Draco was tired. Granted, he was nearly always tired, but today had particularly sucked. And it was only ten in the bloody morning. He'd been up all night arguing—actually arguing—with Astoria over researching a cure for Granger. Merlin, he shouldn't have told her who it was for. She practically hexed his balls off. Why the witch couldn't understand the concept of trying to repay a Life Debt was beyond him. It wasn't his fault she'd been under the impression that the student he mentioned was a little kid. Granger was a student in his class. As strange as it was for both of them. He hadn't lied! Not once!

He sighed, tiredly running a hand over his face. Stori was probably just stressed out from all the hours she's been putting in on that charity function she's organizing with Daphne. For what it was worth, it seemed to be finally bringing them closer together. She's been ranting about her efforts in every single letter to him for the last month. It was good—great, even—to see his girlfriend focusing on doing some good in the world. He just wished she would quit taking her stress out on him.

Draco wearily stared up at the monstrosity of a neon sign above him. It was easy to ignore the cool December breeze that tried and failed to numb his body, settling for his face instead. What wasn't so easily ignored was the pang of anxiety that urged him to hurry. The decision a certain curly haired witch had yet to make was driving him mad. She just didn't know it.

That infuriating, stubborn, brilliant witch had better choose to live. He didn't know what he would do if she didn't. They just became friends. That should mean something, shouldn't it? It meant everything to him.

Flashes of her radiant smile crossed his mind. It was such a drastic contrast to the explosions of anger he was accustomed to that it made his head spin. Then there was the moment he heard her giggles for the first time. They had been so completely unexpected; each one left a permanent mark on his soul. Draco had never heard her laugh before. Hell, he'd never seen her smile before this year. Once it happened—once he had her fucking beaming at him—he found himself wanting her to do it again.

Draco found that when she was genuinely happy or amused, it lit her up in the most amazing way, completely transfiguring her from the inside out. He quickly found her happiness was a snitch he needed to catch. He wanted to catch it, hold it somehow so it couldn't slip through his fingers. Every time she shared some of her euphoria, it warmed his dead heart a little more.

He loved her laugh as much as he loved their banter. Ironically, she turned out to be the only person who wasn't either afraid of him or disgusted by him. She didn't look at him as simply another professor she needed to impress. She never once brought up his Mark, either. Merlin, he wasn't sure she remembered it was there half the time. To her... he was simply Malfoy.

Then Draco, in an idiotically Gryffindorish moment, told her to do what would make her happy. He hadn't had the foresight to account for the chance that she might not choose self-preservation. There was a reason the student body named her the Gryffindor Princess, for Merlin's sake! Shit, might as well make her their bloody Queen!

There was no contest for that position. Granger would win every time.

Now that Draco thought about it, he wasn't sure she knew what self-preservation was. No doubt she knew the definition by heart, but in real-world application, she was clueless. The witch acted as though she never spared a single thought toward it. Why did he not think about that factor? He should know that about her better than anyone, except for maybe Potter and the Weasel.

Draco found his mind unable to focus on much of anything else while he paid the barista for three large vanilla cappuccinos. The world around him became essentially white noise. He barely noticed Tonya, though he mindlessly passed her the promised coffee, as his legs hurriedly carried him back to room 4D. Today was the day.

The anxious blonde could have never predicted what he found on the other side of the door. Over the years, the number of times he caught Granger not hiding under bulky robes could fit on one hand. This time topped them all.

Chocolate curls pulled up into a loose, messy bun.

Spots of color staining her rose colored neck and cheeks.

Stray curls that glided across exposed, sun kissed shoulders.

A paint brush behind one of her ears; stained fingers skating across the canvas.

Brows furrowed in concentration; full, pink lips pursed as she studied her work.

Draco swallowed.

Faded jeans hugged her fantastic legs, showcasing her full hips and perky, round ass in a way he hadn't known was possible.

A loose cotton shirt tastefully flaunted the gentle swell of her sweet, perky breasts as her chest steadily rose and fell.

Sinful curves that made simply stretching and leaning a little to the side more sensual than the movement had any right to be.

Merlin, help him. Slytherin green, against light copper skin... and illustrating the figure she hid... This witch was officially going to kill him.

And she didn't even bother to lift her eyes toward the door.

"You should know that Winky paid me a visit."

She says this as if this were just any other day.

As if dressing and acting like a bloody goddess was perfectly normal.

Sure, Granger. Let's go with that.

Draco couldn't find actual words to answer her. His mouth had become a desert.

