Hermione

Against my omega's wishes, I finally send Draco's robe away to be washed. I have every intention of returning it but after my evening shower and I open my wardrobe, I see it neatly hanging and it makes me second guess returning it. I stare at the robe, my eyes trailing over the Slytherin house crest. Without much thought to my actions, I pull the robe off the hanger. The fabric feels cool and smooth under my fingertips as I bring it up to my face. Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply, hoping to be able to still smell a faint hint of Draco's scent, that soothing blend of bergamot and something uniquely him. But to the dismay of my omega, the robe smells fresh, clean, and faintly of me.

The comforting scent on his robe was the only thing that brought my omega peace in the evenings. Now, with his scent washed away, my omega stirs within on, on the edge of an outburst. The omega's longing becomes a persistent ache in my chest, urging me to fix what I ruined. I wrap the robe around my pajama-clad form and collapse onto the bed, tears welling in my eyes. I can't tell if they're from my omega mourning the loss of scent or the exasperation by this predicament I'm in.

I tighten his robe around me before I settle in my nest. I nestle into the soft fabric and try to think about the varying ways I can fix this issue so my omega settles at night again. We have flying lessons tomorrow, giving me an opportunity to switch out the robe he is wearing for this freshly laundered one… I nibble on my lower lip, snuggling deeper into bed. It'll be a small window of opportunity but I think I'll be able to manage it.

I remain motionless, lost in thought, as memories of his tender touch from a week ago flood my mind. The way it made me feel, the brief but powerful connection that let my omega take hold–it's a moment my omega has clung to since it's the only time that happened. As my breath slows, I slowly fall asleep.

When I wake up, I find myself lying face down, cocooned in the comforting embrace of the robe. Crookshanks is curled up on the small of my back, and stirs in response to my movement, emitting a displeased 'mrow'. I groggily mumble an apology and sit up, realizing that I inadvertently slept with the robe. I didn't want it to smell of me. Running my hand over my potion-free neck, I bring the fabric to my nose and take a quick sniff. It still smells freshly washed but my scent is undeniable. I hang the robe back up and carry it to the window, hoping to air it out while I get ready for the day. As I prepare to leave, I swiftly flick my wand, causing the robe to neatly fold itself and tuck away into my bag. I dash out the door and down to breakfast.

After Herbology, Ginny intercepts me before I can start towards meeting Draco. Her excitement is palpable as she nudges my shoulder playfully.

"The ball is just a week away! Has your dress arrived yet? I can't wait to see it!" She exclaims, anticipation in her voice.

I offer a sheepish look in response. "Oh, no, it hasn't arrived yet," I admit, feeling a twinge of guilt.

Ginny's eyes widened with concern. "But what if all the good dresses are gone by the time you go to look for one?" She gasps, pulling to a stop.

I take a deep breath, mustering a reassuring smile. "Ginny, there are countless dresses out there. I'm sure I'll be able to find something suitable," I assure her, trying to ease her worries.

She persists, her voice filled with urgency. "But you are a key part of the Golden Trio, Hermione. You have to make a stunning impression!"

Gently placing my hand on her shoulder, I interrupt her anxious rambling. "Ginny, breathe," I say, taking an exaggerated breath myself. "Remember how late I got my Yule Ball gown? I've already made arrangements to go dress shopping tomorrow after school. I even have permission to head to London, and who knows, maybe I'll make a detour to France," I say, widening my eyes mischievously.

"You simply have to–" Ginny starts again, but I cut her off with a laugh.

"I appreciate your concern, Ginny, but I'll be just fine. Thank you," I reply gratefully. "Now, I must hurry off to my flying lessons. I'll see you at dinner," I say, giving her a friendly wave before continuing on my way.

"See you," Ginny waves back, her excitement undimmed.

As I make my way toward our designated spot, I catch sight of Draco waiting for me. With a playful glint in his eyes, he calls out, "well, well, Granger, how audacious of you to be late to your own flying lesson."

"Sorry, I got caught up. Gown talk," I remark with a roll of my eyes as I fall in step with him.

