Malfoy's robes had provided an excellent cover of her white dress. Hermione managed to manoeuver her way to the Gryffindor common room with ease –past various students in casual wear (for it was Saturday), and teachers taking it easy. When she made it past the portrait she breathed a sigh of relief. When she finally made it to her bedroom –a very generous two-bed space arranged by Professor McGonagall seeing as she and Ginny were among two of the oldest witches here –she smiled when she realized that an awful run-in with her redheaded roommate had been averted. Granted, a conversation filled with latent accusation was unavoidable seeing as she hadn't gone back to their room at all last night, but at least she was free for now. She could undress in peace. She could slip on a shirt and a pair of denims and hide out in the library for the rest of the afternoon. Maybe she could even come back when she was sure Ginny was asleep and-

"Well, look who's back."

Hermione cringed and paused her movements. Her wand was in her hand to slide the zipper down on her dress, but now she couldn't move. She didn't have to look at Ginny to know that she was smiling. When she actually did face her the woman was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. The brunette let her arms fall to her side and she awkwardly rolled her wand between her hands.

"Hi Ginny,"

"Oh, don't you 'hi' me!" Ginny said excitedly as she ushered herself further into the bedroom, making sure to cast a Silencing and Locking Charm on the door once she'd shut it. "You disappeared from the ball last night."

Hermione sighed. "Yes, I did, but-"

"And you left with that guy who asked you to dance."

Hermione began to wring her hands together. "Yes, he was with me, but we-"

"And you were gone all night." Ginny smiled maliciously. "Spill every detail."

"Oh, no," Hermione began shaking her head. "I couldn't possibly-"

"Don't you dare! You, Miss Granger, have slept with only two other people in your life. You thought I was too young to know any details about you and Viktor, and I damn sure didn't want to hear anything about what you did with my brother. Every. Detail. Right now."

Hermione couldn't help her laugh. She rolled her eyes soon after and sat on the edge of her bed, urging the witch to sit across from her since she knew this topic wouldn't be dropped.

"Well?"

"Gin," Hermione said shyly as she rubbed her arm. "You know me. For me to give exact details is…"

"Hermione, my boyfriend is miles away from me." Ginny told her as her eyes danced with delight. "At this rate even the vaguest of descriptions will satisfy me."

Hermione laughed again. "I thought you wanted every detail."

Ginny shrugged girlishly. "I was being greedy. So, your night?"

"My night…" She took a deep breath and relished the memories. "It was amazing, Ginny. He was sweet and gentle and…took his time. When it was over we just went to the Room of Requirement, laid down and did nothing but enjoy the quiet until we fell asleep. And when I say enjoy the quiet, I really mean that we did. Or at least I did." She added with a soft chuckle. "It just felt good to be there. With him…"

"Room of Requirement?" Ginny asked with a tilted head. "Did you take him there?"

"Yes and no. We kind of just took each other."

"He's redoing his Year then." She observed. "There aren't very many students who know about that room, and those who do all went to school with us." Her eyes lit up then as recognition kicked in. "Well, that just limits the choices for me to guess who the lucky guy was!"

Hermione felt her chest sink. "Gin, I don't even know who he was." She said with a guilty conscience. "We had our masks on the whole time."

"Hm…that certainly adds a bit of mystery to your already mysterious night and all, but doesn't that bother you? You seem like you had a really good time –outside of the sex, I mean."

"I, well, I suppose I did."

"Don't you want to know who he is then?" Ginny questioned. "For all we know this could be the boyfriend you've been looking for."

"Ginny," Hermione groaned. "I already told you that I wasn't looking for a boyfriend."

"Shagging buddy?"

"Not that either! Can we just settle on the fact that I had a wonderful night with someone and let it go? It's…" The brunette surprisingly began to feel sad as her voice trailed away. "It's never going to happen again anyway."

Ginny frowned. "If you say so. But," she said as she got up and fingered the set of robes Hermione had set down on her bed. "If I were you, I'd keep my eyes out for a bloke missing a set of robes."

His room felt like a prison.

He'd been given one all to himself; and while he knew that students redoing their Years were sectioned off together, there were other adult Slytherins here too, but he was kept away from them.

At least unlike other prisons Draco could leave this one.

It was roughly two in the morning and he couldn't sleep. It was partly due to restlessness, partly due to the flashbacks of a certain witch that sent his arousal through the roof. And to think, it was just twenty-four hours ago when his depressing life had been given a new light. A light, he feared, that would disappear and leave him in the dark again.