Granger filled the silence, continuing to not pay him any mind. For the life of him, how could she stand there, act, and talk so normally? Does she have any idea what kind of a temptress she is? Wait. She's dating the Weasel. She probably doesn't.

"I suppose I should thank you for that. She is really a lovely elf."

Right. He'd forgotten he asked Winky to check on Granger today. That was what started the argument with Stori in the first place. When Draco couldn't make his mouth cooperate, Granger finally, mercifully, looked in his direction. What he didn't understand was why she suddenly looked concerned.

"Draco? Are you alright? You look exhausted."

His heart constricted, but he still couldn't make himself say a word.

Granger, much to Draco's chagrin, began to panic. "Did I overstep my bounds? Because I asked her to get it all charged to my..."

Dear sweet mother of Merlin. He had to fix this. Now. He'd buy her all the art supplies in England if she asked. It was just paint, not an entire vault's worth of goblin-wrought silver jewelry or anything.

He also needed something to distract him. His name coming from her lips was beginning to do things to him—and they were involved with other people.

"Granger, calm down," Draco said, cutting her off before she could wind up on one of her rants. He ignored the pang of guilt when she pulled up short.

"When did I become Granger again?"

Get it together, Draco.

"Habit. Now are you going to get your coffee, or am I drinking them both?"

Granger's responding smile made Draco feel ten feet tall. Not that he was telling her that.

"Malfoy! You do care."

He immediately missed hearing his name. Not that he was going to correct her.

She wasn't wrong either, but he wasn't going to openly admit it.

"You're cranky without it," Draco grumbled.

"And yet you're here," she quipped.

Good play, Granger.

Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes at the witch who watched him with twinkling eyes over the rim of her mug and took his usual seat. Not one to take any chances, he leaned back as casually as he could manage and rested his ankle on top of his knee. When did Granger get to be so fucking gorgeous? She needed those ugly Hogwarts robe back. Immediately. She also needed to quit looking at him like that. "What did you decide?" Draco asked abruptly.

Granger blinked rapidly, seemingly surprised at the question. "I thought it was obvious," she answered. Draco stopped and narrowed his eyes slightly as he studied her. "I don't follow." Without saying a word, Granger gestured to the organized chaos that littered the room. "I took your advice," she said, filling in the blanks when Draco didn't speak.

His head snapped back in her direction. Did she...?

Draco's eyes stayed glued to the upturned curve of Granger's lips. "Did it escape your notice that nothing in here is floating?"

Thank fucking Merlin!

"I decided to do something to make me happy, and I can't quite paint if I'm dead, can I?"

Draco felt like he could breathe for the first time since he woke up this morning.

"Granger, that's..."

"Knock, knock!"

Both heads turned towards the unexpected voice.

Long, straight dark hair, longer legs, and hazel eyes appeared in the doorway. "Stori?" Draco sputtered. After their fight that dragged on into the early hours of the morning, the pleasant smile that spread across her face was suspicious. "I just thought I'd stop by and see how Hermione was doing. Given how worried you've been about her..." She let the sentence trail off in a picture of perfect innocence.

Draco pulled on a lifetime of pureblood socialite training to stand and give her a quick kiss on her hand. "You're too kind," he murmured. His eyes darted to the small red packaging she held. "And you've brought a gift."

"Is everything alright?"

Both of them turned to see Granger, who stood in the middle of the room with her head held high. Draco couldn't quite believe it. There was that stubborn, defiant look, and for once it wasn't directed at him.

"Astoria, you should know that Malfoy has been nothing but a perfect gentleman. He's merely been checking on my health and ensuring that I don't fall behind in my classes. That's all."

She was defending him? Again? What was she thinking?

It was only with help from Merlin himself that Draco didn't cringe as Granger grabbed the stack of completed assignments from her nightstand. He knew that walk. He knew that look. Granger had shifted into the Insufferable Swot.

"As you can see, these are all Hogwarts papers—"

"It's... quite alright, Hermione," Astoria said, effectively ending bringing Insufferable Swot Hermione to a stop. "I just wanted to bring you something. A get-well gift."

Granger's neck and face slowly flushed in an adorable shade of pink. It turned out even when she blushed, she could still be defiant. Neither witch broke eye contact with the other. "Thank you," Granger said clearly. "That's incredibly thoughtful."

"Hey! Hermione!"

All heads turned to see three more people that no one expected. How many people knew what was going on here?

"Ginny?" Granger gasped. "Neville? Hannah? How did you all know I was here?"

