Chapter 3: Worthiness

When Hermione awoke on the third morning, she nearly ran into the hall outside of Gryffindor Tower, eager to see if there would be a bouquet. Much to her dismay, her Valentine's box sat barren, only a few colorful slips of paper and a handful of chocolates rattling in the bottom. Not his colorful flowers or expensive squares of the finest Swiss chocolate. She didn't bother to look at the other slips of paper—no use, her mind was made up.

She was unnecessarily downtrodden as she showered and dressed for the day. It was now Wednesday, and the Gryffindors had double Charms with Ravenclaw, then double Herbology with the Slytherins. When she went down to breakfast, it was well after her usual early time and she'd have to skip her morning trip to the library.

As she entered the Great Hall, she saw his head first, dipped low and speaking conspiratorially with his fellow snakes. When she passed his table to take her seat, she saw his eyes rise from Astoria's face to make contact with her own, his gaze steady and warming as a wide smile spread across his face. Hermione sat with her back to him so she wouldn't have to see the smirk he held at yesterday's memories.

They'd stayed longer than just their lunch period in the garden, smiling and laughing. For such a broken boy, he'd let loose and turned into a joyous man. Hermione was starting to wonder if this Malfoy had been hidden deep beneath the little bigoted prat of third year. He was a delight to be around—intelligent, quick witted, sarcastic in all the right ways, handsome, coquettish. She couldn't fathom how the flirty, thoughtful man vying after her affections now was the same darkly brooding individual of yesteryear.

He hadn't kissed her again. The attraction was clearly there, but he didn't even attempt it again, even as she brushed his soft hair away from his forehead, her own breath tickling his face from the proximity. He remained polite and gentlemanly and every bit the proper pureblooded aristocrat he'd been raised to be. But his kiss lingered on her lips, like a whisper caught in the wind. The whisper of tomorrows.

When Hermione arose, her breakfast nearly untouched as butterflies battled pleasantly in her belly, she dared to eye him from her peripheral. She was absently touching her lips and as she eyed him, she saw him run a tracing fingertip over his own. He rose as well and his friends followed closely behind as they made their way to double Transfiguration. He fell in step with her when they reached the ends of their respective tables. "You look remarkably pretty today, Granger," he said, loud enough for his friends to hear.

Hermione turned to look over her shoulder and saw Theo Nott smirking to himself and Astoria Greengrass lifting one perfectly manicured eyebrow amusedly. She felt her cheeks flush with warmth. What was Malfoy doing? They hadn't made a move in the last two days to go public with their mutual admiration of one another. She felt his hand brush against hers and she cherished the warmth of his skin as his hand traced over hers briefly. Not quite holding hands, but satisfying their bashful need for contact. They separated at the base of the staircase and he smiled down at her. "I won't be able to see you tonight…Quidditch practice," he said ruefully, brushing her hair over her shoulder.

Astoria and Theo were lingering in the corridor a few paces back, talking amongst themselves and trying to look completely uninterested as the couple spoke. Hermione watched them and Malfoy stepped in her line of sight to block them. "Ignore them. They're overprotective of me since the war. Never thought I'd need bodyguards," he muttered, stepping in to brush a thumb over her cheek.

Hermione smiled at him and poked his chest playfully. "You never know…I haven't decided whether or not to hex you for ending that kiss yesterday," she said and her brain was screaming at her that she was saying these things uncharacteristically.

Malfoy didn't seem to mind, however. He ran a fingertip over her bottom lip where she was pouting and laughed throatily. "You want me to kiss you?" he asked, his tone mischievous.

Hermione's heart stopped beating for a moment. "I thought I'd made that obvious," she said, eyeing a group of seventh year Gryffindors walking their way.

He said something in front of his friends, but would he in front of other students? Did she want him to? Those questions were answered in a split second. Draco followed her gaze and saw her apprehension and questioning. He didn't give her too much time to react. "Then I shall kiss you," he said and he dipped his lips to hers.

When she pulled away after three precious seconds, the Gryffindors were all staring at the strange pair and talking behind their hands and giggling as they passed. But Hermione couldn't find it in herself to care. He'd shown her an actual display of affection in public. Again, not a deep, burning kiss but a sweet show of attentiveness.

"See you in the greenhouses," he said, giving her his bright smile once more.

She stared after him, his strange behaviors confusing and tantalizing. Three days ago, she never would have believed Draco Malfoy would kiss her in the corridor between classes.

o-o-o

Hermione ambled down to the greenhouses that afternoon. Her heart was already pitter-pattering at the thought of seeing Draco. They were going to spend the class trimming back Devil's snare, repotting venomous tentaculas and weeding herb beds. Not particularly exciting work, but necessary for sustaining the Potions supplies. The thought of his hands plucking weeds and turning the earth did something to her.

He was already in the greenhouse when she arrived, leaning casually against a work table, his arms crossed over his chest. She caught his eye as she went to stand by Neville on the Gryffindor side. He looked up at her, the slightest upturn of his face away from the ground. His grey eyes peeked through his hair and his lips turned upward as he looked back toward his shoes.

