Out of the numerous novels on the bookshelf, Hermione could not find one she was interested in reading. Her hands ran over the spines, the tops, the pages yet still she was not allured. There was over a million books in the Hogwarts library and yet she could not find one that she had not read before.
Hermione was not in the search for a dictionary or a Hogwarts: A History biography but an actual substantial novel. Not that dictionaries or a biography on Hogwarts weren't substantial novels, she just wanted something more, an adventure, a romance... a tragedy even. She peered a little harder but nothing came to her avail.
She sat exhausted from her search of a substantial novel. Running her hands through her hair, she just exhaled and closed her eyes. She then heard a voice… not speaking to her but to someone else… in the far corner of the library. He was laughing and she had no idea why. She knew exactly who this boy was and he was not the type of boy to laugh… at least not in a library.
She opened her eyes slowly and only a little, just enough to confirm her suspicion. In the far corner of the library sat Draco Malfoy… however, he sat alone. And then, Hermione saw it and her eyes widened at the realization. The book she was looking for was in Malfoy's hands. He was gripping the canvas-bound novel, engrossed in its' splendor. Hermione could not shake the thought of Malfoy reading such a novel. She decided to take a closer look from a few tall bookshelves ahead of her. She slowly… and quietly, tiptoed behind a bookshelf two rows before Malfoy.
A plant was blocking her view of the spine of the novel, so she tiptoed a little closer, but only a little. She peered harder and sadly, her suspicion was confirmed. He was reading the exact novel she had a dire desire to possess. She leaned over the bookshelf and peered over the tops of the numerous novels. And she leaned closer and closer, engrossed in the moment of Malfoy giggling at the pages of a romance novel, a Jane Austen novel.
The tiniest creak was heard and Malfoy closed the book, his finger remaining within the pages as a marker. His eyes scanned the room and saw no one. Hermione, during this entire ordeal, leaned on the bookshelf behind her. She had stepped away from the bookshelf just in case he was to scan the area on foot. However, he didn't and she was forever grateful.
On the other side of the bookshelf was Neville Longbottom, scanning the spines for anything Herbology related. He really had loved Professor Sprout's theory on the use of the fig plant as a base ingredient in an extremely complicated potion she had been working on with Professor Snape to help reduce the possibility of long-term illness.
Unfortunately, Neville was unaware that Hermione Granger was in the row ahead of him, otherwise the possibility of her falling would've been slim to none. Neville had his eyes set on one leather-bound novel from the 18th century… or so it seemed, in the middle of the shelf. He squeezed it out from the shelf and started to delve into its' theories and conclusions of fig plants. As he perused the novels' entirety, he paced a few steps ahead and ran into Hermione straight on, thus causing her to fall into the bookshelf. And as she was falling, she heard the shelf sway here and there, the rustling of the pages… and she heard herself cry out, "No!" as the shelf collapsed to the floor under her. And who else would be in front of her other than the same Draco Malfoy she had been staring down earlier.
Hermione bit her tongue in order to keep herself from saying anything she would soon regret. After she had dusted herself off and looked all around her, she heard his voice.
"Granger, you stupid mudblood! What, in the name of Merlin, is wrong with you?"
Her eyes were still peering down at the novels below her, her feet hidden under a sea of about five hundred novels. Hermione quivered at how she would even think to reply to this inquiry. Would she tell him that she wanted the novel he tossed onto the floor? No. She must lie.
"I… I… I was looking for a novel on Hogwarts…" she stuttered, thinking at the top of her head.
He looked at her with quizzical brow.
"Granger, you're lying… and you're a bloody bad at it. The History section is on the opposite side of the library."
He stood pompous and triumphant, aware that Hermione was up to something… and he was more than willing to find out exactly what she was doing.
She stood wide-eyed at the Slytherin; fully aware that she had indeed made things worse subsequently she had just the right response.
"You ignorant fool. I'm looking for people of Hogwarts… thus a biography."
He chuckled.
"Well, you're standing in the right pile of books then.
She flushed with embarrassment.
"What about you? I know some pretty embarrassing things, ferret."
He shuffled and continued to look at her as though she was in fact 'a stupid mudblood.'
"Hermione, you know little of me. What, in the name of Merlin, could you have against me?"
