Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Harry Potter. Sigh.

Author's Note: Hello! This is my first Dramione fan fiction! The story happens in the seventh year. Just to let you know, I kept Dumbledore alive in my story though he doesn't appear too much. There's not very much to say here right now, but I really hope you enjoy this chapter! Please review! It would mean so much to me :)

Chapter 1 - Behind Her Smile

She opened the Head Boy's bedroom door as quietly as she could, though she knew there was no need to be discreet. He did not occupy this room since two weeks before Christmas Eve, and now it has already been a month since then. As she surveyed the room, her heart plummeted, like it did every time she came.

Grief stuck in her throat as she walked forward slowly and silently. She stroked the green and silver cloak that still lay on his bed, breathing in its scent. Closing her eyes, she tried to picture him sitting near her. She tried to imagine that he was back, and they were once again having a silly dispute. Their debates were always about trivial subjects, such as the thickness of cauldron bottoms, or their preferred professors. He was intelligent, she admitted, and that was what made the whole thing a challenge for her. They would always end up laughing in spite of themselves. It was a strange way to have a good time, but with those delicate moments they slowly took first steps toward the path of friendship.

She could not stay in the room any longer; it made everything unbearably reminiscent. She had always shown strength in front of him, so why wouldn't she do the same, even if he wasn't there? Trembling, she put down the cloak and ran out of the dormitory up to the library, where she could find her only solace. Opening a book, she summoned all the determination that remained inside her, trying to immerse herself in it. Again and again, she failed. Where could she go if the library had failed her? Or rather, where could she go if her concentration had failed it?

Sighing bitterly, she placed the book back on the shelf and stumbled out of the library, deciding to take a walk to calm herself down. Remembering the time when he would have followed her just to be there, she bit her lip and dug her nails into her hands to concentrate on a physical pain instead of the pain she was suffering emotionally.

Even though they were barely acquaintances, and had been enemies for the past six years, she had grown fond of him when she'd seen his true self. He wasn't as selfish and arrogant as she once thought. Her dislike of him slowly transformed into friendship - and after that, more than never told him about her feelings because she was afraid of what he'd say in return - after all, she was a Mudblood. She didn't realize he was going to leave before Christmas, which was the day she was planning on letting him know that she loved him.

What if he never came back, and she never told him?

She felt ashamed of herself for being mad at him before he left. It was hard to remember through the many thoughts whirling through her head, but she knew what she yelled at him was horrible. She recalled opening the door the next morning and seeing the flowers he had left for her... She didn't think to appreciate them. It was the last thing he'd given to her before he left Hogwarts, and she had left the flowers to die.

"You don't know what you have until it's gone," she whispered barely audibly to herself, her voice breaking. It was so true.

Silent tears started to stream down her face. It was not like the countless times before, when she had cried and screamed herself hoarse and pummeled her pillows till she could not find any more strength. This time was different. All her emotions flashed through her head. She could feel them, but could not translate them into words.

She blundered on through the corridors, her legs taking her wherever they wanted to go. Her vision was blurred by tears that were still flowing continuously. She felt as if she could cry forever. Her heart ached, heavy from the burden of the grief she had experienced for the past three weeks.

Buried in thought, she crashed right into two people who were roaming the corridors alone her blurred vision preventing her from noticing them in her way. Without apologizing or acknowledging them at all, she kept right on walking, keeping her head down. Her tears fell more slowly now, but they were steady and still held infinite meaning with every droplet.

"Hermione!"

She heard the familiar voices of Harry and Ron behind her, only now realizing that they were the two people she had collided with, and hurried along slightly faster. She did not want to talk with anybody at the moment, not even her best friends.

They called again. "Hermione! Wait up!"

She could hear their footsteps quickening. Her heart pounding, she started to run. She didn't look where she was going, not that she could, being blinded by her watery eyes.

When she could run no more, she stopped to look out a window before Harry and Ron finally caught up. It was sunny, and many people were outside, enjoying the first bit of warmth for a while during the harsh, cold winter. She heard their merry laughter and was suddenly angry. How could their lives carry on so peacefully when hers had crashed down around her ears, beyond her control?

She felt a hand on her arm. "Hermione," came Harry's soothing voice. "What's wrong?"

She did not reply. With anguish clogging her throat, she did not want comfort or company at the moment, so she did not turn around to look at her friends.

