AN: This one-shot is a gift for the awesome beta LumosLyra who has been my cheerleader since day one of our partnership.
To endless summers, breathless possibilities and missed opportunities.
…
The warmth of summer had finally stretched up to Scotland and the lake stretched crystal blue waves between luscious green shores. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Technically, it was still early summer and months and months of lazy sun stretched ahead - well, as lazy as Hermione could ever allow herself to be, anyway.
"What are you thinking about?" Harry asked, catching up to her. She'd left the three boys bickering about whether or not Ron's new clothes - the first he'd bought in years - were stylish or not. They were a shade of red which clashed horrifically with his hair but Hermione barely noticed anything these days.
She glanced at Harry and sighed. "Whether or not I'm ever going to get you three to revise," she admitted, pulling a sheaf of papers from her bag and rifling through them. "Well, that's not fair," she mused, plucking a paper from the stack. "Draco at least pulls his weight."
"What are you saying about my weight, Granger?" growled a voice from behind. Hermione giggled and handed Draco his colour-coded revision timetable for the day. Since they were in all the same classes, she just duplicated her own and substituted quidditch practice in the evenings where hers was reserved for reading.
Combing his fingers through his blonde hair, Draco scanned the paper, before nodding sharply. He drew the strapless face of a watch from the pocket of his robes and tapped it against the timetable. It chirped and he shot Hermione a grin. "You're a delight."
Somehow he made the words sound almost like an insult but Hermione knew now that this Draco, the new Draco, never said anything he didn't mean. Unlike Ron or Harry, he cared about his studies. Cared about them enough to undergo her demanding study schedule in order to excel, though she suspected his end goal was to see how many NEWTs he could outperform her in. The pure-blooded wizard was innately competitive and took great pride in being able to answer any of the questions she could - without waving his hand in the air.
"Why don't you try pushing those on us anymore?" Ron asked, pulling open a Chocolate Frog. Mrs Weasley had sent him an exam care package last week which had been almost overflowing with sweets, and contained tucked away in an envelope the two galleons to spend on new clothing. Poor Errol had struggled under its weight as he bobbed through the Great Hall.
Ron caught the chocolate frog between two fingers as it bounced out of the package, struggling to escape.
"Because she's found a more sophisticated audience who appreciates her talent for organising," Draco drawled, throwing a lump of blanket from his bag onto the green grass and rolling it out with a flick of his wand. "So she doesn't need to waste her time on cretins who decide crimson goes with maroon."
Hermione hid her smile behind the back of her hand as she watched Draco's picnic blanket unfurling itself along the grass. They exchanged a quiet, amused glance, her eyes crinkling with pleasure.
"Hey!" Ron said, crossing his arms over his chest, giving up on deciphering Draco's words while the chocolate frog wiggled between his fingers, leaving melted smears of chocolate across his palm. "She would never say she was wasting time on us."
"Of course not." Hermione sat down on the blanket as she replied, tilting her head up to embrace the sun's rays as they spilled over her face and arms. "He's just trying to get a reaction, Ron."
Harry shrugged and pulled out his potion's textbook from his bag.
"So why didn't you make us the clock things?" Ron pushed, still towering above her.
"Because I knew you'd blow them off!" Realising that he wasn't going to let her enjoy the few minutes before the first time block began, she pulled out her Charms textbook and cracked it open over her knees, a quill and paper hovering at her elbow as Ron finally stuffed the Chocolate Frog into his mouth. She had been perfecting that spell for weeks over the Christmas break, and now writing on the levitating page felt almost the same as writing on a desk; firm and supportive.
She'd promised to teach it to Malfoy if he managed to get Professor McGonagall to pay him a compliment in Transfigurations.
Hermione burrowed herself into her note taking, feeling the watch around her wrist warm slightly as the first pomodoro began.
"Ugh, I wish we could go for a swim." Ron complained. He hadn't even sat down yet, Hermione noticed, pulling herself with difficulty back to the three wizards surrounding her.
