A/N: Once again, I deeply appreciate your attention and appreciation for this story! I joked on Twitter (config_space) that it's only taken me 13 chapters to realize I'm writing a slow burn, but here we are. Thanks and enjoy!
Draco noted the fiery gleam in Granger's eyes as they settled tiredly upon the love seats across from each other in their common room. Irked though she may be, this might be the most lively he'd seen his fellow Head Girl since before the war, and certainly since they'd come back for 8th year.
It's a good look for her, he mused idly as he allowed some of the tension from the night to finally begin to bleed from his limbs, Even if some of it is directed at me.
There were worse things in the world than to have Hermione Granger staring at him with such amorphous heat in her gaze, especially considering she'd saved his arse yet again. It was becoming ridiculous—damsel indeed. If he'd believed at all in life debts (which he didn't), he'd owe the witch sitting across from him a few lifetimes' worth at this rate. Consequently, he'd take whatever ire she had for him as long as she was giving him the time of day. Indeed, this was certainly the most invigorated he'd felt in quite some time.
He removed his skull cap and dropped it next to him, carding his fingers through his disheveled hair. He leaned into the cushion behind him with a sigh that contained relief, weariness, foreboding, and so much more. There were things he'd seen in the minds of Victor Caswell and Clarence Burke that he had yet to tell Granger about. And he did plan to tell her—tomorrow morning. There were plenty of things he was pushing off until later, for example the emotions that came with having been nearly ambushed again. For tonight, he wanted to revel in her company and keep her all to himself in the cozy confines of their common room without interruption.
The flickering fire from the nearby hearth accentuated the soft curves of Granger's face and plaited hair while casting warm highlights across her golden skin. She was a lioness incarnate, and he was the hapless fool who'd realized he was naught but a moth drawn to her flame. What's more, he was glad for it. Tonight she'd definitively shown him not just that she could hold her own with him, but that she was better than him in some of the ways that mattered to him.
The realization had stung for about half an hour, but Draco was nothing if not pragmatic. Pride was malleable, after all—he could reframe this to find something he could work with, could anneal this realization with the attraction he'd already begrudgingly begun to admit he felt for her—at least to himself. Indeed, it spoke volumes about how much his regard for her had progressed in the past few weeks that he could honestly say he didn't mind Granger's display of dominance tonight. In fact, he found her all the more attractive for it.
The animated witch sitting across from him was the antithesis of the shell of a girl he'd spied in Diagon Alley months ago, and leagues away from the tremulous girl who'd surprised him in this common room only a few weeks ago. The change in her was stark, and it was why he couldn't give two shits about the blows to his ego she'd dealt him tonight—it was worth it if it meant seeing her like this, closer to the witch he knew she was at heart. Better that she be the one to point out his weaknesses than one of the Slytherin arseholes who'd been poised to end him tonight.
Filing those thoughts away for now, he centered his gaze on hers and cocked an eyebrow.
"So where shall we begin, Granger? Should we start with your uncanny habit of rescuing me? Or would you rather lead with the magical map you conveniently pulled out of your arse this evening?"
Attention snagged, her gaze rose to meet his. She looked unimpressed and responded crisply, "I'd much rather start with how you became an informant for the Ministry, Malfoy. From there I'd be happy to move on to where you ran off to today."
Draco smirked despite himself, "Why, did you miss me?"
She rolled her eyes, "About as much as a plimpy misses having its legs tied."
His smirk softened into a grin. Deciding to forego any further antagonization in favor of humoring her, his expression smoothed, "It goes without saying, but anything I tell you stays in this room, Granger."
She considered him for a moment before conceding, "Fine, within reason."
He figured that was the best he would get from her presently. Auror Prather might not appreciate it, but like it or not she was part of the investigation now. She'd ensured as much tonight with her actions, and Draco could only feel grateful for her help, unexpected as it had been.
"I've been spying on the Sons of Salazar since my release from Ministry custody last month. And no, Granger—before you ask, I wasn't coerced. In fact, I volunteered to do it," he drawled.
She looked momentarily taken aback, "Why would you do that?"
He shrugged, "Revenge. Vindication. Justice. Closure. Take your pick—they're all contributing factors."
