'You speak to me as if you're afraid you'll fall in love with me'

"Do you still hate me?" He asks making her look up from the book she's reading. They're in the library in the manor. He's watching her from his seat beside the crackling fire.

"I never hated you," her eyes return to her page in the book open on her lap. She's sitting in the window seat that has become hers over the last few weeks. The rain dances against the window as it falls on this February afternoon. He doesn't have much time or he would need to wait for next year.

Some knowledge had been lost over time. Magically powerful and significant days had been forgotten. It is now February the thirteenth. He has until midnight tomorrow to get her to make the first move. Their first kiss needs to be after midnight tonight, the relationship consummated by midnight tomorrow. Those two events within the same twenty-four hour period.

She's attracted to him. Of that he has no doubt. He'd seen the way she would look at him, the way she reacted when a slip of skin would show when he stretched. The faint blush that would appear when she was caught looking at him.

It shouldn't be this difficult. They'd been friends with each others for years. The current research project she'd begun new year's day had led her here, to his family library.

In the weeks since they'd spent a lot of time together but her walls never faltered. Not for an instant had she given him an opportunity he could use to breach through the civility they maintained. It was beyond frustrating.

"We're not friends though are we?" He challenges her. Draco wouldn't usually push, however the prospect of having to wait another year is too much. What if another wizard captures her heart in the coming months?

Thankfully her walls aren't exclusively for him.

She puts her book down swinging her legs round, and looks at him. She's silhouetted against the dim light from the window. They'd been reading by book light. An ingenious charm she'd developed herself that lit only the pages of the book in a darkened room without straining the reader's eyes.

The storm dark room hides her face as she looks at him in the glow of the firelight. He meets her eyes without seeing them. Waiting.

Waiting for her to speak, to respond to his accusation.

"Why on earth would you think we aren't friends?" He almost fancies he can see her face scrunching up in confusion. The adorable little wrinkles that crease her nose.

"Many reasons. So many I wouldn't even know with which to start," he responds.

"Try," she demands of him. He puts down his own book and turns to look at her properly, hidden in shadows though she is.

"Very well. You don't treat me in the same manner you do your friends. You've never said my name and you avoid any physical contact you can," he begins.

"I don't..."

"Today when you arrived you hugged and kissed my mother as usual then you nodded at me. You willingly hug everyone bar me," he informs her.

The light from the window catches her jaw as she opens and closes it trying to find the words. He wishes to see if a blush has begun to form but cannot risk the light. The shadow she's in allows her the opportunity to hide from him. Without that she'd run, Gryffindor or not.

"My mother is Narcissa yet I am still Malfoy. There isn't anyone in our acquaintance except you that still calls me that. It has been over a year since Ron called me by my surname and Harry only does it when we joke around. But you? Never once has my name slipped from your lips. It's another way for you to keep yourself distant from me," he challenges her.

"You think I'm keeping my distance from you?" She asks.

"No. I know you are. I'm just wondering why. Why do you refuse to be my friend Hermione?" He counters backing her into a corner. She looks at the ground thinking. Had none of this occurred to her? Had it all been subconscious?

She gets up and walks from her seat to his. He'd chosen the love seat on purpose today leaving his favourite chair unoccupied. She sits to his left close but not touching.

That's how they always are.

Close but not touching.

Despite her back being to the fire he now sees half her face illuminated by the light of the flames.

"Perhaps I'm scared to be your friend. Maybe I'm scared of being close to you. Maybe I'm scared that once we start to cross lines we won't stop," She confesses.

"You speak to me as if you're afraid you'll fall in love with me," he laughs gently. She ducks her head under the weight of his gaze.

"Would that really be the worse thing to happen?" He asks carefully.

"You'll break my heart," she whispers.

"You'll break mine too," he tells her. "Have dinner with me tonight?"

She looks up at him suddenly.

"Like.. as a date?" She asks cautiously.

"Yes. As a date. Clearly trying to be friends doesn't work for us. So let's try this instead. Please?"

The silence stretches between them.

"I don't know if..." she sighs.

