Quick note: This was originally going to be an oneshot, but I decided it'd be too long, so this is only going to be about four or five chapters. I plan on updating every day until it's done, but if I don't it'll be finished by June 24th. It's rated M for later chapters, as you will see. They're slightly out of character, but I tried to remain true to who they are. Please review!

coolcrystal

Ron Weasley had stolen Hermione Granger's heart slowly. Their friendship started when they were just eleven years old, excited and unsure of the new world they were going into. Yes, Ron could be frustrating and Hermione could be insufferable, but slowly but surely, they became best friends. Besides books, Ron was Hermione's constant. No matter what changed in life, Ron was always there for her. She could go to him when she was sad, happy, annoyed. Hermione listened to his problems and he, in turn, protected her in his own way. Like all friendships, theirs progressed. By the beginning of sixth year, Hermione realized she loved Ron. Loved him more than as a friend.

If you didn't know Ron, you would assume he was in love with Hermione Granger. He got jealous whenever a boy looked at her in a suggestive way, mad whenever said boy made her happy, and protected her from any bullies. When Hermione was tired, Ron let her borrow his shoulder. They hugged. They passed notes. If she gave him a compliment, he blushed. To outside eyes they appeared very much a couple. However Ron, being who he was, was unaware of Hermione's growing feelings for him. She started to notice all these hints that he loved her too. For a moment she believed they could be together, just like they seemed to be meant to be.

Then Ron Weasley got a girlfriend.

Hermione's heart broke when she caught Ron and his girlfriend snogging in a corridor with dimmed lighting. In an angry fury, she took off in the other direction, tears starting to run down her face.

In a way, you can blame Ron for the events that happened in the following months; for if Ron had not gotten a girlfriend, Hermione would never have gotten upset and gone to the library. If Hermione had never gone to the library, she would have never encountered Draco Malfoy.

Hermione Granger didn't hate Draco Malfoy, despite rumors. He could be arrogant and controlling, so as long as he didn't bother her there wasn't any problem. The one conversation they had involved a mutual decision to stay away from each other. Hermione would act like Draco didn't exist and visa versa; it worked very well for them. In their minds, it's better to avoid a person who will cause conflict rather to harass them. It saves time and energy, which could go to other activities.

As little as Hermione knew about Draco, she was pretty sure he didn't read. Not for fun, anyway. She wasn't even sure he knew how to read. So you can imagine Hermione's surprise when she spotted Draco on her chair, in her library, reading a book. Quite sure she was hallucinating; Hermione wiped the remaining tears in her eyes to get a clearer look. There was no mistaking that golden-blonde head, the porcelain skin, or the green and silver Slytherin tie. It had been loosened so he could breathe, and the top button of his shirt undone. Hermione would have guessed Draco was out of his element, but he looked relaxed. She pinched herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming, just for good measure.

"Draco Malfoy, are you reading?" Hermione asked incredulously.

His eyes met hers. They were amused, almost dancing. There was light in his eyes, but at the same time a spark of sadness. He smirked, "Yes, as a matter of fact I am, Granger. I do quite enjoy books."

She laughed. It was a gentle laugh, and exposed her newly straightened teeth. Draco watched her. "I just didn't know you could read."

With a raised eyebrow, "Wipe the laugher off your face, it's quite unattractive."

Hermione didn't reply. She didn't try to defend herself. She just finished laughing, and then remained silent, glad that there was someone to get her mind off of Ron. Remembering him made tears well up in her eyes, as they were doing now.

"Granger, what's wrong?"

Draco was acting odd because one, he hadn't told her to go away, and two; he cared about why she was almost crying. Nevertheless, Hermione wouldn't look him in the eyes. Why reveal weakness to someone you hardly knew?

He sighed, slamming his book shut and placing it on the small coffee table beside the chair. Hermione felt herself fall into the chair beneath her, the soft cloth of the chair supporting her when no one would. She bit her lip. The need to talk was overwhelming, but she wouldn't talk to Draco.

He huffed again, shifting in his chair. "Normally, I wouldn't care, but I'm tired in wallowing in my own pity. Plus, anything that bothers you will most likely amuse me."

Instead of answering, Hermione reached over and grabbed his book. The cover was green, with gold detail, obviously a collector's addition, if not one of a kind. The Malfoy money apparently allowed them to buy in excess, even in books. Wuthering Heights, the cover read. It was a book Hermione had on a list to read, but had been put on hold ever since she learned about magic. As soon as she had gotten her letter, she read all the books about magic she could find. There were more than she thought. She hadn't read a non-magic book since, well, before her first year.