She processed his words in silence, and he wondered which part of his admission had given her pause. For so long he'd viewed her as a one-dimensional intruder in his world, as the deserving target of his xenophobic cruelty. It had taken a war and an ambush to make him see that she was so much more than he'd given her credit for. Could she be having a similar realization about him? Would she ever be able to see him as more than the flat caricature of a bigoted wizard he'd cultivated for most if not all of his life? Now that he could acknowledge the depth in her, he wanted her to do the same for him, wanted it in a way he desired few things.
Finally she asked, "So what has your spying entailed, then?"
"Mostly I've been doing reconnaissance around the castle grounds at night, although a few other... opportunities have also come up. It's not like there aren't already Aurors working on this case after all, but apparently it's quite useful to have a student at your disposal when part of your investigation centers around a school," he answered dryly.
Her head tilted slightly, "Is that what you were off doing today?"
He nodded, "I was preparing for tonight, among other things, but yes. When you saw me fly off, I was heading to the Forbidden Forest to surveil a Sons of Salazar initiation ritual."
No need to tell her that part of his absence today was due to a separate request Auror Prather had asked of him—one that involved breaking into a property that had been keyed to his father's blood, and which had now been co-opted as a safe house for the secret society. At least he'd had backup for that one. Then again, she'd been his backup tonight, he just hadn't known it.
"So, that group of Slytherins I tracked on the map returning via the waterway—that's who you were watching in the forest?"
He nodded, "I was collecting evidence of their participation in illicit activities tonight. Still can't believe you saw them too, by the way. If they weren't screwed before, they're definitely fucked now with your added testimony."
She rolled her eyes, "Of course I saw them, Malfoy. I spent the better part of the night scouring the Marauder's map for any sign of you—a group of 12 Slytherins sneaking around after curfew sticks out like a sore thumb."
He zeroed in on the opening she'd provided, intent on finally getting some answers to some of his own questions.
"Just the subject I wanted to switch to, Granger. I've answered all your questions thus far. It's only fair you return the favor. What did you call it—the Marauder's map? What is it? Why is it in your possession? How does it work?"
Her response was cagey, "It's... well, it's a map of the school grounds that was created by a group of Hogwarts students a few decades ago. It shows the location of all castle inhabitants in real time. Harry gave it to me last month, and I don't think he'd appreciate me telling you how it works."
He chuckled dryly, "Granger, I just revealed classified Ministry information to you and you're worried about what Potter thinks about this? He's kept you just as much in the dark about this investigation as everyone else has."
She stopped short, "He–Harry knew about all of this?"
Draco inclined his head, "He's known since the beginning. Yet who's the one giving you answers tonight? Oh right, that's me."
He wasn't sure how exactly he could tell—perhaps a shift in her eyes—but he saw the exact moment some of the ire in her gaze was redirected towards Potter, and oh how it caused a flutter of pleasure to dance across his stomach until it settled as satisfaction a little lower in his body.
"That overprotective dolt is going to get an earful from me," she muttered, and he wondered if she was incensed enough to send the Boy Who Lived a Howler. Draco was sure he'd never experienced this level of schadenfreude before, and could only watch on in glee. Still, he could see where Potter was coming from.
"He probably didn't want you to worry, Granger. My guess is he wanted you to focus on your recovery and stay out of trouble," Draco said gruffly. He couldn't believe he was in any way defending Saint Potter, but this would be a perfect segue into his second pressing question of the night—he'd circle back to the map later.
"The irony of course, is that of the two of us you're the one who seems to be far more capable of taking care of herself," Draco continued in a tone that was equal parts self-deprecating and wry.
Her gaze shot towards him.
He added, "Then again, the world would mind it a lot less if I were collateral damage than if the same fate were to befall you."
Here she cut him off, "You know that's not true."
He shrugged, "It is, and I deserve it. I can admit that much at least. The real question though, is why you care so much about what happens to me."
"I told you before, it's what any self-respecting person would do—help someone in need."
He shook his head, "No Granger, I don't think that's it. There are plenty of self-respecting people out there who wouldn't repeatedly put themselves in harm's way just to help me. So I'll ask it more plainly, witch. Why is it that every time my life seems to be perilously close to going to shite lately, you happen to be the one who puts things to rights?"
