Silently she crept through the corridors, her shoes in hand to silence her steps, only the faintest brush of her socks on the cool stone floor audible. Pale moonlight seeped through the high windows, lighting her nightly path to the out of the castle even brighter than usual. Slowly, carefully, she opened the heavy wooden door, shutting it quietly behind her and slipping her shoes onto her feet as she stepped into the warm night air. A gentle breeze caresses her face as she makes her way across the grounds to her sitting place by the lake. It was a retreat for her, whenever she needed time to be alone this place was there for her. Tonight the lake was emitting an ethereal glow from the phosphorescent creatures it housed, only showing their lights on the night of the full moon.

Though the night was peaceful, Hermione could feel herself being observed. She did not feel threatened, which confused her...she felt only as though someone's gaze had fallen upon her. As she sat down on the boulders that formed her nook, she saw a dark male figure approaching, walking slowly closer to her. The figure bowed, formally and gracefully, showing both his respects and that he meant no harm. Closer he came, close enough to whisper her name into her ear, gently caressing a stray curl from her face.

"You know my name...who are you? do I know you? Why do you conceal your face?" Hermione whispered, being barely able to form words

"I know your name, I know all about you. You do know me, which is why you're best off not knowing who I am right now. . . you can just call me Dragon"

Hermione nodded, not knowing how to respond to this. Something about him seemed so familiar, yet so different. Her mind raced, trying to put together who this man was and why he was out by the lake so late, apparently waiting for her to arrive.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, tentative and demanding at the same time.

Although she could not see it, he smiled. He was well aware of her curiosity; it was one of the things he loved best about her. Come to think of it, what did he want? Why was he out here? If his father knew of what he was doing, he'd not hesitate to beat him, or worse. Oh, that's right, he remembered. He was in love. With her, the very bookworm, the very dirty-blooded witch-- for he could no longer even think the word "mudblood"-- he had tormented for so long. The very same who'd humiliated him, slapped him--deservedly so--, topped him in academics in every single class, and who'd never hesitated to put him in his place, to stand up to him. Others fawned over him for his good looks, his status; she could not care less. She was the most intriguing creature he'd ever encountered, and had realized one day whilst studying solely to attempt to best her on the next exam that he was in love with her; the only witch in the entire school that he could never have.

For two years after that day, he denied it. He ignored the jealous rage that flared up inside of him when he saw her in Victor's arms at the ball. He pretended that the insults she threw back at him didn't hurt him, even though the burning truth in them seared his soul. Now he could ignore it no longer. Her idiotic boyfriend had broken her heart, and Draco would soon be out of his father's home and therefore slightly safer. This was his last chance to let her know how he really felt before they all moved on in their lives, and his chance would be gone.

Realizing that she was staring at him, awaiting a response, he simply said "to talk".

Skeptically she raised a brow, and countered, "you want to talk? Wouldn't it be a little easier to talk to me in the hall sometime, or in class?" "not that one should be talking during class" she hastened to add.

"Like I said, somehow if you knew who I was, I doubt you'd give me the time of day. Or night, in this case."