Hi, me again. I know it's another oneshot, but I'm going to assume you don't mind. Prompted by an anon on tumblr, I spent the last two days writing this instead of the birthday fic I'm supposed to be finishing. (insert interalised panic here)

Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger

Prompt: It all started with a rumour during the last (read: eighth) year of Hogwarts: Hermione Granger sucked Theodore Nott's cock in his room. Draco refuses to accept that he has a crush on Hermione, but when he hears the rumor about his friend with the girl and sees Hermione entering Theo's room… Will he be able to leave behind his stupid supremacist beliefs, accept hsi feelings for Hermione an tell her how he feels abour her? But...what does he do with Theo?

What you can expect from this fic: ANGST form purely Draco's POV, misunderstandings, post-war struggles, Hermione & Theo friendship, and a brief mention of bullying ( Not a Draco/Hermione interaction), annnnnd a happy ending. There is no sexual content, but it feels heavy to me, and there are mentions of sexual thoughts, so I'm marking it as M. I hope you'll read anyway!

A big thanks to my forever cheerleaders, Frumpologist and mcal. Thank you to PureProse for offering to beta!

It starts as a rumor, and begins the unraveling of Draco Malfoy's sanity.

It's a whisper in the corridors, spreading amongst students, and Parkinson is the most vocal of them all. "Granger sucked Theo off in his bedroom." It takes seven—seven—words for Draco to freeze midstep.

His father's voice is in his ear telling it's unbecoming of a Malfoy, but Lucius doesn't matter anymore. Not when he's spending a life sentence in Azkaban.

Draco passes them, ignores Pansy crying out his name, and makes his way to the dungeons. At least he can ignore the nonsense.

Potions is with Gryffindor that morning. He's not sure how it slipped his mind, considering the object of his current frustration—er, both of them actually—sit close to him. He shares a work table with Theo. Granger sits at the next table over, joined by Longbottom. For a moment that's indiscernible to him, Draco considers faking an illness and going to the hospital wing.

By the time Madam Pomfrey ushered him out, Potions would be over.

"You're going to be late." Granger's voice sounds from beside him, and she passes him without another word. Her robes hang off of her, more so than the drab robes he remembers from before.

It's a mistake to call out, "If I'm going to be late, aren't you?" Draco cringes. It sounds as if he just wanted another second of her talking to him, and if that's not pathetic, he doesn't know what is.

She pauses and looks back at him, a smile curving her lips. "Well, I think I'll be on time considering I'm not the one staring at a wall."

Bloody buggering fuck—

Draco moves past her with lips curled into a snarl, and bumps her shoulder with his harder than he should.

The contact seems to burn him, but not for the reasons he would have preferred.

The rumor spreads through Hogwarts by the end of the day, and by the end of the week, Draco wants to pull his hair out. He's located the source of his frustration, Granger and Theo, but he's yet to figure out why he's so angry every time he sees one of them.

That's an absolute fucking lie.

Draco knows. It's impossible not to. Everytime he sees her, his gaze drops to the bow of her lips, and before he can stop himself, he's wondering what it would be like to have them wrapped around his cock. Which ultimately leads to an image of her on her knees for his best mate. The same terrible thought strikes him in the middle of a Quidditch practice and he knocks Blaise from his broom as a result of not thinking clearly.

If his friend notices, he doesn't say anything before Draco stalks off the pitch and toward the showers.

Granger spends an awful lot of time with Theo, especially considering the house prejudices that are heavier than ever. They sit in the library together, and Draco doesn't stick around to see what happens.

They're probably only studying.

Yet he's not so sure of that, and he doesn't want to discover he's wrong either.

During a Hogsmeade weekend, with the rest of her house already ostracising her, Granger is found with Theo in the Three Broomsticks. There's a ridiculous foam mustache on her upper lip, and it shouldn't be endearing, but it is. Madam Rosmerta takes pity on Draco in the spirit of forgiveness, and slides him a tumbler of amber liquid sloshing against the sides.

"You shouldn't look like you need this when you're so young, but," Rosmerta shrugs, and steps away without another word.

Hours later, while the two of them are still seated opposite one another, Draco is pissed. Rosmerta's cut him off, citing that McGonagall is absolutely going to have her head, so he's resorted to swiping the remainder of drinks that are left.

