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That night Draco lay on his back on the common room couch, gazing down at the beautiful girl that was sleeping soundly on his chest. He rubbed her back gently in small circles as he listened to her shallow breathing. This girl, this wonderful, gorgeous, intelligent girl had more sides to her personality than an eight sided die. Each time he thought he had figured her out she would go and reveal another side of herself to him, and she never ceased to amaze him. Was it true? Had she really turned him soft? He wondered. Draco refused to admit that he had lost his edge, but whenever he was with her he was gentle, afraid that if he was too rough with her she might break. He had caused her enough pain from all the mean things he said in the past and he saw no reason to cause her any more. He stopped rubbing her back and let his hand come to a rest at the small of her back. As soon as he stopped she began to stir.

The slow, steady movement of Draco stroking her spine had coaxed her into a very tempting dreamland. Even in her deep sleep Hermione felt his hand stop, and reluctantly she pried her eyes open. She looked up and met Draco’s clear blue eyes. She smiled up at him before snuggling back down into his warm chest. She listened to his steady heart beat and felt his chest rise and fall as he breathed deeply. She was getting ready to drift back into her heavenly sleep when she heard Draco speak to her.

“Hermione we should go to sleep, it’s the middle of the night.” He said quietly.

“I am sleeping, can’t you see?” she murmured into his shoulder.

“You know what I mean. We should go to sleep in our own beds. I have a long practice tomorrow and you’re a couch hog.” He said teasingly.

“No I’m not.” She said stubbornly. “And besides, I sleep better when I’m close to you.”

“Really Hermione, we need to go…”

“Ugh fine.” She interrupted. She pushed herself off of Draco and hauled her tired body up from the couch, dragging Draco by the arm as she made her way up to her room.

“What are we doing?” he asked allowing himself to be pulled up the stairs.

“Going to bed, since you seemed so eager to get off that couch.” She answered. She pushed the door open and crawled under her bed covers. She moved over, making room for Draco who got in after her. She wrapped her arms around him and burrowed herself deep between him and the fluffy pillows. Draco pushed a few stray strands of hair from her face and kissed her on the forehead.

“G’night Love.” He whispered closing his eyes, but Hermione was already asleep.


Hermione woke up early for a Sunday. She looked down at Draco’s arm that had found its way around her waist during the night and smiled. She carefully untangled herself from his hold and tiptoed into the bathroom. Unfortunately, she had been cursed with terrible morning breath so she quickly brushed her teeth and slipped back into her room. Lowering herself to her knees, she leaned in so her face was only a few millimeters from his. “He must be sleeping well, usually he wakes up when someone gets too close.” She thought. She lightly pressed her lips to his, enjoying the tingling sensation she got each time they kissed. She was going to back away when she felt him kiss back. She giggled inwardly as he reached an arm around her neck deepening the kiss. He pulled away and smirked.

“I could get used to waking up like that every morning.” He said stretching his arms up then resting them behind his head. Hermione rolled herself on top of him and looked down at his still sleepy face.

“You know,” she said running her fingers through his messy hair. “There’s a Hogsmade trip today, and we could go… if you wanted to. Maybe go and check out the new dance shop that just opened up? Rebecca said it’s really nice.”

“Hermione, I can’t. I have Quidditch, remember? I’m sorry, how about next weekend?”

“Oh,” She said trying not to let her disappointment show. “Yeah, umm…sure next weekend. I was going to go see if the library had a new book I wanted anyways, so it’s fine.” She faked a smile. Ok, so maybe the part about the book wasn’t exactly true, and she wasn’t feeling all that ‘fine’, but she didn’t want to let him know that. “Hermione, your getting too attached already. It’s not like you can spend every waking minute with the bloke, he needs his space.” She told herself. Climbing off the bed for the second time she grabbed a change of clothes from her wardrobe and went back into the bathroom for a nice, long, hot shower. She let the hot jets of water beat down on her head and shoulders, trying to figure out what she was going to do all day. She popped the top on her shampoo bottle and vanilla honey jasmine smells filled the room, relaxing Hermione. “I guess I should work on that essay Professor Bins gave us,” she thought. “Or, maybe Rebecca would let me use the studio today.” She rinsed the foamy suds out of her hair and turned off the water taps. Using the quick-dry spell, she was dry in an instant and she dressed in her slim fitting blue jeans and grey boat neck sweater. Her hair was behaving for once in its life, and so she just left it down. Make up was unnecessary for Hermione, so her face was left free. She walked back into her room, but Draco had gone, to practice she figured. Slipping on some shoes she grabbed her dance bag and left for the Great Hall. She was hoping to catch Rebecca before she left breakfast. Fortunately for her, Rebecca was leaving just as Hermione arrived at the entrance.

“Ah, Hermione. What can I do for you today?” Rebecca asked politely.

“Um, I was actually wondering if it would be alright if I used the dance studio this afternoon if no one else is using it.”

