A/N: Everything, except the stuff you don't recognize, belongs to JK Rowling and her utter genius.
Chapter Four: Secrets
Now that she knew Draco's reason for staring, Hermione became even more uncomfortable, if that were possible. She'd only told Zofia about what had transpired by the lake. It was ironic how she'd trust some she'd known for barely two weeks instead of the best friends she'd had since her first year, but she knew them well enough to know that they wouldn't take the news so well. They'd most likely want to lure him to a dark corridor and…
She shuddered. That, of course, had been her reaction at first, but then he'd shown her a whole new side. A side that a few days ago she could never have imagined possible; in all honestly, she was still finding it hard to believe. She chanced a furtive glance across the Great Hall at the Slytherin table.
A surprising surge of jealousy pulsed through her when she saw Pansy Parkinson push a lock of his white-blonde hair away from his face. Her eyes narrowed at the pug-faced girl just as Draco looked over at her. He shot a glance at Pansy then rolled his gray eyes, causing an involuntary grin to come to Hermione's lips.
"Hermione," Ginny whispered abrasively from her seat on the bench. "What're you doing?"
"What?" she asked innocently.
Ginny's eyes widened. "You were staring at Malfoy!"
"No," she corrected. "I was glaring at him."
Ginny shook her head. "No, you were grinning at him. Did I miss something?"
A definite blush came to Hermione's cheeks. "I'll tell you in the common room."
When she ate the last of her lunch, Hermione deliberately went strait to the library, which was honestly her routine. It had become Draco's too, apparently, because it wasn't long before he followed her through the doors. Their eyes met across the room, but no further acknowledgement was made between them. This wasn't lost on Ginny as she walked to the table and sat down beside Hermione. "Spill," she demanded.
"There's nothing to spill," Hermione assured her calmly, "honestly, Ginny!"
"Rubbish," retorted Ginny. "Last week you were nearly scared senseless; yet, this week you're grinning at him at lunch!" She looked at Draco (who quickly averted his eyes) then back to Hermione. "Something happened."
Hermione shrugged noncommittally. "We had a small chat."
Ginny snorted, "That must've some chat!"
Rolling her eyes, Hermione stood and walked to the group of shelves that contained books on Arithmacy. The two rows of shelves were at the end of an aisle in the furthest corner of the library, completely out of sight from everyone else. Considering this, Hermione couldn't help but feel a small surge of fear when Malfoy cornered her. "So, uh, what were you and young Weasleby whispering about?"
Hermione looked into his pale eyes and weighed her words carefully, "Shove off, Malfoy."
Something flashed in his eyes. Was that hurt? "We're back to this?"
Her eyes widened. "We never left this!"
Draco took hold of the shelves on either side of her, completely caging her in. Hermione's breath became rushed as she stared into his stormy eyes. What she saw in them literally scared the crap out of her. There was no dishonesty, no glint of erroneous sentiment, for once, there was only sincerity. She could have sworn it was an eternity as they stood there, their faces centimeters apart.
Then he kissed her…
By the time Hermione opened her eyes, Draco was smirking down at her, a pale eyebrow arched triumphantly. "That's what I thought." He gently cuffed her chin with the pad of his thumb and walked back down the aisle…leaving Hermione utterly speechless.
An hour later, as Hermione walked to her Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, she swore she could still detect the lingering taste of Draco on her lips. She met Harry and Ron, who'd obviously had a recent snogging session with Lavender from the disheveled look of his hair, as she entered, but she didn't notice the shared expression on their faces when they saw her. "You okay, Hermione?" asked Harry.
She looked up, surprised, as if she hadn't noticed him before then. "I'm fine."
He looked at her skeptically as Snape swept into the room and started their lesson. Not even Snape's cruel arrogance seemed to be able to take the subtle smile from Hermione's face. This wasn't lost on Professor Snape, who took great joy in seeing the disgusted terror on his student's faces. He finished a particularly gruesome story and looked to the loathsome know-it-all to find her still looking quite winsome. "Miss Granger!" he roared from the front of the classroom. "Is it going to be your constant habit to daydream in my class? Do you find the Defense Against the Dark Arts to be beneath you?"
This brought her out of her reverie. "N-no, Professor," she quickly assured him, fighting against the boiling anger that was building within her. Damn Malfoy! How could his kiss have affected her so much? She should have slapped him! Instead, he now knew that she was starting to like him too. She unconsciously shook her head. No, she didn't like Malfoy…she couldn't.
"Five points from Gryffindor for Miss Granger's inability to pay attention!" Snape told the class viperously.
Heat rose in her cheeks, giving the look of an embarrassed blush. She chanced a surreptitious glance across the room at Malfoy, whom she very well expected to see grinning at her smugly… but he wasn't. He was looking at her with what seemed to be compassion, a look that had obviously never crossed his features before.
That was nearly her downfall. Why does he have to look so handsome? she asked herself. Again she felt the almost tangible touch of his lips as they stared at each other. A gasp from the class brought her attention back to the lesson. Snape had unveiled yet another macabre depiction of someone under a curse or potion, Hermione hadn't exactly been paying attention so she didn't know what the problem was, all she knew was it looked very painful.
"…Two rolls of parchment due Monday," bellowed Snape from behind his moving photo.
Hermione began to panic… two rolls of parchment on what? She left the classroom, taking care to notice that Malfoy had also missed it because he was talking to Professor Snape about the topic. She looked around the corridor for Ron. She found him lip locked with Lavender and she remembered that she was upset with him. Though, this time the sight of the snogging couple didn't make her stomach turn. Then again, she though, I can't exactly tell them the reason why I no longer care about their relationship. She'd just have to ask Harry in the common room.
