Hermione was firmly pressed, face-first, against the bathroom door, her hands magically pinned to the door above her head.

Draco's hard chest was pressed against the length of her back, and he was fucking her at an agonizingly slow rate. She could feel her core fluttering around him as he pressed slowly into her. Her fingers were scrabbling for something to hold as her entire body tensed around him. He gave a low hiss; the air ghosted across her over-sensitive glands and she gave a low whimper.

His hands slid along her body languorously, playing with her glands on her wrists until she was quivering and then slowly gliding down to palm her breasts and roll her nipples between his fingers. His thumb rubbed a soft circle against the tip of her nipple and her entire body tensed as if she'd been electrocuted.

"God!—" She shuddered and collapsed against the door.

Draco's lips pressed against the back of her neck and then down along her trapezius muscle as he used one arm to keep her legs from giving out beneath her.

"Mine," he said against her shoulder, breathing deeply against her skin. "You're mine."

She felt him open his mouth and catch her shoulder between his teeth. His upper incisors dragged against her scent glands.

Hermione gave a guttural scream and her entire body tensed and nearly spasmed around him. Her forehead smacked sharply on the door and she winced, squeezing her eyes tightly closed.

"God!! Bloody—fuck—Draco—please."

"Please what?" Draco rolled his hips and drove into her again. She could hear the smirk in his voice.

She swallowed. "Please—"

Bite me. Please bite me. Bite me. Please.

"Please—," she dropped her head against the door and drew a ragged breath as she tried to remember how to form a sentence.

Draco's cock withdrew and then pressed slowly into her again until she gasped and made an utterly incoherent noise.

"Please, Alpha," she half-whimpered. "I need you."

"You need to be more specific." Draco's tongue slid down the shell of her ear, catching a drop of water from the lobe.

Her hair was dripping wet.

They'd been taking an evening shower. She'd been giving him a very, very extended blow job and getting just ridiculously horny in the process when he'd lost patience. Admittedly, he had asked her to get up and let him shag her five times before he'd finally dragged her out of the shower, snatched up his wand, and then magicked her wrists to the door.

"You are the most uncooperative witch," he'd muttered into her ear as his fingers had slid into her core and she gave a low moan.

"What? Do you want me docile?" she'd asked, her voice thick with arousal as she twisted her wrists slightly to determine what charm he'd used to trap her.

"Never," he'd said as he withdrew his fingers. He gave a low groan, aligned his cock with her sex, and slowly sheathed himself inside her.

Well, if he didn't want her docile, he certainly hadn't seemed to mind her threatening, indignant, exhorting, cajoling, whimpering, and finally begging as he had fucked her the exact edge of an orgasm and then intently kept her there for what felt like an eternity.

Draco brushed his lips against her glands and the skin across her entire body prickled.

"Is there something specific you wanted, Hermione?"

Bite me. Bite me. Bite me.

Hermione dropped her head against the door until she felt his fingertips tracing along the underside of breasts. She trembled at his touch and gave a despairing moan.

"God, Draco, please"—bite me—" let me come," she said in a pleading tone.

Draco paused, and she could feel his mouth curve into a smirk against her shoulder. "When someone asks very nicely for something, the polite thing to do would be listen to them rather than raise your eyebrows and ignore their request five times in a row. Don't you think?"

Hermione ground her jaw; her entire body was shaking.

"I—didn't have you stuck to the door." She forced the words out.

Draco's fingers had moved down and were drawing light circles across her pelvis. Her clit was throbbing, and her inner-walls fluttered around him as she turned to molten liquid inside.

"I don't recall hearing you object to it at any time."

Hermione pressed her lips together. Fair point.

She swallowed, and her voice crept up into a soft, cajoling register. "Please, Draco, please let me come. Please, Alpha."

Draco rolled his hips and tangled a hand in her wet hair in order to draw her head back and drag his teeth along her jaw. "You are a good girl, and you do ask so nicely."

