Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter related.

So. Another story, and I think this took the shortest time to write out of all of my D/Hr stories. Hmm. Enjoy, though….

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The library. Draco's safe haven, his secret hide-out. He knew nobody would catch him there, since nobody even ventured near the doors.

There was one exception, though.

Hermione Granger sat in a squishy armchair by the window, writing furiously on a parchment roll that was probably already over the maximum requirement.

Draco watched her silently for a moment more, before turning back to the shelf he was browsing. Or pretending to browse, anyway. He furrowed his brow, peering around the corner until curly brown hair became visible again.

"Ah-" with a start, he jumped back and flattened against the wall; Hermione had just glanced up, having heard a slight noise.

Picking a random book from the shelf, Draco casually strolled to an armchair well out of sight of Hermione, and settled down.

Nonverbal Spells, blared the title.

"Could be worse," Draco mumbled, sinking lower into his chair and opening to the first page.

He didn't know when the infatuation started, and really, it was quite alarming. His sudden… fascination… with Hermione Granger concerned him, but not enough to actually… stop.

He flipped a page.

He supposed it started about a month ago, when school started. Seventh year, and Draco's last year at Hogwarts. The 'year of new relationships', as Draco called it. Pansy and Weasley became a couple, and seemed to miraculously fit well together personality-wise. Blaise and Ginny… Theodore and Patil… Merlin, even Potter and Lovegood were seen holding hands. All this caused an unfamiliar ache deep within Draco, and he was annoyed by it's constant presence.

Anyway, he had more classes than usual with Hermione, and things just sort of skyrocketed from there. First came little things, like noticing the way the sun hit her hair and made it different colors, or the way her eyes lit up when she answered a difficult question, or-

Draco sniffed and skipped to the middle of the book, feigning interest in the Why We Use Nonverbal Spells. He wasn't even sure why he was pretending to read; nobody was there.

"Malfoy?"

Mm… that's why.

"Granger," he said to his book. He heard her walk closer to her, and tried to control his raging heart.

That was mad, though. Controlling one's heart is an impossible task.

"Nonverbal spells?" she asked, as if she couldn't help herself. Even with his eyes fixed on the page, he knew she was rolling her eyes. "We learned those last year, Malfoy, in case you forgot."

He finally looked up and locked eyes with her, though immediately regretting that action. After a moment's pause, he sneered, "I can read what I want, Granger."

Hermione looked a little miffed and sat down in the chair beside him. His eyes followed her down, and realizing this, he coughed slightly and turned back to his book.

"Yes, you can," Hermione said carefully, though wrinkling her eyebrows anyway. She pulled out a book of her own, and settled back.

"Granger, do you use that thing for weight exercising or something? It's bigger than you are," Draco couldn't help but say. He glanced away inconspicuously again and promised to himself that he would stay silent, for fear of embarrassing himself.

"Sometimes," Hermione laughed, and he swallowed. "It's quite bothersome," she admitted. "Though it's very interesting."

He nodded, eyes glued to the next chapter of his book.

Hermione nodded as well, and started to read her hefty book, eyes moving rapidly across the page.

When did they become so friendly? Draco sighed to himself, running a hand tiredly through his hair. They used to be such enemies. They hated each other, and now they were actually holding a civil conversation.

It was the war. After the war, everything changed, Draco thought. Everything.

"Say, Malfoy," Hermione said, looking up from her reading. "I never did ask you why you were sitting in the library on a gorgeous Saturday morning."

Draco stared at the shelves in front of him silently. "It's comforting." Well, there goes that.

"Hmm?" Hermione's eyes widened, apparently not foreseeing that as an answer.

Flushing slightly, Draco said heatedly, "Is there something wrong with that?"

"I-no-" Hermione started, looking awkward.

"Well, it isn't," Draco fumed. This wasn't good. He was getting too mad.

"Sorry. I just meant that it didn't seem like you," Hermione flared up, shooting daggers at him with her eyes.

Dammit. Now she's mad too. Calm down, Draco.

"What doesn't seem like me? Not spending the day cursing first years? Not trying to Avada Kedavra everyone in sight? How about-" Draco rambled, silver sparks bursting from his wand tip, before Hermione cut through.

"Well excuse me, and that's not what I meant either!"

"Shut up, Granger, I know you think I'm some evil Death Eater bastard, but that doesn't mean you can-"

"I don't think you're a Death Eater, but you are a bast-"

"Well you can keep your opinions to yourself, now-"

"So can you, Mr. 'I'm-so-cool-I-insult-everyone-and-anyone-"

"Stop interrupting me!"

Hermione breathed hard through her nose, half-risen from her chair, while Draco bared his teeth at her, fists clenched so hard his knuckles were whiter than usual. The silence stretched on uncomfortably, before Hermione sank down on her chair again and pulled her book towards her.

"I'm sorry." The words were blunt and full of pain, forced from Draco's lips.

Hermione glanced up, a shocked expression on her face.

"What?"

Draco considered the possibility of starting another argument based on her face, but decided against that, thinking he'd get nowhere with it.

"I'm… sorry. I- have to go." He changed his words last minute, tossing his book in the general direction of the shelves. He stood up abruptly and started to walk away, snarling to himself.

"Wait-" Hermione grabbed at his arm, but he deftly avoided her thin fingers and turned the corner.

"Malfoy, stop being a stubborn git and get back here!"

He paused, one foot stretched ahead of him.

"I'd rather not," he called, and a tiny smirk played on his face, quite against his will. He suddenly found their conversation/yelling match amusing.

"Well, then, wait for me," he heard her faintly say, and though it was soft, he swore he could hear a smile.

She turned the corner as well, and Draco felt his mouth dry. Why did she want him to wait for her? She brushed her hair out of her face, and looked him in the eyes, opening her mouth to say something.

"Mal-"

"Granger. I have something to say, and I'm only going to say it once."

"Now who's interrupting?" she scoffed, but held her tongue.

He flashed a shaky grin, and looked over her shoulder, not quite meeting her brown eyes. "I know things have changed. A lot. And… well, I think I've changed too. So all I'm asking, is for you to give me a chance."

"A chance?" she raised her eyebrows.

"A chance," he echoed, and gently took her hand. "That's all I'm asking."

Hermione's eyes opened wide and she took a step back, but Draco held on to her hand. He turned and strolled out the doors, tugging Hermione along behind him.

"That may be a possibility."

Draco grinned, and glanced over his shoulder at her. Two red spots were on her cheeks, and her eyes were bright.

"Thank you. That's in my vocabulary too, you know," he added, when Hermione stared at him.

She punched him lightly. "Come on, Draco. It's beautiful out."

He laughed.

Laughed, for the first time since his mother became addicted to alcohol. Since he watched his father being tortured, and then killed. Since his life as he knew it fell apart at the seams, and the pieces were too hard to put back together.

However, maybe with her help, the pieces would find a way to mend back together by themselves.

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So! Hello again. Was it good? Okay? Horrible? Terrifyingly hair-rising BAD?

*cough* Anyway… I do hope you liked it, but if you didn't, no harm.

:)