There's a place I'd like to go somewhere out west,
It's not specific, and the pictures show it best.
I know there's trees, I know there's sand, and I know there's grass,
I know it's somewhere in the past.
There's a girl out there who's looking for it too,
She's not sure when she'll go or exactly what she'll do.

There had always been something odd about that Hermione Granger.

The Slytherin prince could not, for the life of him, figure out why he was so goddamn attracted to this...this Gryffindor! Was it the way her brown curls were so long that it rained down on him, caressing his entire body? The way her hands, smooth and gentle, protected him from the constant fear that threatened to eat away his being? Or was it the way her warmth cascaded throughout his soul, lighting a path of fire beneath his frozen heart? Either way, Draco understood that none of these feelings had ever once applied to Hermione Granger, not in the least. But why now? Why did Hermione have to come to his rescue, purging his conscious of evil thoughts? Draco was sickened by the very glimpse of any form of love, but now that he had felt it and now that he had actually experienced some form of that dreaded love, he had no clue as what to do. Did he fight it? Or did he embrace it?

"Oh bloody hell," Draco shouted at his thoughts, feeling every jolt of pain course through him. "When had things become so difficult?" Then, as if she had read his thoughts, her hand scraped seductively down his muscular, pale chest. His eyes shut instinctively, savoring the feel of Hermione's touch, as if she could be gone within seconds. Which was partially true. Draco had not an ounce of understanding over this situation, all he knew was that today was great, but tomorrow could be hell...and with his mouth and rebuttals, it most likely would be. As for now, Draco reveled in this sweet moment where Hermione's hand felt heavenly against his stained skin. To Draco, she had now been molded into his life just by a simple touch and he knew he would always acknowledge her as someone whom he had cared so very deeply for, but never admitted it.

"Draco," he shuddered at the sound of his name and the way it rolled from Hermione's tongue, so enchanting that he could no longer deny the way he felt. "Draco, I should get going...really, it's late."

"Don't." Draco murmured, not looking into her pleading brown eyes. Brown. The only color he had grown to love and nurture. Not gray, not black. Just brown. "Stay."

"It's past curfew." Hermione stated, a sense of caution slurred into her speech. "I don't want us getting carried away either, Draco, you know I am not ready to be that intimate with you." The word intimate threatened to knock the wind out of his lungs, could she not just say sex? That word implied love and Draco Malfoy did not like love one bit.

"Just stay, I will not force you into anything. Just sleep here tonight. No one will find out, after all, we do have our own Head Prefect common room." There it was, the classic Draco smirk that always had Hermione teetering on the edge of bliss and pure annoyance. His smirk disappeared when he realized what he was getting himself into and Hermione sensed his hesitation, stealing a quick kiss from his supple lips and dragging her body out of bed. The spot where her hand was once lying now became an icy reminder of what Draco could lose. Within a flash, Draco had grasped out to catch her wrist and pull her back onto the bed. A shriek escaped from the brim of her swollen lips, beckoning Draco to capture her mouth once more. This time, though, the kiss was sweet and filled with a fiery passion that he had never experienced with any other girl. For the most part, it scared the bloody magic right out of him! He did not want it to get to this point, ever. Even though he knew pulling away would cause some sort of argument to erupt from Hermione, Draco slipped out from under her lavender and vanilla scented body to pace around his room.

"I'll see you in the morning, Draco." Hermione lifted her chin to caress his lips one last time before setting off towards the door, looking back only to catch a glimpse of Draco pulling on his school robes and following her to the door.

"Good night, Hermione." No matter how hard-headed Draco was at times, he still carried a soft spot for her. He didn't want to admit it, but Hermione was his beloved little Gryffindor whether or not she was a muggle-born witch. It was Draco's turn to make her swoon by gracefully sweeping his lips over her rosy cheek bone while his hand rested at the small of her back. "Sweet dreams, Granger."

Then Draco was gone, heading for the portrait that hid the confines of their common room. "That bloody idiot really knows how to get under my skin." Hermione sighed before too disappearing into her maroon and gold stripped room.

…

Draco kicked his way into the Room of Requirement with such force he thought he would summon all of the ghosts that resided inside Hogwarts. Books and boxes fell around his feet when he tore through to the spot where he always collected his thoughts, but his mind was even more cluttered than this room was, he didn't know how he would sort through everything.

"Oh blimey, if this continues then I'll find myself trying to explain to my father why I was disobeying his orders." Draco huffed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. Without hesitation, he slid his sleeve over the Dark Mark that Hermione had only seen once, but did not run from. As Draco stood there, watching over the skull and snake, he thought about how special Granger really was to him. How she did not judge him by the way he was raised, but by the way he was fighting to become someone he wanted to be, not what his father wanted. "Malfoy? What the bloody hell are you doing up here?" It was Potter, the head of the Golden Trio, the one Malfoy despised the most.

