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Do you know that feeling when you’re completely, utterly in love, but you know for a fact that it will never be anything more than what it is – just a crush?
That was what it was like for Draco Malfoy.
Every time he saw her, his heart would hammer against his ribs. He couldn’t think about anything else all day. Every thought circled back to her, every movement in the room seemed to somehow orient itself around her.
Wicked tongues might have called it an obsession.
And well.
Draco could hardly argue with that.
Especially not after Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini decided to stage an intervention for him on his birthday.
In the library.
“A what?”
“An intervention,” Theo repeated patiently.
“You’re obsessed.”
“I’m not obsessed.”
Theo pulled out a piece of parchment.
Draco closed his eyes briefly.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Theo.”
Reasons Draco Malfoy needs help
“This is ridiculous.”
“Is it?” Theo asked.
He cleared his throat and started reading.
“Point one: knows Granger’s timetable by heart.”
“Everyone knows her timetable.”
“No.”
“Point two: knows which tea she prefers.”
“I don’t know that.”
“Chamomile with honey.”
Draco went quiet.
“Point three: once took three flights of stairs out of the way just to bump into her.”
“That was a coincidence.”
“Three times in a row?”
“A statistical coincidence.”
Blaise let his head fall back against the armchair.
“Merlin, he’s more hopeless than I thought.”
Draco was about to respond.
But at that exact moment, Hermione Granger walked through the library, straight past them, her nose buried in a book.
“Point four: he knows Granger’s favourite spot in the library.”
She took a seat in the back left corner.
“Not her favourite spot. Her second favourite. The favourite one is taken.”
Theo closed his eyes.
“There. That’s exactly what I mean.”
Draco watched her sit down near the window.
The golden afternoon light caught her hair as she turned a page.
Something tightened painfully in his chest.
Not the frantic heart-racing his friends always joked about.
Something heavier.
Quieter.
Because he knew.
He really did know.
Hermione Granger would probably never feel the same way about him.
To her, he was just Draco Malfoy. Ex-Death Eater. Classmate, if he's Lucky enough.
“We’re worried about you,” Theo said.
“Why?”
“Because you’re pathetic.”
“Thanks.”
*
That evening, Theo apparently decided that Draco’s birthday called for a full-scale party.
The eighth-year common room was packed.
Music, voices, Butterbeer, Firewhisky.
Draco stood against the wall.
Hermione wasn’t there.
At first, he didn’t care.
Then it started to matter more.
Later, he started glancing at the door occasionally. Purely by accident.
“Stop that.”
Theo appeared beside him.
“Stop what?”
“Looking at the door.”
“I’m not looking at the door.”
“You’ve looked at it seven times in the last ten minutes.”
Draco took a sip of Firewhiskey.
“Maybe I’m expecting someone.”
“You’re expecting Granger.”
Draco said nothing.
Which was answer enough.
The hours passed.
People came. People left.
Hermione didn’t appear.
And at some point, hope turned into something far more stupid.
Expectation.
Then disappointment.
Then that embarrassing feeling you only get when you’ve convinced yourself of something you really should have known better than to believe.
Maybe he really had thought she would come.
Maybe a part of him had hoped she would remember his birthday.
Draco set his glass down.
“I’m going to bed.”
“It’s not even midnight.”, Theo said.
“So?”
“You’ve just turned nineteen.”
“Tragic.”
“Draco.”
“Goodnight.”
This time, no one stopped him.
Maybe because they all realised he didn’t want company.
Maybe because even Theo knew when a joke had run its course.
*
The corridors were almost empty.
Only the wall torches flickered over the stone floor.
Then someone turned the corner.
Draco stopped.
So did Hermione.
For a moment, they just looked at each other.
“Malfoy.”
“Granger.”
Hermione frowned.
“Are you leaving already?”
To his surprise, she smiled.
Then she lifted the small parcel in her hands.
“I was actually looking for you.”
His heart stopped for a second.
“For me?”
Brilliant.
Really brilliant.
Of all possible responses, he had gone with the stupidest one. Hermione didn’t seem to notice.
“Yes. I was still in the library and completely lost track of time.”
He wasn’t sure he was breathing.
Then she held the parcel out to him.
“Happy birthday.”
He stared at it.
Then at her.
Then back at the parcel.
“You got me something?”
“No, I stole it.”
“Granger.”
“Yes, I bought it.”
