The Hogwarts' Annual Championship Tournament of Chess: 4

"I think today's class was fun," Hermione announced as she left her NEWT-level Ancient Runes class, following Draco's lead as they climbed the stairs and winded around corridors. She wasn't paying attention to where they were headed, concentrating on her conversation with Draco and avoiding the students milling about. "Professor Babbling knows what she's talking about. Did you get what she meant when she reviewed that last problem?"

"Mhm," Draco said in response, not noticing she was lagging behind - he was walking quicker than normal and she was short - even as she had to jog to keep up.

"I'm excited to start our assignment, though I wish she had given us more problems to solve instead of adding an essay. Though researching the theory is always fun, translating runes always puts me in a good mood."

Draco finally glanced at her, widening his eyes as he noticed the increasing gap between them. He paused until she caught up with him and then continued marching forward, placing a hand on the small of her back to help her keep up. She sucked in a breath at his touch, his palm warm and comforting. His pinkie finger rested dangerously close to her bum and he didn't let go even though she was keeping pace with him. They had touched before, but always just light taps on shoulders and slapping arms when losing a game of chess, and nothing like now.

This, though, this felt like when they were dancing at the Yule Ball. This felt like they could have been on the date; like they were comfortable enough in a relationship to have this type of contact. Sure, Harry had helped her along if she fell behind - like when she read while she walked with them - but he wouldn't leave his hand on her back and it had never felt like this. She was acutely aware of the minimal distance between them, and how Draco was careful to steer them around groups of students.

"Only you could find translating runes a way to leave you in a good mood," he said in a fond sort of way, and Hermione felt her stomach practically melt. If she had said that to any of her other friends - or, most likely, another guy she was interested in - there was little doubt that she would be teased about it for several days, maybe weeks, while Draco just seemed… almost affectionate about it.

She sucked in several breaths to carry oxygen to her brain after she realized she had been holding her breath for so long that there were spots in her vision. Draco had removed his hand, and she was able to pout about it without him noticing as they climbed the steps to the Owlery. As he led them up, she was provided with a very nice view that was difficult to look away from. She managed to finally wrench her gaze away to the scenery around them as she heard him chuckle, and from the corner of her eye, she saw him glance back at her.

"My eyes are up here, Granger, but I'm glad to know what part of me you appreciate the most." Still chuckling, he ducked into the Owlery, and she followed a beat later, patting her cheeks and hoping her flush went away in the wind.

Get a grip, Granger, she chided herself sternly, biting her lip from the alliteration. Maybe he could sense her eyes on his person, and he didn't know that her eyes at fallen to his arse and that she was distracted by the way it-

With a sharp inhale she pinched her thigh to shift her train of thought as she took another step, shaking her head for good measure.

"What are you mailing?" She asked as soon as she entered, trying to beat any comments he might have. He shot her a look that said he wasn't fooled, and his smirk looked like it wouldn't disappear within the next month, but he accepted her topic change.

"I'm owling my Mother Happy Christmas since she's still in France and I haven't seen her. I think she'd appreciate my letter." Hermione nodded. Both of them opted to stay at Hogwarts over the holiday, which gave them plenty of time to practice and study for their NEWTS.

"Have you talked with her since she left?" Hermione crossed her arms around her middle, shivering slightly despite her robes. She hadn't dressed to be outside, let alone in the tallest tower in the castle that wasn't protecting her from the wind. Draco rolled his eyes, nonverbally casting a Warming Charm on her. There were two types of heat surrounding her then, from his spell and the flush blooming in her chest.

"Occasionally. She's sent a few letters and I've responded with my own. It sounds like she's doing well, but France has always been her favourite place." He looked sad as he raised his arm for his owl, the great Eagle Owl Hermione knew was named Hades. The black owl waited patiently for Draco to tie the letter to its leg, giving a hoot and swift nip on Draco's ear before he took off. With a sigh, she hugged him, laying her head on his chest. His arms came up around her, and she snuggled further into the embrace.

When she was finally released from his hold, what could have been hours or minutes or seconds later, Hermione turned to leave when Draco called for a school owl, and she furrowed her brow.

"I have one other friend than you, Granger," Draco spotted the look on her face, "but I will say you are much prettier than he is. Though, if you ever meet him, do not tell him I said that." Hermione blushed again - the third or fourth time this morning, the realization causing her to stop counting - and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, ignoring when it immediately popped out of place.

