Once again, here he was. The damn library. And there she was.

He was sitting at his usual table by the window, where he had the perfect view of her tainted mudblood face. Right now, she was scribbling down notes, unaware that there was a certain someone watching her. She did unconsciously raise her hand and run it through her hair, almost as if she was fixing her appearance. But other than that, his presence went completely unnoticed.

He had decided long ago that whatever feelings she stirred up inside him would be smothered, whether forceful or not. He hated the fact that she was there, so close to him. He hated the fact that her blood was dirty. He hated the fact that he wanted her nevertheless. He hated the fact that they could never be. But, never, not once, did he hate her.

He called her names, yes. He teased her remarkably. He made fun of her friends. He made her and her stupid friends' lives horrible. But did anyone know it was a façade? Of course not. Why would they? Malfoys did not associate themselves with lowlifes such as mudbloods. But she was different. He was different.

He couldn't help but notice how her hair, always so thick and bushy and which never seemed to bother her, looked so soft and silky, though he knew he was just biased. How he'd like to touch it…

She licked her lips and looked up for barely a fraction of a second. He hurriedly grabbed a book off the table, and opened it. After a few moments, he cautiously looked up, and his eyes widened in surprise at her closeness. She was by his books, at his table. What was she doing here?

Her proximity was starting to unnerve him, so he scooted his chair back a fraction.

He couldn't stand looking at her this close, not without driving himself mad. She was so close, yet so so far away from him. He braved a question.

"What is it, Granger?" he sneered at her. "Need help? Well, that would be a first."

She didn't say anything but pulled a chair out from the table and sat down. Why was she sitting down by him? Didn't she know that she was driving him crazy already?!

Maybe she did. Maybe this was just a new form of torture they used in the League of Golden Trios these days.

"You've been watching me," she stated quietly.

Shit.

"Why would I watch someone like you? It couldn't possibly be because of your beauty or your luscious hair, now would it?" he mocked.

She was unfazed, however.

"Oh, shut it, Malfoy. If I didn't know better, I'd say you fancy me," she said, her tone amused.

Fancy? That was just skimming his feelings for her.

"Fancy you? A pureblood fancy a mudblood like you? Don't flatter yourself, Granger," he scoffed.

"Hmm, then I wonder…," she didn't elaborate.

He couldn't help it.

"Wonder what?" he blurted out.

Then, as if to cover his mistake, he said, "Wonder if Scarhead's ever going to grow a brain, or if Weasel's ever going to be rich?"

"No, you dolt," she said. "I wonder how you'd react if you knew you were touching a mudblood."

"What do you mean 'touching a mudblood'? Why would I ever lay a hand on such filth?" he asked her. When had she gotten so close?

She raised her hand, and incidentally, he felt his own rise as well.

Oh, stupid Malfoy. Should've gotten away while you still had the chance…

He was holding her hand. Why was he holding her hand?! Fate was cruel, too cruel.

Then again, maybe not. She hadn't seemed to object, after all. He looked at their hands, and he wondered. His thoughts went on overdrive. One night. That was all he asked. One night, and he would forget about her. His father would never know and she would never be in danger. Just one night.

Then reality sunk in, and he crashed back down. Who was he kidding? One night. God, he sounded like he'd lost a lover. Or a needy, hapless romantic sod. He never sounded needy. He closed his eyes, but didn't let go of her hand. He wanted her, which was one thing he couldn't deny.

He really shouldn't be afraid, especially of his father. Damn it! Why did his father have to ruin every aspect of his already fucked up life?

_____________________________________________________________________________________

He was awfully quite. She wondered if he was okay. He seemed to be struggling with something. Now, bring him back to earth quietly or in a completely obnoxious manner?

She quickly chose the latter, small revenge for small times when he had annoyed her.

"Malfoy, you didn't die on me, did you?"

He didn't answer immediately. To her surprise, rather than letting go, he tightened his hold on her hand. What was he doing? She looked up at him, and was surprised to see his face so close to hers.

"You want to know how I'd react if I touched a mudblood?" he asked.

At first she was lost. Then her question came back to her, and she wondered if he had been thinking about that so intently.

"Retch your hand back in disgust, throw a few insults and leave?" she suggested. Had she truly never noticed how full and inviting his lips were?

Wait.

She was thinking about Malfoy. And his lips.

She forced her eyes upwards and back to the topic at hand. What was it again? Oh, yes. How Draco Malfoy would react if he touched a mudblood. For example, herself.

