This is a fairly standard Dramione drabble, a little OOC but whatever. Hope you enjoy it. Posting as a one-shot for now, but there may be more to come if you guys tell me you want it.

The song is 'Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You" by Frankie Vallie. The title is an extract from the song. I do not own the rights to the song, the characters Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, or any other aspect of the Harry Potter universe.

Hermione Granger was curled up on the blue suede couch of the Head's common room, staring into the flickering embers of a dying fire. Her curls fell forward in an unruly curtain, hiding her face. In the corner, a bronze gramophone played an old Frankie Valli song, but not loud enough to drown out her sobbing. In fact, it was the sound of sobbing that had drawn him down from his bedroom.

He approached her softly, barely daring to make a sound. He was standing just behind her when she spoke. "They danced to this song at their wedding."

He stood frozen, an array of responses dancing in his mind. There were so many things he wanted to say to her. Empty words of comfort and kindness that would mean nothing at this point. His curiosity got the best of him, and he spoke without thinking, a single word; "Why?"

She sighed, but not sadly. He knew she'd been expecting this.

"Wouldn't you give anything to go back, before the war, before magic, before anything, and just have a normal life? Be raised as a muggle, oblivious to the magical world, not worrying about every little thing that goes bump in the night? Their world is one of simplicity. There is no true evil, no need to worry whether or not their daughter will live through the night. They don't even know they have a daughter. They're happier this way. Who am I to take that away from them?"

"So you're never going to see them again?"

Surprised, she turned to face him. Her hair fell away from her face and he could see it was red and puffy, but she spoke in a calm, even voice.

"They're my parents. I'm far too selfish to give them up for good. But I'll wait, give them a few worry free years. I'll finish my schooling, and wait until the terror of the war has died down a bit. Then I'll go an find them myself, and restore their memories and tell them everything. They deserve that, at least. To hear everything from their own daughter, rather than a team of strangers. I owe them that."

The song ended, and there were a few moments of silence before it began again. "It's a pretty song." He told her, not knowing what else to say.

"It's enchanted."

"The song?"

"The gramophone. It picks up on the mood in the room, and plays something appropriate."

"That's a brilliantly complicated piece of magic you've worked there, Granger."

Her lips twitched upwards in the ghost of a smile.

"Thank you, Draco."

Something fluttered inside him. She'd called him Draco. Not Malfoy, not Ferret. Draco. Over the past few months living together, they'd grown to be more and more civil towards each other. She had helped to save his life, after all.

They were two out of only 7 students from their year who had returned to Hogwarts to finish their schooling. They had all been given the option of doing an intensive 2 week course at the start of the year, and taking their owls at the end of it. Most students from their own year and the year below had opted for this, though a few war heroes such as Ron, Ginny, Neville and of course Harry had been offered high ranking jobs before they had even completed their diploma. Hermione would have also been able to go straight into work, but had instead opted to complete her entire 7th year due to her love of education.

Draco stayed more for protection; he had been forced to fight on the side of the Dark Lord for most of the war, for his own protection and that of his family. He had done many things he was not proud of, but in the end was found innocent. He was really trying to change, to do the right thing despite the consequences. Kindness was a trait he had always admired, but his family had always viewed it as a weakness. In this safe, post-war world, where the only pain came from his own mind, he could afford to be weak.

Draco had been named as head boy mainly due to him being the only male in the 7th year. At first, it had been hard to live with Hermione, a witch whom he had tormented to no end throughout their childhood, who he had watched tortured, too afraid to save her. She knew the worst parts of him, the cowardice and the hatred and the selfishness, yet she had been nothing but kind to him. He guessed the war had changed them all, and she knew truly he had only been acting in self preservation. She could forgive him for the cruel comments he'd made as a child, the blind prejudice that had been instilled upon him by his parents. As they grew older, he had stopped finding pleasure in the pain he caused, and had only acted as he felt he must. She knew this. She forgave him. After all that had happened, it would take a lot more than a few childish insults to get either of them to fight again.

Living with Hermione had actually proved to be rather fun. When she was happy, she graced the entire dorm with beautiful songs from the shower. He hadn't told her he could hear her, because he was afraid she might get embarrassed and put a silencing spell on her bathroom. She had spent several weeks messing around with various cosmetic spells, turning their hair strange colours and making his eyelashes grow to the size of chopsticks. He guessed she wanted to try some light, fun magic after all the darkness of the war. Often one of them would awake screaming from nightmares, to find the other waiting, stroking their hair and coaxing warm milk and sleeping draughts into them. They'd actually become really good friends, despite a little awkwardness. He couldn't stand to see her so upset.

"Would you like to dance?" The words escaped his lips without thought.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, her mouth opened as though to reply, but she closed it again without a word.

"Sorry. Stupid question. I'll just leave you alone…" He quickly turned to leave, hiding his flaming cheeks from her view.

"Yes." The barely audible answer stopped in his tracks, and he turned back to face her.

This time, she spoke loud and clear. "Yes, I would like to dance with you."

"Oh. Um. O-okay." He stuttered awkwardly. He walked to the side of the couch, and held out a shaking hand, which she accepted after a moments' hesitation.

He held her at arms' length, one arm on her waist, as the first strains of the song began once again. A light, slightly jazzy tune with simple lyrics.

You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you

You'd be like heaven to touch, I want to hold you so much…

They awkwardly stepped together at first, stiffly holding frame, avoiding eye contact. But as the big band riff started to swell, they both relaxed into each other, swaying and stepping in time. By the second chorus, a smile graced her lips as he spun her in and out, and she gave a small yelp as he dipped her without warning. She gave a disapproving look, to which he responded by poking his tongue out and spinning her once more.

As she spun back in, she let go of his hand and placed both hands firmly on his shoulders, his own hands finding her waist. By now, the song had looped once more, and they danced beautifully together, a sexy almost-tango.

I love you baby, and if it's quite alright

I need you baby to walk the lonely night…

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she stepped closer, burying her face in his shoulder. He wrapped his arms tight around her in response, and they swayed together. After a while he felt small vibrations against his chest and realised she was humming along to the song. By now, he knew the words quite well, so he sang softly with her. She looked up at him and smiled, her own mouth forming the lyrics.

Soon, they were both belting out the song in earnest, her voice silky and gorgeous, his own loud and tuneless, but he didn't care. They danced more boisterously now, spinning and dipping, giggling and singing, and as the song ended, his hands tightened around her small waist, and he lifted her into the air. As she slowly slid back down, she wrapped her left arm around his neck, and let her right hand softly graze down the side of his face in a sweet caress. They stood frozen and panting, gazing at each other as the song played in the background.

He took her in; dishevelled uniform, her shirt slightly unbuttoned, her tie swingingly loosely, her grey socks with no shoes, chocolate brown eyes still slightly tinged with red, and that gorgeous honey brown hair, a messy veil of ringlets that ran down her back and fell over her face. God, she was gorgeous, and she didn't even know it…

He bent towards her slightly, unsure, and she propelled herself onto her toes, closing the gap between them. Their lips met in a soft, chaste kiss that seemed to him far too short. She released him, smiling wickedly.

"Thanks, Draco. I'm feeling much better now."

He nodded dumbly, his mind frantically processing.

"It's late, I'm going to bed. I'd suggest you do the same."

Once again, all he could do was nod.

She stepped towards him, and raising herself onto her toes, left a soft, lingering kiss on his cheek.

"Goodnight, Draco."

As he watched her retreat to her bedroom, his mind was filled with a single thought.

She tasted like strawberries.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, and if you'd like to read more please leave a comment saying so and I'll try to get up another couple of chapters soon! xx