Together

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"I think we dream so we don't have to be apart so long. If we are in each others dream, we can be together all the time."
-Hobbes-

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I've never actually held your hand or kissed your lips. I've never lain in your arms and felt your strength envelope me. You've never whispered sweet endearments to me as the moon shadowed the ground below. You've never even smiled at me.

I don't know why I have a hope that maybe one day you'll change. I don't know why I keep believing that the way you act is just a cover-up and secretly deep inside you love me. You love me so deeply it hurts or at least I wished you did.

I wished so many things. Too many things to list, but most of all, I wished that just once you would look at me and your grey eyes would be filled with something besides loathing.

I wish you didn't hate me.

Hermione sighed. It was another start to another boring day just like the rest. Wake up, eat, take classes filled with notes and wand waving, eat and socialize, homework and off to bed. It was the same routine she had lived with for over six years of schooling.  

For at least four of those years, she filled her spare time during classes watching him. Watching him carefully, so he wouldn't notice with shy glances here and glimpses there. She noted the way he joked with his friends and sneered at those who looked on. She smiled at the way he laughed at others, but saddened at the fact that it never really reached his eyes.

Was he ever happy? Or did true happiness not exist in Draco Malfoy's world? Was it beaten out of him at an early age like so many liked to say?

Hermione jotted down a note in her notebook as Professor Binns rambled away about the 1678 Orc Rebellion. She listed all the names of the wizards who helped stifle the commotion- Alec Manders, William DeLuc, Dianna Freserd and quite a few others.

But her mind was on famous wizards of the past, it was on him. He would never like her the way she liked him. They were all caught in some web of social classes. He was pure-blood, from a wizarding line as old as time. She was born in a muggle family and knew not one witch or wizard before she received her letter.

He would never even look at her except to laugh at her. It hurt, but she refused to acknowledge that fact. She didn't want him to think her weak if she cried in front of him, so she acted proud. She had originally thought it would make up for her lack of history. It didn't, instead he made fun of her for being strong, and for acting like she was something she wasn't.

Hermione looked across the room at the blonde haired boy who was whispering fervently to Crabbe. They were probably devising a plan on how to ruin their next targets life. Hermione didn't know why she liked him.

Didn't know what drew her to him.

Sadly the time for them to move to the next class came; she gathered her stuff and placed it all in her bag. She watched Draco move towards the door and thought: goodbye for now.

Picking up her bag, she flowed out with the rest of the students. She was happy that she had her bed to retire to that night and many hours yet to be filled with dreams.

Dreams where they were together.