A/N: This story is a kind of late birthday gift for a friend, though she maybe is only going to find out what part of her inspired me in the very last chapter. The story is completely written and beta'ed, and there are three chapters in total.

Endless thanks to my unbelievable beta niffizzle who already made this worth writing by commenting so brilliantly on it. All mitakes are my own.

No profit is made with this writing, and I own nothing.

When Hermione Granger entered the library of Hogwarts, she had a perfectly well constructed plan. She always had a plan, but rarely she was as excited to execute it as she was now.

Finally, the Board of Governors had given the Ministry permission to send someone to work on a thorough review of the book - Hogwarts: A History. But they only wanted one person to scoop the ancient books and rolls of parchment threatening to dissolve into dust when not handled with care. And Hermione was oh so delighted when the Minister himself knocked on her office door two weeks ago and asked her to deviate from her usual tasks in the Department of Mysteries to go on this special mission.

She had hugged him with a squeal that was far more girlish than she'd like to admit.

And now, after two weeks of deliberate plotting and planning and being excited and after a round of slightly whisky laced tea with Minerva, she was finally here.

Ignoring the whispers and stares from the awed students, she practically bounced towards the shelf she knew she would find the book to begin with.

She breathed in the wonderful scent of ink and leather and paper and parchment, her fingers dancing along the spines (not touching them, of course), knowing she was close to her goal, just a bit more, and yes, there it was. She stretched her hand out-

"You can't have that book."

Startled, she looked at the person who wanted to stop her with that drawl. She had apparently been to immersed in her mission that she had remained oblivious to another person in the aisle.

Huh. Him?

"I need it," she retaliated, staring at him.

While he didn't even look at her. His blond frings falling into his face, he was focused on another book he held in his left hand while the other remained frozen in mid-air with Hermione's.

"Well, wait until I am finished with it, then. Your homework has to wait," he said, obviously not paying attention to her.

"Hogwarts must have changed a lot when students need 'Fight and Force - a compendium of the Dark Ages' for their homework." Something in her words or voice must have stirred him from his thoughts, for he drew a sharp breath and looked at her.

"Granger?" It was more a question than a greeting.

"Hello, Draco," she greeted politely enough. She couldn't remember if she ever called him by his first name, but they were adults now and anything else would have felt juvenile to her.

"What in Salazar's name are you doing here?"

There was no malice in his voice, just honest surprise, so she answered politely. "I am rewriting Hogwarts: A History."

"Why am I not surprised?" He smirked, and with this typical move, Hermione felt transported back several years.

"Well, someone had to do it. And I was their prime choice." Yes, maybe she laced her voice with a bit of arrogance then. "So I can't imagine you needing this book more than I do." She stretched out her hands for the book.

But Draco pulled it away from her, behind his back and out of reach. "And I can. I am the DADA professor, after all."

Her professional politeness evaporated in a split second. "But I want to start with this one."

"I am afraid you have to be a good girl and wait until I am finished reading up what I need." He turned and set to leave.

Hermione growled at the phrase 'good girl'. She hadn't been a girl in ages and wouldn't tolerate being treated like one. Even though, there had been this one night when Charlie had called her 'good girl', but that had been in an entirely different context…

"Malfoy, give me that book. My plan is-"

"To come back tomorrow to it? Perfect." And with that, he vanished through the endless rows of bookshelves.

Hermione had the impulse to stomp and curse violently. But, of course, she didn't. This was still a library, after all.

The weeks after Hermione's arrival at the school, she managed to… circumvent another encounter with Draco. Okay, so maybe she avoided him like the plague. And it was surprisingly easy.

She got two quiet hours of research in before breakfast, having gotten Madame Pince's special permission to enter the sacred halls before the librarian was up.

After a quick breakfast at the staff table where she sat next to Neville, she used the time when the professors were teaching to dive further into the history of Hogwarts.

There was the occasional student on a free period, but they mostly stared at her; the bold ones shyly asked for an autograph on the Golden Trio chocolate frog card. One Ravenclaw wanted her advice on a History of Magic essay which she gladly gave.

In the afternoons, Hermione retreated to her rooms to write, often forgetting dinner over it and only leaving her quarters for a final round in the library shortly before it closed for the night.

