He paced back and forth at the entrance of the Great Hall. The big battle was over. The Great Hall was filled with joyous people, grieving people, wounded people, and also dead people. But to Draco Malfoy, that was all irrelevant. The only thing on his mind right now was Hermione Granger.

He'd seen her leave the Great Hall just a moment ago, with Ronald Weasley. The Weasley boy again, he thought bitterly, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth. But that reminded him of something important he needed to do. So he slipped out of the Great Hall and waited by the entrance.

As he paced, he thought and planned. He needed to speak to Granger. He didn't know how that would help solve anything – the chaos he felt right now – but he thought confessions and clarifications might help clear things up for them both.

He thought about their last confrontation, which happened near the end of their sixth year at Hogwarts.

They were squabbling, as usual. He'd met her on his way to the library. She had just returned from one of her regular trips to the library and he called out to her, teasing her as he so often did on so many occasions.

"Hey Granger! Doing more research on Kwikspells? You're so lucky they can work for you, they usually don't," he sniggered.

"Disappear, Malfoy," she replied icily.

"Whoa, being sensitive, are we? Can't you even take a joke?" he sneered.

"What do you want?" she snapped as she stopped in her tracks and turned to face him.

"From you?" he jeered again, "Nothing. I was just going to the library for some research… Hey! Maybe you can help me," he continued with false enthusiasm. "My father asked me to do some research on how Mudbloods could exist. I thought no one would know the answer better than you, being a brilliant Mudblood yourself," he finished.

Hermione was rendered speechless momentarily. She didn't know how to react. She was surprised, not of him teasing her – that happened more often than not – but of what he said. Yes, she was mad, he mocked her. But more than that, she was flattered. Though Malfoy's tone was clearly mocking, she found his last sentence a compliment.

Lately, she was always faced with those kinds of sentences. She didn't know whether he meant them or whether they just slipped through his lips. But either way, she took that as his acknowledgement of her brilliance. Somehow, it felt good. Inexplicably, it made her feel buoyant and ecstatic.

But he was being annoying, so she figured he should pay for that. She lifted her hand, ready to slap him hard.

Her hand stopped an inch from his face, and then dropped lightly on his cheeks, caressing it for the slightest moment. She just couldn't do it. She quickly dropped her hand and composed herself. She tilted her head awkwardly and marched away, leaving him stunned.

He saw a look of awe flit on her face before replaced by a look of annoyance and slight resentment. But he could see a trace of something in her eyes. Something he could sense, yet couldn't understand. She lifted her hand and Draco cringed, anticipating the slap that was surely coming. He didn't run or avoid it – he didn't want to look like a coward, especially not in front of her. So he didn't expect the hand that landed lightly on his cheek, even if only for a fraction of a second. His cheek tingled at her touch, and he felt a most curious sensation. It made his heart thud faster in his chest.

Of course she'd touched him before, but this was different. It was friendlier – he did not know how to better describe it – for one thing. Usually when her skin had contact with his, it was for antagonistic reasons.

What a nice memory. She never spoke to him since, and then she didn't come back for Year Seven. He knew it was the sensible thing for her to do, considering the school being run by Death Eaters, and Muggle-borns being tracked down and interrogated. But, though he would never admit it to anyone; he was worried about her. He felt uneasy, not being able to see her face for such a long period of time. What made him even more upset was that he knew Ron and Harry were with her.

But then he met her! Sooner than he had expected. She was dragged by Snatchers into his very home. He did not want to betray her, but there was nothing he could do. Oh, Merlin, how hard it was to watch his aunt torture her! Every pain inflicted on her felt like a stab for Draco.

He shook his head, clearing his mind. How did this happen? How could he have fallen for the Granger girl? He thinks it all started on their fifth year at Hogwarts.

Draco was walking alone past an empty classroom, on his way to Slytherin Common Room. A muffled cry made him stop in his tracks, and tilt his head towards the half-open door. He leaned on the wall beside the door as to not be seen, and then peeked through the gap to see who was emitting that noise.

