, how... No! She mustn't think these thoughts! Moving from where she had been standing and day dreaming, she purposely went over to where her books were by the fire. Snape had called her and Ron up to the front of the class afterwards, and had given them both essays to do, ridiculously hard ones, on a rare potion ingredient. The only books in the whole school on the topic were in the restricted section.

  
  


_Hermione returned to her desk after class, her face flushed slightly in anger at Snape. When she had protested the difficulty of their punishment, he had only given them a condescending smirk and threatened to take more points off. The injustice of his behavior still stung after all these years. _

_"'Scuse me." She moved past to let Ron rush by her to the desk, where he grabbed his books. "Sorry. Gotta run up to the tower for Divination." He gave one of his sweet smiles, and she smiled back before he ran off. Hermione knew Ron fancied her a bit, but he was too much of a gentleman to do anything, and she preferred to leave it at that. _He has certainly grown up nice_, she mused to herself as she packed her books, a small smile on his lips. From the rather plain little kid that had come to Hogwarts, Ron had matured into a striking young man, lanky and athletic. He had plenty of girls all over him too, and Harry was more than glad to share the limelight. _

_Vowing to do something nice for her two best friends that night, Hermione left the potions classroom, her head down, books clutched to her chest. Typical Hermione stance. Hurrying through the dungeons, her mind wandered a bit to the night before, but she pushed it away, preoccupying herself with thoughts of her essay. _

_Coming to a junction of corridors, she slowed down automatically, to turn and head up the stairs. Behind her there was a chattering group of students, and she idly listened for a moment, though their talk was nonsensical. Turning to go up the stairs, she heard the smallest of whispers, _

_"I still haven't been caught." For a moment she was too surprised to do anything, but when she turned around to see who is was, there was only the swirl of a black cape. She thought briefly of seeing who is was, but is she did, she was going to be late for class. _

_There was only one person who would worry about being caught though, she thought, the secret speakers breath still warm on her ears... _

  
  


Of course it was Malfoy that had whispered that in her ear earlier. Who else could it be?

Hermione caught herself day dreaming again, and looked sternly down at her note book. She had this stupid essay to write! She needed to start work now, or it would never get done. 

She briefly considered borrowing Harry's invisibility cloak and taking the book she needed from the library... But then she'd be no better than Malfoy, and besides, they would be watching the library tonight, to see if the thief would come back. Bending over her book, she started to read, but now her mind just could not focus. 

Hermione tried everything in the few hours that followed - she did homework, studied for her NEWTS, read _Hogwarts; A History. _ She paced around the Gryffindor common room, and prodded at the dying fire. She did everything she could until she felt like exploding. Finally deciding to go to bed, even though she knew she's just sit there and lie awake, Hermione poked Ron awake, and told him she was going up to bed. He nodded sleepily at her and sat up, mumbling a good night. Heading to the girl's staircase, she looked back at Ron when she was at the base, as smiled - he had already collapsed back onto the couch as she knew he would. Her heart warmed a little at his so very Ron action. 

Beginning the climb to her dorm, clutching her books to her chest, she realized that her world was changing. _First Drac- Malfoy, and now Ron. I really CANNOT be getting a crush again, can I?_ The thought rather disturbed her, but she couldn't ignore the smouldering flames that had ignited in her chest at the thought of the blond and the red headed boys...


	3. Day three

Bong. Bong. Bong. 

The deep timbre of the clock sounded quite deep and loud in the quite of the girl's dorm. Hermione lay awoke in bed, staring at the ceiling in mindless boredom, the sheets thrown haphazardly over her pajamas. It was one o'clock am. And she was awake again. 

For the THIRD bloody night in a row! She mentally wailed to herself. Turning her head to the side, she looked at the other sleeping girls in her room, and envied them, something she had never done. Never had she had reason to - she was always the smartest girl in their grade, always at the top of the class, and liked by the teacher. Sure, they had things like boyfriends, many friends, and leisure time, but Hermione had never wanted those things in the first place. And now they could sleep normally too. Oh the injustice. 

Hermione winced at a sudden thought - they had one more thing over her, and that was their boyfriends. Curling her lip in distaste of her own self, Hermione mentally chastised herself. I don't need a boyfriend. I have two best friends, and my books. Why do I need more? But there was something else there, something that she wished she could ignore, and push away, but something that also made her appreciate a good looking man, made her yearn to be in someone's embrace. Perhaps she even wanted to be kissed somewhere deep in her heart. But in true Hermione fashion, she locked away these thoughts as soon as they surfaced. I can't. A boyfriend would take me away from my studies. Even as she thought it however, she knew she was lying to herself. 

