I couldn't wait to get the next chapter out, so...here it is!

I also wanted to say a quick thank you to the people who have taken the time to leave reviews of the story so far. I am really enjoying reading them!

Chapter 15

Draco woke up a couple of hours earlier than he had planned, having tossed and turned for most of the night. He decided to head to the Prefect's bathroom to have a nice long soak, as well as some time and space alone to think. With his school clothes and towel flung over one arm and his toiletries and wand in hand, he made his way through the still-silent corridors and up the shifting staircases to the fifth floor.

"Squeaky Clean," he said to the statue of Boris the Bewildered, which moved aside to reveal the white marble room behind. Draco walked to the massive sunken tub, setting his clothes and towel down on one of the marble benches that sat at the edge of the bath as he passed, and turned on the taps to begin filling the colossal bath. He also turned a few extra taps to add some frothy bubbles that scented the water and the air with patchouli, apples, and (because he couldn't seem to get her off his mind) vanilla.

Once the swimming pool sized tub was full, he waved his wand to turn off the many taps and sank with a sign into the nearly scalding water: just the temperature he preferred. Laying his head back against the cool marble that surrounded the deep bath, he allowed his thoughts to stray back to Hermione.

He was beginning to care for her, much more than was probably wise considering the fact that she was not only a muggle-born, but also the best friend of the Dark Lord's number one target. Not to mention the fact that said dark wizard, who wanted to destroy all those like her based on their birth alone, was essentially living under Draco's roof. Add to all of that the fact that his father and mother had raised him to believe that anyone who was not of Pureblood ancestry was nowhere near worthy enough to even be considered for joining into the noble house of Malfoy. A half-blood could be seen as acceptable for a dalliance or two, nothing more than that. A muggle-born, though? Forget it.

"But," Draco mused quietly, speaking aloud to himself in the otherwise silent, empty room, "clearly my father's thoughts about muggle-borns being unworthy of the magic they have 'stolen' from wizards has been wrong from the very beginning. Granger is the most capable witch I've ever met, and no one could argue that she isn't worthy of every drop of magic that runs through her veins, muggle-born or not. And her magic certainly isn't stolen, I don't know how father ever believed that load of hippogriff dung."

He found himself once again wishing that he had been kinder to her over the last six years, that he had been a better man, but he knew that it never would have happened. Not only had he been too much of a self-centered prat to worry about being kind to Gryffindor know-it-alls who outscored him in every subject, he had also hated Potter too much; any friend of his was automatically going to end up being a target of Draco's ire. He did know now, however, that he thought of her as much, much more than just 'Potter's swotty friend' and that he would do just about anything to earn her forgiveness and good favor.

At this point, he mused as he climbed out of the bath and waved his wand to drain the water, wrapping a towel around his waist, the thought of not spending time with her hurt nearly as much as a physical wound. He craved her presence like an addictive potion, the type that parents warn their children sternly about ever using. Regardless of how much of a greedy asshole it made him, he hoped he wouldn't have to spend a single day without seeing her face or hearing her laugh, or kissing her lips while he held her close.

He didn't attempt to put a name to the feeling that had been bubbling in his chest for longer than he had even been aware of, but he knew it was something that he had never felt for anyone else before, not in the way he felt about Granger. The realization should have shocked him, it certainly would have appalled his younger self, but instead it was…liberating. Almost like coming home.

Hermione went through her morning in a kind of daze. Her realization the night before, that she had somehow fallen for Draco Malfoy, had left her normally quick brain befuddled. Her intentions from the beginning had only ever been to help someone who she believed had been forced into a terrible situation when he had been too young to make that decision for himself. Now, however, she had found herself in love…or nearly there, at least. But she had also decided that she did not mind.

Luckily there was something that helped to snap her back to reality before Harry had noticed that something was going on: Apparition Lessons! She had been looking forward to this all term, and now it was time to sign up! Knowing that their first lesson would be in just three weeks' time made her practically giddy with excitement. In addition to the normal thrill she always felt at the thought of learning something new, she also knew that this was something she needed to learn; once Voldemort gained even more power, it could prevent her from ending up in a position that she couldn't escape from if, or more likely when, she found herself in one.

She resolved to spend her free time in between classes in the library studying up on anything she could get her hands on, much to Harry's chagrin.

"C'mon, 'Mione! It's the first day back, are we really going to spend the entire day in the library?"

"Harry," Hermione said in exasperation, hiding the grin that threatened to break free at her best friend's petulant tone. "We must be prepared for this! Apparition is incredibly tricky to get right and takes a lot of time and practice to get right, from everything I've read. Plus, you don't want to do it wrong get yourself splinched, do you?"

While she spoke, her hands waved around emphatically as they were prone to do when she was feeling particularly passionate about something. Harry reached out, stopping her by grabbing ahold of her wrist gently. She watched as he examined the bracelet that was clasped around her right wrist.

"That's pretty, 'Mione. Did you get that for Christmas?"

Hermione felt a wave of guilt rush over her. This hadn't been the first time that she had felt guilty about the fact that she was hiding her friendship with Draco from Harry, and she felt bad about the fact that she had been lying to him for so long. So, she just nodded, not offering up anything more.

"It's nice," her best friend said, releasing her wrist from his grasp. "I didn't notice it yesterday."

"Oh, yeah… I, um, I didn't wear it yesterday. I didn't want to, uh, risk losing it at the station or on the train."

The lie did not slip easily off her tongue, but Harry nodded in understanding, not questioning her word, and continued on with her to the library.

Once they were seated, a stack of books about magical methods of travel piled on the table in between them, Hermione took Harry's momentary distraction to study the bracelet herself. She smiled softly as she looked at it, her thoughts once again focused on the man who had put it there. Although she couldn't tell Harry about Draco, and in spite of the guilt she felt over keeping the secret from him, she felt no guilt whatsoever regarding her feelings for Draco.

She was content in the knowledge of her feelings for the moment. What would she decide to do with that knowledge? Well…she would figure that part out later.

Song Inspiration: Foreigner's God – Hozier (Draco's POV)

Movement – Hozier (Hermione's POV)

Things are starting to grow between our favorite couple! Wonder what's in store for them?...

sbz