Draco was stuck in time. He laid on his bed replaying the moment in his mind all through the night, losing track of the hour. The moment happened in the blink of an eye. But he could recall every minute detail of when he unveiled himself to Hermione. He could still feel her porcelain hand cupping his cheek which made his stomach scream. Instead of looking at him revulsion, which was expected, her brown eyes swept over him with wonder. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and his own feeble attempts to slow down his breath. But as the words: I've seen worse rolled off her tongue, Draco instantly felt calm and relief. Yet, somehow, he felt even more worried at the same time. Hermione soothed his disquiet about her initial reaction but he suddenly felt nervous about... proving himself... he suddenly just wanted to be good enough. Good enough for her.

He tried to put this feeling into a word as he stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom. The ceiling was like a movie screen on which Draco projected the memory of that moment. It seemed to rewind itself and start over again after Hermione said: I've seen worse endlessly. He shook his head with a crooked smile. He was slightly embarrassed at himself. If you told Draco Malfoy, the purest of the purebloods, that Muggle-born Hermione Granger would leave him weak in the knees after saying a phrase as trifling as I've seen worse at the start of term, he would have laughed sardonically and then probably hex you for being so dense. Draco chuckled darkly. The thought that an almost sarcastic saying gave him that same feeling of a love sonnet should give absolutely sounded dense. Stranger things have happened, though, he admitted.

The fact remained that Hermione didn't react as others had before- flinching, gasping, screaming, and even running away- and just played off his grotesque and monstrous appearance as something trivial. What he looked like did not matter. That was what truly gave him that feeling. That feeling of serenity, contentment, and possessing an anxious desire to be a better man. Draco let his eyelids descend as he exhaled deeply. He still didn't know exactly what the feeling was, or what to call it; the combination of peace and anxiety that he got from Hermione. He came to the conclusion that smitten would be a good enough word for now; Draco Malfoy was smitten by Hermione Granger.

Satisfied, the pale boy rolled over to his side to at last get some sleep. He scrunched up his face in annoyance as light from the window slowly began seeping through his closed eyelids. He squinted his eyes as he opened them and he saw the dewy light in the window. Draco groaned, knowing that any attempt at getting any sleep at this point would be futile, and stood up. He dragged himself to the window and looked out of it. Dawn was breaking and the sun was barely scratching the surface of the horizon. Draco yawned loudly, guessing that it was around 8 0'clock. The sun always rose so late in the Winter.

He was then suddenly struck with the terrible feeling of forgetting something. He couldn't tell if he was nauseous or just imagining it. A Remembrall would have been useful at that point. Draco then reminisced about his first year Hogwarts at his first flying lesson. He was always a skilled enough flyer and he recalled gliding up on his broom, Neville Longbottom's Remembrall clutched in his hand. And then, of course, noble Potter had to join him in the air, threatening to knock Draco off his broom if he didn't hand over the stupid glass ball. Draco laughed in chagrin at the memory. Potter and Draco always got a rise out of each other, even over an insignificant Remembrall. Oddly, it almost made him miss school.

His smile suddenly disappeared. He realized that if he did have a Remembrall at that point, red smoke would be filling it up; Draco completely forgot that he was supposed to be tutored by William with Hermione that day in lessons that hadn't even begun. Draco sprinted out of his room and to William's door. His small rapping on the wood quickly evolved to full on, impatient pounding with his fist. William finally creaked it open, looking groggy in his pajamas with disheveled hair and a weary expression.

Draco began before the tutor had time to voice his annoyance. "We'rehavingschooltodaybutyouneedtomakeitseemlikewedidn'tjuststart." Draco took a breath and finished, "AndIneedtolooksmart."

He gave William some time to process his speed test of a statement. After a while, Draco justified the last bit. "Hermione is coming," the pale boy muttered quietly.

The blind man made an exaggerated noise of clarification while raising an eyebrow and giving his student a devilish grin. Draco's ears turned crimson.

"Shut up," Draco hissed, his cheeks turning the same color as his ears. "What are we studying?"

"Don't worry, I'll come up with something graphic and humiliating," replied William dismissively, stifling a yawn.

"No, no, no," the pale boy urgently said. "I need to know what it is now. I need the answers in advance!"

"Er, yeah, that's called cheating."

"No, that's called 'trying to get a girl to like you while you look like the lead in a slasher flick'," Draco retorted, gesturing to himself.

The tutor sighed and then started to list off some topics, which were quickly shut down. "Potions-"

"-Too obvious"

"History of Magic-"

"-Dull."

"Er, Transfiguration?-"

"-Cliché!"

