Angry words threatened to cascade out of her mouth in a downpour of hatred and rage, but she kept them inside. Nothing she said, whether it came from her heart or not, would make a difference to him, it never did. She pushed her brown hair out of her eyes, it was limp and dull from all the stress she'd been through. It wasn't like he cared though, he never cared, he wasn't allowed too.

That was her goal though, to push herself so hard that he saw the struggle inside her eyes whenever he looked at her. All she ever wanted was to make him care, to make him feel.

Yes, he loved her, he wanted her and he needed her in every way a man could. There was no dousing the desire he felt for her, and it wasn't just physical. He honestly loved her, and was the only person he had ever loved. It saddened her, to know that his parents never said "I love you" and her had never said it to them. It wasn't right, parents and their children were supposed to love each other, and then show them how to love.

He reached a hand out to her, touching her face, saying he loved her and that he was sorry, so sorry. Her features relaxed and she forgave, that was how they worked. They fought and then they made up. He kissed her with longing and with hope. He knew she wanted him different, she wanted him to change and feel something other than hate for everything in the world.

Everything except her.

Try as she might, she would never make him love the rest of the world. He was too afraid that the minute he loved them, he would stop loving her. He couldn't imagine a life without her touch giving him a rush, or her voice sending shivers through him. He didn't want that to go away, he loved her for what she did to him.

Along with that he loved her for how she made him feel complete. She was happy to his sad, and apologized for his bad behaviour because he never understood what he had done wrong until she pulled him aside and explained. There was never anything wrong with her to the outside world. But he saw it all.

He saw her mad. Mad like no one else could be. Her rage would kill anyone but him, it would overpower his, but never kill him. There was too much love in her, he had decided long ago. So much love, and when she got angry the good pushed it over, and hid it, so when it finally all piled up too high for the nice to handle, it exploded in a whirl-wind of colour.

There was never a doubt in her mind that he didn't love her. She wanted him happy, but she also wanted herself happy, and somehow, her relationship with him felt like a self-destruction. Where ever it hurt him, it would indefinitely hurt her tenfold. But being without him, would be self-destruction too. Only much slower, and much more painful.

Sometime she wished she could go back in time and do it all again. Never fall in love with him, and be with the safer person. The one she should've chosen, the one that loved her more than life itself, but never let it get in the way of loving anything else. But it wouldn't change the fact that the one she was with still loved her.

Because the only thing Draco Malfoy ever loved, was Hermione Granger. And nothing would ever change that. He just never cared about her the way she needed him too.


a/n: Ok. So the drabble was more like word vomit. In fact, I've kinda done it before, with A Toast In A Plastic Cup, only that was a little lighter, and a little shorter P. So. It's about Hermione and Draco, I always thought if they ever were 'involved' they would have, as mentioned, a very destructive relationship. Just because of the type of people they are. The other guy that's mentioned would naturally be Ron. Please review.