"What?" She blinked.
"It's a lovely day, we have practically all of it free. Why not go for a swim? Harry, are you in?"
"I can't, Ron. You know I have to finish this essay for Snape!"
"Professor Snape." Hermione and Draco chorused. Another secret glance passed between the two.
...
The day passed gently, Harry and Ron leaving the studious pair several times in search of more interesting ways to spend their time rather than adhering to the timetable Hermione had set for them. Hermione feared, in the few seconds she allowed herself in-between furious note-taking, that they had somehow become addicted to the thrill of hunting down Horcruxes and duelling with Voldemort and his Death Eaters - that they would never be able to settle down and instead long for the thrill of adventure.
It was possible but right now there was nothing she could do about it, so she put it firmly out of her mind.
The watch on her wrist went cold as ice for a few seconds and she gently closed her book and eyes, leaning back against the old oak tree.
"Draco," she mumbled, toying with the fraying cover of the book on her knees.
"Yes?" he answered, his voice soft and gentle. It was like he'd become a different person over the last two years, shedding the insecure bravado that had for so long been wrapped around him for a mature, kind core.
Recently, when it had been just the two of them as it was now, a strangle, crinkly pressure had formed between them. Hermione felt it keenly but she tried her best to ignore it. It was a distraction from her studies and acknowledging that she might have a crush on the Malfoy heir was not going to get her any closer to sweeping a set of Outstandings on her NEWTs.
"I still have my potions essay to finish editing."
Draco snorted. "Really?"
"Yes!" She opened her eyes to see his face shining with incredulity.
"Granger, I read your essay on the impact of using tripedal pixie wings in a nerve repairing potion two weeks ago. It was perfect and a foot over the length Professor Snape asked for."
Hermione shifted uncomfortably. What he was saying wasn't exactly untruthful, but…
"Last week, I found another source in the Restricted Section which proves that the wings have an adverse effect when mixed with powdered unicorn tail. If I don't include that into the essay, I can't talk about the fact that it would make an excellent-"
"Granger," the blonde boy growled. Hermione blinked up to find him staring arrogantly down at her, steely eyes challenging her. "Stop it. The essay is fine. Professor Snape won't increase your score if you manage to squeeze in that reference and you know it."
Hermione swallowed, weighing his words. He might be right. Hermione could use the time on practising the charm she was trying to develop for copying chunks of text into her journal, or more usefully on Transfiguration homework.
But she couldn't rest knowing her submission was incomplete. It was going to eat at her until she added that reference and the justification.
Just as Hermione's hand reached into her bag for the curling, ink-covered parchment, Draco leapt up.
"Weasley was right," he declared, "time for a swim."
The watch thrummed on Hermione's wrist, a warm pressure that meant another twenty-five minute stretch of studying was upon them. She looked up at Draco, all silver and ice in the summer sun, and down at her lap.
"Don't be ridiculous," she chided, releasing a long-suffering sigh. "I don't have time, and besides, I don't have a swimming costume."
"Are you certain you're a witch? Transfigure one. Unless you don't know how?" He was goading her and she knew it, resting his hands on his hips and raising a challenging eyebrow.
They both knew she could figure it out, but… Wasn't this a waste of time? Her fingers inched across the picnic blanket back towards her book knowing she needed to get through another three chapters before lunch. The cool depths of the lake called to her as she stroked her finger across the soft skin of her lips. It would be refreshing.
"Studies show that exercise helps people learn faster." He said it nonchalantly, leaning against the tree, his face half obscured by the dappled shade. Hermione knew he was smirking; that he thought he had her.
And he did. She put up nothing more than a token defense.
"Draco, I have that essay-"
"Granger, stop trying to please everybody. You're such a goodie-two-shoes you won't even have fun. You know, you could try living a little - everyone will still think you're the smartest witch of our generation. I think that was easily proven given that Potter is still splashing around in the Lake right now and wasn't crushed by a troll, eaten by a three-headed dog, petrified... Hell, I'll even think you're smarter if you relax for once."
