The last practice match of the Quidditch season left Draco feeling exhausted and sore. After a hot shower in the locker room, he took his time heading back to the dorms, taking detours to clear his head. With everything Draco had on his plate, the end of fifth year was his most stressful yet. Not that he wasn't up to the challenge. Draco had always been excellent at compartmentalization and, when he found himself especially overwhelmed, walking helped him reorder his thoughts.

His stress, he supposed, was exacerbated by his bad mood. Ever since Grey returned his mother's book, she had made herself scarce and, with O.W.L.s coming up, his free time was spent studying and writing papers.

Draco sighed quietly, running his fingers through his damp hair as he took a moving staircase to a random floor and began walking the corridor. He tried not to pay attention to where he was—it helped when he completely let go of the external and focused inward—but he couldn't help but admit to himself that he was on the same level as the Hufflepuff dormitory.

Not that he was looking for her…

"—been up all night studying," a voice rang out from behind him, "and I just know there are bags under my eyes."

Draco recognized Daphne Greengrass's voice and silently cursed.

"Me, too," Pansy droned. "I feel like I've aged a decade just preparing for the O.W.L.s. I'll age another before I get through them."

Their voices were growing louder so Draco ducked into a side hallway to avoid running into them. But as he did, a flash of white-blond hair caught his attention and his focused instantly shifted to the slim figure halfway down the hall walking away from him.

Grey.

Draco flicked his wand to muffle his footsteps as he hurried to catch up to her. As he drew closer, he saw she had her nose in a book.

"Enjoying your—"

Before he could get the words out, Grey yelped and spun around. He barely held back his laughter.

"Jumpy, Grey?"

"Draco!" she blurted, surprised. "I—what are you doing here?"

"Walking," he scoffed. "What are you doing here?"

"Reading…" Her eyes slowly skimmed him before she asked, "Did your mother get her book back?"

"Yes."

She nodded, hesitated, then said, "I guess you're talking to me again."

"Obviously."

"And," she began carefully, "what makes you think I want to talk to you?"

Draco's brows lifted in surprise. It wasn't quite fighting back, but she was taking a stand of sorts. He was almost impressed. "Well, you are, aren't you?" he pointed out.

She let out a soft sigh exactly the way his mother did when she was trying to maintain her patience. He couldn't help but grin. She eyed him again, gaze bouncing up and down his figure.

"What?" he snapped.

"I've just…never seen you so dressed down," she said softly.

He looked down at his untucked dress shirt not fully buttoned. He had been so tired after practice that he had barely managed to shower. There was no way he wanted to put all the layers of his uniform back on just to go to bed.

Draco opened his mouth to explain as much when voices interrupted him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the shadows cast by Pansy and Astoria sliding across the hallway opening.

"Damn," he muttered. He clamped a hand over Grey's mouth and pushed her into a nearby window alcove, ignoring her muffled protestations vibrating against his palm. "Shush!" he hissed, and was pleased that she quieted down. He held his breath and listened. As the footsteps moved away, he exhaled in relief and let his hand slide away.

"What are you doing?" she gasped.

"Nothing," he snapped. "I just didn't want to talk to them, that's all."

"Draco, you covered my mouth," she fussed in the mildest manner he had ever heard.

"And?"

"You pushed me." She rubbed her shoulder and Draco realized he had probably used more force than was necessary. "It hurt…"

He swallowed, the tiniest splinter of guilt sliding under his skin. "…Are you all right?"

After a moment, she nodded. "I'm fine. Mostly, you startled me. I dropped my book and—"

Draco looked into the hallway at the open book on the ground, its pages being crushed from the awkward angle. He bent to pick it up even as she shouted, "No, don't!" and lunged to intercept him. He was faster.

"Is this one of Hayden's infamous books?" he teased.

"Give it back," she said, one hand clamping on his arm for leverage as the other reached for her book. He held it away from her, smirking. "Please!"

"And what nonsense is Hayden filling your head with, hm?" Keeping the book held aloft, he tipped his head up to read. "Some boring romance—"

The words died in his throat as his eyes skimmed the erotic lines of text on the page. It was a romance novel. With sex scenes. Explicit ones. Draco was so shocked that, for a moment, he kept reading. All he could think was that Grey had been reading it, had been all year. Grey had. His Grey. The naïve, kind, innocent girl who was nervous to be left alone in the same room with him.

He looked at her and was so stunned by the burning embarrassment on her face that he let her have the book back. He could feel heat creeping into his own cheeks as they stood there quietly, the book's filthy passages screaming into the silence.

"I…you weren't…it's…" she stammered softly, and she sounded so meek that he wondered if she was going to cry. Draco knew he had to take control of the situation immediately or she was going to run off and approaching her again before the year ended would be impossible.

"That was steamy," he said. "I didn't know you were interested. You are full of surprises, Grey."

She continued to stare at the ground. "My uncle is very traditional." She swallowed. "And so is my tutor."

Draco's jaw clenched as he thought of that wretched woman slapping her around just for reading a spicy romance novel. Saving yourself for marriage was an antiquated idea that most Pureblood families had discarded, though not all. Most of the time, the parents did not ask and the children did not tell, and no one cared as long as there were no scandals attached to them. For Draco's part, like most sons, he was expected to be discreet and never to sire any bastards. For daughters, however, the rules ranged from discretion to outright abstinence. Apparently, Grey's uncle was more stringent.

He took a step toward her. "It's okay, you know," he said in as bored a manner as he could manage under the circumstances, "that you're interested."

"I swear, I heard a scream," Pansy's voice rang out from the adjacent corridor.