She cocked her eyebrow and smirked.
"I know you read Jane Austen."
And now it was his turn to stare wide-eyed at the Gryffindor; fully aware of the damage she could cause him. However, in a split second, he continued to act casual and not make a scene, which was not so hard to accomplish since there happened to be no one in the library. Funny that Madam Pince would take such a long lunch break and forget to lock the door behind her.
He replied with a mere 'So?' and left Hermione quite frazzled.
"So?" she said exaggeratedly, "So, if anyone hears of this, they will all laugh at your face. You don't care about your reputation, Mr. Malfoy?"
Her eyebrow cocked up again and she stood glaring at him with a hand on her hip.
Draco had every impulse to strangle Granger there but he wouldn't. Instead, he would offer a proposition.
"Granger, you and I are not so different. We're both intelligent people only I'm a better liar. I could easily persuade everyone that in fact you were spying on me because you have some mad crush since your first year for me. However, I am willing to oblige. Share the novel with me."
He picked the novel up off the ground and handed it to her.
"Why in the name of Merlin would you want to share with me?" Hermione retorted.
"Granger, I am pretty sure that you do not harbor secret amorous feelings for me, trust me, I've made sure of it. Why else would you be peering through a bookshelf other than to want the novel that I possess?"
Hermione held her head up and looked at him quizzically, "If I share this novel, am I going to regret it later?"
"Not as much as I will regret lugging that dumb oaf around."
He pointed to the floor to remind dear Hermione of the cause of all the trouble.
"Merlin, is he unconscious?"
"Appears so." Draco replied.
Hermione knelt down to the book-blanketed boy and placed her head against his chest.
"Well… he's alive."
Draco shook his head in shock.
"Granger, people don't die from bumping into others. Why are you so stupid today, I mean more than normal?"
Hermione continued to glare up at him and then stood up, face inches from his.
"Just give me the damn novel and I'll be on my way."
"Feisty aren't we, Granger?" he smirked.
She huffed and held her hand out.
"Wait a bloody moment; I have to put my marker on the page I was reading."
He went to the table, ripped a corner of parchment, and scribbled on it. After placing it on his page, he handed the novel to Hermione.
"Thank you!" she retorted again and started to walk away.
However, only a few paces ahead she turned around and looked at Malfoy.
"What are we going to do about Neville?"
Draco chuckled.
"He won't remember a thing."
"Draco! We really should get him out of here before Madam Pince gets back."
Draco looked at her bewildered.
"Like you or I could carry him. Look at him he's an oaf. And besides, I left my wand in my dorm room."
"By Bloody Baron's beard, how could you be so stupid?"
He merely shook his head and walked off.
"Draco! Draco!"
With her hand on her hip, she merely called out, "I can't lift him by myself..."
She muttered to herself, "On all the days to forget my wand in class, this just has to be it."
She quickly said sorry to Neville and then tiptoed out of the library and went back to the common rooms. She placed her hands over the canvas-bound novel and sighed. Finally, in her hands, she had Pride and Prejudice. She was always a fan of Jane Austen yet she never had the time to read her works. But now, she had the time. Since Hermione had such a high academic stature, she was rewarded half of every school day to herself, to study, read, or whatever she liked. And so, she started to read.
Hermione was in the middle of the novel when Ronald and Harry had bounced in from the corridor. She had spent two hours numb in her chair. They, as she presumed, had been looking for her.
"'Mione! We've been looking for you for ages. Have you been here this whole time?" Harry asked, sitting down on the sofa opposite of Hermione.
"Pretty much." She said smiling.
Ron set his books to the floor and sat next to her, "Whatcha' been doing?"
He smiled and made a face at her.
"Reading, you prat!" she replied.
Harry chuckled.
"Well come on, we're hungry and we've got loads to tell you!"
Hermione put a slip of paper as a marker and put it on her bed in the girls' dormitories. Afterwards, she followed the boys into the Great Hall. Turns out, they really didn't have loads to tell her.
--
Draco was silent on his walk back from the library. No, it wasn't from any pang of guilt for leaving Hermione to deal with Neville. He was quite in raptures at hearing her call his name in full despair and desperation. However, it was not because of that. He was silent only for the mere fact that he had taken his whole and entire
future at Hogwarts in a full, clenching grasp. He now controlled what he had so longingly desired to. And soon, his plan would unravel and he would be glorious.
