Disclaimer: Yeah, I'm pretty sure I don't own Harry Potter. Like, 100% certain, unfortunately.

a/N: Yes, I'm fairly crazy to take on another WIP now, but that's okay. Well, this is a challenge I'm giving myself. This is a big set of drabbles of Draco/Hermione love, because I only have one more chapter left on my Dramione drabble story "Shards of a Broken Mirror", and I love writing these drabbles. So, for each drabble, I'm going to open the dictionary to a random page, and pick a word on that page, and base the drabble on that word… kapeesh?

All drabbles are NOT CONTINOUS and do not form a story. They are UNCONNECTED.

So, enjoy, and please review :)

Foe.

-- n an enemy, an adversary.

She felt like a complete and utter bitch.

She was in the middle of a war, firing curses, dodging death every few seconds, and there was a piece of her that was ecstatically happy.

She couldn't help it. The idea had wracked its way into her brain, and it wouldn't leave. They were back at Hogwarts, and that meant that he was here. That she could see him again.

Which was ridiculous.

Because, last year, it had ended, for good reason. She was not coming back next year, and they were fighting against each other in the upcoming war. They were meant to hate each other. They weren't meant to want anything together. It should not be so hard to say goodbye.

But it had been. She had seen the pain in his grey eyes, as much as he tried to hide it. She could still taste that last kiss, the salty flavour of tears burning on her lips.

She snapped her eyes open.

This was how she was going to get killed. Getting lost in daydreams was not the best idea in the middle of a war. She might see him. She might not. It couldn't affect her this much.

She was supposed to hate him. He was her enemy. He was her foe. He was her target on this battlefield.

But, the fact was, she wasn't over him. She'd tried to be. She'd really tried. But, as much as she tried to feel something more for Ron, and less for him, she couldn't do it. She couldn't let go of what they'd had. She couldn't let go of how it had felt… some unspoken bliss, some private happiness.

But that was long gone, she reminded herself.

The war crashed around her, but her mind was far from that. She was fighting, she was a goddamn warrior, and in her mind, she had no idea what was going on.

She felt him before she saw him. Her body was still that electrically aware to his presence.

And, inevitably, she turned to face that pale, flawless face, and those stormy grey eyes.

And time stopped.

It was only a moment, but it felt like a lifetime, looking at him again, drinking him in. Getting lost in those grey eyes. Taking the well-needed deep breath to stabilize herself.

And raising her wand until it pointed straight at his heart, and in a detached voice, uttering the killing curse.

And looking into those dead grey eyes, she tried to tell herself it didn't hurt. It was the right thing to do. And it didn't hurt at all.

Because she hated him. He was her enemy. He was her adversary. He was her foe.

And, looking at his face, peaceful in death, she pretended she didn't know that he was also the only man she'd ever loved.