A/N: Firstly, I just want to apologise for the unplanned hiatus this fic took. I could bore you all my my personal life, but I will just say I have been preoccupied with an unexpectedly difficult pregnancy. Everything is fine now, but it has just taken all of my mental energy. I want to thank those at Dramione Fanfiction Writers for their WIPtember event and helping me get back into the head space to continue writing. I hope to get as many chapters complete between now and my baby's birth at the end of October. Fear not, this fic is fully planned out and will be completed.

Please read and review.

Love LilithShade x

CHAPTER 22: REALISATION

Sat atop his silken sheets Draco ran his long fingers through the strands of his platinum hair. A deep sigh escaped him as his eyes skimmed over a runic text for what felt to be the hundredth time. At this point he was near certain he could recite the words from memory, yet still they had revealed no clue as to the ancient runes they had discovered. As frustration gripped him, he tossed the book aside on his mattress and collapsed back into his mound of plush pillows.

They had searched for a clue to deciphering the obscure runes for days on end. Soon the days had grown to weeks. Equally enthralled by their mysterious academic pursuit the pair began to spend much of their free time together, hauled up in the Hogwarts Library. They had swiftly agreed to keep their discovery and subsequent research a secret, the unknown information contained within the scroll had been far to expertly concealed to risk it potentially falling into the wrong hands. Granger had told those who bothered to inquire into the increased frequency of their proximity that their Restoration workload was greater than first expected. From what he could garner no one had questioned her excuse any further, all too willing to accept her unfaltering dedication to her education. As for him, no one cared enough to notice his absence from the Great Hall at meals.

Not only had the two spent countless hours alone together in the library, Hermione and himself had spent the last few weekends alone in the common room. Their time together had been dedicated to the study of the texts Granger had acquired from not only a trip to Tomes and Scrolls in Hogsmeade, but also Flourish and Blotts and a range of small independent bookstores on a weekend trip into London.

The time he had spent in her company he had come to acknowledge that not only did the Gryffindor witch make a brilliant research partner, he could no longer deny he genuinely enjoyed her company.

So here he sat, frustrated. Not only that they had yet to find an answer to the mystery of the ancient scroll. But also, that their weekend in solitude had been cut short. Why in Salazar's name did Halloween have to fall on a Sunday this year? Halloween meant that the Eighth years had all returned early from their weekend off grounds to attend the Hogwarts feast.

Granger had not wanted to miss her last Halloween feast as a student, and he did not begrudge her that. He on the other hand could think of little worse than spending his evening in the Great Hall. The disdainful glares from not only the other houses, but also his fellow Slytherins, not to mention even a few of the Professors. He knew exactly what he had done to earn those looks of ire, he knew he deserved them. Yet the preservationists in him was unwilling to subject himself to the reminder too often.

The hours he had spent alone with Granger he could almost forget his past transgressions. She had forgiven him, and for that he was eternally grateful. Others however, were not so quick to forgive, not even to give him the slither of a chance to prove himself. Did he even deserve their forgiveness? Their acceptance? Somehow Granger allowed him to believe, to hope that he did.

A knock on the door shattered the rooms silence, startling him from his reverie. Draco's brows pulled together in confusion, no one knocked on his door. Surely Pansy couldn't be attempting to seduce him again, she had mercifully ignored his existence for the weeks that followed their last argument.

He sprung from the mattress in a fluid motion, gathering his discarded black, long sleeved t-shirt from the foot of the bed as he went. Making his way to the door in a few strides of his long legs, he pulled the t-shirt over his head and onto his body. With a glance at his left forearm to ensure his abhorrent brand was out of sight he opened the door.

For a moment he stood there, stunned at the sight before him. Soon however a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips, one that threatened to break and morph into a true smile. Before him stood a wild mane of untameable hair, the witch to whom it belonged obscured from his sight. Granger, with what appeared to be no small effort was balancing a precarious stack of thick texts, topped by a plate of Pumpkin Pasties and a pair of haphazardly teetering Butterbeers.

The effort of knocking on his door had clearly left the stack unbalanced, the Gryffindor struggling to redistribute the weight. One of the two Butterbeers toppled from its place atop the pile, his Seeker reflexes allowing him to instinctively catch the beverage mid fall. With his free hand he plucked the remaining Butterbeer and plate of pastries from atop the stack.

