Hermione hurried through the deserted corridors. The common room had been awfully noisy earlier, so she had found herself an empty classroom on the second floor to do her homework in. In the end, she had been so focused on her Arithmancy essay that she had forgotten the time, and now it was already long past curfew. She prayed she wouldn't meet Filch on her way back. At least I have a good reason, she thought. I wasn't doing anything wrong this time. If he lets me talk to McGonagall… She rounded a corner.
And bumped into something.
Something wearing a black cloak.
Hermione let out a small scream and dropped the pile of books and parchment she was holding. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, Professor!" she said in a rush, kneeling down to reassemble her belongings. "I was doing my homework in another room because it was so noisy in the common room and I forgot the time and-"
She looked up. The hair protruding from under the cloak's hood wasn't black, but blond. The eyes staring down at her weren't dark, but grey.
It was Draco Malfoy.
"and…" Hermione said weakly, trying to finish her sentence and immediately abandoning the attempt.
"Let me help you with these," Malfoy said quietly and bent down to pick up the rest of the books. Hermione stood up slowly, saying nothing.
When Malfoy had finally picked up the last scroll of parchment and had balanced his pile carefully on top of the one Hermione was already holding, she took a step backward, lowering her eyes.
"Draco, I… I'm sorry, but I can't… I…" She flinched as Draco touched her arm.
"It's all right," he said. "There's no one here. I checked."
Hermione sincerely hoped that his "no one" also included cats and ghosts. Especially ghosts. Getting caught out of bed was one thing, but if Nearly Headless Nick told Harry and Ron… She shuddered, and didn't finish the thought.
Thinking was becoming hard anyway. Draco was still standing in front of her, a hand on her arm, a strange, cautious expression on his face. He looked completely different without his usual snobbish demeanour. He looked… more kind. More vulnerable. More handsome.
Hermione shook her head decisively. It was still Malfoy.
A pained look came into his eyes as she took another step back. "Please," he said hoarsely. "Hermione, I-"
"No," she interrupted him as forcefully as she could while whispering. "Draco, we can't. It is too late, we're out of bounds, and if the others find out – Parkinson, Snape, your father…"
"But they won't find out!" Draco said aggressively, taking a step forward. "Filch was drinking earlier, and the Baron says he's sleeping. Mrs. Norris was locked in a cupboard by Peeves, and the ghosts have some sort of… council meeting or whatever. We're safe, Hermione. Please." He said the last word so fervently that Hermione couldn't help but shudder. She lowered her eyes.
And shuddered again as Draco stepped up to her and ran his fingers gently down her neck and along her collarbone.
"Hermione," he whispered hoarsely. "I love you. I'm sick of denying it. I…"
She looked into his eyes as he placed his hands lightly on the line of her jaw and lifted her chin slightly. "I…" he said again, taking a deep breath.
And then he kissed her.
His kiss was timid, hesitant, uncertain – and unbelievably tender. Hermione closed her eyes as he caressed her cheek tentatively. Draco pulled back and looked at her. She was startled to see insecurity in his eyes. If she told him to stop now, he would.
She just couldn't get the words out.
So she looked at him, and her eyes said everything.
At once, Draco's arms were wrapped around her. "What happened to your worries?" he whispered into her ear.
"Just shut up," she whispered back, and then she couldn't say any more, because Draco's lips were on hers again.