Someone was humming.
Draco gritted his teeth, tightening his grip on his quill as he willed himself to concentrate on his bloody Potions essay. He supposed it was his own damn fault for waiting until the night before to write three scrolls worth on the Draught of Peace. But in his defense, more than anything, he hated sitting and reading. It made him fidgety, and it scarcely helped that someone didn’t have the courtesy to shut up in the library.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled as the humming quieted, dipping his quill in ink before starting again:
The characteristics of the Draught of Peace, when brewed correctly, include…
The humming started again, this time much faster-paced and brighter-tuned. Draco scowled, throwing his quill down and storming to the stacks in front of him. His hand reached for his wand, ready to cast a Silencio at the figure at the table, but then stopped, realizing exactly who was sitting mere paces in front of him. The great big owl’s nest that she called hair was unmistakable.
And he was wrong - this was something he hated more than sitting and reading.
“What the fuck, Granger?” he hissed at her, drawing his wand to her side.
She didn’t respond. She hummed staccatos, blissfully unaware of the fuming Slytherin directly behind her. It threw him off slightly - he could always count on the Golden Trio to have a reaction to anything he said. In fact, he relished it. But this…
“What, are Mudbloods deaf as well as dirty now too?” he said, a little louder this time.
Draco prodded her with his wand for good measure and the girl jumped. Something black and round slipped out of her ear and fell onto her lap. It didn’t escape his notice, and he narrowed his eyes as she hurriedly stuffed the object into the pocket of her robe.
“What do you want, Malfoy?” she snapped. Her cheeks were tinged with pink.
“I want you to shut the fuck up . This is a library, not your own private concert,” he retorted, but his eyes were trained on her pocket. “What do you have there, Granger?”
“Mind your own business.”
“Terrifying.” Before she had time to react, he pointed his wand at her pocket and muttered, “ Accio .”
She let out a yelp of surprise as a long and thin object slipped past her fingers and into Draco’s open hand. She was out of her chair in an instant, attempting to grab it from him. He was too quick for her though, and he backed away while holding it high out of her reach. In the last year, he had put on at least six inches over her and Merlin, was it satisfying. Draco smirked down at her triumphantly.
“Malfoy, give it back!”
“Not a chance, Granger.”
He dodged each of her attempts to reach for the object, taking time between each little step to examine the object. It was unfamiliar to him: long, bendy, thin, one side ending in something rather cylindrical and metallic, the other side branching into two with spheres at each end.
“What the hell is this?”
She paused, sinking down from her tiptoes to her heels. The slump on her shoulders indicated she had conceded to him.
“They’re earbuds.”
Draco frowned at her. “Excuse me?”
“It’s a Muggle device for listening to music,” she mumbled, so quietly that he almost missed it. Almost.
Draco gave the wretched thing in his hand a look of disgust before flinging it to the ground at Granger’s feet. Her head snapped to his, her mouth set in a hard line.
“You’re telling me you brought this filthy Muggle thing into the castle?” he said with a sneer, wiping his hand on the side of his robe. “As if you couldn’t get any lower, Granger. Just wait until-”
“Until what?” she interrupted, shooting him a defiant look. “Until you tell Madam Pince that I smuggled a Muggle object into Hogwarts, knowing full well I’d get into trouble for it? Until you tell Umbridge, even? Go ahead, Malfoy.”
She had squared her shoulders, her brown eyes ablaze as she stared him straight in the face. She was daring him, and if anything it made his sneer harden. For years, Draco had tried to get Potter and his little minions expelled. Here was an opportunity presented on a silver platter - after all, bringing Muggle objects to Hogwarts was a serious offense. One that wouldn’t go unpunished, even for the Gryffindor Princess.
But she was expecting him to do it, to essentially rat on her like some sort of toddler. It wouldn’t be satisfying in the least.
No, knowing Granger and the Death Trap Twins, he’d have plenty more opportunities to expel them before they took their O.W.L.s in June.
