Summary:  Draco had a problem. A curly-haired, book reading, Gryffindor problem. A problem that smiled at him sweetly and knew exactly how he took his tea. A problem that, one day, steals his quidditch jersey and Draco decides he'd done keeping his problem a secret.

Draco had a problem. A curly haired, book reading, Gryffindor problem. It wasn't a new problem, though Draco wasn't sure that made it any better. The worst thing about his problem was that there seemed to be no escape from it. Dumbledore had most likely giggled to himself when deciding to make him and Granger head boy and girl because if anyone knew about Draco's problem, it would be the bearded bastard himself.

Granger was inescapable. She was absolutely everywhere and if Draco wasn't so fascinated by her, he would find her constant presence annoying. When he returned from classes in the evening, she was sitting on the sofa reading. When he decided to study, she joined him at the table.

And that wasn't all.

On the weekends, she liked to make tea and leave him a fresh cup with three spoons of honey, exactly how he liked it. After late afternoon quidditch practices, there would always be an apple on the table with a reminder to shower before patrol. On days like today, however, when he had practice in the morning because Potter couldn't be bothered to respect his usual field time, he was met with his favourite Granger habit.

"You know you can go to breakfast without me," he said, walking into the head's dormitory.

Granger looked up from the sofa and smiled.

"You won't eat if I do," she said. She set her book aside and pulled her knees to her chest, watching as he dropped his broomstick by the bookshelf and pulled off his gloves. "Besides, Ginny sleeps in too late and I don't like walking alone."

Draco rolled his eyes, but would never admit he liked it.

"I'm meeting Blaise after breakfast in the Slytherin common room, so you'll have to walk back alone," he told her, picking up the steaming cup of tea she'd left on their little table. "Whatever will you do?"

"I'll figure something out," she replied, smiling at him playfully. "Now go shower. You smell disgusting and I'm hungry."

Draco took his cup of tea upstairs with him, finishing it quickly as he was still rather cold from the early morning practice. He chucked his gloves on his bed and tugged off his jersey, throwing it somewhere on the floor before marching into the bathroom to turn on the hot water.

He showered quickly even though he knew Granger would wait no matter how long he took and when he stepped out, hardly five minutes had passed. He hastily pulled on a sweater and trousers before running a hand through his hair in an attempt to smooth it down. A few minutes later, he grabbed his wand and made his way down the stairs to meet Granger at the door.

The Great Hall was as empty as it usually was for breakfast on Saturday mornings. The quidditch team was all seated at the Slytherin table but aside from them, there was hardly anyone around.

"Oh, I see Luna," Granger said. Draco's eyes darted to the Ravenclaw table to see the blonde girl eating alone. "You'll be back this afternoon?"

"Yeah," Draco said with a nod. Granger gave him a small wave then darted off to join Lovegood for breakfast while Draco joined Blaise and the quidditch team.

Very pointedly ignoring Blaise's smirk as he sat down, Draco helped himself to the eggs and potatoes sitting in the center of the table. Fortunately for him, Blaise graciously left Draco alone until they walked through the doors of the Slytherin common room.

"How's our resident Gryffindor Princess?" he asked, dropping onto his bed while Draco sat at his old desk. "She looked just spiffy at breakfast."

"Quit," Draco told him. Blaise grinned.

"What? I can't comment on how excellent she looked wearing those yoga pants you dread so much?" Blaise teased. Draco glared at him but Blaise was unaffected. "I'm not hopelessly in love with her, but I do appreciate what those yoga pants do for her—"

Draco sent a curse at his bed post and the wood splintered, interrupting Blaise's sentence before he could finish.

"Are you done?" he demanded, leveling a glare at Blaise.

Blaise brushed wood chips off his lap and smiled contentedly.

"Yes, I believe so," he replied civilly.

"Good," Draco said shortly, "We have a potions assignment to work on and unlike you, I won't accept anything less than an O on it."

Blaise rolled his eyes and summoned his parchment and potions book to begin their report.

Many suggestive comments and spilled ink pots later, Draco was finally leaving the Slytherin dormitory and returning to the head's dorm. Ever since Blaise had realised Draco fancied Granger, he hadn't let Draco forget it. Studying with the git was almost always a nightmare.

Walking into the head's dorm, however, Draco almost fell over. He stopped in his tracks, letting the door swing shut behind him as he stared at Granger. She didn't seem to notice him until the door clicked shut, but he was too distracted by her shirt—HIS shirt—to care that he'd been caught staring.

"How's Zabini?" she asked, looking at him from the sofa.

"Granger," he said carefully, "Why are you wearing my jersey?"

