I decided I like the novel idea of a oneshot, so here goes. Second attempt, but the first is still in progress. Just fluffy crap that makes me happy to think about, please don't judge me for OCC ness, it's supposed to be like that. Enjoy!

~nababy123

"Who's there?" Hermione spoke cautiously, quietly, with an edge to her voice into the darkness surrounding her. It had to be at least two in the morning, and she was in the Hogwarts library, studying, true to her bookworm persona. NEWTS were the next week, and she was in a kind of panic, spending all of her hours studying for the tests. She was using the light of her wand, as the electrity didn't seem to work after hours. Now, sleep deprived as she was, noises that could not possibly be just the wind, for they were just too human. Rationalizing with herself, she assured that she was hallucinating. However, she was growing more paranoid by the minute.

Where were the damn lights? What was up with this library? Wait, there it was again!

Creeeaaaakkkkk. The sound of a footstep against an older patch of library wood floor. That was it, she was getting out of here. If there was someone here, she would rather not stick around to have tea and crumpets. Quickly gathering all her things up, she continually sent fleeting glances to the dark recesses of the room that was her second home here at Hogwarts... during the day, that is. However, she saw nothing that looked out of the ordinary, in her line of vision anyways. More than half of the room was shrouded in darkness, so she couldn't be sure.

Her imagination was getting away with her, and she didn't like it one bit. She was seeing ghosts and ghouls and vampires hidden in the darkness, which just fueled her desire to get out of there as fast as possible even more. Finally, all her books and papers were in her bag, which she grabbed as fast as possible and made a quick dash for the massive double doors that lead out of this accursed place. Reaching them quickly, she reached to turn the handle, but found it locked.

'Crap! I forgot that the library locks up after midnight! How uncharacteristic of me! When did I become forgetful? I'm a regular Ron... NOOOOOOO!' Hermione thought.

Then the panic set in. She was now sure there was someone else in there with her, and they now were both locked in here together, until morning! She was doomed. Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of light in the darkness to her right. Spinning on her heel, she wheeled around to see... absolutely nothing. There was complete darkness again, but this just reinforced her suspicions. Whimpering a little, just loudly enough for herself to hear, she retreated to where she had started off, her little nook in the corner furthest from the doors. It had her table, which stood right next to the big window, which was locked at night, for security reasons, and two plushy armchairs and a loveseat, all leather and of the utmost comfortability.

Trying to place her bag down quietly, so as not to alert the other person in here, who could quite possibly be a crazed death eater who would murder her in her sleep. Then she curled up in the left arm of the loveseat and sat stiffly, looking like she was restful, but in actuality, her eyes darted around, looking for danger. She thought she saw a figure darker than the dark outlined behind a bookshelf in the middle of the room, and the thought to her sleep deprived mind was possibly the scariest she had every had. Hormonal and on edge already with all the studying, Hermione was utterly dismayed to find herself breaking down in tears against her own will. She was completely overwhelmed by the events of the past few days, and tired as hell. So under the circumstances, she felt almost justified in her breakdown.

Heavy sobs swept through her body, wracking her frame. But then, when her head was buried in her arms on the couch's arm, she felt a shift in the way the cushion's were laying. A weight on the other side. Then the person touched her, and she screamed out loud. Ignorant of her fright, the person pulled her towards them, and she was embraced, encirled by two strong arms and held into a hard chest, a face buried in her curls. Scared as she was, she was stiff for a moment, then her stuggle began. She shoved him, and pushed him, and flailed about, but all to no avail. Slowly, she calmed, bit by bit, melted into his chest, all her adrenaline burned off, too tired to fight anymore. She turned her head sideways, and caught a glimpse of hair so blond it was silver in the moonlight. And then she knew who it was. Malfoy.

She was ever so tired. But she was determined to get out her question.

"Malfoy, why are you doing this? You hate me, remember?"

He answered into her ear, softly and in such a smooth voice it was like a lullaby.

"Oh, Hermione, I've never hated you. I felt other emotions. Jealousy, frustration, and envy of you and your superior intelect. Which delveloped into other emotions. Jealously turned to respect, respect to genuine liking. And that to something even more. Sleep, my love. I'll be here in the morning."

In her mind, Hermione was rejoicing. She had felt the exact same way about him for the longest time, and was so happy for her dream to finally be coming true. But she was tired, so she couldn't give a long eloquent speech about her feelings like he had. So she settled for the next best thing.

She gave a drowsy smile, and mumbled something before falling off into dreamland.

The only one that heard was Draco. And whatever it was must have been along the lines of 'I love you, too', because he smiled a dreamy giddy smile at her sleeping face, put a silencing charm around her so she wouldn't wake, and gave one of the loudest whoops ever made by a human.

This was shaping up to be a lovely seventh year, indeed.