“I’m not a snitch, Granger,” he said, rolling his eyes. He felt a strange satisfaction seeing her incredulous expression. “This time. But the next time you decide to partake in that god-awful sound you call singing, I won’t be so generous.”
She let out a derisive snort, plucking her vile Muggle listening device off the floor.
“How very kind of you.”
Then, without looking back at him, Granger turned and took her seat again. He saw her mutter a quick Scourgify before slipping the spherical part back into her ear.
***
Draco had managed to snag a table directly beside a great big window overlooking the lake, at the back corner of the library no less. It was his favourite spot to do his schoolwork, particularly when December came around like this. He flicked his eyes briefly out onto the Hogwarts grounds. Despite it being only six o’clock, the sky was a dark greyish-blue. Small flakes floated past the window and frost lightly dusted the grass.
It was a pity that he was holed up in the castle trying to complete his assignments. He relished being outside in the snow and the cold. With a small frown, Draco bent his head down to start his History of Magic reading.
He was only two pages in before he heard it again. The bloody humming - faint, but irritatingly there like the buzzing of a damn fly in his ear.
Draco slammed the book shut and pushed up from his chair, scanning the library for the source of the humming. He determined it was coming from somewhere behind him and, sure enough, Granger sat five tables behind him at another window. Her back was to him but he sure as hell could never mistake that atrocity of hair for anyone else.
He strode purposefully over to her, pausing a few centimeters at the side of her chair to see if he could catch a glimpse of her stupid Muggle device. But the telltale black cord was nowhere to be found.
Draco narrowed his eyes. If she didn’t have it on her, surely she would have noticed his presence by now. Surely she would realize how annoyingly loud her humming was, at least. Granger always had a stick up her arse when it came to the “sanctity” of the library, so it was really quite hypocritical and infuriating how she wasn’t upholding her own values. He concentrated, really concentrated, on her figure and something shimmered above the Gryffindor crest on her robe.
He smirked. So she had glamoured it. Clever, but not enough. Not for him.
“ Revelio .”
The long black cord shimmered into focus and Draco leaned forward, yanking the spherical part out of Granger’s ear. She let out a surprised yelp and inadvertently shoved him back a few steps. His smirk broadened, seeing the look of indignation on her face.
“You seem to have forgotten what the terms of our agreement were, Granger,” he drawled, lazily swinging the cord back and forth. “Can’t blame me for the impending expulsion now, can y-?”
He stopped short, eyeing the item in his hand warily. He had heard faint lyrical noises emitting from the spherical end as it swung close to his ear. So she wasn’t lying - you could listen to music with this thing. But how? It wasn’t magical in the slightest, he could feel it. Where was its source?
“... didn’t even make an agreement in the first place,” Granger was huffing at him. She narrowed her eyes at him, her hands finding the sides of her hips. “What on earth are you doing?”
Draco glanced at her, his lips curling. “What is this?”
She rolled her eyes. “Guess I’m not the only one who doesn’t pay attention. I already told you it’s a device for listening to music.”
“I heard you the first time,” he snapped. “I mean how does this bloody thing work?”
He tried to keep his face impassive as she bore her eyes into his. In reality, his skin was prickling rather uncomfortably at the intensity of her gaze, as if he was a particularly hard Arithmancy problem that she was trying to solve.
“You connect it to a… another Muggle device,” she said carefully, her eyes never leaving his. He glared at her in response, but she continued: “The electrical energy is carried from the long cord into the… buds. A small magnet inside converts it into sound.”
Now that… that sounded absolutely ridiculous.
Draco scoffed, scowling at the spherical “bud” emitting the music. “Muggles come up with the most stupid inventions, don’t they? Bloody useless without magic that they have to come up with ways to listen to music , out of all things. As if radios don’t exist-”
“But radios do exist amongst Muggles.”
To Draco’s horror, Granger looked amused at what he said. It was as if she was lecturing an ignorant child. And damn her, as if she needed yet another excuse to make him feel second-rate to her.
