A/N: When it rains, it pours - this is what my week was. But I am very much looking forward to give you this chapter. I am a sucker for duelling scenes, and this one was veeeery vaguely inspired by a recent Star Wars movie (the second to last one? Don't ask about a title, I still call them The Lovely Old Ones - the New Old Ones I Don't Like - The New New Ones I Adore).

Endless beta love to niffizzle; she is a blessing!

New D.A.D.A. Professor Oliver Wood might have been inexperienced when it came to teaching, but he compensated at least some of it with his humorous nature and his Scottish brogue. He also had a very good instinct when it came to practical lessons.

"I repeat, your task today is not only to partner up and disarm your opponents, but also to render them incompetent to move without the use of petrification."

Hermione's partner rolled his eyes at the repetition, but Hermione already listed the strengths and weaknesses of the team they would fight against. They were strong; despite favouring Expelliarmus over everything, Harry was a powerful and witty dueller. And Ron, she was quite aware, was too often underestimated, especially when it came to his sharp instinct. She just hoped her team wasn't up for an embarrassing loss.

"Scared, Potter?" Draco taunted, and Hermione could only groan. What a great start.

"You wish, Malfoy," Harry growled.

"Resume your positions, everyone!" Wood announced. "I am going to erect the field perimeters in three, two, one!"

The professor swirled his wand and duelling areas in the form of small fields appeared. As soon as each one was surrounded with orange glowing enchantments that soundproofed the field and provided a safety barrier, Hermione's sole focus was on the task.

And that task was beating her two best friends in a duel.

Harry didn't hesitate. "Expelliarmus!"

Hermione had anticipated that move and blocked Harry's attempt to disarm Draco with a Shield Spell. That gave her partner the chance to fire a curse beneath her shield by quickly dropping to his knees and stinging Ron.

She had no time to appreciate the teamwork. Harry and Ron recovered quickly and fought back with more force. Hermione felt her adrenaline rising, and, judging by the reddened cheeks of Draco, he did as well.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ron mouth something to Harry.

Hair.

It occurred to her that she hadn't thought of pulling it back. Such a stupid mistake!

One, two, three jinxes were directed at her mane, barely deflected by her before Draco could flick his wand. A quick touch to it told Hermione he hadn't cut it off, as she had feared for a moment, but instead magicked it into one long, neat braid — complete with a Slytherin green bow at the end of it. He acknowledged her reaction, a glare that was forty-five percent thankful, with a wink before he was forced to duck under a beam of fire courtesy of Harry.

Damn, they were good. But then again, what did one expect from two wizards who had already been admitted to Auror training?

"Come on. You're Auror material as well!" It was as if Draco had read her thoughts. "We can beat these two dimwits."

He wasn't wrong entirely. The Minister himself had asked Hermione to join the Auror Department. But as much as she loved the challenge innate to a duel, to an investigation, she didn't like the fight. She had fought enough, in a world that was still sometimes foreign to her. Not to mention that some people in this realm didn't exactly want her there.

And that had once included the young man next to her, who now pressed his lips together, concentrating on a complicated curse to throw at Harry. It was to no avail, since the curse was reflected back to him, and Draco only evaded it by a hair. A frown formed on his aristocratic face.

"Ahhh!" she yelled angrily. A spell had targeted her, and the magic — Ron's magic — pulled her wand from her hands.

She had allowed herself to get distracted, and now she had paid for her mistake. A simple Expelliarmus and Ron's stupid grin were her punishment.

"I lost my wand!" she shouted at Draco who didn't take his eyes off of his opponent.

"Fuck!" he first cursed, then grimaced, flicking his wrist to block Harry's Tarantallegra Spell. "We haven't lost yet. Are you ready to show your personal little trick to everyone?"

Hermione barely had time to think about the answer before he acted and she reacted to him. Like in slow motion, she could anticipate his actions.

When he hissed, "Now!" he interrupted his fight with Harry and directed his wand at Ron.

Simultaneously, Hermione ducked under his wand arm, coming to an upright position across from Harry.

The switch of opponents irritated her raven haired friend for the split of a second, and she knew that was the slot they had waited for. Trusting her magic, trusting Draco, she closed her eyes and concentrated. The slight buzzing of magic she felt being emanated from her friends and others in the room. And then, the warm hum of energy that had to be Draco. Strangely comforting, strangely complementing her own magic, even calling to it. She had no idea why she trusted him in this situation, but she instinctively did.