But for now, Draco, complete in any thoughts of his plan, let his mind take him somewhere else, his feet too. He was walking to the Slytherin common room where Pansy would be waiting for him… again and he would push her aside… again. In some ways, he felt bad for pushing her aside. He knew her attraction for him was merely out of lust. She didn't know him enough to actually like him. She only wanted him for the attention it would arouse from other students. And he couldn't blame her, he did attract a lot of attention being Lucius Malfoy's son and Professor Snape's favorite.
His head collapsed against the pillow. He had made a record time at avoiding Ms. Parkinson and since she could not come up the stairs thanks to those marvelous little spells in place, Draco was allowed to have a few more moments to himself, or at least until his stomach would start growling for food. His hands ruffled through his hair in pure excitement at the thought of his plan.
He thought, And the best thing is that Granger doesn't even know it yet.
It all started when Draco was walking past the library one Tuesday. Hermione was occupied in the library, reading and then frenetically scribbling on parchment and then propping her head up to start the cycle again. It was obvious that she was in some type of frenzy. And strangely enough, Draco couldn't look away. Little did he know that in this moment, his greatest plan would arise.
But now, he was having second thoughts. He never really figured what would happen if she knew. And suddenly as the strings of his plan began to tie together in his head, a look of horror swept over his face. And Draco only had so long to act upon it. Draco quickly stood up from his bed and walked down to the common room and out the corridor without uttering a single word.
--
Hermione was tired of talking about nothing and instead anticipated the completion of the Jane Austen novel. It had gripped her in so many ways. The relationships between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, and Jane and Mr. Bingley, were compelling. And as her mind reeled into this fascination, she realized she just had to finish reading the novel… now. She quickly finished her dinner and said goodbye to Harry and Ron, whom were in deep conversation about quidditch and such.
Making her way from the Great Hall, she climbed up three flights of stairs to the Gryffindor common room where to her surprise and dismay, stood Draco Malfoy waiting for her.
"You have got some real nerve, you know that? Showing up here after not helping me with Neville."
He scoffed.
"Granger, just stop lying. I already told you, you're bloody bad at it."
Smirking, she replied, "So why are you here? What do you want?"
"I would like to finish the novel, Granger. Why else would I visit you? You're bad for my health."
She rolled her eyes and just thought, Of course, right when I want to read it, he wants it.
"Don't they have another copy of Pride & Prejudice elsewhere?"
He laughed.
"Granger, you know as well as I do that they don't."
She rolled her eyes again and walked into the Gryffindor common room, Draco following behind her. No one was in the common room to her delight. All were still dining in the Great Hall.
She walked up to the dormitories slowly and retrieved the novel from her bedside table. Walking down the stairs with a disheveled manner, she handed him the book.
"Don't fold the pages, it ruins the book." Hermione stated matter-of-factly.
"Well unlike you, Granger, I do not carry a piece of parchment with me everywhere I go."
Hermione merely scoffed and looked away, obviously annoyed.
"Thank you. You can expect it back in an hour or two."
Draco turned to leave but then stopped and turned his head to the side.
"Don't worry about going to the Slytherin common room. You would not be welcome. And I presume you have prefect duties tonight… I will give it to you then."
And with that, Draco walked back out into the corridor and down a few flight of stairs to the dungeons. However, he did not want to endure another attack from Ms. Parkinson so instead he conjured a couch and read silently by the light of a nearby torch.
Hermione on the other hand, still disheveled and with a face of pure contempt, walked back up the stairs to her dormitories and took a rest for as Draco said, she did in fact had prefect duties.
After reading to the end of the novel, Draco pulled out the single ripped piece of parchment he stuck in the novel earlier, the single ripped piece of parchment that controlled his entire future at Hogwarts. If he was to leave it within the novel, Hermione would know, and that would be the end of it. And whatever happened afterwards was out of his control. It seemed so terrifying to Draco to know what this could mean for him. But then he thought of the happiness that could result from it and the pure joy of having something real for once. Draco shifted his eyes from the parchment and the novel and then took a deep breath. With his eyes closed, Draco quickly placed the parchment within the pages and the back cover of the novel and then closed the book.