“Earbuds enable ‘useless Muggles’ to listen to music privately so as not to bother anyone around them,” she continued, raising her eyebrow at him. He wanted to hex the smug smile off her face. “Surely you can learn a little something from this device, don’t you think, Malfoy?”
“Piss off, Granger,” he growled. “If it was so fucking private, I wouldn’t be here right now, would I? Now shut up and let me study in peace. If I have to come over one more time after this, I swear to you that I will incinerate that bloody earpiece.”
Draco was officially finished with the conversation. With one last scathing look, he tossed the buds back at her and stalked back to his table.
He opened his history book with newfound vigor, forcing himself to concentrate on the words on the page. Merlin, he hated her. He hated that air of superiority about her, how self-important she thought herself to be when she knew more about Muggle contraptions than he did. Of course the Mudblood would be proud to know absolutely pointless information about Muggles.
He hated her.
He stared at the words Troll Rights on the page for another few minutes before letting out a frustrated sigh. Draco stood up from his table and made his way down the stacks until he found the section he was looking for: Muggle Inventions .
But he’d be damned if he let her best him in yet another subject.
***
It seemed that Draco was at the library far more than the Slytherin common room. The impending holiday break only seemed to spur his professors into assigning more work than even those as mentally capable as he could handle. He had heard from his father at least a couple thousand times that “fifth year is an important year, Draco” and that he should “do exceptionally well on all his O.W.L.s, Draco” so that he could qualify for “exceptional institutions of employment” .
Draco snorted at his Transfigurations essay. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what (or rather who ) his father was harboring at Malfoy Manor. If he was being completely honest, his O.W.L.s didn’t fucking matter anyway.
Not that his father would ever let him voluntarily fail a class though.
He buried the expectations in the back of his mind and turned his attention back to the third paragraph of his essay. He was struggling to explain a particular concept and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to tear the parchment into pieces. He could do the bloody spellwork in class, so why did it matter if he could put it into words anyway?
With a frustrated groan, Draco set his quill down and leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes and willing himself to focus. But when he opened them, all thoughts of focusing immediately dissipated. Granger was taking a seat two tables away, facing him - one of the only vacant tables, other than the one directly in front of him. She was determinedly not looking at him, and Draco almost rolled his eyes at her pathetic effort.
She still wasn’t looking at him when she not-so-discreetly slipped an earbud in and opened a book.
You’re making this too easy, Granger .
Draco strode over to her table, savoring the reddening of her neck. So she knew he was here. Good. He dragged a spare chair beside her and took a seat. Leaning back languidly, he interlaced his fingers behind his head as he stared at her.
“I guess that Gryffindor bravery is just plain stupidity at this point, isn’t it Granger? You really smuggled in not one but two Muggle devices. It’s like you’re begging to be expelled,” he drawled, a small smirk toying at the corners of his mouth. “Poor Potty and Weasel… who will help them pass their classes now?”
Draco rather expected the lack of verbal reaction, but he did notice her fingers twitch slightly.
“I’m curious though...”
Draco leaned forward slightly and she jolted away from him with pursed lips.
“The wards won’t allow in anything Muggle. They would have detected the frequencies and, at the very least, Filch would have caught you the minute you stepped off that train. So tell me Granger, how exactly did you bribe Filch to let you keep them on you?” His smirk broadened. “You don’t necessarily have… well, anything worth bribing with.”
The insinuation in his tone was evidently enough for the Gryffindor and her head whipped to his, a stray curl narrowly missing his nose. There was undiluted rage simmering in Granger’s eyes.
And then it quickly cooled to icy haughtiness.
“And how do you know about the different frequencies of Muggle devices?” she said loftily. Draco’s smirk flickered. “Been doing some light reading, haven’t you Malfoy?”
Granger turned her attention back to her book. She didn’t bother to wait for his response before adding serenely, “If you must know, I didn’t bribe anyone. All I did was charm the frequency. A decoy frequency, if you will, done right before the train arrived at Hogwarts. It was a bit tricky trying to reach the unique frequency of magical vibrations, but I managed.”