Once again, he surprised her and let out a small laugh. It was if the tables had turned and now he was the one in control of the situation. He jerked her hand slightly, motioning for her to stand up. She did, and he guided her until she was standing right in front of him. He had turned, chair and all, so that the table now faced his backside. He jerked her towards him again, and this time, she gasped slightly as she fell into his lap.

Oh. Well, this was awkward.

She was sitting in Malfoy's lap.

And she was in no way bothered by it.

This realization bothered her much more than the actual action.

She stared into his eyes and she saw amusement flicker there at her obvious embarrassment. He leaned forward until there noses were almost touching.

"Is that really what you think?" he asked.

His voice. He had a nice voice. It wasn't too deep but it didn't sound girly at all. At that moment in time, she decided she had gone insane.

"I- uh, yes…?" she hated how it came out sounding like a question.

"And what if I prove you wrong?" he asked her. "What if I…?" he trailed off, staring at her.

Perhaps they had both indeed gone crazy, she decided. There was no way that he, out of all people, would be acting as if he wanted to- to kiss her!

Her thoughts were coming back, gradually.

She shook her head.

"You'd never do something like that. You'd ruin your reputation." And my sanity.

She wasn't actually thinking about ki- kissing the jerk, was she? Yes, she was definitely crazy. She absentmindedly wondered if it was too late to check into St. Mungo's psycho ward.

Now that she had convinced herself that she was not in the right frame of mind, kissing him did not seem at all like a bad idea.

"And what if I didn't care?" he questioned her. "Would you be scared, then?"

Would she? If they did…kiss…If Harry or Ron ever found out… What would she do? They wouldn't, her mind told her. Not unless she told them first. Which she wouldn't because that would admit that she was crazy out loud.

Mind made up, she leaned in close to his ear.

"Not at all," she whispered. She kissed his jaw. She heard him gasp quietly in surprise. "I'm in Gryffindor, remember? We're supposed to be brave." She pulled back, and looked at him.

"The question is, are you?"

His expression was still amused, but she saw something behind it all, something she couldn't place.

His hand had left hers, and had tangled itself in her hair, gently pulling her towards him once more.

"You wouldn't, perhaps, be calling me a coward now, would you?" he asked.

"Maybe…" she breathed.

He was so close, she could see every separate eyelash. She realized her eyes were slowly closing and he was still coming closer.

Why was he-?

She had thought she had been doing pretty good for the while, thinking clearly and whatnot. But as his lips descended upon hers, all thought had been hexed into oblivion. There was no way on earth that he, the bane of her existence, should have been able to kiss like that.

They broke apart, both their breaths raggedy.

"Does that prove my point, Granger?" he asked. He laid his forehead against hers, marveling in the beauty of her eyes.

He really didn't remember what his 'point' was. Something about insulting her, maybe?

It was as if something inside of her had snapped. He watched in mild amusement as she stared at him in shock and then tried to get off of him. He didn't let her, keeping his arms around her to hold her in place. After a couple of tries of trying to shove him off, she stopped. That surprised him. He was fully expecting her to yell at him, maybe slap him a little? Guess she liked the kiss as much as he did.

"Malfoy, you- you-, "she seemed unable to form a coherent sentence.

He smirked.

"Come now, Granger. I now I'm good. Finishing the sentence today will not diminish that fact," he said, shaking his head slightly.

"You kissed me!" she blurted out.

"Really? Because some would say you kissed me," he replied.

"No! I- Of course not! Why would…," she trailed off before grinning widely. "But that means I was right. You do fancy me!"

Really? Was that all she was able to come up with?

"Honestly, Granger. Your intellect continues to astound me," he drawled.

She frowned. "You mean…"

Now he rolled his eyes.

"Honestly, woman. Piece it together. You are sitting in my lap. We just kissed. I do not randomly pull girls into my lap and kiss them. No matter how appealing that sounds," he added.

She slapped him on the shoulder.

"I think that –"

"You think too much. We'll have to find a remedy for that later."

He leaned in and kissed her again. Once more, all thought was pushed pack in her brain, and she was unable to think, except for everything that was him. Her hands gently grabbed his face and brought him closer, and she couldn't help but think that she could get used to this every day.

After what could have been minutes, hours even, they broke apart. Both were rendered speechless, and he just pulled her closer and buried his face in her hair.

It smelled nice. And it was soft, too.

She shook him from his reverie as she asked a question.

"Later?"

He looked at her pointedly.

"Well, of course. You honestly did not think I was going to give you up like that, did you?"

She stared at him in disbelief.