With a sigh, Draco got out of bed. He reached for robes that he didn't have and instead slipped a sweater over his head. There was no one in the common room, thank Merlin, so he was able to make an exit without attracting whispers or scathing glares. His walk to the library was a slow, casual one. Patrol on a Saturday night was always a half-arsed job by prefects and teachers alike even though the most sneaking around happened over the weekend. Not that he was worried. He was left alone all the time anyway –not to mention adult students tended to have less restrictions.

Draco traversed the halls until his feet had taken him to the library. Although he had already been a reader in his spare time, the past few years had turned him into an avid one. His love of libraries had flourished because it was one of the few places that was intentionally quiet. People whispered because they had to, not because they were talking about you. Of course odds were that he was still getting talked about, but it gave him a bit of comfort at thinking that that might not be the case.

Once inside he bypassed tables and shelves until he made it to the restricted section. He had to admit that with all the stigma associated with him he probably shouldn't be here, but students needed permission to be in there and that limited how many he could run into.

It made him feel at ease and he calmly went in search of something to distract him from his thoughts.

Hermione simply had to escape her room.

Ginny was a regular night owl, and no matter how much she tried to tune out the redhead's grumblings, she could still hear her. Under her breath she was going through a list of students redoing their Years and trying to figure out who among them could afford a set of Roman Olivier robes –the designer name she had read on the tag living in the robes' collar.

Hermione didn't like to judge anyone's character, but she would bet her signed first edition Hogwarts, A History that only Malfoy could afford such fancy robes. She wondered when Ginny would come to that conclusion. If she came to that conclusion at all. Knowing her, the woman would skip over his name entirely –sure that it was a complete impossibility and out of an act of a pure dismissal of him

Eventually her friend did fall asleep, and although her musings and suspicions had died down, Hermione still couldn't stand to lay where she was. With a huff and grabbing those very robes that were the subject of Ginny's train of thought, she walked along the cool Hogwarts corridors at the obscene hour of two-thirty a.m. to the library. Of course she could have always read in the common room, but there was always one lingering student who was just as restless as she. No one would be in the library now, and she could take solace in the fact that she'd be there alone.

Once past the large doors she smiled at her haven. In all her years there she'd already gone through most of the books in the public access section of the library. Her adult mind craved something a bit more in-depth, challenging, and secluded. With those characteristics in mind she headed straight to the restricted section with the hopes of getting her hands on something rare –maybe on an age-old theory that could still have some applications to today if it was looked at from a different perspective.

Hermione was delighted with the possibilities and went in search of her time killer when she paused at hearing a noise.

It was faint, but having had her nose stuck in some book or another for years she knew what the turning of a page sounded like. Who else aside from her would seek refuge in a library at this time of night? Her question was answered when she found the source of the noise and she almost swore aloud.

Can my luck be honestly that bad?

But was it "bad" luck? Although she had tried to suppress the feeling throughout the rest of the afternoon and while attempting to sleep, she found herself missing –and quite possibly craving –Malfoy's attention. Not the raunchy side to it either, because before either one of them had succumbed to feral passions they had talked. It had been that and the innocent intimacies that had attracted her to him in the first place. The sex had simply been a delicious cherry on top.

Before the mask came off.

She wondered now if it was possible to start off a new encounter without anonymity standing between them.

"Couldn't sleep?" Draco asked as he looked up from his book. He had known the moment someone had come into the restricted section because he was eerily aware of his surroundings. A handy side-effect of being in a war. He hadn't known it was her, though, and now he found it harder than ever to keep his concentration straight.

Hermione cleared her throat once, clearly surprised that he had noticed her. "No."

Draco nodded. "And here I was thinking I'd be the only one here."

"I can go. Actually I probably should go. It's late and-"

"You can stay." He interrupted her ramble. "You didn't walk all this way here for nothing so...grab a book. If you want."

Yes, that had been her intention. To grab a book and drown herself in centuries old words, but seeing Malfoy here had completely thrown her off. Now she found herself scrutinizing him. His slumped shoulders. His tired eyes. The firm way he held his lips. The rigidity of his posture. This was not the same jovial man she had the joy of spending her night with. This one looked broken. In fact, he almost resembled how he had looked during those spare moments she'd see him during sixth year.

Sixth year.

An awful time and it made Hermione shiver just thinking about it. Draco frowned when he saw her do it. With a deep sigh he closed his opened book and stood.

"I'll go. You stay."