Her research was going splendidly and soon, she had made so much progress that she allowed herself to work on another piece of writing which was more her personal pet project than anything else.

The only thing she saw of Draco during that time was his stupidly handsome smirk over meals and sometimes a flash of blond in a corridor or behind a row of books. It was heavenly.

Until she saw him committing a sin.

In the library.

For everyone to see.

Okay, not everyone since it was a Hogsmeade weekend with sunny weather and only a few students had found it in them to study. Plus, they were in the Restricted Section so the chance of young, studious minds observing this heinous act should be close to nil.

That didn't stop Hermione to close the book over the first Goblin War and the Headmaster of Hogwarts' notes over it and march right over to him.

"Malfoy!" she hissed at him despite being practically alone with him. "Stop doing that!"

He ignored her command but at least looked at her.

"What?" He didn't even try and hide the object of her consternation under the desk like maybe Harry or Ron would do.

"That!" She pointed at the half-finished, dripping thing in his hand.

"You are eating an apple in the library! Do you have any idea what your sticky fingers are doing to the parchment? And don't even get me started on the acid in the juice! It is detrimental-"

Hermione couldn't continue her rant because all of a sudden, there was an apple lodged in her mouth.

Malfoy's apple. Which he had simply shoved into her mouth.

And apart of being outraged and a bit disgusted at his gesture, the apple was perfect. Sweet and crunchy and fresh and… everything one shouldn't enjoy in the library.

She took a bit and removed the fruit from her mouth, and he used the time she needed to chew and swallow to say, "Dear Granger, since we are apparently back to last names, do you really think they have built this library without an automatic Impervious charm on everything remotely readable?"

She didn't know. And his shit-eating grin and twinkling grey eyes reflected on that it was probably showing on her face that Hermione Granger, who had spent more hours than Harry and Ron together in the library and was rewriting the schools chronic, DIDN'T KNOW such essential information.

"But," she struggled for an answer.

"But of course it isn't in the official library rules. Do you want to hear munching and chewing and slurping whenever you enter the library and try to study and learn?"

Stupidly, she shook her head.

"See, Hermione?" He smiled, this time openly teasing her. "I know one thing or the other about this castle you don't."

Then, he stood and leaned over the table he had been sitting at. Suddenly, he was so close to her. For a second, Hermione wondered when Malfoy, no, Draco's presence had become so...engaging. But then he plucked the apple from her hand. In doing so, his fingers brushed against hers. And to Hermione's utmost surprise, he was warm, so warm.

Wasn't Draco Malfoy supposed to be cold and clammy?

But his warmth and his twinkling eyes and his smile made him appear so, so human.

Knowing she would whack herself over the head for the lateness of her reaction later, Hermione just stood there and let him take his apple from her hand.

Seconds later, he collected his parchments, returned his book to the shelf, and winked at her. "Have a nice day with your historical sources, Hermione. If you should become fed up with them, you could…" at this point, he looked at his feet, "you know, you could always join some of the staff at the Three Broomsticks later on. We always meet there at Hogsmeade Saturdays."

"I need to finish this research," she replied, embarrassed at her lame answer.

He chuckled. "Come on, Hermione. Even you need some company sometimes. The Goblin Wars will still be here tomorrow to bore everyone but you to death.

And suddenly, he was gone. Leaving her alone in a very quiet library. She cherished the silence, always had. Just her and the books and the steady turning of papers.

But maybe Draco was right? Maybe some company would do her good. And it's not as if she and him would be alone in the Three Broomsticks.

Just one more paragraph…

One paragraph turned into twenty or two-hundred, and that was why Hermione arrived at the pub when the sun had already set. She rushed in, afraid that the others were gone already, only to be met with a dozen professors in varying degrees of drunkenness crammed around one large table.

"Hermione!" Neville yelled louder than necessary, causing the rest of the full pub to turn their heads.

A tipsy hug and sloppy kiss to the cheek later, Neville maneuvered her into the nook between him and Draco. Which was a weird experience in itself because it meant that previously, Draco and Neville had sat next to each other.

They were truly living in changed times.