He pushed off the tree and prowled down to the lake, waving his wand at the picnic blanket over his shoulder. It stiffened underneath Hermione's fingertips, quivering like a dog waiting for its master to return. Slowly, she stood, glancing at her textbook lying next to Malfoy's open one, their studies perfectly aligned.
She didn't know what had gotten into him, but he was right, it wouldn't hurt her to live a little.
With a sigh, she removed her StudyWatch and slid it gently into her bag, then transfigured her water-bottle into a wand holster.
The dangers from the war still loomed and as beautiful as this summer day was, Hermione was no idiot.
The swimming costume was trickier, but she spotted a dandelion blooming not far from where they were sat. She only vaguely knew her own size - transfiguring clothes from scratch was an incredibly complex task that made Hermione wish she'd learnt to sew as a child but when she finished waving her wand she had something that looked like a one piece.
It was mostly yellow, where bright canary petals burst from each hip to the very edges of her neck and leg, but underneath that was a warm green. She ran her hand down the front of the garment, surprised to find that the petals were made of lycra. They looked so alive she had expected the velvety feeling of real petals when she ran her fingers over them.
Next, she quickly charmed a lump of moss into a towel. It wouldn't be as absorbent as if she'd found some wool but it would do to hide her from view - she could always dry off with a charm after all.
Now she had no excuse not to follow Malfoy. Well, none except the books that rustled in the summer breeze begging to be read. She was still woefully underprepared for her NEWTS and they were no longer creeping towards them like a niffler who spotted a trinket but running at full tilt much like nundu ready to pounce. Professor Snape was one of the few teachers even assigning homework now, the rest letting the students revise at their own pace and if he stopped then she would know the exams were upon them and it was too late.
Hermione looked up at the lake. The boys weren't the only ones who had given in to the temptation to cool down in its icy waters and, mind made up, Hermione hurried towards its shore.
"Mione?" Ron called out as she approached the crowd. "Mione! Blimey, you came."
Hermione braced herself as she dipped a toe into the water. Bloody hell it was freezing.
Suddenly her desire to prove herself to Malfoy fell away. She would be warmer and happier studying on the blanket and she would return there and work her way through Chapter 17 right this instant-
Her thoughts fell away when she spotted Draco's blonde streak of hair in the crowd, emerging from the water like some greek god.
She had known intellectually that Draco was good looking but seeing him now with water dripping from his hair and cascading down his finely muscled chest in rivulets, Hermione realised that he could have easily passed for a muggle fashion model. He looked… handsome. Refined.
Hermione flushed red and tried to force her gaze back to Ron before Draco could spot her oggling him. She failed - Draco flicked his wand lazily towards her and Hermione was encased in a thick, warm bubble of air. He beckoned her towards him, into the water.
She bit her lip and took a step forwards. It would be easier to adjust to the freezing waters if she threw herself in in one go; that's how it always seemed to go when she was at the coast with her parents at least. But the water was no longer cold. Whatever Draco had done, it had wrapped her in the summer warmth like a thin barrier protecting her from the chilly waters of the lake. It still let her feel the water lapping at her ankles as she joined them, chasing up her body as she slowly eased herself down and in.
"Hermione," Harry grinned at her. "I can't believe you actually came out to have some fun."
"Careful, Potter." Came a familiar drawl, and Hermione grinned as Draco swam over, "or you'll scare the rare striped Hermione away. Lovely outfit, Granger."
She blushed, and her hands rushed to her face to try to hide her warm cheeks.
"Bloody hell, it's cold in here." Ronald hugged his arms to his body and shivered. "I wouldn't blame her if she changed her mind."
Hermione darted a look at Malfoy, who shrugged. Clearly he hadn't felt like sharing his spellwork with them. The thought blossomed in her heart, staining her cheeks dark pink. There were things Draco only shared with her - an intriguing, inticing thought.
