Two days later, Hermione was pacing her classroom, waiting for the Slytherins to arrive again. She had not seen Draco in the past two days, and she was relieved. She had not wanted to be in the same room with him alone again. A minute before the bell was due to ring, the students ambled into the room in twos and threes. They all headed back to the seats that they had picked during their last class. To her surprise, the class was full by the time the bell rang. No, she was still missing Malfoy.

He strolled through the doorway just as it stopped ringing, walked up to the front desk once again, and slid into the seat. He nodded in greeting to Hermione, and opened his book. The others followed suit.

Slightly disconcerted, Hermione picked up the lesson where she had left off. More students paid attention this time, and a few were even civil to her, answering questions and supplying great feedback. In addition, most of them had remembered their Daily Prophet. Crabbe, who had forgotten his, had raised his hand and explained that his subscription order had not begun yet. He assured her that he would have his paper by next class.

The only minor trouble occurred when Pansy Parkinson muttered, "Mudblood" under her breath loud enough for her group of friends to hear. The lot of them began giggling and completely disrupted the debate between Blaise and Draco.

Draco had stopped in mid-sentence, and glared at the girl. "Parkinson! Ten points. You can thank yourself later when we don't win the House Cup."

Pansy had muttered something about Quidditch seekers who still couldn't catch the snitch being the cause of losing so many years in a row, but Malfoy had simply ignored that comment. Hermione just stood there and allowed the altercation to finish on its own. She could hardly believe it when the bell rang. The time had passed quickly, and work had actually been completed. She was very pleased.

As the Slytherins made their way out of the classroom, Hermione laid aside the Daily Prophet she had been holding. "Mr. Malfoy."

Draco had been at the end of the line, since his desk was in the front of the room. He halted and looked up at her. "Yes, Professor?"

Hermione screwed up her face and spit out the words that she was thinking. "Thank you."

The familiar cocky grin flashed and he tilted his head to one side. "Any time." Then, he strolled out the door once again.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione began to prepare for the fourth years who were now wandering into the room.

The first weeks of the school year passed quickly, and Hermione settled into a routine by the middle of October. She still talked to Harry and Ron a lot, but the trio spent less time in the public's eye. She, Harry, Ron, and Professor McGonagell had all had a discussion in the beginning of the year about their friendship. It was made clear to the two boys that if a young female teacher was seen too much with two male students, assumptions would be made, even though the three of them had been friends since first year. Also, it would appear that Hermione had favorites. Which was far from the truth, according to Ron.

"Bloody hell," cried Ron one evening when he and Harry were studying together in the library. "You'd think Hermione would give us a break because we're her friends. I feel like she marks us harder than the Slytherins."

"You heard what McGonagell said," replied Harry. "If she marks any of the seventh-years differently because of prejudice, you and I will have to pay the consequences. Defense Against the Dark Arts one-on-one sessions with Snape." Harry shuddered at the thought. "She's just doing her job."

"I guess so." Ron didn't seem convinced. "I just wonder if she's getting back at you and me for all the work we tricked her into doing for us during fifth year."

Harry smirked. "That was quite nicely done, wasn't it?" He was silent a moment, staring off into space. All of a sudden, Harry poked Ron. "Check that out. Malfoy. He's in the library again. I've never seen him here as often as I have this year."

Ron gazed over at the table in the corner where Malfoy sat, who seemed immersed in a Daily Prophet. "What do you think he's doing? Reading the comics?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. Don't you think it's strange, though, that Crabbe and Goyle are never around him anymore? And, he rarely makes any more snide remarks about muggle-borns? I haven't heard him whining my name in the halls either this year." He turned back to Ron. "What gives?"

"I don't know," Ron responded. "He's almost being nice to everyone. Keeping to himself, but actually being civil. I watched him open a door for Lavender and Parvati the other day."

"He can't stand Lavender and Parvati. I once heard him tell Goyle that they gossiped more than Pansy Parkinson does."

"I can't either, for that matter," said Ron. He turned a page in his DADA book, looking for information to back up an answer to an essay question. "Hey, have you answered number four yet? I can't find a third dark wizard and his prominent powers who lived during the fifteenth century."

"Check on page forty-two." The boys looked up to see Hermione hovering over them. "Do you mind if I sit down?"

"Sure," they replied. Harry stood up and pulled back a chair for her. Ron lifted some of the books out of her hands and set them down on the table.