It's sickening that he's clinging to the haze of booze, but the sight of her laughing—her head tipping backward while exposing her throat, which he suddenly wants to taste, while her lips part and she giggles—is too much to turn away from.

Even if it's not for him. Even if it's for his best mate.

Merlin, he's so fucked.

She's patrolling later that night, and Theo's not with her. Not at her side like Draco expects. Not pressing her into the castle walls until there's scratches reaching through the thin jumper she wore. No, Theo's nowhere to be seen.

Draco doesn't understand. If he were in Theo's place, Granger would be pinned to the wall, his knee wedged between her thighs while he kissed her until her lips were bruised and her hair was knotted from his fingers running through it.

At least, that's what Draco would do.

Fuck, no, that's wrong. God, this is so wrong, and I'm—

"Malfoy?" Her voice is tentative, wrapping around him as her quiet footsteps near him. "Are you alright?" Granger stands right in front of him, her hand twitches as if she's going to reach for him, but she doesn't. She keeps it firmly at her side.

He's undecided if it's what he wanted, or if it's the opposite. It's a mistake to laugh when she's a breath away from him, and his breath is, well—

"Are you drunk?" Gone is the authoritative voice she so often uses on the younger students. He expects her to fall back into that. "Malfoy, look at me." Her fingers are soft when she forces him to stop staring over her head.

If he doesn't look at her, he doesn't have to think about her. He can see curls in his peripheral, but they could belong to anyone.

No, she forces him to look at her, cupping both of his cheeks while her eyes search his.

Her eyes are a soft brown, and he's comically reminded of the amber coloured firewhisky that got him into this situation. There's flecks of gold that stand out, luring him in, and he's falling before he realises.

Not in the emotional sense—fine, possibly that way too, but that's another though to follow later—but Draco literally loses his balance and slams into her. Her hands—fuck they're tiny; not big enough to wrap around his—raise to his chest, but she can't prevent him from toppling over her.

Granger's warm against him, and she gasps when they hit the floor. Wincing, Draco crawls off of her with barely a scrap of dignity when he wants to stay right there. "Fuck, are you okay?"

It stuns him that she's not angry, not snapping that he's going to be expelled for his behaviour. In fact, Granger's grinning ear to ear. She's laughing, a sweet sound that reaches his ears as his cheeks grow warm. And it's just the copious amount of booze that's turned everything upside down, and it's the only reason why he can't stop staring at her.

"I'm fine." She smiles, and sits across from him with her legs crossed. "It didn't hurt much."

"That's bullshite." He accidentally says it out loud and she arches an eyebrow. "I'm bigger than you." Not only are his words failing him, he's also slurring.

Fuck, his head is going to kill him in the morning.

She laughs. "You're quite dense. Quidditch will do that to you, but it's not as if you hit me with your pointy nose, so I think I'll be okay."

His pointy..? He glares at her for a second before it hits him. She's joking, teasing him, and Draco immediately thinks he doesn't deserve that sort of treatment. "Is this where you take me to McGonagall?"

She blinks slowly, dark lashes fanning across her skin, and he knows, as ridiculous as it is, that he's romanticizing everything about her. "No, this is the part where we brew a Sober Up potion so your head doesn't split open in the morning."

"Why?" The syllable, single and revealing, is a rasp.

Granger's still sitting opposite him, the corner of her lips twitching. "You're so unbelievably drunk, Malfoy. I just want to help you."

There's no reason for her to want to help him. "Is it because I'm Theo's best mate?" Asking it is a terrible idea. He knows it as soon as it's out of his mouth because his stomach twists and churns, and he thinks he might vomit.

"Why would that matter?"

Yes, you stupid fuck, why does it matter?

She swallows, and his eyes are drawn to her throat, as is his terrible habit of late. "Theo would probably like if the two of us got along." Granger shrugs. "He feels like he needs to keep us separate since you loathe me."

His brain almost shorts out. "You mean to say we loathe each other."

Granger traces the cracks in the stone beneath her. She's not acting as if Filch and Mrs Norris could catch them at any moment. "I said what I said. I don't hate you, Malfoy. Contrary to whatever you believe, I've not hated you since Easter."

There's a sudden hollowness in his chest. Easter. How could he have forgotten Easter? In all the time he's watched her, he's completely forgotten that this is the same girl who was tortured by his aunt, whose screams shattered against his ornate ceiling and—

He can't fucking breathe.

Granger is on him in a second, glancing over him while pushing his head up. "Hey, can you hear me?"