Hermione shivered and keened as Draco thrust quicker and harder. His mouth was burning hot, and he sucked hard on her glands as his knot began expanding. He shifted back in order to avoid knotting inside her.

"Alpha, Alpha, please," she chanted as he drove into her, hard.

Bite me. She bit her lip to keep the words from slipping out.

"Come for me." His hand was between her legs, and he barely had to touch her before she shattered.

Her legs gave out as her climax struck her with a vengeance. She collapsed against the door. Draco muttered the counter-charm; her hands came free from the door a moment before his hips began jerking in a sharp repetition.

He crushed her against his chest and dragged his teeth against her shoulder with a ragged growl. 

As she felt him come, a second orgasm hit her like a tidal wave. The intensity and buildup were overwhelming as it tore through her until she felt as though she were falling apart.

She gasped and shuddered in Draco's arms and then burst into tears.

Not again.

Good grief. It was getting absurd the amount she cried.

She gave a huffing moan of frustration and tried to scrub the tears away as she sobbed her way through her climax.

It was fortunate that Draco was unphased by her tears. He always just hugged her and went on and on about how much he liked her until she stopped bawling. She'd been crying even more than usual during the last week.

She braced a hand against the door and sobbed.

"Fuck—"

She found herself abruptly turned and gathered against Draco's chest as he peppered kisses across her face.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have—fuck. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Hermione blinked confusedly through her tears and studied Draco. He was usually collected when she cried, but that didn't appear to be the case this time. His expression was horrified.

Hermione choked back her sobs and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"It's fine—It's fine, Draco." She hiccuped the words and pressed herself against him.

He shook his head sharply and wrapped his arms tightly around her. "No. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have trapped your hands, and I shouldn't have had my teeth anywhere near your glands. I should have asked. I'm so sorry. I'll never do it again, I swear. I'm so sorry."

He was breathing as though he were about to have a panic attack.

Oh god. He'd thought she was crying because he'd scared her.

Hermione hugged him more tightly until her chest stopped stuttering and then sat back and caught his face in her hands, staring up into his eyes.

"Draco, it was just intense. I'm fine. You didn't scare me. You didn't do anything I didn't like. You used a first year sticking charm on me, you dolt, I was perfectly aware of how to counter it."

"Still—,"

Hermione crushed his mouth against hers until he stopped trying to talk.

She withdrew and pressed their foreheads together.

"Draco—you have been so careful. You haven't done anything I haven't liked, and you've always given me plenty of opportunity to back out of things if I wanted to. You didn't use an Alpha tone. It was easier for me to get my hands free from that charm that if you'd been holding them there. It was just intense. You didn't scare me or upset me at all. I promise. That was actually rather fun. I'm just crying a lot lately."

He studied her face carefully. "If I ever do anything you don't want, tell me."

"I will. I'm not docile, remember?" She gave him a cheeky smile.

He smiled wanly back.

She looked down at the absolute mess of fluid between them. "Come on, let's finish our shower."

He followed her, but he was subdued no matter what Hermione did to try to cheer him up. 

After they finished showering, and she had toweled her hair dry and dressed, she started gathering up all her homework. It was scattered messily across the coffee table and couch.

"This is one of yours," Draco said quietly, not looking at her as he held out a scroll with a St Mungo's insignia on the side.

Hermione took it, averting her eyes. "Right. Thanks."

After Harry and Ron's visit, she'd told Draco she was going through the interview process with St Mungo's. She'd framed it as simply an option she wanted to know more about, without mentioning all the potential side effects of going through with it.

Draco had been very quiet and avoided looking at her as she finished explaining.

"Well, if that's what you want to do," was all he said.

Then he'd avoided the subject entirely, aside from a few extremely terse obligatory acknowledgements.

She packed the scroll in her satchel to mail in the morning.