"Gown?" He asks, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Yeah, I haven't picked out a dress for the ball yet," I reply in an uncaring tone.

Draco shrugs nonchalantly. "Well, there's only a week to go. Astoria's had her dress sorted since the week McGonagall announced it. She even got me a matching tie," he explains, his gaze fixed ahead.

Gritting my teeth, I can almost sense the weight of his robe in my bag. "Oh right. Viktor asked for the color of my dress. Maybe I'll just get him a matching tie," I comment, setting my bag down and rummaging through it to find my boots. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Draco setting up the course for our flying lesson.

As soon as his robe rests on the transfigured chair and his back is turned to it, I silently Accio the robe to myself and quickly stuff it into my bag. I pull out the fresh robe from my bag, shake it out, and lay back on the chair, laying my own next to it.

The pit of anxiety in my stomach eases as thoughts of the robe carrying his scent are safely nested in my bag. The remainder of our flying lessons proceeds smoothly with no talk of the upcoming ball or our respective dates. Once lessons end, Draco packs his robe into his back, and together we make our way back to the castle.

We decided to meet in the library after dinner to continue to go over the remaining books. We only have a few left and keep working on the timeline that Draco and I came up with. I

Once I'm in the privacy of my room, I pull the robe from my bag and bring the collar up to my nose, inhaling deeply. Relief washes over me as the familiar and intoxicating scent fills my senses. At least I'll be able to soothe my omega now. Carefully, I lay out the robe in my nest. Then the realization hits me hard.

Draco

I walk into the Common Room, a smile lighting up my face as I see Astoria sitting at the table. "Hey Dove," I greet her, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Did you have a good day?" I ask, my hand gently rubbing the back of her neck.

"It was nice," she replies, looking up at me. "Do you have to go to the library tonight?"

"Yeah, but let me drop off things in my room first, and then I'll come sit with you," I say, leaning in for another quick peck.

"Sounds good," she says, offering me a faint smile before returning her attention to her parchment. I acknowledge Pansy and Daphne with a nod, sensing their watchful eyes on me.

I make my way to my room, feeling a heaviness in my steps. As I unpack my backpack, I reach for my robe to hang it up, only to freeze in place as if I've been hit by a Petrificus Totalus spell. A potent, intoxicating scent of amber fills the air, causing a quiet gasp to escape my lips as I bring the robe up to my nose. It smells overwhelmingly of Granger. How did this happen?

I inhale deeply, pressing the robe to my nose, and let out a low moan, my voice muffled by the fabric. The scent is overwhelming, much stronger than the lingering fragrance on the shirt and trousers. It captures her pure essence, the same intoxicating aroma that I remember when I scented her. This can't be the same robe I wore in class all day. There's no doubt in my mind that she had a hand in this.

My knees wobble slightly, a mix of anticipation and nervousness flooding through me. How am I supposed to go to the library and spend time with her? The scent envelops me, clouding my thoughts and stirring up a potent desire within me. Another deep breath only intensifies my alpha's longing for her. Do I ask her?

I can't.

Shaking my head, I lay out the robe over my pillows and leave my room, my head clouded with thoughts of her scent and the different ways my alpha wants to take her.

Sitting beside Astoria, I find it challenging to focus on her chatter about the upcoming ball and her planned appointments in Hogsmeade. My mind is preoccupied with trying to make sense of why my robe is saturated with Hermione's scent. She did put her robe next to mine.

"Drake? Are you even listening?" Astoria's voice breaks through my thoughts, and I meet her gaze.

"I'm sorry, what did you say? I've got a lot on my mind," I admit, offering her an apologetic smile.

"Has your tuxedo arrived yet?" She asks, her blue eyes betraying a hint of annoyance.

"Yes, my mother sent it after you wrote to her," I confirm, mustering a small smile in an attempt to alleviate her irritation.

She nods and begins packing her books into her bag. "Shall we head down to dinner?"

"Mhm," I reply, rising from my seat and extending my hand toward her.