She's screaming, and she's bleeding. There's a laugh—

"Malfoy!" Granger's voice is what brings him out of it, and he's slumped over on the floor, his hands braced against the cool stone. "You're having a panic attack." She states, lifting her hand.

Before he can think about it twice, Draco smacks it away. "I don't need your help." He spits, and the pressure in his chest is too much. He's staring at her, and there's several things he could say, but he falls back into his old ways. "I don't need help from a Mudblood."

Hurt flits across her face, and it doesn't disappear. Granger falls back on her haunches, and she only nods. "Whatever you say, Malfoy." It's not like her to not to fight back, but then again, she's probably tired of fighting. "Can you find your way back to the dungeons?"

She's still asking if he's okay, still offering to help.

Not sure if he wants to scramble away from her, or snog her while later blaming it on being pissed, Draco thinks it's lucky when she makes the decision for him. Granger stands, and shakes her head. "Right then. Filch will be this way soon. You ought to hurry."

She leaves him sitting on the floor. He doesn't know which way is up or down-all he can focus on is the fact that he'd made her cry.

Fuck.

"I don't know, Theo." The voice is soft, familiar.

Draco rolls onto his side, ignoring the way his head pounds, and presses his face into his pillow. It's going to be impossible to pull himself out of bed for a day of classes, but it's not even the worst part. There's something just on the outskirts of his thoughts, something that he's certain had caused the tight coil of nerves in his stomach.

It's not even close to being worse than a hangover, but it's close.

And it's a really fucking bad hangover.

"That doesn't mean he has to be such a prick about it." It's definitely Theo's voice, and there's a hard edge to it. "Honestly, you shouldn't bother giving him this. He's never going to appreciate it like he should."

"That's not why I'm doing it." It's a weak feminine sigh, and the door slams open a second later.

"Malfoy!" Theo barks. When Draco doesn't budge, he rips the blanket out from under him, sending Draco crashing onto the stone floor. "Take this, now." He thrusts the vial into Draco's hands. "And get the fuck out."

Draco sits up. His eyes widen as he sees Granger lingering just inside the door. "What is she doing here?"

Theo's glaring at him, and his fingers move toward his wand. "For some reason, Hermione wants to help you despite the fact that you're a tremendous bastard. Swallow the potion, and get out."

He doesn't hesitate to do that.

But he considers bursting back into the room to stop Granger and Theo from...

Draco doesn't really want to think about what they're doing.

It takes a week before Draco is able to admit it to himself. He's watching her, and she's noticed. Sometimes, she awards him a half smile as she catches him. Then, she'll turn away, saying nothing at all.

She'd been wrong. He doesn't hate her, but it would be easier if he did. He doesn't think her beneath him for her blood status. It would be an attempt to wallow in denial to treat her as if she were.

It's a problem since she's apparently with Theo. What other explanation was there? And Theo's his closest friend, has been since they were small, and no friendship is worth destroying over a girl.

Yet he's thinking about it every single time she spares him a glance.

Halfway into November, the rumors surrounding Granger and Theo haven't gone away. There's a rumor that she's doused him with a love potion, that Theo's using her as a step to rise above his Death Eater father, that Granger's already up the duff, and Draco is about to lose his mind.

At the end of November, a month since everything began to scratch at him, Professor Flitwick pairs Granger and he in Charms. She tentatively nears his table, her fingers clutching her parchment until her knuckles are completely white.

"You could pair up with Theo, if you wanted." Draco says, his voice hoarse. "I could take Edgecombe." He looks to Theo, who's not looking at him at all.

Theo shakes his head. "No, but you can have my seat, Hermione."

She sits beside him, and doesn't meet his eye. "I think we could finish this in a few hours if we did it all at once. Would that be a problem?" Granger pushes her hair from her face. "I realise you may have plans, so any day is fine—"

He doesn't have plans. Not today, or any day, but the answer is out of his mouth before he can stop it. "Saturday would be fine."

Granger nods. "It's freezing outside. Would you mind using the Room of Requirement?"

Draco tugs at his collar as he remembers the heat of fiendfyre. "That's fine."

"I'll start our essay then, at least parts of it. You can look it over when I'm done. Saturday?" She repeats, and her nose twitches.

He agrees.

Saturday.

It's selfish to pick the day, robbing her of a day spent with Theo in Hogsmeade, but he's never been a good man.

