Title: The Look
Author: suprockstar, on here and lj.
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Rating: T for swearing.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the mere ideas and thoughts that roam my mind.

Summary: It started with a look. The quickest of glances in the corridors, burdened accidental looks that locked their eyes in the strongest of bonds. What happened after, was a worldwind of unexpected feelings, and moments, and actions, that both of them could not control, for it revealed the deepest desires within both their beings.

Authors Note: Please read and review, because reviews are love, and I'd love to hear what you think! :D

The Look

It started with a look. The quickest of glances in the corridors, burdened accidental looks that locked their eyes in the strongest of bonds.

His eyes were a stormy grey, splashed with waves of blue traced in fine lines across his orbs. Almost an exact opposite to her honey brown ones, shining with a vulnerability that she did not realize she possessed. His stare was piercing, as if he had the power to see right through her from the windows of her eyes, and witness all her utmost fears, and buried desires. It was a terrifying feeling, an intruder of her thoughts, taking in everything that she was. With the strongest of connections she had ever felt, she could feel a piece of her tear from her being with every glance flashed, and fleeting look full of something she could not identify.

But only for a moment.

Before either one would hastily break the bond between them, as if it had never happened.

She always looked away first.

Soon, the spell of their eyes crept into their beings, spreading through their veins, and inked into their limbs. Before long, the yearning to touch the warmth of the other grew so strong that a dull throb of ache centered in both their cores.

Her body shook, as his long fingers roamed across every crevice that no one else has ever touched. Each breath they drew was hectic, their actions relieving their inner desires in uneven spurts, and unplanned movements.

In times like this, she forced herself not to think, afraid that the memories of their unexplainable actions would be embedded in her, and she would not be able to forget what she could not understand.

But her mind was a traitor, forcefully replaying the impossible feeling of his rough hands against her silky skin, all through her being. To her, he was flesh, he was alive, he was there. Real and warm, and solid against her body, captured in her hardened fists. As her fingertips carved his broad chest, tracing the lines of his skin with delicate touches that soon changed with a rough charge surging through her body. She needed him in the closest ways possible. To prove he was there. To prove that she had him.

The knowledge of her need did not change the whole body aching it suffered from when he was away.

Because Hermione Granger was desperately and pathetically lonely.

Her two companions who promised to always be there for her, did justice to their empty words, and left, for they assumed she would be fine without. They were stupid, and ignorant to the pain of yearning she had felt for much too long. Somehow, she could not blame them, for their lives were filled with hope, filled with a kind of breath of life, that she could not seem to breathe in the same inhalations. She just needed something there, something that she could grasp physically in her selfish clenches. Until she knew they would leave her. Leave her like the rest of them.

And he was there.

It was in a desperate and pathetic way that she needed him.

It was hard to understand why it had to be Draco Malfoy to realize that the shield around her being, was becoming frayed, tearing in the smallest of places, unnoticeable to all those who never thought to look. It was hard to understand why he cared. Or if he did at all.

"Granger," His voice was a husky whisper, drawn from the depths of his throat as her name floated from his lips and entered her untrusting ears. It was the first time he had spoken to her, whispered her name.

She slowly turned her head, immediately meeting his stormy eyes with hers. Though it had been dark, though no moon light shone on his being, it was impossible to not recognize the person who housed that voice.

She said nothing, as his soft footsteps grew closer and closer to her, and she dared not to move.

Their eyes locked in a bond like no other, and her body began to tremble as his scorching eyes refused to lift. There, she knew, he could see right through her weakening shield, and in that moment, it crumbled completely, unable to fight off the intruder any longer. And to her dismal, he could see everything. He saw her undeniable loneliness, her broken dreams, and her heart shattering need to fill the aching void in her being.

Despite all of this, she did not pull her eyes away from his, because in a desperate and pathetic way, she wanted Draco Malfoy to see all of this. To absorb everything that she was, and in doing so, she hoped that at least a small ounce of her burden would be lifted, transferred to him.

Because it was only in a matter of time, that Hermione Granger would collapse from the weight alone.

And that was why she needed him.

She knew that he had only stayed within her grasps for the things she was willing to give him. Her being, her body, her mind, but never ever her heart. She knew that she did not belong in his arms, did not belong against his skin, and her heart would never fit in a way a true lover's would, alongside his.

