After the sixth time he had passed in front of a blank wall, a door appeared in front of Draco Malfoy. He had no idea why his nerves were getting the best of him. Maybe it had something to do with the long, black robe that he wore over the ghastly white shirt and bow tie that his mother had bought him at Madam Malkin's. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he tripped on those robes every time he tried to waltz with Pansy Parkinson. Maybe he was just being silly.

But he did know that she had went in the Room of Hidden Things. When she had left the Great Hall only five minutes before, he had seen her head for the stairs and up to the seventh floor. Yes, she might have went to the Gryffindor common room. It was a toss up between there and the Room of Hidden Things. He doubted he would have much luck getting into the Gryffindor common room, anyway.

The sound of her shrieks at that Weasley both pleased and devastated Draco. He was pleased to know that she had become irritated over something that ginger did (exactly what, he did not know). The devastation and hurt that pierced through Draco came from the tears in her eyes. It came from the heartbreak he heard through her shrieks. "You ruined everything!" she had cried at the Weasley before sinking down on the steps, furiously taking off her heels and sobbing.

Draco had been watching her from afar inside the Great Hall. He was sitting at a small table with Pansy Parkinson as the band played a horrible love song. After dancing with Pansy a few times, he'd had enough. The girl couldn't dance even if her life had depended upon it. He had only agreed to go to the Yule Ball with her because it would hopefully shake him out of his trance. He gave up on that the minute he had heard the Mudblood shriek at Weasley.

And now he was standing in front of the door that led into the Room of Hidden Things, hoping with all of his might that the girl was in there.

He entered through the door quickly so he wouldn't be seen. The door vanished behind him into the stones of the wall the second he stepped into the large room. His eyes scanned the scene before him: old books, old furniture, a few unused dungbombs, some unused firecrackers, sugar quills, empty love potion bottles, and a large variety of other hidden objects.

Every time he entered the room, it was at a different location. One day he might enter where there was a large suit of armor, the next day he might enter at the location of a large tree that had grown in the middle of the room. It was very unpredictable, but he felt like he knew where most things were. He at least knew enough to maneuver around.

Seeing the stack of firecrackers, Draco instantly headed down a row of junk to his left. He passed many more unused objects: more quills, old cauldrons, fake wands, a few cabinets, tables, chairs, broomsticks, etc. At the end of the row, he turned right, then left, then right again.

After a few more turns, he emerged into a sort of opening that had been arranged to look like a living room. There was a coffee table in the middle on a beautiful, green rug. Around the table were a few chairs and a couch. A large mirror, cabinets, wardrobes, an old record player, and piles of books lined the outside of the area like walls. It was on the green, Cornish Pixie-eaten couch that he found exactly what he was looking for.

She didn't even look up when he had turned the corner. It wasn't until he walked up to the couch that her eyes stared at his shoes, and then up to his face. Her face was wet with tears and she was sitting with her knees to her chest. A pair of pink heels were tossed aside in the floor.

"You alright, Granger?" Draco asked her carefully.

"I guess so," she whispered as he sat down next to her on the couch.

"What did that Weasel do to you?" he asked her, scorn creeping into his voice. "Of all the nights he could have done so, why did it have to be tonight?"

"It's nothing," she said, looking away from Draco's pale blue eyes.

"It's something," he persisted.

"He just," she paused before looking at him again, "he just decided to screw things up. He didn't even ask me to go tonight. I expected him to, but he must have gotten scared. He and Harry decided to take the Patil twins when they found out Viktor had asked me to go with him. Then, a few moments ago, Ron decided to make a big deal about me going with Viktor and I told him that he should have asked me instead of waiting too long and then making fun of me for going with someone who actually did ask me. You probably don't care..."

"I do," Draco said. "Why would you ever think I wouldn't?"

"You're not supposed to..." her voice trailed off as another tear slid out of her eye. "You're supposed to hate me."

"We've already talked about this. I don't hate you..."

"Well, why the hell don't you?" she breathed. "I'm just another Mudblood! You used to make fun of me all the time. You even wanted the basilisk to kill me when the chamber opened our second year. I punched you last year for being such a git. Why is it so different now? What changed your mind? Was it when Moody turned you into a ferret? Did that change how you think about things?"

"I really don't know," he whispered. "Honestly, I don't. But wouldn't you rather me like you than hate you?"

"You only like me in this room. I'm just the same old Mudblood in class. I'm the same old Mudblood all the time unless we're in here."

