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June
“Malfoy.” she says civilly as she passes him on her way to breakfast.
He nods in return. “Granger.”
She’s seen him plenty of times since they returned to Hogwarts to help rebuild it over the summer. He seems quieter, more reserved. Then again, Harry isn’t present for him to taunt and tease, but somehow she figures that isn’t the reason the once dramatic and outspoken boy rarely says a word these days.
Everyone arrived just days ago, and though Hermione was initially shocked to see Draco, Blaise, Theo, Crabbe and Goyle standing amongst other Slytherins with the rest of the crowd, she’s grown used to his presence around the castle rather quickly. He leaves her alone and she is just fine with that.
“This isn’t going to be a problem, is it?” she asks briskly as she clears a spot on the dusty floor, big enough for the both of them, which she knows she doesn’t need to do, but she’s doing it anyway.
Draco shakes his head. “I don’t see why it would be.”
Hermione nods and decides not to tell him she could think of plenty of reasons why there might be a problem between them. She pulls a heap of books towards her and picks up the first one, inspecting the spine and the pages themselves.
The hours slip by and they continue to work in silence. Every so often she stands up to stretch her legs or crack her back and Draco follows suit a few seconds later. They comment on the conditions of some of the books as they shift through the mountains of books around them.
Draco loves books, she learns that very first day. He frowns and his brows furrow when he comes across a book too severely damaged to be saved, even by magic. “The pages are completely ruined.” he comments, showing the book to her.
She purses her lips and shakes her head before tapping her wand against the cover of a heavy book she’d just picked up. “I’ve found quite a few like that.”
When the sun is starting to set and an orange glow has overtaken the library, Hermione sighs and sets the book in her hands in the pile with the other books to be disposed of. They’ve already cleared a good foot or two around their space, but it was hardly a dent in the sea of books and dismantled shelves.
“I’m positively starving.” she says as she stands up and brushes off the dirt from her jeans.
He stands as well and checks his suit over. “Same time tomorrow morning?” he asks.
Hermione nods with a smile and heads out for the Great Hall.
The weeks drag by, painstakingly slow and their progress feels just the same. Between the typical summer heat creeping into the castle, making the afternoons feel like days, and the horrid state of the library, Hermione can hardly tell the difference between when they first arrived just three weeks ago and now.
She hands Draco a muffin, which he accepts and she sighs before taking a bite of hers. “We’re not getting anywhere.”
“Come on Granger,” he teases. “We must have sorted through hundreds of books by now.”
Hermione rolls her eyes and nudges him in the side with her elbow. She likes the friendship, if you could call it that, that formed between them these past few weeks. Of course the only time they speak is when they’re in the library, but she doesn’t mind really. They each have their own friends and the comfort of knowing they can work together, and work well.
“Maybe we should start getting rid of some of the shelving units?” she suggests. “We’ll fix the ones we can and clear a space for them, and we can deposit the others out in the hall. I’m sure another group of volunteers will be around to collect all the garbage soon.”
Draco nods, shoves the last bit of his muffin into his mouth and says, “Let’s get on with it then.”
He talks to her more now. Sometimes he’ll tell her stories about something stupid Blaise had done the other night or how Goyle once ate twenty pastries for dessert at dinner one evening. Eight to ten hours in the library with Draco, meant eight to ten hours of laughter, discussions about Goblin wars and famous wizards and witches, and easy flowing small talk about trivial matters.
The end of June falls upon them before she knows it and she’s escalated from solely talking to Draco in the library to meeting up with him and Blaise before breakfast. Blaise is the first of his friends to come around to her, and admittedly, she quite likes Blaise. He seems to look out for Draco, and he’s as quiet as he is witty and clever. She laughs at his sarcastic remarks under his breath and he listens to her ramble about Ancient Runes and her favorite periods of Wizarding history.
Before she knows it, Hermione finds herself spending majority of her days with the two Slytherins; whether it’s lying in the grass by the Black Lake or finding different parts of the castle to hide out in, away from the other students.
Hermione still loved Harry and Ron deeply, but she grew very fond of her friendship with Draco and Blaise.