"Aren't you Mr. Popular," she teased. "I hardly ever send mail."

Draco shrugged. "Before you, Theo was the only friend I had left." With a groan, Hermione stepped back into Draco, wrapping her arms around him.

After a beat, she glanced up at his face to see his small smile. "You cannot use your sad past to manipulate me into hugging you," she said sternly, but her breath caught and the word in her head froze when he looked at her. Once again they found themselves in a position that could easily lead to a kiss.

Hermione watched with rapt attention as he flicked his gaze first from her eyes to her lips and then back again. Just as she started talking herself into leaning forward, into pressing her mouth against his, he took a step back, out of reach. Once again, her arms crossed over her middle, but this time it wasn't from the chill. She struggled for a beat to form a shaky smile and then pretended to hear something.

"I- I think those are the bells, Draco, we probably should go down to lunch." Without waiting for a response, she turned and hastily made her way out of the Owlery.

"Granger-" Draco said in a sigh behind her, but she didn't bother turning around. She was so preoccupied with trying not to cry that she didn't notice the expression on his face that mirrored hers.


The next couple of months were more fun than Hermione expected. She hadn't noticed how little she'd been around her friends until she spent almost every day with Draco. She missed them, of course, but she hadn't expected the Slytherin to, well, slither his way into her heart so quickly. No pun intended.

He was almost as intelligent as she was, which was expected as she recalled he was just below her in every class they shared, resulting in daily stimulating conversations she didn't know she was lacking. He was witty, too, and sometimes it surprised her how synchronized they could be. She'd mention a footnote in one of their books and he somehow knew where she was going with it.

However, that was frustrating when it came to their chess games. They played at least three games every practice, and while she was learning a lot, he always knew what play she was planning.

"Check," Draco smirked at her, "for the third time this game."

"Shut up," she grumbled, pushing her rook sideways.

"You'll have to watch it, too, I'd noticed Weasley likes to start his matches in the same way and you made a few errors in the beginning. But I think you're losing your edge, Granger. Not that you'd ever had one against me." His smirk grew. Hermione stuck her tongue out at him.

"I told you to shut up, Malfoy."

He frowned. "Malfoy? You've been calling me Draco, and I think I prefer my given name coming from you."

"You're not going to get it until I beat you, Malfoy, and if your teasing is to be believed, that won't happen any time soon." Hermione hid her smile behind a hand as she watched him struggle between his competitive nature that matched hers and his desire to be referred to as Draco. She noticed a gleam in his eyes and was quick to amend her statement.

"That also means no losing on purpose," warned Hermione. Draco cursed, glaring at her.

"Cheeky swot," he said, moving his queen. Hermione kept her face neutral as she moved hers as well, counting out the steps before she could corner his king. She was trying a new gambit this match, and unless he switched up his typical moves – focusing on his knights and a bishop – while he waited for an opening, she should be able to-

"Checkmate!" She shrieked victoriously as he made a fatal mistake and she swooped in on the opportunity. Hermione shot up from her seat, raising her arms above her head and doing a little victory dance around the chessboard. Draco smiled at her, and her breath caught slightly at his beauty, though she hated to admit to it.

Another thing she noticed as she spent more and more time with Draco was her attraction to him. And the more she grew to know him, the more compatible she realized they were. That awareness did very little in calming her crush.

But she refused to tell him.

It had taken her a long time to get Draco out of his shell. He still never told her why he spent the first part of the school year rarely speaking with anyone and practically running from her in the library, but sometimes when they were both exhausted from studying or needed a break from chess, they would sit in front of the fireplace and talk. He told her about his indecision about his future and if he wanted to go into Potions or Auror training, while she told him about what she thought hers would look like.

They even spoke a little on the war, how she Obliviated her parents and had yet to find a way to reverse her spell, how his father was locked in Azkaban and his mother had taken to spending more time in France than in England. He apologized for his actions in their tumultuous history, and she forgave him for being an 'insolent cockroach' for the seven years she'd known him.

After that, he'd been one of her best friends ever since, and she was so proud of how he'd answer questions in class or contribute to Prefect's meetings. (They'd do very quick Head's meetings once a month in between studies to save time.)