It was Hermione Granger. She looked so torn and upset, and Draco couldn't help but wonder what – or who – could have done this to her. He stared at her for a moment. This was the side of Hermione he'd never seen before. He always thought of her as the know-it-all, the sarcastic girl who held her head up high with ridiculous Gryffindor pride. But today, he saw her other side. Her vulnerable side. And somehow, it was endearing. He felt the urge to comfort her.

Crying Hermione Granger looked up in shock as she sensed something coming. Her sense was right. She looked up to see a red rose float towards her. She looked around to find no one else there. Curiously, she held out her hand and took the rose. Circling its green thorny stem, engraved to it, was thin golden writing. It read, 'Don't you cry, my Beautiful.' She gasped at its beauty. She quickly got up and looked out the door. She was sure someone passing by must have conjured this rose for her. But who? She could see no one around. Except… Except Draco Malfoy. He was far down the corridor and seemed to be striding nonchalantly, but Hermione was sure it was him. She didn't know why, but her guts told her so. And knowing that gave her an unsettling feeling of wonder and confusion.

Since that incident, Draco had always paid attention to her. And she him. But they never behaved in acknowledgement to what had happened. Instead, every time they met, they squabbled. But Draco could see the secret hidden deep in her eyes. And behind every smirk Draco threw at her, Hermione could see the concealed soft sincerity. But both were doubtful, and never brave enough to ask each other the truth. Draco decided that today was the day, the day he had to straighten everything out. But before he spoke to her, he needed to work things out with himself. Okay. What is going on? He thought to himself. Has he fallen for that Granger girl? It seems so. He was stunned in realization that it was true. How did that happen? Oh, her charm! Irresistible. But…what would father say? She's a…Mudblood. But so what? How's she any different than you, Draco? She's as bright as you are cunning. Alright, I've decided. I don't care what anyone thinks. This is my life. I myself decide how I should lead it.

Just then, Hermione appeared, this time with Harry Potter in addition to her initial company, Ronald Weasley. Harry and Ron didn't notice him, they were softly arguing about something. Hermione saw him, though. He caught her eye and eyed her meaningfully. She slowed down and trailed slightly behind the boys. As Harry and Ron entered the Great Hall, Draco beckoned to her.

Hermione's face was unreadable, but she started towards him.

Suddely she tripped over a pile of broken furniture and fell forwards. Draco instantly caught and steadied her. Both of them stared into each other's eyes in surprise.

Then consciousness hit her and Hermione flushed with embarrassment. She straightened herself in response, brushing herself down while clearing her throat awkwardly.

Draco also looked away awkwardly, glad that no one was around to watch them.

"Right then. Sorry," Hermione said stiffly, the whole time looking away.

She took a deep breath and seemed to gather courage before looking Draco in the eye and asked, "What is it?"

Draco stared back at her and replied slowly, "I… need to speak with you."

Hermione sighed, "What is there to speak about?"

Draco got straight to the point, "Hermione Granger, I think I might be in love with you."

Hermione blinked twice and gaped, surprised. "Wha – you – er –" she stuttered, then heaved a deep breath and started again, this time an exasperated look clear on her face. "No, you can't say that. You shouldn't. No. It's just…," she sighed again, her tone sad and sorry. "Draco, you know I've got Ron."

"And I've got Astoria," he replied, composed.

"That's the more reason why we shouldn't be," Hermione pointed out.

"But Hermione…," Draco urged.

"No, Draco. Ron's serious about me. I'm serious about us – me and Ron. Everything's right the way they are, I can't let…let this throw us off balance," Hermione reasoned.

"Are you saying I'm not serious about you?" Draco raised his eyebrows.

"No, it's just that… If you've just said this earlier… Much, much earlier…," Hermione trailed off.