Trying to escape from her own demons, Hermione sighed, and sat up in bed, flipping her feet over the side. Her feet wriggled for a moment on the cold floor before she found her slippers, and put them on. Grabbing her wand, and a candle and holder, she padded from her room, shutting the door quietly behind her. The whole Gryffindor tower was completely silent as she tip-toed silently down, pausing at the base of the stairs to light her candle with a softly spoken word. 

Now that she had reached the common room, she knew not what she wanted to do. All her homework was finished, even Snape's rotten old essay. With a few chosen words to Professor McGonagall ("Well you see, I can't find a book on Labrius Monoctinus. Would you know where I can find one? Professor Snape wants an essay on it. ") she had gotten reluctant, and watched permission for her and Ron to read the old battered book from the restricted section. The look on Snape's face when they turned in the essays was well worth having Madam Pince breathing down their necks the whole time they used the book. 

Of course, the rest of her homework had been ridiculously easy, and had been finished hours earlier. And for once in her life, she didn't feel like studying. That alone was enough to really worry her, but what worried Hermione even more was what was keeping her mind occupied. It was Draco Malfoy. Or, more correct, Malfoy and Ron. It seemed that suddenly her hormones had decided to go on overdrive, and decide that Hermione had to get two horrible crushes, one on her best friend, and the other on her worst enemy. This was just not her week!

Decidedly bored already, Hermione gave a quick glance to the portrait hole. If she could sneak to the library, she could do a few hours reading in her secluded little corner. As long as she could get to the library, and her spot without getting caught, she was sure that her mind could be occupied by a good book. So, taking one of her bigger chances, she opened up the portrait hole, and left the Gryffindor common room. 

Shutting the Fat Lady quietly (she gave Hermione quite the scare with a loud yawn) Hermione shielded the small flame with her hand, and hurried to the library as fast as she could, her slippers making little noise on the floor. 

Halfway there, she realized that she still had on her old flannel pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt on. For a moment, she almost turned around and went back, but then had a quiet little chuckle - There would be nobody to see her in the library anyway! Carefully she navigated down to the library, taking short-cuts and back ways whenever she could. Only once did she have a risky encounter, nearly running headlong into a mumbling ghost known as Crazy Charlie. He wandered the halls only at night, and mumbled little nonsensical things to himself, twiddling his thumbs. He also enjoyed to make a horrible racket if you walked through him. 

Then suddenly, she was at the dark doors of the library. Breathing a large sigh of relief, she pushed through the doors and into her safe haven. Her feeble candlelight would be enough to read by, but it by no means lit up the large library at all. Feeling the familiar feeling of glee, Hermione nearly skipped down the long rows of books, stopping every so often when a title caught her eye. When the candle in it's little metal holder because too dangerous to carry, Hermione made her way to her favorite spot. 

This had been her safe haven since first year, when she wasn't liked by anyone, and there was all that trouble with Ron and Harry. She had come running in here one day, and suddenly found herself in this little alcove. She was sure that Hogwart's magic was in the library as well, as the secret niche was always hard to find. Even now, she took a wrong turn before coming out into the small little corner. 

On the outside, it must look like a little square out of the wall, a window in the center. To the inside, it was a cosy little space, just big enough for a table, and two high-backed chairs. Smiling in relief, she approached the chair, the books getting heavy in her arms. She was rather glad that no body else had found this place yet, she rather liked that she had it all to herse-

Hermione's thoughts paused mid-word, for when she rounded about the chair, there was none less than Draco Malfoy sitting there! So much for all my own She thought with a wry twist, though outwardly she gaped at the blond. 

And there he sat, impeccable in the patchy chair, slouched down. His knees rested on the edge of the table, an open book before him, and a fleeting look of concentration. For a moment they both stared at each other in shock, blinking once or twice. Then Hermione noticed that he also had his pajamas on, and an embarrassed flush rose to her face. 

"Granger." As usual, he recovered quicker, his voice smooth and awake. How could the boy do it? When Hermione just stood there and said nothing, his brow furrowed in annoyance. "Are you going to stand and gape at me all day, or sit down?" Blinking again, and then blushing even more, she dumped her books onto the table, and plunked her candle beside him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him close the book he had been reading, putting the cover face down on the table. She looked at it, then met his eyes. 

"Returning to the scene of the crime." She stated, her brown eyes meeting his grey. He stared back, steely and calm, though his mouth broke into a sneer. 

