AN: Would it make you feel better if I told you that I feel AWFUL for taking this long? Whenever I found free time (and let me tell you, it has been very hard to come by!) I was never motivated or I was just tired as hell. So, I am very, very sorry. Please accept this chapter as my apology. It's a cute one! I promise. : )

Thank you to Ducky, who won the cameo contest/whatever it was that I did this time!

TASTE—Fifth Year

With the castle in a constant state of mourning after Cedric's passing, the library became even more of a haven to Hermione than it was on a normal, day-to-day, basis. Needless to say, when the last day of term came, Hermione welcomed it with the excitement that a child would wake up with on Christmas morning. And indeed, her summer passed calmly and quietly with little sadness, and naturally, lots of reading. The only thing that would seem unnatural about the summer before Hermione's fifth year was the amount of time she spent idly. It was common for her parents to find her just lying around with a smile on her face and no book in her hand. Suffice to say, she was thinking about the Yule Ball and her few dances with Draco. The rest of that night was eclipsed behind that single memory.

She spent the first half of her summer trying to rationalize it and pass her emotions off as giddiness from the dance, and the remaining portion of it was spent accepting the fact that she was, in fact, slightly infatuated with Draco Malfoy: her first real friend at Hogwarts, but for appearances' sake, her "enemy". It was the first time that Hermione could remember having knowledge, and not knowing exactly what to do with it. There were no tests to apply it to, nor any essays to analyze it in. Faced with this unusual predicament, Hermione started her fifth year in a state of uncertainty and—dare she think it?—longing.

As a fifth year prefect, Hermione was required to patrol the hallways as per the schedule created by the head students. Unfortunately for her, that was not always time well spent. Most nights, she spent patrolling the halls after curfew Hermione found her thoughts, as school-oriented as they always started out, ending up focusing largely on Draco. A month after term began, the patrol schedule changed and instead of patrolling alone, she was paired with a fifth year Hufflepuff named Leila Smithfire. Hermione looked forward to the companionship in the hopes that idle chatter would distract her from additional, Draco-dwelling thoughts.

Leila Smithfire was quite pretty in a very classic way with a petite figure and straight mahogany hair that fell down about mid-back. The beginning of their first patrol together started very amiably, for Hermione found that the two of them had much in common: they both enjoyed to read and study, and consequently had phenomenal grades. Though where Hermione was more apt to spend time in the library, Leila admitted to being a Quidditch fanatic. She tried out for the house team and was made a reserve Chaser. As interested in the conversation as Hermione found herself, she could not help but have the back corner of her mind be somewhere else—more specifically, in Draco's arms at the Yule Ball.

"Okay, I give up," Leila declared suddenly, mid-conversation, causing Hermione to to taken aback and, consequently, stumble. "Where have you gone?"

"What do you mean?"

"What were you just thinking about? A boy, perhaps?" Hermione gave no verbal response, but instead, blushed.

Leila's green eyes widened in shock and she pushed her bangs out of her face. "I was right," she crowed. "I can recognize that look anywhere! You were in your own world with someone special."

Hermione's face was ablaze; she was flabbergasted that a perfect stranger was able to read her so easily. "I don't know what to do about him."

Leila smirked and Hermione flushed even more. "I won't ask who it is you're thinking about, but I will give you my two cents. You need to be impulsive and tell him up front that you fancy him. That's a big thing to lay on someone, so you have two choices from there. You can either snog him senseless, or you can wait for his reaction and give him time to process your feelings."

The next words were spoken barely above a whisper, "What if he doesn't feel the same?"

Her companion smiled softly. "I won't lie, it will hurt like hell and to top it off, you'll be embarrassed too, but at least you'll know and you won't be in the dark anymore. You won't ever know until you say it."

Hermione remained silent.

"I have one more thing to tell you. Go to a place where you can be completely alone with your thoughts and make a list of pros and cons for telling this mystery guy. When you're done with the list, you'll know what you want to do."