It was difficult to give what they had a name, a title, some sort of identification. And it was even more complicated than her coherent mind allowed to even fathom what he was to her. He was never an enemy, but hardly a friend. His presence was in the corridors along with hers, but never did they take notice of one another.

Days were used disposably, thrown and useless when their beings did not meet, and she found him occupying her thoughts in a terrifying and obtrusive way.

But soon, she tried to stop wondering about him, because Hermione Granger did not permit herself to think thoughts of Draco Malfoy.

But she found it seemingly impossible to obey.

Her body ached for the physical touch of his, not only when the loneliness crashed upon her being, in harsh waves, obliterating everything else that she fought to feel. It was always, all the time, to her horrible disbelief. She yearned for his skin against hers in her most vulnerable places, craved the feel of his fingers that would caress all over her body in the softest ways possible, desperate to feel his flesh in her grip, because that was the only way she knew that he was there, and all of hers, if only for that moment.

Soon, she could no longer control her mind, the thoughts she were so terrified of, forced themselves into her brain, imprinting hard images and sensations, created in the meeting of their beings. Her mind replayed every memory embedded in her, like a movie projected against her skull on a loop of endless film.

It was torturous, and still, so wonderful in the most ridiculous of ways she could not understand.

She had made an unspoken promise to herself, the moment their bodies began to touch for the very first time. Because Hermione Granger could not fall in love with Draco Malfoy.

All she wanted was a distraction, any kind of diversion that could pull her mind from the depths of the pitiful loneliness that threatened to engulf her whole. It did not matter who came to her that night, she told herself sternly, forcing her own thoughts to overpower the terrifying ones she did not want. Had it been anyone else, she would've taken them into her anxious arms with the same amount of coveting need. She told herself what she wanted so deeply to believe.

How long had it been? Since her selfishness wrapped around the hope of the first being that saw through her façade. Never did she count the days, in fear that they were numbered, but horrified if they were not. For, she knew she could not depend on him to be there always, but that did not stop the whole body yearning for him to do so. He was only a distraction, she told herself wearily, hoping the repetition of that notion would cause it to imprint on her like his presence had.

It was night, and darkness fell over the castle, covering the land in its immensity. Covering the two bodies desperately hungering for one another in its dark sheet of false security. They had grown accustomed to one another in the time, each knowing the places on the other's bodies to touch with utmost care that would bring pure bliss. His kisses were torturous but wonderful, as they travelled across the length of her skin in toxic brushes and lingering touches. Her hunger for him was savage, for every piece of her begged for every piece of him. And her loneliness would be masked, soothed over by a presence of someone willing to be used by her in the most innocent of ways.

She used him, abusing the momentarily lapse of judgement she was sure he was suffering from. Because why else would he be involved with her?

She made him feel good. That was all it was. That was all she could offer him.

She never asked for more than his presence amidst her life, never asked for more than his body to wrap around hers, and the heart-wrenching pain of the void gnawing at her insides, would hurt just a little less.

He moaned her name in a liquid sigh, as her hands travelled up his solid chest, grasping her fingers through his ravaged blond hair, and pulling roughly at the ends. As he trailed the most agonizing kisses against the delicate skin of her neck, her eyes rolled back, drowning in the sheeting pleasure had swept over her. Her breathing was erratic, matching his, as she raised her head up to capture his lips.

Then, it was as if time had stopped, stood frozen in the tight embrace around their beings. In a sweeping, accidental look, her eyes caught sight of his, locking their gazes. And in that one look, she could see something in Draco Malfoy's eyes that she knew she was never meant to see. It was something she could not recognize, but knew that she had felt it embrace her before. It was odd, and incomprehensible, and terrible all in the same way.

Because in that one look, she had gained the knowledge that Draco Malfoy had fallen desperately and pathetically in love of her.

Placing both her palms against his hard chest, she pushed herself away from him harshly, tugging every ounce of her apart from him. She needed to get away from him, fast. She tore his arms from her skin, digging her nails deeply into him as she felt a rippling sensation fill her core.

"What's wrong?" She heard him say to her, as she had already turn her head, breaking the powerful spell of their eyes that threatened to capture her once again in its grasps. An outbreak of fire seemed to arise in her chest, as a heat of anger swept over her being, bringing with it, a wave of emotion she had not felt in so long. The back of her eyes burned, stinging harshly in her head, before everything in her vision began to blur.

