Clandestine Whispers

>>>>>3 Study-buddy, or Something Else?

The next morning, Hermione decided to wake up earlier than usual to rush to the library, which had become a habit of hers to make sure she had all homework done. So busy had she been with beginning her Malfoy research, and scribbling everything down before dinner began the night before, that she had totally forgotten all about her Potions homework! It was very unlike her, and she was quite ashamed of herself, but had been so avidly interested in Malfoy research that the time had passed her by. Luckily though, she only had one unfinished page. But it was the most important page of the entire project, so she wanted to get it done with time to get back to her dorm and get ready before breakfast started. Knowing no one would be around at 6:00 in the morning, which was a half hour earlier than her usual, she threw on her cloak over her nightgown, and, gathering up her bag and books, rushed out the door.

Hermione had just plopped her bag and books onto the table, and had just slid into her chair, when a half-yell half-grumble came from behind the shelf to her right. Wondering who or what on earth could be awake at this time in the morning, and hoping against hope it wasn't going to turn into another escapade with Harry, she slowly inched towards the bookshelf.

Peering around the corner, she raised a brow at the sight before her.

Malfoy?

Studying?

In the library at 6:00 a.m., and apparently almost done before she'd even started!

The Slytherin prefect once again grumbled, running his hands through his blonde hair several times. Hermione was surprised he hadn't noticed her presence yet. Quiet like a cat, he had keen senses like a cat, too. He must be having a hard time with his homework, to not be noticing me. I wonder what subject has got him in such a fuss? What is with him and these homework visits lately, anyway? How weird. He has been acting so out of character lately. I wonder if it has any relation to-

Her thoughts were cut off, as suddenly she found herself face to face with Draco Malfoy himself.

"What the bloody hell are you doing, Granger? Spying on me?"

Malfoy's eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks still slightly flushed from anger and frustration, every muscle of his body rigid with tension. Hermione was in a dilemma. Yes, she had been momentarily been spying, so to speak, but it was more like observing. The thought came across to her that she maybe should start spying on him, and taking notes. But then, she focused back on the present. What to say?

"No, Malfoy. Why would I want to spy on YOU? I was just arriving to quietly study, but all your fussy noise interrupted me. And to think I was considering helping you with that homework you're fussing over! But with your accusing attitude, I don't think I will anymore. How dumb of me to think you'd be grateful I even considered."

Hermione turned around to hide her smile. She took a step away, to make it look like she really was refusing.

"Wait!"

His hand shot out to grab her shoulder, spinning her around. His face was so close to hers, Hermione could feel his hot breath on her as he said, "Rethink that decision. If you went off to do your homework, you'd still be bothered by my noise, right? And having the presence of your intellectual mind at a distance from me when I could use it would irritate the hell out of me. I need your help. I stayed up all night trying to figure this stuff out. This bloody transfiguration is killing my brain."

Hermione gave a small smile. "Why Malfoy, I didn't know you had a brain in the first place. However, since your so polite, I guess I'll help you. But I have my own homework to do afterwards, so you have to shut up and just listen, alright?" Malfoy nodded, and finally took his hand off her shoulder, along with taking notice of what she wore.

Hermione blushed. Her nightgown was getting a bit too small for her, and had become shorter and more fitting her figure since last year than she was used to.

Quickly turning away, Malfoy sat back down at the table, and Hermione pulled up another chair.

Glancing down at his homework, she laughed.

He might have nice handwriting, and he did admit he needs help, but his transfiguration is worse than Ron's!

And so, the study sessions began.

~~*~~

Sometimes, every once in a while, Draco Malfoy questioned why and how he had developed his odd relationship with Hermione Granger. She was a muggle-born, friend to his enemy Harry Potter and one of the Weasleys that he had grown to hate for their inferiority, often took the brunt of his anger and pain by readily accepting the insults of Mudblood, and a know-it-all.

She was quite unlike anyone he'd ever known.

But of course, that had never intrigued him before. However, that envelope had risen his curiousity about the girl, along with his memory of her attractive presence at the Yule Ball the previous year. Also, he had come to know that the Krum and Granger relationship had simmered down into nothing more than penpal-ship. For some reason, that made him feel something. He just couldn't pinpoint what.

He still hated Potter and Weasley, but for some reason, the way Granger had always stood up to him--without talking back or charging in for a fight, and sometimes denying his presence at all (ignoring him)--and always managed to keep her cool, surprised him. He admired her for that; throughout all the insults he'd given her, all the adventures she gone through as Potter's friend, and all the study and responsibility heaved upon her shoulders, she never, ever broke down.

He had never truly realized how special she was, and how different she might be inside, until the first library incident. Also, his discovery that the girl had a serious addiction to Sugar Quills was quite amusing; who would have thought the best student would be attached to a tasty writing utensil? He knew that, somewhere deep down, there must be another side of Granger, another personality and type of thought than her usual studious, confident, responsible self. After the envelope incident, he had, for some reason, expected that side of her to reveal itself. But it hadn't. And even worse, she had continued throwing the comebacks at him even more than usual. This had angered him. How dare she speak so about his father! If she only knew...

But of course, that was one reason she had also frightened him. He had seen within her, not only the ability to know things relating to school subjects, but the ability to just know in general. And the idea that anyone would ever find out any of his private thoughts and secrets,--especially a person such as Granger--frightened and angered him.

So he had kept his head down and ignored her for a while.

But Professor McGonagall had begun to lay the next layer over their brains, making sure to apply all information possibly to the thin layer of transfiguration knowledge already plastered to their brains. This had brought him misery beyond belief, and he had desperately urged Granger to accept his plea for help when he was at the brim of frustration and disaster.