"Ey, Draco." Blaise swam with sure strokes towards the group, their body lithe and lean, slipping through the crystal waters with ease.
"Blaise," Draco nodded back. The two former friends had an uneasy truce now, after Draco had started spending time with the Gryffindors. It was a delicate balance to strike, Hermione understood. The Slytherins were discriminated against by almost everyone and had developed a prickly armor, distrustful of outsiders. It was something that she and Harry had discussed at length, debating the best ways to befriend Draco despite his fragile temper and bravado.
"Are you still chasing tail?" Blaise asked, flicking water towards Hermione. She flinched, but the droplets splattered across the shield harmlessly. Blaise laughed long and low. "That's a yes."
Today Blaise wore swimming trunks and a bare chest, not unlike Draco himself, whilst yesterday they had worn a short skirt and tank top, high heels clicking against the castle stones.
Silently, Hermione compared the two. Blaise had an darker complexion, brown skin with jet black hair which framed his face; delicate, bird-like bones a model would die for. Draco was the negative, all milky white with silver eyes and glittering alabaster skin. Both were absolutely stunning and Hermione felt her skin catch fire. Luckily the darkness of her skin would protect her from either person seeing the blush she could feel racing across her chest and underneath her swimming suit.
"Granger and I were merely having a conversation, Blaise. Perhaps you ought to try it sometime."
As though Draco's words had been their cue, Blaise surged through the water, grabbing Hermione's wrist and turning her away from the group.
"Oh," they murmured, smirking up at Hermione. "I can think of better uses for my tongue than conversing."
"Back off, Blaise," Draco warned.
"Play along," Blaise murmured as he brushed his lips against the shell of Hermione's ear. Goosebumps sped across Hermione's skin, and she shivered despite herself as Blaise drew their nose across the skin of Hermione's face towards her own, and gave her an eskimo kiss as they whispered, "this experiment should have results worth investigating."
Then they released her wrist and Hermione turned back to the group, blushing scarlet. Draco glared at Blaise, who patted Hermione's cheek and sailed back through the water to a group of Slytherins, who had been watching and laughing at their antics.
Hermione swung around to explain to Draco what had happened, but she was taken aback by his sudden proximity. He was holding himself taut with anger, hands curled into fists, glaring with steel eyes at Blaise's back.
"Draco, I-"
He lunged forward, pressing his lips against hers as though driven to do so by a compulsion charm. Shocked, Hermione didn't react for several seconds, the brush of his lips against hers electric. And weird. They were study partners, they didn't-
All thought ceased for a breath as Draco brushed his hand across her cheek, tucking her wild hair behind her ear.
The charm snapped around them and cold water seeped against her skin, dragging her back to herself with a yelp.
"Draco!" Harry shouted, scandalised. Ron looked around as though confused, apparently having missed the big moment.
Hermione frowned, her mouth set in a straight line. Without thought, she slapped her hand against Draco's shoulder, leaving a pink mark against his perfect skin.
"Don't you ever do that again," she scowled, keeping her voice low so the other two couldn't hear what she said. "That kiss was showboating for Blaise and you know it." She ignored the warm feeling which had spread through her stomach like a hearty soup on a cold, winter day and the fact her lips were still begging her to kiss him again, to feel the spark that had passed between them.
"Granger, I don't-"
"Next time, Draco," she took a deep shuddering breath, "kiss the girl because you like them, not because you've suddenly realised they're female."
She marched out of the water, teeth chattering, and dried herself off utilizing both the towel she had transfigured and a charm. She had better things to do than stroke Draco's ego. First Ronald and now Draco. She was sick of the boy's using her femininity as some form of ridiculous experimentation.
Draco stared at her retreating form, admiring the curve of her waist and the way her hair seemed to tumble about her head even as his own thoughts jumbled around him. The Malfoy heir was used to getting what he wanted and now he knew how. Next time, he swore to himself, he would make sure she knew the kiss was all about her.