Author's Note: This was a request of my best friend as a Christmas present. So if this turns out to be… well… you know, please do recall that I am under pressure as to the fact that I must give this to her by Tuesday of next week. Sigh She could have just settled for bath products or something for a Christmas present, but nooooo, she had to ask me for a fic. So here it is. Hope you all find it…well, you know.

Dedications: To Onzie, here ya go. Hope it suits your tastes.

She Was His

Every day he would watch her.

Every single day with loyalty.

He would sit still and gaze at her for long moments, wearing a thoughtfully glum expression on his face. His gray eyes would follow her every movement with profound concentration as if it was such a necessary thing to do so.

In the crowds of students, in the Great Hall, in classes, in random walkways, he would find her. He would stop amidst the traffic of people, caring little if he caused difficulty, just so he could glance at her. Watch her.

All this she knew, he was sure of it; yet she never stopped for him. Never did she at the least tilt her head towards him to let him know she knew he was watching. Her brown eyes would not pass his direction, for he knew she refused to. She would avoid him at all costs, keeping her distance as far away from him as possible.

Once, though, there was a time when he was able to keep her near him. He was able to wrap his arms around her and keep her in them for as long as he wanted; once, he could reach out to her and run his fingers down her cheek or grasp her hand and entwine it with his. Once, there was a time when she always rested her head on his shoulder and once, he was allowed to kiss her.

A long time ago, there was an instance when she loved him. Once, she was his.

He remembered the words she told him, those which had stung. She loved another, she said, albeit the tears she shed when she told him, and she had wanted to part. He had asked for a reason, but it was a strange thing that she never gave him a proper one and instead had uttered that she no longer loved him.

He was suffering now, watching the girl he loved so dearly love another. He always hid in the shadows, following them to wherever they may go, and reliving those moments with her.

And every time he did so, he would gaze at her with dire longing, muttering the name of his beloved.

"Hermione."

He hated her for everything he was going through. He watched as she laughed, smiled with palpable joy and spent her life with obvious happiness… It seemed that he had never been part of her life at all; he was merely a passing fling that had happened to cross paths with her own.

She wasn't hurt. She wasn't in pain.

And he hated her for it.

Here he was tormented by her very presence. She was all he thought of nowadays. He dreamt of her; he succumbed to the memories he had with her, and willed time to go back to those days.

It ached to have her so near him, and yet never be allowed to be with her. She would always be there among the masses of people inhabiting the castle, and yet he could not approach her. Now he could only dream of holding her, being next to her, close enough to touch her face.

He walked on through the hallways of the castle, passing by places he once went to with her. There wasn't a place that would not make him forget that she was there. It was agonizing to find that her essence was everywhere, lingering aimlessly and reminding him of her.

Stop it, he thought angrily, ashamed and furious that he could do nothing to stop thinking about that one girl. He was helpless to her memory alone and he was powerless over her. Such thoughts raced through his mind so violently that he could not pay attention to where he was going. Sooner or later, he had bumped into someone and he staggered backwards, groping on anything for support.

A small gasp caught his attention, and he looked up, his heart racing in incredible speed. He knew that voice all too well, despite the inaudibility of her voice.

And there she was standing right in front of him, looking as beautiful as he always remembered when she was this close. Her amber eyes, so bright and full of surprise, her cheeks a plush red, her lips half open in shock – he had almost forgotten the bitterness he felt towards her. A rush of alive emotions swept over him, and the ache to have her again, once latent, was now vibrant as it had originally been.

"Malfoy," she spoke.

They were the first words she had spoken to him after the incident. So much like the last words she said, this one stung as badly, for she hadn't uttered his name. Draco. She was hostile, distant.

"You look well," she said, smiling amiably.

He blinked in reply, the resentment in him arising once again. She was smiling, appearing to be happy, but he knew her all too well to see behind her façade. Hidden beneath the reflected joy in the pools of brown in her eyes, he saw it: desolation. Was it because of him?

Hermione smiled gently, fidgeting. "How are you?"

"You should know," he replied indifferently, staring at her in defiance.

"Draco."

There it was. He was all too happy to find that she still managed to call her by his first name, but what followed had struck him with hurt.

She looked at him and laid a comforting hand on his and he looked up. Was she gazing at him with pity?

She smiled with sympathy and said, "I've gone through with it too; I know what you're feeling…"

"You don't know what I'm feeling." He suddenly grabbed her hand and grasped it tightly, his eyes flaring with anger, passion and all the longing he had tried to withstand, and he pulled her close to him. She stared at him in astonishment and stood still before him. "You don't know how much I suffer when I see you with him, when I have to watch you give him everything that should've been yours to give to me. You don't know how so damn painful it is to have to have you this close and not be able to be with you. You don't bloody well know how excruciating it is to see him kiss you or hold your hand or hug you! I can't seem to forget you, even if I try to – I don't even know why it has to be this hard to forget someone, I just don't know why…"

Breathless was he when he finished, and yet he dared not to let go of her. She stared at him in shock, she as well breathing quite quickly, and her eyes wide, speechless.

"I hate you." He whispered. His heart felt the grief he knew he couldn't bear, and all he wanted to do was scream at her for everything she had done to hurt him. He didn't deserve this much pain… What had he done to earn this? "I hate you." He repeated, trying so desperately to convince himself that he did.

Her eyes brimmed with tears, and what ought to have been joy in her eyes was replaced with hurt and anger. "Please let go of me," she answered, her voice breaking as tears rolled down her cheeks.

And he did, rather unwillingly, stepping backwards as he watched her run off. She deserved it. She had to feel the torment he was feeling.

He hated her…

So much.

Author's Note: Nope, this is sadly not the end. My friend asked for at least a 2 chapter long fanfic. So stay tuned for the next chapter. If you liked the beginning. Which I'm pretty sure you really didn't. But if in case you did, hope you review. It's what keeps me going in fanfic-writing.