Hermione opened her eyes again, focused on Harry, and thought of disarming him.

"Wha—?" her friend spat out before his precious wand landed in her hands and a Silencing Spell thrown in for good measure rendered him speechless.

She tapped the still fighting Draco's thigh with the pad of her fingers. He blinked once, signalling her that he understood, all while keeping Ron occupied. Hermione tapped a second time, and Draco directed his wand back at Harry while she fired another wandlessly executed Expelliarmus at Ron.

As soon as Hermione had caught Ron's wand, Draco followed up to wrap her friend up tight in conjured ropes against Harry's immobile form.

"Yes!" she shouted in glee, elated that they had beaten two upcoming Aurors. All they had used was cooperation and trust, along with a little bit of magic.

"Well done, witch," Draco praised.

Hermione welcomed the compliment with a warm shudder down her spine. "You excelled, too. We're a good team." She raised her hand for a high-five, realising too late that it was probably a gesture the Head Boy wasn't familiar with.

For a moment, he looked at her hand, blinking. Then, he caught it and wrapped his hand around hers. Hermione resisted the urge to laugh at the comical gesture.

"What did you do, Malfoy?" Ron, struggling against the ropes and raging. Not that Hermione was surprised. He had grown up, but sometimes, he still had a bit of an anger problem.

"It's called magic," Draco replied smugly and with a wink directed at Hermione. "I believe it's something the two of you should be familiar with. Didn't you already sign up for Auror training yet?" He turned around, probably to pack his things. And that was where the scene could have ended.

But Ron just had to speak up. "We have. What are the plans you are pursuing, Malfoy? As a former—"

Hermione acted on instinct. She slashed her wand she had just gathered from the floor to silence Ron. "Whatever you were about to say, Ron, it is uncalled for."

"It's alright, Hermione." Draco's voice was just above a whisper. He placed one hand on her arm as if to calm her, a new gesture coming from the wizard who so rarely initiated physical contact. "I am used to perceptions like this, Weasley. But if you really want to know, my plans are to become an exceptional wizard."

He pretended to blow steam from the tip of his wand as if it were a steaming gun and threw her another wink.

"I think I have to apologise." The two Head students directed their attention back to Ron. "I shouldn't have leashed out at you." Ron's voice was quiet, and he seemed to have found a sudden interest in watching his own feet.

"Thank you, Ronald. That is very mature of you." Hermione meant what she said. She really was proud of her hot-headed friend.

She turned her head to gauge Draco's reaction. He was standing near her, but with more distance than he had during the duel where they had not been even an inch between them at times.

He was still panting, something she hadn't expected from the control he had over his voice, and his cheeks showed that the duel had been challenging him physically. Hermione understood that, for she felt sweat trickling down her back herself. Then, his gaze swapped to hers, and her heartbeat got caught somewhere in her throat.

Draco's eyes had always been expressive to her, be it in anger, fear, or, lately, amusement. But now, they were a swirling sea of emotions: excitement, praise, joy, pride, even a bit of arousal? The intensity washed over her, gnawing at her curiosity. But then, he closed his eyes and said, "Thank you, Weasley. It was a pleasure to engage in a duel with you and Potter."

Again, Hermione heard a strained control in his words, a phrase that seemed ingrained in his habit that he could now rely on. Harry and Ron mumbled something intelligible that sounded a lot like, "Likewise," but her attention remained locked on Draco. His chest was still heaving, but she could see him slowing his breathing down by sheer will.

"Alright, class, time to pack up," Wood's voice broke through her avid concentration. "I'm looking forward to another practical session next lesson since you all did pretty well today."

The wards between the student groups lowered. She saw Draco inhale sharply and return to the present by reopening his eyes.

He gave her one last wink before disappearing into the crowd of students leaving the classroom.

"Wow, Hermione," Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, clapping it approvingly. "You both were brilliant!" There was surprise in his tone. "I mean, we always knew you are, but I hadn't expected you teaming up with Malfoy would be that—" Her best friend seemed to be searching for words.

"I'll help you, mate. We didn't expect the two of you being such a hell of a team!" Ron supplied. He had fully recovered from his anguish and was back to being an all good friend. He burnt quick and hot, but he had gotten much better in controlling his outbursts over the years.