It was fascinating to watch the emotions play across her face as she struggled to find the best way to respond to the implication in his words.
"I–I've asked myself the same question often enough, Malfoy," she finally muttered, a crease of confusion forming on her brow while a maelstrom raged behind her umber gaze, "I still don't have a clear answer."
Unwilling to let the question drop, he leaned forward and prodded, "Then give me the unclear version of it."
She huffed but seemed to consider his question for a few moments.
"You're a puzzle I can't help but be drawn to, I suppose," she said pensively, "Only... the pieces have been rearranged—they seem to fit together differently now, and the picture of you that's emerged from them... it shouldn't be destroyed before it has a chance to form. You're still a prat, but you're not the cruel wizard I once knew you as."
There was an unfamiliar feeling welling up his gullet, tightening in his throat, tingling at the edge of his fingers. Was this hope? He didn't want to believe it.
"You don't hate me anymore?" he asked cautiously.
"I hated you once upon a time, Malfoy—for good reason. But no, I certainly don't now. I daresay I've grown marginally fond of you."
"Only marginally?" he drawled with a hint of mirth sparkling in his eyes, "I don't know, Granger. Considering how many times you've swooped in to save the day, I have to wonder if your sentiments towards me don't extend towards something a little stronger than that."
A light blush spread across her cheeks at his suggestion, a response that only further intrigued him.
"That couldn't be further from the truth," she gritted out stubbornly, a subtle line of tension suffusing her shoulders and creasing her brow. Her change in body language spoke volumes.
Fuck it, he decided, I came into this year expecting rejection so I might as well start courting it.
"No? A pity, because my sentiments towards you extend far beyond marginal fondness," he said with an air of insouciance.
"What are you on about?" she asked suspiciously.
He decided to just get it over with, "I like you, Granger."
Her eyes narrowed, "If this is part of some protracted prank, I want no part in it, Malfoy."
"No pranks," he murmured while seeking out her gaze, "Only truth. I can't help but feel drawn to you, witch."
As if trying to rationalize the pull he felt, she said, "You're just drawn to what I represent in your life because of the second chances I've given you."
He shook his head, "If that were the case, I wouldn't have spent this entire conversation distracted by the way the firelight adds the most delicious highlights to your visage, nor would I have spent the past few weeks hunting down the idiots who still don't think you deserve a place in this castle."
Granger seemed stunned by his admission and her blush deepened, so he decided to continue digging himself deeper.
"And I'm enough of a selfish bastard to ask that you consider why my life matters so much to you when it matters so little to the rest of wizarding society—because I would take whatever affection, friendship or camaraderie you're comfortable with giving me and would reciprocate in kind. If you let me."
She seemed to be at a loss for words, a million thoughts flitting behind her astonished eyes.
At length she asked in an unsteady voice, "What exactly do you want from me, Malfoy?"
He couldn't help the undercurrent of intensity in his voice when he responded, "Everything you're willing to give."
"And if I wanted to give you nothing?"
Her piercing gaze seemed luminous in the flickering light.
Draco swallowed thickly, "Then I would accept that too—but at least I'd know."
Sensing that she'd as much as given him her answer, he'd been been prepared to move on to another topic of conversation, the sting of rejection beginning to set in, but she spoke before he could articulate his next thoughts.
Clearing her throat, she met his gaze with uncertainty and another emotion he didn't recognize in her eyes, "I—you have to understand how difficult this is for me. At any second I keep expecting you to pull the rug out from under me, to tell me that this is one huge joke at my expense."
He felt a well of self-recrimination rise within him and responded quickly, "You have every reason to think that, but Hermione I swear that I'll never do that to you. Even if you spend the rest of your life telling me to skive off—gods witch, after everything that's happened, after everything you've done for me, how could I ever want to hurt you again?"
She studied his face intently for a few moments, before shaking her head and responding softly, "Merlin help me, but I believe you."
It felt as if things were moving too quickly for Draco to keep up with, so he shut off the part of his mind that kept questioning whether any of this was even real.