"What's wrong?!" She spat back at him, as she turned her to face his again, and even through her watering eyes, she could see a genuine look of bewilderment upon his features.

She lifted her body off of the bed, and stood, towering over him as he had not moved an inch, almost as if he was waiting for her to return to him, and finish what they had started. Well, that wasn't going to happen. For she was too damn pissed off.

"Why?" She asked angrily, the fierce heat inside of her grew as the fury of her revelation took hold of her body in its deepest grasps. Her breathing grew frantic, as her chest heaved, trying with all its might to conceal and force down the tears and cries she could feel gnawing at her throat, begging to escape.

"What?" He breathed out, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he removed the grey sheet that had many times concealed their bodies in its embraces, off from his lap, and she was momentarily relieved that they had not began tearing off each other's clothes in the heat of the moment.

She watched him stand, piercing her honey eyes into his, searching frantically for an answer to all her questions in the stormy orbs before her. But they only stared back at her, not seeming to cower from the intensity streaming from every pore of her body.

"Hermione – ", He started, placing both his strong hands on either side of her arms, but she immediately cut him off, ripping his touch from her body as she backed away from him roughly.

"Get away from me," She forced out of her throat with great strain.

"What's gotten into you?!" He cried out loudly, confused as ever as her feet continued to carry her away from him.

Then, his face broke from the incomprehension state of his features, and he understood.

"You saw," His voice was an almost inaudible whisper, in danger of getting lost in their frantic breaths. He dropped his head, lowering his eyes away from hers, and onto the floor beneath them.

She said nothing, watching him through her blurry vision.

"You saw everything," He continued, his words so quiet, that she had to strain to hear his raw voice directed at the ground. "You saw how I feel,"

Those words pierced into her with an agonizing force, and she could physically feel her body recoil.

"Get out." Her voice was stern, hard as steel. His head shot up.

"Hermione – "

"Get out, Malfoy."

"Will you just listen to me," His words dripping with the mix of confusion and agitation, brimming at the edges of his voice.

"GET OUT!" She cried furiously, as she forced everything within her body that she did not want to feel, did not want to possess, out of her, burning with hungry flames from her throat, and at the man before her.

He stood there, stunned by the venom in her voice that he did not know she had within her. His body was rigid, his long limbs frozen in the last position he had placed them in. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, her ragged breathing, accompanied by the occasionally poorly suppressed sob, were the only sounds between them.

Then, he dropped his head. His blonde hair falling over his eyes, and she could no longer see any expression upon his face. Moments grew longer, as if stretched along the lines of time, and everything seemed to slow down. Her heart though, still thundered violently in her chest, her breathing still ragged and uneven. Tears did not escape, held captive in deepest restraint, but still her vision blurred.

He raised his head slowly, and met her eyes. Time was no longer travelling in slow lulls; it had stopped altogether. And there in amongst the stormy clouds of a vulnerability that she had never witnessed him possessing, she saw it again. She tore her eyes away from his fiercely, squeezing them shut so she could see no more. She didn't want to see anymore in those eyes. She shouldn't see anymore.

"Get the fuck out, Malfoy," She repeated once again. Anger and desperation seethed from behind her clenched teeth, as the fire of all her emotions that had only lapped at her throat surged into flames throughout her body, leaving no mercy within its trail.

It was impossible. How could anyone even consider the thought of possessing love for her? She could feel another part of her twist inside of her being, the pain churning in her stomach as she tried to grasp the most terrible of ideas within her coherent thinking, but found it as impossible as what she saw. He wanted him away, as far away from her as possible.

He still stared at her, unwilling to move, as his lips now formed a small sneer, shadowing all his other features into a mask of iniquity that seemed to fit face perfectly. Dear Draco did take quite a bit after his father didn't he.

He took a daring step forward, shocking her momentarily. He was going to fight.

Because Draco Malfoy cared enough to do so.

He cared more than enough for the girl before him, shooting daggers at him through her honey eyes, and he could almost feel the sharp pain of steel tear through his chest. He was going to fight, and make her see. That he loved her, and deep, deep inside of her, he had seen a glimpse of something that could only mean she loved him too. He had to make her see.

"No." He shot back, his tone now sinister and menacing, and he took another audacious step towards her.

She inhaled a sharp breath at his intrudence into the boundaries she thought she had plainly marked in the air between them. She willed her body to stay calm, forced her features to remain composed, and strained to win the battle she was now entering herself into with Draco Malfoy.

