Study hard
If he read a single word more, Draco was going to explode.
It wasn’t like he needed the extra reading, or writing, or practical application. He’d read everything there was to read, written every stance imaginable, and wand waved until his arms nearly fell off. He needed a break. He deserved a break.
Shoving his chair away from the table, he made to stand up, but found himself impeded by two warm arms winding their way around his neck and a weight settling against his back.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
Granger.
Like him, she’d returned to Hogwarts for her 8th year to finish out her N.E.W.T.s, but unlike him, she’d chosen to do so of her own free will. He was given no such choice in the manner. Draco Malfoy was to graduate from Hogwarts on court order, and spend the next decade devoting himself to the Ministry in a field of his choosing. It was a favorable outcome, all things considered. He could have been like his father, sentenced to half a century in prison. He could have had his wand revoked, or his memories of the wizarding world wiped clean. He could have been forced into house arrest for the remainder of the school year as a remote student—this was actually his first preference.
Preferences were not an option. Draco found himself bundled up onto the Hogwarts Express with a mission to graduate with honors. No exceptions.
Then she happened.
Hermione Granger—know-it-all, rival, rebel with a cause, former prefect—sauntered into his train car, sat her sweet arse down in front of him, and demanded a fresh start. No more name calling, no guilt trips. Following through on her defense of him in front of the entire Wizengamot, she declared the two of them equal. How could he refuse?
They shook on it, and she settled in for the rest of the train ride with her nose buried in a book looking as natural as a cat in a box. Draco? He was the caged canary.
The weeks that followed were some of the most challenging and invigorating weeks of his life. Obviously, he received all the derision and disregard that he deserved from most of the student body. In exchange, he found himself in a nonstop race to the top of every class with Hermione Granger, their names trading places from exam to exam. On the rare instance when Theo or Boot usurped their reign, they’d take the top spots back with a vengeance.
This is actually what prompted them into regular study sessions together. Call it a pooling together of resources, or perhaps combining forces for the greater good. Weekly meetings turned into three days a week, and then eventually into daily meetups. The sight of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger sitting together at their table in the back by the window became a regular, even expected, sight. Heated arguments over scholarly disagreements took place in the 8th-year common room, far from the disapproving eyes of Madam Pince.
“I’m going mental. I need a break. Or maybe a vacation.” Draco kept his voice low—they were still in the library, after all.
The arms around him tightened, and Granger nuzzled his neck like some kind of grooming cat. “If you don’t study hard, I’m bound to beat you.”
He adjusted his pants. If she kept hugging him like this, he’d be forced to drag her off somewhere private. He wasn’t sure he’d make it very far.
“I highly doubt you’ve studied any harder than I have. I just happen to know when to call it quits and take some well deserved rest.”
“Is that what you Slytherins call it? Rest?”
Sweet suffering Salazar.
“I could actually use another reference from the Restricted Section. Care to join me?” His fingers played with the buttons of her cuffs, and he dropped his head back to lock his gaze with her own.
If only his father could see him now—his only son and heir trading heated looks with the girl he’d spent the entirety of his school years reviling. It was comical, really, how Draco had mistaken his own infatuation for animosity. His eyes were clear now. He knew without a doubt that he was one lucky wizard and that, Hermione-willing, he’d spend the rest of his days living up to her high expectations.
The smirk that slid onto her face was frighteningly similar to his trademark, yet another influence their classmates noticed more frequently as each day passed. Releasing her hold on him, she held a hand out in agreement, allowing him to lead her into the stacks far from prying eyes and ears."
If anyone had asked them later who ended up snatching the top scores that cycle, they would have been hard pressed to remember. In truth, they were both winners that particular day, and every one after that. Restful, well referenced winners.