And since Neville was the cuddly type of drunk, he slung an arm around her shoulders while talking animatedly. The sudden closeness to a man, even one she had absolutely no romantic interest in, brought a blush to her face.

"Longbottom, you mountain troll! You are suffocating the witch!" Draco boistered from her right side. He must also have had a few because his usually so pale complexion bore an interesting shade of red.

"You are just jealous!" Neville countered, shoving a Firewhisky into Hermione's hand and giving her a conspirative wink while doing so.

"Am not!"

"You are! Especially since I am snake killer and have all these muscles!" By now, Neville was outright laughing.

"And no brain to use them."

Maybe it was due to the sounds of the pub around them, but Draco did sound a bit jealous. Enough so that she inquired, "You got me very curious. What brought this Sexiest Wizard Alive debate up?"

Draco groaned, burying his face in his hands. The gesture made him appear so young, so normal. "And here we go."

"I am so glad you asked, sweetest Hermione," Neville explained, exaggerating, and lifting his arm from her shoulders so he could use both arms to gesticulate.

"Our very own redeemed bad boy here," at that, he placed another whisky in front of the blond next to her, "stumbled into a situation of very delicate character. In fact, it was a group of girls, sixth and seventh year, who held a discussion of vast interest."

Had Hermione known Neville spoke so pompously, she would've laced his tea with alcohol before his oral Potions exam.

"Don't you say," she played along.

"Indeed. They were talking about the most attractive professor currently at Hogwarts. And poor, ugly Malfoy here just came in second."

"At least I can brew a potion correctly!" Draco defended himself, still remaining a bit miffed but good-natured.

Alright, Hermione had to admit, Neville had grown up very nicely and now was pretty attractive. But for her, he was the first friend she had made in the Wizarding World and not some sex idol.

"You can, but only when these muscled arms and gentle looking hands grow the ingredients for it!" Neville continued taunting Draco.

"I can never unhear these words coming from Peppermint Clearwater's mouth!" Draco groaned. "Though, you shouldn't let these teenage crushes get to your head, Longbottom. Their taste hopefully changes when they grow up. What really counts is the fact that I am, undoubtedly, much more attractive for the adult witches than you." He threw his blond fringes back in an exaggerated movement, then looked at her. "Hermione here will agree with me, right?"

Being suddenly the focus of two very grey, very deep eyes made Hermione's brain stutter a bit. But only for a second.

"Well, since I have seen Neville here naked and you not, I can't really answer that truthfully, can I?"

While Neville next to her broke out in a laughing fit, Draco gulped visibly, made a 'wait a second' gesture with his index finger towards her, and took a large gulp of his whiskey.

"As much as I want to hear the story how you have seen Neville in his birthday suit, I suddenly have the impulse to provide you with a live performance of the uncensored version of Draco Malfoy stark naked immediately."

Hermione's brain shut down. What should she reply on this?

"But this train of thought also tells me that I had one too many and should go back home to the castle, clearing my head up on the way." Apparently, Draco had decided to leave, but before he could get up entirely, he leaned towards her, his breath brushing against her neck.

"Though, sweet Hermione, one day, I am going to provide you with that visual. And you will love it and you will beg to take a sample of it. The chances are astronomical I am going to let you."

Her pulse raced, the sound of it rushing through her ears. She was thankful that it was so dark because otherwise, she was pretty sure the entire pub would have seen her blush.

He didn't wait for an answer to his offer. Instead, he left the Three Broomstick with a purposeful stride that was quite admirable in his tipsy state.

Taking in the group of people around her, Hermione was glad no one was looking at her. Not even Neville, who was occupied throwing winks at Hannah Abbott behind the bar. She took some deep, steady breaths to calm herself down.

Yes, Draco Malfoy was hot. Annoying as hell and snobbish, but so damn handsome. His wit had always been a quality of him, but now he could use it more smartly and more purposefully, she guessed. He definitely knew which buttons to push with Hermione, deliberately flirting with her or not.

Annoyed at herself, she pushed away all thoughts of him. She was at Hogwarts to work, not to develop an impulse to grab one of the professors and pull them in her bed, for Circe's sake! Really, her project was so very important, she should really focus on it, and that's what she swore to herself.