"You are a daft fool. A stupid, stupid little boy." She narrowed her eyes at him, as her hands remained in hard fists, frozen at her sides. Her voice was low and harsh. "You don't even have the slightest idea about what you think you feel,"

"I know exactly what I feel, thank you very much," The menacing tone in his words did not falter. And neither did he, as he took another step towards her.

She watched him through narrowed eyes, filled with ambition for him to lose whatever they were even fighting over. His love for her? Nonexistent she was absolutely sure. She did not back away. Because Hermione Granger was not going to let Draco Malfoy win.

He cocked his head at her when she seemingly had no reaction to his movement. Never did he take his eyes away from hers, as he took another step. Then another.

"Looks like that brain of yours is failing you, Granger. Or did you hit your head a little too hard against that wooden post of your bed at our last meeting? I am truly sorry for that, I don't know what got into me. But surely, we both know what got into you."

A sinister smirk crept onto the edges of his lips, as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants, awaiting for the reaction he knew would come. A satisfying gasp of revulsion was released from her lips and floated into his ears.

"You are disgusting, and vile, and I want nothing to do with you!" She spat at him, glaring into the icy grey of his eyes, no longer vulnerable to her like she had last seen, but hard and unforgiving as they stared back at her.

He took another step towards her, until their chests were mere inches apart, and straightened his gaze on her, so that his eyes were no longer mocking, but rather, determined.

Her breathing refused to slow, as her chest heaved with the strain to breathe placed upon her being. He was too close, too close, too close. She could feel the heat from his body wash over her chest. God, he was so warm. As opposed to the cold, hard shell she was certain she was becoming. The bond of their eyes did not break, but strengthened, filled with unwavering need to make the other see how wrong they were. They were close enough to feel his hot breath cascade across her cheeks, and aversely, she could felt her own breath draw toward him, her mouth hungry to breathe in his life, breathe in him. And her lips tilted so that they were at just the right angle, so that if she could just close the little space in between them, she could fully inhale all his breath, and all of his life, and all of him, and feel him against her lips in the most passionate of -

She stopped herself, cursing silently at how foolish she was being, giving into a yearning that surely did not exist. But of course it did. Ever since his lips first touched hers in a tentative brush, she was gone. Gone out of her head, out of her mind, out of her own body, and into his, because it was not forgotten that Hermione Granger was desperately and pathetically lonely. But that was not the only reason she had continued returning to him as often as she did. He was like medicine, a dose, however the size, would heal her, mend her, as if she had never been broken. But he was also more. Something that had crawled under her skin, seeping into her from every opening, and encircled her barren heart. Once captured, there was no way to undo the deed, and she had discovered that Draco Malfoy had stolen her heart. Filling the blunt void in the center of it, with all of him, his presence, the feel of his own heart thundering against hers, when their embraces pulled them together in the closest ways possible.

But no matter her feelings for him, there was no way that he had fallen in love with her, in the way his eyes told her he had. His stormy eyes were terrible liars, playing tricks with her mind, making her believe that he indeed felt the strongest of affections for her. She was a such masochist, a creature that hungered for pain, for hurt, for she could not accept what she had wanted for so long. Hadn't she secretly yearned for his feelings to be all for her, for his reason of always returning to her to be more than the fact that she knew the exact places to touch to send him completely and fully over the edge? Had she not wanted in the depths of her deepest desires for him to crave her as much as she did him? Not only for her body, but for her mind, her soul, everything inside the life of her being.

To love her.

Wasn't that what she had wanted so desperately and pathetically and pleadingly for him to do? To love every aspect of her, to want her senselessly, to be placed alongside his heart, like a lover's did?

And that was what she saw in those eyes that had not been prepared to be penetrated by her own. She had seen everything she had longed for, yearned for, coveted for. And she would give anything to had never done so. Because now, her heart ached in her chest, stronger than ever before, and she feared it, for it was body consuming, unleashing its waves of pain throughout her being. It wrenched her insides unforgivingly, clawed at her flesh, pulled at her bones, all in the harshest ways possible. But she knew this. That this pain would only get worse. Until the time that she could no longer take it, and her body would crack, fracture, and break, and there would be no repair. Because this was the one. He was the one. To not only love her unconditionally, but leave her more broken than she had ever been.