Harry was about to sit back down when he noticed Malfoy. Draco was staring at Hermione over the edge of his paper. He saw Harry looking at him and buried himself again. Harry, believing that he must have imagined the intense look in his eyes, ignored him.

"I needed some books in the restricted section for next week's seventh-year classes," Hermione explained. "There's no need for me to take them out, so I might as well do the work here. Plus, I'm getting tired of being stuck in my rooms every night alone."

"We come and visit you all the time," said Ron indignantly. He had turned to page forty-two and was skimming the paragraphs.

"I know, but it's not the same as living in the dormitories with so many people around all the time. It was nice for a while, but it can get lonely." She had opened up the first book in her pile, Vampires through the Ages. Scanning the Table of Contents, she located what she was looking for and flipped forward a few chapters. A moment later, she slammed the book shut, and stood. "Wrong edition," she explained as she walked back into the stacks.

Harry looked up and out of the corner of his eye he saw Malfoy stand as well. He watched as Malfoy headed in the general direction that Hermione took. Harry was too far away to know if Draco had stopped her or not.

"What's wrong?" Ron had realized that Harry was distracted and swung around to look in the same direction as Harry was looking.

"Malfoy. He just followed Hermione into those stacks." Harry's quill was poised to finish the sentence he had been writing, and he laid it down.

"Do you think we should follow them?" asked Ron, a bit concerned.

Harry bit his lip. "No, let's wait a moment. I could be wrong."

They waited, and several minutes later, Hermione came walking towards them, a little flushed. She avoided both of her friends' eyes as she sat down. They stared at her, waiting for her to say something.

"What did Malfoy want?" inquired Ron.

Hermione looked from one boy to the other. "M. Malfoy? Er, something about this morning's lesson." She colored slightly, and quickly opened the updated edition of her vampire book.

"You didn't have the Slytherins this morning," Ron said pointedly. "You had the Hufflepuffs."

Hermione shot him a dirty look. "How do you know my schedule?"

"I don't," said Ron. "But Ernie MacMillan and I were complaining about you together in Herbology."

"What!?" shrieked Hermione.

"They were discussing how much homework we had, that's all," explained Harry, hoping to avoid an argument between the two of them. Their fights had been kept to a minimum this year, most likely because they weren't together constantly. Harry had found that his own headaches had subsided as a result.

"I don't give any more homework than any of the other teachers," stated Hermione.

"Stop avoiding the question," said Ron. "What did Malfoy want?"

"Nothing," she protested, pretending to be engrossed with what she was reading. But she was blushing furiously.

Ron studied her intently. "The last time you were this embarrassed was fourth year when Krum was always around." Ron was slowly putting two and two together. "Funny, he always haunted the library as well. And, in the end, it was because of you, Professor Granger."

"Stop calling me that," said Hermione. "This has nothing to do with Krum."

Harry was catching on to what Ron was getting at. "Hermione, is Malfoy pursuing you?" He stifled a laugh behind his hand.

"No," she said, her voice clipped. "I have no idea what you are talking about." However, she refused to look up at them.

"He is, isn't he!?" hissed Ron. His reaction was one of anger rather than amusement. "I can't believe it. Who the hell does he think he is? He's called you names since the moment he met you, and now he's brown- nosing because you're a teacher? What the hell is going on?"

"Shhh. Ron, calm down," said Harry. Several students were staring curiously at the three of them. "It's not like he's tried to get her alone or anything. I mean, he hasn't asked you out, right?"

Hermione finally gave up the battle. She flung down the book. "Fine. If you want to know all the sordid details, then yes, he did ask me out." Ron almost exploded right there in the middle of the library, Madame Pince or no Madame Pince. "But, I told him absolutely not, that it would be entirely inappropriate for me as a teacher to date a student of mine, regardless of the circumstances."

"You just told him that now?" Ron persisted.

"No, I told him that three days ago, when he caught me in the hall again." Hermione leaned her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. "I swear, he keeps following me everywhere. It's driving me mad. And, he hasn't said a derogatory comment to me all year. Well, besides that first night." She shook her head in confusion. "But after what happened, he's been a perfect gentleman, and he got the entire Slytherin class to behave for me. I don't get it."

"What happened?" said the boys in unison. Both of them leaned in to hear better.

She blushed again and stuttered, "I. I'd rather not say."

"What happened that first night, Hermione?" insisted Ron. Harry was practically holding him down in his chair.