As he nears the seventh floor, he thinks of it, and asks her the moment she comes into view. "Why did you suggest the Room of Requirement rather than the library?"

She flinches. Whether it's because of the question, or him, Draco doesn't know. "Everyone in our class may know we were paired together, but the rest of the school doesn't. I figured you'd be ashamed to be seen with me, and while I don't give a shite, I could do without the constant glares for it."

He's really fucked this up. "I'm not ashamed of being seen with you."

Granger scoffs. "If you expect me to believe that after you called me a Mudblood, you're stupider than I thought."

It's the first time he's ever flinched at the slur. "I," Draco clears his throat. "Come on."

She doesn't budge.

"I shouldn't have called you that." He admits. "And I shouldn't have thrown your kindness back in your face."

Granger folds her arms across her face. "Then why did you?"

He should be thinking about Theo, about how telling any version of the truth would be admitting something to Theo's girlfriend. "I wanted you to get away from me. You made my head hurt, and I don't know what to do about it."

There's a soft little gasp, and he wants to hear her make it again under different circumstances. "Listen, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and Theo's a prick when he's irritated, so if we could just start this assignment…" He glances behind them. "Please just come to the library."

Granger pushes away from the wall, and falls into step beside him. "I don't think Theo would be irritated if we were to get along. He's always complaining that his two best friends would murder eachother if left alone. Not that I would," she murmurs the last bit in a hurry.

When he stops, she bumps into him, and it's so like Granger to be reading something instead of watching where she's going. "Pardon?"

She blinks, and her eyes are just as alluring when he's not drunk. "What?"

"Theo complains about his best friends?" He asks.

"Frequently. He says it's hard to split his time, but he wouldn't want one of us to be—"

He still doesn't understand. "I'm sorry, best friends?" Draco repeats. "You and Theo?"

"Of course. What did you think we—Malfoy, no. Please tell me you didn't fall for that ridiculous rumor!"

His cheeks fill with colour, heat up, grow ruddy, and he's never felt so embarrassed. Dragging a hand through his hair, Draco sighs. "I might have. You've been joined at the hip, and if you haven't noticed, the two of you have acted… Well, what did you expect? You came to our dorm so early that one day! And I know you've been in there other times."

Through gritted teeth, Grangers whispers, "I only came by to bring that potion for you. All of the other times were because it's hard for us to study in the library when every member of your house wants to mock him!"

She doesn't say the second part, but it's clear. "Do you mean to say they're mocking you too?"

"Of course they are! In their minds, I'm still a frizzy haired eleven year old with terrible teeth!"

Bloody fucking hell, Theo and Granger had never been dating. "I don't understand how the two of you even became friends. If you're not dating, then—"

She sighs dramatically, and for a moment, he thinks she might hit him. Again. "I haven't been in the best place mentally since the end of the war, alright? I didn't intend to come back, but I did. During the first night of patrols, two of your housemates saw it fit to stalk me through the castle. I wasn't scared, I could take them, but they…" Granger stares at her feet. "It's nothing worth repeating, but Theo was also patrolling and he handled it."

Draco shakes his head. "Tell me what happened."

She sighs.

"There was a boggart hidden in a broom cupboard, and you know there's always a couple snogging in them, so that's why I opened it. When I did, the boggart— it was Bellatrix Lestrange."

His blood runs cold, and the air rushes out of his lungs. "Who was it?" It's a hiss, low and threatening, and she stares at him. "Granger, tell me who it was now."

"There's nothing you can do about it." She insists. "It was two girls."

"Parkinson?"

Granger's face pales.

"Right, of course it was. Bullstrode?"

She stares at her feet, and he slips his arm through hers, pulling her along. "Where are we going?" Granger doesn't pull away from him-he tries not to feel guilty about liking it.

"Hogsmeade."

She prevents him from storming into the village, and ultimately giving his housemates a taste of what they've caused. "I don't want you to." She says, tugging him to a stop in front of the library. "I know you're on probation for the year. It's not worth it. They're serving detention with Filch every Friday anyway until Christmas."

Her begging isn't going to stop him, but if she wants to believe it, then fine.

She stares at him when a wail fills the Great Hall, and he calmly pops a ration of bacon into his mouth. Currently, Pansy is screeching that her engagement to a wizard in France has been unraveled. He's rejected the match on account of unseemly memories that have found their way to him.