Draco cursed under his breath and pulled Grey into the alcove again. He hated hiding. It made him feel cowardly. But he wanted this moment to last longer… He looked at Grey cast in shadow, her wide eyes staring at the hallway, anticipating discovery. Draco pulled out his wand and cast a disillusionment charm over them.

Pansy appeared three seconds later, her brows pulled into a frown. Grey leaned into him ever so slightly. They waited quietly, chests heaving with silent breaths, as a second set of footsteps pattered nearby and Daphne appeared.

"There's no one here," Daphne said after a moment.

"I know I heard something," Pansy insisted.

"Maybe it was a ghost."

"It sounded like a girl. Screaming. I just…wanted to make sure she was fine."

Draco's brows shot up in surprise. He couldn't imagine Pansy coming to the rescue of anyone—least of all Grey.

"Well, I don't hear anything now," Daphne said.

"You're right." Pansy sighed. "Let's go."

As their footsteps echoed down the hallway then faded away, Grey tried to step out of the alcove but Draco put his arm out, blocking her in. She looked up at him.

"I'm not going to tell anyone," he said.

She momentarily bit her lip, drawing his gaze. "I didn't think you would. It's just," she toed the stone, "humiliating…"

He grinned. "For you, I'm sure. From where I'm standing, it's incredibly sexy."

Her eyes widened. "What? Why?"

Because after all of the fantasies involving her that he had entertained, knowing she was imagining fantasies of her own was incredibly arousing. He wondered who she imagined she was with when she was all hot and bothered after reading a particularly intimate scene. Was he ever the subject of one of her fantasies?

Draco shook his head. "You are ridiculously naïve," he murmured. "If I kiss you now, will it be your first?"

"Draco, don't tease me. It's not funny. I'm still really embarrassed…" she said, almost pouting, and he damn near kissed her just for that. "It's not just about—well, you know." Her fingertips nervously picked at the pages of the book she clutched to her chest. "I like the romances."

"Why?" he scoffed, his hand sliding off of the wall. She didn't try to leave again. "They're unrealistic drivel."

"Maybe, but it's still nice to imagine."

"Imagine what?"

She shrugged and looked away. "What girl doesn't want to be swept off her feet…?" She cleared her throat. "Besides, I like the idea of being together for love, like both of our parents. It worked out for them, but that doesn't always happen in our world."

He knew that first-hand, as it had been the fate that had befallen his Aunt Bellatrix. His mother rarely spoke of it.

"Your mother will let you marry for love," she continued. "If my uncle has his way, I'll—"

"—be married to me," he finished for her. His wife will be a lucky woman. He wanted to ask what he had done to give her that impression.

"Yes." Grey looked abashed. "I'm sorry my uncle has been giving people the impression the match is set."

"Theo has been a prat about it. Don't change the subject," he snapped.

"What sub—"

"What do you imagine?"

"Uhm." She leaned back against the wall, her free palm lightly bouncing against it. "Being wanted?"

"What else?"

"It's—" Her eyes bounced from his unbuttoned collar to his shoulder—anywhere but his face. "It's embarrassing talking to you about this."

"I already caught you reading smut, Grey. What else is left to be embarrassed about?"

"Draco…" she complained.

"Then should I guess?" he asked as he stepped closer. She shook her head. He grinned. "Maybe I should tell you one of mine?"

When she finally looked up at him, Draco did the thing he had wanted to do since his mother's summer party. He kissed her. She inhaled sharply in surprise as a lightning bolt of desire ripped straight through his body down to his groin. He kissed her slowly, gently, his hands in his pockets keeping him from touching her and driving the pace to an intensity she wasn't ready for. For a second, she was kissing him back, and then he felt her fingers on his chest, pushing him back. He smirked against her mouth and let her move him a single step back.

"Don't tease me, I said," she gasped, blushing prettily.

"But you're so easy," he countered. She smacked his arm and he laughed. "Well, we are matched, aren't we?" She smacked him again. He took her hand under the pretense of stopping her attacks just so he could hold it. "Don't be angry with me. I didn't spread the rumor."

She winced. "I am sorry…but you shouldn't take your revenge out on me. I didn't spread it either."

Draco didn't mind that she thought his kiss was nothing more than revenge. If she thought it meant something romantic, he wouldn't know how to deal with it. "It was your uncle," he reminded her. "Although, I suppose my mother did start it. So, if you'd like your revenge, you can kiss me just this once."

Grey shook her head, a smile cracking on her face. "I wouldn't know how to begin taking revenge on you, Draco Malfoy." She wiggled her hand out of his hold and ducked out of the alcove. "I should get to bed." She started to go, pivoted on her heal, and added, "I'm sure you don't need it, but good luck on your O.W.L.s."

Draco nodded and watched her quickly walk down the hallway. "Grey," he called. She stopped and glanced back. "It was your first, wasn't it?"

From this distance, he couldn't see her blush, but he knew she did. She huffed in embarrassment and hurried away. He chuckled and headed in the opposite direction, toward the Slytherin dormitory. He felt lighter. All of the stress he had been feeling earlier had evaporated. And as he walked back to his room, Draco couldn't stop smiling.


Author's Note: Why are their school scenes so hard to write? Trying to find an opening for that kiss was challenging. It almost didn't happen. Finding a balance between jerk-Draco and a Draco with desires trying to seduce someone was tricky, and I'm not sure I succeeded.

Tom Felton made a comment that he doesn't think Draco would make a good boyfriend, and that's probably true only because he's too selfish for it most of the series, and then utterly terrified the rest of it - not because he doesn't know how. Besides, we do know he makes a good husband someday.

I imagined the window alcove was like the one from The Half-Blood Prince film, that shot of Draco sitting in the window? Something deep-set into the wall that they could reasonable hide inside.