She flicked her eyes in his direction. “Anything else?”
Draco set his jaw and sent her the dirtiest look he could muster. Granger flipped the page, a look of satisfaction settling infuriatingly over her features. Apparently she thought that he was finished. That she had won, again , as the Potter pals always did.
“Figures that the so-called ‘Brightest Witch of Our Age’ has nothing better to do than to waste magic on something as worthless as Muggle inventions,” he said, his voice bitter and stiff and had all the edge of someone who wouldn’t give in. “Do you want a bloody medal, Granger? Do you want McGonagall to praise you and pat your head like some sort of lap dog? You think you’re so fucking clever, but what purpose do your stupid Muggle earbuds serve here?”
Granger didn’t even look at him.
“Everyone needs something - anything - to take off the pressure of this year,” she said almost wearily. There was more implication laced in her words, one that didn’t escape Draco’s notice. “Perhaps it would do you some good to find something like that too, Malfoy.”
At that, she twisted so that she was facing completely opposite of him and Draco scowled at the back of her head.
Stupid. What do you know about pressure?
***
Roughly a week before holiday break began, Draco was drowning. He had never struggled to catch up with schoolwork before in the five years he had been at Hogwarts. On top of his duties for Umbridge as a member of the Inquisitorial Squad, he was beginning to wonder if he’d even be able to make it to O.W.Ls.
He had foregone dinner with his fellow Slytherins in favor of finishing some assignments at the library. As Draco strode through the stacks towards the tables by the windows, he noted that the only people here were a handful of older Ravenclaws. Merlin, when did he become as dull as the bloody Ravenclaws?
When he made it to the windows, he immediately halted and let out an exasperated sigh.
Of course she’d be here.
Granger was scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment at the middle table, her brows furrowed and her chestnut locks pulled back in a low ponytail. She was deep in concentration and - Draco squinted past the glamour - had her precious earbuds in.
He studied her for a moment, noticing the dark circles slowly beginning to form rings beneath her eyes and the pale tinge to her skin. Though he felt some sort of gratification, it swiftly melted away. He already knew that if he looked in the mirror, he would look no better.
“No new insults for me today, Malfoy?”
Evidently, she wasn’t as concentrated as he had thought.
“You look like a bloody troll, Granger,” he retorted with a scowl, but it didn’t escape either of their notice that it lacked bite. “Your earbuds don’t seem to be working then. What a shame.”
Her mouth twitched. “Oh no, they certainly are. I’d look worse if I didn’t have them with me.”
“As if that’s actually possible-”
But Draco stopped short, watching as she disrupted the glamour of one of her earbuds. She had plucked it out of her ear and held it up to him. It felt as though she had offered him a particularly volatile Blast-Ended Skrewt.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m making you a five-course meal. What does it look like I’m doing, Malfoy?” Granger rolled her eyes, holding the cursed item higher up at him. “Go on. I promise I didn’t curse it.”
“I’m not putting something that touched you in my-”
“Oh honestly! Scourgify .” She tapped the earbud with her wand and raised her eyebrows up at him. “Surely you’re at least a little curious to see how this works.”
Deep down, Draco was a little curious. As it was with Potions or any sort of spellwork, reading about something only got you so far. Practical application was, for him at least, always the best way to learn.
Before he could change his mind, Draco took the seat beside her and snatched the earbud from her hand. He refused to look at her as he slipped the spherical part into his right ear as he had seen her do multiple times before. He refused to acknowledge the little grin on her face as she awaited his reaction.
Truthfully, Draco almost yanked it right back out. The bloody things were rather tight and uncomfortable. But the music…
It was as if a silencing charm and amplifying charm were cast simultaneously. The earbud had blocked out the rustle of books and parchment within the library. He was pretty sure that if Granger tried to speak to him, he wouldn’t hear half of it. But what he could hear was a woman’s croon, lyrics of Christmas heartbreak filling his head.
