CHAPTER 5

Midterms are over, middle of November, 1977

Midterm season was over, meaning that if Hermione and Draco even wanted to have another academic bet, they wouldn't have another big grade for a while. There was a lull in academic rigor and they both had more time to themselves, to think and process, and also more time to spend working on their Head Prefect duties.

Hermione spent a few days in ultimate confusion before realizing that it was only her that was left tailspun by the event in the library a week prior. Just as Malfoy said, the kiss seemed to reduce tensions in the room-at least on his end. On her end, she could barely look at the Slytherin without flashing back to the intense and terribly satisfying warmth she had felt in the bookshelves that day. And it was such a short moment. Not barely enough to quench whatever evil part of her that still blushed in the presence of the blond.

It was incredibly maddening to see him completely unaffected and almost irrationally cool during their Prefect meetings while she continued to be trapped in the moment that had put her mind somewhere it never had wanted to go in the first place.

"So it's the typical today," Hermione instructed. "Schedule, citations, paperwork. Then, since we have some free time, we should maybe think about starting on filing."

"Okay."

"Okay?" she questioned out loud in an incredibly brash tone. She hadn't meant to say it out loud. But she was astounded that he would agree with her. It was the first time he hadn't had something to fight back about, or at least a snarky comment to throw out.

"I said, okay. Let's start."

"Yeah, alright. Here are the citation forms."

"Is something wrong?" Malfoy asked, quill twirling in his fingers.

Hermione reached for the apple candy bowl, grabbing two to preoccupy herself and avoid further conversation. "Nope," she said, popping them into her mouth. "I'm cool as a cucumber."

"You're what?"

"You've never heard that phrase before?" she snapped through the candies in her mouth.

Malfoy laughed. "No. Must be a Muggle thing."

"Must be," she muttered back.

They hadn't talked about the incident, not a word, and Malfoy didn't seem anywhere close to being the one to break and mention it. It seemed to have worked for him, so there didn't seem to be any reason to talk. So Hermione continued to pretend like nothing was wrong, but things so obviously were. Until Malfoy noticed a problem, she decided to continue to attempt a facade.

Hermione had almost started on the schedule when Malfoy broke in, pushing a page towards her on her desk. "So, it's Long again. This time he's on the other side of things."

She slid the citation towards her, examining the sheet. Justin Long, Slytherin. A sixth-year prefect who was often missing from his shifts with unexcused absences. He also was terrible at turning in patrol reports. This time, he was in front of them in a write-up from another prefect, who was reporting him for being caught past curfew out of dormitory, snogging a fifth-year Hufflepuff in the dark corners of the castle. Even worse, he had tried to hex the prefect who found him, which was the majority of the report.

Hermione scanned the report form, shaking her head. "Come on, Justin. We need to fire him immediately. This is the best your house can do?"

"The Long family fortune must have played a hand in securing that Prefect badge. Long's good for nothing. The sooner he hits three strikes, the better. Unfortunately, one bad mark's not going to do anything to definitively get him off the team."

"Is disrespecting the Prefect rounds schedule a strike?"

"Yes. So we wait for strike three."

"Hmm." Hermione continued to scan the form. Location: Library. Her eyes snagged on the Location portion of the report, and she nearly choked. Back of the library between the bookshelves. Justin Long and Erin Lockovitch were found embracing and engaging in intimate contact. Past curfew and in a locked and off-limits part of the castle.

Hermione coughed.

"Really thought it was a sacred space."

Hermione froze, shocked at the mention of what had been starting to feel like an imagined moment. "What do you mean?" she clarified, still staring at the form, trying to make sure she wasn't jumping to conclusions.

"Back of the bookshelves. Guess I should have assumed other people had thought of that too."

Hermione took a deep breath to gather all her courage, then raised her head. "We should talk about that."

"About what?"

"... About the bookshelves."

"... What about the bookshelves?"

Hermione knew Malfoy was just trying to infuriate her. "The… you know. The kiss."

