"Malfoy? Are you listening, Ferret?" Hermione Granger asked Draco in an annoyed tone.

Feels like I spent all this time talking to walls

She felt a pang of regret as soon as 'Ferret' left her mouth. Draco snapped his head up from his schoolwork and glared at her. Ever since Draco and Hermione had been appointed Head Boy and Girl, they had been getting along magnificently. Lately, though, there had been trouble in paradise. Hermione had soon begun to feel herself reverted to old ways.

Feels like I gotta let go of the way it was before.

He gave her one last look of anger and returned to his school work. He could noticed the regret in her eyes, but he didn't acknowledge it. His face was emotionless, which only caused her eyes to fill with more sorrow.

"Will you talk to me? We need to figure this out!" she exclaimed, not sounding at all sure if she wanted to talk about what had happened.

Are your really there? Are you made of stone?
Am I talking to someone or am I here all alone?

"Draco, please," she pleaded. He glanced up. She looked pitiful like that. He wanted to tell her it was going to be alright, but he wasn't quite sure himself if it would be. And Draco Malfoy did not lie. At least not to Hermione Granger.

Are you alive, don't you feel, feel, feel?
Show me you're here, show me your tears.
Don't you feel, feel, feel, feel?

"I'm sorry! Okay? I am sorry. But we need to figure this out! It's killing me, not knowing!"


Show me, hold me, speak up and tell me something.

"I'm not going to wait forever for you to talk to me," she said. He glanced up.

"Do what you like, Granger. I don't own you. Why should I have any say in what you do?" Hermione searched his eyes. She found nothing.

"So I guess it's over then, is it?"

Change my mind before it's too late.
Are you alive? Show me you're human.
Can't you feel, feel, feel, feel?

Draco didn't reply. Hermione dropped her head. She wasn't going to cry. Not over him. Why couldn't he just understand? Hermione didn't want to know where she stood with him; she needed to know. Her mind worked better when everything was clear. She couldn't function if it wasn't. Hermione sat in the closest chair and stared into the fire.

Draco looked up. Hermione didn't notice. She looked so forlorn, as if she had lost something she loved.

Seems like you're stuck in a daze, slipping away.

"I don't think I really care anymore," she said suddenly, still staring into the flames.

I'm sick of trying to reach you; can't you say what's on your mind?

"What?" Draco asked, confused.

"If you don't want to try, then what are we doing? Why should I try if you won't?" she asked.

Baby we're losing the race to far behind, behind.
Tell me that I'm not the only one who can try, who can fight the wall.

"Hermione, it's not that I don't want to try," he said.

"Then why?" she asked, finally turning her eyes on him. "Why can't we try?"

"It's too complicated. There is no middle ground here. There's a war going on and everyone is separated. Do you know what would happen if we went any further? I could be disowned! And what would Potter and Weasel think? Do you really think that they would still want to be your friend if you went with the enemy? Do you?" he asked, almost yelling now. Tears started falling from Hermione's eyes.

Are you alive, don't you feel, feel, feel?
Show me you're here, show me your tears.
Don't you feel, feel, feel, feel?

"I don't care! They would have to get used to it! Is your inheritance really more important than this? Is it? I'm willing to give up everything, Draco. Everything! Because I love you!" she yelled back. Draco felt his heart twist. It wasn't more important than her. Nothing was. But there were so many reasons why they shouldn't be together. He didn't want to hurt her.

"Hermione—"

"Maybe they were right about you," she said, cutting him off. Draco sighed.

"Who was right about me?" he asked.

"Harry and Ron. They said you were a prat, that you only cared for yourself. They said you didn't have a heart. I didn't believe them, but maybe they were right." Draco's heart stopped. This was probably hurting him more than her. Why couldn't she see that it wasn't what he wanted?

Show me, hold me, speak up and tell me something
Change my mind before it's too late
Are you alive, show me you're human
Can't you feel, feel, feel, feel?

"Fine, you want to try this? You want to put yourself through more pain? Okay, Hermione, let's go. Let's try this. Tell me what you want me to do," he said forcefully, walked towards Draco. Hermione just looked at him.

Sometimes the words they don't get through.

"Tell me what to do!" he yelled, mere inches from her face.

"Do you love me?" she asked. Draco blinked.

"Yes," he replied. "I love you." Hermione looked at him, eyes blank, and didn't respond. "Hermione, tell me what you want me to do." She blinked.

"Show me."

What really speaks is what you do.
Open up, let me inside, just wanna find you.

Draco looked at her tear-stained eyes. So many thoughts were going through his head. What did that mean? How was he supposed to show her? That doesn't make any sense. Hermione dropped her eyes from his gaze. She started to turn around and run to her room, but Draco grabbed her hand and stopped her. She looked up at him in surprise.

Are you alive, are you, are you?

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Are you dead? Wake up.

Draco looked at her. She was shaking slightly, though from what he was unaware. He had never really noticed how much shorter she was than him. He was well over a head taller.

Draco pushed her hair that had fallen loose from her pony tail behind her ear.

Show me you're here, show me your tears.
Don't you feel, feel, feel, feel?

"You're more important," he said simply. She opened her mouth to say something, but was stopped when Draco kissed her. It was a small, soft kiss that meant more than any other kiss because it was different from any other kiss they had shared. He was different.

Show me, hold me, speak up and tell me something.
Change my mind before it's too late.

Draco pulled away and looked down at Hermione. She was his, and she always would be. They could find a way around his parents. His father would be the problem. In fact, his mother would probably love her.

Hermione rested her head on Draco's chest and wrapped her arms around him. It just felt right. He really wasn't the ferret that Ron and Harry thought him to be. Harry would probably get over it quickly, as long as she managed to keep their bickering to a minimum. They had a lot in common. Quiddich, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and their hatred of Death Eaters. Ron would be horribly upset by the whole thing. He probably wouldn't get over it because of all of the tormenting he had received from Draco over the years. But if he really wanted to be her friend, he would get over it. Her and Draco were going to last. She knew it.

Are you alive? Show me you're human.
Can't you feel, feel, feel, feel?

Draco and Hermione sat down on the comfortable couch in their common room. They sat there, staring at the fire and simply enjoying the moment. She was leaning against him, and was close to being asleep. Draco was stroking her hair.

Whoa, wake up. Are you dead?

This was what they wanted. They would do anything to keep it. This time, they weren't going to let anyone stop them from being together.

Don't you feel, feel, feel?

A/N: So what did you think? This was my first one-shot ever, so please be honest with me and level. The song is "Feel" by Marie Digby.