A/n: Hello wonderful readers, I have to say when this plunny struck me it was pretty relentless. For right now this chapter will probably sit still for a bit, as I try to focus all my attention on Aimer Les Cicatrices D'un Loup, but I do plan on expanding this past an OS, but it will stay a smallish story.

Huge thanks to my beta kanewolfe and alpha gidgetmalfoy

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Draco pushed past Goyle on his way out, unable to tolerate the common room any longer. He had heard from Blaise, who had heard from his quick dalliance with Daphne Greengrass, who was told what Pansy was up to straight from the source. Somehow the pug-faced, barely competent, the spoiled princess had found a way to create a mist version of Amortentia and was spraying it around the Slytherin common room. All in the hope that it would entice Draco. But Draco didn't smell Pansy-fucking-Parkinson, if he did, his life would be infinitely easier. No, he was the cursed soul that inhaled, the Brightest Witch of Her Age, Prized Gryffindor Princess, Hermione-fucking-Granger.

"I can't, I just can't. She keeps spraying it everywhere, and I can't take it anymore," Draco grunted to his oldest friend. He knew that while Gregory Goyle moved and talked slowly, and allowed people to assume he was unintelligent, he was far from it. His best friend spent as much time studying as he did, just not the subjects they learned in school. Instead of concentrating on charms and potions, Greg invested his study time in the subjects he would need for his future, meaning the protection of the Malfoy family, and Greg's personal interest, healing. "Are you coming with?"

Greg nodded once, with a last look at the common room. Pansy sat attempting to look as enticing as possible in her much too short school skirt, and her shirt unbuttoned one too many. Greg shook his head as he followed Draco through the dungeons. He knew it wasn't Pansy's scent tormenting Draco, but Draco had yet to confide in him which witch he was tormented by when she sprayed her Amortentia.

Greg knew that whoever this witch was, was driving Draco mad. Pansy had only begun spraying the Amortentia around last week, but ever since that evening Draco had made a point of avoiding the common room, and his sleep had been restless. Greg had caught him up half the night reading by wand light. This behaviour wasn't unheard of from his friend, but he hadn't been this troubled since their sixth year when the threat of the Dark Lord hung over Draco's head.

Greg followed Draco in silence all the way until they were standing in front of the library doors. With a quirked eyebrow, he followed the blonde wizard to the Arithmancy section. Draco extracted a few books from the shelf, and with a quick nod from Draco, Greg turned on his heel. This time leading Draco through the library to in search of his current study, this time seeking out a new healing book he had heard about Magical & Muggle: The Bridge to Health. Showing it to Draco, they both chuckled at the title. Words were certainly unnecessary to know that times had changed. The fact that they could freely read books like this, without fearing what their fathers might do if they found them.

Draco continued to chuckle as they found their way to their favourite spots in the library. After the war was over, part of Draco's appeal to the court for leniency had been his own terms of punishment. When he stood before the Wizengamot, he proceeded to charge himself. He had charged himself with two counts of attempted murder, for Katie Bell and Ron Weasley, conspiracy to commit the murder of Albus Dumbledore, conspiracy to perform the Dark Acts, and kidnapping and false imprisonment. With his solicitor present, he requested a sentence of seven years house arrest and offered to pay restitution to all injured parties. Since Albus Dumbledore was no longer living, he would pay for the repairs needed for the school. He beseeched the court for the right to finish his last year at Hogwarts but assured that he would be confined to the school for the whole term. He would never forget the shocked faces of the Wizengamot, who deliberated for a few minutes before agreeing to his terms.

He couldn't dispute the fact that his agenda was Slytherin in nature when he had appealed to pay for the restoration of the Hogwarts. Especially when it came time to restore the library, which had been one of the worst damaged areas of the school. He happily added much cosier areas for studying, instead of the straight-backed wooden chairs that had been the only option offered before. With a smirk, he recalled Madam Pince's face when comfy armchairs were delivered to the library.

Draco opened one of the Arithmancy books in his lap, a bit of light reading now that they were only a few weeks away from the end of the term. He really didn't have any more studying to do, except the brushing up needed to prepare for N.E.W.T.s. Like many of his classmates, however, the war had taught them to appreciate life in the midst of the war, and while he valued getting good grades, he knew that he had learned enough at Hogwarts. And, it wasn't as though he didn't have businesses to run at home. He just wanted to enjoy his last few weeks at Hogwarts before returning home and staying there for the next seven years.