"Okay," Malfoy said, leaning back in his chair, away from the paperwork. "What in particular did you want to discuss?"

This left Hermione absolutely grasping at straws. She wasn't as comfortable talking about this so frankly. "Did it satisfy your experiment?"

"The curiosity I had approached with was satisfied.. enough," Draco responded plainly. "Or are you really asking something else?"

"I'm-I'm trying to ask-"

"Are you asking me if I enjoyed it?"

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but her lips just crumpled together instead.

"Did you enjoy it?" asked Malfoy.

"I was the one asking questions," she insisted childishly.

"It was pleasantly surprising," responded Malfoy.

"It was surprising, alright."

"So you enjoyed it."

"I didn't say that."

"You want to do it again?"

"-No."

Draco continued to lean back in his chair, unbothered as ever. He tapped the edge of his quill on his fingers, seeming to be contemplating something.

"I was honest with you about my reasoning for initiating the kiss. I thought it was rational and reasonable and I think you agree with me. So, in the spirit of continuing that honesty, I will admit that my original curiosity was quenched, however, I'm not sure how long the cooling effects may last."

Hermione's heart dropped to her stomach, not believing that this conversation was actually happening. While her heart was pounding and her head was spinning, her brain was still able to comprehend the logical terms Malfoy was putting forward in his speech.

Purely transactional, she thought as she blinked at the blond in front of her. Her eyes glanced towards his lips. What he was saying made too much sense. It was just too short last time. If she really could have gotten her curiosity quenched (Malfoy's words, not hers), then maybe she could also be rid of these horrible physical symptoms.

"Understandable," Hermione said, trying to reign herself back to the logical nature of their conversation. "You still didn't answer the question you put in my mouth, though. Did you enjoy it?"

Malfoy smirked. "Does the answer really matter to our actions moving forward?"

Hermione let out a short laugh. "I guess not. Therefore, we'll both refrain from putting subjective terms on the incident that occurred."

Malfoy stuck his hand out for a handshake, but as Hermione placed her palm to his, he stopped, their hands clasped together between them.

"What should be the actions moving forward?" he clarified, leaning forward slightly.

Hermione refocused herself again. "If," she began, "If any further action is to be taken in the future it shall be discussed and approved by both parties beforehand." There was no denying that there was something, something distracting, between them, but it had to be dealt with intelligently. "No matter what, any arrangement should be used to remove distraction from work, not to contribute to it," she stipulated firmly.

They gave each other a singular nod and shook their already-clasped hands.

Malfoy was uncharacteristically quiet, and Hermione had no idea how to interpret the glint in his eye. Instead, she chose to return to the citation form, making a note on the schedule to keep an eye on Justin Long, and to start sending patrollers out in pairs.

The rest of their short work time was conducted in almost complete silence, no more words being shared between the two. It only made Hermione more aware of the presence beside her at his respective desk, checking away at boxes and finally, at the end of his paper stack, clearing his throat.

"Anyways. I'm off to my hot Friday night date now."

Hermione's ears pricked up. "Are you?"

"Yes," Malfoy continued, standing. "With Blaise Zabini. We're working out Quidditch plays for the next few games. Have a lovely night, Granger."

With that, he was gone, and Hermione could finally sigh aloud her frustration to the empty office air.

.*.*.

End of November 1997

Draco tipped back his Firewhiskey, basking in the moment. He had gotten the words straight from Granger's mouth. She was obviously attracted to him. In no time, he would be reasoning her right into his bed.

"You snogged?" Nott practically shouted. Blaise quieted him down with a smack on the arm. Quieter, Nott leaned forward. "In the library? Wow," he mused.

"Not snogged," Draco unfortunately corrected, raising his glass. "Kissed. Just one short, damned kiss."

Zabini was unimpressed. "It's been two months, mate. A kiss isn't going to impress me. I've still got my beach house, and a feeling that you can't do this after all."

"It's taking time," Draco explained. "But that's just going to make the end victory that much sweeter."