"And I suppose you're here to give me a talk about morals." He retorted, folding his arms over his chest. "Out of bed again are we? Twice in one week.... Tisk tisk." Hermione, flustered at his appearance (and hers, she realized with a blush) already, just stared down, and organized her books into a neat little pile. Anger flared in her chest suddenly. It was all his fault she couldn't sleep!

"I couldn't sleep." Well there's the first time I tell Malfoy the truth. She thought, scoffing at herself. A pale eyebrow raised as he suddenly studied her rather intensely. Hermione sank down into the chair, suddenly shy. A slow smile spread on his face, a pleased, happy look. This was getting a little weird for Hermione. Suddenly she wanted to go back to her dorm. 

"I think I should go." She stood up, and slipped from her chair, grabbing hastily at her candle, nearly knocking over Draco's. Malfoy, she told herself He's Malfoy, not Draco! Flighty and nervous, she started forward towards the bookcases, fear buoying her pounding heart. And then she couldn't go farther, the book cases pulled away, and she was stationary. And there was a cold hand in hers. 

Slowly she turned around, the hand tightly gripping hers. She looked from it straight into Malfoy - no, Draco's eyes. He was staring at her with a sort of innocence, longing almost. He had twisted around in his seat to stop her, and she was no less than a pace away, caught. 

Without losing eye contact, he raised her hand upwards, in seemingly slow motion. Hermione was powerless to what was happening. She was frozen in time, her heart caught in a web of seduction. And she gave herself fully into it, her whole body shaking. The pale hand drew hers up and up, Draco's grey eyes gazing straight into hers, so he could see her reaction. The reaction she gave when his mouth gently touched a feathery kiss upon her hands, like a gallant knight of old. 

Hermione felt everything break and melt inside her then, and she felt that if she tried to speak, nothing would come out. Her chest was tight with repressed emotion, her head heavy. 

"Goodnight... Hermione." The whisper of breath escaped Draco's lips in an almost silent tone. His eyes still held her slightly frightened ones for a moment longer, and then he broke the spell, and let go of her hand. 

Standing for a moment, Hermione wondered what had just happened. She was so close to just throwing herself wantonly at him... So she turned a fled, feeling like a little ninny. She tore through the shelves of book, fleeing Draco as if he was the black death himself. She didn't know why, she just did. 

Oh god, oh god oh god! She tore through the halls, her slippered feet making little slaps on the floor. Her hair streamed behind her, and eventually even her candle guttered out from the wind. She ran until she felt her lungs would burst, all the way to te Gryffindor tower. 

"Pepper breath!" She wheezed out the password to the Fat Lady. She awoke with the start and glared at Hermione, opening her mouth to speak. "Oh just let me in!" Something in Hermione's desperate tone must have tipped the Fat Lady that something was wrong, and she opened with a sleepy scowl, but nary a word. 

Still running as if her life depended upon it, Hermione ran up the stairs to her door, and rushed into the room. Slamming her candle holder onto her night-table with a loud clang, she hopped into bed, and pulled the covers over her head. Only then did she let herself breath. 

Taking in great gulps of air, she could barely believe what had just gone on in the library. She almost didn't want to believe what had happened, but her heart constricted painfully, and she had no choice but to. Oh GOD. Her heart beat even faster, her mind flashing to his lips upon her skin... And then suddenly her hand was pressed against her cheek, and she could feel her hot flush on her cold skin. 

"Hermione?" The sleepy voice of Lavender made her jump in bed. Holding a hand to her racing heart, she stayed quiet for a minute, though she was sure that her heavy breathing gave her away. After a moment, the rustle of blankets signified that Lavender had gone back to sleep. Breathing a sigh of relief through her great gulps of air, Hermione felt like ever nerve in her body was on overdrive. Her thoughts moved almost too quickly for her to follow, and for her normally collected self, it was frightening. She was unraveling, mind and soul, because of a kiss to her hand. 

Hermione didn't fall asleep at all that night. 


	4. Day Four

_Scratch scratch scratch_. 

Hermione's pen moved across her paper quickly spewing out words, her mind working just as fast. She was nearly finished her essay for Professor Sprout, and if she did say so herself, it was going along rather well. 

The library was nice and silent around her as well, probably judging to the fact that it was nine thirty, and most students were in bed or in their common rooms. But no, here she was, Hermione Granger, all by herself in the library. She didn't mind much the empty desks, or the already snoring Madame Pince, and subsequently this was her favorite time in the library. No immature first years playing exploding snap in the shelves, or setting off dung bombs. She thought happily, remembering her own first year days fondly. She never had forgiven Fred Weasley for putting that dung bomb in her hair...

