Peanut Butter and Jelly

Draco couldn't sleep. He had skipped dinner that evening and his stomach was not allowing him to forget it. He sighed and swung his legs off the bed. There was nothing for it. He would just have to go to the kitchens and get something to eat. He changed out of his pajamas and into a pair of black trousers and a gray cashmere sweater. He was not about to be caught dead walking around the castle in his pj's.

As Draco made his way through the corridors, he thought about what kind of food he would demand from the house-elves. He stopped in front of the large painting of fruit and tickled the pear. As he pulled open the door, he grinned to himself and...

...stopped dead in his tracks.

What was she doing here? She was the last person he wanted to bump into. Well, no. Weasley would surely be the last.

Hermione looked up from the bread she was slicing and frowned.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Granger. Why does anyone go to the kitchens? I thought you were supposed to be smart," he drawled.

She deepened her frown. "Shove off, Malfoy!"

Draco moved forward to stand across the table from her. He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.

"I hate the way you always call me Malfoy."

"Everyone calls you Malfoy, Malfoy. That's your name," she said, looking confused.

"Yes, but it's the way you say it though. Malfoy. Malfoy. To rhyme with scum."

She stared at him in disbelief for a moment and then burst out laughing. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"What's so funny?"

"You," she gasped, clutching her stomach. "You are."

To Draco's surprise, he found his lips quirking up into what threatened to be a smile of his own. He looked around for something to distract him from her laughing eyes and his increasing urge to join in on her mirth. His gaze fell on to her outfit. She obviously had no qualms about wandering around in her pajamas. Not that what she was wearing could be called pajamas. She was standing there in an over-sized, white T-shirt that came down to her mid-thighs and fuzzy, white slippers. A pink, fluffy bathrobe draped loosely over the ensemble, hanging open in the front. She seemed to sense his eyes on her and pulled the bathrobe tighter around her, suddenly self-conscious. Draco tore his eyes from her body and looked down at the table.

"What on earth are you eating, Granger?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

Hermione glanced down at the items spread out on the table. There was a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, a jar of strawberry jam and a butter knife.

"Peanut butter and jelly sandwich," she stated as though it were the most obvious thing ever.

"Sounds disgusting," Draco remarked making a face.

"It's not!" Hermione insisted. "Haven't you had one before?" At the blank look on his face, she continued. "Maybe it's a Muggle thing."

Draco scowled at this piece of information. "No wonder it sounds gross," he sneered.

She put her hands on her hips and frowned at him. "Oh, come off it, Malfoy!"

"Not the Malfoy thing again!" Draco moaned.

"Well, what am I supposed to call you then?" she asked, grabbing two slices of bread and smearing them with peanut butter.

"Draco?" he suggested.

She looked up at him sharply. "Only if you call me Hermione."

"Fair enough... Hermione."

She nodded and began spreading jam on two more slices of bread. Draco watched her with feigned boredom as she completed the task by taking one peanut buttered slice and one jammed slice and sticking them together. He looked at her in shock when she held one out to him.

"Did you just make me a sandwich, Gra- Hermione?" he asked dubiously.

"Well, I assume you're here because you're hungry, Draco. You might as well try it."

She looked at him sternly, reminding him momentarily of McGonagall. Not that he could or would want to imagine the older witch clothed only in a T-shirt. He shuddered at the thought and cautiously took the offered sandwich from her. He sniffed it gingerly. It didn't smell too bad. He watched Hermione take a bite of hers and then lick the peanut butter off her lips. He swallowed hard and looked back at the sandwich in his hand.

"It won't kill you, you know," Hermione said, smirking slightly.

He scowled at her and took a defiant bite. The taste of peanut butter and strawberry swirled across his tongue. The peanut butter was slightly sticky but while it attempted to coat the roof of his mouth, the jam helped him swallow it smoothly. He looked up in surprise.

"This is actually good."

Hermione giggled. "Of course it is. I wouldn't like it if it wasn't."

She waved her wand and all the ingredients flew back to their proper places.

"Maybe not everything Muggle-born is so bad after all, huh Draco?"

She winked at him and in a flurry of fluffy, pink robe, disappeared out the door. He stared at the closed door for a long moment and then looked back at his sandwich. He shrugged to himself and took another bite. He chewed slowly as Hermione's words echoed through his head. Lost in thought, he walked back to his dorm eating his sandwich as he went. She had given him a lot to think about. He had a favorite food now. And maybe, just maybe, that wasn't all that had changed.