Hermione Granger has a habit that just won't die hard.

It's not that this habit is unacceptable in the Wizarding World—like Mr. Weasley's habit of hoarding every Muggle contraption he can get his hands on—or unacceptable in her society's norm—like Ron's inability to eat in public with proper social grace intact.

It's not exactly embarrassing either, unlike Neville's affinity for mindlessly mumbling on and on until his face flushes a bright pink, or George's incessant need to tell obscene jokes while they eat breakfast on Sundays.

This habit doesn't include anything physically incapacitating, not like Harry's hero complex that God, one day, one day I swear, you will get yourself killed Harry and I will not be there to pick up your obliterated arse, swear to Merlin.

But this habit does include a certain person named Draco Malfoy.

It doesn't really matter—the place, the time, the situation, the amount of people that can see them—as long as the tingling Hermione feels in the tips of her fingers are relieved by the silky sensation of Draco's hair running like watery, silvery sunlight through her hands.

It doesn't really help that Draco leans into the warmth of Hermione's hand whenever they card through his locks. (Hermione still can't help but stifle a gasp whenever she elicits this reaction from the ever so stoic Draco.)

It's a habit that Hermione couldn't even control, to the point that it's already an everyday occurrence: Hermione sits in one corner of the library, Draco sits on the farthest table from Hermione, near the windows overlooking the Quidditch pitch. Their eyes meet, Hermione stands up, makes her way to where Draco is, and sits down next to him. Hermione raises a hand, Draco tilts his head an eighth of a degree towards Hermione, and Hermione buries her fingers in long, white blond hair as Draco closes his eyes, contentment easing over his normally morbid-serious face.

Hermione has a habit that just won't die.

But, maybe she's not alone, she thinks, as Draco burrows his head deeper into the crook of Hermione's neck, mewling sleepily as Hermione sifts through his hair.

Maybe Draco has a habit that just won't die, too.


Author's Note: thought i'd post a fluff drabble for once^^