"Long, Long, Long"

Chapter 3

Hermione had some leisure time on a Saturday in mid-January and Harry and Ron had decided to practice quidditch down at the pitch.

"Do you want to come down to the pitch with us, Hermione?" Harry asked, his broom in hand, "We probably won't be out there very long; it's freezing outside."

Hermione put down her book and looked out the window at the snow-covered grounds. "I don't think I will, but have fun. I'll be down in the library."

It was all Harry could do not to roll his eyes. "Alright, then. See you later."

"'Bye," said Hermione, picking up her book to take to her dormitory.

She left through the portrait hole a minute or so later and headed towards the library. The halls seemed even colder than they usually were in the winter, and Hermione was relieved to see a large fire burning in the library. She instinctively headed towards the fiction section in search of a new novel.

While scanning the spines of books something caught Hermione's eye on the other side of the bookshelf. She thought it was a bird of some sort, but when she doubled back to look again, it was gone. There was a student on the other side however, that Hermione couldn't see very well but seemed to be sitting on the window ledge. Upon closer examination, she realized it was Draco.

Hermione instinctively took a step back, not wanting him to see her. But curiosity eventually got the better of her, and she found herself looking through a gap in the books to see what he was up to. He was reading something in his lap, but Hermione could tell it wasn't a book. It was…a small slip of parchment with writing that she couldn't make out from her position. She jumped slightly when Draco stood abruptly and started to cross the room towards the fireplace. It suddenly hit Hermione what the parchment was, and rushed from the row of books she was in to block his path.

"Wait! Malfoy!" she whispered when she got closer. He turned around, startled. "You got another letter. Let me see it!" She tried to take it, but he pulled it out of her reach.

"Why?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"You know perfectly well why; hand it over!"

"No."

"What harm could it do to let me see it, when I already know the worst of it?"

"This one isn't the same. You'd have no interest in it." He quickly tossed it into the flames before she could get her hands on it.

Hermione glared at him. "What did it say?"

Draco was tired of this, "None of your business, Granger! Forget about the letters and leave me alone!" He left the library quickly, not wanting to hear her angry reply. He walked faster, trying to ignore the pang of guilt he felt in his stomach. He soon found himself heading out the front doors onto the cold grounds. He could picture the letter he'd just received in his mind, and it made him feel somewhat ill:

Draco,

I sincerely hope you have been spending your time wisely. The war rapidly approaches--be constantly alert. From the little pieces of information I have received, it seems it will begin in late February, but do not hold me to that; it could start tomorrow. When the time is closer, I will give you your instructions. Obviously the school will close, and everyone will be evacuated. I only hope we can find a way to use everyone's distraction to our advantage and get you back here quickly.

Stay strong, and if for some reason you find yourself losing control, remember that you are a Malfoy and by acting like one you will regain control of that which is important.

Draco did not want to receive his instructions. He did not want to sneak out of school while everyone else was panicking and return to Malfoy manor, where he would be given far more horrible orders than making it out of school unnoticed. His forearm didn't yet bear the Dark Mark, but within a few months, it certainly would.

And then there was the last part. He'd read it and immediately thought of Hermione. What had happened between them was definitely the kind of thing his father meant when he said regain control of that which is important. Keeping the letters secret was important. Avoiding contact with muggle-borns was important. Draco had some regaining control to do.

He'd tried to regain control only a few minutes ago in the library, and he felt guiltier by the second. He couldn't even explain why, except that what he'd said was a complete lie. He'd accidentally made his father's letters Hermione's business, and as for leaving him alone, he knew he didn't really want that either.

Despite what he wanted, perhaps his harshness would keep Hermione away, and that would probably prove to be best as time went on.

…

Hermione didn't take Draco's parting words very well. She watched him leave in a sort of stunned trance. She didn't know what she'd been expecting, but it wasn't what he'd said. She sat down in one of the library's chairs feeling very strange. She knew that under normal circumstances she would have been irritated, but that usually evaporated quickly, and didn't leave her with a queasy feeling.

She knew that whatever it was, it was all her fault; she'd led herself over the past weeks to believe that something in Draco was different, that he was changing for the better. She'd thought they wouldn't have been enemies anymore, that maybe a friendship could form between them.