Hermione blinked in confusion. "What? Why?"

"My being here bothers you."

"No," she shook her head. "No, it-"

"Yes, it does." Draco said firmly. He sighed as he stepped out from in front of his chair and pushed it in. "I could recognize that look of unease in my sleep, Granger. It's fine."

It was Hermione's turn to frown as she saw the sorrowful disposition that overcame him so quickly. Her conscience began to gnaw at her and she knew she couldn't let him walk off like that. So she sighed and called him back.

"Malfoy, wait." She said with as little pity as she could muster. "Stay, please. I'll go find a book and come back. Okay?"

Draco stared at her with a cautious expression. "You don't have to do this for my benefit."

"I'm not."

I am.

"But you were right; I didn't come here for nothing. Besides, you were here first and my being here shouldn't run you out."

Draco was struck speechless. Her being here shouldn't run him out? He couldn't believe it. This was the first time in three years anyone had ever been conscientious of his feelings. There was no way he could leave now and let her generosity give way to the wind. So, still in awe, he sat down and watched her smile as she left him to go track down something to read. He reopened his book, but he didn't go back to reading it. He had to see it for himself. Was she really coming back?

Seconds ticked by. Then minutes. It was bordering on seven and Draco just knew that he had been abandoned. He sighed, ready to get up and head back to Slytherin when he heard footsteps.

"Sometimes too many options is a bad thing." Hermione chuckled as she got to the table and sat down. Draco couldn't hide his amusement when realized that she had not one, not two, but three books in front of her.

"You're not planning on tackling all of those tonight, are you?" Draco asked. "It is almost three in the morning."

Hermione laughed. "No, I just couldn't decide between them. Bookworm habits are a bit hard to break."

"And very easy to pick up." He remarked, raising his book as he spoke.

"I suppose it is. Here's to reading then."

Draco watched her as she eagerly began to digest one of the books she had set down. The library was silent with the exception of her turning pages, but his concentration had fled. He simply sat there, his own book open, as he picked the brunette apart.

Granger.

This witch who he'd seen in this position countless times, but now he appreciated it. The way her eyes narrowed. The way she nibbled –no, chewed on her bottom lip. The way her head titled to the side. The way she brushed back strands of her hair away from her face. The way her eyes widened and mouth hung slightly open at times.

Draco was capable of holding back his emotions well, but at this moment he had to give in. He laughed. He laughed louder than he could ever remember doing and the sound ricocheted off bookshelves. Hermione looked at him, clearly surprised by his outburst.

"What exactly are you reading that's so funny?" Hermione asked. Draco's smile was wide and his shoulders shook to a low calm.

"Honestly? You,"

"Me?"

"Yes," Draco nodded. "You have…interesting expressions and mannerisms when you read."

"Oh," Hermione replied, trying her hardest not to blush. She had turned red enough for him already in the last twenty-four hours. "I didn't realize I was so expressive."

"Yes, you can be…" A vision of her beneath him, the look on her face as he purred seductive words into her ear, the verbal and physical sentiments she gave him in return.

Draco cleared his throat. "…quite expressive."

Draco Malfoy blushing. Hermione thought. Well, that's something you don't see every day.

"Well," Hermione began. "You have to admit that it's a bit hard to stifle yourself when you're enjoying something."

Draco nearly knocked his book to the floor. Instead he stared at Hermione who seemed to have realized what her words had insinuated. Her cheeks were pink, but he wanted them red. He licked his lips once and said with confidence, "You should never refrain yourself from pleasure."

Unlike her companion, Hermione's book slipped from her fingers.

It was official.

She looked wonderful bathed in red.

"Malfoy," she said in a near whisper. "You promised."

"I believe my exact words were 'no promises.'"

Hermione shook her head at him –first in disbelief, but also to shake off away the images of last night that had flashed across her memory. The fact that they could be repeated, that she suddenly wanted them to be repeated seemed like an act against nature.

She sighed. "How can you be okay with this?"

Draco stared at her with a raised brow. He didn't have to ask what the "this" was. "I could ask you the same question."

Hermione fidgeted some in her seat. "I asked first."

What can I say? Because I'm tired of being alone? Because you're the only person who's willingly gotten near me in years? Because you so happen to have features associated with the woman I fell for in record time? A woman who wasn't afraid of me. Yes, the latter sounds better. Less desperate. Although, a bit depressing.

Draco let out his own sigh. "Because…I still think of you as the woman in white."