Draco was filled with regret. But with that, also came anger and defensiveness. "What's the difference between then and now? If you would've accepted me then, why not now?"

Hermione reacted at his anger, "I didn't say I would! I just thought things might be able to end differently. But with your attitude, I doubt," she said harshly. "And have you realized how many times you and your Death Eater friends almost got us killed?" Hermione's eyes pierced into his.

"I told them not to!" Draco's voice was fervent but his eyes were pleading.

"But you wouldn't have stopped them; you're too much of a coward!" Hermione retorted.

That was a low blow. Hermione saw Draco's eyes fill with hurt, but she didn't regret what she said. She couldn't deal with any more complications. She had to stay true to Ron – her beloved, her heart's solace – she couldn't and wouldn't betray him, not after everything he's done for her. Even if the only way was to hurt Draco, which honestly ached her heart.

But she kept her face cool and her eyes cold. She turned away towards the Great Hall.

"Wait, Hermione!" Draco ran after her. He caught her wrist and she spun to find his face inches from hers. His eyes bore into hers intensely, and he leaned down slowly. Hermione couldn't breathe; her heart was pounding very hard. She was surprised, but even more nervous in anticipation. But the moment their lips met, all those feelings melted away, replaced by other feelings…

Hermione felt passion mingle with pain and desperation, emanating from Draco and also herself. It shocked her. She broke the kiss. Draco stared at her unfathomably for a moment, and then his eyes turned cold and he entered the Great Hall.

She felt uneasy. Very uneasy. It was their first kiss, yet it was a kiss goodbye. What's worse was that for a moment then, she forgot about Ronald Weasley. She forgot about Astoria or Pansy or whoever girl Draco was dating. All she could think of was wanting more. That feeling feared her. How could she face Ron and Harry right now? But she didn't want to worry them by disappearing too long, so she stepped inside the Great Hall and joined them.

Hermione was with Harry and Ron, but her mind was elsewhere. Where else if not Draco? Her head was spinning and her heart was pulsing away so quickly in her chest. She bit her lip and shook her head. No, Hermione. Don't think about it any further. There's nothing going on between you and Dra—Malfoy, she told herself. You're with Ron. And that's that. No more complication – you've handled enough of those. She sighed distraughtly, but her mind was set.

Draco walked towards where his parents stood and studied his father. His father's face was savaged, yet full of relieve and love as he watched Draco approach. Well, at least now I'll never see that face disappointed at my choice of wife, Draco thought bitterly.

For so long, they had both acted nonchalant on the outside, but on the inside they were battling with themselves. They've always watched each other from a distance. Draco watched her grow closer and closer to that Weasley boy – what does she see in him Draco doesn't know. And Hermione watched Draco flirt and date other girls.

Deep inside, they've always felt something was off. That something was answered along with their kiss. They were right together. They were meant for each other. Yet they both kept denying and avoiding that fact.

Years later, each lived their own lives, walked their own separate paths. Each constantly looking back to that moment – the moment once upon a time, when they seemed to have each other somehow. Draco heard of Hermione's wedding, and Hermione heard of his. Both never knowing each other's true buried feelings. Never knowing how much the other cared for them. But Hermione named her first daughter Rose, after the first token of Draco's love for her. And Draco named his only son Scorpius, in remembrance of what Hermione had said to him once upon a time…

"Do you know your cat disgusts me?" Draco jeered as he watched Crookshanks weave around Hermione's feet.

Hermione glared at him frostily and asked him back, "Do you think I care?"

"No, but I just thought a better looking pet would suit you better," he smirked.

Hermione lost her retort and said instead, "I know what pet would suit you."

"What?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"A scorpion," Hermione said firmly.

"Oh, yeah? Why?" Draco wondered, his look taunting.

"Because it can sting," Hermione's slightly faded coldness was unimpressive. "And it's poison makes you lose control," she continued feebly with a slight stutter.

Draco stared at her amazedly as she blushed lightly and walked away, Crookshanks in her arms.