DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER; ALL RIGHTS GO TO J.K ROWLING

*****I just randomly sat down at my computer and opened a blank document. After sitting and staring blankly at the screen for a few minutes, inspiration struck.

This is a very rough piece and I'm not sure if I like it, but I figured to heck with it!

~DIAMOND DUST~

Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket…. never let it fade away…

The grounds were quiet and inhabited by shadows, shadows that looked like heinous followers of the Dark Lord.

Draco had been spending way too much time within the presence of the devil come to earth, clad in a robe of the deepest and cruelest hue of ebony, while beady eyes calculated constantly as he smirked at his prey's cries of mercy. However, the dark Lord possessed no inkling of mercy within his entire body. No remorse, no understanding… simply cruel intentions of persecution and death… if his prey was lucky enough to receive such a gracious offering.

Draco, so to speak, was terrified of the Dark Lord, never forgetting his crimes and executions of wonderful witches and wizards, including Lily and James Potter. But, he couldn't be seen as a pansy that could be overpowered at any possible moment. He had to be the one who was looked up to, admired, worshipped, yet the person who everybody secretly loathed. It was his role, as it was the role of his father.

It was the will of the Dark Lord, of Voldemort. It was the will of his father, his tormentor. The man who had placed the Dark Lord's needs higher than even his own son's or wife's. No matter how far Draco may extend himself in order to reach his father in some way, make him understand him, make him believe in him, it was never enough.

Lucius would forever be the man who cared more of his own hide and pride rather than the man who cared about his family, about their lives. Of course… Draco wasn't any better. Not in the least. He was probably far, far worse. Draco knew the extent of the damage he was inflicting on everybody's lives… Harry Potter especially. He truly didn't despise the boy, not really. Really the only emotions he felt directed towards the boy were those of slight envy and, yes, even small bits of fear.

He wasn't scared that Harry would kill him, finish him off with the wave of his wand. He knew perfectly well that he deserved this fate, this demise. It would put the world just a few steps closer to peace and justice. Draco knew he wasn't strong enough to defeat Voldemort, nor was he strong enough to leave the position of his follower. He would continue to make the kills that were required of him in order to satisfy his father. He would forever make snide and crude remarks to the Golden Trio in order to keep up his façade of the indifferent, evil man that he never truly was.

Because, in truth, every time that he sneered at and disgraced the beautiful, mocha- eyed girl named Hermione Granger, a little piece of him died. A tiny microscopic piece of him shriveled up and dissolved into nothingness. He didn't know how he had made it this many years of seeing her hurt and accusative face without breaking into a million pieces.

But he had. She had yet to notice the way his eyes softened just a touch whenever he glimpsed her laughing and scolding her friend, boyfriend, Ron. She had not noticed how his fingers twitched unnoticeably whenever she was close enough to touch. She had not noticed the love and adoration and worship that sang from his heart and filled the room that he was unworthily sharing with her. She hadn't noticed these things and it was a bittersweet feeling.

He wanted her, needed her. He needed the feeling of comfort she always gave with her presence. He needed to pull her close and kiss her with every fiber of his being. He needed to taste the sweet sensation of perfectness and innocence on her lips and wonder why she would ever allow such a demon to hold her that way.

He loved her. That much was simple to admit. He had tried to deny it for three years, and, in short, hadn't prevailed. So he gave in and fell deeper. He finally understood his love for her, he understood the reasons he had fallen so hard. He understood and accepted. Though he could never admit it. He would be shunned; by his father, by the Dark Lord, by his fellow classmates that followed his lead in tormenting the Golden Trio, and worst of all, by the woman he loved more than anything herself.

She was so pure and perfect, but gravely naïve. She believed that she and her friends could defeat the Dark Lord with a simple band of misfit witches and wizards. He loved her and wanted to believe in her, but he couldn't ignore the obvious. The obvious being that the Dark Lord was far more experienced and cunning than the teenagers that possessed larger than life spirits.

Draco had to admit, though, that he was secretly impressed and slightly hopeful. Hopeful that maybe he was wrong, maybe Harry could defeat the Dark Lord and the world could be restored to peace again. If that were to happen… then maybe he could tell Herminie how he felt about her, maybe she would understand, and maybe, just maybe, they could be together.

Draco had his doubts though. But for the first time in a very long time, he allowed himself to hope and love Hermione, secretly but freely. He had always barred his feelings from everybody of the world, including himself. Not anymore. He lifted the wall in his mind, though he knew he would regret it later, and thought about her. Dreamed about her, about the way that they could be if only the world would allow them to. He wanted to be wanted… but by no one other than her. Call him picky, call him ridiculous, but he believed in his heart. He trusted it more than anything. Really, what else could he trust?

"When this war is over Hermione, you will know of my love to you. Even if it kills me." The whisper was faint, barely intelligible over the sound of the night's insects' delicate strings of chirps. However, his words were carried on the tide of the wind, miraculously, and entered into a woman's ears not too far from the man. She heard his proclamation and a smile reached her lips.

Not daring to attempt attracting his attention, she remained rooted to her spot, just admiring him from afar… like she always had. The way he hadn't noticed her slight hitch in breathing and heartbeat whenever he appeared in a room was beyond her. It felt like everybody could see the things he had done to her, see the way he had opened her eyes to something new and beautiful.

His pale lids slid closed and Herminie saw his shaky chest eventually steady with the beats of sleep. Cautiously she rose from her spot and tiptoed over to his, lowering her body to where she stood a few inches over his sleeping form.

He's so peaceful when he sleeps…she idly noticed. Her gaze traveled up and down his exhausted face, trying to read what might be happening in his dreams from reading the crevices in his face.

"We will be together, sometime Draco. Even if death claims us first, we will find the other in the afterlife." She whispered to him, though she knew he couldn't hear her. Somehow that made this vow easier. Lowering her face closer to his, she studied his lips. They looked so soft… so inviting. A few more centimeters and she stopped, but an unfamiliar sensation was hastily rising in her chest because of the close proximity she was from him, it gnawed at her to go closer still; but she had one other thing to say.

Her eyes were so focused on the man before her that she didn't notice the piece of the night sky fall to earth. She didn't notice the twinkle it sent in her direction as it fell.

"My beloved," she whispered shakily, tears falling off her cheeks and landing on his. "My hero," she kissed his eyelids tenderly, barely touching him for fear he might wake and catch her; their emotions would only become more entangled. "I love you." And she lowered her lips to his, gently stroking his cheek with her free hand.

The action was fleeting and the girl eventually ran off back into the castle, with the seed of hope now firmly planted in the root of her stomach.

In the coming future tears would be shed, blood would spill; screams would pierce the heart of the night like a jagged knife, but still lovers would prevail. Lovers would make peace possible.

Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket… never let it fade away…

******So yeah, there we go. Another Dramione fic. I don't think I'm very happy about how this turned out, it wasn't meant to sound so sappy. Uggg, anyway, help me out would ya? If you like it tell me, if you hated it tell me! I need to know what I could do to improve my stories.

R&R!!!!

~Moonlit- Silhouette