Disclaimer: Nothing remotely involving Harry Potter belongs to me.
A/N: Yay! You guys are so fabulous!! I wanted to get a quick chapter out for all you wonderful, wonderful supporters and the few reviewers. I'm so happy someone actually read this. Much less enjoyed it! Please let me know if anything needs clarification or if you have any suggestions for anything. I ALWAYS welcome feedback! Enjoy my lovelies!
He felt her the minute she came through the doors. Every cell in his body was yearning to be near her, touch her, hold her against him. Draco groaned in frustration quietly into the shelves, burying himself deeper within the deep rows of books. It was getting to be unbearable. The instant his hand brushed against her, the instinct to take her swelled exponentially within him. He came to the library to calm down, return his heartbeat to normal and avoid the bustle of the hallway. He had just begun to calm himself when he felt her enter.
Hermione opened her eyes and allowed herself to look in his direction and find the he had disappeared. She sighed, feeling a slight loss at his absence. Her senses quickly returned and shook her head at her silly actions and utterly insane feelings, heading for her favorite table near the window in her sanctuary. Hermione dropped her books off, still feeling a dull ache in her core to be nearer to something unknown. She entered the stacks, moving aimlessly throughout them, waiting for something to catch her eye.
Draco winced, hurrying around the shelf before she could see him. He watched her, absentmindedly glancing at the shelved tomes that look of curiosity and insatiable love for learning etched on her face. Since he came into his inheritance and discovered her as his mate, Draco found himself taking joy in all her little mannerisms he had never paid attention to before. The way she bit her lip and wrinkled her forehead when she was in deep thought, her relaxed smile when she was with her friends, the way she stifled a yawn with her hand, and his favorite, the way her head tilted back, exposing her beautiful neck and glowing skin when she laughed.
She ran her hands over the spines of the books, waiting for one to call out to her. Her mind drifted back to the incident in the hall, all her books scattered on the floor. Hermione had noticed it. Malfoy was different this year. He seemed to have lost his callous sense of humor, still snarky to be sure, but not hurtful. Certainly, everyone had changed since the war. Families, including the Malfoys, were stronger, closer, and everyone had matured. She stopped, sitting on the floor, her back against the stacks and sighed, letting her head rest back against a shelf of Charms texts.
Ron was so sure Hogwarts wouldn't open after the war. They had lost so many, her heart clenched at the thought, (Draco felt her pain in the next row of books, sitting opposite her and made a slight move to go to her before catching himself.) Hermione took in a deep, strong breath to steady herself and moved past the thoughts of loss. Sure enough, the Wizarding community had come back strong, offering a well of support for the reconstruction of the school and reestablishment of educational foundations. Many students whose educations were disrupted by the war returned to finish as best they could. Hermione leapt at the chance to finish, never satisfied with the amount of learning she had accomplished, and convinced Ron it was important to join her. Harry had his doubts about needing further education, but Hogwarts was still a home to him, and he returned more than willingly.
Ginny, of course, returned along with most of the younger students. Draco was one of the only Slytherins to come back, Pansy and Blaise with him. Dean and Seamus were back, and Neville, most everyone who hadn't suffered a life-threatening injury or perished in the battles were back, working diligently to catch up on all the material they had missed.
Hermione wiped a tear away, not realizing she had let herself crack as she thought once more about the pain, so closely entwined with the pain of loss at returning without all the friends she had held so dear. She sniffled and stood up, bracing herself against the shelf for a moment to get her balance back.
Draco couldn't hold back anymore. She was hurting, and he could feel it. And he hated it. He had to go to her, hold her. He felt the intense need to wipe her tears away and hold her heart in his hands, cradling it softly and soothing it. The war had been awful for everyone, even with the good that came from it. The rediscovery of his parents' love for him had been a small but worthwhile outcome of the Final Battle. His respect for Harry had only grown since then, and his abhorrence of his past behavior toward him and his friends grew with it, especially when he thought of Hermione.
"Hey," He called softly, turning the corner as she wiped furiously at her eyes, "alright Hermione?" Draco moved slowly, gently toward her, not wanting to frighten her. After all, she still thought he hated her, he was sure. She startled at his presence and backed away infinitesimally. His heart clenched. "I just, I heard you crying." He spoke quietly, soothingly, worried at how she would react.
"I'm fine Malfoy." She spoke spitefully, but not with as much hate as he expected. Hermione looked up defiantly at his face and their eyes locked.
Her still watering eyes glistened in the soft light of the library and the setting sun. His eyes, dark with things unspoken melted into her deeply. The quickening feeling within her began again, suddenly she couldn't breathe. Her mind was completely wiped blank, her pulse flying through her, every beat wanting her to move closer to him. He studied her reaction, searched her eyes for any slight glimpse of her he could extract.
Confusion.
Enchantment.
Fear.
She began to shake with anticipation, anticipation she didn't understand and didn't want to explore. He couldn't look away, though he knew it was frightening her. She was caught, a gentle and delicate doe, vulnerable under his strong and imposing stare. He didn't mean to be forceful; it was simply his nature, the beast within him. She gasped, remembering at once that her body needed oxygen and blinked rapidly, breaking the tense connection between them. It felt like the air, which had been charged with electricity, but unmoving between them had been rushed away by a cold and awakening burst of wind.
"Hermione…" He trailed off, his hand lingered in the air between them awkwardly. He longed to bridge the gap and feel the sting of that exquisite flame of her skin.
"I need to go." She all but whispered. "Harry and Ron will be wondering where I am." Hermione avoided looking at him fervently. "I'll see you in class Draco." She left quickly with her eyes on the floor, not once looking back at him.
He smiled. She said his name when she left. 'Draco.' He thought, reveling in the way it rolled off her tongue so decadently. It was a small victory, but it was progress. And as he took a step, he felt his heart dancing with hope.