Hermione groaned as she looked outside her flat. It was pouring down raining. Just great. Today was supposed to be perfect. Hermione was going to spend it with her five-year long boyfriend, Ronald Weasley. They had been through so much together and Hermione was hoping this Valentine's Day would be the one where he'd finally ask her hand in marriage. 'No time to fantisize right now, Hermione' she told herself as she made sure she was perfect at this very moment.

Her hair - which, in her younger years had been a frizzy disaster - were now in soft ringlets that fell off her shoulders and cascaded down to her mid-back. Her face had matured just as her body had; she wasn't scrawny nor boy-built. She had curves, beautiful curves, that actually made her look like a twenty-three year old young woman. The dress she was wearing wasn't anything too fancy. It was nice and simple; a velvet red dress that flowed down to her knees, hugging her curves, and not flashing anybody but leaving one to imagine.

"Oh, I'll horrible by the time I get there!" wailed Hermione, she paced around, trying to figure out how to get to her boyfriend's house. 'Think, Hermione, think!' she yelled at herself. Once she found an idea, she smacked herself in the head. How had she been so stupid? She could Floo to Ron's house! She still forgets she's a witch sometimes. She grabbed a handful from her living room mantelpiece and threw it in the fireplace.

"Ron's house!" She spoke loud and clearly and she was enveloped by emerald flames.

Upon entering her boyfriend's house, she noticed how he wasn't pacing and running his hands through his hair, like he had done previous Valentine's Days. Instead of a frantic Ron, she was met by silence. This unnerved Hermione to no end, really. It made her feel like something was wrong. She fixed herself up and proceeded to walk through Ron and Harry's shared flat. Harry sometimes spent the night here, when he had a row with Ginny, but other than those times, he was at Grimmauld Place, where he spent most of time after a hard day of Auror work.

"Ron?" Hermione called out. No answer. Hermione huffed and quietly opened Harry's door, just in case he was in there. He wasn't. His room was pretty bare. It held a bed, a dresser, and very minimum amount of miscallaneous things. Hermione closed the door to Harry's room and walked down the hall to Ron's room. She pressed her ear against the door but couldn't hear a thing. She decided to take a risk and opened the door.

"Ron, are you -" she stopped mid-sentence. She froze as she saw the sight in front of her. Ron, her boyfriend, mind you, doing unspeakable things with a certain blonde bimbo named Lavender Brown. Hermione figured Ron had put a silencing spell on his room, seeing as they didn't stop when she entered the room. She ended the spell.

"So, is this my surprise Valentine's present?" Hermione spoke harshly. Ron rolled off of Lavender, whom shrieked and wrapped herself in the sheet. "My boyfriend shagging Hogwarts slag?"

"Her - Hermione, this - this isn't what it looks like," Ron spluttered out. Hermione tried furiously to stop her fast-approaching tears.

"Oh? Is that so?" Hermione said. "So you aren't fucking the supposed girl you said you despised? In the same bed that we've done things in!"

"Okay . . . so maybe it is what it looks like," Ron choked out. He looked so plae that his freckles stood out like blood on paper.

"You - you - we - we're - done. I never want to see you again, nor talk to you nor even hear your name, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione spat. "I hope fun with her."

"Hermione!"

Hermione didn't listen and sped out of Ron's flat faster than you could say 'Voldemort'. It was still pouring down when Hermione ran through the streets of London; she didn't care if she got wet, if she ruined her make-up, if she ruined her hair she spent a horribly excessive amount of time on. She just didn't care anymore. Tears flooded in her mocha brown eyes and she waved down the next taxi she saw. She didn't know where she was going, but she just wanted to get as far away as possible from that flat. She quickly jumped in the taxi she flagged down and choked out, "Take me anywhere. Please." to the driver, who looked concerned.

"You okay, Miss?" the driver asked.

"Not really, but, I'll be fine," she lied. Sobs overtook her body and she couldn't stop them. She didn't even notice another person jump in the taxi before the taxi could pull off.

"Granger?"

Hermione subdued her sobs for a moment, as she tried to process that voice. She knew that drawl. Only one person she knew had that drawl. As she looked up, her assumptions were proven correct. There, in the taxi, with her, was Draco Malfoy. He didn't look too different; he still looked regal as ever. His elegance was definitely still there. But it looked as though his elegant and superior air that surrounded him at Hogwarts was somehow gone.

"Oh, no," she muttered. "Look, I'll just get another taxi, Malfoy. I know you'd rather not spend your ride with a Mudblood like myself -"

"Don't say that," he hissed at her. Hermione's tears were no longer there, as now there was the presence of Malfoy and she'd be damned if she let Malfoy see her cry.

"Why not, Malfoy? As I remember correctly, you used it so freely at Hogwarts. What's changed now? I'm still that girl who was best friends with Harry Potter and the blood-traitor. I'm still that Mudblood -"

"Granger, I'm warning you," Malfoy's voice became threatening. Hermione didn't feel threatened. She had never felt threatened by them. She didn't them and she didn't now.

"Mudblood, Mudblood, Mudblood -" Hermione was cut off by a surprisingly warm pair of lips colliding with her own. Her eyes doubled their size before her eyes fluttered closed involuntarily. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he pulled her closer to his body, letting his heat soak into her cold one. Her hands gripped at his short blond locks as their tongues fought for dominance. The kiss broke off with Hermione pulling away gently.

"Please don't call youself that, Hermione," Malfoy whispered.

"You called me Hermione," Hermione gasped lightly. Draco chuckled.

"That is your name, isn't it?" he smirked. "Besides, what a funny first name that would be. 'Granger.'"

"You're one to talk, Draco," taunted Hermione. Draco had a lazy smile on his face.

"Say my name again," he ordered, gently.

"Draco, Draco, Draco," Hermione repaeated over and over. Just when she about to repeat it again, those same pair of lips crashed into hers. She kissed back as though her life depended on it.

Hermione forgot about Ron and Lavender. She forgot everything that had happened that day.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Hermione," Draco whispered, placing his forehead on hers, staring into her eyes.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Draco," Hermione whispered back, her hand running through his soft hair.

They forgot all about the poor driver, who had watched the whole scene play out. As they left his taxi an hour later, he finally asked himself,

"What the hell is a Mudblood?"

Yes. Dramione, guise! I know, I know. I usually write OC stories, but Dramione is my guilty pleasure sooo, here! This is like an early Valentine's Day present. The day just came to me and I had to write it. So, here you go! Hope you enjoyed this!