"I think you're lying about even this kiss," Zabini pouted, pouring himself another glass.

Draco nearly flew forward in his seat. "Why would I lie to you, Zabini? We're on an honor system. I wouldn't tarnish my honor."

Nott rolled his eyes, unbeknownst to his two friends.

"But, if you're so impatient and unbelieving, I'll tell you my strategy and why it's working. She'll be begging for me in no time, and that's even more impressive, you have to admit."

Draco recounted his technique, as well as their conversation in the office that evening.

"So you're… making physical contact a practical thing," restated Blaise.

"Exactly."

"And you shook hands on it."

"Yes."

Zabini started laughing so hard he nearly rolled off the couch.

"But you see, that's so important, because it means she's admitting that physical attraction is there," Draco continued, angry at his friend's insolence.

"You're a fucking dunce," Blaise cackled.

"That is kind of genius," Theo admitted quietly.

"Thank you," Draco said emphatically to Theo, folding his arms. "I've been tormenting her long enough to know how she functions. Better than any of you sorry losers do."

Zabini, still on the tail end of his cackling fit, reseated himself and calmed down enough to continue logical conversation. "Okay. So assuming this complicated brain shit works. When are you going to strike?"

"When the time is right," Draco replied. "Or, better yet, she'll be the one to start it."

.*.*.*.

After Justin Long's attack on his fellow Prefect, Hermione had made sure to change the schedules so that no Prefects were alone. Normally she only allowed the Prefects she trusted (including herself) to go solo on rounds, but now it was probably safer to make sure even she and Malfoy had partners roaming the halls at night.

But when Eleanor from Hufflepuff wrote in sick an hour before her scheduled round with Hermione, the Gryffindor was fully prepared to go it alone on the fifth floor patrol.

"She really is sick, my dear. She was vomiting blood which we always take as a serious sign. We think it might have been the potion she was attempting to brew to study for Potions class-the fumes in there were nearly deadly when another student ran to get me. She's fast asleep now on Dreamless while we're working on her stomach lining. Sorry, dear."

Hermione left the Hospital Wing 15 minutes before her patrol, rather distraught. If Eleanor was out for a few days, that would mean they'd have to rework the schedule. It would probably mean picking up an extra shift or two. It would also mean having to coordinate it with-

"Granger," greeted the blond, who was just coming down the hall towards where Hermione was coming from. Behind him was Blaise Zabini whisking along a floating stretcher with a Slytherin in Quidditch gear sprawled across it. Zabini's eyes went huge when he saw Hermione, but she barely noticed. She was busy trying to figure out if she had manifested his presence by thinking about him too much or something-

"What's going on? Don't tell me you're ill. I'm not taking all the excessive shifts you signed up for," Malfoy joked, eyeing her.

"No, actually, my shift partner is down for the count and I was making sure she was okay. Actually, I originally came to make sure she wasn't lying."

Malfoy chuckled, tossing his damp hair. "Who's filling in, then?"

"Well. It's in 10 minutes. So, nobody. But I'm fine on my own-"

"Don't be ridiculous. You established the dumb-ass partner rule, you're obligated to follow it." He turned to the other Slytherin. "If you can take care of Crews from here, I've got some important Head Prefect duties to attend to."

Zabini looked back and forth at the two, over the sizable distance between them. He shook his head side to side slowly, then shrugged, giving a pointed glare to Malfoy. "Duties are duties. Catch you later."

As Zabini trailed off towards the Hospital Wing down the hall with horizontal friend in tow, Malfoy turned on his heel and started off down the hall, Hermione following after him.

"You really don't have to tag along on my patrol," she argued, talking to his back. "I can handle myself. It's one exception."

"There are Justin Longs everywhere," Malfoy drawled, smirking as Hermione caught up to him. "It's no worry. I'm curious to observe you on the job, anyways. Part of my responsibility, to make sure you're conducting rounds correctly."

"Who says I won't be observing you on this patrol?"

Malfoy just gave her a look that made her quickly change topics.