"He kissed me," she whispered.

"He WHAT?!" bellowed Ron. "You let that filthy piece of scum kiss you!"

Madame Pince rushed over to them. "Professor Granger, what is the problem?" She sounded extremely irritated.

Hermione, quite simply, wanted to die. She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. She was going to murder Ron. And Harry, for that matter, because he was laughing so hard that he couldn't breathe.

With as much dignity as she could muster, she turned to the librarian and apologized. "I'm sorry, Madame Pince. I believe I must be going back to my rooms now." Standing up, she glowered one last time at her two friends before sweeping out of the library with every head turned towards her. Thanks to Ron, everyone was going to know that someone had kissed her. And, it probably wouldn't take the whole school long to figure out who had done it.

Draco hurriedly followed Hermione out of the library, down a few corridors, and up several staircases to her rooms. He knew where they were now. He had figured that out by the first week of the term. He also knew that she changed the password to her apartment every other Tuesday night. This week's password was Hungarian Horntail after the dragon that Potter had gotten past in fourth year, he supposed.

He had drunk enough of the potion for it to last two hours, and he had pocketed enough for later on, when he needed to get back to his dorm after hours. He had figured that it would be best if he could slip in unseen when she came back to her rooms from the library. At this time of night, in this rarely trod corridor, he hadn't even had to be careful of bumping into people. As long as he didn't get too close to her when they walked through the door together, his plan would work fine.

She gave the password and the portrait swung open. Draco crept in behind her, so close that he breathed in the lavender scented soap that she used. Then, he moved to sit down close to the fire and watched her.

She walked into her bedroom, and began fishing for nightclothes, he assumed. She was partially hidden behind the door, and he could only see the array of clothing that she kept throwing onto her neatly made bed. First the robe that she had been wearing. Then a long black skirt, and on top of that a plain white blouse. A lacy white bra fell onto the floor beside the bed along with a pair of black silk stockings.

Draco swallowed and reminded himself why he was there. And, it was not to see Hermione Granger unclothed. When she came back into view, she had on a pair of comfortable pajama bottoms that sat on her hips and a cotton tank top that didn't leave much to his imagination. He saw her shiver slightly and grab the long cotton robe from a hook by the bedroom door. She was muttering something under her breath, but he caught the words "kill" and "Ron".

She scooped up the clothes that she had just discarded and put them away. She shut out the light to her bedroom. She walked through her living room into the small kitchenette, braiding her hair as she went. With her arms up in the air like that, her tank top pulled up even further and Draco was greeted with a display of her waist. He really needed to stop thinking about Granger this way, he realized. Bloody hell, a few months ago he had been calling her mudblood!

He could hear cupboard doors opening and closing, and he saw that she had set out a glass of wine for herself and a few nibbles. She moved gracefully into the living room again, her hips swaying from side to side.

Draco glanced at the clock on the wall. He still had about 20 minutes before the potion wore off. Hermione plopped down on the sofa opposite the fire and grabbed a book atop the table.

It was five minutes before she turned a page. It was another seven before she turned the next one. Hermione Granger was taking much too long to read a silly little novel. "I can't believe Ron did that," he heard her say to herself. "I am so embarrassed. It's not like I asked to be kissed." She groaned in frustration and threw her head back, staring at the ceiling. "Now MacGonagell is going to say something to me, I know it."

She picked up the wine and finished most of it off in one long swallow. Holding up the glass in the light, she seemed to make a decision. She got back up and went into the kitchenette again.

Draco could feel the potion wearing off and so, moving quietly, he sat himself down in the armchair situated directly across from the doorway she was about to come through. Placing an ankle on his opposite knee, he stretched his arms out and waited for her to see him.

Hermione was still thinking about the scene in the library. She could not get her mind off of it, no matter how hard she tried. She thought that a glass of wine might help, but after realizing that only one would not do anything, she headed back to the kitchen to pour a bit more. Not bothering with a light, she simply poured another glass and turned right back around to her living room.

She shrieked, there was simply no other word for it. The wine and the glass went flying up and spilled all over the carpet. She stood stock- still, staring at her uninvited guest.

For Draco Malfoy was sitting in her armchair, right in front of her fire. He had a smirk on his face. For a moment, she couldn't move, and she watched as he lazily pulled his wand out of his pocket. He pointed at the glass shards and said, "Reparo!" The pieces fell back into place as if someone were gluing them together. One more quick spell, and the wine was back in the glass and the glass was in her hand. He flipped his wand carelessly back into his pocket.