But sometimes, he would zone into his homework or get distracted by his next move. Or he would throw his head back when he laughed at something she'd say, and she would almost lose herself as she stared at him. It didn't help that he'd like to tap his fingers on the table or his face when he was lost in thought or finger the chess pieces on occasion, causing Hermione to pay careful attention to the movements of his long fingers. (So she had a thing for hands and fingers, sue her.) At least she hadn't spent every night thinking about his hands and what they would feel like if they could travel under her clothes and to certain places she wanted them to reach-

And at the Yule Ball, when he escorted her into the first dance, holding her close to him, she could almost imagine dancing with him every year at the Malfoy's Yule Balls he told her were a tradition in his family. It could have been from the punch that was spiked by either Seamus or Ernie before the ball began, or how he'd gaped at her when she descended the stairs in her new silver dress – that was not in the exact same shade as his eyes and definitely not the thing that drew her to it in the first place – or how she'd felt his heartbeat loud and strong and comforting when she'd put her head against his chest during their dance.

She could have been just fantasizing it – which was both possible and likely – but he might have held her a little closer than standard friendship decorum required, and maybe he had wrapped one of her curls around his fingers as they waltzed because he wanted to and not because her hair tangled easily. And maybe, just maybe, as the song ended and she had looked up at him, his molten silver eyes meeting her amber ones, he had wanted to kiss her just as much as she had.

Hermione blinked quickly, realizing Draco was calling her name worriedly.

"What?" She tilted her head at the blonde who was carefully holding her by the shoulders.

"You hadn't moved in a minute or two. Are you feeling alright?" He lifted a hand to press it against her forehead. "It doesn't feel like you are running a fever. Why don't we sit down," he offered.

Hermione nodded, staying quiet as she blushed from his proximity to her and the hand on her forehead. Her eyes flicked to his lips for the briefest of moments, and she prayed he hadn't noticed her slipup. She gazed at him when he was otherwise occupied, lest he catch her in the act.

There wasn't anything in his expression that showed he noticed, just the same concern and worry from before, and she assumed she was in the clear. But when she shifted a little to the sofa, he followed until he was closer than before. Her blush burned brighter, and then she noticed she had a hand clutching his chest, his shirt wrinkling in her fingers.

He must have followed her because she had pulled him along. "Sorry," she apologized, but couldn't seem to let him go. Hermione belatedly realized he was still holding her by the shoulders.

Draco pressed even closer, lowering his head slightly so their faces were adjacent. She could smell the spearmint of his toothpaste, and the memory of her Amortentia reappeared in her mind, unbidden.

"Draco?" She whispered the question, afraid that she could break the moment if she spoke too loudly.

There was a beat of silence, two, three, where all Hermione could hear was her heart, and then their lips met. She wasn't sure who kissed who, but the semantics could – and would – be debated later when all of her thoughts hadn't just flown out of her head at the feel of him against her.

The kiss was short before they had pulled back to stare at the other, gauging if the advance was welcome. When neither of them made any indication of stopping, Draco kissed her again, firmer than before. Hermione sighed into him, melting as his hands moved to wrap around her waist.

"What- what are we doing?"

"What does it look like?" He sounded amused, even as a slight growl darkened his voice. "We're snogging." Hermione opened eyes she didn't realize were closed, pulling back to inspect him.

A dark pink blush had bloomed across his cheeks and ears, but his eyes were wild and dark with desire. Hermione felt a thrill in her stomach at the sight of him. She had no idea what she had done that resulted in this, but she wasn't complaining. The opposite, in fact.

"And you're okay with that?" She asked almost tentatively, trying to hide her uncertainty and hesitation.

Draco barked out a laugh. "Granger, I couldn't be more ecstatic," he chuckled, pressing her against him. Dimly, Hermione realized she still had one hand curled around the fabric of his shirt, while the other had slid up to his nape to play with his hair.

"Me too," she said in a whisper, closing her eyes and snogging him again. Hermione stepped backward until her knees hit the sofa, Draco following her and refusing to let their lips part for more than a second. Hermione all but collapsed onto the sofa, her shaking legs unable to hold her up any longer.

She could feel his smirk against her. "Eager, are we Granger?"

"In your dreams, Malfoy," she shot back.

"Oh, you are," his suggestive tone caused her to bite his bottom lip in retaliation, drawing a groan from him.