Even though Granger’s taste in music was questionable at best, he couldn’t exactly say that he didn’t understand why she had these damn things in all the time. The hush, save for the music, was calming. Soothing, even.
Granger’s voice sounded quite faint as she spoke: “Well? Is it as awful as you thought it would be?”
“Worse,” he responded. “Honestly Granger, your taste in music is almost as terrible as your taste in friends. Change the bloody song, yeah?”
He pretended not to hear her laugh.
***
Draco found the Gryffindor girl at the same table the next day. He paused behind a bookstack, contemplating. Surely yesterday was a fluke. In no other circumstance would he have found himself shoulder-to-shoulder with Hermione Granger, linked together with earbuds as if they were a happy little pair of Muggle friends.
He shuddered just thinking about it.
And yet Draco had been the most productive he had ever been this term - with her. Once she put on something she called “lo-fi” music, he had breezed through his Charms homework and even managed to start some readings for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Practically speaking, the merits of doing work with Granger and her earbuds outweighed the negatives. Besides, it wasn’t like Draco would be seen. He rather doubted his fellow Slytherins even knew where the library was.
Granger looked up at him as he approached her table.
“Malfoy,” she greeted him with a quirked brow. “Did you lose your way or something?”
The back of Draco’s neck felt rather warm. He should have anticipated that she would make him beg, the little sadist. Before his pride could get the better of him, before he could sneer out some sort of clever retort, she laughed and conjured up a chair beside her.
“Doesn’t feel great being antagonized all the time, does it?” she said lightly.
He scowled as he sat down. “Piss off, Granger.”
“You know, you really should be nicer to me if we’ll be sharing again,” she tutted at him.
“In your dreams.”
The word sharing played on repeat in his mind. She considered this interaction as sharing ? She was much too generous with her wording. Occupying the same general vicinity perhaps, but certainly no further than a mutual tolerance for each other and for Granger’s earbuds.
Draco watched as she removed the earbuds from the pocket of her robes and began uncoiling the tight spiral. He tried not to look intrigued as she slipped the metal cylindrical “jack,” as it was supposedly called, into her pocket. From his reading, he knew that the earbuds must attach to something. The source of the music had to come from somewhere.
“How do you play the music?” he asked before he could stop himself.
“Oh… well, this part is attached to something called an iPod. I can play and skip songs on it, make the volume louder or quieter, whatever I want.”
Granger looked rather uncomfortable as she slid something silver and rectangular out of her pocket. Sure enough, the cylindrical jack was inserted into a small opening at the top. There was a circular control beneath a black reflective window of some sort. She fiddled with one of the shapes emblazoned on the controls and the window illuminated white. Unfamiliar song titles and artists immediately flashed into his view. Draco flinched back slightly, away from the bright light.
“Sorry about that. Anyway, it’s a little faulty,” she admitted, sliding the iPod back into her pocket. “It’s far trickier to tamper with the frequency of an actual electronic device, but because this is an older prototype - discontinued, as a matter of fact - it works decently enough for studying purposes.”
In truth, Draco barely understood half of what she was saying, but it didn’t stop him from feeling impressed. Granger certainly knew her spellwork, no doubt about it, but he still couldn’t help but think that those talents were wasted. All this effort for a Muggle music-listening device...
“I know you’re judging me Malfoy, but I’d like to remind you that you’re benefiting from my music too.”
Perhaps it was because Draco noticed the insecurity seeping through her tone, the slight flush of her cheeks, the way she was avoiding his gaze. Perhaps it was because of the simple fact that she was right.
Perhaps it was all of the above that made him say, without any malice, “With what you’re capable of, I simply think it would be easier for you to just invent a spell for all of this. That’s all.”
The pink splotches on her cheeks darkened. A corner of Draco’s mouth lifted and he plucked one end of the buds from her hand to insert into his ear, hardly able to conceal his amusement.