"You've got to understand by now that I can't openly tell people that we're friends by now! Crabbe and Goyle would kill me. Pansy would kill me and you. Professor Snape would tell my father. That would be the end of me. You can't be a Malfoy and like a Muggle-born. It doesn't work."

"Then hate me," she demanded him. Her voice was becoming high-pitched in her emotional rage. Her brown eyes pierced into him. They dared him. "You hate my friends. You hate my blood. You hate my parents. You hate Gryffindor. You hate everything. Why don't you actually hate me for a change?"

"But I don't."

She continued to stare at him until her eyes began to swim with tears again. She closed her eyes as a sob escaped from her mouth and she curled up into a ball on the couch.

Draco watched her in despair. He wanted to comfort her. He wanted to hold her. He knew that if he did, she'd either push him away and tell him to never speak to her again, or she'd let him comfort her.

"Hermione..." he whispered as she cried. "Hermione, don't cry."

When she didn't reply, he reached over with a pale hand and caressed her back gently. Her watery brown eyes peeked up at him through a tangle of brown hair.

"I can't hate you," he whispered as he gazed into her eyes. "Trust me, I tried that for three years. I just can't do it. You can hate me all you want, but that doesn't change how I feel."

She sniffed and uncurled herself from the small ball she had reduced to. Her hands flew up to her hair and tried to flatten it into the smooth bun it had been in before her emotional breakdown, but it only messed up more. Draco reached up and pulled out the few pins in her hair, letting it fall on her shoulders in the usual brown tangle. He pulled back a few loose strands that fell onto her face. "There," he said with a small smile. "Back to normal."

"Thanks," she whispered.

Draco stood up and walked over to the record player. He tapped it with his wand and a soft tune filled the room quietly. He slipped off his dreadful black robe and turned back to Hermione. "Come here," he said, holding out his hand.

"Wh-what?" she stuttered.

"Surely you don't think I'm going to let you leave without a dance? It is the night of the Yule Ball, after all. I think you'll be a better dancer than Pansy was. I watched you with Viktor."

She stared at his pale hand a few seconds before standing up. Kicking aside her shoes, she walked up to Draco and grasped his hand timidly. He placed his other hand on her waist. Her other hand wrapped around his neck and they slowly began to sway to the music...

The song ended. They stopped swaying. Hermione raised her head from Draco's shoulder to look up into his blue eyes. Her eyes were sparkling with tears. His were sparkling with an emotion she had never seen in him before. She thought it was... happiness? True happiness? She could not tell, but she suspected it was something that he did not feel very often.

"You know," she said as she rested her head on his shoulder again, "I agree with you. I would never tell anyone how I feel about you either."

"Yeah?" he murmured in reply.

"Yes. I mean, it's not like I could tell Ron and Harry. Ron would never speak to me again and Harry would probably think I'm working for You-Know-Who somehow."

"What would ever make him think that?" Draco laughed.

"I think it might have something to do with your father working for You-Know-Who by giving Ginny the diary that led to the chamber opening."

"Good point," he laughed again. They were still standing in an embrace despite the lack of music. It felt... natural to hold her like that. It shouldn't have felt that way to him, but it did. Just forget your reputation and enjoy this, he thought to himself.

"Thank you, Draco," she whispered.

"For what?"

"Everything."

He rubbed her back slowly and said, "Well, it's the right thing to do, isn't it?"

She raised her head again and gazed into his pale eyes. "You're making the right decisions now?"

"I am right now."

Her eyes gazed down to his lips quickly and then back up to his eyes. "Well, I hope this is what you expected in return," she breathed, "because it's what I've wanted to do for a few years now."

"And what is that?" he asked her, gazing into her eyes intently.

Her eyes sparkled, but there were no more tears. He could see this because her eyes were so close... He could feel her breath on his lips... It was so warm... Her eyes were so brown and her lips looked so soft...

They were as soft as he'd always hoped they would be.

Author's note: that was a little something I wrote based on an idea I had for a longer fanfic. It was originally for a different character, but I thought Hermione fit the situation perfectly.

I also want to acknowledge that I really have absolutely no idea if Draco was turned into a ferret before the Yule Ball. I made mention that it did happen, but I'm really not sure. It's not relevant to the plot, anyway.

Also, I didn't add how Draco already knew about the Room of Requirement in his fourth year. I haven't come up with an explanation, but my current idea is that he overheard the Weasley twins talking about it. Or his father told him. I haven't decided yet.

There might be a few typos/grammar mistakes since I've only edited it once. It seems fine to me right now, but if there's any huge mistakes I'll be sure to fix them and update it.

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed it :)

Review and comment, please!