"Here. Have dinner with me here. We can't go out in public. The papers would have a field day and then we'd have to suffer our friends opinions before we have a chance to form our own," he laughs. She laughs with him relaxing a little.

"Okay," she says standing up. "I'll be your date for dinner this evening. What time?"

"Does eight work for you?"

"Eight is fine. I'll go now," she says hurrying to the window seat to grab her things. He walks her to the floo in silence not wanting to say the wrong thing. At the floo he stops, and takes her hand in his, kissing the tops of her fingers.

"I'll see you this evening, Hermione," he smiles at her. She nods dimly before leaving. He sags against the wall.

"This evening?" His mother asks emerging from the shadows.

"We're having dinner at eight," he smirks.

"Well it's about time. Tomorrow is Valentine's," she reminds him gently. "Is it possible that..."

"As long as I don't kiss her before midnight we should be fine," he grins.

"Do not squander this opportunity, Draco. Moments such as this are rare," she reminds him.

"Witches like her are rare. This opportunity is something I've been building to for years. I've waited until the right moment to make my move, kept others from her, developed the good opinion of her friends. I do know what I'm doing!" He scoffs.

"Of course you do. You're far more intelligent than you're father ever was. Just remember it's a double edged sword, the power you intend to wield," she cautions.

"You think she's not worthy?"

"Of course I don't think that. I'm just concerned for you. Ice melts under fire that burns that brightly. But I will get out of your way. Somewhere warm and tropical I think," she smiles before flouncing off to round up house-elves to prepare for her trip.

He saunters off to the kitchen to prepare for that evening.

When Hermione arrives she is greeted by a house elf and escorted to the kitchen. A room she'd never seen before. His breath catches as she walks in. She's wearing a casual yet elegant bright red dress. It swings at mid thigh showing off perfect legs with high heels the same shade as the dress.

"Wow," he says wiping his hands on a tea towel before giving her a peck on the cheek. "You're stunning Hermione. I'm clearly underdressed. The house elves were supposed to interrupt me half an hour ago so I could change," he sighs.

"I thought house elves have to follow your orders?"

"Free elves don't," he shrugs. "They aren't happy about me cooking tonight."

"I didn't know you can cook," she says looking interested.

"It's a lot like potions. I already had the basic skills. I've always loved good food but I'd always be thinking of how to improve it. That if only they'd used this herb or that spice it would be incredible. You're the first person to try it. Mother wouldn't touch my 'muggle experiments' as she called them," he laughs. Hermione takes in the array of ingredients he has. Many different herbs, spices even some magical plants. He's dressed casually in jeans and a tight light grey tshirt. His attire moulds to his skin as though he painted his clothing upon his muscles.

"I can go change now if you wish?" He asks deliberately misinterpreting her gaze.

"No," she replies a little too quickly. "I mean it hardly matters when we're just staying here," She flushes.

"Whatever the lady wishes," he grins. "What did you tell Harry when you were leaving?"

"The truth. That I was joining you for dinner," Hermione shrugs.

"I take it he had an opinion,"

"Doesn't everyone," she laughs evasively.

"Come on spill. Did Harry forbid you from seeing me? We might be mates now but that doesn't mean he's necessarily happy about this," he begins chopping herbs roughly with sure movements. She watches as he adds careful portions to the pot on the side.

"Actually he laughed. Suggested it was long over due. Asked which of us was the first to.." She stops flustered.

"It's fine. Harry will tell me," he winks at her.

"Fine," she huffs. "He asked which was the first of us to admit we'd been eye fucking for weeks and asked if we'd progressed to actual shagging in the library yet." Despite the blush staining her cheeks she hadn't looked away from his eyes as she'd spoken. His jeans felt too tight.

"Huh," was his eloquent reply. "I expect your reply was colourful."

"I told him to mind his own fucking business. He'd just laughed suggesting this dress wasn't something I'd wear for someone who'd seen the whole show already and told me to have fun."

"Tosser. You look incredible," Draco assures her.

"So you're saying that this dress didn't instantly make you think of sex?" She asks innocently.

