Everything except the storyline belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Hermione had been surprised the first time she had seen Draco in the hallways of the Ministry. Last thing she knew he was gallivanting around Europe and America, just like he had been doing for the last 5 years, with occasional visits to the manor to boss people around.
They had struck up a pleasant conversation when they had greeted each other. This had surprised her even more. He had still been an arrogant, stuck up, pain in the ass, but there were no sneers nor any snide remarks. He had actually seemed nice.
The second time they crossed each other was in the middle of Diagon Alley. She had a day of and was enjoying some all-round shopping whereas he apparently was returning from some business at Gringotts. He had offered to treat her to some ice cream and she had gladly accepted. It was a warm day after all. They ended up talking for over an hour, the conversation had flowed easily.
After that day they had started meeting more often. To her astonishment he suggested venturing out in muggle London. She had realised it was mainly to avoid the press, but the fact that he actually knew a few good muggle restaurants was surprising nevertheless. They would go out for tea, diner or drinks or visit each other at home. They talked about the latest news, political or otherwise, or discussed various academic topics.
In fact Draco had invited her to come over to the Manor later this day to discuss an article in an arithmancy journal. To their delight they had discovered they both had a profound interest in it and a vast knowledge about it. However, Hermione was doubting about going.
The last couple of weeks she had noticed her friendly feelings had started to grow into something more than just friendship, and she did not know how to deal with it. She had been debating herself about whether or not to tell him. In the end she had decided that was the only correct course of action but now she was chickening out.
An alarm went off, notifying her it was three in the afternoon, time to leave. She heaved a sigh and amassed her Gryffindor courage. Throwing a pinch of floo powder in the fireplace she called out for Malfoy Manor and gracefully walked into the parlour of the grand mansion. Draco was already waiting for her.
"Granger," he greeted her.
He had never stopped calling her that, no matter how often she told him to call her Hermione.
"Draco," she replied.
He led the way to one of the many cosy sitting rooms.
"You want something to drink?" he asked, moving to the cabinet at the end of the room. "Some wine perhaps?"
"Do you have anything stronger?" she replied, still feeling nervous about her resolve to come clean with him. "A brandy perhaps?"
He glanced at her, surprised, but shrugged and poured her a glass. He handed it to her and went to get the arithmancy journal. She took a big gulp from the liquor.
"Have you read the article?" Draco asked when he returned. He gave it to Hermione.
"Yes," she said. But other than opening the journal she placed it and her glass on the cabinet on her right.
Draco looked at her funnily.
"Draco," she started, "I, uhm, there is something I have to tell you and you're not going to like it."
He pulled up an eyebrow and placed his glass next to hers. She hesitated.
"Well," he said, "spit it out."
"I, uhm, it's, well, Merlin," she stuttered.
She looked into his cool grey eyes. His eyes had always mesmerized them, they were so unique. She bit her lip and quickly looked down.
"I really enjoy your company and friendship, but I must admit that my feelings for you have started to grow somewhat beyond mere friendship."
She could taste blood, she was biting her lip a tad bit too hard. Afraid to look up at him she studied her shoes. When she couldn't stand the silence anymore she spoke again.
"I'm sorry. I feel like I'm betraying our friendship here but I can't help what I feel. If you want to terminate our friendship after this I fully understand. I've been on the receiving end of this situation as well and I know it's unpleasant. However, if you could live with it, I would much enjoy to continue our friendship. I promise to supress these feelings as best as I can and not act on them. I just thought you should know, that is only fair."
It all came out a bit rushed but she thought she had gotten her point across. She was waiting for him to say something, yell at her, tell her to leave, anything, but he stayed silent.
Eventually he reached out with his hand and caressed her cheek.
Hermione's head shot up. "What are you doing?"
He smiled at her. "Caressing your cheek."
"I know, but why?"
"Because Hermione,"
He stepped closer, their body's and faces mere inches apart. She could feel the heat coming of his body and smell his cologne. How she loved that smell. A shiver ran down her spine as his fingers once more brushed over her cheek.
"Because Hermione," he repeated, "you are not the only one."
Her eyes widened as Draco lowered his head and firmly planted his lips on hers. It was as if the contact caused an eruption. The kiss immediately grew frantic, passionate. Her hands were buried in his hair, pulling at it, while his were under her shirt, going up and down her back and pulling her closer.
He pushed her back towards the sofa and they practically fell down into it. He landed on top of her but made sure he didn't crush her with his weight. As he leaned on one elbow he cupped her cheek with the other, never breaking the kiss. He pushed his knee between her legs and she immediately reacted by slightly arching her back. His kisses followed her jaw, traced down her neck, across her collar bone and to the top of her cleavage. She pulled him up again for another heated kiss. Eventually they both had to come up for air.
"Wow!" Hermione breathed.
"Wow indeed," Draco agreed, grinning at her.
He eased himself off of her and to the side. They looked at each other.
"And here I was, thinking you were going to throw me out," Hermione joked.
"How long?" Draco asked.
Hermione looked bewildered. "How long what?"
"How long have you been having these feelings? When did it change?"
"Uhm, a couple of weeks," she answered shyly.
"The Werewolf debate?" he asked.
"Yes actually," she replied, surprised.
"Me to," he said, "you were looking so fierce, so strong and so beautiful."
He kissed her softly, languidly as she blushed at his compliment. The arithmancy journal was forgotten for a long time.