It had worked out much better than he had expected, and the past week of secretly held study sessions with the bushy-haired prefect had truly helped his grades rise. Of course, they still called each other insults every once in a while, there was never a study session that didn't involve some yelling and of course they still called each other by surname.

Every once in a while, Draco couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to call her Hermione. He had even made a list of nicknames he could call her, if they ever happened to get that close: Herm, 'Mione, Hermi, Ermion, etc.

But then of course, he had become exasperated with himself and questioned why he'd even written it, and, after scribbling a quick journal entry he was also ashamed of on the back of the paper, he'd trashed it.

And meanwhile, his nightmares were getting worse.

~~*~~

"Yeah! Go Gryffindor! I'm glad you won the game, Harry. Feeling better about everything, now that you've won Slytherin in revenge for the last game?"

"Yeah, beating Malfoy was great."

"It was so funny, you shoulda seen his face when you grabbed it from behind his ear, Harry! You sure wiped the smirk off his face!"

Hermione glanced over toward the topic of conversation. Sitting at the foot of the bleachers, his head thrown back, his eyes closed, he suddenly reminded her of an angel decked with radiant emeralds. He almost seemed to...glow. She wondered why he was like this; Slytherin had lost the game, and Harry had humiliated him. But here he was sitting down, casual and seemingly unconscious of the world around him; it was the most relaxed she had ever seen Malfoy. He looked...handsome.

Brushing away such forbidden, unfamiliar thoughts, Hermione said, "I'll meet you at lunch in an hour, alright guys? I know a shortcut to the library, and besides, I need to get a drink of water. All that screaming of 'go Gryffindor' parched my throat."

Smiling at her and waving, Harry and Ron disappeared from sight as Hermione jogged away, towards the hidden passageway behind the bushes she had found. More than ever right now, she wanted to be away from all boys. And she needed to be all by herself, too. For the past few days, study sessions with Malfoy had stopped, since the vacation was coming up soon. Unlike most muggle schools, only one teacher piled work on them before Easter vacation, and that was Snape. For the past few days, she'd been avoiding Malfoy, wanting to spend time with some friends. Malfoy, of course, was not her friend. Or was he? No, of course not! He was just a...a study buddy of sorts.

Closing her eyes in an attempt to wish away the fact that Malfoy might spot her, she tripped over a tree root, and fell with a loud thump to the ground. "Ow!"

"Why, if it isn't the busy-body Granger. What have you been up to, to be rushing about enough to trip on your own feet?"

"Shut up, Malfoy! For your information, I am currently not busy the rest of today, and did not trip on my feet!"

Still lying on the ground, Hermione looked up. Malfoy stood above her, smirking.

Nervous about what more weird thoughts his presence might push upon her, Hermione was in a rush to get away from him. She attempted to get up, but fell back against the ground. Her muscles groaned from the constant running around from last week. And the jumping up and down during the Quidditch game too, of course. Her muscles were crying out for a stop to the action, her brain begged for release from being constantly wracked. The potions test tomorrow, however much she went over her notes and studied, was giving her so much stress. And, even if unnecessary, this stress was making her exhausted. Stress always did that to her. That's why she always tried her best to keep her cool no matter what. But now, being the busiest and most take-action prefect, stress seemed quite inevitable. Oh, how she'd love to sink into a soft, warm bed just now, and be able to relax her muscles and forget about all worries.

She was surprised, as she was vaguely, blearily aware of feeling a strong, larger hand grasp her own. Then, an arm wrapped firmly around her waist, and she let herself be heaved up to lean against something. Finally, a bed to lie upon. She wrapped her arms around her bed, and snuggled up more against her solid yet comfy pillow...What a second! How could she possibly wrap her arms around her bed? And why would a pillow be solid as well as comfy?

Reluctantly, her weakened legs and arms began to try to push her body weight upwards. But she was only half-awake. She moaned with exhaustion and frustration. Where was her real bed? What was this? "Ssshh, quiet, Granger. It's not like you're that much of a weight to me. I've thrown Crabbe and Goyle around before."

"Wha?...Aaa! Malfoy?!" Hermione sat up with a jolt, to find that her temporary 'bed' had been none other than a person, and the very one she hadn't wanted to bump into! "Oh, Malfoy, my god, I'm sorry, what was I doing, thinking, oh, help me, I n-" His hand was suddenly clamped over her mouth. "Don't make such a fuss, Granger. I'm returning you a favor for all the study sessions we did. They really helped my Transfiguration grades."

Hermione stared. Malfoy was thanking her? And he sounded honest, too!

But what had she been thinking, accepting the 'bed' that came to her, and then apologizing to him in the middle of hysterics? What was her world coming to? Everything and everyone she found familiar was falling away, while forbidden actions and thoughts were seeping into her life.

And she had actually enjoyed lying on him! Of course, she had thought he was a bed, but still! She should be revolted at the fact! And, she should never have started those studying sessions with him. They were making her sense of what and who were right and wrong go haywire. She was supposed to hate Malfoy! Why didn't she?

Hermione took a moment to study him, silently taking his hand off of her mouth. His face was smooth, with soft curves, seemingly gentle. Yet his eyes, and his usually ever-present haughty smirk betrayed his illusion of beguiling features. "Malfoy, you're...I mean, I'm beginning to...ah, never mind!" Before her thoughts turned back towards those frightening words attractive, clever, charming...kissable, she leaped away without another word and disappeared.