But this, their bodies mere inches away from each other, a mixture of anger and purpose, toxic within their veins, and piercing gazes filled with determination; this was not part of the plan. And neither was his supposed love for her. Never was that ever part of her plan.

"Get the fuck away from me, Draco." She ordered one more time, hoping against all hope that he would just fucking obey her.

But of course he didn't. Malfoys were never one to cower away from what they desired, what they wanted beyond everything. And that was what she was to him. And he was going to prove it to her.

"No, Hermione, I will not. No matter how many times you tell me to, I– will – not." He clipped those last words with deliberance, stretching them out into a long drawl, forcing them into her unwilling ears. "So save your breath."

"Why won't you leave me alone?!" She cried roughly, jerking her head closer to his in the anger that had been boiling in her veins for much too long, before she knew would erupt. The tears that had flooded her eyes still remained, and it must've been on pure miracle that they had not brimmed over, freed upon her cheeks.

"Because," He started, bringing his head closer to hers like she had, diminishing the space between their lips ever so slightly. His eyes burned with an intensity like never before, but she found that she could not look away. His face was no longer the menacing mask it was before, now bearing a look stripped of falseness, his voice free of the sinister tone, speaking with one full of true feeling.

"I," He removed his right hand from the confinements of his pocket, ever so slowly, brushed the soft skin of her hand, inching it away from her body, and trailed it along her hip, until stopping at waist. How perfect it felt there.

"Love," He said that word slowly, letting it roll off his tongue full of meaning. His fingers tightened around the fabric of her silk blouse, the warmth of his hand burned at her side, the heat seeping into her.

"You," The last word was a whisper, his breath washing over her cheeks. He clenched her blouse in his fist, and slowly, he pulled her to him, feeling her body coming closer, and closer to his, until he could almost taste her against his lips.

A sob rapped at her throat, and she released it as it tore through her chest. Her tears could no longer be contained as they slid down her flushed cheeks, burning her skin in its unforgiving path. Then, just before his mouth would even brush against hers, her small hand clamped over his, and tore it away from her with all her might. She didn't want his touch on her, feel his heat on her. She wanted him away! He tore her blouse in his clenched fist, the fabric that had once covered the soft skin of her side, now in his hand.

Through her blurry vision, she gave him one look of pure intensity, before raising both her hands to his chest, grasping at the white fabric of his button down, and ripped it apart, tearing it mercilessly with all her might, releasing all her pent up anger and drop of every single emotion he evoked in her in her clenched fists. The front of his shirt tore, flimsy shards of fabric floated to the ground, and his chest was bared.

No more than mere seconds passed, and their bodies collided feverishly, their lips joined, hungrily craving for the taste, touch, feel of the other against them. Soon his hands were everywhere on her, both clutching fistfuls of silk in their grasps, tearing it away from her with a frantic force of need to reveal her soft, heavenly skin, anxiously needed to show her his feelings were true, because if he couldn't, he wouldn't be able to bear it.

Her hands moved meaningfully down his solid chest, the heat of him almost burning her fingers, until it they stopped at his hips, fingering his belt with utter passion. She gripped the leather in her fingers, and pulled with great might at it, ripping a fair amount of the belt loops of his pants apart, leaving his belt to sway, lopsided around his hips. Tearing her lips away from his, she dropped to her knees in front of him, still grasping the hanging leather in her fingers. She stared at the buckle before her, the fire of a different kind of determination flashing in her eyes. He watched her drop before him, his chest heaving as his heart thundered purposely inside of him, and he was reminded of his task.

He stared as she slowly fingered that gold buckle, teasing it with her fingertips, teasing him, and he swallowed hard. He quickly grasped her wrists before she could unbuckle the gold, hanging loosely, much too low in front of him, and pulled her to her feet, her eyes full of surprise and most likely a similar confusion that had graced his features earlier. Her cheeks were stained heavily by her tears, and he could not help but lay his calloused hand as gently as he could, against her wet cheek, and wipe away the tears that still continued to fall.

"You don't believe me," He whispered, his voice low and husky, as his other arm laced around her slender waist, feeling her soft skin on his through the shards of fabric still intact with her blouse, pulling her up against him. "Is that it? Is that why you keep telling me to go away? Because you think I'm just saying all of this, to what? Mess with your mind? You saw for yourself, Hermione. How I feel. How much I feel for you. You've seen it, and I've said it. So why don't you believe it?"

