I didn't forget this was a Dramionie story too. Don't worry y'all...

Draco hated being nervous. It did not suit him at all. He liked being cool, collected, and in control, but when Granger was around, he felt off kilter, awkward, and slightly sweaty. He found he could manage to keep those troublesome feelings at bay if he avoided thinking about her thighs, a nigh impossible task that was almost as daunting as actually dealing with said emotions. He was truly and royally fucked. And if that wasn't bad enough, he was even feeling a bit spontaneous nowadays, as if the Sorting Hat had suddenly proclaimed spontaneity was a tenant of Slytherin house. 'Damn!' he thought. Perhaps he should have paid better attention to its moronic warbling at the beginning of term, maybe that would better explain the abrupt shift in his behavior. It seemed more sensible than accepting the fact that he actually LIKED Hermione Granger.

Draco stood in front of a mirror in the toilets near the library and carefully checked his reflection one last time. He decided that he looked impeccable. He was dressed in his dark grey woolen trousers and a soft black jumper his mother had given him for his previous birthday. "You always liked black," she had said and it was true.

He wiped his damp palms on his trousers, one does not wipe sweat onto cashmere, and attempted his trademark smirk. He sighed; it just didn't look quite right anymore.

"Nervous are you?" came a voice from right behind him followed by a loud giggle.

He spun quickly, drawing his wand from his left pocket as he did so and pointing it at the speaker. He sneered and dropped his wand arm. It was only Moaning Myrtle.

"Hardly," he scoffed.

"Where are you off to this late at night, meeting a girl Draco?" she crooned.

"Just going to the library," he responded stiffly.

Myrtle shot him a wink before zooming back into a toilet and shrieking,

"Well be sure to let me know how it gooooeeeees!"

'What a menace,' he thought to himself. 'Why couldn't she just stay in her own bathroom?' He quickly left before she could come back and trouble him further. He strolled to the library and made it to the back section just as the clock tower was striking twelve, silently congratulating himself on his impeccable timing.

Hermione was already there of course. She was pacing back and forth with her wand out; her books were already set out neatly on the small table. He felt his breath catch. Was she there simply because she thought she could handle him and wanted to help or maybe, perhaps, she wanted to see him just a little bit. He knew he had made her curious the other day with his behavior in the unused classroom, but was that enough for her to let her guard down? He hoped so.

"Hello Granger. Ready to get started?" he asked and seated himself at the table with a small smile fastidiously ignoring her wand which she had pointed directly at him as soon as he'd spoken.

"I still don't trust you Malfoy."

But all the same she seated herself at the table although she did not put her want away and instead, contented herself with rolling it along her thigh nervously. This did not help Draco's focus as she asked,

"So Arithmancy then. What exactly are you struggling with?"

Draco began his story, explaining how he had grasped the Celtic and next the Aztec problems and calculations with which they had began the term, but when they had moved on to Ancient Egyptian equations he felt completely out of his element and started to fall behind. She listened intently to him as he spoke, her warm eyes never leaving his face. When he finished, she continued to stare contemplatively at him with her head tilted to one side as if he was a particularly complicated Arithmancy problem himself. Finally, she opened her textbook to the proper section and assigned him a few basic proofs to begin with in order to judge his current abilities with the relevant course material.

Eventually, she stopped watching him apprehensively and began her own homework while he was pretending to struggle through the work she had left him with. It became harder and harder for him to focus with her so near, especially because he already knew how to complete the problems. Her hair was piled up onto her head today, and several tendrils had escaped to curl intimately around her slender neck. He wanted to play with them, wrap the strands around his fingers and tug a little to get her attention. She noticed him watching her and asked,

"Stuck already?"

He ground his teeth at her superior tone, but responded cordially.

"Yes, I've made it through the first proof but the second has me a little baffled. I don't understand how the infinity symbol works into the equation."

She carefully and thoroughly explained how to complete the problem, making sure he understood each step and then assigned him another similar problem for him to complete on his own. He watched her over the next hour as much as he thought he could get away with. He had never been this close to her for a sustained period of time without anyone else around and it was quickly becoming addictive. He watched how her foot would jiggle agitatedly when she was reading but stilled when she was writing or working on a problem. He noticed how slim her wrists and fingers were; it made him want to pin her hands over her head and ravish her. He noticed that the orange hue of her sweater did not suit her natural coloring and that he believed she would look best in a sky blue. These observations continued until around one in the morning when she yawned and said that she needed to get to bed. As they packed their bags she commented,

"Well Malfoy, this wasn't completely horrible and I actually managed to get some work done in quiet for a change. Harry and Ron…." she trailed off.

He thought of several unflattering things that he could have finished her sentence with but just barely managed to keep his moth shut about her best friends.

"Next week, same time?" he asked, trying to keep the hopefulness out of his voice.

"Alright then," she returned cautiously.

"Thank you again, Hermione."

He turned abruptly and left the library, too scared to stay and watch her face for a reaction to his words.