“Oh course, you don’t even need to ask. Its all yours.” She said warmly.

“Thanks Rebecca. “ Hermione said as she turned and made her way down the corridor towards the studio. Once she got there however, she just stood in the doorway, staring at the empty room. The sunlight was pouring in from the large glass windows, and it cast a beautiful silhouette of her on the opposite wall. She looked out the great windows and could see Quidditch players the size of ants zooming around the pitch. She sighed and dropped her bag on the floor. She opened the bag and pulled out a muggle CD that her parents had brought her back from their last trip to France. It was songs by Francis Cabrel, a French musician that she had grown fond of. She didn’t speak French but the language was romantic even in the gloomiest songs. Putting the music on she listened to the lyrics, letting them carry her across the dance floor. Hermione didn’t care about the steps or the style of dancing. She didn’t care that she was not dressed for dance, or that her shoes were all wrong. She just danced, letting her feet carry her. The song played its sad melody as Hermione waltzed alone.

A hundred feet in the air, Draco watched a small figure in the studio below. He watched her as she turned and turned, then gliding as if she was weightless back and forth across room.

“Oy! Malfoy stop daydreaming and come back to earth!” One of his fellow Slytherins yelled. “Damn it Malfoy we have a match next week!” he swung his Beater’s bat at an approaching bludger, and aimed for Draco. The bludger grazed his left shoulder, guaranteeing that he would have a large bruise tomorrow.

“What in Merlin’s name was that for Brant?” Draco said rubbing his arm.

“We’re supposed to be practicing but all you’re doing is sitting there on your arse watching that filthy mudblood Granger dance. Now get back in here and find the bloody snitch!” he screamed before whizzing past Draco.

“Hermione?” he whispered to himself. He looked down again at the girl he had seen earlier. She was leaning against the wall, arms folded across her chest, staring out into space. “Maybe I should go see if she’s alright…” he thought.

“MALFOY!!!” The team was yelling for him now. “Or maybe I’ll just see her later.” He decided and flew back to the center of the pitch. The Quidditch captain, Lloyd Brant, was in the middle of a lecture.

“… So as I was saying before Malfoy decided to take a break from admiring mudbloods, we have a match against Gryffindor next Saturday so I want you all working 210% this week in practice. Well, that’s all for today. Go shower, you lot smell fouler than a band of muggles.”

Draco made a quick decent to the ground, but instead of the locker room he headed for the common room. He hurried up the stairs to the bathroom and went inside. The room still held a faint aroma of Hermione’s shampoo from earlier that morning, and Draco had to look twice to see if she was in there with him because the smell reminded him so strongly of her. He showered quickly, and dressed in khaki pants and a black sweater. Draco crossed the hall and looked into Hermione’s room, but she wasn’t there. Nor was she in the common room. He imagined she must still be in the dance studio, so walking as briskly as he could without running, he went to the dance studio. Draco couldn’t describe why it was that he needed to see her so badly, but he just knew he had to. Perhaps it was Brant's comment about her bloodline earlier. He reached the studio door and stepped in. She was playing a song that his mother used to play all the time. It was a sad song, a song about wishing for death. He doubted that she knew that’s what the singer was singing because he was pretty sure she didn’t speak French.

She was standing in the center of the room, humming the tune of the music. Draco walked up behind her and wrapped his arms protectively around her. She didn’t even turn her head to see who it was, she knew it was him. “Je L’aime a Mourir. That’s a very sad song.” He said in her ear.

“Mmm. You know it?”

“Yes. It was my mother’s favorite song. Je L’aime a Mourir, I want to die.” He said, hugging her tighter. “Dance with me.” She turned around and brought her arms up around his neck, and his arms found their way securely around her waist. They moved slowly to the music, almost not dancing at all, but only swaying. Draco brought his lips down to her neck, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses along her jawbone and behind her ear. Hermione’s heart skipped a beat, and she pulled back slightly so that she could have better access to his lips. She pulled him in for a kiss. He kissed back furiously, caressing her mouth with his warm tongue. Hermione sighed against his mouth.

“Draco…” she tried to get his attention. “Draco.” She tried again. He pulled away, looking irritated.

“What?”

“If you’re trying to get fresh with me, you’re going to need to wait until we get to the common room.”

Draco smirked and picked Hermione up off the ground and putting her over his shoulder. “Draco! Put me down right now! I mean it!” Hermione yelled trying her best to sound serious. But despite her best efforts, she couldn’t stop from laughing. “I can walk you know.” She said.

“Yes, I know that Love, but your too slow, and we will get there faster this way.

“If you were that desperate for a snog, Malfoy, you could have just said so.” She joked.

“Oh ha-ha, very funny Granger. You just wait till we get back, you’re gonna pay for that little comment of yours.”

“Draco!! Put me down!!” She yelled lightly pounding her fists on his back trying get him to put her down, but without hurting him. He just laughed.

“Put her down now Malfoy or you will regret it.” Someone said.

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