"They are absolutely right, Hermione." Wood had come over, and seeing as Harry, Ron, and her were the only students left in the room, he resorted to using her first name. "You would be a force of nature. You should really consider joining the Aurors. Both of you."

Hermione nodded solemnly, her eyes on the door. "Thank you. I appreciate your praise," she said, mind elsewhere. "But I'm sorry. You must excuse me."

She didn't wait for any of them to respond before sprinting out of the room. She really wanted to talk to Draco about the duel, and after a short sprint, she caught up with him.

"Hey!" she forced out, slightly out of breath.

Draco, on the other hand, had already bounced back to his suave self. "Hey? What an elaborate phrase," he remarked drily but in good spirits.

That changed when Hermione straightforwardly asked, "What are your plans after Hogwarts?"

His face darkened and his lips pressed into a thin line. "That's none of your concern."

"It truly isn't," she admitted, falling into a brisk step next to him. But she wasn't done with him yet. "From what I saw, you really have a penance for duelling. You might be good as an Auror."

He snorted, derisive. "Sure. They're going to welcome me with open arms."

Hermione huffed. "They'd be idiots not to. You possess a Defense talent that is stunning. And I know you well enough by now to see how much you love it."

"Yes, and I also have a track record of affiliating with the Dark Arts, should you of all people have forgotten." His eyes flicked to his sleeve where Hermione knew the remainders of the Dark Mark were hidden.

On instinct, she grabbed his arm and forced him to face her. "I haven't forgotten," she seethed, inexplicably angry all of a sudden. "Stop seeing your past as a burden and treat your history as a treasure where you can pull knowledge from."

He laughed, but there was no humour in it. Hermione felt a tingling of something in her hand where she touched him. A sure sign, she now knew, of an upcoming case of magnetism.

Draco must have felt it, too, for he cautiously removed her hand from his person. There was no aggression, no rejection in his movements. Just carefully executed control.

"You are such an optimist, Hermione."

She listened closely. The atmosphere was charged with energy, like the flood deciding whether to crash on land or ebb down.

"Have you tried signing up for being an Auror?" she asked, somehow not daring herself to react to the covert compliment. Draco deserved to have a chance to pursue his dreams, to make good of his talents like everyone else in their year.

"Of course not." He hesitated, then rolled his eyes. "Did you?"

"What?" The question genuinely confused her. "Why should I?"

He snorted, unbelieving. "Because you would be able to burn them down and even look lovely while doing so."

This time, she blushed. So it had been a compliment.

"I don't want to be an Auror," she said, pushing past the swell of emotions starting to stir inside her. "I want to research, create, spend a few years with that. Then, I want to teach."

He nodded, as if he could see that. "You have it all planned out, it seems. Which field?"

She shrugged because she honestly didn't know yet. "Charms or Transfiguration perhaps. Or maybe Potions, even though that seems a tad ironic now."

Draco chuckled. "A tiny bit. Alright, Professor Granger, I will leave you in the company of your friends now." He nodded towards Harry and Ron who were now approaching. But a slight smile remained on his face, and Hermione felt strangely… balanced.

It was long after she had joined her friends on their way outside that she realised that the magnetic pull had lessened at some point in their conversation, that it hadn't developed into them being glued to each other.

Strange.

"Hey, Hermione!" Upon hearing her name, she banned all thoughts of Malfoy from her head.

"Hi, Terry."

"I was wondering," the Ravenclaw wizard said, "It's a Hogsmeade weekend, and I thought…" he hesitated, before bringing forth, "If you would maybe accompany for a walk through the village? Maybe we can stop for tea somewhere?"

Hermione pondered the offer. Terry was a nice wizard, though not the brightest. But he had a friendly, patient attitude and was easy to talk to. Maybe he was the stability she needed after all the chaos that happened in her life?

She smiled. "That would be lovely."

He beamed back and sauntered off, a spring in his step. Terry Boot couldn't be more different from Draco, even if he tried.

Come Saturday evening, Hermione stormed into the living room, frustrated and annoyed.

"I can't even enjoy a stroll in Hogsmeade without a voice in my head saying, 'This guy can't differentiate between a Stinging Hex and a Needle Jinx!'" She couldn't fully explain her sudden anger, but she was out for an escalation.

And it worked. "So what? Where is the problem?" Draco had gotten up from his place by the fire. Somehow, Hermione had crossed the distance so they were almost chest to chest — or rather, chest to head with the considerable height difference.