Ron, who was still acting a little awkwardly with Hermione ever since she broke up with him earlier in the year, gave Harry a sidelong glance before speaking. "Hermione," he said cautiously. "Could you answer us, please?"

She shook her head vigorously. Her decision was resolute; she did not want any sympathy. She could take this alone, no problem! Why wouldn't she be able to handle this stress? She dealt with her homework and exams just fine... Her tears splattered onto the front of her robes.

For a few minutes, the tense silence was broken only by the occasional quiet sniffs from Hermione until Harry spoke again. "You have to tell us what's wrong. How else could we help you?"

She finally found her voice. She closed her eyes, took a steadying breath, and turned around. "No one can help me," she said shakily. Harry gripped her arm a bit more forcefully than necessary.

"Bloody hell, Hermione! Just tell us, we're your best friends!" Ron said quite impatiently. Hermione shot him a withering look that made his headstrong gaze drop to his feet. Harry gave him a very disapproving glance.

"You can confide in us," Harry murmured softly. "We're here for you."

She shook her head and started to walk away again, her tears resuming their frantic rush once more.

"You're being unreasonable!" she heard Ron yell. He never had much patience, really, and his temper was especially short because Lavender was ticking him off by flirting with him all the time. He was also miffed with Hermione for misunderstanding, insisting that Lavender kissed him against his will. "Tell us already! Stop being a prat!"

Suddenly she snapped out of her misery as anger took over her mind for a brief moment. It eased her slightly of her misery, and she was glad for it. With a burst of her old fiery spirit, she sprinted down the corridors, surprising even herself with her speed. She heard them following her. Silently she wished them to go away and leave her alone, but they didn't. When she finally slowed to a stop, the fire inside of her was quenched, and she could do nothing other than slump to the ground.

They found her sitting, huddled, near the portrait to the head's dormitory. She had her knees tucked to her chest, looking vulnerable and scared. "I miss him," she said to nobody in particular, her eyes donning a vacant expression as she gazed at something Harry and Ron could not see. "I miss him so much."

Harry and Ron exchanged curious glances.

"Who's he?" Harry asked quietly. He did not expect an answer, and he did not receive one.

Hermione stood up slowly and walked into her dormitory, shutting the door in Harry and Ron's faces to prevent them from following and worsening her mood. Once inside, she looked around the common room, wishing he was there. But when had any of her wishes come true?

She made her way to her room, moving as little as possible, because she felt as if something inside of her would spill if she was not careful with staying upright. Her tears had stopped running, her mind frozen in shock. Realization dawned on her again, like every other time she had let out her feelings.

"Draco." It was the first time she had used his name in a very long time, and it hurt her even more. Her voice was raspy, like she hadn't used it in a while.

He was charged with attempted murder during the summer, and his trial was two weeks before Christmas Eve. It did not go well. All the evidence pointed to him, and he was sent to Azkaban without further ado. That was it. He wasn't even allowed to come back to Hogwarts to say goodbye.

To say that Hermione was furious with the Ministry of Magic was an understatement. How could they have possibly sent a seventeen-year old boy to the wizard prison, where older and greater men before him lost their minds, unable to find the strength to carry on their miserable existences? They refused to even let him finish his education. Then she reminded herself, again, that Draco was a Death Eater, and therefore a danger to the public... Confused with her feelings, Hermione decided to stick to the emotion of reminiscence and longing. She felt selfish for wanting him back, even if it meant risking the safety of everybody else. But she felt slightly less terrible as she reasoned with herself, reminding herself of what she lost. Who would be there to comfort her when she was scared of the dark during their evening patrols? Who would be there to cheer her up with a lighthearted debate every night? Harry and Ron were still her friends but they were a bit more distant, now that they were separated into different dormitories. Ginny was too busy with her new friends and increased popularity to hang out with someone who was in the library all day, like Hermione. So who would be there for her, now that he was gone?

She prayed that he was safe and unharmed by the Dementors. The Dementors... She shook her head again, shuddering at the very thought. Her vision started to blur again.

Then she remembered the flowers, and what she had said to him before he had left. She knew that if she could go back in time and change anything, she would not leave the flowers to die... nor say what she had said...

She staggered to her bed, and buried her face into her pillow.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! Please don't ditch the story - it's going to get interesting sooner than you think!

A review would be greatly appreciated! Kindly remember, more reviews equals more updates! Thanks!