Hermione frowned. "I… I don't know how exactly to take that. It's not exactly a compliment. You, pretending that I'm someone else. Someone you don't know."

Draco's voice hitched when he realized how he'd sounded. "Granger, that's not what I-"

"You should like me for me, not the anonymous woman you danced with, kissed-"

"You weren't anonymous when I slept with you." Draco interrupted. "And you shouldn't take what I said as something negative."

Hermione scoffed. "How can I not?"

"Because my thinking of you as I saw you that night is the only way I can be sure you don't hate me."

Hermione's features softened. "What?"

"The woman from that ball didn't know me." He explained. "And she wanted me. You, on the other hand, have a problem with me."

"Malfoy, I don't have-"

"Or the past associated with me at least. I think we already established that a few moments ago, didn't we?"

Her opened mouth snapped shut at that because she did. She didn't want to, but how could she not when he was a walking manifestation of everything that tore their world apart such a short time ago?

"It's your turn to answer the question."

"I guess…it's the same as you." Hermione reluctantly answered. "It's hard to separate you from the man from that night. I try not to so I'm not scared."

Draco looked crestfallen. "I don't want you to be afraid of me."

"The past associated with you, you mean." She corrected. "It's nothing you should take personally. As for you as a person, I'm not afraid."

The blond wanted to smile, but he refrained. Was it too early to be happy about this prospect? It could be. So, instead he offered a tight-lipped nod. He wanted to say something else too, so he did, slowly letting the words spill from his mouth as he tested this new ground between them.

"You'd be the first out of a sea of people, Granger." Draco told her, his vulnerability showing much more than he would like. "At least…there's one less person to ignore me in the halls."

His words hit Hermione harder than she thought they would. They held so much meaning, so much insight to the man sitting across from her. He was a soul broken and beaten down by society. There was simply no other way to describe it. He was right though. She would be one less person adding to his alienation. Quite honestly, whether she had seen and heard his crumbling façade or not, she wouldn't have been able to ignore him even if she wanted to.

"Agreed," Hermione said to his last statement as she rose from her seat. Draco did the same, gathering his book in his hands while she picked up her three.

Without another word they wandered through the library. Draco followed closely as the witch checked the spines of her books and referenced them to shelf numbers so she could remember where she'd gotten them from. It was as he stared at her back that he realized for the first time that she was wearing his robes.

Had she been wearing them all this time?

The verbal incident that followed after giving her those robes plagued his mind. As of right now her skin had returned to its natural shade and he found himself wanting to paint her red again. But how could he bring up that blessed catalyst without some sort of leeway?

Thank Merlin, she gave him one. Sort of.

"That's the last one." Hermione announced, more to herself than for his benefit. The third book she had floated up to its proper location and she smiled as she watched it go. They were standing near the entrance to the restricted section –its door wide open and beckoning them to the outside world where the rest of the masses resided.

All Draco wanted was a fix. The image of a flustered Granger and he could walk away with a slight skip to his step as he returned to his House. He stood behind her and he leaned down, his lips nearly brushing her ear.

"It was a pleasure."

There.

A furious blush stretched across the little of her neck he could see. Hermione turned around to face him, her neck and chest exposed to him since she hadn't bothered to fasten the robes together.

"I'm sorry." Draco said, hardly sorry at all. And he looked it. Completely unapologetic as his eyes danced with merriment. "I couldn't resist."

Resist.

Hermione had found yet another word that sent pleasurable shivers through her. It was less the way his lips formed to create it, but rather the way it sounded. The enticing adjective was like velvet on his tongue –dipping low and sensual when it came to the "ZIST" and ending in a soft trail.

Resist.

Yes, it was something quite hard to do. Especially when the subject of your spontaneous bodily reactions now had the same mirth as he did the night when he took all of your senses away.

Tonight –or this morning, rather –made it the second time Hermione had initiated a kiss with Draco. He, honestly, hadn't expected it. It hadn't been his goal. He had been more than certain that a repeat of what had happened out on the grounds would never happen again. Or at least not so soon. All he had wanted was something to satisfy his infatuation with her flustered appearance.

Not that he was complaining.

Draco had been more than happy to close the door to the restricted section and to become completely unrestricted.

In a library.

On a table.

Amidst unreturned books.

Completely ignoring the sign above them that read, "No loud noises."

Author's note: I don't think I've ever been more interested in going to a library…

Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for the support this story has been getting. I'm really happy and I'm glad that I could write something that interests you :).

Until the next chapter!

-WP