July
The mid-summer brought intense humidity and heat, often leaving Hermione covered in a thin, slick layer of sweat and a frizz ball for hair. Draco often mocks her for it, and she gets him back by trying to hug him as tight as she can. And when their work is completed for the day, they practically race each other to the Black Lake, with Blaise and Theo trailing behind them.
When it is exactly that Theo slips into their friend group, she can’t say for sure. At first she’s a little wary of Theo; he’s Draco’s partner in crime. With Theo, she quickly realizes, she can debate almost any topic for hours. It’s quite entertaining on long afternoons inside the library or polishing frames and suits of armor.
The four of them spend Friday nights getting drunk on the Quidditch pitch, though most of the time Hermione insists the three of them need a chaperone and refuses to drink. They roll their eyes and carry on with their antics but she knows they appreciate it when she’s the one rubbing their backs when they’re bent over a toilet or sporting a nasty headache the next morning.
“Just take the mead, Granger.” Draco slurs at her, his own drink sloshing all over the stone floor of the Slytherin common room.
She rolls her eyes and takes the glass from him; she can’t resist his wide grin and pleading, glossy eyes. He’s positively hammered, and if she’s honest with herself, she wants to be too. She’s spent weeks sorting through dusty, old books and removing rubble strewn all over the castle. Her muscles ache and her bones crack these days; she deserves this.
The hours slip by and she doesn’t know when exactly the alcohol hits her--after her third glass of mead or maybe the fourth glass of champagne or a combination of the two--it’s most likely the latter, she decides as Draco grabs her hand and leads her to the boys’ dormitory.
She’s giggling and her cheeks are surely red as he shuts the door behind them and she barely has time to draw a breath before his lips are on hers; warm and tender yet rough and desperate, as if he’s been waiting for this to happen. And when his arms wrap around her waist and something in her stomach swoops, she realizes she’s been waiting for this too.
It’s the ring of Blaise’s voice that breaks them apart and sends them far away from the peaceful bliss they’d just discovered. “It’s about fucking time! Oi! Theo, they’re-”
Hermione tries not to double over in laughter as Draco tackles Blaise in the doorway, sending them both to the floor.
Being with Draco gives her a new found confidence and one she quite enjoys. She’s never really thought of herself as sexy or beautiful but with every kiss, every touch and every lingering look, made her feel like she was on top of the world. Like she adopted another form of magic. So she wasn’t oblivious to the frequent lingering stares from others (though his friends hadn’t once dared look at her for a second longer than what was normal) as she laid out by the lake in a two-piece or her shorts were particularly shorter than what she wore in her younger teenage years.
She doesn’t expect Draco to get as protective as he does, however. But every time he scowls at someone from across the grounds or grips his wand a bit too tightly in his pocket, she can’t help but laugh.
“You’ve got nothing to worry about, you know,” She tells him repeatedly, kissing his temple or intertwining their fingers.
“It’s not that I fear.” he always replies. “It’s creepy. The way they stare. And do they really think I couldn’t guess what they’re whispering about?”
“My noble prince.” she teases with a playful nudge to his ribs.
“Don’t you dare start calling me that.” he says with a laugh and an arm around her shoulders.
August
“Hermione?” he says just a few feet away from her. “What exactly is this?”
When she looks up from her new Transfiguration textbook, her grin almost reaches her eyes. She shuts the book and jumps up off the couch excitedly. “It’s a tea maker! Well, a muggle one. The quickest way to make tea.”
She’s somewhat taken back when he asks her to show him how to use it. And when some of the Slytherins complain about the new contraption, Draco is quick to shut them up. As the days slip by however, she finds her pre-term preparation interrupted by Slytherin students asking her to show them how to use her muggle tea maker.
“Draco?” she says and pokes him in the thigh with her foot. They’re sprawled across his bed, new textbooks strewn across the sheets.
“Hm?” he murmurs, not looking up from the Potions text.
“We still have a bit of shopping to do before term starts. Fancy going to Diagon Alley Friday?”
He pauses in his reading to look up at her, a smirk plastered on his pale features. “Are you asking me on a date, Granger?”