His eyes met hers, employing his practiced Slytherin sensibilities to contain the mirth in his voice he spoke, "You do remember you're a witch right, Granger? You could have cast a Feather-Light charm or perhaps a Leviosa."

Granger scowled back at him, the faux anger never truly reaching her eyes. He watched her fidget nervously with the now more manageable stack of books before she spoke, "I thought maybe we could do a little more research?"

"The others will be back from the feast soon. We will likely have to answer questions about what we are researching if we are seen together outside the Library. I thought we had discussed this already." Draco stated, his brows pulling together. They had already agreed to the level of secrecy required surrounding the scroll.

The flush on her freckled cheeks deepened. "I... ah, thought perhaps I could come in?"

He was stunned for a moment. It was not as if they had never been in the others rooms before, but those times had been far less than casual; either born of necessity or impulse. Now however, Granger had premeditated her visit to his quarters. While they had each been in the others room once before and the circumstances of both varied greatly, he could not help but recall the common denominator. For at least a portion of both encounters he had been shirtless in her presence. He thought back to the last time she had stood in his doorway. It had not gone unnoticed the way her eyes roamed his bare torso, or that words had temporarily evaded the normally eloquently spoken witch.

Draco was certainly not oblivious to his own physique. He may have shed the vain attitude of his younger years, but he was not blind to the fact he was fit. Some of the lean Seeker quality of his body had been lost over the last few years; between the war and his probation it had been far too long since he had felt a broom beneath him. Yet his months spent on house arrest with no wand had left him little to do but train and condition his body. He was broader, more defined and he knew it.

For a fleeting moment he bemoaned his decision to don a t-shirt. The desire to feel her gaze upon his body, see the fire of temptation ignite within the warm hue of her iris', the deepening flush of her freckled cheeks. No. He needed to stop. He had to stop thinking of her in such a way. She was his friend, if he were being honest with himself, his only friend. He could not risk that to even entertain the notion of anything more with the Gryffindor witch.

Having concluded his internal scolding and suppressing his ever-growing desire, he moved back from the doorway to grant her entry. Granger entered his room with less hesitation than on her last visit, moving swiftly to the end of his bed, placing down her stack of texts atop his mattress and dropping her satchel to the floor with an audible thud. As he moved to seat himself leisurely atop his mattress, back up against his headboard he watched her roll the tension from her shoulders.

"You really should try to remember to charm your belongings to be lighter, you're doing yourself an unnecessary strain Granger."

She was silent as she moved to sit on the edge of his bed beside her books. Her gaze wandered to the floor as she softly confessed, "Honestly, most often I just forget it's even an option. I spent the first eleven years of my life not ever questioning that manual labour was merely an unavoidable necessity of life."

Was she ashamed of the fact she forgot to utilise common charms? The tone of her voice and the way she stared down meekly at her pigeon-toed feet caused an ache to settle in his chest. The fact that his past taunting of her Muggle heritage had contributed to her anguish troubled him in ways he knew not how to name.

He leant forward slightly as he spoke, "There is no reason to feel abashed by such a simple thing Granger. It is quite hard to overcome the ingrained behaviour of our upbringing. Something I am all too familiar with."

He heard her clear her throat softly as she straightened her posture. Turning to grab the book atop the stack and toss it in his direction she changed the subject, "let's get started."

Draco watched her over the top of his own volume on runes as she read another. She seemed uncomfortable, fidgeting and her spine overly straight as she perched on the very edge of his mattress. He wanted to tell her to relax or to make some gesture of comfort, however he knew not what to do or say. Comfort and reassurance, whether physical or verbal were so far outside his own experience, in both giving and receiving.

Eventually a small gasp escaped Grangers lips and her eyes snapped up to meet his own. With a wide grin she climbed onto all fours atop the bed and pounced at him in a distinctly cat like manner. Throwing herself down by his side at the bedhead she thrust the open text towards his face before he had truly had a chance to process her sudden movement.

"Look!" She exclaimed, pointing at a faded symbol he did not recognise.

He took the text from her hands as she withdrew her wand, summoned her small beaded bag and began to forage within for the hidden scroll. As she began to dispel their numerous protective enchantments he read the description beneath the depicted symbol she had shown such excitement over. The text described the symbol as a depiction of a partially obscured rune of ancient origins, found in an undisclosed location Circa 1819.