Sighing heavily, he lifted himself from the couch and waved it away with a flick of his wand. He made sure to take rapid steps back up to the Gryffindor common room, as it would reduce his chances of not going through with his grand plan. However, he realized on his third staircase that Hermione would not be in the Gryffindor common rom. She had prefect duties.
He sighed and muttered, "Of course,"
The Slytherin then looked at his watch. It was 9:22. 9:22, 9:22, what floor would Hermione be on?
Prefect duties normally began at 8:30 and now that it was nearly 9:30, she would just be finishing up on the second floor. Draco whimpered and slumped back down the stairs.
--
Hermione walked around the corridor with a blank expression on her face. Why couldn't Hogwarts just have one of those muggle security systems? Surely, wizards must have better, more advanced security systems.
She walked up to a nearby portrait and let her lighted wand hang to her side so as to not wake any of the paintings. It was a pretty portrait, to say the least, of the school during the winter holiday. The windows all alit from ever-burning candles and snow blanketing the castle in all the right places. After, she turned a corner and ran straight into some moving object, she expected it to be Malfoy and of course, she was correct.
"Why hello, ferret. Thanks for not lighting your wand," Hermione said while dusting herself off for the second time that day.
Draco pulled himself up off the floor, ran a hand through his hair, and merely snickered.
"Thought you could use some reading." He stated, handing the book to her as he did so.
She sighed, "You have no idea."
Draco didn't really plan on sticking around after giving her the novel. He wanted her to finish reading it without any words from him. It would be so much more dramatic.
"Well… I've got to get going and I know it saddens you to see me go but you must remember that I have something of a reputation to uphold," He chuckled.
"Oh bugger off. You are completely conceited aren't you?"
He tilted his head and made a face, "… Yeah, pretty much."
Hermione merely rolled her eyes and walked off, leaving Draco like a shadow in the dark.
--
Anxious and craving, Hermione opened the novel to her marker and continued to read, casually bumping into chairs and doors along the way.
Draco, on the other hand, was trembling, nervous, and had quite a temptation to vomit from where he stood. But no matter what he felt, it was already done. There was no going back.
Hermione finished the last corridor within record time, it might have been because she was reading and not inspecting every corner, or perhaps just in a hurry, however either way Hermione couldn't wait to get into bed. And the boys wouldn't be there to bother her; they would be fast asleep by now.
She was nearly in the middle between the middle and the end of her novel. She was so deep within the novel; she just had to finish it tonight. And so, that was what she did, reading the last word at 1:46 AM. Hermione hugged the novel in pure joy and for once felt quite in love with Mr. Darcy.
Her hand paused at the last page, wishing there was more to read. Although she knew the novel was entirely finished, she couldn't help but turn a few extra pages just in case. Instead, she found something else, something else entirely.
Placed in between the pages and the back cover was a note with only three written words. Funny, how those three written words would change everything.
On the note, in simple boyish handwriting, was, I want you.
It was so subtle and yet so to the point, she couldn't help but to be impressed. She knew who wrote it but couldn't find herself to grasp the idea of him wanting her. Could it be?
Her smile faded as she thought of him. He is nothing but a selfish, arrogant, pompous, bigheaded prat.
However, something within her made her question such accusations.
Her head suddenly sprung up. That was his intention… he didn't know how to say it so he wrote it in the best romance novel of all time… Oh my God, he wrote it in this novel because he knew I would understand… He's Mr. Darcy… And I'm Elizabeth.
"Oh my god," Hermione whispered shocked and wide-eyed.
It was like she was stuck in time, her mind reeling all those weird moments between them. The novel, the library, the corridor conversations… It all made sense.
"Draco Malfoy likes me…," she whispered dumbfounded.
But the question was, Did she like him?
She paused. She must admit she was flirting with him quite a lot over these past few days.
Wait. Was she going out of her mind? What would Harry and Ron think? They would never approve.
She shook her head of any thoughts, grabbed a piece of parchment, and scribbled down the first thought that came to her mind. She then placed it between the front cover and the pages of the novel.
Sighing, she placed the novel on her bedside table then brushed her teeth and went to bed, not that she could sleep or anything.
Four stairs down, Draco couldn't sleep also. She must think I'm crazy…
He turned to his stomach and laid his face down in the pillow in attempt to suffocate himself, however was to no avail.