He waves to Hermione, noticing Theo's grin from the corner of his eye, and continues breakfast unabashed even when she shoots him an obscene gesture.

A hand shoots out of an alcove and drags him inside. He's pressed to the wall before he can blink, and a wand jabs into his chest. "Granger," Draco greets. "We probably shouldn't meet like this unless you want another rumor to start."

She blushes. "Shut up. I told you to leave it alone."

"It's your fault if you believed I would."

"I had no reason to think otherwise!" She mutters. "If I didn't know better, I'd probably think you care more than you're letting on." Voices pass them by as students hurry past, and she stiffens. "Whatever you have planned for Bullstrode, just let it go. I think you've done enough psychological damage already. She looks over her shoulder constantly because she thinks she's next."

He chuckles. "She should be worried."

Granger shakes her head, and lays her hand on his forearm. Underneath his sleeve, there's a brand that will never lead him. Does she realise what she's holding on to, even despite the layer between them? "I don't know why you're defending me, but I appreciate what you've done. Even if I don't agree with the means."

Draco smirks.

"It ends now though. No more."

With a roll of his eyes, he tilts his head to the side. "We're late."

There's a muttered curse under her breath. "Will you promise not to do anything?"

He doesn't want to, but she's pleading with him, her eyes wide, and he crumbles. "She deserves it, but fine."

Her smile is brilliant as she bounces away from him. Granger slides into the room before him, and she takes the free spot beside Theo, leaving him to take the seat beside her. Their professor looks to them with an arched brow.

"Today, we'll be duelling while practicing offensive magic. I'm sure this won't be a problem for some of you."

Or any of them really. Most of the students in the room had fought in the Battle of Hogwarts, or had been caught in a duel with the Carrows year prior.

"I've selected partners randomly so we'll get started right away." He adjusts his glasses, squinting at the list he's holding. "Miss Bullstrode and Mr Malfoy."

Granger emits an adorable squeak as her head snaps up and her eyes meet his. Draco's aware of the smirk, however cruel it may be, curving his lips as he peers of her head to glare at Bullstrode.

The colour drains from her face.

He gets detention for using unnecessary force in a school duel, but Draco doesn't feel guilty when Bullstrode's forced to wear a muggle sling.

Granger's shriek of indignation is still too loud in his ears, a rather loud memory, from the day earlier. To their professor, it had looked like an accident, just a flurry of spells, and there was no way Draco could have known Theo was casting Bombarda toward Boot.

Draco claims he was focused on his own duel, and while McGonagall doesn't believe him, she seems to let it go. If she's noticed anything between him and Granger, it's unsurprising.

Granger lets him have it though. She's got him bloody well pegged, and snaps that he'd manipulated the situation to his own needs.

He doesn't deny it, and her anger simmers.

"You're done now?"

Still firm in the belief that there's more to be done, he agrees so she'll stop yelling. "I'll stop."

"Thank Merlin." She murmurs, dropping her head back to their essay for Charms.

Draco's put in plenty of work, but he has to admit to himself that sitting across from her was the best part about it. Except when she sucked on the end of a sugar quill, and his trousers tighten.

Detention with Filch includes cleaning the Potions supply closet. Which, he learns later, Filch was meant to do after losing a bet with the professor. Without magic, it takes two hours to organise by name. There's well over a thousand ingredients, all scattered.

The corridors are mostly empty as he makes the short trip to the dungeons. He rubs the back of his neck, looking forward to falling into bed. His fucking back is killing him. His fingers brush against the doorknob when he hears whispering.

"...Theo, I don't think you're right. Draco doesn't feel that way at all." It's Granger.

It's wrong to eavesdrop, but Draco doesn't budge from the door. He doesn't enter, and he doesn't step away even though it's likely a private conversation. She'd said his name, and he can't make himself move.

Theo snorts loudly. "You're mental if you don't believe me. He terrorized Pansy and Milly. Milly still looks over her shoulder wherever she goes because she's scared."

There's an exasperated sigh. "Which is still ridiculous. He used you to break her arm, aren't you upset about that?"

"I'm upset," Theo drawls, "that he didn't make good use of the window behind her."

"THEO!"

"Don't call my name like that, love. You'll feed the rumour mill and send poor Draco into a tailspin again." There's a muted laugh, and Draco wants to strangle him. So Theo had known how the rumors affected him. "I might have told him I shagged you on his bed."