"No. Cliché is 'the guy liking school to impress the girl'."

Draco ignored his snide remark and then made a suggestion himself. "How about we do some Muggle studies. Specifically literature."

The tutor did not reply, stunned at the proposition.

Draco filled the silence. "You are qualified to teach-"

"-I am," the blind man interjected. "But why do you want them taught?"

This time, Draco went quiet. He didn't really have an explanation. It just seemed such a perfect thing to study with Hermione. After what she told him last night, about her parents, he was hoping to help ease her homesickness. Studying Muggle literature with her would, hopefully, do just that. In the past, Draco would have believed that any Muggle subjects were rubbish and a waste of time. After all, witches and wizards were superior in every way. Muggles, along with everything else wrong with them, were mundane. But Draco was discovering that this wasn't the truth at all. Muggles were brilliant. He learned this from reading their deep and complex literature. He was finding that the only difference Muggles and wizards was that lucky touch of magic. They both had brains and beating hearts. They breathed the same oxygen and the blood that pumped through their veins was the same color. And now that he was thinking about it, the same thing could have been said for Muggle-borns.

Your pureblood looks exactly like my mudblood. Hermione's observation from that fateful day in the Head Boy and Girl office coursed through Draco's mind. He hadn't really given it much thought it before. He was preoccupied with Hermione tracing the scar on his face with her feather-light fingertips, which was a foreign and almost uncomfortable experience at the time. But now that he looked back, he realized how much weight the statement had. It was true. Completely true. "Blood" did not signify a person's worth.

William took Draco's expression of deep thought as an answer and smiled. "Okay."

Draco blinked rapidly as he was pulled out of his daydream. He grinned. "Really?"

"Yes. But not today."

Draco's grin instantly fell. "Why?"

"Hermione's only been here for about a month and a half. Plus, she has actually come down from her bedroom for a very small portion of that time."

"So?"

"So, she's still adjusting. If you really want her to be more comfortable, then give her something she's already comfortable with. Hogwarts is her safe haven; her friends are there, and she is obviously most engaged in a Hogwarts classroom. We should try to make this environment as familiar as possible."

"Okay! So what you're saying is that I should build a Quidditch field in the backyard and then call Hermione a mudblood and make fun of her bushy hair and big teeth. Brilliant!" Draco barked caustically.

William sighed. "No. What I'm saying is that you should take it slow with her."

"I don't have time to take it slow!" Draco moaned, brandishing his tattooed forearm. He looked down at the tattoo, staring at the pile of snow on top of the tree, slightly making it droop. He only had until the flowers bloomed fully on the tree to find someone to love him, so until the end of Spring. Draco then suddenly realized that he had much less than a year. He got the Unbeautify Curse in September! Millicent short-changed him! He would need to pay that witch a visit at some point. He swore that when he got his hands on her, he'd-

" Draco, you can't rush this," William said, putting an end to Draco's violent thoughts. "I mean we are talking about love here. Real love. Now I doubt that if anyone just told you 'I love you' carelessly, it would break the curse. This curse requires very old and powerful magic. The same magic that saved Harry Potter from being killed by Voldemort."

"Love," Draco said shortly.

"Love," William repeated. "And it needs time to develop. You can't expect her to truly love you if she doesn't know anything about you. "

Draco stared at him. He really didn't know why his tutor was giving him a lecture on "love" this early in the day. He just wanted a simple reason why William didn't want to teach Muggle literature.

The pale boy really didn't want to continue to argue with William and he was worried that Granger would be waking up soon. "Alright. Teach the magical subjects. Make it as comfortable, familiar, and as Hogwarts-y as possible, " Draco gave in with a derisive tone.

William raised his eyebrows in contentment and surprise from the surrender of Draco. "Alright." he proceeded to shut his door.

Suddenly, Draco lurched forward and shot his hand between the doorframe and the door, preventing it from closing. "Wait, wait! I still need smart things to say!"

The tutor scoffed. "Good luck with that..." The door shut in Draco's face.

Thanks a million. Draco thought. A wave of panic then crashed onto him. He felt extremely unprepared for that day's lesson and he hoped that he could find some way to impress Hermione before it started. Merlin, he wished he had more time to get more Butterbeer, memorize a poem, or do some romantic gesture.

Sounds of clinking pans and sizzling then echoed from downstairs. Isabella! She would surely give him an idea. Draco dashed into the kitchen and saw the housekeeper cooking some bacon in a pan. "Isabella!"

She turned toward him, prodding the bacon at the same time. "Morning, Draco! Set the table please?"