"Here! This rune here! It looks awfully similar to the one depicted in this text, don't you think, Malfoy?"

He could not help but feel encouraged by the hopeful air to her voice. The two placed the scroll and text side by side, comparing the strokes and curves of each symbol.

After a thorough examination of not only the runes, but also the remainder of the text Draco sighed, "It does appear to be a similar, if not the same rune. But there is no reference to its meaning or context. It isn't even listed where this rune was discovered, or by whom."

Granger, having reapplied the scrolls protective wards and charms, secured the ancient document in the depths of her bag before reaching for the two forgotten Butterbeers. Passing him one of the beverages she leant back against his headboard and took a long sip.

With a smile she looked to him from the corner of her eye. "It may not be much, but it is something. For weeks we have found nothing, this at last is a something. A place to start."

He too took a refreshing sip of his Butterbeer and claimed a Pumpkin Pasty from the plate. Taking a large bite of the pastry he thought over what to do next as he chewed.

He swallowed before he spoke. "We should send owls to both the author and publisher of this text, see if there is any other information they can provide."

"I was thinking the same, it is the next logical step. I'll send correspondence to them both tomorrow."

Granger looked down at the various texts they had read over the course of the evening and sighed, "While I am elated that we finally have a small clue, these were the last academic texts that I could find commercially. I am honestly not sure to go from here if this discovery yields no results."

He pondered her comment for a moment. He did not doubt Granger had been thorough in her gathering of information, if she believed they had studied all commonly available texts he was certain she was correct. There were however, less common sources of information.

"Why do you not organise a viewing at some of the Wizarding Libraries? The Library of Alexandria or perhaps the hidden wing at the Library of Trinity College in Dublin?"

She raised a brow as she replied, "those Libraries are restricted Malfoy."

"What good is being Hermione Granger, golden girl, saviour of the world and Order of Merlin First Class if you can't use it to pull some strings?"

A small smile graced her features in return to his smirk. "I guess you are right. Kingsley does owe me a favour or two, I'll send him an owl come morning as well."

Finishing his pastry, he turned to face her, relieved to find she had fully relaxed to her surroundings over the duration of their research session.

"So, how was the feast?" He inquired as he helped himself to a second Pumpkin Pasty.

"Oh! It was marvellous, Malfoy. Hagrid certainly outdid himself with the giant pumpkins this year."

Draco watched her as she spoke fondly of the half giant and the Great Halls various decorations and enchantments. A small, near indistinguishable smile crept onto his own features as he watched her eyes sparkle in delight and her hand movements grow ever more animate.

"I am glad to hear it was an enjoyable night. Did you get a chance to speak with your friends?" He queried, knowing all too well how her distance from her friends, over the last month in particular, had troubled her.

A deep frown crinkled her brow as her head dropped to focus on the near empty Butterbeer in her grasp. "Neville and Luna said hello, but they sat at the Ravenclaw table tonight. Harry spoke to me a little, but he still isn't speaking to me like he used to, and he still hasn't mentioned our fight. Honestly, I miss him."

Draco felt a mixture of emotions. Anger at the scar head for hurting Granger like he was, and beyond that frustration that the idiot could not even see how it affected her. If he were being honest with himself, he also felt a tinge of jealously that Granger missed the boy wonder.

"What about the Weaslette?"

She gave him a look. He knew all too well she didn't approve of the name, but she had long since stopped objecting outright to its use.

"Somehow she has become even more possessive of him. It's not just me she can't stand to have him around anymore. She has even started to make remarks at Luna. Luna! That girl couldn't be any less interested in Harry. Anyone could see she is in love with Neville. I'm worried about Harry honestly. Their relationship is not healthy. Ginny's behaviour is become increasingly manipulative and I'm not sure Harry can even see it."

Draco scoffed, "I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Potter is blinded by that ginger twat of hers he has his head buried in."

Grangers eyes widened, mouth falling ajar, slapping him across the arm as she exclaimed, "Malfoy!"

He lifted his hands in mock surrender before he smirked and shrugged. "You know I'm right Granger. There is no way Potter wouldn't be seeing how she is treating those around him if he wasn't so distracted by the fact she is regularly parting her legs for him."

The Gryffindor witch huffed and crossed her arms, but did not attempt to disagree.

