Author's notes: Thanks for the continuing support! This is going to be a long one.

Chapter 5

London, England. December 2007

The rest of the weekend was slow and uneventful, and thankfully so, for Hermione still suffered from the effects of Luna's exquisite stew. She spent most of it cooped up in her office hugging the toilet while Penny took the reigns at the Hiraeth.

Her assistant proved to her that she was more than capable of taking care of the library on her own. So, on Wednesday, as soon as Hermione was feeling well, she decided to do a massive inventory of her shop.

"Fine," Penny said, "but if Mr. Smith comes and asks for his usual, I'm calling you for help. I won't have an hour length lecture about how Hermione mixes it 'just right.'"

Hermione laughed and thanked Penny as she went on her way.

.

She was tallying the books currently borrowed when Penny tapped her on the shoulder.

"Hermione, there's a delectable man by the bar waiting for you."

She blinked, confused. "What?"

"There's a tall blonde man waiting for you outside. His exact words were, 'Who are you? Where the bloody hell is Granger?' I assumed that meant he was looking for you."

While Penny was talking, Hermione was staking the jars on top of each other and putting them back. Her heart was hammering against her chest. She was hoping, by some miracle that "delectable, tall, blonde man" wasn't Malfoy. Not that Hermione thought Malfoy was delectable.

"So.. is he your boyfriend?" Penny asked her.

"What?" Hermione whipped her head to look at Penny, who was frowning at her.

"What's wrong with you? Are you alright?"

"What? Yea, I'm fine." She rearranged the jars for the last time and closed the stock room's door. "Where did you say he was waiti - oh, there he is."

Draco Malfoy looked different in the sunlight. He stood against the window, the light making him glow like some unearthly being. His hair looked almost translucent.

Hermione heard Penny beside her. "I want some of that," she said under her breath.

She glared at her assistant before making her way to Malfoy.

"Mafloy," Hermione said as a way of greeting. She could feel the eyes boring into her back behind her.

"Granger," he nodded. "I came to return these," he showed her the bundle of books she gave him last week, "and I've got another list of books I need to borrow."

Oh. Hermione chastised herself for feeling disappointed.

"Right. This way," Hermione said, making her way to the librarian's desk. "Were you able to digest all the books you borrowed?" Why she made an attempt at small talk, she didn't know why.

Malfoy only grunted in reply.

Well, that's that.

Hermione set to work without saying anything. She took the books from him, signed their return sheet and checked his new list. She tried not to think of what Blaise and Luna told her about Malfoy, or the fact that he was borrowing more books requested by her anonymous benefactor.

When she was about to put the book strap on the books, Malfoy stopped her with his hand. "Uhm," he started, and Hermione looked at him expectantly. "Yea, can I stay here and study for a bit?"

Hermione blinked. "Are you asking for my permission?"

"Yea."

"Uhm," Hermione said, fighting the blush rising to her cheeks.

Someone from one of the tables to her side cleared their throat loudly. She looked and saw three old ladies cheering her with a thumbs up. Well, there goes the attempt to conceal the blush.

"Of course. This is a public library. We're not the kind of place where you need to be a member or something," Hermione chided lightly.

Malfoy chuckled, and Hermione frowned in confusion. "Yea, alright. I'll go find a table."

.

Malfoy kept coming in for the rest of the week. He would come in at 11 in the morning, on the dot, and leave at 4 in the afternoon. He would have his lunch at the cafe, and he would indulge in small talk with some of the old ladies every once in a while. He would study at the quiet area of the Hiraeth.

Hermione made sure she saw little of Malfoy as much as possible. She still didn't know what to feel about him. Obviously, he was no longer the evil little bully she used to know, but it was hard to forget.

Also, Hermione was pretty sure he was the secret benefactor. Not only had Malfoy borrowed all the books the nebefactor requested, but when a letter came in requesting a new book, Malfoy was the one who borrowed it the very next day.

She didn't want to be rude and confront him about it, but she did want to confirm her suspicions.

She tried to find the balance between avoiding him and making him admit he was the secret benefactor. What she ended up with was a clumsy mixture of staring too long at Malfoy from a distance and looking away when he met her eye.

All week long, his presence tortured her, and Saturday was no different. She had thought that he would skip going to the Hiraeth during the weekend, but he still showed up, on time and looking as crisp as autumn leaves.

Hermione was returning the borrowed books on the shelves when he appeared at the end of the aisle. He scanned the titles, closer to the middle where he would meet Hermione.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, trying not to think about him - it - the situation.

When they stopped and met in the middle, she forgot how to breathe. Hermione kept her eyes on the shelves, but she could feel his eyes on her.

Dammit, he had the advantage. He was nearly a head taller than her. If she were to look at him, it would be so obvious.

"Granger?'

"Yes?" She looked up at him immediately, as if she was anticipating it. Maybe she was. What she didn't anticipate, however, was how beautiful - weird - his eyes were.

"You have a nice collection of books here. It's impressive."

What?

"Really now," she said, unable to hide the sarcasm in her voice. She took a step back and looked him full in the face. Was he really asking her this?

"Yea," Malfoy said, looking around him. "For such a small bookshop, you have rare books even university libraries don't."

Hermione frowned. Was he messing with her?

"I had some help," Hermione explained in a clipped tone. Was he trying to throw her off? Make her think he wasn't the one donating these to her?

Malfoy snorted, taking a book from the shelf. "I suppose you did. You're the great Granger. People would break their backs for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione was growing annoyed by the second.