“I- Thanks,” she mumbled before clearing her throat. “Anyway. I should probably get back to work.” Granger shot him a pointed look. “I’m choosing the songs.”
Draco groaned. “If I have to hear that Next Christmas bullshit all over again-”
“It’s Last Christmas , and it’s a Muggle classic during the holiday season,” she corrected him with a frown. “Besides, it’s not like you know any Muggle songs. You can’t possibly think you have an opinion here.”
“Thank you for reminding me once again that Muggle taste is shite,” he responded, but there was a mortifying lack of venom in his tone. He cleared his throat. “Can’t you put that lo-fi thing back on? It wasn’t distracting or obscene or-”
“Come on Malfoy, it’s the holiday season!” Granger tugged lightly at the cord connected to his earbud. “Where’s your Christmas spirit? Surely you’re not that boring and-”
“Fine. Fine ,” Draco snarled, giving in. Knowing Granger, she’d go on into the night if she didn’t get what she wanted. He might as well save them both time. “You can play your bloody Christmas songs, but if I hear any sort of reference to a breakup, I will personally feed your listening device to the giant squid.”
“Alright, no breakups.” A slow, devious smile spread across Granger’s lips. “But anything else is fair game, right?”
“Absolutely not.”
Draco ripped the earbud out, shooting Granger of pure disgust.
“What’s the matter, Malfoy?” she asked, shoulders shaking with laughter as she watched his reaction. “My American relatives rather love Santa Baby .”
“Oh that explains it,” he snapped. “As if it weren’t bad enough that Muggles like this bullshit, but of course they had to be American too. Of course Father fucking Christmas would give one of you lot a-”
“No need to be so crass,” she interrupted. She had stopped laughing, but her eyes still sparkled with mirth. “It’s just a fun little song about-”
“I can infer what the song is about Granger, and I don’t care. Change it.”
“Granger, what the fuck ?”
“It’s really not as bad as you’re making-”
“Change it.”
“Malfoy, if you just listened to the song-”
“I’m not listening to another song about yet another American who wants to shag the fucking Dumbledore of Christmas.”
“But the song is from the perspective of a young child! The mother was actually kissing the father, who was dressed as-”
“Now, why is it so unsurprising that you’re turning this into a bloody lecture?”
“Will you stop interrupting me!”
“Stop fucking with me and play something else!”
***
Over the next few days, Granger managed to curate an acceptable, and sometimes even decent, Christmas playlist. Of course, Draco would rather be kicked by a hippogriff again than admit it to her.
Her favorite Christmas song was Let it Snow by some bloke named Sinatra, based on the sheer number of times it was played and hummed during their library sessions. The lyrics were incredibly Gryffindor if he was being honest, preaching company and love and being amongst each other. It made him want to gag.
His personal favorite, even though he wouldn’t dare admit it even under Veritaserum, was White Christmas . Draco wasn’t quite sure how Granger figured out he had taken a liking to the song, but he noticed that by the third day it was being played at practically the same frequency as Let it Snow .
***
Two days before Christmas break, Granger had switched up her traditional playlist to a myriad of unfamiliar holiday songs. They were in a genre called “pop” and were apparently trending in the United States.
Halfway through their work session, Granger informed him that the song currently playing was called Baby It’s Cold Outside , and all Draco could think about was how Americans managed to sexualize everything, even their bloody Christmas songs. Though it was admittedly better than the other rubbish that Granger had played a few days ago, the sultry croons and lyrics still made him uncomfortable.
The song was far too intimate. Add to the fact that the earbuds amplified the voices, it was as if he was listening to a private conversation between two lovers who were minutes away from needing a room.
“My mother will start to worry
Beautiful, what's your hurry?”
Draco glanced discreetly at Granger, and he was surprised to see that she was blushing as she scrawled something onto her parchment. So she also knew how private this song felt. If anything, that made him even more uncomfortable.
He turned back to his reading, trying to tune out the song.