"I am a Malfoy. A pureblood. You are not. Malfoy plus mudblood equals bad things happening to Malfoy and mudblood. But then you add a Draco in front of the Malfoy and then you get me. I am in Slytherin. I live to break rules, especially ones that are quite…interesting. Malfoys cannot be with Muggle-borns. You happen to not only be a muggle-born, but also one that I fancy. Therefore, you and I are going to be, in the most casual sense, couples," he finished. Well, that had been fun.

Now her disbelief had turned to horror.

"You can't possibly mean to tell people that you have suddenly decided to take it upon yourself to fancy me! Oh, that would just be horrible," she muttered.

"Thanks for your concern," he said sarcastically. "As if my house would be too keen on knowing that Lucius Malfoy's son was with a …mu- muggle-born." He shook his head, "No, it will be better to keep this all quiet."

At the word 'quiet', he saw her head whip around as if a thought had suddenly struck her.

Suddenly, she was at him again, trying to push herself off of him. Again, he stopped her.

"Malfoy, in case you haven't noticed, we're in the library!" she hissed at him. "Now let me go!"

He didn't listen to her, but cocked his head in curiosity.

"What's so special about a library?" He realized his mistake as soon as he had said it.

She started at him incredulously, as if he had grown an extra head. He looked both sides. Nope. No extra heads. So she thought him crazy, then.

Oh, she had now idea how right she was.

"Special? About a library? Malfoy, you're insane! It's a library!"

"Yes, I got that part. So what?"

"It's a LIBRARY."

"Yes, Granger, we've already established that," he said slowly, as if speaking to a young child. "Now what's so special about this place that you feel the need to move from a, what I'm sure, is a very comfortable seat?"

She glared at him, and then sighed dejectedly.

"It's just so…sacred, you know? All the books, from before the beginning of time 'till today, all in this room. It's like a shrine," she whispered theatrically.

He rolled his eyes.

"Only you would compare a library to a shrine," he said. "Now back to the subject at hand…"

"Weren't you listening? We can't do this "she waved her hands around her, "in a library!"

"You didn't seem to keen to complain a minute ago," he smirked.

"Yes, well, I wasn't in the right state of mind, Malfoy-"

"Draco."

"Yes, of course. Anyway, wait- what?" She seemed almost childlike in her confusion.

"Call me Draco," he repeated. "Granger."

She snorted. "I call you by your first name, and you call me by my surname? What? Hermione to hard for you to say?"

"No, it's just –" I've liked you for so long but I've always had to hate you, so it's easier for me to call you Granger?

He sighed. "Fine…Hermione."

The name felt foreign on his tongue, but that would fade…with time. So much for the 'one night' wish.

"…Draco…. I wonder…would you kiss a mudblood three times?" she asked, her eyes lit in the most wondrous way.

He smirked.

"Wouldn't you like to know…"

"So much," she breathed.

He was about to kiss her again when they heard footsteps.

Madam Pince. The library was closed for the night and she was headed towards them.

Oh, damn.

She quickly pushed herself off of him, and this time he let her. He stood up and quickly shoved his books in his bag and went to go help her put hers in.

The pair quickly left. Maybe Pince hadn't seen them. Maybe –

"Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger!"

So much for luck.

They both froze as Pince caught up to them.

"I understand that inter-house unity is important to this school. But next time, there will be no lap-sitting in the library, understood? The library is a sacred place, not some fun house! Now, shoo, there's a library to close." Pince ushered them out, and the doors closed behind them.

He snickered.

"Lap-sitting," he sniggered. "The library is a sacred place!" he mimicked. He glanced at her and laughed. "Didn't know you and Pince had so much in common."

"Oh, shut it," she said, not unkindly, and began going back the way to the Gryffindor common room.

His own was the other way so he stopped her before she had turned the corner, before she was completely gone.

"Meet me out by the lake on Saturday," he said.

She shook her head. "Can't. I'm going to Hogsmeade with Harry and Ron."

Of course, Potter and Weasley always managed to come in his way.

"How about I owl you?" she asked.

"Owl me?!" he asked as if she were out of her mind. "I'm in most of your classes! Why would you owl me?"

"Because, you and I hate each other, remember? We can't just walk up to each other one day and be all chummy with each other."

She was right, of course. After all she was Gra-Hermione.

"But I wonder…"

"Wonder what?"

"I wonder how you'd react if you were seen talking to a mudblood?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

Needless to say, both Granger and Malfoy did not get back to their respective dormitories for another good twenty minutes. Mrs. Norris seemed to have been lurking around in the darkened hallway.