A/N: This is the longest chapter yet! Not by a lot, but it is.

Chapter 15

Neither of the two said much of anything the rest of the day. Save for their continuing to practice their Charms in the library, there were no more conversations that brought about extra feelings in the witch, and she was grateful for that...

But conversations were not the only way to stir feelings in someone.

By the time dinner came around, Hermione had experienced a few feelings she wasn't sure how to deal with, all of which were Draco related, confusing, and, at one point, infuriating.

Hermione hadn't been mad at him, moreso at herself, and on more than one occasion she'd almost left his company so that she could be alone and try and make sense of what was happening. She didn't want to seem any more awkward, so she stood her ground and finished up the rest of the study session, doing her best to seem in the moment instead of the "moments".

The first incident was when they'd made it to the back of the library, in the corner with the four house pride chairs. With their packs on the coffee table, Hermione went to work moving all of the chairs along the wall near the crackling fireplace, casting spells easily while Draco set to removing his jacket. While doing so, Hermione's eyes darted towards the movement, and she watched as his arm and chest muscles moved against his shirt, the fabric stretching and accentuating the body of a man underneath. With slightly widened eyes, Hermione turned away from him, only for things to become worse when he walked past her to hang his blazer on the back of the chair closest to them both. He'd gotten close to her as he traveled, and she had to begrudgingly admit that her eyes had moved down to his back side- out of curiosity, of course!- only for him turn back to her with a winning smile.

She'd frozen mid-spell to stare at him, and didn't notice until his smile fell and he looked at her odd stance, asking, "Is this a posture lesson, or..?"

The witch snapped out of it immediately, and lied with seeker speed, "No. I was just waiting for you to move out of the way so I can move the table there."

"Oh! Sorry about that." He said and moved behind her immediately, which she was happy for. Her eyes became slightly larger, the woman exasperated by her own distraction by something as simple as Draco removing his jacket, then she went about moving the table to the spot the blonde recently occupied.

Incident two occurred when Draco had cast a Protego Maxima with a little too much gusto. The strength of his casting, matched with his inexperience, caused an entire bookshelf to be pulled toward the two; the heavy wood and tomes and parchments toppling down onto them. Or it would have, had Draco not been fast enough to grab Hermione by the hand and move them both backwards with quick steps until he was forced to sit in the high-back Gryffindor chair, and she to sit on top of his lap.

The two were frozen in shock as they watched the wave of books and bits of wood come to a deafening rest at their feet, both too in awe at the sight to life their wands and pause the mayhem. They both just looked down at the pile of destruction in awe for a few seconds before Hermione looked back at him, and he looked over at her.

Their faces were close, closer than they'd ever been. There was a breath between them, and their eyes said enough about their alarm at being so close to one another; at the witch sitting in his lap. Draco didn't move a muscle, which was both understandable and confusing. Shouldn't he want to move her, or was he afraid to touch her anymore than he had? She didn't move either, though. Shouldn't she want to move? In their mutual immobility, the two stayed in their spots for a few seconds more, their eyes not leaving the other's face.

Hermione could have sworn that one or the other of them- she couldn't tell you which one, to be honest- began to lean closer to the other, and she swallowed hard, with wide eyes, before she leapt to her feet. This was when she almost ran away, and she wasn't sure anyone would blame her if she had. But running away was something Hermione didn't do often, and she instead busied herself with putting everything back to the way it was, using the Mending charm she'd been practicing. With quick flicks of her wand, the shelf, books and parchment were all back in their original place, and she turned to find that Draco was still sitting.

But his eyes were on the fireplace, his hand up, the man using his thumbnail to slowly scratch just below his bottom lip as he stared off in deep thought.

The witch inhaled before saying, "Thanks for the save. That would have hurt. Badly. I wasn't expecting that to happen."

Her words snapped him out of his mind, and he looked up at her with a small, distracted, smile, saying as he stood, "Magic, right? Who knows. But I'm glad I was able to move you. And I apologize. I think I was overzealous with my efforts. I'll be more cautious next time."

The last incident was their last interaction of the night, and this was the one that made her angry.

Draco had managed to cast the spell with more precision, and the results were becoming more and more impressive every time. But eventually the wizard had had enough of practicing, and turned to her to say, "I'm going to call it a day, Granger." She nodded at him in agreeance, and he asked, "Dinner, then?"

More than anything she wanted to say yes. She would later think on how strange it was that she went from not wanting much to do with him, to spending the entire day with him, and the realization that she was willing to spend even more time with the wizard made her snap into reality.

"I… I think I'm going to go on a walk, actually. I haven't been outside all day, and I need some fresh air." He nodded his understanding, and gave her a smile before extending his hand out to her.

"Be safe out there, then. And thank you for all of the tips and lessons." She eyed his hand before reaching out to take it, the two shaking lightly… but they didn't let go right away.

A few seconds ticked by before either thought to let go, and Hermione caught a hint of pink his face, only noticeable due to candlelight, which had his grey eyes darting away from her and landing on his feet. She took her hand from his once it occurred to her why he looked so awkward.

"I will be. Safe that is," Hermione said, clearing her throat. "And you're most welcome. We'll have to do this again sometime."

"I'd like that," he answered instantly, eagerly.

"I'd like it, too," she added.

The air was thick with tension for a moment, wherein he looked up at her, and she stopped breathing regularly as neither made to leave. It felt like earlier, when she'd been on his lap; when she couldn't tell if they were both leaning in, or just him, or just her. But when she came to her senses and noticed, she gave a quick goodnight before grabbing up her things and walking quickly from the library, and down the stairs towards the winter storm that raged outside.