Dinner goes by both quickly and tediously. I keep stealing glances toward Granger's spot, and she seems to be going about her usual routine. After dinner, Astoria and I make our way back to the Slytherin Common Room, hand in hand. I bid her goodnight with a tender kiss before making my way up to my room, eager to grab my bag and head to the library.

As I approach our table, I take a moment to observe the scene. She is completely absorbed in one of the books, her hand swiftly scribbling on the parchment with a sense of eagerness. Her hair was neatly tied up with a ribbon, allowing only a few tendrils to gracefully frame her face. And true to form, there are a couple of ink smudges adorning her face. Swot.

I approach the table, offering a soft greeting so as not to disturb her reading. I pull out my books and parchment, waiting for her to find a pause to give me her thoughts. However, to my surprise, she stops her reading and notes, eyes wide on me. "Malfoy! I've been waiting for you!"

A brow arches in amusement with a smirk finding its way onto my lips. "Oh? And to what do I owe that pleasure?" I hand her my damp handkerchief and point the spots out.

After shooting me a huffy glance and scrubbing the marks away, her eyes sparkled with thoughts. "So, I've finally reached the 1900s in diaries and texts last night," she exclaims, gesturing towards the stack beside her with an excited grin. "Today, I was able to get to the 1940s and they're already talking about the lack of presenting omegas in the year 1948 – only five years after Voldemort started to create his Horcruxes. Obviously, it can be entirely unrelated or a biological response in preparation for what was to come…" her brows furrow, and her nose scrunches.

Watching Hermione Granger run with a theory has undeniably become my favorite thing to see. The way her eyes glimmer with knowledge and that contagious grin of excitement… how can it not be my favorite?

"Are you suggesting He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named could have something to do with it?" I ask, leaning in closer to read through the scribbled notes. Looking at her stream of thought on paper only adds to my appreciation for her excitement.

"I mean, I'm not sure. That definitely can be a loaded claim, but I think it would be foolish to rule it out," she remarks, leaning back and crossing her arms, inadvertently accentuating her cleavage. I allow myself an eyeful before bringing my attention back to the parchment.

"Well, I just got to the early 1900s in the books I have. Let me catch up and we can dive deeper into brainstorming and expanding on this theory," I affirm, nodding while meeting her gaze with a smile.

"Might have to pay a visit to the restricted section," she whispers, leaning in closer to the table, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

"We might," I laugh, opening a book. "I'm going to start catching up."

She nods, leaning back and returning to the book she was engrossed in before I arrived.

We sit in comfortable silence, the gentle rustling of pages and the scratch of quills filling the air around us. We keep going on until I notice Hermione's tired eyes as they struggle to stay open.

"C'mon, Granger. Off to bed we go," I hum, letting my alpha seep into my tone, coaxing her gently.

Unexpectedly, a soft purr escapes her before she quickly straightens up, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Sorry, it's just…just something in my throat," she stammers, clearing her throat and avoiding eye contact.

I can feel my cheeks warm. Is she really so comfortable I'm–I used an alpha-heavy tone with her, of course, she's going to respond accordingly. "Need some water?" I ask, starting to open my backpack, not wanting to make her more uncomfortable.

"No, I'll have a cup of tea in the common room. Are you ready?" She asks politely, a forced smile on her lips.

"I am," I nod, slinging the pack onto my back.

We walk to Gryffindor Tower together, and she pauses in front of the corridor leading to the Fat Lady's portrait, her gaze meeting mine.

"Thanks for walking me back," she says, her voice tinged with the same gratitude as always. "If I'm taking too much of your time with this side project–"

"You're not," I interjected, wanting to assure her. "I wouldn't have offered it if I didn't have the time nor interest." The truth is, I enjoy being in her company, but I keep my feelings to myself, not wanting to complicate this situation further.

She offers me a bashful smile. "Alright, just keep me updated if anything comes up."

"I promise," I assure her. "I'll see you in class tomorrow."

"Good night, Draco," she whispers softly, starting down the corridor.

"Sleep well, Hermione," I reply, giving her a gentle wave before turning to make my way toward the Slytherin common room.