A/N: JK Rowling owns all the characters, places, pretty much everything. (Though, I hope she'll sell me Draco to do with as I please =P) First uploaded fan-fic, so please R&R and I promise to reply :3 Continue, or not? Sorry for the shortness.
CHAPTER ONE : THE SILVER BLONDE SECRET
The night was slipping rapidly away, dark clouds covering the bright moon so that an empty darkness crept through the corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The only light was coming from the candles placed at intervals around the castle, some floating, some fixed onto walls or stands. The sudden darkness as all the candles blew out woke Hermione, who had been studying in an empty classroom since her days lessons had finished, and had ended up falling asleep on the desk as a result of it. Her caramel curls were sticking up at odd angles, and she rubbed her chocolate brown eyes with her fists as she tried to remember where she was. Of course, with the lights off, it wasn't as easy as she would have expected. Her eyes darted over to the window, and immediately grew large at the knowledge of just how much trouble she would be in if she was caught out of bed past curfew. "Damn," she muttered, grabbing her books and shoving them as quietly as she could manage into her bag, a brown satchel that her parents had bought her as an early birthday present just the day before.
The door wasn't as hard to spot now that her eyes had adjusted, and she knew that if she dared light her way with her wand, she would be spotted for sure. Instead, she scrambled for the door, knowing the loud creak that it would make if she attempted to pull it open, yet there was no other way. Grimacing as the sound of the old oak door being pulled at its hinges echoed through the castle, she slipped her slim form out of the small gap she had created. She blinked a few times as she entered into the corridor, once again lost in the pitch black darkness. A cool chill ran down her spine and she shivered, wishing she had had the sense to carry her winter cloak around with her, especially at this time of year. Her grey jumper and knee length pleated skirt were definitely not enough to keep her warm at this hour, even with the woolly black tights she was wearing.
Her feet pulled her left and she followed them without question, her footfalls loud in the silence around her. She grimaced at the thought of Filch catching her sneaking around like this or - even worse - Snape. She really could do without a months worth of detention, especially with Christmas approaching at a rapid pace. Hermione's pace quickened in the need that she felt to return to the Gryffindor common room before being caught, and it was all she could do to stop herself from running. It didn't take her long to realise where she was, and how close to the common room she was. Letting out a sigh of breath that she didn't know she had been holding in, Hermione suddenly paused. Someone had been stood right in front of her, mere inches away from where she now stood... only, where were they now? She held her position for what felt like forever, not letting a single breath leave her mouth, not moving a single muscle. She waited... and waited.
Hermione shook her head slightly, telling herself that she had simply imagined the tall figure, yet she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. She shivered again, realising that it perhaps wasn't the cold that was getting under her skin, but the sheer dread that sank her heart to the pit of her stomach. Nibbling her lip slightly, she headed back in the direction she had been traveling before the darkness had tricked her, eager to reach the warmth of her four poster bed and the safety of her friends' company. She could already feel the heat of the last glowing embers of the fire and her toes wriggles in anticipation, a new found confidence pushing her on further. Hermione jumped as an owl hooted from outside, a small gasp coming from her lips. And then she felt it, a firm hand on the small of her back, pulling her over to one of the corridor walls. A scream grew on her lips, a scream of fear and desperation, only it never left her lungs. Firm lips crushed against her own, softly caressing hers in a way that told the desperate needs of the mysterious kisser, yet portrayed how much the girl meant to the person. Hermione's head became fuzzy as her tongue slipped into the mouth of the boy in front of her, for it was definitely a male. The way his hands felt against her skin, smooth yet too manly to be female, the way he battled with her for dominance, the way she was being pressed into the wall behind her and the way that her hand tangled into short hair all backed up her initial thought - definitely male.
Eyes shut, Hermione knew nothing of the man in front of her, and even if her eyes had been searching for him, the darkness would mask him all to well. Every conscious part of her mind was screaming at her to stop, screaming that it could be anyone, yet her body overthrew it with the fire coursing through her veins at his very touch. Never did she want to let go, yet at that thought she felt the absence of his lips from hers. It took a few seconds for Hermione to pull her eyes open, prepared to ask for a single word, a single name, but the figure of the tall boy was no longer in front of her. As her eyes moved across to the large door across the other end of the corridor, she could have sworn she had seen a flash of silver blonde.