Shaking her head to clear it, she checked her textbook and continued to write. She would have gone to her private study seat to have extra privacy, but after the night before... Hermione shook her head again, and frowned at the paper. She had just written something completely different than she had intended to. _Musn't think of last night._ She told herself. Repeating the mantra in her head, she started back on her work again. 

_"As well as being used in different memory potions, Jobberknoll feathers are most often used in truth serums, an-"_ A book clattered in another area of the library, and Hermione looked up, rather annoyed at her quiet being disturbed. But the shelves fell silent after a moment, and since Madam Pince was still asleep on her desk, Hermione went back to her essay. 

_"Wolfsbane potion is extre-" _Hermione started writing again, but had to stop mid-word. She had started to write something totally different _again_. Groaning, Hermione flopped down onto her arms. _I'm losing my mind!_ She thought. _I never forget a thing, and here I am, writing out a whole different potion!_ Then she paused, horrified, as something occurred to her. 

Rapidly flipping back through her last sheet of work, she cried out when she saw her mistake. The last page and a half had all been written on potions and their ingredients, while her essay was supposed to be on magical maladies. Hermione was close to tears at the sight of all that work. She had wasted hours on writing that, and it wasn't even needed. Mustering up some determination, she shed her robes and pushed up the sleeves of her black shirt, taking out a new piece of parchment. She stared blankly at the empty expanse and no words came. Just as she felt as if she was about to rip the whole essay up, she paused, and turned an ear towards the book shelves. 

From behind came a noise again, and a distant giggle. Frustrated with her peace and quiet being disturbed, Hermione's head snapped up in annoyance. She got up, and strode into the shelves, looking for the culprit and intending to ream them out for being noisy. She was soon lost in the tall shelves that flanked her sides, filled to the ceiling with all sorts of magical and ancient tomes. Some books twitched on the shelf as she passed, and others glowed, but Hermione had long learned to ignore the sudden flashes and movement, and just pass by. She heard the laughter again up ahead of her, and strode forward purposely, turning at the next junction and heading deeper into the shelves to where she thought the noise was coming from.

A loud _bang!_ Came from her left suddenly, and she ran to the next aisle and down a few shelves, looking for the noise. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she bent down to pick up a fallen book - the source of the bang. Her fingers danced along the other covers of shelved books as she looked for _Modern Magical Tools (circa 1372)_'s place, finding the empty slot quickly, and sliding the book back into place. Feeling oddly good about cleaning up the already nearly impeccable library, Hermione almost forgot about the laugh. Then, closer now, came another giggle, and she set off to find the person. 

_Probably a pair of flirting students causing trouble again. Where can a girl get some quiet around here? _Hermione grumbled to herself, not realizing she sounded like the old Madam Pince herself. A few moments later, there was another bang and giggle. Hermione ran around the corner to find another book out of the shelf, and lying in the middle of the aisle. She picked it up, frowning, and saw that it belonged at the opposite side of the library. To take it there, she would miss catching the trouble maker, who by now knew that she was looking for them. Why else drop books and keep laughing? She huffed in annoyance and walked on, intent on finding the culprit and berating them. All her frustration at her essay and last night's events came out in her search. 

Hermione whirled around and ran down another aisle as another book dropped, and the person laughed. It was no longer a quiet giggle, but loud, full bellied laughter. Hermione hoped that Madam Pince would wake up and help catch the person, but the old lady had been drinking out of her flask when she thought Hermione wasn't looking, and the girl doubted she'd be up any time soon. It went that way every night. 

She picked up the next book on the floor, and again, it was from the opposite side of the library. Hermione walked down that aisle, figuring out the person was playing a little game of follow-the-books with her. Peeved with them, Hermione walked brusquely down the aisle and into the next, twisting and turning each time she heard another bang. Every time she also found a book lying on the floor, usually from the opposite side of the library, and each time she picked it up and carried it with her, intending to re-shelve them when this whole adventure was over. 

After a while, Hermione's agitation grew. The person was now dropping very thick, or very vicious books down for her to collect. The last one she had come across was the infamous _Monster Book of Monsters_, and she had to flee down another aisle to escape the snapping book. How the person had got it out of the locked cage the book was kept in, she didn't know. But it furthered her severe annoyance with whoever it was, and she strode down the aisles quicker, now leaving the fallen books when she came across them. 