He had just finished reading Wolfe's theory on Statistical Observances in Squibs, when the reason he had fled the dungeons appeared in the library, tear streaked and running. Draco had hoped that, with Gryffindor currently occupied with a house party, she wouldn't be here. It was one of the only safe places in the castle for Greg and him to loiter outside of the Slytherin dorms. His grey eyes watched her run from the doors to the dark alcove near the Arithmancy section, where she sat down, curling her arms around her knees, head buried between them and cried.

Without a glance at Greg, Draco stood, letting the books fall to the floor, and walked over to the crying witch. If he had been thinking rationally and hadn't spent the last week being teased by her intoxicating scent, he might have shown more restraint. But there he was, walking over, extracting his handkerchief as he went. He knelt down until he was at Granger's level, and with the soft clearing of his throat held of the soft scrap of white silk. "Who's made you cry, Granger?"

His heart fluttered a bit when her round honey brown eyes locked on his. "What do you want Malfoy? Leave me alone," she sniffled, ignoring his offered handkerchief in favour of burying her head again, allowing her soft curls to fall around her face.

"I could leave you alone, but that wouldn't be the gentlemanly thing to do. Especially when a lady is crying in my presence," Draco said as he sat down, knowing the stubbornness of this witch could cause this to drag out.

"Since when have you cared if I cry?" Hermione asked, barely audible with her head still between her knees.

Draco had the decency to look guilty, "I will admit, in the past, I've been a right dick, and unfairly rude to you. But that doesn't mean people can't change. I'm here now, and I just want to know why you're crying."

Her curiosity finally got the best of her. It would have been one thing if he had just asked her why she was crying and made a joke about wanting to send them flowers. Now he sat before her, looking genuinely concerned about her. "Why do you care?"

"I told you, people change. The war taught everyone a lot. It taught me that every single bloody thing that ever came out of my father's mouth was worthless. I'll be stuck in my manor for seven years because of all of the things he taught me. But the war also taught me to have more compassion for people. While you and I don't have a good history, it doesn't mean I can't start repairing it now." Draco finished his short explanation, happy to see that he had at least distracted the witch from continuing to cry. "So again, who's made you cry?"

Hermione was momentarily speechless. She certainly hadn't ever expected anything so, well, mature to come from Draco Malfoy. But here she sat, on the floor of the library, crying, being offered a handkerchief, and asked why she was crying. She bit her lip. She didn't want to talk about why she was crying with anyone, let alone Draco Malfoy, and she still wasn't totally sure she could trust him.

"I don't really want to talk about it."

Draco smirked, understanding, "At least not with me. Well, what if I guess? Will you at least nod and let me know if I guess correctly?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow before rolling her eyes, "You'll never guess."

Draco chuckled, but he wasn't stupid, and there were only a handful of things that he could think would cause her to run from the Gryffindor party in tears. "You're right. I might never guess, but I would hazard a guess that tonight you found out that your precious Weaselbee has been sleeping his way around the school, enjoying the glory that he got from the war?"

Hermione's eyes widened, even as the tears began to form again. "Am I the only one in the whole bloody school who didn't know?!"

"Granger he's been trying really hard to keep it from you, so he could continue to string you along while enjoying himself in the arms of other witches. You honestly didn't know til tonight?" Draco asked, surprised that the Brightest Witch of the Age had been kept in the dark for so long.

Hermione shook her head, finally taking the handkerchief from him and wiping her eyes, "I had no idea until I saw him wrapped around Parvati and Lavender at the party tonight." She took a deep breath, trying to keep from crying all over again, the image of her crush snogging two witches, two of her classmates and dormmates burned into her mind. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Draco shrugged, shaking his hand when she offered him the handkerchief back. "Keep it. And they were probably hoping he'd grow up and stop toying with you."

"But they're my friends too! Why did they let me continue to care about him, or even hope for something with him if they knew he was messing around?" Hermione asked, suddenly a mixture of fury and sadness creeping over her.

Draco shrugged again, "They were probably trying to protect you, keep you from getting hurt."

Hermione stood, fists clenched at those words. "But I don't need protecting. After everything we've been through, I do not need protecting."

Draco stood, hands in front of him in an open sign of peace. "Granger, I'm just saying that's what I think they were doing, you should ask them yourself."

Hermione sighed, pushing her curls back from her face. They stood for a few moments in silence. "Why are you suddenly so calm and level headed?"

Draco shrugged, "I told you, people change. Would you like to come over and read a book before you head back?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow but followed Draco over to his secluded reading spot that Greg still occupied. Draco bent down and picked up the books that he had dropped in his haste, and handed one to Hermione. "You're reading Rose Wolfe's Analysis of Odd Numbers?" Hermione asked, utterly shocked.

"It's a good read," he explained, sitting down. The three classmates descended into silence as they each began to read from their books.

