Returning to Hogwarts was only second evil to staying at home. His mother had taken pity on him, not forcing him to ride the train and convincing McGonagall to allow him and the other eighth year Slytherin students to apparate to Hogsmeade and walk the remaining way to the castle. All the eighth-year boys went straight to their dorm to drop off their trunks and ended up staying there for the remainder of the night.

No one wanted them to return to school. That was made clear the first day of class when other houses would turn on their heels rather than pass them in the halls. Even the younger Slytherin students were wary of hanging about the upperclassman. No matter, Draco hated them too. They are all spoils and riches without anything demanded of them.

Forced from them.

That was something he would leave behind in his childhood. Never again would Draco Malfoy bend to the will of another.

There were several days between when they arrived at Hogwarts and the first day of class that Malfoy used to review their summer readings. To say he was behind was an understatement. Everyone else was behind one year because of the war, but for Draco the war started the year prior. There was hardly a single lesson from sixth year that he paid attention too. The instinctual magic- charms, creatures, and flying- he could still excel at no problem. But Draco was not going to step foot in potions or DADA until he had caught up with his peers.

Slughorn had given him extra assignments to work on. Tedious as they were, Draco saw the value in their concepts and felt motivated to get through them as quickly as possible. He finished the first set in less than a day. Draco didn't know why the old man was so invested in helping Draco catch up- maybe in his younger years he found himself being manipulated by the Dark Lord and understood the aftermath. The guilt. The fucking humiliation.

The library had been his home the past three days. There was a table in the back that no other students used, and Madame Pince had yet to nag at him for summoning books. Goyle said he tried looking for him the other day, but Draco thought he was just as likely to vanish in thin air as Goyle was to properly navigate the library.

"Oh."

Draco was pulled from his text and looked up to find no other than Hermione Granger standing in front of him, looking in pain.

No. He knew what she looked like in pain. What she sounded like. This was something else.

"Alright?" Draco asked her when she neglected to make another sound. Granger nodded, still standing in place. At a loss, he looked around him quickly to try and determine what had her so hypnotized. "Are you certain?"

Granger simply hummed in response, hugging her books tightly against her chest. A shaky sigh escaped her, and she shifted her weight slightly as her eyes roamed over him. Large eyes, warm and so dark they looked nearly black.

Draco set down his quill and turned his hands slightly in question. "Do you want this table or something?"

Hermione shook her head, lips parting slightly and Draco was starting to think she was having a go at him.

"Speak, Granger," Draco commanded, probably too harshly.

"I don't want the table," answered Granger, instantly. The sound of her own voice startled her. When she released her iron grip on her books, Draco was surprised she hadn't managed to rip them in half. "Sorry, I'm just surprised."

"Thought you'd seen a ghost?" Draco said, not knowing why he didn't just get up and leave her.

"Don't be silly, I just hadn't seen you since we arrived is all," Granger asked.

"Oh yes, I am the one behaving silly," Draco teased, but it had no animosity.

That was another thing he was happy to leave in his childhood. The world would be better off if people were taught to direct their anger to the people that deserved it, rather than those who were expected to take it.

Granger blushed slightly and looked down, and Draco couldn't fight the small turn of his lip as he watched her. Still, he felt a duty to try and remedy her discomfort. "I arrived with everyone else but have been keeping mostly to myself or the common room. Better that way."

"You don't have to hide. You deserve to be here," Granger replied, sounding more like herself.

Never had he heard the soft and proper voice come to his defense. He leaned back into his chair and started to enjoy the timid way she stood before him. As he relaxed, she visibly got nervous.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, breathlessly.

Draco raised a brow, "What do you think?"

Granger smiled tightly and shrugged. Either too afraid to assume or someone hit her with a confundus charm on her way through the library doors. Draco didn't like the thought of that.

"Come here," Draco commanded, the words escaping him before he gave a second thought.

Granger obediently took a few steps closer until she was standing right on the other side of the table. He looked her over, and there was no charm or potion affecting her. She was still in her right mind. Well, as right as Granger's mind can get.

"Closer," he said mostly as a joke.

Granger swallowed before setting her books down with a soft thud and leaning forward a bit.

"Closer," instructed Draco again, and she fucking listened.

She put both her hands on the table to support herself as she leaned forward further.