"I assure you, I know what I'm doing."

"I'm joking," Malfoy scoffed. "Where's your patrol? I'll meet you there on the hour. I have to drop off my things."

Hermione sighed, hesitating. "Fifth floor. I'll be by the main west staircase."

.*.*.*.

A long, nearly unbearable shift unfolded in front of Draco as he joined Granger on her patrol. She was thorough, but not in the leisurely way Draco liked to conduct his rounds. She was tense on every move, although there was nothing notable about the night. There were no citations at all, which added up to a rather boring 2 hours.

"I would hate to be caught past curfew by you, Granger. You're terrifying. Holding your wand like you're about to assassinate the next thing that moves."

"You can never be too careful, can you?"

"Try-" Draco came closer to her side, taking her forearm in his hand and lowering it, feeling the tension in her shoulders as he did so. "There. Nothing's going to kill you. We're in Hogwarts. The worst thing you might get is a prank hex from a frightened horny teen, but that would spell certain expulsion for them, so they're in more danger than you."

"I'm fine. I know how to patrol."

Draco knew her fighting back was a defense mechanism, a way to avoid the physical panic she had admitted to feeling with him. Which is why he had taken the shift, to get some more time to warm her up to the feeling, to condition her to become comfortable with her desires.

Speaking of.

"Here," Draco said, holding up an apple candy from his pocket. He tossed the sweet at her, and she caught it with her free hand, slowly unwrapping it and popping it in her mouth.

"How come you always have those?" she asked around the candy.

"They're my favorite."

"They're going to rot my teeth," she said, breaking the hard sweet with her teeth. "Which is terrible. My parents are dentists."

Startled by her sudden personal confession about parents and whatever career they had, Draco kept walking for a bit before he spoke. "What's a dentist?"

"You know, dentists. They take care of people's teeth. Keep them clean, straighten them and all that."

"Can't you just do that with magic?" Draco asked.

"Feasibly, yes," Granger continued. "But Muggles can't, so they have dentists to keep people's teeth healthy." They walked a bit more. "I can't believe you don't know what a dentist is. That's so odd."

"I am not a Muggle."

"Well, neither am I," Hermione suddenly snipped. "Anyways. It's almost the end of the shift. I think we can call it now and just sign off on the empty reports."

"I'm glad for an incident-free night. Means less paperwork for the weekend," Draco muttered as he signed the form Granger had thrust at him. As he was writing, a thud sounded down the hallway, and Granger jumped, wand at the ready. Draco exchanged the quill he was holding for the wand ready at his pocket, and the two advanced towards the sound, unsure of what the noise could have been.

Behind a statue, another scratching sound occurred. Granger peered closer, coming around the back of the statue. "Lumos," she whispered, the tip of her wand lighting up to reveal a small dark shadow pop out right towards her.

Wordlessly, Granger leaped back, colliding into Draco, and the black shadow scurried off, taking a moment to stop and hiss at the two before disappearing behind a corner. Mrs. Norris. "Surprised she's not with Filch," Draco said, noting that Hermione still had her back pressed up against him, though she was lowering her wand after the scare. He looked at her as she turned around, not reinstating the distance between them.

"Listen," she began in an irritated tone, rolling her sleeves anxiously. "About our agreement. I'd like to make a proposal."

Draco raised his eyebrows. He hadn't expected her to come to him so quickly. "Along what terms?"

"I don't feel as if we're on a level playing field," Granger continued, as businesslike as if she were delivering a company pitch. "I feel that an imbalance in our situation could cause even more disturbance than what we existed with before."

"Meaning what?"

In the matter of seconds, Granger had grabbed his collar and dragged his lips down to meet hers. She kissed him, hard, and taken by sharp surprise he reciprocated. Before he could truly comprehend what had happened, she let go, pulling away and letting out a relieved exhale.

"There. Now we're even."

Draco watched the retreating back of the girl, something new washing over him. It wasn't conventional, but it was turning him on. And he was loving it.