Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Draco, Hermione and all other Harry Potter affiliated things you recognize belong to the talented JK Rowling. The first spoken line is from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet--or it's something like that. Anything else you recognize belongs to its respective owners.

My Only Love

By Lurisa

"My only love sprung from my only hate," I whispered as I watched him fade into the night. And hate him I did. With all my heart, all my soul, with all that I am, I hated him. I've often heard it's a thin line that separates Love from Hate. At what point does one cross that narrow band and find that they no longer have that same loathing? For me, it was a quick and sudden change, like snapping one's fingers or the striking of a match. But can it be slow and gradual?

Now that I think about it, maybe it wasn't as sudden as it seemed. Maybe I had been unknowingly fighting it for weeks, months, even years. And then, I'd just snapped, giving up the fight and letting myself trip over the line only to wake up to find that I'd fallen on the other side.

Whatever the trigger of the change, I suddenly found myself staring at his retreating form, willing him to come back. The darkness swallowed him, his platinum hair only a pinpoint of light in the distance.

"Come back," I wanted to shout after him. I wanted to race to him and fling my arms around his neck, hold onto him as though my very life depended on it.

But I didn't. Instead I sank down to the ground. I was too much of a coward to even attempt to explain to him my abrupt change of heart. And I began to hate myself for my weakness. The tears came and my self-loathing deepened, drowning me in a sea of repugnance and malice.

"Hermione?"

My head jerked up from my hands to see him kneeling before me. His stormy eyes were a gray swirl of concern and worry. He'd come back to me.

Thinking this was somehow an image brought about by my disillusioned mind, I decided to milk it for all it was worth. It was, after all, my disillusion. I had every right to make it what I so desired.

I flung my arms around him, burying my wet face in his shoulder. "I'm sorry," I sobbed against the silk of his black shirt. "I didn't mean what I said."

His strong arms came up and wrapped around me, his elegant hands tracing comforting circles over my back. "Shh," he soothed. "Hush now, love. There's no need for these tears." He kissed my hair. "Let's not think about the past. Only the future."

I leaned heavily against him, never wanting this to end. In this illusion, I wasn't a coward. In this life, I could begin again with him at my side.

"Let her go, Malfoy," someone ordered harshly, breaking through my thoughts. Harry? Harry wasn't to be here in my dream.

Draco's arms tightened for a moment before he released me. "It isn't what it looks like, Potter."

My arms fell limply to my sides. This wasn't a dream. It was horrifying reality. I had just thrown my arms around Draco Malfoy.

But he'd come back to you, a voice in the back of my mind whispered.

"Hermione?" I looked up at Harry. "Are you okay? Did he do anything?"

I shook my head, turning my gaze back to Draco's swirling eyes. "No," I whispered. They were so dark, like molten silver beneath this faint moon. "He did nothing."

"Come on, Hermione," Harry was saying. I could hear him, understand his words but he sounded so far away, as though he were shouting through a thick fog. There was no one in this world save Draco and I. We alone dominated and ruled as King and Queen of this odd realm that consisted solely of the two of us. "Let's get out of here."

I felt Harry helping me to my feet, was vaguely aware of him leading me away from Draco. I watched Draco grow smaller and smaller, not moving from the ground as the darkness fought to claim him from my sight once more.

No, I thought, panicking as I realized his hair was but a small point of light. I'll not lose him again.

Jerking my arm from Harry's grasp, I raced back to Draco, his white gold hair beckoning to me like a candle in the night.

I slid to my knees before him and took his face gently in my hands, searching his eyes, memorizing everything about this moment. From the way his eyes burned with some unconquered desire to the simple yet elegant way his fine hair fell across this brow, casting shadows over the sharp angles of his face.

Lightly, with the utmost caution, I brushed a stray wisp aside, letting it float around my fingers like silk. "Draco, I—"

My sentence was ended abruptly by his lips pressed softly against mine. They were soft and warm. But what amazed me was what his kiss sparked inside of me. Feelings that I'd never imagined experiencing flared within my chest. Utterly sinful yearnings blazed as his lips formed to mine.

His fingers combed through my hair, danced lightly across my cheeks, ghosted over the sensitive skin of my neck. They left trails of fire burning in their wake.

And in the next second, he was pulling away. My eyes fluttered open to see him gazing intently at me, his eyes of molten silver roaming over my face. "Are you real," he whispered, his hands drifting across my face and my hair as though he feared that at any moment I would fade away. "Did you really come back to me?"

I nodded dumbly, unable to trust my voice to work. Covering his hands with mine, I tried to wordlessly convince him that I was truly before him, to somehow tell him that I wasn't going to lose him again.

A sob broke from his throat as he clutched me to him, gathering me as close as he could without crushing me. "Never," he said softly into my ear, a strange desperation creeping into his voice. "I'll never let you go, Hermione. Never again."

Author's Note: So, what do you think? Please review and tell me.