If he meant what he said, it didn't seem likely.

…

Hermione felt a slight breeze on the back of her neck and opened her eyes. She looked around, confused. She was in the library and it was dark outside, from what she could see out the small window to her left. The flames of a few torches flickered. I must have fallen asleep, she thought to herself, lifting her head from the pages of her book and rubbing her sore neck.

She heard footsteps and the soft swishing of a cloak against the floor. She glanced at her watch, ten o'clock! She must have been exhausted to sleep from the late afternoon until ten. If that's a teacher, detention is unavoidable, she thought to herself miserably. She looked down the dim aisle expectantly, waiting for the person to appear from behind the shelves. She saw a dark figure round the corner, but couldn't make out who it was; the lighting was too dim.

The person jumped about three feet into the air upon seeing Hermione there. "Damn it, Granger, do you want to give me a heart attack!"

"Oh it's you," said Hermione flatly, recognizing the voice of Draco Malfoy.

Draco was still recovering. "What are you doing lurking around in the shadows of the library anyway?"

"Why do you care?" Hermione asked coolly. "And anyway, I could ask you the same question."

"True…" said Draco, "but you didn't answer my question."

"True…" said Hermione, "but you didn't answer mine."

"What? When did you ask anything?"

"If you recall--I know it was all of about two seconds ago, but I can see you're having trouble--I asked: Why do you care?"

"Oh. I guess I don't really."

"Exactly, so why did you ask?" she asked, glaring at him.

Draco stared at her. "Look, I didn't come here to see a psychiatrist, I just need a book."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's nice, Malfoy. Bye." She picked up her book and made to leave.

"Bye, Granger. This was fun. Let's do it again sometime," said Draco blandly, pulling a slip of paper out of his pocket.

Hermione didn't respond and headed for the library doors. She pushed one with her hand. It didn't budge. She pushed harder. Still the door didn't move. It was clearly locked. "Alohomora!" Still nothing.

"Malfoy!" she shouted, frustrated.

"Yes, Granger?" he drawled from somewhere in the darkness.

"How do I get out of here?"

"Did you try the door?" came the sarcastic reply.

"No, I tried to open the wall," said Hermione, just as sarcastically.

Draco's head appeared from around the corner. "Well there's your problem right there. Glad I could be of service."

Hermione shot him an angry look. "I'm serious, Malfoy. The door won't open." Draco heaved a dramatic sigh and walked over to her. He pressed his hand against the wood of the door and gave a slight push. Hermione smiled when the door didn't move. "Hate to say 'I told you so.'"

Draco didn't bother responding. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and mumbled, "Puertabra." Something clicked and the door swung open. Draco grinned as the smile disappeared from Hermione's face. "Smartest witch in the class indeed."

"Thanks for your help, Malfoy," said Hermione dryly. "Why was it locked, anyway?"

Draco looked down at his watch. "Madam Pince probably locks up the library at nine-thirty." He raised an eyebrow at her. "That is, after all, when everybody is supposed to be in their dormitories."

Hermione caught his look. "Alright, so I fell asleep. What's your excuse for being out of bed after hours?"

He shrugged. "I wasn't tired."

Hermione fought off the urge to roll her eyes again. "Typical," she said under her breath.

Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Hermione shrugged casually, adjusting her bag and stepping into the hallway. "Nothing," she said.

Draco grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him before she could leave. "I doubt you didn't mean it. Come on, Granger, I'm pretty sure I can take whatever insult was hidden in that one word."

Hermione was not comfortable with her current position. Draco still had his hand on her upper arm and the distance between them was far too short. She swallowed and tried to keep her voice steady as she said softly, "You just don't seem to care much for the rules, is all."

"You're right;" said Draco, "I don't." With that, he closed the little distance between them and caught her in a kiss. She stiffened, surprised, but soon melted into him. Her bag slipped off her shoulder and fell to the floor, but Hermione didn't even notice. Why was it that a very strange sensation flooded her body when she kissed Draco? Questions popped into her head as she stood there, but they each disappeared rather quickly when Hermione couldn't answer them. Draco's mind didn't bother with questions, rather it just focused on how insane he was to be doing this but yet how much he liked it. Neither knew nor cared when they would stop, but a voice soon interrupted them:

"Hello? Is someone in here?"