"You know, I'm still going to date you, even if you aren't an Omega anymore," Draco said abruptly. "I liked you before you were an Omega, and I'm still going to like you if you aren't one."

Hermione almost dropped her bag, and looked up at him, startled.

Draco was staring at her from across the room, his jaw set and his expression obstinate, but when she met his eyes, they immediately dropped and his cheeks stained scarlet. "Unless—unless you didn't want me to. In which case—of course, I'll leave you alone—"

Hermione's heart did a funny somersault and then seemed to fracture inside her chest.

"Draco—I'm not doing this because I'm trying to find an out. I just—I get worried if I don't prepare for other possibilities. What if—," she shifted and swallowed. "What if we break up and I don't have any other choices lined up and it's near graduation? What if you wanted to—end things, but felt like you couldn't because—" she gestured helplessly around herself. "I don't want you to feel like you're stuck—that just because you liked me at one point. Us dating shouldn't be an ultimatum. I don't want to assume—I don't want to be short-sighted because I'm hormonal. You know?"

Draco sighed and looked sharply away from her. "I know. Rationally, I get it. I know why you feel like you need to. But—biologically, I—you don't—" He cut off for several seconds and rolled his jaw as though he were trying out the shape of various words.

He drew a short, angry breath. "I can't explain this right now. I need a walk."

He stalked out of the room without another word.

Hermione stood uncertainly, staring at the door for a minute before she pulled out the Marauder's Map.

She just wanted to make sure he was alright.

She watched as he wandered through the castle on his own for several minutes. His path seemed fairly aimless. Then—her mouth pursed, he ran into Daphne Greengrass. Hermione watched the two dots pause, separate, and then draw closer again. She kept waiting for them to part ways, but after a minute, the two of them turned and proceeded together to the the dungeons and into the Slytherin Common room.

Hermione stared at the map in disbelief as Draco's name got lost among all the other Slytherin names, popping up and then disappearing among all the other dots, often beside Daphne's name, but, as the minutes ticked by, increasingly next to Astoria's.

After half an hour, Hermione threw the map across the room and stomped around, angrily stuffing her remaining homework into her satchel.

It was probably nothing. It was nothing. There was a party in the Slytherin common room. It was a Saturday night. Of course Draco would go.

There was nothing to be upset or worried about it.

Even if she and Draco had had a bit of a fight. A fight that he'd stormed out of and then walked straight into the arms of a girl who had been aggressively pursuing him all year.

Hermione's stomach was burning, and she swallowed.

Really, where did Daphne and Astoria Greengrass get off?

Her fingertips sparked slightly, and she ran her fingers through her hair.

Maybe she'd go down to the dungeons.

No. It was nothing.

Draco liked her, which was why he was upset. He wouldn't—

He wouldn't. So there was no reason to even think about it.

He just needed space. Following him would be clingy. Omega-ish.

She wasn't going to go trailing after a boy after he was the one who stomped off.

He'd come back.

She hugged herself. Maybe she'd go and hang out in the Gryffindor common room for a while. She hadn't been there much since she and Draco had started dating. So—maybe she'd go see her friends too.

She eyed the door without moving.

He might come back. They had been planning to spend the evening together because they hadn't in three days. She'd had Astronomy one night, and then rounds the next night, and then he'd had Astronomy, so they'd wrapped up most of their homework early Saturday so they could have a long evening together without needing to worry they were falling behind on any final assignments.

Then she'd ruined it by crying, and then she'd ruined it more by leaving her questionnaire from St Mungo's out.

He'd probably come back in a little while.

She curled into a tight ball in bed and read her Transfiguration textbook for the next semester.

Her eyes were drooping, and it was well past midnight when the door clicked. She looked up sharply as Draco stepped in.

His hair was tousled and the top button of his shirt undone. His expression was very visibly relaxed.

Hermione stared at him, wordless.

"Sorry. Christmas party in the Slytherin Common room, I'd forgotten about it," Draco said, making his way carefully over to the bed. "You didn't need to wait up."