"The problem is that the voice in my head sounds exactly like you!" She poked his stomach, praying the magnetic pull wouldn't set in now.

Or maybe, she wished exactly for that?

"I'm sorry I've gotten your subconscious to see reason. That I casually mentioned you deserve to be treated like the fucking smart witch you are," he formulated, his voice an angry timbre.

"The problem is that my mind doesn't see reason, it sees you," she opposed. "With all the involuntary touching, the hidden compliments, and the thrice cursed smirk you bestow upon me, you made a primitive part of my brain keyed to you!"

She tried to control her temper, but it was difficult with him glaring back at her. He was a master of pulling her strings, and now was no difference.

"Your brain simply recognises what's good for you."

"You? You're saying that you are good for me?"

He opened the mouth to say something, but the words never came. He huffed and they were so close Hermione felt his warm breath on her face.

Maybe it was good that the words escaped him, because at this point, Hermione had no idea how she would react or what answer she wished for. Kiss her? Insult her? Both seemed within the realms of possibility.

"I don't know anymore," he finally admitted, his voice quiet and as if primarily directed at himself.

All of her angry energy suddenly left her body, and she replied warily, "Alright."

Then, she turned and left for her bed without so much as a goodbye. She had nothing else to say. At least, nothing that made sense.

Laying on top of the sheets in her pyjamas, she stared at the ceiling for nearly an hour, trying to make sense of her and Malfoy's relationship.

What she didn't hear when she finally fell into a deep, dreamless slumber was the piece of parchment with a potion recipe written in a neat, curved script being pushed under her bedroom door.

When Hermione's eyes blinked open in the early morning hours, she tried to convince herself that everything was alright. That was before she spotted the parchment laying innocently on her side of the bedroom door. One glance and she knew what it was. Draco's recipe and his message to keep her distance. Their distance.

After swallowing the pang of hurt over what had to be rejection, Hermione forced herself to be pragmatic. Now that she had another piece of the puzzle, it should be easier to find a solution to the magnetic pull, right? With her resolution renewed, she passed the still closed bedroom door of the Head Boy and headed to the library somewhat elated.

Two hours later, however, she was more than ready to tear her hair out. Probably looked like it, too.

She had yelled at some second years who wanted her advice on how to brew a love potion and had thrown a notebook at Ron who'd had a question about the adequacy of a rune translation. How he had made it to N.E.W.T. level in that field was an unresolved riddle. Disturbing her research process was a bad idea, and he should have known that.

Sighing, she summoned her notebook back to her desk and rested her head on her hands. "Okay, think about this logically." Voicing her thoughts aloud sometimes helped. "My potion doesn't contain anything that causes magnetism or something like that and has no connection to a Sticking Charm whatsoever."

Again, she checked the ingredients of her recipe. It was her own try on helping individuals with depression. The community might not have realised it entirely yet, but mental illnesses were a thing in the Wizarding World, especially now, after the war, and she didn't exclude herself here. But just like in the Muggle world, people too often were too blind to see.

Draco's potion seemed to aim in a similar direction. Valerian root, lavender, leech juice, and some others. She suspected he was developing a variation of Dreamless Sleep. But no source, no textbook nor tome, brought any revelation that the ingredients they had used or a combination of them would lead to an effect like the one they kept experiencing.

"Think, Hermione, think," she said to herself and took a deep breath. "Take your emotions out of the equation and think rationally; pull a Snape."

Slowly, she counted backwards from ten to zero and then up again, a useful technique she had read about in a Muggle book about meditation. When she opened her eyes, she was calm, focused, and her mind was open to the magnitude of possibilities one could approach a magical riddle with.

The potion ingredients didn't interact with each other, or at least there was no literal record about it. And with the frequency that their common ingredients were used in various combinations, some Potion Master in the past millennium would have encountered a phenomenon like this.

Suddenly, she remembered a philosophy concept she'd once read about.

"Occam's razor, the simplest explanation is often the most likely. Meaning, the cause of the experienced effect probably doesn't lie within the potions Draco and I used." While the words left her mouth, Hermione's brain buzzed. "It's not the potions. It's us!"

She squealed and jumped from her chair, startling a first year that had accidentally wandered in that section. Finally, the dam had broken, and instead of dead ends, the ideas flowed. Obviously, she would have to head to the Transfiguration section! With renewed purpose, Hermione headed off.