Just one of the many meaningless Dramione scenarios that float around in my (somewhat sick) head.

Of course, I don't own the characters, J. K. Rowling does. I just like to manipulate their lives to suit my fancy : D

And last but not least, I'm kinda a newbie to the whole publishing writing on FF so please be gentle with me.

Liz 3

Draco wrapped his arms around her swiftly and buried his face in her neck.

"Hermione." He whispered into her hair.

He breathed in her soft scent of vanilla and cinnamon, drinking her in. She was like a drug, and boy was he an addict, an unwilling one at that. He wished he wasn't so addicted to her, that he didn't crave her touch, her scent, her goddamn voice for merlins sake. He melted into her touch, loved the feeling of her fingers running through his hair, digging into his scalp, nails scrapping so deliciously on his skin. Merlin I have to have her, now. He groaned as she brushed her soft body against his lightly.

He sat up with a start. Fuck. Another blasted dream about her. Will it never end? He thought. Nearly every night he was tormented by the dark haired witch. Every night he had to endure dreams filled with her seductive touches and every night he woke up before it went anywhere. He didn't even know why he was dreaming of her. She wasn't even his usual type, girls that were blonde haired, blue eyed, tall and leggy was his type, not girls with bushy-hair, dirt coloured eyes, who are know-it-all Gryffindor's. For merlins sake he was a Malfoy, he didn't get inklings for mudbloods and Gryffindor's. He needed to get her out of his head, put her completely out of his mind and find a new distraction; Preferably one that wasn't a brunette, who didn't have large dark brown eyes and who would always have a witty answer to his comments. He shook his head. No. He told himself firmly. He was going to get through this day without having a single thought about her.

He dressed quickly and walked sullenly up from the dungeons to the Great Hall, sitting beside Blaise Zabini who was wolfing down pancake after pancake at an alarming rate. Draco gloomily started on his some scrambled eggs. He was in the process of pushing them around his plate when Pansy Parkinson sat on his other side.

"Morning Draco, did you sleep well?" she asked while leaning across him to grab the plate of toast beside him.

"Fine, thank you." He stated as he felt her arm brush his chest.

His heart race increased as he smelt the cinnamon from Pansy's toast. He immediately thought back to his dream where a certain cinnamon scented someone was brushing up against his body. His mind continued where his dream left off and his eyes very nearly rolled into the back of his head as he imagined himself grasping Hermione's waist and pulling her closer, his fingers twisting her hair at the nape of her neck….Goddammit! He couldn't even make it through breakfast without thinking about her.

He quickly leapt out of his chair and hurried upstairs. He entered the first prefects' bathroom he came too and locked the door, sitting against the wall opposite the door and staring up at the ceiling.

He was contemplating skipping his morning classes and spending the day outside by the black lake – preferably obsessing over Hermione, when he heard the door banging open, when he looked up to discover one Hermione Granger leaning against the wall beside the door with her eyes closed and tears running down her cheeks his heart leapt into his throat.

"Granger, what are you doing here?" he asked more harshly than intended.

"Oh for god's sake, can this day get any worse?" she spoke pathetically. "Shove off Malfoy before I curse you."

Draco felt hurt when he realised he was the last person on Earth that would ever want him near her at a time like this. "Err, well I'll just go then."

He headed for the door, hoping she wouldn't actually curse him.

"Wait," she whispered. "Can I ask you something?" When he stopped moving and didn't reply she continued. "Why do you hate me so much? Is it because you think I'm just a disgusting mudblood or is there another reason?"

"I don't hate you." He whispered back before he could stop himself.

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not, I don't actually hate you."

"Everyone else seems to hate me today," she was whispering softy.

Every now and then she would give a small sniffle. Draco watched he with anguish as her tears rolled down her cheeks, one of her so called friends had probably said something to her. Most likely the Weasel, being the prat he was.

'No they don't." Draco replied and walked towards her; he leaned against the wall next to her and sank to the floor.

Hermione joined him on the floor, "Yeah they do. Nobody really likes me, usually I don't let it bother me but lately it's really been bugging me that every single one of my friends only uses me as a dictionary or a study aid or someone to take on their save-the-world endeavours. Nobody has taken the time to get to know me for me you know?"

"Yeah," Draco replied. "I know."

Hermione looked at him sideways, giving a nervous laugh. "Here I am crying over something so trivial to you of all people!"

"I don't mind, truly." He said.

He wanted to wrap his arm around her and protect her from the evils of the world, from everything that could do her harm.

"Why are you here?" she asked looking up at him.

"No reason, just felt a bit sick." He replied looking anywhere but her and the delicious view he had straight down her blouse.

"You do look a bit pale, and you're sweating. Maybe you should go see Madame Pomfrey?" She touched his arm and he felt a current of electricity go straight from the point of contact to his groin.

"I'm fine," he looked down at where she was still touching his arm.

"If you say so," Hermione sighed.

Draco was extremely aware of her being next to him, he could feel the heat of her left side radiating towards him, and her smell. He wanted to drown in that sweet scent. He was fighting for control, resisting the urge to reach out and grab her, pull her close to him and possess her, make her his.

Hermione sighed and leaned against his arm, he stiffened slightly and she hesitated. He forced himself to relax and felt Hermione immediately softened and leaned into him further. Draco looked down at her head on his shoulder and decided he quite liked Hermione this way, leaning on him, resting her cheek on his shoulder. He also had a much better view down her top from here.

"This is a bit weird isn't it?" Hermione interrupted his thoughts.

"Only a bit?" Draco teased.

"Yeah okay a lot weird," she laughed. "We're supposed to hate each other, Gryffindor's and Slytherin's just don't get along."

"Well I'm glad we're getting along now, aren't you?"

"Yes, very glad."

Draco felt Hermione smile against his shoulder and the urge to wrap his arm around her intensified. Maybe I should ask her out, on like a date? he thought, No way. She'll laugh right in my face.

"Draco?"

"Yes?"

"This is nice. We should do it again."

"Mm, we should," he murmured.

She looked up at him, her chocolate eyes, drinking him in. He glanced down at her and was surprised to see her staring so openly at him, "What?" he asked nervously.

"Nothing," she shrugged "Just trying to be sure I remember the day Draco Malfoy was nice to me."

The bell suddenly rang; signally it was time for morning classes to start. Hermione smiled at him and stood up, offering her hand to him. He took it but didn't receive any actual help when she attempted to haul him to his feet.

"Thanks Malfoy, for cheering me up a bit, we should definately do the whole 'being nice thing' again." Hermione smiled at him again before swiftly hurrying out the door to her first class.

"Definately," Draco smiled to himself.