Hermione's mouth twitched. She didn't point out that she couldn't sleep without him. She just closed her book and put it aside.

He looked drunk. She'd never seen him drunk before, but she was certain based on his expression, the odd way he was walking, and the overly-precise way he was speaking.

He dropped down heavily onto the bed without removing his robes. He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her over as though she were a pillow.

He buried his face in her shoulder. "Fuck, you smell amazing. No one smells as good as you. I hate peaches."

Hermione twitched. "Smelling a lot of witches tonight?"

"Hard not to—at a Christmas party," he muttered against her skin.

"Oh."

Images of a mistletoe bedecked Slytherin common room flashed before her eyes.

She rested a hand on his shoulder and sniffed at him surreptitiously. He mostly smelled like firewhisky. She didn't think she smelled any perfume. At least there wasn't any in his hair, but her nose wasn't nearly as keen as his. She caught a whiff of something, and her eyebrows furrowed.

"Draco—did you go outside?"

"Hmm?" He seemed to have been dozing off. "Mhmm. On the way back. I needed to post something."

"You went to the Owlery past curfew?" The astonishment in her tone was overt.

"Owls are nocturnal, Granger." His snide tone cut through the slurring in his voice. "I wasn't alone. Blaise, Daph, and Astoria came with me."

"Daphne was trying to wrangle an invitation for herself and Astoria to Malfoy Manor during the holidays."

Hermione suddenly felt as though her stomach had shrunk out of existence. "Oh."

She still hadn't asked him about whether he'd stay with her during her heat. She kept meaning to—she kept telling herself she was going to—

She kept putting it off.

She'd planned to bring it up that evening, but then he'd left.

She kept avoiding it. She trusted Draco; she liked Draco, but the last heat still felt raw.

There were ways she felt she still hadn't recovered from the two months of emotional devastation that had followed it, and lately the craving to soulbond was becoming an obsession.

She knew it was just biological, but her emotions didn't care.

She'd bitten her tongue repeatedly during the last week in particular in order to stop herself from asking—urging—begging him to bite her.

There was a part of her that was intensely set on it. As though everything wrong in her entire life would be instantly solved. If he bit her now, and then he bit her when she was heat, nothing bad would ever happen to her again.

That was how it felt.

No matter how much she argued with herself on the point, she was mentally attuned to the idea in a fundamental, unshakeable, undisuadable level. 

Thinking about going into heat, and then emerging from heat still unbound felt like clawing at an exposed nerve.

Then again in March.

And again in June.

She didn't want to go into heat again. Even if it would be better. Even if Draco didn't disappear and abandon her afterward.

She didn't want to go through it at all.

She could feel her body readying for it. Her hormones were spiking. Her curves, which had already been getting somewhat unmanageable, had gotten more so. She'd gone up a cup size in the last week. Draco had started stalking her through the castle like an ominous bodyguard, and Theo, and Neville, and the rest of the Alphas currently refused to be anywhere near her, although she'd notice their eyes grow dark the second she walked into a classroom.

It wasn't the dazed look any longer. It was hunger.

Her heat was coming, and her biology was already aggressively signaling it to any Alphas nearby.

She would probably need to be quarantined already if it weren't for Draco—who had abruptly grown even taller and more muscular. The skinny, pointiness had long vanished. He was nearly a foot and a half taller than her, and his physique had moved beyond fit and into the realm of being built like a bloody barn door. It seemed unreasonable for anyone to have so much tautly-defined muscle mass.

Neville looked thin and malnourished by comparison, and Beta males seemed almost worryingly small to Hermione.

None of the books referenced secondary Alpha growth spurts, Hermione suspected it was related to the fact they were in a relationship but not bound; his magi-biology just kept trying to heighten his traits.

If they delayed bonding indefinitely, did that mean he'd just keep growing and she'd keep getting curvier and curvier forever?