Hermione and Draco sprang apart. Both froze, waiting for someone to appear.

"Hello?" repeated the voice, "Students?"

Hermione quickly grabbed her bag, which lay a few feet away. At the moment Hermione stood up again, Madam Pince rounded the corner in a bathrobe, holding a small candle up in the darkness.

"Ms. Granger! Mr. Malfoy! What are you two doing out of bed at this hour? How did you get in here?" She demanded, quickening her pace upon spotting them.

"Sorry, Madam Pince, I fell asleep reading here this afternoon. I…I was just leaving." Well, thought Hermione, at least some of that is truthful.

Madam Pince turned her glare from Hermione to Draco. "And you, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco hesitated. He really had no excuse for being there. And as for how he got in, he knew a passageway into the library from the dungeons that was rarely, if ever, used by anyone else. He didn't much feel like telling Madam Pince about it. "I…" he looked to Hermione for help. She caught his look and just barely tapped the face of her watch and carefully nodded towards the bookshelf behind her, knowing Madam Pince wouldn't see her small movements with her back to Hermione as it was. "I lost track of time and came here to get a book I need," said Draco.

Madam Pince frowned at them. "You both know detentions are in order. Expect to hear from your heads of house in the morning. For now, go to your dormitories." She watched the two students leave the library and headed back to her sleeping quarters, shaking her head and muttering, "youth."

Hermione and Draco quickly left the library and headed towards the nearest staircase. Hermione was a few steps ahead and Draco caught up with her before she went up to Gryffindor tower. "Thanks for that, Granger," he whispered in her ear before giving her a quick kiss and descending the stairs.

Hermione, caught off guard, watched him disappear down the staircase. She allowed herself a small smile as she headed up the steps to her dormitory.

…

"Ms. Granger, may I speak with you for a moment please?" Professor McGonagall asked at breakfast the next day.

Harry and Ron looked at Hermione in confusion. "I'll be back in a minute," she told them and left the Great Hall with her head of house.

When they were out in the corridor, Professor McGonagall turned and frowned at Hermione. "Madam Pince has just told me about last night. I must say, I'm surprised at you."

Hermione looked down ashamedly. "Sorry, Professor."

Professor McGonagall gave her a small smile. "I understand, Ms. Granger, but nonetheless, you must serve detention. Apparently, some second-year students made a large mess in room in the dungeons. I expect to see you downstairs at eight o'clock this evening to help clean it up. Mr. Malfoy will be assisting you."

Hermione nodded, not looking forward to cleaning up whatever the "large mess" was.

Her professor left, and Hermione headed back into the Great Hall. She sat down in her seat, somewhat gloomier than she had been before.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry, noticing her expression.

Hermione looked down at her plate. Harry and Ron didn't yet know she had gotten into trouble the night before. What should she say? Obviously some details would have to be left out, but for the most part, the truth would work. "I've got detention tonight."

Ron looked shocked. "What? Why?"

She moved some food around on her plate. "I fell asleep in the library yesterday, and when I woke up, it was ten o'clock."

"In the evening?" asked Ron incredulously.

"No, Ron," said Hermione with a straight face, "I woke up two hours from now."

Harry broke in to prevent an argument, "Anyway, what happened?"

"Madam Pince found me and told me I'd get a detention today," said Hermione, purposefully leaving out quite a bit of the story.

"But that's not really fair; you couldn't help falling asleep," Harry pointed out logically.

Hermione shrugged. "True, but rules are rules."

"Right…"said Harry, looking at her for a moment. It seemed to Harry that Hermione had been acting a little strange lately; always taking long walks on her own, staring off into space, looking both anxious and a bit confused most of the time…. She just wasn't behaving as she normally did. He knew he should ask her about it, but knowing the way she was now, she'd probably just say that nothing was wrong; that she'd been busy, that's all. Harry seriously doubted this, but still kept his thoughts to himself.