Draco grunted in impatience and strode over to a cabinet to get the table settings. "Isabella, I need another thinking thing," he stated, clumsily tossing the plates and utensils down onto the table.

She turned around to face him, pan in hand. "Cups?" she said tersely.

Draco grunted again as he rushed to get the cups from the cabinet. "It's for this morning in class. I need another thing Hermione would like." Draco practically threw the cups down to their places, half of them fallen on their side.

Isabella turned off the stove and slid the pile of bacon onto a platter. Next to it were separate platters of scrambled eggs, pancakes, and toast. "Grab a couple of these, will ya?" the housekeeper asked.

Draco rolled his eyes and did what he was told. It was like she was trying to ignore him. Once the platters of food were on the table, Draco tried again. "Isabella. Thinking th-"

She interrupted. "The thing about 'thinking things' is that they should come from you, not me."

"Please! I just need someone to bounce ideas off of."

The housekeeper sighed and motioned for him to go on.

"How about flowers?"

Isabella sighed once more, this time in disappointment, and shook her head.

"Er... more Butterbeer?" Draco proposed.

She shook her head again.

Draco threw his arms in the air with frustration. "Come on Isabella!"

"Don't Come on Isabella me! You're trying to buy her again!"

"But the Butterbeer and book worked perfectly last time!"

"That's because it was an icebreaker- a peace offering if you will. Now that you two are acquainted, you need actually build a relationship. And you can't do that with gifts."

Draco inwardly moaned and realized she was right. The truth was that he was never used to this kind of courtship. Building a relationship with Pansy consisted solely of gifts and snogging. It had seemed too easy to him. Looking back, there was no real relationship at all. They knew nothing about each other and they never really cared about each other either.

Are you honestly that shallow? Draco's pulse quickened as he remembered another moment with Hermione in that office. She was appalled at his reasons for having Pansy as a girlfriend, and he could now see why. Hermione was right again. He was that shallow.

"What do you suggest?" he eventually asked.

"Hermione will like it when you're being kind..."

"Well, I suck at that." Draco retorted, deflated.

Isabella continued. "...When you are being yourself."

"What, this self or the jerk I was?" Draco lashed out, pointing to his chest.

The housekeeper gently placed a hand on his right shoulder. She looked at him with her piercing eyes, saying firmly and sincerely, "The man I know you to be."

Stillness settled between the two. Draco's apprehension was lifted ever so slightly as Isabella's words. He privately hoped that one day Hermione would see that man in him as well and, Merlin willing, he'd see that in himself.

"Boy, I am starved," declared William as he moseyed in five minutes later, his cane making swooshing movements in front of him.

Draco led him to a chair and helped him sit down. The blind man nodded his thanks and placed his cane against the back of his chair. Draco then started to pile food onto William's plate when a certain golden-haired girl standing in the kitchen threshold startled him.

She smiled at Draco which caused him to drop the platter of pancakes onto the table. "Woah! Ground control to Major Tom: everything alright up there?" William asked, staggered by the impact of the clay platter.

Draco didn't hear. He just stood there, stupidly smiling at Hermione. He attempted to stammer out a greeting, but all he managed to get out were unintelligible noises.

Isabella saved him. "Good morning Hermione!"

"Morning," she responded brightly, tearing her eyes away from Draco. "Would you all mind if I joined you for breakfast?"

"NO," Draco said loudly. He cleared his throat in mortification and continued. "I- we would love to have you."

Hermione beamed, which gave Draco the sensation of something in his stomach desperately pushing against the walls, trying to get out.

He pulled out a chair next to his and Hermione glided over and sat down. She murmured a "thanks" as he carefully pushed the seat in.

The whole table enjoyed a pleasant conversation as they ate. Hermione was noticeably loquacious. She asked and answered questions and even told a few funny stories of past events that occurred in that very kitchen. "...Fred and George had turned seventeen so they were taking advantage of their now lawful magic use constantly. They were always Apparating and they even one time bewitched a cauldron of stew, a flagon of Butterbeer, and a breadboard to levitate onto the table. Well, they did more crashing than levitating. Butterbeer and stew to spilled all over the place and the cauldron left a scorch mark." Hermione's eyes scanned the surface of the table. "Ah! Here it is," she exclaimed, pointing to a large black spot burned onto the table.

