Author's Note: I think I read a fic similar to this a long, long time ago. I'd be happy to give credit to that inspiration piece if I knew what it was. If anyone thinks they know, please share. Thanks!
-x-
The first time it's a scarf.
In the Top Box at the Quidditch World Cup, Draco Malfoy sits between his parents, wishing his father would stop schmoozing the Minister of Magic. It's a distraction from the match. He moves his head to look at his mother, expecting an understanding smirk, and that's when he notices her. Hermione Granger. Draco knew already that she, Potter, and the Weasleys were also in the Top Box. Some insults had been exchanged when they first arrived.
But this, the way he notices her now - This is different. This is the first he's seen her in green, and time slows down.
Granger's in the front row of the box, the furthest seat to the right, smiling brightly as one of the Weasley twins drapes an Ireland scarf around her shoulders. Draco notices how well the green of the scarf flatters her dark skin complexion, and suddenly he's flooded with desire. He puts an elbow on his armrest and, discreetly, covers his mouth with his fisted hand. He bites at one of his knuckles, an attempt to keep himself otherwise composed. She should wear green more often, he thinks to himself.
-x-
The second time it's a jumper.
Umbridge instructed them to check the library for anyone who might be out of breath. Draco finds her leaning against the end of one of the bookcases near the Restricted Section. She holds both her wand and a stitch in her side with the same hand. She inhales and exhales deeply. Draco can't help himself. He pictures her inhaling and exhaling deeply while lying under him, while wearing nothing but this green jumper. And like before, time slows down.
Granger grasps her wand tighter when she sees him approach. "You wouldn't dare," she says. Because she knows. Draco's sure she's picked up on the subtleties, clever as she is.
"Perhaps we could make a deal. My silence in exchange for…" He steps closer. He thinks, There's only one way she would look better than she does while wearing green.
"In exchange for what?" asks Granger. Her words are a teasing dare. Like she's asking if he's really got the nerve to say the rest out loud.
He hasn't. Maybe someday, but not yet. He isn't ready.
He steps back to clear her path and swoops his hand in a right-this-way gesture. "Forget it," he says. "I give my silence freely."
-x-
The third time it's a dress.
It covers her upper half completely, crew neck and long sleeves. But the length? The length is a bit too short to be considered appropriate by Mother's standards. And it's green. Christmas green for Slughorn's Christmas party. Draco hasn't got time to appreciate it as he lies about gate crashing or as Snape drags him off for a private word. But as he heads back to the dungeons, Granger's there in the corridor, waiting for him. And he looks perfect in every way.
"I'm worried about you," she says. "I think you've been tasked with something terrible, and maybe you didn't realize it at first, but now you know you're in over your head. You want out of it, whatever it is, don't you?"
I do, he thinks. But I assure you that's not an option. I've got to do this or my family and I are dead.
They share a long silence. By the end of it, Granger seems to understand the meaning of what Draco hasn't said.
And then something wild happens. "Since we may never get another chance -" says Granger, and she pulls him in for a kiss.
Draco kisses her back. Deeply. Passionately. He pushes her against the wall, looks her over long enough to really appreciate the moment. That's when time slows down. And then he kisses her some more.
-x-
The fourth time it's a pair of pajamas.
Potter's victory over Voldemort is a few hours fresh. Draco and his parents remain at Hogwarts, waiting for the Ministry to determine if they're allowed to stay at the Manor until legal action is taken. Granger enters the Great Hall with wet hair, fresh from bathing, and a pair of green pajamas. In her hand is a wand. His wand.
This is it, then. Much sooner than he expected. They're about to speak for the first time since the truth came out about all the terrible things he's done. Perhaps it's knowing this, not the pajamas, which makes time slow down now.
"Harry was able to fix his," says Granger, handing over Draco's wand.
"Thanks," he says, and he pockets it. He thinks to himself, Will you ever be able to forgive me?
Granger takes his hand in hers. "You're going to be okay," she tells him. "You'll be able to use coercion as a legal defense. And besides, your father controls half of Wizarding Britain's economy. The Wizengamot will go easy on all of you."
"I know that. It's not the Wizengamot I'm worried about."
She doesn't answer right away. When she does, it's with a single word. "Me?"
Draco nods.
Granger smiles kindly. "You don't need to worry about me," she says.
-x-
The fifth time it's Draco's old Quidditch practice shirt.
Granger exits the bathroom wearing it and a pair of his boxer briefs. Time slows down as she tosses the outfit she'd worn for their date into a nearby chair and climbs into bed.
"Hang on a second," says Draco, holding up the blankets. "I want to look at you first."
"Like seeing me in your things, do you?"
"That and seeing you in green. I've always thought it was a great color on you."
"I've always thought it was a great color on you," Granger returns. "And this shirt in particular -" She tugs at the Quidditch shirt. "Mmm."
"Mmm?"
Granger laughs lightly. "Seeing you in this shirt made me pray for your redemption," she teases. Immediately, regrets her words, knowing that Draco's sense of guilt is never far below the surface.
"Do you think that prayer was answered?" he timidly asks.
Granger moves to share Draco's pillow. She puts a hand on his cheek, looks him right in the eyes, and earnestly tells him, "I know it was answered. There isn't a doubt in my mind about that."
They kiss, deeper and more passionate than before, and Draco thinks to himself, I'm falling in love with you, Hermione Granger.
Not long after that, he loses count of how many times he's seen her in green.