Granger looked down as if only just noticing she was wearing it and shrugged.

"It's comfy."

She stood up and Draco sucked in a sharp breath as he realised there were only two options: one, she was not wearing pants at all; or two, she was wearing very short shorts that were hiding under the hem of his jersey.

"Are you wearing shorts?" he asked. His voice was a pitch too high but Granger didn't seem to notice.

"It's hot in here," she said defensively, gesturing to the fireplace in front of her.

"You can't just—" Draco broke off and groaned frustratedly. Merlin, did she have no idea what she put him through everyday? "Granger, you can't just wear my quidditch jersey."

"Why not?" she demanded, crossing her arms. The hem of the jersey moved up an inch and he could finally see the hem of her shorts.

"Because!" Draco exclaimed, struggling to come up with a better excuse as she insisted on standing in front of him wearing Slytherin green, something he hadn't imagined would make his problem worse. "Where'd you even get it?"

"Your room," she said, shrugging simply. "You weren't using it, so I took it."

Draco just stared at her. She was stupid. This! This was stupid. She'd gone into his room and taken his jersey off the floor? Stupid. Absolutely ridiculous. Unacceptable, even, because if she'd wanted to wear his jersey, he would have had it washed first.

"I was going to have it washed," he told her. She shrugged again. "You could have at least waited."

"But then I would have had to ask," she replied. Yes, that was true, Draco supposed. "And you would have gotten more flustered than you are now."

"I am not flustered," Draco denied immediately. Granger grinned and Draco scowled. "You're ridiculous. Do you steal everyone's clothing or am I the exception?"

"You're the exception," she said. She fiddled with the hem of the jersey and Draco was distracted by her legs and her lips all at once. "If you'd like, I can stop."

"Absolutely not," Draco said without thinking. Granger smirked and walked closer to him.

"Oh, so you don't mind me stealing your things?" she asked teasingly.

"Are Potter and Weasley going to hear about this? Is this a set-up?" Draco asked. There was no way Granger was teasing him like this without reason.

Her smile dropped and she let go of the hem of the jersey.

"You can just say you don't like me like that, Draco," she said. All of Draco's thought processes stopped. "You don't have to tease me about Harry and Ron."

"Like you like—Tease—What? What are you talking about?" Draco asked quickly. Granger looked upset and for the life of him, Draco couldn't figure out why or what had happened. Damn that jersey.

"Nevermind," Granger grumbled, turning to go back to the sofa. Draco snatched her arm, pulling her back so she couldn't skirt away.

"No, tell me what just happened," he said panickedly. Had she caught him staring and thought it was creepy? Merlin, if she told anyone he'd been staring at her legs like that, he'd be finished.

"You're a very confusing person, Draco Malfoy, but I like to think I understand you better than most," Granger said sharply, narrowing her eyes at him accusingly. "And I thought that maybe I wasn't just imagining the way you looked at me and maybe you liked me too, but clearly it was all a misunderstanding."

Oh. Oh, this was so much better than if she was tricking him or setting him up for one of the Dumb Duo's pranks. Unfortunately, he only seemed able to blink back and open his mouth uselessly instead of saying anything remotely intelligent.

She huffed and as an afterthought, she exclaimed, "Do you even like honey in your tea?"

"Of course I do, you make it perfectly," he told her. Her angry expression faded slightly and Draco tugged on her arm gently so she was forced to take a step closer. "You're smart, Granger," he told her, making her roll her eyes. "And you absolutely have not been imagining the looks or misunderstood anything."

He pulled her to his chest and she tilted her head to look up at him.

"Oh," she said simply, "Well, that's good I suppose."

Draco chuckled and let go of her arm to wrap one arm around her waist and thread his other hand through her hair.

"Yes, I suppose so," he said. He leaned down and when she didn't pull back, he took that as permission to press his lips to hers.

Granger immediately leaned into the kiss and Draco pulled her even closer. As she melted against him and opened her mouth, he slipped his hand just under the hem of the jersey and grinned at the goose bumps that spread across her back.

"Your hands are cold," Granger murmured, pulling away just long enough to talk.

Draco chased her lips with his own, swallowing her words. He'd stared at her lips and wondered what it would be like to kiss them long enough. Now that he could, he wasn't going to let her pull away so easily. He only stopped when it became necessary to breath again and even then, he didn't loosen his hold around Granger.

"You should wear my jersey more often," Draco muttered.

"Oh, do you like it?" Granger asked teasingly. Draco pressed a short, firm kiss to her lips and Granger laughed.

Yes. He liked it very much.