--
Hermione still laid awake as she heard fellow Gryffindors throw themselves within their sheets, trying to squeeze in a few more minutes of sleep. She couldn't sleep; she had become an insomniac… well at least for today. Draco was wide-awake also; however, he had been pacing the dungeon common room for quite some time now, the rug showing every imprint from the soles of his feet.
Hermione forced herself from her bed and into a cold shower. She was going to go through with it. She was going to give him the book and…
Oh no, she thought, I can't just give it to him during Potions, everyone will see. Wait… okay, just act like nothing was discovered until tonight then you can just give him the book back when he's alone. He has prefect duties tonight… Perfect!
Hermione's mood brightened throughout the day, pretending she didn't know Draco had a crush on her was easier than she thought. She had felt his eyes staring at her, waiting for her to say something, but still she kept her head tilted straight, pretending to pay attention to Professor Flitwick talk on more advanced levitation spells. And that was how it would be until 10:00 that following night.
--
Draco's day, however, was filled with constant nerves and sudden urges to vomit, the same exact feelings he had last night. His day moved slowly and was continuously filled with regret and then sudden joyous images to, hopefully, future memories. He was sure she hadn't read the end yet. Otherwise, she would've acted completely different… either in benefit or detriment to Draco's plan.
He had prefect duties tonight and he was hoping that she would've read them by then. Hopefully, she'd have an answer in the morning. Just waiting alone was killing him.
--
Hermione readied herself. Her breathing, steady; her heart, pounding; her smile, wavering. What would she say? How would he react? She could only guess. She walked down the stairs with shaking hands, the canvas-bound novel ready to fall to the floor. She hugged it to her chest in order to keep her hands from shaking. Harry and Ron had noticed that she was quite frazzled but she had waved it off. For once, she didn't want their advice.
She slipped through the portrait door and out into the corridor. Draco should be on the… what floor?
Hermione started mumbling, trying to sort her thoughts out, talking and walking at the same time. In the very same corridor stood Draco, watching her silently. His smirk was unmistakable and he knew that she had read the end. Her hands were running through her hair and she was muttering his name. He didn't know if this should be taken as good news or bad but he loved the way she looked right now. He loved when Hermione looked completely clueless.
"Hermione?" he whispered, "Are you okay?"
She stopped in mid-mutter. Her eyes widened. Her head, which was facing the floor, slowly rose and looked at him in complete horror.
"He-he-hell-hello-he-hello." Hermione stuttered.
She then chuckled, "Sorry. I meant to just say hello once."
She looked at him, red and obviously embarrassed.
"It's fine," He replied, smiling.
She looked nervous, which he thought was absolutely adorable.
"I have the book for you… although you already finished it, didn't you?"
He smiled.
"There was one part I didn't read…," he replied
She smiled and handed him the novel. Something in her eyes told him to open the novel and so he did.
You're crazy.
The smile on his face fell, his heart plummeted, and still she smirked. She then motioned him to flip the parchment over and so again, he did.
I want you too.
Her smirk expanded into a smile and he was lost for words.
"Well aren't we just the liar, liar?"
She tilted her head, smirking, and took a step toward him, her eyes on his. He dropped the book, forgetting it was ever in his hands. Running his fingers along the sides of her face, he lost himself within the moment and soon enough they were kissing. Funny, Hermione didn't picture herself making out with a Slytherin who called her a mudblood on a daily basis but then again, who would?
For Draco, he couldn't explain how it all happened but if he could, it would go something like this:
What he never said was when he wanted to strangle her, he wanted to strangle her into an embrace, or when he called her a 'mudblood', he really meant to call her, 'love.' Somehow, over the years all these little things added up and now, he found himself quite in raptures with her. No, he wouldn't call it love but it felt stronger than just liking her, maybe it was him just really liking her. He would only word his love to her with sarcasm and wit so he could keep it only to himself. Love made people weak and he knew, that someday, he would be weak for Hermione. She had such a hold over him, like some puppet. Still, he found himself in delight at the thought of her and the way she held herself during their petty arguments.
For once, he didn't want to control anything. He just wanted her and only her. And strangely, it didn't bother him not knowing what would happen; instead, he embraced it with open arms.