They snogged until the Room of Requirement decided enough was enough and moved the grandfather clock closer to the sofa, which rang at the late hour. Their kisses slowed to a long, deep kiss that had her toes curling in delight before they pulled away, panting heavily.

"It's- it's late," Hermione managed. Draco nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I'm requesting a change to our schedules, Granger," he said, and she raised an eyebrow, unsure of the sudden change in topic. "I want to meet on Sundays as well, and so on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays we can snog the entire time."

"What about studying?" Hermione frowned, hiding her amusement. "Our schedule works, why change it?"

Her conviction made him pause, narrowing his eyes calculatingly. "Because I would much rather snog you than do anything else. But fine, we'll study Mondays and Fridays. Chess practice can stay the same because you need the help-" she smacked him gently, "-as long as you promise we can snog for a little in between games." Hermione pretended to think, raising a hand to his face, a finger stroking lightly beside the corner of his mouth. He bit it playfully, drawing a surprised squeal from her.

"That seems like a good deal to me."

Their new schedule worked much better than their old one, incorporating "rest days" that were just an excuse to spend afternoons talking and fooling around.


"Don't use the French Defense," Draco warned her as she snuggled up against him on the sofa. They each had a different book on chess in their hands and were attempting to find new techniques.

"Why not?" Hermione lowered her book to look at him.

"I don't like France," he said seriously, and Hermione gasped, hitting him gently with her book.

"Draco! You can't avoid things because you don't like France," she chastised. "Why don't you like France, anyways? How can you dislike an entire country?"

He shrugged behind her, and she could only feel the movement. "When I was a boy and was visiting my family's chateau in France, there was this mean boy." Hermione waited for the rest of the story, but it seemed that was all he had. She hit him again.

"Draco!" He laughed, catching her hand and placing a kiss on the back of it, causing her to melt against him.

"In all seriousness, I'd avoid using the French Defense. It tends to lead to slower games unless you're up against someone who knows what they're doing. Here, look at this," he said, trying to flip pages in his book without releasing her hand. Though Hermione knew she should be focusing on what he was saying, all she could do was smile and think of how lucky she was to have him with her. She made noises in agreement, though she wasn't listening to him at all.

After a few pages, he turned to her, glaring slightly. "You haven't listened to a word I said, have you?"

She smiled sheepishly in response. Draco tossed his book onto the ground and pushed her deeper into the sofa, rolling so he was almost on top of her.

"How could you ever hope to beat Weasley if you don't study, Granger," he teased. "I never thought I'd be chastising Hermione Granger to get her to study, either. It must be my charm that's distracting you."

"Then maybe you should go so I can study in peace." His lecherous grin slipped off his face, and his voice raised into a whine.

"No, don't make me leave, I love it here," he said, holding her tightly.

"What do I get in return?"

He mumbled something incoherent, the words "Slytherin" and "witch" the only things she could make out. "I'll snog you anytime, anywhere."

"That sounds like something you want," teasing, Hermione kept her stoic expression.

"It is," Draco admitted, "but you love it too. I'll try not to be as distracting, but I must point out that you were the one to stop paying attention first."

Hermione blushed. "While that may be true, we just have to ignore that fact to keep up my reputation as the swot." They grew very distracted in another heavy snogging session when a loud thud caused both of them to jump.

There was a four-poster, ornate bed pushed up against a wall, complete with drawback curtains for privacy. Sneaking a glance at Draco, Hermione noted he was as red as she was, but his smirk when he turned back to her was almost feral.

"It seems the Room and I have the same idea," he purred. "Would you care to join me on the bed?" Hermione bit her lip, losing focus when Draco's pupils became a darker molten colour.

"Just another match or two, and then we can call it a night," she suggested.

With a sigh, Draco stole a quick peck and then sat up, pulling her with him so they were back in their original position on the sofa. "With this much talent and dedicated talent, I can already picture you beating Weasley. It'll be glorious, and I'll know my girlfriend beat the wizard who won against McGonagall's giant chess set. The fucking legend himself," he sneered but glanced at her to see how she would respond.

While Draco and Hermione had yet to talk about what their relationship entailed, they did have a penchant for snogging behind tapestries in between classes or in the Room of Requirement any chance they could sneak away. They even skipped meals a few times to grab some snacks from the kitchens and wander outside while everyone else was eating.

A giant smile grew on Hermione's face as she thought of being Draco Malfoy's girlfriend, of calling him her boyfriend on a regular basis. She kissed him softly.