She first realized the person wasn't dropping books anymore when she noticed the extreme silence in the large room. She had grown used to the constant laughter and thumps of the books, but now that the person was not dropping them anymore, the silence was deafening. 

Hermione was now running full tilt down the lanes of shelves, knowing that the books had stopped being dropped because she was close. The books still clutched in her arms were jostling around and slipping as she ran, and for a moment, Hermione slowed and looked down to grab a falling one as she was turning the corner. 

_Bang!_ She collided into something soft and the books went crashing onto the floor in an extra loud bang. One started to smoke alarmingly and glow blue as Hermione surveyed the wreckage piled about her culprit's black robes. Before she even saw their face, she knew who it was. 

"Well if it isn't Granger... Book police." Draco Malfoy drawled out, bending over and picking up the blue book by a corner. He dropped it rather quickly when it fell open and flames bloomed out. Hermione breathed in deeply a few times, trying to calm both her temper and racing heart. She cursed her body for reacting to the sheer proximity of Malfoy, and stared pointedly at the books, grinding her teeth very slowly. 

"Out of all the people in this school, I would have never expected to find your bushy head here." Malfoy spoke again, turning around, and walking into a reading nook, his tone heavily sarcastic. Hermione looked up and blinked at the sudden sight of the small nook, which housed two rather large chairs, and a single portrait. The occupant was missing from it, the bleak wintery backdrop devoid of any life. Malfoy reclined in one of the large chairs and smiled out at her with a lazy self-satisfied smirk.

"Speak up ingrate, I can't hear your whining voice." He said, rolling his eyes, and delicately yawed and stretched, reminding Hermione of a very graceful cat. He was dressed in black robes, as usual, and a green and silver tie was hanging undone around his neck. 

"You can throw your petty insults at someone else Malfoy. I'm not standing around for your amusement." Hermione said, returning his smirk with her usual glare, feeling a little more of her usual hate bubbling up. _He's so bloody arrogant and calm, so self assured... That bastard!_ She thought angrily, not particularly wanting to start fighting with him. She couldn't ignore the rapid beating of her heart, and knew that if she did start yelling at him, she'd be up all night dreaming about the way his grey eyes flashed in anger, the way he carried himself, as if he was a prince, or the way his cloak swirled about his lean body as he paced....

"You already amuse me by being here mudblood." Malfoy's voice brought her back from her daydream and Hermione flushed: both from her thoughts, and from the insult. Smirking, his gaze flicked to the books at her feet and then back to her face. _Well he obviously enjoyed his little game of hide and seek. But I didn't!_

"Sod off Malfoy." Hermione spat at him, keeping her growing anger tightly reined. She turned around to leave, and he jumped up and followed beside her. 

"What are you doing?" She asked rather peevishly after a moment, disconcerted by his presence beside her. She felt him turn and look to her, and grin. 

"Going back to the Slytherin common room. Everyone there at least is pure blood." He said, sneering at her. The jibe hurt Hermione as always, and she pursed her lips in anger, lest she lash out at him. Though, the thought of smacking him did have its appeal...

They continued walking on in silence through the giant shelves. 

As they traveled along quietly, Malfoy stayed uncomfortably close to her, his robes brushing her arm as she walked. Hermione pulled her limb close in to avoid the contact, and moved a little away from him. He moved with her, and was once again walking too close beside her. She glared at him, for he was far too close for comfort, but Draco looked innocently ahead, as if he wasn't doing a thing. Now, Hermione's shoulder was brushing the book shelves as she walked, and it added fuel to her anger at Draco, and to her agitation. 

Draco stuck his foot out suddenly a moment after she tried to move farther away from him, and Hermione tripped on it, staggering into a bookshelf. The sudden spiteful act unleashed all the anger that had been brewing in her, and she turned to Malfoy, her eyes blazing, and a foul word falling off her lips. Malfoy looked shocked to hear such a utterance out of her, and looked like he was going to protest. But he couldn't get a word in edgewise, as all Hermione ever wanted to say to him poured out in her hatred. 

"You vain, pompous, self absorbed git! Always demeaning others, playind dirty minded tricks... Never thinking for other people, only for yourself! I could have fallen there, and hurt myself, but you never think for other people's welfare! You play stupid, petty games and tricks to annoy already stressed out people, and then you laugh at them and hurl insults towards them and their families! You are the epitome of rudeness. Do you ever stop to think of what your words and actions could mean to some people?

