He didn't mean for it to happen. In fact, he knew no one else did. It was hard to to stop once you started. It sucked you in with its' abounding emotions. It drains you while you cherish its' rich silky flavor, and when it's done, you can't help but beg for it to take you back. When it's taken you back, it kicks you out after a while. Still you can't help but go back to it, hoping, begging, weeping, that you'll get that spark, that taste again.
Draco Malfoy was royally screwed. It wasn't muggle drugs that taken over his life, nor any other addiction. It was a simple yet complex phenomenon. It captured everyone once in their lifetime, some are fortunate to move on, others, like Draco, get stuck. Unable to move, see or feel they wonder blindly in the darkness, like a beggar going through the alleyways, scared of the shadows that follow them. This catastrophe was none other than love. It's beautiful, cunning ways had taken the great Draco Malfoy off of his high pedestal and had thrown him in the dark. His love was different however because love had not been merciful on him. His love defied everything he had been raised to believe in. His love killed him from the inside out, slowly and painfully. His love was none other than Hermione Granger.
The process of falling in love with her was slow and hidden, and Draco didn't realize what he was doing until it was too late. First, it was finding her eyes in the classroom. Then, it was noticing how she always flipped her hair in pure frustration. How her eyes seem to intensify whenever she was feeling insecure. How her chin was always raised when her pride was hurt, and he just couldn't get over her smile. Rare did she smile after the war, rare did anybody smile, but no one could have the same effect Hermione had on him. Her smile was beautiful and contagious. Her smile lit up the room from its' foul and distasteful mood.
Draco Malfoy was in love with Hermione Granger. He was royally screwed.