She pulled herself together. Rushing towards him, she angrily flung the wine in his face and banged the glass down on the table.

"Damn you, Malfoy!" she screamed. Deprived of her weapon, she hurled herself on top of him, fists flying. His hands came up to fend her off, but he wasn't quick enough. She got one or two good blows in before he found her waist and pulled her down onto his lap. Wrapping his arms around her, he subdued her firmly but gently.

Her breathing was harsh as she scowled at him. Draco let her calm down a bit , and Hermione was well aware of the feeling of his powerful thighs underneath her bottom.

"Are you going to hit me if I let you go?" he asked.

She shook her head wordlessly. He relieved the pressure of his arms, and she scrambled to stand up. Turning away from him, she pulled the robe around her tighter and knotted it in the front.

"How the hell did you get in here, Malfoy?" Her voice was very low. She was simply furious.

He shrugged carelessly. "There are more ways than one to become invisible, Granger."

"Invisible?" Her thoughts rushed back to Harry's invisibility cloak. You couldn't just walk through doors with it. And that meant, "You've been here since I walked in?"

"Calm down, Granger," he retorted. "I didn't see anything. That's not why I'm here."

"You watched me change my clothes?" She held her robes around her more tightly, and a hint of panic rose in her voice. "You heard what I was saying?"

"A bit." He shrugged. "It's not my fault that I'm here. I've asked you out several times, and you keep refusing me. I've been trying to get you alone, so I can speak to you, but there's always people around. I had to take some drastic measures."

"I'll say!" she exclaimed. "How did you become invisible? I mean, you don't have a cloak, do you?"

"Nope. Potion. Been making it since fifth year." He brushed some invisible lint off of his black pants. Once again, he wore no robes, just a white shirt, now stained, and black pants. The look was startling against his pale, pointed face and startling blue eyes.

"I'll take some of that wine, though preferably in a glass," he ordered.

Hermione rolled her eyes to the ceiling and threw up her arms. "Men!" She walked into the kitchen and came out with a towel. "Here, catch," she said. Then she went back and poured two more glasses of wine. She handed Draco his and then took a sip from her own as she sat down once again on the sofa.

"All right," she said,warily, "you have obviously gone to some extreme measures to get me alone. So, what is so important that you need to tell me?" Her wand was in the other room, and she glanced nervously in its direction.

Malfoy noticed and he said, "Go get your wand, if it will make you feel better." He paused and waited for her to get up. "Go ahead, I don't care."

Hermione got up and hurried into her room. A moment later, she returned with her wand clutched in her hand. "Okay, begin."

"I need your help," stated Draco. "And Potter's and Weasley's, too."

Hermione looked at him as if he had gone insane. "Huh?"

"I figured the only way to get them to talk to me was to convince you first. I know how they feel about me. It's the same as I feel about them. But, if I'm going to accomplish anything, I'll need help from all of you."

Hermione sat there, stunned. Her wine was poised half-way to her mouth. Luckily, she hadn't choked on any.

Draco stood and began to pace in front of the fireplace. He caught his breath and then continued, "Do you know what I did this summer?"

She shook her head, wondering why this was important.

He stared blindly into the fire. "I buried my parents. Voldemort sent my father on an attack that he knew would kill him. Then, he killed my mother and ransacked my home. He took family heirlooms and emptied our family vault of galleons." He paused. "And, then, he came after me.

"He chased me through a secret passageway and into the gardens. I was dodging curses and hexes left and right. I was barely managing to be one step ahead of him. I think the only reason I held on for so long was because I was in such good physical condition.

"He had cornered me, and was taunting me about my parents. He started to scream out the killing curse to finish me when a ministry of magic member threw himself in front of me. He saved my life and partially deflected the curse with a shield charm.

"Do you know who it was?" asked Malfoy. Hermione shook her head.

"It was David Flannery, a Hufflepuff who I had screamed mudblood at so many times." He shook his head and bitterness laced his next words. "I couldn't believe it. Voldemort, who my father had always bowed down to, had killed both him and my mother, and a mudblood had saved me!" Hermione flinched at his use of the term mudlbood.

He was silent, completely lost in his own thoughts. Hermione had no idea how to respond. Draco suddenly whirled around.