Weaselette, being, well... Weasel's sister, she wildly barged past the Slytherins, directly toward her missing friend. Draco fully expected violence. Maybe even a bit of arguing. However, both women embraced fiercely instead. His heart squeezed painfully as sounds of unrestrained sobbing filled the room. Longbottom and Abbot soon followed, wrapping the women in their own embrace to form a group hug. Hushed murmurs of encouragement and loud wailing echoed off the walls, leaving Draco and Astoria to observe distantly.

"Don't you ever pull something like this again!" Weaselette growled, though tears were still streaming down her face. "How does the most brilliant witch in the world come up with something so stupid? Do you have any idea what it would have done to the rest of us if you'd let yourself die? DO YOU?"

Draco had been prepared to step in, but Astoria placed a single hand on his shoulder. He glanced at her, who slowly shook her head, as though to say let them be.

Granger gave her friend a watery smile. "I love you too, Gin."

Longbottom took her squarely by the shoulders and gave her a serious look. "I'm with Ginny on this one. You're not in this alone."

It was almost sickening, the affection everywhere, when Abbot placed a hand on top of Longbottom's. "You already helped save the world. The least your friends can do is help look after you. That's what we're here for, isn't it?"

It was a strange twist of irony that their little group gave Draco something to think about. He was supposed to be a friend of hers, too, wasn't he? That meant he could look out for her, too. Couldn't he? If anything, he did owe her for saving his life. That's... that's what friends did.

"So, guys," Granger said nervously. Draco's eyebrows shot up at the change. What was she nervous about?

That's when it dawned on him. Oh, shit. Lavender.

"There's something you all should know."

Draco wanted to groan out loud when he heard her tell-tale light footsteps approaching the door. He desperately wished he could go back to bed. He hadn't had nearly enough sleep for this crowd.

"Alright, Hermione," Lavender's high pitched voice chimed. Like he knew she would, she came to a stuttering stop in the doorway. "Oh."

Showtime, Draco.

"As you can see, Brown," the blonde Slytherin drawled, "Granger turning up missing for a few days causes all the Gryffindorks plus one decided to go snooping around."

It worked like magic. Just like that, the attention got turned onto him, drawing the grilling questions he knew that unbearably nosey bunch was bound to have away from Lavender and Granger. Weaselette, predictably, was the first to bristle and get her wand in a knot. "You knew?"

So it began.

What he hadn't anticipated was the subtle grateful look on Brown's face, nor the spark of open curiosity ignited in Granger. Astoria, fully aware of Draco's tendencies to play the role of Arrogant Asshat, kept her expression neutral.

It took another fifteen minutes and another Mediwizard to get everyone out of the room so Granger could finally get her procedure done. Thankfully, the rest of the bunch determinedly ignored Draco and Astoria while they all waited. Draco wanted to roll his eyes as their conversations got louder, as though their not-so-subtle efforts to pretend he and his girlfriend weren't there were somehow insulting.

Well, he didn't find it insulting. He was used to it. It all must have been more taxing on Stori than he thought, because ten minutes later, she said, "I think I'm going to spend some time with Daph." He couldn't blame her. Being around this bunch was as exhausting as their arguments. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze and was gone before Draco realized she hadn't even given him a kiss goodbye. He sighed. Stori was definitely more wound up than he thought. Every time Pansy did something like this, she had been seriously pissed at him.

Could Astoria still be pissed at him, even after seeing what's going on? Merlin, all he was trying to do was be a decent person. It couldn't be about Granger's blood status, could it? He thought she didn't share in those views. That was a large factor in why he started dating her to begin with. Draco leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees while he cradled his head in his hands. It seemed that no matter what he did, he wasn't going to win.

He didn't know how long he sat like that. As fatigued as he was, all time ceased to mean anything to him. At least for a while.

"Draco!"

The Malfoy heir jerked upright and immediately reached for his wand. "What?" A pair of small hands held his shoulders steady while a pair of amused brown eyes and starlike freckles demanded his attention. "It's just me. Calm down." Draco wanted to calm down; truly, he did, except now he rode in this strange state between calm and anxious excitement. Her curls were tickling his cheek. The scents of vanilla, parchment, and coffee invaded his senses. The constellations she wore dared him to study them. Her upturned lips, mere inches from his, flirted with his torrent of conflicting thoughts.

She is his friend. Only a friend. That's all.

So why did her proximity affect him like this?

Get your shit together and shut it down, Draco.

"I am calm," he drawled, exaggerating an eye roll. "I was testing your reflexes. You're getting rusty, Granger."

He was beginning to hate it when her eyes sparkled like he did something worthy of that.