The lot of them laughed heartily at the tale, but Draco wasn't paying enough attention to. He was transfixed on Hermione. She seemed remarkably comfortable; she was conversing with them like they were old friends and she was found almost always with a toothy grin on her face. Almost. Draco could sense a fraction of tension from her, and honestly, who could blame her? She was isolated from her friends, family, and the outside world. She was terrified for her parents, not knowing if they were safe. And Draco knew that she would much rather be out searching and destroying Horcruxes with her best friends than living with strangers, one of whom having the physicality of a monster. But at least she wasn't closing herself off in her room anymore, and she didn't look at Draco with pure loathing anymore. In fact, she looked at him happily. He had ever before seen that look from her even as his normal self. Of course, he was a downright git back then.

When they were all reclining in their seats with full stomachs, Draco asked, "Ready for school?"

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Yes! Will it be in the library?"

Draco nodded, and she leaped out of her chair. He followed her out of the kitchen but stopped her as she was heading the wrong way. "Hold on."

She turned to him with a quizzical brow. "You said it was in the-"

"Yes, but not that one," Draco replied slyly. "I need you to close your eyes."

Her brow arched higher in confusion, but she did as she was told. Draco stepped behind her and gently whispered, "It's a surprise."

The golden curls on the back of her head shook gently as she giggled. "Okay... I'm trusting you," she said playfully.

"Bad idea," Draco jested, turning back to face her. He was watching her as she stood with shut eyes, the corners of her mouth turned faintly upward. He tentatively reached down and grabbed her hand, and to his enormous relief, he felt a small squeeze back. Draco was frightened that she would jerk back. The mere fact that she didn't made Draco's heart skip beats.

He carefully led the girl to the entrance of the old drawing room. On the way, he kept looking back at her and seeing that her eyes were still completely closed. Once they made it, he let go of her hand and ran to open the curtains. He could see her mouth open and the corners of her eyes squint as the sunshine hit her face. "Can I open them now?" she asked with anticipation.

Draco trotted to stand beside her. "Open."

He heard a gasp come from Hermione, her eyes widening and her mouth agape. She walked into the room, twirling slightly to soak in every inch of the library. She flounced to the bookshelves, skimming her fingers over the titles. She was quietly giggling the whole time, in total awe of the library. Draco watched her silently dance around the room. He recalled her being in the same state when she was in Hogsmeade. She was acting with reckless abandon, completely carefree. This Draco's favorite side to Hermione; when she let go of any obligation or expectation and just lived. Then again, this may have been the true Hermione all along.

"Do you like it?" Draco asked with a smile as she explored.

"Like it? I love it!" Hermione exclaimed, her brown eyes still flitting throughout the room.

"Then it's yours."

Hermione stopped abruptly and looked at Draco. Her irises were swimming with wonder and gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered.

Draco suddenly felt a little warmer.

As he walked in, Hermione asked Draco, "How did you do it?"

"Er, I just figured it out," he fibbed, running a hand behind his head.

He watched her eyes flicker down to a table beside him and she began to snicker. He followed her gaze and saw, in horror, the book Woodworking for Dummies. He snatched the book, threw it on the ground, and kicked it away. He cleared his throat awkwardly as Hermione was laughing away. He noticed how her nose scrunched up and her curls bounced around her head when she laughed. He had seen this before, and the sight was awfully endearing. Hermione was probably the only person whom he allowed to laugh at him, simply to watch her do it, and he was doing just that in this moment.

"Am I late to class?" William voiced as he strolled into the library.

Hermione covered her mouth to stop her giggles as she and Draco flipped around to face the tutor. "Yes you are," Draco griped out of spite. He was a little bitter that William interrupted his time with Hermione.

"Tardy slip for me then," William noted facetiously as he sat down at a table. Draco and Hermione joined him. "Now Hermione, you mentioned this morning to me that you had a class schedule-?" the blind man inquired.

"Oh yes!" Hermione then listed her classes. Draco's jaw plummeted as she stated that all of them were N.E.W.T. level.

William, however, seemed unfazed. "Sounds great. Now Draco, would you mind if we deviate from our current syllabus to Hermione's classes?" William lowered his head at Draco, indicating to go along with it.

But Draco was having a hard time going along with it. Would he mind if he took the most difficult classes with the most clever witch of her age?! Of course! Draco was smart enough and had actually attended a few N.E.W.T. classes but Hermione had practically all that were offered. How, in Merlin's name, was he going to keep up with her?! But he knew that he had to grin and bear it, and to impress this girl at any cost. Draco swallowed and responded, "Not at all," attempting to sound natural.

The tutor then turned to them both. "Then let's begin."

A/N: Just wanted to drop a little note saying if you are out there please leave a review! I love your feedback and any comment about the story. I try to respond to every reviewer through PM at least once, so don't be shy! Thanks!