Hermione flipped through the pages. Not only was it expensive looking, but also annotated. Draco and underlined, highlighted, and noted a phrase on most pages. Interested, Hermione read some of what he wrote. Astoria, Astoria, Astoria. ASTORIA.

Always that name. It was written over and over, until Draco's hand had cramped up. Who was she? She closed her eyes, letting the questions fill her head and swallow her up. "Ron," she whispered.

"Ah, yes. Ron. I should've known. How is the fowl git?" Draco nodded, understanding.

"Well," Hermione started, taking a deep breath, "he's doing fairly well now that he's got a girlfriend. Seems fairly happy."

Finally, the situation clicked in Draco's head. He understood why Hermione was upset. "Oh, so that's the problem! Ron's got a girlfriend, and now he's not there for you. Did you tell him you were madly in love with him yet?"

The brunette's head snapped in the young Slytherin's direction. "Of course not, because I don't love him. I mean, I love him, but I'm not in love with him! He can have a girlfriend, it's not my business." Her voice picked up, not only in speed, but also in intensity. "Why am I telling you this? I don't need to prove anything to you, because I don't know you, and we're not friends. You don't even know what it's like to feel empty, and to have no one."

"I do," he said deeply. "Granger, I am quite alone. But I am not the topic here. I've seen you and Ron interact. He obviously doesn't have the balls to tell you he loves you, and you never made a move, so he moved on. When someone has no interest, you move on, Granger. Even when it kills you, even when it hurts. There're two possible outcomes here. He may dump his girlfriend, and all girlfriends after that, and you may end up together, but that's a very slim chance. Or you can move on and save the pain."

Hermione rolled her tongue in her mouth, chewing on his words. Draco could say to move on, but that made him a bit of a hypocrite, because he didn't seem to have forgotten Astoria. "Who was she?" Hermione asked, almost inaudible.

Grey met brown. Sadness met despair. Draco's soul met Hermione's, after all these years, and the affect was incredible, whether they knew it or not. "My best friend," he whispered. His voice sounded sore, like it caused him physical pain to speak.

"Oh." There was nothing more to say. Hermione and Draco had something in common: falling in love with their best friends. And, by the looks of it, neither situation ended well.

Draco's head hung, causing his golden hair to create a wall between them. He was in his own universe, consumed by the loneliness and fear in his heart. It seemed as if this was the first person he ever told these thoughts. Hermione had broken down a wall. "I loved her. I love her. She never judged me. She saved me from myself and the world I lived in. I could always count on her. I'll always love her."

Ron appeared in Hermione's head again. "I'm sorry."

"She left for someone else. She never knew I loved her. I tried telling her once, but she wouldn't hear it. She almost seemed afraid of my love." He shook his head slightly, trying to awake from a reoccurring nightmare.

"Astoria was your Ron." Comparing these two was a dangerous move; it also, indirectly, compared Draco and Hermione, making them the same.

He laughed such a bitter laugh. It actually sounded like "ha-ha". If evil had a sound, this was it. Hermione was captivated. "Yes, I guess you can say it like that."

Hermione understood she was in uncharted waters. The lioness was afraid of few things, but she was afraid of testing these waters she was currently in. "The book," she indicated the book she was holding, Wuthering Heights, "how is it?"

"Beautiful," he replied, "exactly how I feel summarized in a book. Have you read it?"

"No," Hermione answered, shaking her head.

"You should."

There was silence; the words exchanged digesting in the two teens' thoughts.

"It's dark," Hermione stated, disrupting the deafening silence.

No answer.

She repeated, "It's dark."

"Can we talk Saturday? I'll need someone to talk to on Saturday, at two p.m." It was a random statement, but didn't seem too out of place, even for the two unlikely acquaintances.

Hermione contemplated. "I may not go. Where?"

"Madam Puddifoot's," Draco answered.

To Hermione, the tea shop seemed an unlikely place for a Malfoy to go. Then she reminded herself she was learning lots about Malfoy, things she didn't expect to learn. A crazy thought entered her mind: they may become friends. That thought alone made her curious. "I'll see what I can do," she answered.

In truth, Draco hadn't talked to anyone in a very long time. Not in the way he had talked to Hermione on that night. Whether or not he wanted to admit it, he was in desperate need of a friend. The ways he built around him were too strong to let anyone in.

"Goodnight," He said, getting out of his chair, taking his book, and disappearing from Hermione's sight. "See you soon," he added as she was out of earshot.

The stronger the walls are, the harder you fall when someone finally breaks them down.