Gahh, I can't believe I just wrote this. I'm not a big fan of this pairing AT ALL, but I wrote this for GryffindorGal731 because even if I hate this pairing I love her, so here you go Melissa, I hope you like it :)


He doesn't know when he started noticing her but he assumes it's about the time she started hanging around Potter and Weasley, and he knows that if she hadn't have been a Mudblood and if she hadn't have been a Gryffindor he would have told her to stay away from them for her own good.

(But then again, if she hadn't have been a Mudblood and if she hadn't have been a Gryffindor things would have been a hell of a lot different.)

He never deluded himself into thinking she was gorgeous, because her hair was out of control and uncontainable and her teeth were too large and her skirt was too long and her head was always buried in those damn books of hers, so he never got to see her eyes unless they were staring at him in contempt, but for some reason he finds himself seeking her out so he can look at her and even if she isn't stunning she's definitely not an eye sore, or anything.

(And anyway, once she semi-controlled her hair and once she got those teeth fixed, a lot more people were looking at her than before, so he figures he has an excuse.)

She's more book smart than anything and he can't help but wonder why she's in Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw, but then he thinks back to that time when she punched him in the face and he thinks maybe he knows why.

(He'll never admit it to anyone but his face ached for days after that.)

He watches her for long enough that he's realized those trips out into the grounds in the middle of the night have become something of a pattern and so one day when he sees a dark figure making its way to the lake he gets out of bed and starts to follow before he even knows what he's doing.

It's cold when he gets outside and the cold wind knocks him back into his senses and he knows he should turn around and get back inside and pretend this never happened but he doesn't, he simply wraps his arms around himself and continues on, and now he doesn't have an excuse for his behaviour.

His long legs catch up to her soon and he watches her staring at the lake, her back to him and he wonders what she's doing but more than anything he wonders what the hell he's doing.

She turns around suddenly and there's nowhere for him to hide so he stands there and watches her and suddenly she just laughs, laughs at him and it drives him crazy, because in what universe does she have the right to laugh at him?

What the hell are you doing here? She asks him and he realizes he doesn't have an answer, so he gets defensive.

Can't a bloke wander around the grounds anymore?

She shakes her head as if the answer is obvious and he despises that she thinks she's better than him.

(He despises even more the fact that she is.)

Not when it's you. You always have an ulterior motive, Malfoy.

He supposes that's true but he can't figure out what it is, not this time, because the only other reason for him to be here is her and that's just not acceptable.

Why are you here? Is what he says instead, and the lack of malice in his voice makes her head turn.

Why do you care? She asks and if truth be told he's wondering the same thing but instead he just shrugs and says, I don't.

She scowls and turns back to the lake and he watches as her body shivers in the cold and a small part of him he thought he had squashed years ago wants to offer her his cloak while the bigger part of him knows that if he pushed her up against that tree she wouldn't be cold anymore.

I'm here because I have no where else to be, she says, and he doesn't understand her words but it isn't like he's going to come out and ask her what she means, isn't going to willingly admit that he doesn't understand because she's smarter and she always has been.

(He doesn't understand her words but he understands the clench of her fists and the tightening of her shoulders and the way her mouth presses into a line as if she's fighting off tears and one half of him is screaming at him to get far away from her while the other is telling him to take advantage of her vulnerability, but a smaller part of him he knows shouldn't exist because one half plus one half is one whole, but it's there anyway, defying all rules of law and space and time and mathematical theory and it's telling him to comfort her.)

He can think of a million and one pick up lines, all of which he knows won't work because it's Hermione Granger standing in front of him, but it doesn't matter because he doesn't want them to work anyway.

(Does he?)

Instead he just stands there and stares at her and he knows she'll never be stunningly beautiful in the conventional way but with the lake behind her and the moon shining down on her face he knows he's never quite seen someone so breathtaking.

I have to go, she says, and he doesn't know why she's excusing herself and from the look on her face neither does she and as she steps close to him he knows that he could grab her now, could overpower her and push her down and have her, take her, and no one would ever have to know because even if she told, who was going to take her word over his? He could do everything he ever wanted to do to her and then he could forget her and he would never have to think about her again.

But instead he stands there as she walks past and he doesn't even turn to look at her as she continues on into the castle and he pretends the reason he didn't touch her was because she was a Mudblood and a Gryffindor and she was filth but the truth she's still so full of life despite everything and goddamn, he's not going to be the one to take that life out of her.