"Hermione you could have walked in here wearing head to toe shapeless black robes and I'd instantly think of sex," he deflects. It's only eight thirty. He needs more time than this. She laughs. He loves her laugh. Even more when he's the one to coax it from her.

They chat about her research while he works. She's working with the oldest volumes that discuss warding. No advancements have been made for centuries. She's planning to change that. Find new ways to ward properties and people from harm. Malfoy Manor has some of the most intricate wardings in Wizarding Britain it was the best place for her to begin her research.

He's working on all the dishes at the same time. She can't track what is going into each dish but there is nothing nefarious on the table so she isn't concerned.

"I... er... wasn't sure what you'd like so I got a little carried away and made a little of everything," he sheepishly says, as he levitates the dishes on to the table. He thought this would take more time stretching out their evening. It's gone nine when the main courses land on the table. He takes them slowly through each dish one eye always on the clock. It's almost ten thirty when they finish the last plate.

"Wow that was incredible. You've truly never cooked for anyone else before?"

He shakes his head a slight blush on his cheeks.

"We haven't even had the best part yet," he grins clearing the plates with his wand as he goes to the counter bringing over two dishes with silver domes protecting and concealing the food.

"You know my parents were dentists so growing up I mostly had sugar free deserts?"

"All the more reason to enjoy them now," he removes the lids from the dishes showing a slice of decadent chocolate cake.

"You can't turn it down. It's even better than the main courses and my blood, sweat and tears went into making this," he laughs.

"It does smell incredible," she says picking up the desert fork. He watches intently as she takes a small amount of the cake into her mouth letting it melt on her tongue. She moans as she swallows.

It is superb.

Draco picks up his own fork consuming his piece slowly, stretching out the time.

He watches as she slides one finger through the chocolate buttercream on plate bringing it to her mouth. She looks him in the eyes as she moans around her finger.

He glances at the clock. Just gone eleven. Still an hour to go until he can kiss her.

He has to wait.

No matter what the temptation.

He stands up moving over to her holding out his hand.

"Dance with me," he says. He hadn't planned this. He's stalling. He's panicking, concern regarding his self control mounting internally. If the kiss comes early all his planning will have been for nothing.

She accepts his hand allowing him to pull her to her feet and steer her around the room.

"I expected you to fight me more," he tells her honestly.

"I struggle with decisions, however, once I've decided on a course of action. I see it through. No holding back. Yes I'm still scared. I'm terrified that I'll fall in love with you and you'll break me," she admits.

"You? Break? You're the strongest person I know," he chuckles.

"Everyone has their weakness. If I stop fighting it and let myself fall. That will be it for me. There will never be the chance to love someone else. I don't know how I know it but us, you and me, we'd be... epic."

She relaxes in his arms. He glances at the clock.

Twenty minutes until Valentine's day.

"Let's go sit," she suggests.

He agrees leading her through the house to the conservatory.

Fifteen minutes until Valentine's day.

They sit on a sofa together. Hermione's thigh presses against his.

"You're not as much of a bastard as you used to be Draco," she says smirking.

"Thanks," he replies uncertainly making her laugh. He can feel her body pressed against his.

Ten minutes to midnight.

He swears this is the longest night of his life. Just ten more minutes and he can finally kiss her.

She straddles him suddenly making him gasp. He slides his hands up and down the thighs now either side of him. Her hands slide into his hair nails scrapping his scalp. She leans in close. Her hair obscures his view of the clock. The chimes. Just has to wait for the chimes.

"This has been a wonderful first date Draco," she breathes against his lips. He's only minutes away until he can close that gap.

What he failed to predict was that Hermione would kiss him first.

The chance to intertwine their magical cores off the record is gone.

Years of planning and preparation undone in a moment.

And yet...

He couldn't care less.

Because Hermione Granger is kissing him.

She's HIS.

As the chimes he'd been waiting for so desperately finish she pulls back from him smirking.

"Happy Valentine's day Draco. Sorry I messed up your ritual plans."

She doesn't look sorry at all.