She screeches.

"And that's how I know he's mental about you. Hermione, he looked like he wanted to punch me," Theo continues.

There's silence, and Draco counts to fifteen before she replies. "You don't know if that's because he fancies me, or if it's because you supposedly shagged someone on his bed. If Parvati did that to me, I would be pretty upset."

Draco is rooted to the spot, his mind slowly going back through all of their interactions. Granger had never been dating Theo, and she's been absurdly nice to him—

"I'd hoped he would be jealous when I realised he believed those rumours, and each was more ridiculous than the last, but…" She trails off. "If he's willing to be friends, I can accept that. You shouldn't try to force him—"

He pushes the door open, his heart slamming into his ribs while he looks from Theo to her. Her eyes widen in horror. "Get out."

She scrambles.

"Not you. You stay. Theo, out. Don't come back." Draco's not assuming anything that could happen, but he has the thought that pulling the truth of Granger is going to take a while.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" Theo asks, smugly grinning.

Draco clenches his jaw. "I don't care. Find somewhere that isn't here." As the door closes behind Theo, Draco remains where he's standing. Halfway across the room, he rocks back on his heels, and all he wants to do is close the distance. "I, uh," He's fumbling, rubbing the back of his neck. "I think we ought to talk."

Granger shifts on the bed, staring at her fingers as she tugs on a thread. "How much did you hear?"

"Most of it, I imagine."

She nods, squeezing her eyes shut, and he's certain that he doesn't want to be the reason for her tears, again.

"This is humiliating."

His low laugh is misconstrued as he shoves his hands into his pockets. "I don't think so. What's humiliating is the fact that I've agonised over this for weeks, and there was apparently no reason to do so."

Granger's hair hides her face, and she doesn't look up when he crosses the room. "I don't follow."

He sits in front of her on the bed, drawing a breath. "Theo was right. I wanted to hit him when he told me that. I thought about it, how angry it made me."

She glances up. "That never happened. Theo and I have never so much as snogged."

"Yes," Draco nods. "I know that now."

Her swallow is quiet. "Why would you want to hit him?"

"Why did you sit with me while I was drunk? Why haven't you reminded me exactly who I've been?" Draco whispers. "Look, Granger, I've struggled with this. I'm not a very good person. I asked you to study on a Saturday so you wouldn't go to Hogsmeade with Theo—back when I thought the two of you were dating. I was conflicted with I insulted your blood status that night you sat with me. What I said was wrong."

She takes a breath and taps her fingers against the blanket. "Do you think Voldemort was right? Do you still believe I have less claim to my magic? That I stole it?"

His flinch doesn't go unnoticed. There's a time, now trapped in the last, that he'd believed that. "No."

Her chest deflates as she sighs in relief. "That's reassuring. Maybe not ideal if you're still struggling with your beliefs—"

"Former beliefs," he interjects. "How could I believe any of it anymore?"

Granger appears to contemplate reaching for him, and he decides that if she does, he won't stop her. "That's a large improvement. It matters."

But they're still standing on the cusp of something, and they're both terrified to make the first move.

"I can't get you out of my head." Draco whispers. "No matter what I do, you're always there."

Her fingers brush his. "Do you want to get me out of your head?"

He's admitted it to himself, but admitting it to her is an astronomical step. He takes it without knowing what comes after.

"No."

She opens her mouth, but he cuts her off.

"I want you. There's no denying that anymore, but I think you'd be making a mistake by letting me have you."

Curls fall into her face as she tilts her head to the side.

"You're good." He explains weakly. "I'd be a constant reminder of what you hated, of what you went through, and I don't want to be that."

Granger scoots closer, her knee bumping his while she peers up at him. "You're not any of that, especially after what you've said. You're changing, and while I admit I'd never want to be with someone who thinks of me as a lesser, I like the rest of you."

She cups his cheek, her fingers warm against his skin. "I happen to like your sarcasm—" Granger swipes her thumb across his cheekbone "—and your normal surliness—" the bed dips below her as she settles onto her knees "—I just like you."

He grabs her, tangling his fingers in her hair as he presses his lips to her urgently. "I'm selfish, and I want you." Draco growls, nipping her lower lip.

She meets him by fisting her hands in his shirt and pulls him closer. "Then be selfish. You can be selfish with me."

Granger's too good for him, and he doesn't deserve an ounce of her.