The others in the greenhouse looked between the two, whispering and eyeing them as though this was the juiciest piece of gossip they'd ever heard. How scandalous. The War Heroine and the Death Eater. She rolled her eyes at them. Idiots. He seemed unfazed by it all as he listened to Professor Sprout intently.

The class broke apart and set to work. Hermione picked an inconspicuous section of the greenhouse and began plucking strangling weeds away from the wolfsbane. It caught her off guard when a large onyx colored owl swooped in through a cracked window and sat down on the wall of the raised herb garden. He was carrying a bouquet of flowers with him. Cream roses, white heather and yellow daffodils, broken up with green sprigs: flowers of worthiness and loyalty. It was wrapped in a gold ribbon with the single square of white chocolate.

"It would appear you have an admirer, Granger," his cool voice came from behind her.

She turned to see him come up beside her and pull an owl treat from his pocket. "Thank you, Hades. You can go now," he said, running a gentle hand over the bird's feathers.

The owl gave his master a love nip and took flight. Hermione lifted the bouquet to her nose and inhaled the soft rose scent. "It does, huh?" she asked, plucking the card from the center.

When she opened it, a small Scottish terrier trotted out of it. It lifted its face to touch its nose to Draco's and then disappeared upon his breathy laugh. "These are impressive little shows of magic, Malfoy," Hermione said, looking up from the card a brief moment to raise an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, you think so?" he asked, leaning forward and plucking a few weeds from her herb garden.

She hummed a response and looked down at the card. She noticed his ears turn pink when she did—he could write sweet sentiments, but apparently he was abashed to have her read them in front of him.

I would like to spend each day,

Diligently proving that I can

Be worthy of such beauty and majesty.

I have made all the wrong choices in life.

But this choice feels so right.

DM

Hermione could feel her face flush and she peered around at her classmates. The girls were staring at her, a few with their mouths agape, a few looking thoroughly jealous. One Slytherin smacked her boyfriend's arm and he glared in Malfoy's direction: he was clearly failing in comparison to Draco's standards.

"Thank you," she whispered in his direction and he nodded once, his flushed face slowly returning to normal.

At the end of class Hermione tucked her bouquet carefully into her bag, making sure not to crush the tender buds. On the way out, Professor Sprout handed each female a small red velvet pouch. "To get into the holiday spirit!" she exclaimed merrily.

Draco fell in step beside Hermione. "What is it," he asked, his arm brushing against hers.

Hermione opened it and pulled out five dried bay leaves and a small piece of parchment that read, "Pin to your pillow to dream of your Valentine!" with a small diagram of how they should be pinned.

She handed Draco the parchment as she stowed the leaves back in their little bag. "Rather archaic if you ask me," she said absently.

"Where's your sense of romanticism, Granger?" he said, a smile playing at his lips as he handed her the parchment.

She put the pouch in her pocket and she felt his fingers slip into hers. "Will you pin them, then?"

"Probably not. I'm not much on fanciful superstitions," she answered truthfully.

"Hmm…you don't want to dream of me?" he challenged playfully.

"And what if I dream of someone else?" she quipped.

"Then I would have to avenge my honor and dignity and hex the poor lad," he replied, giving her hand a squeeze. "I'll walk you to Gryffindor Tower."

They walked in amicable silence, ignoring the stares around them. He wanted to be worthy of her and his first step was to publicly show affections instead of trying to hide her away. He was risking his mother finding out exactly whom all those flowers were for and he didn't care. That thought made her heart soar. "I can't see you tonight?" she asked him, wishing he would blow off Quidditch in favor of picking up where they left off in corridor that morning.

"Can't. We're not even going to dinner. We've got a big game against Ravenclaw this week. But perhaps, you'll see me in your dreams," he teased as they stopped a few yards from the Fat Lady.

She swatted his arm. "Don't hold your breath—"

He silenced her with his lips on hers, their third kiss. He cupped her cheek more gently than she ever would have thought Draco Malfoy capable of and pulled her hips toward him with his other. This time, it was he who slid his tongue over her lip, pausing to suckle her bottom lip between his own before deepening the kiss. She fisted his robes in her hands between them. He tasted of white chocolate and she thought he must have enjoyed a square of chocolate identical to her own.

Malfoy pulled away first and his heated breath ghosted across her face as he let out a small chuckle and brushed his lips chastely against hers once more. "I've got to go now…try not to let me affect your slumber too terribly," he finished with a cocky wink.

o-o-o

Hermione pulled the curtains around her bed that night, feeling foolish as she pulled the crimson bag from the pocket of her pajama pants. She used a sticking charm to place a leaf in each corner, their points facing the center where she stuck the largest of the leaves.

She lay her head down on the pillow and pulled her covers up around her. Her thoughts were already of a certain silvery blond haired Slytherin, the feel of his lips on hers, his hands gripping her hips. Hermione fell into a quiet slumber quickly, a smile playing across her face.

o-o-o

A/N: Oh, Lawd. What even is this story? This isn't meant to be some huge masterpiece, just a lil cutesy story for Valentine's. But it's getting deep in here.

Please review. If this infernal website ever fixes their bugs, I'll be able to read them!