“The neighbors might think
Baby it’s bad out there”
And failing.
He shot another glance at the Gryffindor girl, feeling as though his skin were prickling.
“ I wish I knew how …”
If only he knew how to turn down the bloody volume.
“Your eyes are like starlight now
… to break this spell”
The blush on her cheeks had become a dusty rose against her skin tone. Draco’s gaze fell upon a stray curl freeing itself from behind her ear as she hunched down lower, as if she was hiding from him.
“I’ll take your hat, your hair looks swell ”
Granger’s hair was still a rat’s nest, but he had actually never noticed the coppery tinge to some of her locks. That was odd, considering he had seen that great big head of hers bob up and down as she bounced at the opportunity to answer every one of Snape’s questions during Potions for the last few years.
“ Mind if I move in closer?
At least I’m gonna say that I tried
What’s the sense of hurting my pride?”
Draco was duly aware that neither of them had brought up changing the song. At this point, too much time had passed for either of them to mention it. Asking now essentially meant that he would be admitting the song had some sort of effect on him.
It did of course, in the sense that it made him feel as though he were intruding on a couple’s privacy. However, knowing Granger’s nature, she would no doubt over-analyze the situation and think something else.
There was absolutely nothing else.
“My sister will be suspicious
Gosh your lips look delicious”
“Er, I think…” she trailed off, sounding rather awkward.
Granger worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Draco was transfixed by the small movement. He distinctly recalled the hex he had hit her with around this time last year, further lengthening her already-large front teeth, and grimaced internally. He couldn’t remember why he had done it, only that it was quite an immature thing to do in retrospect.
“My maiden aunt’s mind is vicious
Gosh your lips are delicious”
“That’s enough of this song, don’t you think? ” Granger said, her voice oddly breathy. She turned her head to look at him and inhaled sharply.
Draco didn’t realize he had leaned in quite a bit. Their noses were only a few centimetres apart, and Granger rather looked like a startled deer - big doe eyes and all. It was astonishing how, for years, he and his Slytherin friends likened her to a beaver or some sort of twitchy mouse when she was nothing of the sort.
“You’ve really been grand
I feel when I touch your hand
But don’t you see?”
Draco couldn’t say that it wasn’t out of his own volition that he tucked the lone curl behind her ear. His knuckles grazed her cheek, warm and a bright red, and he exhaled shakily.
“How can you do this thing to me?”
“Malfoy… what are you doing?”
“I-”
“There’s bound to be talk tomorrow”
Within an instant, the moment shattered. Draco swiftly withdrew his hand and recoiled, both furious and nauseated at himself. What the bloody hell was that?
“What did you do?” he snarled at her, tearing the earbud out and throwing it in her lap. His fingers burned where they had come into contact with her skin. He balled them into fists, willing the sensation to go away.
She flinched, hurt flashing across her face before hardening into her trademark Gryffindor defiance. “I didn’t do anything. You did that all by yourself.”
“I did all what exactly?” he said with a sneer, his eyes glinting like cold steel. “It wasn’t anything. It meant nothing .”
“I beg to differ-”
“I’m not finished!” he growled. “You have never been anything to me. Not in first year, not now, and if you think for one moment that things have changed between us, you’re delusional.”
“Well Malfoy, if they hadn’t, why are you still sitting here with me?” Granger shot back, bold and loud. Her glare was smouldering. Burning him alive. “Would you have kissed me?”
Kissed .
Draco felt as though she had backhanded him, except this winded him far more than it had in third year. He staggered out of his chair and almost collided with Madam Pince as she approached their table.
“What in the name of Merlin is going on here?” she squawked, barely side-stepping the Slytherin boy. Her narrowed eyes looked from him to Granger, who at least had the audacity to look guilty. “Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy, this is a library! Do keep it down. And if you must argue, kindly bring it outside.”
Madam Pince lingered on Draco. “Are you alright, Mr. Malfoy? You’re looking rather pale.”