The bizarre traits of Alpha-Omega biological dynamics seemed like an inadvisable thing to test or experiment with any further.

Hermione was fairly certain that was a rational conclusion. However, her subconscious immediately pivoted from her scientific and ethical concerns and transitioned them to the secondary conclusion of: "bite me, bite me, bite me, Alpha."

They'd only been dating a month. A month. She kept reminding herself. At this time the previous year, they'd been on opposite sides in a war.

It was—she was quite sure—extremely hormonal and immature to even entertain the idea of soulbonding after only dating a boy for a month.

It was.

So they couldn't. They hadn't talked about it. They'd tried to focus on school and getting to know each other.

They hadn't even talked about her heats. Draco hadn't made any reference or allusion to his presence or lack thereof during her upcoming heat.

Surely he had to be aware. He wouldn't plan to go spend the Christmas holidays at Malfoy Manor with the Greengrasses. He liked her, and biologically speaking he wasn't capable of not wanting to be there.

He must be waiting for her to bring it up.

She bit her lip and then hesitated.

She closed her eyes. She could do this. She ask her boyfriend about his holiday plans. It was an entirely reasonable question. She was a Gryffindor, and this was one of the least scary things she'd ever done.

Her eyes suddenly snapped open, and it occurred to her that at that particular moment her boggart probably was Draco breaking up with her.

"Draco, are you staying at Hogwarts for the holidays?" she blurted.

There was a resounding silence.

It felt like her heart stalled for the entirety of it.

Draco didn't say anything.

Hermione swallowed.

"Draco?" She tilted her head to try to see his expression.

He was asleep.

She let out a small gasp of disbelief.

"Draco?"

Nothing.

"Draco—I need to ask you something. Draco?" She pulled at his shoulder and touched his face but he didn't respond.

She tried to wake him two more times before giving up.

She withdrew her hand and stared up at the ceiling, trying to think while her heart continued pounding. Given how drunk he'd seemed, talking about it tomorrow morning probably would be inadvisable. Maybe after lunch she could find a point to ask him in private. She'd promised to study Transfiguration with Ginny during the afternoon. Maybe the conversation with Draco wouldn't be very long. Alternatively she could wait until evening.

She'd ask him tomorrow afternoon or in the evening. She promised herself she would.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders until she could feel his body heat through his clothes.

She woke up before Draco. She was positive there would be no sex that morning. He'd been really drunk. Considering how heavily he'd slept, she was certain he was going to have a massive hangover.

She slipped out from under him and took a quick shower. When she was dressed, she headed into the bedroom and found Draco semi-awake, his arm slung over his eyes.

"Do you need me to get a hangover potion for you?" she asked from across the room.

He moved his head slightly. "I'll get one from Blaise. I forgot last night." He peeked under his forearm at her. "You're heading out?"

His voice was thick and scratchy. Hermione conjured a glass of water and brought it over and placed it on the table next to him.

"I have some things to put in the post," she said without meeting his eyes.

She saw his jaw twitch.

"I've also got a couple books that are due at the library, I figured I should return them early so the next person in the queue can pick it up today."

"Sorry—I'm not up for anything this morning. I'll catch you later." He shifted and grimaced. "If you'll wait—I'll get up in a minute."

Hermione shook her head. "Don't. I'm fine. I'll see you at breakfast or after. I'm studying with Ginny this afternoon, I think I mentioned it."

He moved his head incrementally in acknowledgment.

Hermione licked her lips. "I'll see you later then."

She turned on her heel and headed out. Her eyes were pricking, and she didn't even know why. Bloody hormones.

She walked quickly to the Owlery. As she sent the school owls off with her post, she noticed that Draco's eagle owl was absent. If it hadn't returned, that meant the letter Draco had sent had probably been sent to Malfoy Manor.

She turned away and headed to the library.

When she reached the Great Hall, Draco was already at the Slytherin table with Blaise, Theo, Pansy, and Daphne.