Hermione rolls her eyes and kicks him. “Shut up.”
It was true that they hadn’t been on actual date, but they had a castle to rebuild. A trip to Diagon Alley buying quills and dress robes and potions ingredients was definitely not her ideal ‘first date’. For now, the long afternoons in the library and the parties in his common room on weekends and late night wanderings about the castle are good enough for her.
Two weeks later she finds herself out by the Black Lake at midnight, laying on a blanket and looking at the stars with Draco. The late summer night is humid and thick. She’s thankful they’d come out to the lake; at least it gives off a nice cool breeze. Her head rests on his chest, the sound of his heart thumping in his chest mixing with the sound of her own. His fingers lightly caress her arm, every hair standing on edge from his touch.
“It isn’t much, I know,” he says with a swallow. “But considering our restrictions-”
“It’s perfect.” she assures him, draping her arm across his stomach.
And she means it. He somehow convinced every single Slytherin to either retreat to the dormitories or leave the common room entirely so they could enjoy a candlelight dinner (prepared by house-elves after Draco asked them politely) in front of the window looking out to the depths of the Black Lake. Following their dinner, they make a detour to their usual hiding spot (an almost completely destroyed classroom on the fifth floor) for a bit of snogging before proceeding out to the lake.
August slips by quickly, the days blending together. More often than not, Hermione wakes up to the sleeping form of Draco, his arm thrown across her waist. She sits with Draco and his friends for all three meals, spends hours studying in his dormitory and fixing up the castle. She attends every single party the Slytherins throw and spends the evenings lounging in the courtyard with the lot of them.
She lends her muggle novels to them, and instructs them to just leave it on Draco’s bed when they’ve finished. Pansy and Daphne enjoy painting her nails and sunbathing by the lake and exchange stories of their sexual escapades (though Hermione mainly listens as neither of the other girls care to hear about Draco’s arse or how good he is with his tongue).
It’s only days before the new term is about to begin when Hermione realizes majority of her friends are now Slytherins, and she doesn’t mind this one bit.
September
The start of term feels different than it does in years past, and Hermione can’t decide if it’s because there is no longer the threat or worry of a Dark Wizard overtaking their world, or if it’s because she has yet to step foot in Gryffindor Tower and sleep in her own bed. She tells herself it’s most likely a combination of the two, and she finds herself feeling extremely grateful that Harry and Ron had not returned to complete their studies.
The older Slytherins don’t mock her for her study schedules, which she readily creates as the first few weeks fly by and she faces her first exams of the term. Instead they join her at whichever table she’s set up at and help quiz her. The younger students ask for her help, and she happily obliges. One second year boy suggests she should make study groups and Hermione falls in love with the idea, and from then on, every Monday and Thursday evening, she spends a few hours tutoring the younger Slytherins.
Draco complains about this bit and tells her they’re taking away some of their time together but she rolls her eyes and hisses, “I literally sleep with you every night, Draco.”
“All I’m saying is why can’t the two of you go to her dormitory sometimes?” Blaise asks at breakfast, waving a bit of sausage on his fork. “Give us a break from the noise…”
Hermione slaps Draco’s chest and whispers, “I thought you always cast a silencing charm!” She can feel her cheeks growing red as Blaise avoids looking directly at her and shakes his head.
“Sometimes I forget.” Draco replies casually as he butters his toast.
She scowls and Theo howls with laughter, while Blaise continues to look disgruntled. She’s quite glad Pansy and Daphne aren’t here for this conversation.
“Not to mention, our dormitories are closer.” Draco states matter-of-factly. “There’s seven flights of stairs between us and her dormitories, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“Oh and here I thought you’d be willing to endure such a thing if meant shagging Granger.” Blaise retorts dryly.
Hermione is muffling her laughter, her cheeks growing all the redder and it takes her a moment before she manages to say, “It’s not him that’s not willing, Blaise.”
His breakfast is left half-eaten while Theo can barely breathe through his laughter.
