It was raining outside the castle. Draco Malfoy had a free period, and so he found himself roaming the almost deserted halls alone, thinking of her.
He couldn't deny it to himself anymore. He was angry at himself. He knew his father would be angry at him too. It went against everything that was ever taught to him, to love her. It was absurd. Absurd for a Malfoy to like a muggleborn. For she wasn't a mudblood to him anymore, she was herself, and she was muggleborn. But she was brilliant. Her love for books amazed him now, and the way her hair fell over her face as she read them.
Draco sighed loudly, and turned the corner. He could see a redheaded Weasley in the distance, a male one. He was talking to someone, but whom, Draco didn't know. The other person nodded and turned to walk away, and Weasel started walking the other way, toward Draco himself.
"Get out of my way, Malfoy," Ronald Weasley said as he shoved past him. Draco sneered.
"Who do you think you are, Weasel? You're just a stupid blood-traitor."
"Better to be a blood-traitor than to be an arrogant death-eater," the redhead responded.
That was it, why he couldn't tell her. Because she was so brilliant, and kind, and he was nothing more than an arrogant death-eater.
Draco turned and walked down the corridor, and Ron sighed in relief that he hadn't noticed the blemish on his face, for he knew that if he had, he wouldn't hear the end of it. He turned and headed back to his class.
Some hours later, classes were dismissed, and Draco found himself once more roaming the halls, but this time, amongst the throng of students trying to make their way past.
It was dark out, time for dinner inside, but Draco wasn't hungry, not with everything going on in his head. He didn't want to serve the Dark Lord anymore. He didn't want to fix the damned closet. All he wanted was a chance with her, but he had to protect his family, and so he served, keeping his thoughts to himself.
Everyone was in the hall by now, and the corridors were almost empty once more. Amongst the few people not eating, Draco saw a mane of bushy brown hair he could recognize anywhere. He decided to follow her, see what she was up too, and so, he did.
As she rounded the corner, so did he a few minutes later, and as she opened a door, so did he. It went on like this, until she met up with a raven haired boy, and a red haired one too. He tried to hide behind some ingeniously placed pillar, but he was too late, for the raven haired boy had spotted him, and was pointing him out to the girl. She turned around and glared.
"Have you been following me?" She accused.
"I.. umm.. Ermm, well, you seeā¦" Malfoy scratched the back of his neck.
"What do you want with us, Ferret?" asked the redheaded boy.
"My name is not ferret, it's Malfoy, and what's that on your face, Weasel?" He asked pointing out Ron's blemish, which had been growing in size for the past three hours.
Suddenly, on an impulse, Draco reached out to touch it, and the space between the two seemed to go on forever. The raven boy and the bushy-haired girl warned him not to touch it, told him it was dangerous, but he wasn't listening. His mind had closed up to the world around him, and it was intent on touching Weasley's mole. When he did touch it, his hand felt like it was burning, and he collapsed on the floor in a fit of convulsions. The mole was poisonous to anyone who touched it, and Draco was going to die.
He felt his body closing in on him, as the darkness started taking over, and everything started going fuzzy. He locked eyes with the Bushy haired beauty, and noticed tears in her eyes. Maybe he should have told her, and none of this would have happened. He closed his eyes as he felt someone next to him, but he couldn't make out who it was anymore, and then he felt soft lips on his, and tears running down a face, and he knew it was her.
With his last breath, he thought that it could have been worse, because after all, he had gotten a kiss from the one he so desperately desired, and he wouldn't have to live with the guilt of being the downfall of Dumbledore, because the Dark Lord couldn't use him for evil now, he was dead, he was free.
A/N: Yeah, okay, I know that was weird and strange, and didn't make much sense, but I had to write it down. It's based on a dream I had, in which Ron has poison mole, and Draco touched it, and Hermione was devastated. Please review, it'll make my day, oh, and I'm working on the sixth chapter of Superfans, so I hope to have that up by today, if not, it'll be up next weekend, I'm sorry.