Greg, who has watched their whole exchange from across the library with curiosity, didn't miss the pair sneaking glances at the other as they continued to read in silence for the next twenty minutes. He schooled face to hide his smile, knowing that, if Draco caught him, he would suddenly feel the need to be more careful and hide his behaviour. Which was the last thing Greg wanted.

Hermione checked her watch briefly only to be shocked that it was nearing midnight, she had been so engrossed in the book. And for the first time, in a long time, she hadn't been interrupted with whines to leave early by the other people with her in the library. "Do you realise how late it is?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

Draco looked up from his book, marking his place. "Probably near midnight. Would you like us to escort you back to Gryffindor tower?"

Hermione shook her head, "I don't need an escort. I know my way through the castle."

Draco raised his eyebrow, "Oh Granger, I know that. We only want to make sure you don't run into anyone that would upset you again."

"Oh." Her voice dropped, suddenly understanding.

The threesome made quick work of putting the books back on the shelves, and as the last to leave the library extinguished most of the candles around the large room. Greg moved to walk behind the pair, who chatted comfortably about the renovations to the castle.

"I can't believe you were able to get Madam Pince to have armchairs in the library. When I first saw them I thought I died and gone to heaven," Hermione said, recalling the happiness of comfortable chairs in her favourite library.

"Well, when you foot the bill, they can't really argue?" Draco mused, realising that for some odd reason, he was pleased that she was happy with the changes.

"You paid for the renovations of the library?" Hermione asked, stopping in her tracks, flabbergasted. She knew there were parts of Draco Malfoy's sentence that had been kept from the press, but paying for renovations of the library, that was just, well, so... kind of him.

Draco shook his head, "No, I didn't pay for the renovations of the library. I paid for the renovations of the whole castle. It was part of my sentence and the part that the Wizengamot couldn't argue with. They were scrambling to figure out where the money would come from to fix the castle, and, unlike any other family in Wizarding Britain, with my father now perfectly ensconced behind bars, I had complete control over one of the wealthiest vaults there is. The Malfoy family, specifically my mother and I, paid for everything."

Hermione had stopped breathing. The figures for the cost of the Hogwart's renovations had been released before the start of term, and everyone had wondered how they could afford the fixes to the ancient castle. She felt a sudden and very odd desire to hug him, and thank him for fixing the place she felt most at home. Ignoring the sudden urge to touch Draco Malfoy, she settled for a whispered, "Thank you," before they continued on their way.

They had just gone up the last flight of stairs to Gryffindor Tower when giggling, moaning, and grunting reached their ears from their right. Hermione turned and began walking toward the sounds, unsure why her feet moved, only to feel a sudden cold liquid spread down from the top of her head, and Draco's hand grasp her own.

"No, come on," Draco murmured, pulling her away from the sounds.

Hermione turned around to see Greg waving his wand in a careful arc before a soft light left the tip and he followed after the pair. "What just happened?"

"Your friend is enjoying himself, and he doesn't seem to care if you find him," Draco said, his teeth gritted as he continued to pull the now disillusioned Hermione Granger towards Gryffindor Tower. He would deal with his own feelings later, but right now she didn't need to witness what the idiot Weasley was up to in the hallway.

When they reached the portrait, Draco let go of her hand, and before Greg could undo the disillusion charm, the source of Draco's annoyance came moving up the hall. "Oi! Malfoy, what are you doing up here?" Ron asked, his voice heavy, his shirt untucked and misbuttoned, while two girls followed behind him, both haphazardly dressed.

"What's it to you, Weasley?" Draco asked as Greg took a step closer to him. He was in no mood to deal with Weasley's issues and just wanted to get rid of him as quickly as possible so that Hermione could return to her dorms and away from her friend.

"You're up near my tower, you wanker. So what are you doing up here?" Ron asked again, throwing one arm around one of the witches next to him.

Draco felt Hermione shudder, and he knew he was running out of him. With the smallest of nods, he cued up his friend who fired a quick hex and then an even faster stupefy at the red haired wizard, who fell the ground. The two witches in his company began shrieking and soon dissolved into hysterics.

"No one calls my mate a wanker," Greg said menacingly as though it justified the whole act.

Draco leant forward and with his voice barely above a breath said, "Go now."

Hermione closed her hand around Draco's and squeezed before she gave the portrait the password and disappeared.

Draco smirked at Greg, who smirked back before they set off back for the dungeons. "Well, this evening was full of surprises."

Greg looked at his friend carefully when they walked down the first flight of stairs. "Is she the one you've been smelling with Pansy's Amortentia?"

Draco did nothing but nod, and continue to walk.

"Oh, the failings of Amortentia," Greg said chuckling.

To be continued...