"Nothing," Malfoy said, closing the book and taking it with him to one of the isolated tables.

What the bloody hell?

Hermione didn't know what to think of their exchange. 'People would break their backs for you'? Does that include him, the secret benefactor? She spent the rest of the morning lost in thought.

The afternoon rolled by, and Hermione resigned herself to the librarian's desk. She hadn't seen an inch of Malfoy for the rest of the day, and that was fine with her.

"I'll have my usual," she heard Ms. Amelia say. She was by the bar, talking to Penny. When Penny handed her the drink, she started towards her usual seat by the windows.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Amelia," Hermione cheerfully. The older woman only nodded in acknowledgement.

.

It was not after a few moments that Hermione heard an anguished scream, followed by a loud crash. She tumbled out of her desk and ran to the tables by the window, where she met a shocking sight: Ms. Amelia was baring her teeth and pointing her wand at Draco Malfoy, who was on the floor and... smoking?

"Oh, Merlin," Penny whispered beside her. "She threw her hot tea at him."

Hermione moved fast. It looked Ms. Amelia was ready to throw a hex at her old schoolmate at that very moment. She held Ms. Amelia by the shoulders and tried to stir her away from Malfoy.

"Fucking scum!" Ms. Amelia screeched. "Death eater scum!"

Oh, boy.

Penny took the older woman from Hermione.

The silence was palpable. Not even the sound of Penny struggling to usher Ms. Amelia outside the shop could break the tension. Hermione wished the ground would swallow her whole.

But people were starting to whisper among themselves, and no one was helping Malfoy up. Hermione had no choice but to do it herself.

"Come on, Malfoy, let's get you up," she said, stepping over the upturned table and chairs. She could feel the heat coming from the tea on his shirt - no doubt his skin was scalded underneath his clothes.

She reached for his arm and didn't miss how he winced in pain as she touched his - very sturdy - arm.

"I've got it, Granger," he told her once she sat him up. He kept his head low, avoiding the stares of he people around them.

Which reminders her -

"Penny," she called for her assistant. "Please contact the MLE. Tell them a witch exposed herself to a few muggles - you know the drill."

Penny nodded in agreement and Hermione turned back to Malfoy. "Let's get you in my office. Can you stand?"

"Of course I can bloody stand," she heard him murmur. She ignored his comment and led the way, avoiding the eyes of her customers.

She locked the door once Malfoy was in her thankfully spacious office.

"Malfoy," she started, "I am so terribly -"

"Do you have a shirt somewhere?" Malfoy interrupted, turning away from her and undoing the buttons on his shirt.

"I can transfigure one for you," Hermione said, walking to her table. She took a blank sheet of paper and transfigured it into a white shirt. "Here you go - oh!"

Hermione had turned to walk where she last saw him standing, but apparently he walked closer to her. And he was shirtless. She almost bumped into his - um - sculpted chest. She took a step back almost immediately, and so did he.

"Uhm," Hermione blinked, feeling the heat rising to her ears, her cheeks, her chest, everywhere. "Here you go," she squeaked, handing him the bloody shirt. "But first we need to, uhm, heal your skin."

"Yes, I think so, too."

They stood there awkwardly, not doing anything.

"Granger, I'm sorry if this is uncomfortable for you, but I don't have a wand."

"What? Why? That's dangerous, Malfoy," she couldn't but scold him.

He shrugged. "Ever since I've learned to apparate without one, I almost always leave at the do- at home."

"But why?"

Malfoy refused to meet her eyes. "So I can't do anything when things like this happen."

Oh. Oh, dear.

Hermione told him to sit on the chair behind her desk. He did so without complaint. She murmured a healing spell, watching as his skin turned back to normal. Malfoy breathed a sigh of relief.

"There you go," Hermione said, turning away as fast as possible and throwing the shirt at him.

Malfoy chuckled at her. "Am I distracting you, Granger?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Barely."

"There's no need to deny it," he said with mirth.

Hermione groaned. "Honestly!"

.

When they emerged from the office, the customers were gone and Penelope was giving a statement to the MLE officer. When he saw Malfoy, he took him aside to get his statement.

Penny, on the other hand, ushered Hermione to the corner.

"Ms. Amelia talked," she said in a hushed tone. "When we were made her statement. She said Death Eaters killed her boyfriend and family ten years ago."

So this is what Blaise and Luna were talking about.

"She was going to Avada him, she told me."

"That's horrible!" Hermione glanced at Malfoy. He was talking to the officer calmly. Hermione surmised he was used to it.

.

"Their damn prejudice never ends," Malfoy spat as they walked to the nearest apparition point.

Hermione closed the Hiraeth as soon as the MLE officer left. Since her flat was near the apparition point, she decided to walk with Malfoy, who was ranting about how the officer was implying that he instigated the attack against him.

"'Are you sure you didn't do anything to provoke her, sir?'" Malfoy was mimicking the officer's Scottish accent mockingly. "And I told him I didn't, and he looked like he didn't believe me."

He huffed in frustration. "If it wasn't for you and your weirdly strong assistant, I bet that officer would detain me."

"Well, we were just trying to do what's right."

"As you do," Malfoy commented, stepping into the apparition point. "You'll understand if I don't show up on your shop tomorrow, right?"

Hermione smiled sadly. "Stay safe, Malfoy."

Author's notes: Don't forget to leave a review! I'd love to hear your thoughts.