Her jaw twitched and she hurried over to the Gryffindor table.

Ginny was already there, blurry-eyed. "You missed the Christmas party at a Gryffindor."

Hermione blinked. "Oh, that was last night too."

Ginny bobbed her head. "Last Saturday before the holidays. God, Seamus talked me into trying some vile concoction after we sent the younger years to bed. I'm not even sure what was real and what I hallucinated. I think someone conjured a lion, but I'm still questioning it."

Hermione raised her eyebrows and avoided looking toward the Slytherin table. "Sounds like I missed quite the party."

"Were you at the Slytherin party?" Ginny glanced over and put down her knife, focussing her entire attention on Hermione.

"No. I was doing homework. I wasn't—really in the mood for something social last night."

"Right. You're coming up on your—" Ginny raised her eyebrows indicatively.

Hermione nodded.

"That's got to be rough. Well, I mean, Neville can't even look at you right now. And am I imagining it? Because I swear Malfoy has gotten bulkier in the last week. I've never seen anything like him. He looks like he could take down a centaur with his bare hands."

Ginny cast an appreciative glance toward Slytherin.

Hermione's hold on her spoon tightened, and her jaw twitched. She found herself fondly remembering the time she bit Ginny in the hospital wing. She blinked.

"I thought you didn't like Draco," she said in a tense voice.

"Disliking him, and noticing that he looks like a character on the cover of a romance novel are not mutually exclusive," Ginny said with a lofty tone. "Besides, Malfoy's not the only one bursting at the seams. Are you paying your blouse buttons overtime?"

Hermione looked down and noticed that the buttons over her bust did indeed look to be on the verge of popping off and blinding someone. She hastily pulled her robes closed.

She swallowed. "I think it's related to me. Since we're not—bound, my theory is that the magic is amplifying, trying to increase the biological imperative."

Ginny's eyes widened. "Oh god. So—does that mean?"

Hermione stared at her oatmeal. "I don't know. I was going to bring it up to Draco last night, but we had a fight and he ended up walking out."

Ginny was silent for a long time. "Did you break up?" she said gently.

Hermione's throat felt tight. "No. He came back five hours later, really drunk from the Slytherin Christmas party. He was hungover this morning. So—I'm going to talk to him later today, I think."

"Ah. Do you want to cancel on this afternoon? I've got this Transfiguration stuff, you don't need to."

"No. It's fine. It's been on my schedule for this weekend, so he probably has his own plans. I'll catch him before or after." Hermione's eyes had wandered back to the Slytherin table, where Draco was seated next to Daphne.

Her appetite for breakfast was suddenly gone, and she glowered across the room until she felt her hair crackle.

"Hermione."

"Hermione."

Ginny poked her on the shoulder.

Hermione glanced over. "What?"

"Are you alright? You look like you're trying to burn a hole in Daphne Greengrass' head."

Hermione looked back across the Great Hall. "She's sitting with Draco."

Ginny snorted. "She is sitting next to Draco and Zabini. Hermione—Malfoy is completely obsessed with you. He's looked over at you like thirty times, and you haven't even noticed because you're glaring at Daphne." Ginny rested a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "I think you're very hormonal right now, and it's making you self-conscious. You should probably talk to Malfoy."

"I am. I'm going to." Hermione's throat suddenly felt parched, and she poured herself a glass of pumpkin juice. "Rationally I get it—I know I'm being—" she drew a sharp breath. "There's this part of me that feels like if that conversation doesn't go well, I'm just going to lose it. I keep feeling like if I just give myself more time to think about it, I'll be in a better place. Instead I'm just crying more and more."

"I think waiting is the wrong thing to be doing."

"Really? I hadn't considered that," Hermione said in a vicious voice.

Ginny was silent for several seconds. "I—can't believe I'm the one saying this, but maybe you two should consider bonding this Christmas."