The news of her relationship with Draco predictably spreads quickly around the castle as the weeks slip by. They don’t bother hiding it, but rather, Draco makes it a point to hold her hand in the corridors and walk to her to any class he can, before dashing off to his own. He sneers at any boy whose gaze lingers too long and holds her a bit closer to his side when they lounge in the courtyard or down by the lake. Ginny doesn’t believe her at first when Hermione tells her it’s true, and Luna simply says “That’s nice.”
No one, not even the Professor’s (if they knew that is) had any qualms with Hermione practically living in the Slytherin dorms. In fact, Hermione begins to notice on nights where she does Rounds that Hufflepuffs would be scurrying off with Ravenclaws to their tower before curfew, and on the mornings that she did wake up in Gryffindor tower, there were a few Slytherins or Hufflepuffs mulling around the common room.
On particular Wednesday evening, she catches sight of Pansy ready to leave the common room with her bag packed. “Where are you off to?” she asks casually while she turns on the tea pot.
“Ravenclaw tower.” Pansy replies with a quirk of her lips. “This girl and I have really been hitting it off…”
Hermione raises her tea cup and bids her a good night. When she curls up next to Draco and he sees the smile on her face, he mumbles, “What’re you grinning like that for?”
“Oh, nothing.” she says because this is a moment she wants to keep to herself.
The next morning, Hermione stirs next to a sleeping Draco and smiles to herself at the sight of him. His features are soft and relaxed when he’s asleep; there’s no smirk on his lips or crinkled lines in his forehead. His pale blonde strands are tousled and sticking up at odd angles and she can just make out the little tufts of hair sprouting on his bare chest. She gives him a quick peck on the forehead before sliding out of bed.
A glance out the window--enchanted to reflect the sky above them--told her the sun had barely risen. Blaise and Theo are still sound asleep and she suspects most of Slytherin house still is as well; she’d come to notice there weren’t many early risers on the weekends here. They were the perfect opportunities for a cup of tea and bit of leisurely reading.
Hermione makes her way out the common room, shuffling her feet and running her hands through her knotted hair. She yawns, opens the cabinet where the mugs are kept and retrieves her favorite one. While the water is boiling, she rummages for sugar and honey. The honey, she discovers, is on a top shelf just a bit out of her reach.
“Of course,” she mutters to herself. Looking down, she realizes she left the dormitory in nothing but Draco’s Quidditch jersey and her lace knickers, her wand clearly left behind.
With an irritated sigh, Hermione stands on her tip-toes and stretches her arm as high as she can over her head. She can feel the jersey riding up, exposing the bottoms of her black lace knickers and her bum. It’s only when she hears a snigger that she whips around, to see Crabbe and Goyle standing a few feet away from her, their eyes on her lower half.
“You two-” she begins, but the slamming of a door cuts her off.
“Oi! What do you two dunderheads think you’re doing?” Draco snaps at the two fellow Slytherins.
Crabbe and Goyle freeze, their eyes slightly widened with guilt and horror as Draco steps beside her and pulls her close. Hermione narrows her eyes at them as they stammer, trying to come up with an excuse. But they were both too smart for that, they knew exactly what Crabbe and Goyle had been trying to do.
“Try and sneak a peek again and I’ll hex you both into the next century.” she warns as Draco trails light kisses down the side of her neck, his eyes boring into his friends, daring them to let their gaze linger.
Goyle tugs on Crabbe’s sleeve and begs them to go before the two clamor for the door and high tail out of the common room. Draco rolls his eyes and turns her so she’s facing him. He kisses her forehead and brushes away the curls hanging loose around her face.
“I love when you threaten people.” he drawls, snaking both arms tighter around her waist. She laughs and nuzzles her head against his chest. Draco kisses the top of her head and pulls away from her before grabbing her hand. “Come on,” he says, pulling them back towards the dormitory.
“Why?” she asks, even though she knows full and well why he wants to go back to bed.
Draco cocks his head and smirks. “You know why, Granger.”
The second the door closes behind them, Draco casts a silencing charm and draws the curtains around his four poster bed. He leans over at her and when she moves to tug his jersey off, he stops her and whispers seductively, “Leave it on.”