“Fine,” he mumbled, unable to say much else. “Excuse me.”
Draco didn’t bother to collect his things. He brushed past her and walked briskly out of the library. He didn’t stop for anyone, not Pansy in the corridors, not Crabbe and Goyle by the Great Hall, not Theo and Blaise in the common room. He didn’t stop until he reached his dormitory, thankfully deserted, where he sank down against the doorframe.
Blood was pounding in his ears, in rhythm with Granger’s shrill voice repeating over and over again in his head: “ Would you have kissed me?”
How fucking dare she ask him that as if she had a right to? Five years and she still wasn’t aware of her place in this school. Her place in this world.
Draco dropped his head into his hands.
“Would you have kissed me?”
Yes, he would have - and that meant he didn’t know his place either.
***
Though the library was the last place in the world that Draco wanted to go to, he couldn’t exactly finish his work if he didn’t have it on him. He regretted his rash decision to leave without his belongings, and he only hoped Madam Pince had kept it somewhere. Once he retrieved them, he resolved to return to the Slytherin common room to complete the last of his assignments before break began the next day. It might be annoyingly loud, but at least it was free of Hermione Granger.
Draco strode into the library and straight to Madam Pince’s circulation desk. He caught sight of her vulture-like features scowling at something in front of her and loosened out a breath of relief. He had never been so glad to see the notoriously ill-tempered librarian.
She glanced up at him as he approached the desk. “Mr. Malfoy. Here for your things, I presume?”
“So you have it then?”
Madam Pince tilted her head, scowl rippling. Draco didn’t like the way she was studying him, as if she were trying to piece something together. Nevertheless, he held her gaze with cool indifference.
“Yes,” she answered finally. She flicked her wand and his belongings zoomed from beneath the circulation desk into a neat pile atop of it. “Miss Granger also left a message for you. She said to inform you that she has a prior commitment and will not be in the library today.”
Draco tensed. She really couldn’t just bugger off and leave things alone, could she? But sod it, this was better for him; it was the last day before holiday break and he wouldn’t have to even hear about her for another two weeks. Enough time for things to return back to normal.
His voice was hard as he replied, “Bold of her to assume I care.”
The librarian shrugged, donning an unfamiliar expression of nonchalance. “She is a Gryffindor, Mr. Malfoy. They tend to be quite straightforward.”
“Yeah, and what good has that done for them?” he retorted, to which Madam Pince had no remark for.
Draco gathered the stack of books, parchment, and quills into his bag before heading towards his usual table - thankfully free of the Gryffindor girl. There was no point in returning to the common room if Granger wasn’t here.
He took a seat by the window, trying to ignore the feeling that everything was just wrong . The lack of turning pages and scratching quills, the dull silence. The ample amount of space at the table. The fact that this wasn’t his usual seat to begin with.
The absence of chocolate curls ghosting his cheek every time a certain girl turned her head to look at him.
Merlin, had he actually allowed himself to grow comfortable in her presence? Draco gritted his teeth, willing himself to banish the thought. It didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t going to let it happen again. He pulled out the first book that he could reach out of his bag and an intricately-folded piece of parchment immediately fluttered out of the cover. Frowning, he plucked it off the ground and unwrapped it.
In his hand were a pair of earbuds attached to a very recognizable, silver device.
Draco’s pulse jumped in his throat, and his eyes fell upon the familiar, tidy scrawl written on the inside of the parchment.
I’m not sorry about yesterday. Merry Christmas, Draco.
H.G.
In spite of all previous thoughts, he chuckled. Reread. Noticed that she had used his given name. Broken.
Tracing the looping letters, he let out a resigned sigh. Gryffindors and their bloody nerve. She would come to regret this, he already knew it.
Perhaps so would he.
Draco unraveled the earbuds and inserted the jack into its appropriate slot on the iPod. Music began playing of its own accord, no doubt due to more of Granger’s spellwork. His lips twitched, hearing the opening notes to White Christmas , and went straight to work.