She's going to hex me.

"Closer."

Granger shocked him by not going for her wand but biting her lip in hesitation before using the chair next to her to help her climb on the table until she was before him on all fours. He tilted his head slightly, urging her further but too afraid of what his voice would sound like to use it. When she didn't move, he said it anyways, air be damned.

"Closer, Granger," he nearly growled.

With a deep breath, she crawled the short distance across the table until she was right in front of him. Her eyes weren't dark, they were black. Pupils blown and lashes so thick and long he could nearly feel the shift in the air as she blinked. Staying there before him, she waited as he looked over her perfect, tan skin that was sprinkled with freckles on her nose and cheeks. Bloody magnificent.

"Look down," Draco said finally, leaning back in his chair in an effort to look nonchalant but really needing to adjust for the tightness that had grown in his trousers.

Granger obeyed, and at first her hair pooled in front of her eyes, so she used one hand to pull it all over on shoulder as she studied the parchment he had been writing on.

"What is it?" he quizzed her gently.

"This looks like potions notes," she thought out loud before looking back at him and fuck her for looking like that.

"Revising," he said with a grin, which nearly took over his face as he watched her furrow her brows in a way that could only be described as fucking adorable. "That's what I'm doing here. I'm revising."

"Oh!" Granger exclaimed, sitting back on her knees and brushing her palms on her skirt. "Obviously. What are you working on?"

She tilted her head to look back down at his parchment. Draco wished she would bend over again, but instead he leaned forward, resting a forearm on the table right in front of her knees and twirling his quill with his free hand.

"I'm trying to improve before joining our eighth-year class," Draco admitted, though he didn't know why. He just felt like he could.

"If anyone can catch up it's you," Granger said genuinely before looking down and tucking her hands self-consciously between her legs by her knees. If Draco wasn't mistaken, she also wiggled her legs to scoot a little closer to him. "Everlasting Elixir – that's sixth year potions. I took sixth-year potions."

She nodded and spoke so eagerly and innocently and it nearly made him laugh. He twirled his quill, letting the soft part brush against her bare legs. Granger hardly ever wore her robes, the muggle-born and half-bloods typically just wore their uniform shirt and skirt, and bloody hell was Draco grateful for it.

"First in class, I imagine?" Draco asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to make sure she knew how highly he thought of her.

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. "Second."

"Who was first?!" Draco asked, nearly offended.

"Harry."

"No fucking way," Draco said, genuinely irritated. "Potter is a plank."

"Harry is brilliant," Granger retorted, sitting up a little taller in her defiance. "He did cheat, however."

Draco laughed, and a genuine laugh that felt equally foreign as it was enjoyable. Granger grinned a bit herself, looking pleased and slightly smug. Confidence always looked good on her.

She was looking and speaking more like herself, which made her peculiar position only that much more endearing. The feather of his quill brushed against her leg again. Draco intentionally dragged it along her skin, and he would bet ever fucking galleon in his vault, that Granger's legs spread open a little wider.

"Good girls don't cheat, though," Draco's voice was low as he spoke. "Do you?"

"Never," Granger promised.

Draco took a deep breath. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but he knew the stale library air should have been replaced with something else. That something was missing.

Draco gestured to his textbook. "I should get back to-"

"Oh my god!" Granger yelped, jumping off the table suddenly and Draco reached to catch her, but she was too quick, and he had to use the table to conceal his undeniable arousal. She was on her feet, running around the table to grab her books. "I'm so sorry- I don't know why I… I have to go."

The next moment she was gone, and Draco placed his palm on the table to feel the warmth she left behind.

"Should we actually go down to dinner today?" Theo Nott asked the room.

Draco looked over the top of his book for a moment before returning to it without answering.

"Why not. Want to see if the girls are up for it?" Blaise Zabini answered.

"Pansy and Daphne have been having meals in the Great Hall all week. They say its fine. People got over their staring after the first few minutes," Goyle added, visibly excited to get a buffet of food rather than the meals the house elves sent them.

"What of you, Malfoy? Feeling brave?" Nott asked him.

"Feeling tired, you go on," Draco said, lazily.

"We can't hide forever," Blaise snapped.

"Not hiding."

"Are you certain you don't want to come? You seemed in a better mood today," Nott added.