A shiver ran down her spine as someone stopped directly behind her. "'The affects of the Irresolutus potion'," a voice she recognized as Draco's quoted. "That's the essay."
When she turned around he was already moving down the corridor.
After her last lesson of the day she made a short trip to the common room to ask Harry if she'd gotten the correct information from Malfoy. Surprisingly, she had. For a while she considered staying in the common room to finish the essay, but then she'd seen Ron and Lavender in their favorite chair and decided to go to the library. She was no longer jealous; she was just flat out disgusted.
She was glad to see Zofia sitting at the usual table. She sat down across from her friend, a subtle smile playing at her lips.
"You look like someone with a secret," she determined as soon as Hermione sat down.
A blush crept up her cheeks. "Is it obvious?"
Zofia's eyes widened excitedly. "What happened?"
Looking around nervously, she leaned closer. "He kissed me," she admitted. "and he told me the topic of the essay when I missed it."
"Compared to the kiss, that last part was a little disappointing," Zofia said bluntly. "How was the kiss?"
"It was great, but don't you see?" Zofia shook her head. "He helped me; honestly helped me and he didn't rub it in my face. I never thought it was in him."
"So do you fancy him then?" she challenged.
"That shall remain a secret," Hermione said firmly.
Zofia put her hands up in mock surrender as Hermione dove into her bag for the appropriate book. When she sat up a crumbled piece of parchment hit her full in the face. After getting over her shock, she grabbed the parchment and looked around suspiciously. Malfoy stared at her from the next table, not smirking or sniggering, just looking. She felt prompted to open the ball. A short note was scratched onto the torn piece. It read: Meet me in ten minutes…you know where: a private room.
Before looking up she debated on whether or not she should go. He had pretty much proven his sincerity, but she wasn't quite sure why he wanted to meet with her privately. In all honestly, she didn't really want to. Upon looking up, she saw the question in his eyes. While keeping eye contact, she wrote her reply, balled up the wrinkled parchment and threw it back, hitting Malfoy right between the eyes.
A few minutes later she gathered her books and stuffed them into her bag.
Zofia looked up at her in surprise. "Where are you going?"
"Uh, Harry wanted some help on the essay," she lied. Even with Snape as a teacher Harry still out did her in Defense Against the Dark Arts. As she left the library she noticed that Malfoy was no longer at the table. Her legs were strictly on autopilot as she made her way to the seventh floor corridor in which the Room of Requirement resided.
Looking around to make sure no one was lurking nearby; she inhaled deeply and began to pace repeating, "I need a private room," three times. When the door appeared, she debated one last time and pushed the door open.
Draco felt a thousand butterflies release in his stomach when the door behind him opened. He stood to see a very nervous looking Hermione leaning against the door. Not knowing exactly what he was going to do, he walked toward her.
"Wh-what do you want?" she stammered, uncertainty most apparent in her voice.
He was hardly cognizant of his actions until he was gently pressing his lips to hers. Warmth spread through him as she reciprocated and even rested her hands on his chest. He was momentarily afraid she meant push him away, but she melted into his embrace as his hands fell to possess her waist.
When he finally broke away, his patented smirk came to his lips. "That's what I wanted."
"Oh," she breathed excitedly.
He leaned in again…but she stopped him, "Wait…"
"What?" he demanded in panic. "Don't you fancy me?"
"I fancy you plenty," she assured him without thinking. "That's not what I meant. Is this all you wanted?"
His smirk turned into a teasing grin. "Well, I thought you'd want to wait…"
Hermione arched an intimidating eyebrow. "You haven't forgotten third year, have you?"
Stepping back at the memory, he made sure a good distance remained between them. "What do you mean then?" he asked, turning in frustration.
"You're just like Ron!" she accused and Draco spun around instantly. "I knew that would get your attention," she explained. "Did you only ask me here so you could snog me?"
The look that came to his pale face was absolutely comical. "Isn't that what we're supposed to do?"
She snorted, "No! Honestly, we're nearly adults, you know." She tentatively walked to a chair and sat down. Pointing her wand at the dark fire place, she lit a merry fire that looked like it had been burning for hours. "We're supposed to have conversations and… just enjoy each other's company," she explained whimsically.
He snorted. "I thought you only read text books," he questioned sardonically.
Hermione stood from the chair and turned away from him. "I thought you were serious about this," she challenged subtly. She already knew how to get what she wanted from him. And there was no way he was going to back out after he'd made her fall for him.
"I am!" he answered defensively.
"Then start acting like it," she whimpered. From where she stood, she heard the swoosh of his robes as he sat in the chair she'd just vacated.
"Alright then, let's have a conversation," he demanded in grumpy frustration.
Smiling inwardly to herself, she turned back to him and sat triumphantly on the settee. "What's it like to know you're a wizard your whole life?" she inquired immediately, almost too enthusiastically.
He arched a pale eyebrow. "What's it like to be a muggle?"
The smile slid from her face and her shoulders slumped. "I was serious," she admonished defensively.
"As was I!" he exploded almost desperately. "This is why we shouldn't have conversations."
He did have a point, they both knew it. He jumped over and sat next to her on the settee. He tentatively touched her cheek and this time she didn't stop him as he leaned in to kiss her softly. Much to her relief, he broke it after a few moments. Their faces were centimeters apart when she asked the question on both of their minds. "How did this happen?" she breathed. "We're enemies, we're meant to hate each other, and yet…"
Gently leaning his forehead to hers, Draco finished, "We can't get enough of each other."