His stormy eyes scorched hers, as they strained to find an answer in her own honey ones. She dropped her eyes, staring at the ground around them, and saw the torn and tattered fabric of their clothing scattered amongst them in their abrupt explosion of aggression. She could not longer deny it.

"That's not it," She started, her eyes returned to his, as she conjured up every ounce of courage in her small being, and released the desperate and pathetic truth.

"You say you love me, now. But you'll leave me."

She watched his eyes widened with surprise, and before he could release a word, she lifted a finger and pressed it gently against his lips. "You can deny it, but it'll happen. And I was so selfish, I though that if you had no feelings for me, I could reject the ones I felt, and when you left, the pain would not feel so bad. But then - all of this – was just too much. You were never meant to love me, you were never meant to feel anything for me. Especially not the same way I feel about you."

He said nothing after she had finished, silence surrounding them in burdened grasps.

Then, in the lowest of whispers, he replied, "So that's why you won't let me love you,"

She cringed, as those raw and tender words felt too new to her ears, and her body unwillingly faltered against his. He felt it, and he chose to bring her even closer to him, lowering his lips upon her naked shoulder, and dusted it with the softest of kisses. Her eyelids fell, silently scorning herself for succumbing to lust of his touch.

"'Mione," His hot breath floated across her skin, as she could not help but shudder under that wonderful but terrifying feeling.

"I would never leave you. You are all I have ever wanted, all I could ever need."

His kisses trailed up along her neck, his lips barely brushing the most sensitive spot behind her ear, and she could feel her body pulling towards him, wanting more, wanting everything. His hands travelled from her waist, his heat sliding to the back of her legs, and in swift motion, lifted her up as if she were light as a feather, bringing her lean legs to wrap around his waist, and her arms to lace behind his neck. She let out a light gasp at the sudden closeness of their beings, feeling the warmth of his body beneath hers, feeling his heartbeat beating as frantically as the one inside her chest did.

"You have to believe me, Hermione."

He lowered his head down once again, this time to her chest, laying his lips on the tender spot right above her heart, and she shuddered once again at the vulnerability she could help but show. But at the moment, she could not bring herself to care, for his kisses felt too good, too right. His kisses fell lower, down her chest, and onto her soft, exposed stomach, as she felt her body arch back, revelling in the utmost pleasure of his touch upon her skin. Slowly, she lifted herself upright, shivers running up and down her spine, clouding any coherent thinking in her mind. Finally, her eyelids lifted, and there before her, she saw his eyes staring deep, and tenderly into hers. She could not tear hers away, only basking in the intensity of their gaze, and in that one look, drawn from the ocean depths of his stormy blue eyes, she could see the one thing she knew he was desperately trying to say without the raw use of words.

Let me love you,

Her breath caught in her throat at the rawness of his plea, and almost immediately, their lips collided once again, the most passionate of feelings expressed through the sincerity of their kisses.

Something inside her body shifted, changed, and for the first time in a long time, Hermione Granger did not feel so alone. The loneliness that had threatened to engulf her whole, wavered, and she could feel a warmth invade her heart, melting the pain upon it, it felt from the void amongst it.

He was all she could ever wish for, why was she denying herself from the love that would most beautifully bloom from the union of their hearts? Because she was scared, for what he had offered to her was wonderful, and odd, but terrifying all in the exact same ways.

She took another sharp breath, looking into his stormy grey eyes one more time, before lowering her lips to his, but only close enough so that they grazed in the softest of brushes.

She found the courage she did not know she possessed inside of her, and willed her throat to release the words she had desperately and pathetically wanted to say for so long.

"I love you. And I believe you,"

She could feel him shift under her, and almost immediately their lips collided in havoc, as every breath taken only feed the hunger for each other rising deep from within their cores. His long fingers stalked throughout her body, caressing every piece of bare skin she revealed, in hard strokes, ridden with pure need.

She abandoned all of her inner demons, that still rapped at her chest, whispering horrid thoughts and unpleasant feelings about how he would surely leave her, and banished them into the dark, unwanted place of her mind, shutting the gates upon them, and vowed to never release them.

Because Hermione Granger could not live without Draco Malfoy. Their love was desperate, and pathetic and all things in between.

It started with a look, accidental as it may have seemed, sparked the most intimate and intense bond of their beings, and let flourish a love that was so desperate and pathetic, and true, to surround them in its tightest embrace.