Finishing her Butterbeer Granger cast a silent Evanesco to clean away the waste they had produced and began to tidy her things. Realising just how late it had become he stood, collected and the stacked the assortment of books from atop his mattress and cast a swift Feather-Light charm before handing her the pile.

He walked her to his door in comfortable silence, the pair having grown accustomed to the others company over the weeks past. He opened the door, peering out into the common room to ensure no one would see the witch leaving his room. Personally, he couldn't care less if she were seen in his company. But she did not deserve the rumours that would surely take hold if she were seen leaving a wizard's quarters at such an hour, especially a wizard as openly despised as he.

"All clear. I'll see you tomorrow morning for Restoration."

He turned to face her, expecting the witch to merely wish him a swift farewell and slip out into the darkness of the night. Yet there she stood, looking up at him with an unreadable expression on her face. His eyes flicked between hers and he noted the slight flush of the skin across the bridge of her nose. Just as the urge to tuck an errant lock of hair behind her ear began to creep to the forefront of his psyche, Granger shattered the moment, pulling her eyes abruptly from his.

"Good night, Malfoy." She announced, turning swiftly and fleeing into the dark common room.

"Good night." He replied softly, knowing she would be too far gone to hear his words.

Closing and warding his door he turned to lean his back up against the hard timber as the realisation crashed down upon him. "Oh fuck. I fancy her."

He pinched the bridge of his nose before running his hands through his hair in frustration. He had danced around this admission for so long, ignoring and compartmentalising any evidence of his growing affection. With a sigh he pried himself off the door, pulling his t-shirt up over his body and discarding it to the floor as he strode towards his bed. Acceptance of his feelings towards the Gryffindor need not change anything. He could control this, keep it under wraps.

Stripping off his trousers and pants he tossed back his covers and climbed into the bed naked, he simply could not muster the energy to clothe himself in his pyjamas at this point. Laying there with arms propped behind his head atop his plush mound of pillows the events of the evening crept into his mind. More accurately thoughts of Granger seeped into the forefront of his memory against his better judgement.

He recalled the flush of her skin across her freckled nose and the way her eyes had glimmered with excitement at the prospect of progress in their research. He distinctly remembered the way she had crawled towards him on all fours atop his mattress, his mind replaying the event in slow motion.

A deep groan escaped him as he felt his blood rush south. He opened his eyes to the sight of his tented blanket, erection throbbing painfully beneath, demanding attention. For a brief moment he considered getting up and fleeing to the Eighth year bathroom for yet another cool shower. Too long had he been ignoring the persistent issue. He had taken to neglecting its occurrence, all too often his thoughts straying in the moment. The seemingly faceless blonde he would conjure to mind morphing into a witch with wild chestnut locks and warm brown eyes with increasing frequency.

He could disregard his problem no longer however, the throbbing ache having spread outward across his pelvis and down to his thighs. He needed relief.

Tossing his blanket aside he inhaled sharply through clenched teeth as his engorged cock met the cool night air. His fist wrapped around his girth, squeezing with a well-practiced pressure. A sizable bead of pre come swelled from his tip and trickled down across his knuckles. Gathering the moisture, he spread it across himself, circling his now slick thumb atop his head with a low moan.

As he began to pump himself with slow, deliberate strokes he allowed himself to finally envision that which he craved. He shut his eyes tight as he again recalled the way Granger had crawled toward him atop his mattress, the swell of her cleavage just visible from his vantage. This time however instead of throwing herself excitedly down by his side, she nestled herself between his thighs. He pictured her untameable curls and the deep comforting hue of her eyes as she looked up into his. The feel of his own grip against his cock morphed into the sensation of her soft, plump lips and warm mouth. His pace increased.

Draco was under no illusion that he would last long, having denied himself this moment too long. His hips bucked up into each forceful stroke, his pace growing erratic as his balls clenched. Abruptly he ceased his motion, tightening the grip on his shaft as his cock twitched. He groaned into his release; thick, long ropes of come landing upon the taut ridges of his chest and abdomen. With a final few languid stokes he released himself with a contented sigh.

Fetching his wand, he cleaned himself up with a silent charm and collapsed back into the mattress fully sated. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he realised that he felt absolutely no remorse for his action. No guilt in his desire for the beautiful, intelligent witch he was thankful to call his friend.