Hermione looked sharply at Ginny, who shrugged.

"I don't think you're supposed to be tampering with the biology the way you two are. The fact you aren't bonding seems to be messing with things—a lot. We've read all the literature that has any resemblance to your situation. There's no precedent for a relationship like yours without bonding. No one has ever done that. Not anywhere, not ever. It can't possibly be healthy. I mean, I don't think you can make it to July to get an ovariectomy. I wouldn't be surprised if St Mungo's knows that and that's why the application process is so long."

The thought had occurred to Hermione, but hearing Ginny voice the same suspicion was like being slapped in the face.

Her lips twitched as she watched Daphne nudge Draco playfully.

"We—we've only been dating a month, Ginny," she said as she imagined herself stabbing Daphne repeatedly with her fork. "We haven't even talked about bonding."

"Well, maybe you should. You two are playing with fiendfyre. I don't like Malfoy, I'd prefer he not be your future spouse or whatever you decide to call him, but you're clearly not interested in considering any other Alpha options and 'Don't mess around with bonding Magic' is a pretty basic rule in the Wizarding world. I'm sure Malfoy knows that, so—he's probably waiting for you to—come around or whatever it is you're still working through."

Hermione swallowed. "Maybe you're right. I—"

Her train of thought ended as the room was filled with the sound of fluttering wings and the Great Hall filled with descending owls.

Draco's eagle owl soared down to the Slytherin table carrying a large package. Draco's eyes brightened, and he looked visibly eager as he fed his owl a sausage and removed a large envelope. He flicked it open and quickly skimmed the contents.

He smirked and then handed the letter to Daphne, whose expression was overtly excited as she snatched the paper from Draco and read it.

While Daphne was reading, Draco started unwrapping the package. It was carefully wrapped in several layers of heavy paper.

Hermione watched carefully as Draco pulled away the last layer of wrapping. Her heart was pounding so rapidly she could barely hear anything.

It was book.

It was an absolutely beautiful book.

Even across the hall she could see that it was a gorgeous. Dark green leather with gilded tooling across the cover that glittered in the light.

Her fingers twitched with a desire to touch it.

Draco opened it and slowly flipped through several pages. The way he was handling the book indicated that the book had to be priceless. He was entirely absorbed by the contents.

After several minutes, he closed it carefully and seemed to be showing everyone else around him. Draco's expression was smug, and everyone else seemed admiring—except Daphne who appeared to be rendered speechless.

Daphne reached a tentative hand toward the book, and the air around Hermione vibrated. Daphne withdrew her hand and just kept staring at the book.

Hermione breathed a small sigh of relief. The book did not appear to be intended for Daphne.

Maybe—maybe the book was a Christmas present for Hermione.

Not that she was assuming it. But it was possible.

A book would be the sort of present Draco might give her, and normally he told her when he wrote home for books. So—maybe.

Of course she wasn't assuming, maybe he just needed an additional reference for an essay.

Draco stood up from the table, grinning crookedly, picked up the book, and slipped it under his arm.

Since the owl had arrived, he hadn't glanced in Hermione's direction.

He walked down the table and then stopped—

—behind Astoria Greengrass.

Hermione stopped breathing.

Draco reached out and touched Astoria on the shoulder. Astoria turned and then quickly stood to face him.

Draco smirked and appeared to say something before he pulled the book from under his arm and held it out to her.

Astoria stared with the same expression of wonder Daphne had exhibited. Then her hands darted up to cover her mouth. She appeared to be on the verge of tears. Draco blushed and smiled at her before extending the book again.

Astoria's whole body shook, and she suddenly jumped forward and threw herself into his arms.

Draco's eyes widened with astonishment as he gripped the book and caught Astoria. He looked uncertain and hesitated for several seconds before he wrapped his arm around Astoria's shoulders, a genuine grin on his face.

There was a cracking sound, and all the glassware in the Great Hall simultaneously shattered.