TTB: In the Library

Author's Note: I have this file of drabbles that I did ages ago and never put up here so I'm doing it now. Here we go.

Summary: Hermione and Draco. In the library. Because Harry and Ron need some shocks.

Disclaimer: Not mine. I wouldn't make Draco lose his hair.

Hermione looked up from organizing the old, patched parchments, a small, secret smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Draco continued sorting his pile, his face blank. She shifted her chair closer to his, her smile growing just a bit, her tawny eyes glimmering with a rare, impish expression. He let out a sigh and set another torn parchment aside. She cast a quick glance around and slid her hand under the table, poking his side with a single finger. His jaw flexed but he said nothing, his eyes cast down onto the tabletop piled with scrolls and tomes and the like. She edged a little closer and tugged the side of his soft silvery grey shirt. He sighed again, this time putting a sort of long suffering tone into it, and slowly looked over.

"What do you want, Granger?" he asked with a bored expression. She shrugged. He quirked a single eyebrow, something she envied but could never copy, and returned to his sorting, laying a thick tome aside and topping it with two rickety looking scrolls. She renewed her fading smile, amusement shining in her eyes, and prodded his foot with her own.

"If you scuff my Italian leather shoe, we are going to have words," he spoke calmly, not even looking up. Her lower lip stuck out slightly in a faint pout, something she never used to do but found remarkably amusing these days. He made a face but still did not look over. She huffed in annoyance and quickly passed her eyes over the library to make sure it was empty and then got out of her seat, stepping behind his chair to wrap her arms around his shoulders. She couldn't see his face but she had a sneaking suspicion that he was smiling. Her hands slipped down his chest and stomach, feeling his muscles tensing under her touch, and then she grinned and attacked his ribs, tickling him mercilessly.

The Slytherin prince shrieked in an entirely undignified manner, compounding it by almost tumbling from his chair, and lunged to his feet, spinning around to retaliate, his fingers reaching for the back of her neck with a sure touch. She squealed and hopped back, laughing, her hair flying up with the jerky movement. As their eyes met, he returned her affectionate grin but that didn't stop him from moving one hand to her stomach. Giggling, another new occurrence, she pounced him, her fingers roaming his sides in a way she knew would drive him nuts and caught him off-guard. In an effort to squirm away, he fell back, tripping over the leg of his own chair, and thudded to the floor, bringing her with him. Their limbs entangled as she gleefully continued to tickle him and his eyes beamed amusement and feigned annoyance up at her.

Neither heard the footsteps approaching them.

"HERMIONE, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" came a familiar, indignant voice.

She looked up for a second, regarding Harry seriously then lowered her eyes down to meet Draco's. "I don't know. What am I doing?" she drawled thoughtfully.

"Hermione?" Ron wailed in disbelief, his face matching his sweater, a Mrs. Weasley Christmas original.

"I suppose I'm doing this," she kissed Draco's forehead, "or this," his chin, "or this," cheek, "or even this," and she bent down again and engaged his mouth in a heated kiss, her half-lidded eyes smiling as his arms wrapped around her, complimenting the fervent touch of his lips.

THUNK. THUNK.

She pulled away just a bit and eyed Harry and Ron lying on the ground in a dead faint. "Oops."