"I began to realize that I really was completely alone in this world. I would never answer to Voldemort, and Dumbledore would never allow me to join forces against him. I haven't exactly been quiet about my views in supporting the Dark Side. Crabbe and Goyle will follow in their parents' footsteps when they leave Hogwarts. They cannot think for themselves enough to walk away from Voldemort." He sighed.

"But I do have plenty of information which will aid Dumbledore in the Dark Lord's defeat." He rushed to her side and sat down on the sofa next to her. "I know spells that they use, that my father has been training me in since third year. I know hideouts, meeting places, and names of dark wizards who have been placed in the ministry as spies. I know bits and pieces of war tactics that Voldemort will be putting into place. I even know bits and pieces of information about Potter that I am not supposed to know."

"What?" cried Hermione. "What about Harry? Is Voldemort going to try to hurt him again?"

"Hermione, Lord Voldemort is obsessed with killing Potter. He will kill Harry as soon as he can get to him. And, Harry is not going to be very safe once he is out of Hogwarts, even with the Order hovering around him."

Hermione studied his face intently. "You're not lying about all this, are you?" she asked quietly. Draco shook his head. "I'm sorry."

He looked away from her, but she reached for his face and turned it back to her. His expression was one of a lost puppy who didn't have a home. "I'm really sorry, Draco, that you lost your family." She meant it, too. Without thinking about whom it was, she put her arms around him and hugged him.

Draco sat stiffly for a moment, and then, closing his eyes, he relaxed into the embrace. He dropped his head onto her shoulder, and she stroked his hair with her fingers. Her robe had slipped off her shoulder, and she felt tears on her skin.

"Shh, it's going to be okay," she crooned. "We'll figure something out."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and clung to her as if he were afraid to let go. She held him until she felt all of the tension leave his body. She held him until he pulled away from her and gazed into her eyes. She was transfixed, mesmerized by their clear blueness. Her gaze dropped to his lips, and she tacitly asked her question.

Their faces crept closer together until they were a whisper apart, and Hermione closed her eyes as his lips claimed hers. This kiss was nothing like the one they had shared before. Malfoy had kissed her to dominate her, to show her who was in charge, and this kiss was nothing like that. This kiss was warm and gentle. It was sharing and giving. And, it was crumbling her every defense.

His strong, warm hands had found her waist inside her robe, and they pulled her onto his lap. He touched her exposed back, and a shiver ran through her spine. He pulled her closer to him until they were pressing against each other, chest to chest. Their tongues tangled together, tasting each other, teasing each other.

Draco leaned her back against his arm, and her head tilted back slightly. His lips caressed her chin, her throat and her collarbone. She had never felt like this before, boneless and giddy, desperate for the sensation coursing through her body to continue. She looked down at his silky hair, and suddenly it hit her. Draco Malfoy was doing this to her. And she hated herself for liking it.

She stiffened and pushed herself away from him. As if waking from a reverie, Malfoy visibly shook himself and let his arms drop from her body. She struggled to lift herself off his lap. Wrapping her robe tightly around herself, she walked away from him, towards the fire. She closed her eyes, gathering her courage to face him. She heard him shift and knew that he stood up.

She listened to his foot falls as he crossed the room and felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Hermione," he whispered.

She couldn't say anything to him. Her voice wouldn't work.

"Hermione," he repeated. "It's okay."

Hermione refused to look at him. "Please, just go."

"But..." Malfoy was at a loss for words. "I...I.."

She whirled around and stared him straight in the eye. Then, she looked everywhere except at him. "Please, Draco, just leave. We can discuss this tomorrow." He didn't move. "Please." He heard the desperate edge to her voice, despite the fact that she was trying to hide it.

He reached out and grasped her hand in his. His smooth lips glided across the top of her hand. "Thank you. I'll be in touch." In one swift motion, he turned to exit the room.

Before she could stop herself, Hermione blurted out, "It's late. I'll write you a pass to get back to your common room."

Draco slowly turned to face her, his head cocked to one side, a smirk on his face. "Thank you for being so concerned, Professor Granger, but I can handle it myself. I've been getting around just fine for the past two years." He reached into his pants' pocket with his right hand and pulled out a small vial. He shook it slightly, pulled the stopper out and drank it in one swig. The smirk was still on his face as he faded from sight.

Hermione's mouth still hung open as she watched her door open and close. Malfoy had left. She was sure of it. She let out a breath she had not realized that she was holding. Tomorrow was going to be interesting.