"Right," she teased, stretching out the i. Mercifully, she righted herself and took a step back. Draco watched her, waiting for her to say something; anything. "Well?" He prompted. He didn't like the drawn out, unanswered questions looming between them. "It was successful," Hermione announced. "I am now essentially a squib."

Draco waited. And waited. And waited a while longer. Yet, the melt down didn't come. The smile on her face didn't leave. If anything, it only grew. She crossed her arms behind her back, swaying from side to side as though this were good news. Draco deliberately watched her face, focusing on her eyes and cheeks while she swayed. He could not find anything to suggest even a tiny morsel of regret.

"Are... you alright?"

Draco's mind blanked altogether when she beamed at him. "Never better."

His mind exploded into shambles as she practically skipped over to the seat beside him. While he was thrilled, ecstatic even, that she chose the option that would prolong her life... shouldn't there also be a bit of bitterness? Remorse, even, for the loss of magic she'd fought so hard to prove she deserved?

Those racing thoughts were silenced, however, when she grabbed his hand. His gaze snapped to hers. She was fucking glowing. "I've had a lot of time to think about it—"

"Of course," Draco said without thinking. Granger nodded, fucking ecstatic. What...?

"—and though I was a bit skeptical at first, about going through with it, given everything that happened..."

Draco silently nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"I thought about what you said, and several very important things came to my attention. Now that it's done—Draco, I'm free."

The Malfoy heir, for the first time in his life, literally sputtered. "What? The bloody hell are you on about, Granger?" Merlin, she just had to choose to turn in her seat and lean closer to him! Draco took a steady breath, hyper focusing only on her features from her nose up. He'd never been more thankful for his lifetime of socialite training than he was today. His trained eye would not look beyond the springy curls that framed her face; he steeled himself against her intoxicating scent.

This witch was out to kill him. He was sure of it.

Idly, he wondered how the Weasel managed to remain oblivious for so many years. Now that Draco had opened his mind, as well as his heart, to this little terror's friendship, he couldn't understand how anyone could be immune to her. Weasel lived with her, worked with her, spent nearly all his time with her for years. How did he miss this menace of a siren? She'd been right in front of his face!

Draco knew with utmost certainty that if he hadn't been such a bigoted git, he would have fallen for her years ago.

"Draco," Granger pressed, and he had to clamp his jaw shut. "I'm free! I never would have guessed that this would wind up being a gift... but it is." Before Draco could question this mad witch's logic, Granger blew his mind once more.

She rose from her seat twirled on the spot, laughing freely in a way he doubted anyone in the wizarding world had ever heard before. "I'm no longer a witch! Not really. Do you know what that means? All those labels, those expectations of me, the slurs that have been thrown my way for years... they don't apply to me anymore!"

She doubled over in a loud, carefree laugh that made Draco wonder whether to feel happiness on her behalf or pity.

"I don't have to push so hard to be the brightest or the best anymore. I can push myself because I want to, not because I have to."

Draco's eyes widened in alarm. "Granger—"

Of course, she waved him off. "Please, Draco. You and I both know that no matter how hard I worked, studied, and practiced, I would always be nearly twelve years behind the rest of you. It is the reason I spent the better part of my life being that, and I quote, 'insufferable swot.' That stigma was going to follow me around for the rest of my life, no matter what I did."

An entirely different understanding hit him like a bludger to the skull.

"I won't have to spent the rest of my life dodging reporters from the Prophet, either, nor will I have to spend it trying to get out of Harry's shadow. You know how much I love Harry, but..." Draco swallowed at the sight of Granger's casual shrug. How long has she been carrying this around? He wasn't sure he recognized this lighter, nearly weightless, Granger in front of him.

"Not that I wouldn't visit, of course. There's still the shop to manage. I have to see Harry and Ron, as they are still family. Not to mention I would be incredibly remiss if I didn't visit you, Ginny, Neville, and Hannah. You're all dear friends of mine, and that's not going to change... "

Panic rooted Draco the spot. "What do you mean, you'll visit? Are you going somewhere?"

Hermione's ramble stopped and she silently blinked, as though she only just thought about what she said. "Draco, I'm not magical anymore. Therefore, I have to move to muggle London and start over. I'm quite literally handicapped in this world now."

"But you can't!" Draco blurted.

His heart nearly seized in his chest when her hands flew to her hips and she narrowed her eyes at him. "And why not?" Granger snapped. "Tell me, Draco, how is a non-magical person supposed to get by in a magical world? Do you really expect me to stand by and watch children wave their wands and cast spells that I no longer can? I can't even do basic lighting or levitating charms anymore!"

