Disclaimer: I wish they were mine. Alas. Also, the bit of poem belongs to Emily Dickinson. Double alas.

A/N: For jimmy-loves-hermione, the only one who reviewed a certain fic. Thanks and sorry if this isn't to your liking. If you want, I can try again.

Draco Malfoy is always surprising me and he always has been. I know he likes it, being able to shock Hermione Granger the supposedly biggest know-it-all ever, he's told me. I'll always smile and say I'm not a know-it-all and return to my book or breakfast or kissing him. Secretly, I like it when he surprises me too.

It was July and strangely warm when Draco gave me the biggest surprise of all. He finally told the truth, he had been an undercover agent. I was pleased with this, because it's awful enough having your two closest friends always quarreling with your clandestine boyfriend, but having him supposedly fighting on the opposite side of a war as you? Torture, worse then the Cruciatus Curse.

I was ecstatic and just ran up and kissed him, ignoring the fact that his face was scratchy with stubble and half of the people in the room had wands raised. Around that time Ron gave an extremely unmanly scream and fainted. Chaos pursued and before you know it I'm the only thing in-between Draco's neck and Harry's wand. Draco was kind of clutching me to his chest and I was crying because I was so happy Draco was back and I was worried Ron had seriously hurt himself and the glint in Harry's eyes was positively terrifying.

"Explain," Harry said, voice low and cold.

I felt Draco's grip tighten a bit, "Kindly put down your wand P-Harry and I'll be more than happy to."

Harry didn't listen, but only glared and Draco, who glared back. Soon they were in some kind of stare down and everyone in the room had gone silent, even Ron who was staring dazedly from the chair Bill had helped him into. I was still, literally, in the middle of it all and at some point, Draco's hands had slipped down to my waist.

Then, for some reason, I noticed the absence of his familiar cologne. It didn't occur to me that Draco couldn't very well walk into a store and ask for a bottle of Old Spice. He smelled of leather and heat. Fresh leather, the scent sharp, comforting. It was the same from that meeting three years ago, both fresh and faded in my memory, like something from a dream of long ago.

A few days after the Yule Ball and I was hiding from Viktor in the Owlery. He was a nice boy and listened to me, but with him always just looking at me all the time was a distraction. Viktor was always just popping up where ever I went; so much it was bordering the 'stalking' line. Draco had found me, sitting on a blanket, a bubble charm in use to keep owl droppings off my books and I. I didn't even look up at him when he entered.

"Granger," He said and I noticed a bit of impatience in his voice, "Honestly Granger come on."

I ignored him, a skill I had been honing to perfection since first year. "Please, look at me," Draco said, his tone softer which surprised me, but not enough to face him, "Hermione, please."

That did it for me, I looked up and saw him, just staring, but it was not creepy or stalker-like. Just a type of stare that you give a friend when you just are notice what they look like, your mind ignoring the back round hum of people talking, or in our case, owls hooting. "What do you want, Malfoy?" My voice sounded harsh in comparison to the soft way he had talked to me.

Before I knew what was happening, Draco was kissing me. My head began to spin. Time seemed to fly by. How long had we been kissing? Seconds? Minutes? Days? Whatever it was it seemed to end all to soon. Draco was staring at me now, his usually pale face tinted pink. I must have forgotten how to breathe through my nose while he had kissed me, because I was panting like a marathon runner.

Draco began to talking, "If you were coming in fall, I'd brush the summer by, With half a smile and half a spurn, As housewives do a fly…"

He opened his mouth to continue, but I interrupted him, "You're quoting Emily Dickinson, she was an American," And as an afterthought, "She was also a Muggle."

His cheeks turned pinker, "Eh, surprise?"

A sharp intake of breath, the smell of leather, probably from his boots, hit my nose. It was accompanied by the scent, sensation really, of heat. It was January and yet, he seemed to carry the aroma of hot summer days that were of some tropical place, perhaps Brazil or the Carribean.

"Very surprised," I heard myself murmur.

He was only one step and a few inches away. I moved closer aiming to close the gape between our mouths-

"Hermione!"

Harry, who was staring at me intently, pulled me from my memories. I gave him what must have been a dazed look, "I'm sorry, what?"

Making an annoyed voice he repeated himself, "Were you going out with Malfoy behind our backs?"

Oh dear, I always hoped it would never come to this, what with Ron's temper. I took a deep breath, and then looking straight at Harry replied, "Not were, we still are together," I looked up at Draco, "Aren't we?"

"Of course," Draco said, then hesitantly added, "If you're still interested."

I grinned, "As always."

The room had gone dead silent. You could have heard a pin drop, but instead we all heard Ron drop with a thud. The poor boy had passed out again; I'm beginning to think he should get some help for that. Harry seemed to have lost his ability to do anything but splutter incoherently. Ginny however smiled and said, "Took you two long enough."

"You," Harry said in a strangled type of way, "Knew…about…this!"

Ginny winked, "We weren't the only ones who found use of the Quidditch Pitch."

Harry turned red and felt my cheeks grow warm. Ginny let out a laugh and Draco joined her. Just like that, he seemed to be accepted. The air was less tense anyway. Everyone began to make an effort to get Ron to the couch and to check him over. Draco released me, but kept one arm loosely around my waist.

He grinned down at me and I grinned back and tugged on his hand. The Weasley's had a lovely spot in their garden where no gnomes wandered about. And it was much cleaner than the Owlery…