Chapter Three

Draco smirked to himself as he walked toward the Heads' common room. Based solely upon Hermione's reactions to him, he knew he was going to win his bet. She was already smitten, he could tell. He murmured the password to their shared quarters in as seductive a voice as he could manage. Then he led her inside and directed her to sit on the couch in front of the fireplace.

"You wait here; I'll get everything ready."

She gave him an odd look but did as he requested. Draco moved over to the tiny kitchenette area of the common room, pulled out his wand, and directed the small wooden table and chairs toward the center of the room. He magicked a tablecloth onto it, followed by a crystal vase with a dozen red roses and two glittering candles. He figured if he pulled out all of the stops, Hermione would be that much more likely to fall in love with him.

He called for a house-elf to bring them dinner, and remembered to be extra polite to the elf once the table was set. Draco particularly enjoyed the look of dumbfounded delight on Hermione's face at his actions. But the sight of her smile did something strange to his insides. A warm, bubbly feeling was spreading through his chest, and he was torn between enjoying it and hating it. He shook his head to clear away the errant thoughts.

"Dinner's served, Hermione," he said softly.

She stood up and walked toward him. Draco watched her swaying hips with wide eyes. Sweet Salazar, had Hermione Granger always been this sexy? He was beginning to wonder if he'd been wrong about her for all these years. When she was standing beside him, he cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly and helped her into her chair.

Hermione smiled widely at him, and his heart did a strange ga-thump. He gulped and sat down opposite her.

"So, we never finished that conversation in Potions earlier," Hermione murmured.

"You're right," Draco replied just as softly.

"If I recall correctly," she said while taking a bite of the baked chicken, "I had just asked you why you suddenly seem to agree with everyone else about my supposed intelligence."

He nodded. "Yeah. Well, I suppose now is as good a time as any to start telling you the truth, yeah?"

Hermione lightly licked her lips. "If you're sincere about dating me, then yes. Honesty would be good."

Draco chuckled softly. "I've always known you were the smartest witch in our class. I just didn't want to admit it before." Even as he uttered the words, he realized they weren't as made up as he'd intended. Did he truly believe she was his equal?

"So why start admitting it now?" Hermione asked.

He took his time buttering his roll. "The war was hard on everyone. And I guess I realized at the end of it all that life is short . . . too short. It took me a while to work up the courage, but I'm finally ready to fight for what I want."

Hermione stared at him. "And what is it that you want?"

Draco met her gaze. He took a deep breath and said, "You."

The rest of the meal went by swimmingly. Draco was pleasantly surprised to find that he had more in common with Hermione than he'd thought. That even included contempt for her friends' frequent stupidity, although her feelings about the subject were a lot less vehement than his own. Still, he found himself enjoying their time together, and didn't want it to end when they had finished eating. As a house-elf cleared away the remnants of their dinner, Draco cleared his throat somewhat uncomfortably.

"So, do you want to do something else?"

Hermione eyed him warily. "Like what?"

He was suddenly at a loss. What did one do after dinner like this? He knew what Blaise would probably do, but Draco was certain that Hermione would murder him if he suggested it. Besides, he actually found he respected her enough to not go down that path. He cleared his throat again.

"Well, what would you like to do?" There. That was a pretty safe question.

Hermione shrugged. "I dunno. I was just going to read for a bit."

He nodded. "What book are you reading right now?"

"It's a Muggle book. You probably wouldn't like it."

"Try me."

"If you insist," she said, raising an eyebrow. "It's called The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood."

Draco frowned. "That sounds familiar."

Hermione shook her head. "Can't be. It was written by a Muggle, and it's fiction. You won't have heard of it before."

Still, Draco was certain he had heard the name somewhere. "Well, can we read it together?"

"I only have one copy," she said awkwardly.

It was Draco's turn to shrug. "That doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you."

She swallowed hard. "Okay."

Draco walked over to the sofa and sat down with his back up against the arm while Hermione got her book. He motioned for her to join him when she returned, and she hesitantly sat down between his legs and leaned back against his chest. He smirked to himself as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She tensed up at his touch.

A sudden inexplicable craving snuck up on Draco, and he bent his head to press a soft kiss to her neck. Hermione shivered and unconsciously tilted her head to the side. A triumphant feeling erupted in Draco's chest. He slipped his hand into her wild curls and turned her head towards him to give himself access to her lips. She let out a soft mewling sound that seemed to reverberate in his blood, and he deepened the kiss hungrily.

Hermione shifted so that she was facing him, and her book fell to the floor with a loud clunk. Draco smirked against her lips and wrapped his arms around her waist once more to hold her closer. Great Merlin, but he'd been missing out on something phenomenal all this time that he had spent tormenting Hermione. Kissing her was like drinking Felix Felicis, he thought. He'd never felt so light and free before.

And as that thought registered in his lust-addled brain, he abruptly pushed Hermione away from him. "I—er—I just realized that I have an essay to write," he stuttered out.

Hermione stared at him without speaking.

"I'll see you in the morning, then." He took off up the stairs to his bedroom without another word.

When he was safely behind his closed and locked door, he began pacing back and forth at the foot of his bed. What the hell had just happened? He was supposed to be making her fall in love with him, not falling himself. He raked his hands through his hair in agitation, still feeling the lingering effects of his recent snogging session. Draco stomped to his en-suite bathroom, tearing his clothes off as he went. He blasted the shower as cold as it would go and proceeded to spend the next forty-five minutes trying to calm himself down.

Draco eventually managed to clear his head, but he was emotionally spent. He dried off and stumbled to bed, then collapsed on top of his covers completely nude. As he drifted off to sleep, he realized that he'd gotten himself into a situation he had no control over; it was going to turn his life upside down.