Disclaimer: I do not own the Characters in this work- J.K. Rowling has that glorious and wonderful right. :)

That Simple Scent

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The first chill of winter had only just settled in when some strange happenings began occurring within the walls of Hogwarts.

Hermione Granger, a most eloquent and educated witch, was busying herself in the library, tasking herself to find something that would save, or at the very least formidably aid, her dear friend Harry Potter, from the inevitable doom that presented itself in the form of the first trial of Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Hermione was the type to become very lost in the depths of this giant achieve of magic. In the beginning of her time at Hogwarts, she had an underlying fear that if she was to falter in any of her classes, that she would be ruthlessly evicted from her place at the school. But after being the top student in her class for the past three years, she seemed to have settled in enough to shake off that fear and be able to truly immerse herself into the wonders that the magical world held. The added bonus of having broken an array of Hogwarts rules and probably a decent share of Wizarding Laws and coming out relatively unscathed only reinforced her comfort.

So even with a life-or-death conquest in mind, Hermione ended up with a stack of books resting comfortably by the one surprisingly squishy arm chair she found herself resting in, hidden in a corner of the library.

As she read, Hermione lightly bounced her foot, humming very softly as she began to lose herself amidst the text and occasional illustration. A solid hour must have passed when a stir finally returned to her section of the library. Hermione didn't bother to look up—it was probably Madam Pince just fetching a book for a wayward student. But something about the steps didn't sound like Madam Pince. The woman might have been the most tightly wound person Hermione knew, but sure as all could be, the witch was as dainty footed as a ballerina.

No. These steps were precise, but flat footed. The sound as this mysterious person walked swiftly up and down the aisles of the section sounded heavier. Then, as the person began to get closer to Hermione's location, she sudden heard an oh-so familiar voice grousing at as loud of a whisper as Madam Pince's keen ears would allow.

"Bloody book must be hidden! I knew I never should have sent Crabbe and Goyle together to fetch it. They barely have half a brain when their together…! Can't even manage to find one bloody book."

Draco Malfoy was invading her sanctuary. She was not in the mood to play verbal fisticuffs with the brat, so she began to sweep up her collection of books to check out and read elsewhere. Unfortunately, Malfoy caught sight of her before she even left her chair.

"Well, well. What a surprise to see you here, Granger. Well, I guess not really. I bet books like you better than any respectable wizard, so I can see why you'd – Wait a minute, what's that book you got there?!"

The book he was making reference to was a large, old book that had existed for so long, most of the lettering on the leather cover had been worn away. It was resting on the top of the pile of books, with the cover lightly flipped open—primed for action when Hermione was to finish her first book. It was a book entitled "Madam Featherstone's Almanac for the Ages" and it was Hermione's only way of knowing what had happened with the previous Tri-wizard tournament trial had been, and to see if any of the previous Tournaments had repeat trials. Apparently, Malfoy had come to the same realization that this book could be the one thing that made or broke Harry in the Tournament.

Hermione was not about to let something like that slip into Malfoy's devious hands.

Draco tried to make a dive for the book, but Hermione was too quick. With a flick of her wand Malfoy's legs snapped shut and began to fall face first towards the floor. He made a mad scramble for anything that would hold him up, and managed to get over his disdain for Hermione long enough to drag her down to the floor with him—before she could even gloat at how effortlessly she pulled off the hex.

Malfoy, in spite of his current issues with mobility, still made a grab for the book that sat just outside his reach. Hermione was trying her best to roll her enemy off her body, but was consistently brought back into the fray of flailing arms and robe that Draco Malfoy had become.

By the time Draco had resigned to giving up, Hermione had already decided to bide her time and see when Draco would exhaust himself enough to quit and get him off of her. Draco exclaimed in disgust upon realizing how he had managed to let "God-awful Granger" get so close to him, close enough to force herself underneath his perfect frame and cause such a scene in the middle of it all. Thank the HEAVENS that no one had seen this mess.

Hermione lightly pushed Draco off, and clamored back up. She dusted herself off, muttering to herself about having to decide if there was enough detergent in the world to remove the essence of Draco to not burn this set of robes. She flicked her wand again and the pile of books levitated, following her slowly as she left Malfoy to fend for himself.

It wasn't until she got to the Gryffindor common room that she began to wonder what smelled so good. Hermione never quite could pinpoint where it came from, but it seemed to fill the air and her lungs, and when she breathed it in, she somehow felt safe.

And that night, after lightly flipping through the history of the other Tri-Wizard Tournaments, she fell asleep with her covers smelling faintly of that dream like scent she smelled before.

Somehow, her sleep was deeper and more blissful than any other night so far.