The corners of her mouth twitched.
“Open it.”
Carefully, Draco unwrapped the paper.
Inside was a simple Honeydukes box.
For a moment, he didn’t even understand what he was looking at.
Then he opened it.
Sugar quills.
Not just any.
Blackcurrant flavour.
His favourite.
The one Honeydukes only stocked irregularly, usually selling out within days.
Draco blinked.
Once.
Twice.
“How did you know that?”
Hermione looked genuinely confused.
“What?”
“That I like these.”
“Oh.”
She shrugged slightly.
“You buy them all the time.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Draco was fairly sure his brain had stopped working entirely.
“I buy them all the time?”
“Yes.”
“And you know that?”
Now she looked at him like he was the strange one.
“Of course I do.”
Of course.
As if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
As if it were normal to notice things like that.
As if it were normal to notice him at all.
Draco stared down at the box in his hands.
The sugar quills probably didn’t even cost two Sickles.
And yet it suddenly felt like the most expensive thing he had ever been given.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
Quieter than he meant to.
Hermione’s expression softened.
“You’re welcome.”
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Torchlight flickered along the walls.
Distant music drifted from the common room.
Hermione gestured at the box.
“Try one.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now.”
Draco pulled one out and bit into it.
Hermione watched him expectantly.
“Do you like it?”
“This is the best present I’ve had today.”
Only after he said it he realised how it sounded.
Hermione’s eyes widened slightly.
Draco immediately wanted the floor to swallow him whole.
Then she smiled.
Small.
Soft.
“Good.”
Hermione tugged nervously at her sleeve.
“I should go back.”
The corridor suddenly felt emptier.
Ridiculous.
She hadn’t even left yet.
“Yes,” Draco said. “Probably.”
She nodded.
But didn’t move.
“Right then.”
“Right then.”
A few steps.
Then—
“Granger?”
She stopped.
Slowly turned back.
“Yes?”
Draco looked down at the box.
At the sugar quills.
At the fact she had actually come.
At the fact she had thought of him at all.
“Thank you.”
Hermione’s expression softened.
“No need.”
“Yes.”
He shook his head.
For a moment, she didn’t say anything.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t come?”
Draco let out a short laugh.
No humour in it.
Which was answer enough.
Hermione studied him for a few seconds.
Then she crossed her arms.
“Malfoy.”
“Hmm?”
“You’re remarkably stupid sometimes.”
Draco blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“You honestly think I’d spend hours finding a birthday present and then not show up?”
“You did that?”
“That’s not the point.”
“You spent hours?”
“Malfoy.”
Now she smiled, but it was small.
Almost helpless.
Like she couldn’t quite believe the conversation either.
“You’re not very good at noticing what’s right in front of you.”
Draco immediately thought of Theo.
Of Blaise.
Of the intervention.
Of the list.
Apparently, today was the international day of people telling him he was an idiot.
On his birthday.
“That’s been said to me a surprising number of times recently.”
Hermione laughed.
And suddenly he realised how close she was.
Close enough to see the gold flecks in her eyes.
Close enough to forget how to think properly.
Her smile faded slightly.
Not completely.
Just enough.
“Then maybe you should start listening.”
“And what exactly am I missing?”
For a moment, she just looked at him.
Then she shook her head slightly.
“Unbelievable.”
“Granger—”
“You’ve been staring at me for months.”
Draco froze.
Completely.
“I—”
“In the library.”
“…“
“At breakfast.”
“…“
“In class.”
“…“
“You’re not subtle.”
“I’ve been told.”
“Theo?”
“Theo.”
Hermione laughed so hard she had to cover her mouth.
“That’s not funny.”
“It is.”
“It’s awful.”
“A bit.”
He wanted the ground to open up.
Preferably immediately.
Hermione stepped a fraction closer.
Her smile faded properly now.
“Happy Birthday, Draco.”
For the first time that evening, she said his first name.
And before his brain could catch up, she rose onto her toes and kissed him.
A short, warm kiss.
Just long enough for him to be certain it wasn’t his imagination.
When she pulled back, she looked almost as surprised as he felt.
“Oh.”
Draco was fairly sure that was the most embarassing thing he had ever said.
Hermione grinned.
“Yes. Oh.”
Then she turned and walked down the corridor.
This time, for real.
And Draco was left standing there.
With a box of sugar quills in his hand.
And it might just have been the best birthday he’d ever had.