Leila looked at her watch, "Patrols are over, and I am craving food, so I will leave you to your thoughts. I wish you luck and courage, Hermione. Tell me how it goes at patrols tomorrow." With that, she was off towards the Great Hall and Hermione was once again, alone with her thoughts. Automatically, her feet started to move and in a short time, she found herself in front of her normal table at the library.

She emptied her bag on the table, searching for a quill and parchment to write down the pros and cons of Leila's advice. An hour later and all Hermione had to show for her efforts was a small list of three pros and two cons. The odds weren't as in Hermione's favor as she had hoped for, and now, she was stuck. With a cry of frustration, she took the parchment, balled it up and threw it across the room.

"May I join you?" Hermione let out a small scream of surprise; after the conversation she had had with Leila, and subsequently, the mental one with herself she had been wrestling with for the past hour, she was more on edge than usual.

She put a hand to her rapidly beating heart, "Take a seat," she gestured to the only other chair at the table, and with a casual smirk, he sat down and helped himself to one of the many books in front of her. If possible, her heart rate quickened at the brush of his hand against hers.

"So what brings you to my corner of the library?" Though the words rang of dull repetition, Hermione couldn't help but smile as she said them. She felt like she was a timid first year all over again, only four years later, it wasn't from shyness.

"Well, I kind of have this problem…there's this girl, and I think I fancy her. But I don't think she sees me that way." he trailed off uncertainly.

Hermione nervously curled a strand of hair behind her ear and looked down at the books on the table, bracing herself for the name of the student that she would forever dislike. She had absolutely no hope that it was her. The only time they've ever been civil to each other was when they were alone, and that would hardly be anything to base a relationship on. And she slapped him, for Merlin's sake! What would he want with a girl who'd slapped him? "Who is she?" Hermione kept her eyes locked firmly on the books below her, refusing to let him see the sadness on her face when he named someone else.

"Hermione," he whispered, "it's you." She looked up, hardly daring to believe her ears.

The way Leila had put it; he had two choices from this point on. He could a) kiss her, or b) wait for her to process what he had just said. Draco chose choice b. He scanned her face, looking for a sign, good or bad; anything that would tell him how she felt. But the Gryffindor was frozen in her tracks. She had no idea how to react.

Hermione, sure to be top of the school in O.W.L.s this year, knew better than to second-guess herself on multiple choice questions; Draco, however must not have known, for Instead of waiting for her to say something and following through with choice b, he changed his answer to a, and leaned forward to kiss her softly on the mouth.

The instant their lips met, a rush of emotions and ecstasy greeted Hermione. Within that small area of contact, she could feel the friendship he had extended to her in their first year, the laughter he drew out of her their second year, the forgiveness he gave her in third year, and the security she felt in his arms just last year. Her mind reeled: who knew that the taste of one person's mouth could evoke such a multitude of emotions? Amidst the whirlwind of though flooding through her mind, one thing was perfectly clear to Hermione: she could not—no, she would not lose him.

Hermione removed her lips from Draco's and stood up, offering him her hand and without a moment of trepidation, he took it. With his fingers laced through hers, they walked out of the library and through the halls of Hogwarts, ready for the inevitable onslaught of protests concerning their unspoken, newly-formed, relationship. They both took comfort and strength in the presence of the other. Sensing her nervousness, Draco squeezed her hand lightly, letting her know he was there, and she smiled. He was by her side just as he had been from the very beginning, and she knew he always would be.

It had only taken five years for her to sense it.

AN2: END OF SENSORY PERCEPTION! I hope you liked this little series.

I love you all and I am sorry that I suck. Please, review! And have (even more!) patience with me. I will try to update very soon. I have a really cute idea for a holiday chapter. : )

PS: I started this on 12:55am (yes, you read that right, AM!) on December 20th, 2010. Yay for insomnia and self-inflicted guilt-trips!