"So where does that leave us?" he asked quietly, feeling as if he was suspended above a cliff, left wondering if he would plummet or fly when he launched off its edge.
An odd spark had lit in her eyes, and after a few moments of indecision she seemed to have made up her mind about something.
"The truth is," she said slowly, "I'm intrigued by you too, Draco. Enough to know that I want to explore whatever this is between us, to see what it blossoms into."
Draco felt a frisson of surprise, excitement and desire shoot through him at her admission, and he grinned wolfishly, "So you admit there could be something more between us?"
She cocked her head to the side slightly, "You're incorrigible, you know that?"
This did nothing to wipe the grin from his face, "I'm just saying, love. The offer is always open if you decide you want to explore something more with me."
He felt overtaken by giddiness at the revelation that she could be attracted to him in some way. He'd expected her to brush him off with laughter, sarcasm or disgust—an outright rejection of some sort—which was why her next words left him gobsmacked.
"Let's put that to the test then, shall we?" she asked shakily while twisting her hands in her lap, clearly more nervous than she wanted to let on.
He faltered for a second but quickly regained his stride in their conversation, "Oh? How so?"
She hesitated, her own bravado seeming to falter in the face of whatever it was she was preparing to tell him. Her next words were spoken haltingly.
"The most intimate memory I have of you in this room is a negative one, from the night you... from the night you kidnapped me. It sounds ludicrous, but... I'd like to replace that memory with a better one. I—well, I want you to kiss me."
Barely daring to believe this was truly happening, and acting before his mind could catch up with him to tell him it was a terrible idea, Draco wordlessly rose to his feet and crossed the short distance between them. It stung to be reminded of what he'd done to her in this very common room, but he felt elated by her request all the same. He lowered himself to his knees before her, and their gazes connected, kindred embers smoldering in both of their expressions. He felt momentarily swept away by the heat roaring through his body in successive waves.
"I'd create so many good memories with you if you'd let me," he murmured, entranced.
Tentatively, he reached out with one hand to cup her cheek while he used the other to sweep away a few errant strands of curly hair that had escaped from her braid during the excitement of the night. Touching her felt like a revelation—she was myth made mortal in his hands, the unattainable placed within reach. As he brought his face closer to hers, he caressed her cheek with the pad of one thumb while he traced the shell of her ear with the other, giving her the choice to close the distance between them or pull away.
To his relief, she snaked her arms lightly around his neck and pulled him nearer, angling her legs to the side so they could come closer still. With fingers tangled in his hair, her eyes slid slowly shut, and in the next instant she closed the distance between them completely with the softest touch of her lips against his.
This close, she smelled like heaven and tasted like a morsel of once forbidden fruit. All rational thought fled him in that moment. There was only room in his awareness for the tactile feel of her, the taste and smell of her, the adrenaline-fueled intoxicating whorl of finally touching her, kissing her. Their lips separated but neither moved more than a few millimeters away from the other.
Draco's left hand slid down to caress her neck, and in the next instant he'd gently pressed his lips against hers again, this time more insistently. Her hands flexed against the nape of his neck at the renewed contact, but she didn't push him away—no, she pulled him closer to deepen the kiss.
Why did I ever deny myself this? he wondered during a brief moment of lucidity, drunk on the taste of her and the thrill of the moment.
Curious to know how far she'd let him go, his tongue darted out to briefly lick along the seam of her mouth. He was pleased when her lips parted the second time he did it, and after a few seconds their kiss deepened further. Of course, he was less than pleased when she unthreaded her hands from his hair a minute later and used them to push on his shoulders to break their contact altogether.
"Th–that's... quite enough," she said breathlessly, breathing deeply as if trying to regain her bearings.
Invigorated by the kiss they'd shared, he let a mischievous smirk grow on his face, "Flustered you, have I?"
She rolled her eyes, but still blushed when she responded, "Don't act like I haven't done the same to you."
Draco shrugged and leaned further back while remaining crouched in front of her, "I'm not the one in denial about it."
He loved observing the aftermath of their contact play across her face. From her slightly swollen lips to her glistening eyes and quickened breaths, Draco loved seeing the effect he had on her, loved knowing he was capable of making someone like her come alive with the same fire he now felt.