He speaks his thoughts out loud by mistake again.

"Don't care," her gasp is muffled by the way she feverishly slants her lips against his. "I want all of you, not just the parts you think are worthy." Granger's fingers run along his forearms as he kisses down her neck. "Give me what's good, and what's broken. Give me all of it."

Hovering over her while she pulls his face to hers, his heart nearly gives out by the way she's grinning. While all he wants to do is kiss her until her lips are even more bruised than they are now, and her hair even more of a wreck than it already is, Draco swallows. "I'll give you everything." His nose bumps hers, slightly clumsily, and somehow it doesn't unravel everything. "I can't promise I'll be the best…"

She shakes her head, her fingers slipping into his hair, her nails scraping his scalp. "We'll start from here, and we can figure out the rest."

It sounds like everything he's convinced himself he couldn't have is coming true. "There's going to be problems. If Gryffindor was so against the idea of Theo—"

"I don't care. I'm going to do whatever makes me happy." Granger says confidently. "I don't care what the Slytherins thinks either, if you don't."

He doesn't.

"If you're worried about your family… I don't know what will happen there, but—"

"I don't give a shite what either of them think. My father will never leave Azkaban. My mother is more likely to accept this, but it's still not guaranteed."

She shrugs. "If she didn't, would it change anything?'

Surprisingly, he doesn't have to think about it. "No, it wouldn't." Her lips are warm as she presses them to his jaw. "Stay here?"

Granger cocks her head to the side.

"Not to—" He honestly wants to drown himself in the prefect's bath for consistently fumbling over words. "I'll think I imagined this." That's not any less of fumbling, you fucking twat.

Her smile is soft as it spreads across her face, and she gives a soft laugh. "I'll stay," Granger agrees. "But I'm not sleeping in Theo's bed. I've never done that, and I don't intend to now."

Still reeling from everything that's happened, Draco follows her as she leads him by the hand to his bed. She curls up beside him, throwing her leg over his while burying her face in the crook of his neck.

Neither of them says anything while he runs his fingers up her spine, tracing it over and over again until she drifts to sleep. Her breath fans across his throat, and Draco doesn't drift off until well past midnight. Her weight is flush against him, a constant reminder that she's there.

In the morning, there are new rumours spreading like fiendfyre through Hogwarts. Draco wants to return to that morning as he pinned Granger to the sink in the bathroom, slowly kissing her until she clung to him.

It's not an option, unfortunately.

Everyone's forgotten that Hermione Granger and Theo Nott are supposed to be together. As if they hadn't been prattling about it for close to two months now.

"Hermione and Draco Malfoy? That's mental. She'd never—"

"They left his dorm together? She's a prefect, she would never—"

"Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it."

Theo meets them outside the dungeons, a wide smile splitting across his face. "So, you two finally talked then?"

Draco glares at him. "You knew all along, didn't you?"

His best mate throws his hands up. "The sexual tension when you two are in the same room has been overwhelming. I think everyone's noticed." It's not true, considering all of the disbelief they've encountered on the way out of the Slytherin common room. "I can only imagine that it will be even worse now."

Granger keeps her fingers intertwined in his, and lays her head on his shoulder. She meets his eyes as he looks down at her.

Draco continues, squeezing her hand. "My point is that you knew and never told me you weren't actually dating her."

"If I had," Theo flicks him in the nose. "You would have never gotten your shite together. You've been watching her long before Hermione and I were friends."

Draco's come a long way, but he doesn't want to focus on the fact that Theo is right.

"Besides, I wanted to be sure that you'd be good to her. I didn't mean to make you miserable. though"

"Aww," Hermione cooes, untangling herself, and slings her arms around Theo's waist. "I realise that you want to act like the brother I've never had, but I think I can handle myself."

Draco takes her hand in his as they make their way toward the Great Hall. He pulls her against him as they enter, tugging her to sit beside he and Theo at the Slytherin table.

Granger sits between them, her cheeks heating as Draco lightly grips her upper thigh. As all eyes are on them, he chooses to take advantage of the Hogwarts rumour mill.

"You know," Draco quips, catching multiple grins at the head table. "You kick in your sleep."

She sniggers, and the table bursts into whispers.

That's the end of this little eighth year story. I hope you liked it as much as I liked writing it. If you did, let me know. I'll be back with an update for something soon, and probably another oneshot by the end of the week.