That Thursday evening found Hermione staring into a bowl of soup at dinner. Her eyes weren't really fixed on anything, but her mind was entirely focused on what had happened on the previous night and earlier that morning.

How his hand held her smaller one in a gentle grasp, the steady beating of his heart against her back, his warmth, and how adorable it was when he threw that blasted clock into the wall only to return to sleep-

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Ginny's voice brought her back to the present, one hand placed on her shoulder. It almost made her gasp.

"Malfoy, adorable? I need to get a hold of myself!" she scolded herself in silence. "Yes, Ginny. I'm fine. 'Just didn't sleep very well last night."

Okay, that was lie. She slept like a baby last night, even with the raging storm outside, safe in his arms... Hermione shook the thought off her mind and decided to ignore this, stop it, for Merlin's sake, and scooped up some of that soup she'd been staring at for the past few minutes and get on with life already.

"And remember he mistook you for someone else that time." She didn't know how she felt about this, even as she reminded herself.

"Oh... it was stormy last night," Ginny was saying. She knew that Hermione was never comfortable with sleeping in violent nights like that. The weather had been gloomy the entire day, too.

Draco was sitting at the Slytherin table with his back to the Gryffindors'. He had his sight fixed on something invisible floating in the air. He was too taken in by it that he hadn't realised it when Blaise took the seat next to him and went on to spare a good amount of time scrutinising him. Then Blaise snapped his fingers between Draco and the invisible something, pulling him out of his trance.

Draco blinked and turned to face the intruder. He cocked one eyebrow at him.

"What, something happened between you and the Head Girl last night? Just pull it together and finish dinner. We have an assignment due tomorrow," he said in an off-handed tone and proceeded to ignore Draco's reaction to his remark.

Which Draco was quite thankful for, because his reaction – eyes widened and mouth agape – would have let on more than he would forgive himself for. He quelled the shock in his face and reached for some random fruit on the table. Of course Blaise was just saying that, no need to panic.

He bit into the apple before looking to check what he'd just grabbed. Apples... her hair smelled like them. What a sweet smell. Draco mentally shook himself. He had let himself get so lost in thought all day, he must stop, now.

But apples. And how tall she was compared to whom he thought he was mistaking her for. And her warmth. He had to admit that he knew, even if it was unconsciously. And when she didn't pull away...

Blaise squeezed his shoulder and he was back again. "Let's go," the tall boy rose from the bench and Draco followed suit. As they were leaving the Hall, Draco couldn't stop his eyes from looking over the Gryffindor table. Their eyes met for a split second before Granger tore hers away.

Hermione was sitting in an armchair near the fireplace in the Heads' common room when it started pouring again. She looked up from the essay she was working on to scowl at the window. It had better be just rain, or she isn't going to get any sleep tonight. Earlier, she had decided against seeking comfort in Malfoy's bed again for the next storm. The stupid, stupid storm.

"You're the stupid one. There isn't anything to storms worth being so afraid of. It's just water and thunder and..." a flash of light and a great crack in the air outside made her flinch. Curse this storm!

She turned back to the essay; twenty-three sodding inches on Invisibility spells. She was going to do more research on the subject in the library earlier, but when she reached the library she had caught sight of Malfoy's white-blonde hair sitting at one of the tables. She had then turned around and walked away on impulse. It was pathetic.

The sky rumbled again and there was another flash of lightning, prompting Hermione to drop her parchment and quill to cover her ears and shut her eyes, but the terrifying sound of thunder didn't come. She huffed and recovered her essay from the floor. Only another inch left before she's finished with it.

Draco absently followed Blaise into the library and took a seat at one of the tables near a window. The skies were threatening to pour unto the Earth again, as they did last night. No. He needed to stop thinking about last night.

Blaise laid two heavy tomes on the table right in front of Draco to shake him out of it again. He merely shook his head at the blonde when Draco glowered at him in return. "Can we just finish this assignment now?" At that, Draco took one of the volumes and began scanning the index without further remark.

They managed to finish the assignment just as the library was closing and Madam Pince was calling out for the remaining students to leave. With a sinking feeling, he parted with Blaise at the door and headed for his quarters alone. He decided to take slow steps.

Granger had wanted to sleep in his bed last night. Granger did sleep in his bed last night. Granger had actually sought after him. That should mean she doesn't hate him that much anymore. Perhaps she had forgiven him for how he had treated her, and her friends, and, well, just about everybody else, in the past? He knew her to be forgiving; he had spent a lot of time, even in that dreaded past, watching her. And he hadn't made another scathing remark, concerning her at least, since they first returned to Hogwarts for their redo year... But could she really be that forgiving?

He was climbing up the flight of stairs that lead to the Heads' common room in South Tower now. He halted in his track halfway up. Was Granger back yet? He didn't know what to say to her now or how to act around her now. He brought his gaze to the ceiling as if in surrender and closed his eyes; the first thing he saw when he had first opened them this morning was Hermione Granger smiling up at him. He had only seen her smile like that when she was with Potter or Weasley. This morning it had been for him. Something tugged at the corner of his lips at this thought. Thank Merlin those two decided not to come back. They would occupy less of her time now. That's all she ever did, just give, give and give.

When he finally reached the common room, he was greeted by an almost-ear-splitting sound of thunder, which was immediately followed by a gasp from someone somewhere in the room. Draco looked around and saw no one. His eyes then fell onto the lit fireplace to the side, and then to the armchair near it which had its back to him. Was that where she sat every night, hiding from him?

Draco now found himself standing beside the armchair. He was watching her again; the bushy brown hair, her sharp elbows, her fair skin, her small hand clutching the quill and writing out her homework in impossibly small font...

Granger turned her head around to find him and yelped. "Malfoy! You made me blot my sentence!" she yelled, waving her wand over the parchment.

Draco mentally shook himself again. That was rude, sneaking up on people like that. "Sorry," he managed to say. He was suddenly very aware of his beating heart; it was hammering against his chest. He tried to remember what he had worked out to say to her earlier and failed. He felt like it was caught in his throat.

"Malfoy, about last night... I was just upset about something, I'm sorry I took advantage of you," Hermione was saying in a quiet voice.

"It's nothing, I - "

"I knew you didn't know it was me, but I didn't leave even then. That's why I'm sorry, and I promise it won't happen again," she obviously felt the need to get this over and done with already.

His heart sank. He didn't want her to make that promise. "Oh, don't you now?" Draco only nodded mutely to her. But wait...

"What do you mean, 'you knew'?"

"You, urm, apparently thought I was 'Abby'," neither of them had their eyes on the other up to this point.

"Did I...?" he asked, more to himself than her. But he knew it was her, didn't he? Granger's the one who doesn't like storms, not her.

Nonetheless, that's what she heard. He wanted to turn and flee the room, but he was rooted to that spot. A huge part of him wanted to confess everything to her right there and then. He was still struggling in his mind when Granger spoke up again.

"If you don't mind me asking, Malfoy, who is Abby?" she was looking at him now with her head slightly tilted to the side. His entire inner struggle left him as he held the sight. Draco stared at her again.

"I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that," she averted her eyes from him to the floor instead. He almost shook himself.

"Oh, not at all. It's just that... She was Silversmith," 'you're beautiful, you know that?' was the unsaid part of the sentence.

Realisation dawned on her face as it often does during classes. Draco, on the other hand, was still trying to think of something to say to her right now. "Sleep tight, Granger," was all he finally managed.

As he tossed and turned in bed that night, he wondered how Granger was doing with the storm still raging outside. He contemplated checking on her in the other room but never reached a decision.

Hermione was kept up all night. She, too, was regretting her promise.