"By the way, you're not allowed to regret this later. If you wake up tomorrow thinking it was a mistake, well, it wasn't," he said firmly.
"Getting a little ahead of yourself there, aren't you Malfoy? I can decide what to feel for myself, thank you very much."
"I know you, witch—that mind of yours never stops. You'll contort yourself into knots over how terrible of an idea it is to involve yourself with me in any way if I don't preempt you by reminding you that if nothing else, you explored a new way to overcome your trauma tonight. Whatever happens, don't lose sight of that."
She tilted her head to the side slightly and regarded him with bright eyes, "I like you most like this, I think. When I can clearly see the Slytherin opportunist in you working in tandem with your budding altruism to get what you want. It's fascinating to behold."
Thrilled by her words, the corners of his mouth tilted up with the hint of a sly smile, "So you like me, do you?"
Her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip, and Draco found himself distracted by the nervous movement. He knew the velvet feel of those lips now, and he so looked forward to tasting them again—a privilege he would have thought out of reach mere hours earlier.
"It's under consideration," she said while clearly trying to suppress a small smile.
On impulse he reached for her once more, cupping her chin and running his thumb along her bottom lip. He leaned in to press their lips together lightly for another kiss before leaning back a few centimeters. She looked surprised, but not displeased. He filed this observation away with the rest of what he'd learned tonight about her reactions to him.
"Glad to hear it," he said simply before backing off completely and rising to his feet to tower above her. He couldn't help the spike of arousal that hit him upon seeing the hooded look in her eyes as she stared up at him, and with a hint of panic he realized he didn't have much time before the proof of his arousal would become plainly obvious.
She seemed to shake herself out of her daze, "Unexpected tangents aside, we still have quite a bit to discuss, Draco."
It pleased him to hear her call him by his first name. However, her words were a sobering reminder that there was indeed still more work to be done before his role as a Ministry informant was complete, and before he could focus his full attention on equally important things like cultivating whatever was forming between himself and the inimitable witch sitting across from him.
"Look, there are... too many things I still need to tell you in regards to what happened tonight, and about this investigation, but it's half past two in the morning and I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted."
As if on cue, Hermione yawned at the reminder and stretched her arms out in front of her, trailing off with a sigh.
He continued, "Can the rest of this conversation wait until tomorrow morning before our meeting with McGonagall?"
She nodded and yawned again, "Sure, I'm quite knackered myself now that you mention it."
She heaved herself up from the love seat and stretched her hands upward, wincing slightly as she relieved the stiffness in her joints from the trials of the day.
Draco frowned slightly in concern at the reminder that she herself was still recovering from the aftermath of the Sons of Salazar, and felt a familiar swell of admiration for her in that moment. He now found himself deeply admiring the Gryffindor qualities in her that he'd denigrated for so many years. He also realized that in this case she might easily push herself past the point of potential harm if it meant helping such a worthy cause. Although she'd made huge strides in her recovery in the past few weeks, he decided he'd keep a closer on eye on her. He wanted to help look out for her wellbeing in any way he could, especially now that she was going to be involved in the investigation.
As she turned and took a few steps away from the sitting area, Draco called out, "Hermione."
She turned to face him and his lips rose in a guileless smile.
"Thank you. For everything."
She returned his smile in kind and nodded, "Of course. Good night, Draco."
"Sweet dreams, witch," he murmured huskily, thinking of the dreams he'd most likely be having of her tonight.
He wasn't expecting the deep blush that spread across her face and down her neck in response to his words. It took him a few moments to understand just what could have caused such an embarrassed reaction from her, and his smile transformed into a wicked smirk.
Before he could comment on it, she'd darted across the room and without meeting his eyes muttered, "Yes well, erm, same to you."
"Had any naughty dreams lately, love?" he teased playfully, but she only slammed her bedroom door shut behind her in response.
He chuckled lowly, glad she'd disappeared into her room before the proof of his growing arousal became obvious. He certainly knew who—and what—he'd be dreaming about tonight. Of course, it wouldn't be the first time this year he'd fantasized about the intriguing witch he could now admit had captured what little of his frozen heart remained intact.
I hope you dream of me too, Hermione.