"If you put the effort in your games, you could beat Ronald yourself, and then I'll be the one to tell my friends my boyfriend bested the 'fucking legend' with pure talent." His resulting smile stole her breath away.

"You might want to start preparing for a beating if we face each other; this new incentive is enough to spur me on to win," he said with delight, and Hermione kissed his jaw.

"You can do your best in the tournament and it still won't be enough to beat me," she chuckled, and he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Excuse me, but I believe I beat you in the last match we played," he said, sounding affronted.

Hermione snorted. "And I beat you the match before that. Despite the fact that you were trying to seduce me as a distraction."

There was a long beat as they held each other for a moment before Draco said what was circling in both their minds.

"Best two out of three?"

"You're on, Malfoy."


"Focus, Draco," she tried to say sternly, but he knew exactly what expression was on his face and her resolve was quickly crumbling.

To stay focused on her homework, she envisioned receiving her NEWT results, picturing the parchment in her hands and feeling the horror of all her scores listed as Exceeds Expectations - or worse: an Acceptable. If she wasn't using all of her mental energy to picture such a horrific scene in order to concentrate, it would have been almost funny how the worst score imaginable for her was an A, compared to what she was sure Draco would get if he continued to be distracted as they studied. (If he didn't get his act together soon, he'd end up with a roll of T's, she would threaten, but he never seemed to take her seriously. Not when he could press his lips against her neck and suck and then she'd forget what she was talking about.)

"I'm focused," he said, and she rolled her eyes even though he technically was correct. He was pointedly staring at her, undressing her with his eyes, and she had to steel her resolve. If she looked at him now, at the lust in his gaze, she would lose and they both knew it.

"Focus on your schoolwork," Hermione forced out through gritted teeth, sliding her chair sideways and away from him only for him to shift in her direction. With a vibration under their feet, the Room of Requirement slid the floorboards under Draco's chair until he was on the opposite end of the table, holding onto his seat with all his might.

Fighting a smile, Hermione thanked the Room, glad it understood her need to study. "Draco, we've only been studying for ten minutes. You could go another hour without a snog."

"A proper snog with you? Five minutes," he countered.

"Study until a quarter to six and we can do whatever until dinner."

"Ten minutes." He narrowed his eyes, tongue darting out to lick his lips. Hermione watched him, transfixed, but drew herself up.

"Half hour or I will study all night in Gryffindor tower." Draco made a noise of assent, looking thoroughly put out except for the slight curl of his lips, making her realize what he was up to.

"You wanted a half hour, you prat," she hissed, glaring at him from across the table. His lips twitched and she internally yelled at herself for focusing on them when she had her Potions essay right in front of her.

"I know my witch, Granger, and though you have the Room on your side, you're still predictable to me."

He was all smiles and smug looks until five minutes passed and her foot was sliding up his leg, and she could feel the way it tensed through his trousers. She stroked from his ankle to his knee a couple of times, thanking the Room of Requirement for creating a table small enough for her leg to reach across to him. Once his face had flushed a deep red, she let her leg stretch so her foot was brushing the top of his thighs. He snagged her foot, holding it in place by her ankle.

"I didn't even notice you had taken off your shoes," he murmured, silver eyes that had darkened a few shades boring into her own that undoubtedly matched. "Careful now, you're starting something before your half hour of schoolwork is up."

"I'm not starting anything," she said innocently. "I've made it through half my Potions essay already."

"Then I'll let you get back to work." He lightly grazed her ankle with the pads of his fingertips, smirking as she shuddered and then gently releasing her. "Be warned, however, this interaction will not be easily forgotten in the-" he glanced briefly at the grandfather clock, "twenty-five minutes you have left."

She was in deep trouble, and that thought lit an inferno in her.


a/n: idk how many of you have seen Encanto, but the RoR is starting to give me the same vibes as Casita.

Anyways, I've mapped out maybe 8, 9 chapters total? So we're almost halfway there. Yay. I want it to be longer because I apparently don't like to write short stories but there's not much I can add without dragging it out and making it boring. I didn't particularly care for getting these two together this early into the story (honestly, it was earlier, and I had to add a bunch of things, which is why the Yule Ball briefly appears in this chapter as well) but the focus for Hermione is the tournament. Draco is just an added bonus.

Next update: 7/25

- Meg