"Damn you, Nott. You weren't supposed to say anything! Now he'll notice and go back to being an insufferable git," Blaise joked.

"I thought I was an insufferable prick," Malfoy said, flipping a page.

Blaise walked towards the door. "Same difference."

"You're just neglecting to eat?" Theo tried again as he was leaving.

"Not hungry." For food.

Blaise waved him off and the boys headed out of the room.

"Want me to bring you anything?" Goyle asked.

I want you to bring me Granger and set her in front of me on her knees. Wait – fuck no. Don't you fucking touch her.

"Pudding be great," Draco conceded, and he was alone.

Finally.

With a flick of his wand, the curtains surrounding the bed were closed and Draco finally undid his trousers to relieve the pressure that hadn't ceased since his time with Granger in the library. It was unbecoming, but once Draco circled his hand around his cock, already half erect, the only thing he saw behind his closed eyes was Granger.

The freckles on her cheeks, the swoop of her nose, the darkness of her eyes. Her fucking eyes- if he was anyone else in the world, he would believe they were saying she wanted him. Salazar, he should have reached out and touched her. Pushed her hair back from her face and see if the brown curls were as soft as they looked. He inhaled, trying to recall what it was like to breath her in when he realized there was nothing to remember. The only scent that surrounded them was his own and the library.

The sight of her crawling towards him… He could die a happy man. He stroked himself from base to tip, running his thumb over the top to spread the moisture that escaped. In his mind, she didn't stop crawling until she was straddling his lap. That made him groan- the thought of feeling Granger's weight on him, lifting and helping her move how he wanted. She was doing such a good job, but the first time he'd have her she needed to be spoiled.

Hand still stroking, he briefly opened his eyes to reset the scene in his mind. Granger stopped in front of him, just like she did today, and sat back. Rather than being a fucking coward, Draco imagined he ran his hands along the inside of her thighs, and she obediently spread them open for him.

Salazar, she listened so well. He should have rewarded her like she deserved. He pictured her taking his direction and leaning back, and he pushed her panties to the side to lick her sweet cunt. Her voice, soft and sweet, would moan and cry out for him as she came.

Draco groaned. Fuck- he was already so close. What would she taste like, could he even imagine? Fuck he couldn't- he had no idea.

Her mouth on him. That would send him over the edge. Granger, kneeling on the floor before him rather than on the table. He didn't look enough at her lips to remember them, but that didn't matter. What he wanted to picture were her eyes, looking up at him and staring, and waiting. What she was waiting for in the library, he would never know. But in his mind, she was waiting for him to come. Working for it. Her cheeks hollowing as she sucked hard and at that image Draco finally came.

He kept stroking himself until he was too sensitive to enjoy the motion. Grabbing his wand, he cleaned himself up and shoved himself back inside his trousers.

The others wouldn't be back for a while, and Draco contemplated going downstairs to join them. It would be worth the stares if he got to see Granger.

What had gotten into him?

Fuck.

Draco really wanted to see her.

Breakfast was the best option for Draco to make his first appearance. There were students that came early, slept in, or skipped it altogether. He walked with Nott and Goyle up from the dungeons and sat facing the other house table next to Pansy.

"Pansy," Draco said in greeting.

"Malfoy. Wasn't expecting to see you here," Pansy replied.

"Surprise," Draco said, looking straight ahead at the Gryffindor table.

He found Granger immediately. Next to her was Cormac Mc-Something-Fucking-Stupid. He was a talentless idiot, sitting far too close. Granger thought so too, as she continued to slide further down the bench. She did talk with him though, happily. She smiled largely and laughed at the undoubted thick bullshit he had to say. Draco finally tore his eyes away to make his tea. When he looked back up, she had moved from her seat, and he found her talking with some bloke at the Ravenclaw table.

The way she troubled her hands like she was nervous had him leaning in. Whatever she was asking, he must have answered the way she wanted as the next moment she was handing something to him. Probably a book. The Ravenclaw – Michael Corner? – unwrapped the package. Granger started overexplaining whatever it was, and she was nervous again.

Rage filled him. Why wouldn't she come to him if she needed something? He ran his hand over his mouth and looked back down.

Fucking hell…

Did she choose him?

He forced himself to eat enough to not raise suspicion and decided the day before must have been all in his imagination.