"Granger—"

"Don't you Granger me, Malfoy! It was you who encouraged me to take the route that would make me happy, and damn it, I chose to take the path where I wouldn't be shamed anymore for simply existing! I don't want all my hard work to be written off and amounted to my friendships anymore. I don't..."

Draco's world shattered when the first tear fell from those beautiful brown eyes. In one swift movement, the ex-Death Eater leaped from his seat and wrapped the heartbroken muggle born girl tightly in his arms. An onslaught of differing emotions rioted inside him all at once.

Grief. Regret. Remorse. Sympathy. Attachment.

Worst of all: Very Much Unwanted And Unneeded Attraction.

Draco internally commanded his body to heel. Now was not the time. This woman needed comfort and understanding, not hormonal, bodily reactions to her.

Instead, he decided to focus on one small thing at a time.

She was soft and warm. Like any other woman.

Her hair smelled like vanilla with a trace amount of lingering book smell. It was uniquely her.

It was also incredibly soft, much to his surprise.

He could easily rest his cheek on top of her head.

The tenseness of her muscles told on her. She didn't expect him to actually touch her, much less hug her.

Draco squeezed his eyes shut against the thought. It hurt, but that was part of his penance. Years of being a git will take time to erase.

Surprise and elation took hold of him when she finally relaxed against him. Progress.

Draco promised himself that he wouldn't tell a soul how right it felt when she finally, albeit hesitantly, wound her arms around his waist.

They fit like two pieces of a puzzle. And he couldn't tell her.

Could she feel it, too? Or was it just him?

Where did this even come from? Was it genuine attraction, or attachment born from gratitude over saving his life?

"I'm tired of working tirelessly to prove to someone else that I deserve to exist, Draco. My whole life shouldn't amount to books, parchment, ink, and blood. Especially when my efforts won't be recognized by my own merit, but rather by who I know," Granger whispered.

Merlin help him.

She lifted her head just as he was lowering his, and as mahogany silently pleaded with smoke, Draco blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Live with me."

Granger, startled, nearly jumped out of his arms. Draco secured his hold on her, suddenly desperate to not let her get away. "I mean it. If you're going to leave, take me with you. It's going to be one hell of a transition back into the muggle world after living here so long, and, quite frankly, I'm tired of practically living in my office."

Her amusement was worth all the gold in Gringotts.

"You're on parole, Draco."

"Then I'll tell McGonagall to put the Trace on me. You're not supposed to be anywhere without some form of security, anyway. Mediwitch's orders." Thank you, Lavender.

"And what about Astoria?"

Draco's mouth curved into a smirk without him giving it permission to.

"What about the Weasel?"

Granger snorted. Draco knew the feeling.

"You mean you didn't know? Ron and I split up before the start of term."

Interesting.

"If it's alright with you," Draco managed to say calmly. "I'll just ask Stori to move in with us."

"I'm going to be moving into my parent's house," Granger warned, though the words carried no weight in them, "I sincerely doubt she would want to live as a muggle."

Draco couldn't look away from the fondness on her face as she stared up at him. Hell, he wasn't sure he could breathe.

"Honestly, Draco," she playfully chided. "Could you truthfully live as a muggle?"

He didn't hesitate. "Yes."

"With no magic?"

"Yes."

"Around muggle things? You don't even know how to operate a telephone. Or what one of those are for that matter."

"Not a clue. But you can teach me. You forget that I'll have to apparate back to the castle every day, regardless."

"I did not," Granger retorted. The spark of her argumentative nature laced in her words eased the lump in Draco's chest. They were falling back in place. He could do this.

"You did," Draco smirked. "My devilishly good looks tend to do that sort of thing to witches."

This time, it was Granger who smirked. Draco almost forgot his own name. It was a near perfect copy of his own. "I guess it's a good thing I'm not a witch."

Draco's jaw fell open in shock. "You did not just—"

The Malfoy smirk on Granger's face stirred feelings inside him that he couldn't—and wouldn't dare try to—name. It took several moments too long to realize that she didn't deny his good looks, either.

"I think you need to apparate us back to the castle, professor," Granger prompted. "Someone needs to tell the Headmistress that I have to drop out of Hogwarts."

She really needed to stop calling him "Professor."

"Fine," Draco sighed. "I'll ask Winky to get your... art stuff."

"Already have it all in my bag," Granger said proudly, patting the preposterously deceiving small thing at her side.

Of course, she was prepared. Witch or not, this is Granger. One day, Draco would learn to stop underestimating her.