"You think you're all powerful, a leader of the Slytherins: especially for having Snape on your side. But you know what? You're only a slimy git and a teacher's pet. I _despise_ you, Draco Malfoy. You are not worth the time of anyone in this school." She had delivered that all in a furious whisper, and when she had stopped, her chest was heaving and she felt even worse. She shouldn't be speaking like this to anyone, even Draco Malfoy. It was just so rude, and Hermione liked to think of herself as a very kind person. She was contemplating apologizing when Malfoy recovered. 

Hermione slammed painfully backwards into the bookshelf, her wrists pinned to the wood. Her startled eyes met the steely grey ones of Draco. 

"Don't you ever, **ever** speak to me again like that you stupid mudblood." Her growled deep in his throat, his nose inches away from her own. Her spine dug into the hard wood of the shelf, and his body was pressed close up against hers to keep her there. This close, she could smell him: spicy, edgy, dark. It thrilled her all in a very frightening way. 

Hermione could easily see that her diatribe had angered him: and she didn't think she had ever seen him so furious before. His beautiful face was contorted into an angry and malicious sneer; his eyes nearly sparked in fury. She mustered up her courage and stared back defiantly. 

Draco snarled at her after a moment and let go of her wrists. The charged energy between them crackled as he stepped back, not losing eye contact. But in his eyes, Hermione could see his anger slipping, and him fighting with himself over something else. He stood in front of her for a moment longer, his gaze fixated... And then he broke his eyes away, and turned away with the swirl of his cloak, passing on her left to head away down another aisle. 

Hermione let the air out of her lungs with one gush, and realized that she was shaking slightly; though in what she did not know. Anger, fear, hatred, lust? She couldn't tell. She leaned against the shelf for support and looked straight ahead, willing her knees not to give in to the shaky, wobbling feeling. Her heart beating erratically in her chest at an impossible speed also made it difficult to focus on any clear thought. She knew she should be triumphant now, exultant in her victory over Draco Malfoy. She had made him look away in their contest of wills. It would be a story to tell her fellow Gryffindors by the fire that night, and something to gloat and be congratulated over...

But Hermione felt only bitter disappointment in herself. Again, she knew she shouldn't have said all those things, sunk to his low level. Just because he was rude, and would put people down, didn't mean that she had to fight with him, and do the same. In doing that, she was no better than he. 

That upset her, and she blinked a few times as she felt her heart slowing down, her legs getting stronger, her shakes subsiding. 

Just before she was about to return the nook and collect the books to re-shelve, her chin was wrenched to the side by a cold hand. She found herself staring into Draco's eyes again that night, and almost immediately, her heart started to beat quickly. An apology started to bubble to her lips, but she couldn't bring herself to say it, though it was the right thing to do. Draco was searching her face with those lovely eyes of his, looking for something, his own face no longer angry, but as Hermione thought hers must looks like: upset, dazed, angry, sorry. 

When his eyes focused back onto her own, he blinked once, and his hold on her chin loosened a bit. 

"Goodnight Hermione." He said quietly. Before she could reply to that, or give her own apology, he leaned in, and touched his lips ever so lightly to her cheek. The feather soft touch was barely enough to register as any more than a polite kiss, but Hermione's skin blazed at the contact. Her heart was racing so quickly she thought it would burst. Draco's silvery hair brushed against her cheek as he moved back, and she shivered, goosebumps rising up on her exposed arms. For a fleeting moment his face had some indescribable (and most un-Malfoy like) expression upon it, before it settled to the usual sneer. Draco gave a mocking bow as Hermione struggled for words, and then swept off for a second time. 

This time, Hermione's wobbly knees did give out, and she sat hard onto the wooden floor of the library, her mind miles ahead of herself, trying to figure out what happened, what that look was; why Draco kept appearing near her. Her swallowed and leaned her head back on the wood, taking a few deeps breaths, though the nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach did not abate. 

Hermione sat there for quite some time, until she heard even Madame Pince get up and dim the lamps, and the quiet shut of the door as she left for her rooms. The silence of the room helped to calm Hermione's jangled nerves, and slowly she returned to normal. 

Where her behind began to get sore from sitting there, she slowly stood up, and made her way to where her books and essay were sitting out. With still shaky hands, she swept everything into her bag, knowing perfectly well she wouldn't be finishing that essay today. Her mind in a fuzzy daze, Hermione slipped out of the dark library and up to the Gryffindor tower and bed, not knowing that a silver haired shadow watched her leave from behind the shelves. 


End file.

Harry Potter, Drama, Romance