*I do not own Harry Potter, nor will I ever.. ): *

The smell of fresh parchment burned her nostrils as she studied for her mid-term exams. She had sat there for hours, staring at the same page in the same book. She sighed and looked at her surroundings. Tall book cases, filled top to bottom with books were everywhere.
"Granger." She heard from behind her. She'd recognize that sneer anywhere, though this time it sounded like he was trying to use a civil tone.

"Malfoy." She acknowledged him sternly. She looked back down at the book. She felt his eyes burning into the back of her head. The chair across from her scraped against the floor as he pulled it back, then sat down, his eyes never leaving her.

Hermione heard somebody approach her from behind, and, out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Malfoy look up behind her.
"Ms. Granger?" Professor McGonagall's gentle, yet concerned voice addressed her.
"Professor…?" She asked hesitantly, not knowing what to expect. McGonagall looked at her sympathetically, then handed her a letter. With a shaky hand, Hermione opened the letter, expecting the worse.
Dear Ms. Hermione Granger,

The Ministry has just received news that your parents have died in a car crash. We are extremely sorry, but seeing as you are under-aged, we have made arrangements for you to stay with the Weasley family until you finish school.

Cornelius Fudge
Minister of Magic.

Hermione starred at the letter, and re-read it four more times before looking up at McGonagall and then at Malfoy. Then she burst into tears and ran off to find Harry and Ron. She ran up the stairs, and was all the way to the seventh floor, in front of the Fat Lady, when reality hit her like a brick wall. Harry and Ron were hunting horcruxes. They weren't here. Her brain was a spinning top. She sank down against the wall, buried her face in her hands.
Hermione had no idea how long she had sat there before she began to fall asleep from crying. Right before she fell asleep, she remembered somebody gathering her up in their arms, and carrying her to a soft bed.
When she woke up, she was surrounded by green and silver bedding. Green curtains hung on either side of the bed, and the sheets were pure silk. She sat up, wondering why in Merlin's Beard she was in the Slytherin boys' dormitory. At the foot of the bed she was in, was a sleeping boy, sitting in a small, wooden chair. She recognized the boy, but it made no sense. She remembered back to yesterday, and tears silently rolled down her cheeks. Her parents were gone. The boy woke up, walked over to the bed and picked her up. He sat down with her on the bed, and silently ran his fingers through her hair as she cried.

Once Hermione had stopped crying, several hours later, she sat there in his lap, waiting for him to go back to his normal self. She expected him to stand up suddenly, dumping her to the floor, exclaiming "Mudblood!" When he didn't, she decided to wait for him to explain.

"Malfoy?" she asked the platinum haired boy. He looked at her, his warm gray eyes meeting her chocolate-colored ones.

"Hermione?" he asked her, curious as to what she was going to say.
"Why are you…I mean…?" Hermione asked, clearly befuddled by the whole thing. He chuckled lightly.

"Because I love you, Hermione." She just sat there, starring at him in utter bewilderment. "All those time I called you a Mudblood, I was teasing you. I just said it like I wasn't because if I had shown interest in you, Weasel-Bee and Scar-Head would have most likely blasted me into oblivion. And I would have told you sooner, seeing as it's our seventh year, but I really don't fancy your group of friends." He told her, matter-of-factly. She was astonished. Did was all this really true? Or was he tricking her into liking him back so he could capture her and take her in to Lord Voldemort himself?
Now that she thought about it, she fancied Draco as well. She had since their third year, when she had punched his lights out because he made a sick joke about Hagrid's Hippogriff, Buckbeak. Now, of course, it was Harry's Hippogriff, seeing as Sirius had escaped on it, and then died, leaving it for Harry. But this was beside the point. Did Malfoy really mean all this? She could take him seriously, and end up hurt. Or she could not take him seriously and end up hurting him. She didn't know which was worse: Being wounded, or wounding.
She sighed, "I love you too, Draco." She said, squeezing her eyes shut, expecting the worse. When he didn't answer, she slowly opened her eyes, only to see a genuine smile on Draco's Face. Nobody, not even the best actor, could fake a smile like this. Draco had been one-hundred percent serious. She smiled back at him, and her smile quickly vanished as she saw Pansy glaring at them from the doorway. Draco quickly shoved Hermione off his lap, none too gently, and stood up.
"Pansy, I…" he began.
"Oh shove it Malfoy." Pansy snapped, then turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.
"Ow." Hermione mumbled from the floor. Draco hurried over to her and helped her up.
"I'm glad I got her off my back." Malfoy exclaimed in an exasperated tone. Hermione looked at him, and relief was clear in his eyes. He wasn't faking this. He had only acted like he cared about that Parkinson brat to make her mad so she would leave. He sat back on the bed, and pulled Hermione into his lap.
"Don't ever leave me." He said.
"I won't." She promised, "But you might have to deal with Harry and Ron when they get back." She added with a giggle. He groaned.