A/N: I don't own anything.

I hope you enjoy! This is going to be a short, sweet, and light chapter.

Chapter 3

Brighton, England. December 2007

On a dreadful snowy day, Hermione found herself idly sitting by her The Hiraeth's window, sipping hot tea and watching the heavy snowfall. There was no one in her shop but her - Penelope couldn't come in due to the weather, and she didn't suppose anyone would go to a community library in these conditions.

As she gazed on the empty streets outside, she caught a little movement, but she wasn't sure. She set her tea down and moved closer to the window, peering with stilted eyes.

It was hard to see through the snow, but there was definitely something - someone - walking across the street, headings towards her library.

Hermione didn't realize what was happening until it stepped right into her shop, causing such a ruckus inside her once tranquil environment. It dusted the snow off its hair, and it shook the snow from its robes, muttering to itself.

.

"Uhm hello?" The tall, blonde man was rousing up a storm in her library, and Hermione couldn't find it in herself to answer him. She was frozen to her spot by the windowsill, eyes wide and surprised.

"Is this bloody shop even open? It's not even locked..."

He was murmuring to himself, obviously rattled and frustrated. "Hello? I'm sorry, I know there's a storm outside but I really need..."

She knew she should answer, as any good shop owner would, but it seemed like Hermione's mind was on lockdown. He continued to mutter intelligible things to himself, warming his hands against the cold.

There was no mistaking who this man was, although it's been ten years or so. Although it seemed impossible, improbable, and downright laughable, Draco Malfoy was in her shop, looking lost, and most likely in need of her assistance.

.

It felt like an infinity before he finally calmed down. He took a slow turn, taking in his surroundings, probably looking for the shop owner. When his eyes finally settled on her, he stared for a few seconds before he exploded.

"BLOODY HELL, ZABINI!" Draco Malfoy slapped a hand against his face in frustration, pacing by the entrance of her shop.

Hermione jumped at his outburst, her heart hammering beyond her chest. Zabini? What? She stood up from her seat, taking an uneasy step towards her old classmate.

"Uhm, Malfoy?"

He spun towards her, his eyes still wide, his mouth agape.

"Please shut the door. The snow's coming in."

He did as he was told, without comment.

.

Malfoy shut the door, seemingly lost in thought. He stared at the door as if his life depended on it - and Hermione chose to use his distraction as an opportunity to walk to the librarian's desk.

She made herself busy, arranging all the cards and papers that were neatly organize on her desk.

Her heart hammered as she hear Malfoy's footsteps coming towards her.

"Granger."

This was so childish. Why can't she look at him? Why was she so bloody nervous? Was she scared? Has the childhood trauma he induced in her finally come to the surface?

"Granger."

Hermione looked up from her table, her chin held high.

"Yea?"

"I've a list of books," Malfoy said. "I saw that you have them. I'd like to borrow."

Granger took the list from him, reading it. It contained a mix of muggle and wizarding reference books, and most of them are her newly acquired books requested by her secret benefactor.

He was the first person to borrow even one of them.

Hermione had thought that the moment she put them on display, people would come in clamoring for her rare books. But during the almost half year they've been here, no one even asked about them.

Until Draco Malfoy stormed in, that is.

She peered at him through her lashes, observing him. "What are you going to do with these books, Malfoy?"

He looked at her incredulously, an eyebrow raised. "Excuse me? I didn't know libraries asked for a person's intention to borrow books." He took a long pause, drawing himself to his full height. "Unless, of course, they're death eaters, right, Granger?"

Hermione felt the heat rise up to her face. She resisted the urge to hung her head in shame. Instead, she made to apologize, but he beat her to it by raising a finger to her face.

"Don't. I would have thought it beneath you to dwell in what happened a decade ago, but apparently not. Those books," he gestured to her list, "are going to be used for my education, Granger."

Hermione was at loss for words. "It was never really supposed to be part of my concern. I'm sorry. Really, I am."

Malfoy scoffed. "Don't mention it again, Granger."

She nodded, biting her lip. "I'll get them for you," she said, leaving her post from the reception. She could feel his eyes trained on her as she took the books from the shelves.

.

"Here you go," Hermione said, securing the books with a leather book belt. She charmed them with a protection spell for the weather. "Return them in a week, or send a notice that you're going to extend your borrowing time."

Malfoy nodded, taking the bundle from her. Malfoy left her shop without a word, letting the cold in for a second before closing it again with a bang.

Hermione stared at the door for a few more minutes before she decided it was time to close The Hiraeth for the day.

.

Hermionoe threaded through the snow, going for the nearest apparition point. She decided her encounter with Malfoy was more than enough adventure she had for the day. She can't wait to get home and unwind.

As Hermione settled down in her flat, she took the time to think about what happened earlier. Hermione didn't want to dwell on it, but there were so many alarm bells ringing in her head.

First of all, Draco Malfoy just stormed in her library during a snowstorm, looking flustered. It was a far cry from the polished, neat atmosphere Malfoy always exuded.

Second, Hermione found it strange that all the books he borrowed were the newest addition to her bookshop, courtesy of her secret benefactor.

Third, when Malfoy saw her, all he did was curse at Zabini, who wasn't even there. What was that about?

Fourth, seeing it only now, Hermione noted that he didn't look at her with malice not once. Just shock and embarrassment, with a little resignation. It almost went bad because of her actions.

She hasn't seen him since the war - almost ten years from now. She only saw him once, in the papers, during Malfoy Sr.'s funeral.

After that, it was as if he ceased to exist.

Until he arrived in her library with snow in his hair.

A/N: Thank you so much for the nice welcome back! Let me know what you think!