Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything you may recognise from it. I also don't own the image for this oneshot, which is by Roberto Weigand and called Balão :)

A/N: This is set in Hermione and Draco's sixth year.

Hermione sat on the wet grass, her school skirt spread around her carefully as she laid down on her back, her palms faced upwards towards the night sky. After days of heavy rain, the sky was finally clear and there wasn't a single cloud in sight. She could finally see the stars again, which were breathtaking, like dancers that had been itching to perform and tonight, they finally could. They were bedazzled with an explosion of shine, twirling across a never ending dark blue stage that stretched across the expanse of the night sky. Hermione breathed it all in, allowing a small noise of wonder to escape her open mouth. They were beautiful, even at a time like this.

Sighing in contentment, Hermione let herself be taken away to a different place. It was nicer, this place, she thought dreamily. In this world, she, Harry and Ron were happier, far happier. Harry's parents were alive, Ron didn't feel the need to compete with his siblings and she, Hermione, well… She wasn't only the brightest and cleverest person in the room, but she was also the happiest. This Hermione's eyes shone as bright as the stars, her hair model-straight and her mouth, filled with rows of straight, white teeth, was fixed with a permanent smile. This Hermione never hid her personality from anyone, not even herself. This Hermione was perfect. And it stung that this Hermione wasn't really who the real Hermione was.

Hearing footsteps, Hermione shot up, suddenly afraid for her life. It did her well, in such a time, to be afraid though. Even under the beauty of a million stars, a death eater wouldn't think twice to take her life. The boy who stood before her though, she was even more wary of, though he was hardly Voldemort himself. With pale hair that rivalled the luminescent silver glow of the moon and grey eyes colder than ice, she had decided to be scared.

"Are you going to kill me, Malfoy?" She demanded, refusing to face him, the Gryffindor warrior inside her emerging. It screamed for blood and above all, shameful revenge for the people she loved. But he said nothing, so she relaxed back onto the ground, determined to keep her gaze on the beauty above and not on the monster across from her. If he was going to kill her without warning, then at least her last sight would be something decidedly more pleasant than him.

"No, Granger," he said after a while, almost shocked by the pathetic nature of his own voice. "I'm not going to kill you."

Hermione said nothing in response, but he understood. If he wasn't going to kill her, then they would have to enjoy the stars in entirely different spaces. They belonged to different worlds, Hermione insisted to herself stubbornly. Their visions of the stars ought to belong in different ones too. So she didn't even make a single noise when Draco laid down beside her, resting his head on his smooth, pale hands. Not even as he invaded the little bubble she liked to think was around her, popping whatever privacy she had had before. Not even when he sighed wistfully, stirring up a feeling she seemed to always feel lately. Through everything, Hermione Granger did not say a word.

"They're beautiful," Draco said after a while, his voice almost cracking. It made her wonder, for a moment, whether he had changed. Whether he was a better person than she thought. But then she remembered that if she couldn't be the perfect Hermione, then he definitely couldn't be the perfect Draco. Such things were just never to be. A perfect Draco, Hermione liked to think, was drastically different to the one on his back, staring at the stars intensely. Probably wishing for a better life, from the sad look on his face. The ice in his grey eyes was slowly chipping away, losing the sharp edge they possessed, leaving behind a young boy who just wanted his youth back. But such things were not possible, regardless of if they both wished they were.

Still, Hermione turned her head to look at him and noticed the rare angelic expression upon his tired face. He didn't seem so bad this way, she realised. Perhaps in a different world, in a lighting such as this, Draco Malfoy would even seem like a kind person. Perhaps the day was not as flattering for his personality as it was for hers. Perhaps night was when he really shone, too hidden by the shadows of midnight for his light to be seen. The thought made Hermione sad, so she turned away from him, her heart beating with a feeling of almost sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Granger," Draco whispered suddenly and Hermione's heart almost stopped. She just nodded, staring in bewilderment at his sorry expression.

"Me too, Malfoy," she whispered back and, even though they were hardly close enough for their mind's to be in sync, she knew he understood. Draco Malfoy could have shone as bright as the stars on a summer's night in another life. And for a moment, Hermione only wished she could be there to see it; that it was this one he was truly explosive in.

So she closed her eyes and imagined the perfect world with the perfect, brighter, happier versions of themselves. And somehow, she knew that beside her, a Slytherin and her supposedly sworn enemy for life, Draco Malfoy, was doing the exact same.

Thanks for reading, lovelies! Please consider reviewing, favouriting, following, even PMing me about this oneshot, although it's obviously not mandatory. Till the next time,

Knutforyourthoughts :)