"Oh what a wonderful fucking surprise! Like I needed his shit on top of sorting through my feelings!" Draco's thoughts crashed through his brain, making it utterly impossible for him to have time to create a witty remark.

"Just bug off, Scar-head! I'm not in the mood to deal with your crap."

Harry, being very hard-headed, pressed into the matter even further. "Is the Head Boy having problems?"

"What the hell would you know about problems? You have the least worries between the two of us." At that statement, Harry snickered loudly.

"And I suppose you are the one being hunted by Voldemort?" If only Harry knew how much truth that questioned posed for Draco. If only someone knew how much Draco was being forced to endure, if only he could open up to Hermione...someone, anyone.

When Draco did not answer, Harry looked up to him and noticed how distant he seemed, as if something far away was so much better than where he was now. Anger was welling up inside of Draco, causing him to clench his fists until the skin on his knuckles went white. He knew opening up to someone was not a possibility. Everyone, including Hermione, would believe he was a monster. Hermione had no clue as to what this Dark Mark meant for him. The story she knew was of his father, manipulating Draco just enough for him to get the mark, but that was only half of the truth.

"Malfoy! Hey Ferret!" Without a moment of hesitation, Draco had his wand pulled up to Harry's neck, shaking with the anger that threatened to spill forth.

"Listen, Potter-" Draco spat. "Don't you ever, for once in your life, assume that my life is everything it's held up to be, got it? You don't know my troubles." As if he had shouted the truth, Harry's eyes wandered down to his forearm where the Dark Mark lay hidden beneath the school's robe. Draco had always known that Harry had suspected him of pledging his allegiance with Voldemort and becoming a Death Eater.

Draco said nothing more before turning on his heel and exiting the Room of Requirement, bumping straight into a bushy haired girl in the corridor.

"Hey, watch where- Granger? What are you doing out here?" Draco's eyes wandered over her delectable curves held tightly in the comfort of her robes and for a moment he smirked, he was the only one who ever had the joy of getting close to her passion crazed side.

"Harry asked me to meet him out here...what are you doing out?" Hermione blushed while trying to keep the conversation serious, the way his eyes filled with unknown emotions at the sight of her made her feel wanted for once.

"Roaming, like usual." Draco knew too well if he told Hermione what had happened between Harry and him just a few minutes ago, things would turn downhill. But what if Harry told her? He sighed, once again catching the sight of Hermione. "I don't sleep well, Granger. I prefer to prowl the dark corridors, okay? Unless you want to come to bed with me." Draco wagged his eyebrows seductively at her, getting the perfect reaction in the form of a giddy laugh. Then they embraced each other, their bodies shaking with fits of laughter. Eventually the heat that formed between them caught their attention and their hands searched each others bodies, memorizing the delicate touches. Draco's thumb rubbed over her bottom lip while emitting a smile, she always knew how to make him happy. Hermione leaned forward and gently brushed her mouth against his jaw line, shivers spiraling down both of their spines at the contact.

"Hermione! Hell, what are you doing!" Harry's shouts froze both of them, each standing still while their arms were tangled around the other.

There was no explanation for this; it was exactly what Harry saw, nothing more and nothing less. With a boost of confidence, Hermione wiggled free from Draco's grasp, but intertwined their hands with a smile. Draco's face was twisted between annoyance for Potter disturbing their very sexy moment and shock at Hermione's actions.

"Yes, Harry?" Hermione spoke, her voice taking on a very innocent tone.

Harry stood wide-eyed and angry, how could his best friend be snogging his enemy? "You're with...MALFOY?" The last shout made Hermione jump, Harry was rarely this angry.

Draco was about to hurl a few insults back at Harry, but the tiniest squeeze from Hermione's hand convinced him that she could handle this.

"Yes, I am with Draco." Hermione pronounced his first name with such prestige, Harry's mouth almost fell open and hit the ground; now they were on a first name basis? "Now we'll be on our way." Hermione shot Harry one more glare before waltzing down the hallway with Draco.

What would happen now?

"Hermione," Draco pulled them off to the side, his voice filled with warmth and tenderness, a side she never saw. "I'm going to make you mine." With that, their lips crashed together once more. Draco tasted of a fine wine and Hermione tasted of honey, but when combined, it was delicious. They could never get their fill of each other, their bodies pressing deeper against the other.

When Hermione broke away again, he groaned.

"Past curfew, Draco." Hermione giggled, heading back to their Head common room. Draco shook his head in defeat, knowing that tomorrow was going to be completely different when they had to face the world...or at least Harry, for the most part.