Hello lovelies. (:

My third story, but second oneshot. It's a story about loss and sadness and… hmm. I think me trying to reach for angst or something like that. But I'm trying. Haha. & TO THOSE WHO READ MY PIANO LESSONS AND LOVE STORY: HI. I AM UPDATING ON THIS HORRIFYINGLY BORING SATURDAY, SO HEADS UP! :D
P.S. This story takes place in the Fourth Year, Yule Ball. Please enjoy.

Disclaimer : I do not own any of Rowling's characters or ideas, etc. I am simply using her characters for my own, sick, personal biddings. D:

There was something different about her.

The way she moved with graceful ease, and the way her mud brown eyes shone with a gleam of glee. She was still as beautiful as ever, more if that was possible, noted Draco Malfoy sadly. But there was nothing really different about her; he just was noticing how different it was that he wasn't with her, holding her in his arms, whispering his love for her; he was noticing what he had taken for granted and what was now not his…

He watched as the twirl of her dress skirt billowed gently over the tiles of the floor; how its plum colored enhanced the faint flush on her skin. He felt a pang of pain as she smiled at Potter and Weasley, flashing her now straight, pearly white teeth. That smile should be for me, he thought grudgingly. Anger flooded his thoughts as she laughed as something one of those idiots said.

It had only been a few weeks ago when she smiled at something he said. A few weeks ago, she only reserved that smile for him. That was when everything that had to do with that gleam in her eye had to do with him. Not Weasel, not Potter. Him. Only him. And, he thought, when we were still together. Tears flooded his vision as he made his way out of the crowded halls of Hogwarts, trying to desperately escape the room where his love, the only girl he ever truly cared about, was mingling with the others who were as equally excited about this Yule Ball. Everyone was enjoying their selves. Everyone but him.

When he reached one of the balconies, he gripped the sides so hard, veins popped out of his gloved hands. Suddenly, he started beating himself. Idiot, idiot, idiot! He cried out in his mind, tears flooding with slap he did to his face. You should've never let her go! She just wanted to tell her friends, but no, you didn't want the school finding out; you told her it was to protect out love, but you were really just protecting yourself! He howled in pain like a sick, injured animal. He fell backwards as memories flashed through his mind:

"I love you." She whispered quietly, kissing him fully upon the lips.

He didn't say anything, not yet anyways. He was still in shock; shocked that this immaculate goddess, the one he had tortured ever since the first day he met her, had accepted him. He closed his eyes and smiled, savoring the taste of her sweet lips on his. "I love you, too," he whispered back gently, cupping her face in his hands. Leaning down slowly, he kissed her long and passionately. "Mine." He said.

"Yours, forever." She promised, kissing him back.

"Forever?" he muttered, amazed. How could she promise herself to him like this? He thought.

"As long as my heart is still beating, Draco Malfoy, and yours is too, I swear that I will love you."

Crying out in joy, he encircled her waist with his arms and flung her up in the air, twirling around. Hermione laughed freely, her arms around his neck. "Mine, forever!" he cried out. When he stopped circling, he kissed her again as she was still suspended in the air. "I love you." He said again.

She laughed and said, "I love you more." He growled and told her that was impossible.

They collapsed on the floor, hand in hand as they gazed up at the clear blue sky. It was spring and the snow had finally melted, and the flowers were blooming across the ground. Everyone was inside, feasting, not including the two lovers who lay there, quiet and enjoying each other's presence. Finally, Hermione said, "I want to tell them."

Startled, Draco said, "What?"

"I want to tell them. They're getting suspicious as to why I keep on ditching them, and at the strangest times."

"Not yet," he said, looking away from as she propped her self on one elbow. He knew she was frowning now. And he knew he spoiled her and she wasn't used to him rejecting her anything her heart, that was now his, he remembered, desired.

"But, Draco!" she whined.

"Shh, love. Not yet. They wouldn't be able to accept our relationship." He tried to reason with her.

"You've never given them a chance, though!" she cried out furiously.

"I'm doing it to protect us, Hermione I love you, remember?" He whispered, looking her in the eyes now.

"No, you're not, you're doing it to protect yourself!" she huffed, "And if you really loved me, you'd tell them!"

"What--- where did you get----?" he yelled.

"You're ashamed of me, aren't you? Ashamed that you're dating a mudblood!" She was crying now.

"Please, Hermione, don't cry. And I am not ashamed of you." He said, trying to kiss her but she jerked away. He looked at her, stunned and hurt.

"It's me or them." She said, getting up. Her arms were crossed over her chest now. That indicated she was really, really mad.

"Of course I pick you!"

"Then tell them." She whispered.

"No. Listen, love, I'm trying to--- hey, where are you going?" he called.

"Inside." She replied acidly, walking off to go join her friends.

"Hermione, wait, I'm sorry!" he pleaded.

"Will you tell them then?" she said, stopping in her tracks, her voice honeyed with hope. She continued walking when he said nothing. "Goodbye, Draco."

"Hermione!" he wailed.

"HERMIONE!" he wailed in present time, clawing at the stone of the balcony.

All was still as he lay there, looking up at the star filled sky, tears streaming down his face. For weeks he told himself that he was over her, but he wasn't. He never would be. He still loved her with all heart. And he knew she must not love him because how could she? Even though she swore…

He got up quickly and wiped his face when he heard something behind him. He looked and saw Hermione walking down the halls, frowning. She looked very ghost like, actually. He wondered where her gleeful smile went. She must have noticed him staring at her though, because her frown deepened and stopped walking. Draco's cheeks flushed cherry red and he was glad he was out under the stars. But he wasn't happy about the awkward silence that filled the embarrassment.

"Enjoying your self?" he asked finally.

"I suppose. And you?" she asked coolly.

"Well, standing outside isn't exactly fun, you know?" he began, "And I'd much more prefer company… would you like to join me?" Where was the gleam in her eyes? All he saw now was… sadness.

"I'd--- I'd rather not." She said clumsily.

"But why?" he asked, looking down.

"Goodnight, Draco." She said, walking away before he had a chance of saying anything back.

Draco smiled despite himself--- She still calls me Draco, he thought, a rush of warmness and longing going through him. "G'night, Hermione," he called to her, though he knew she was probably back in the ballroom. He turned around and looked up at the moon, wishing she could be there in his arms. But, if he had looked up at Hermione, he would've known that she wasn't over him either.

And if he had listened closer, or maybe walked inside when he wished her good night, he would've seen a heartbroken Hermione slumped on a floor behind a statue, sobbing, whisper, "Forever."

Author's Note : Well, it's over. And pretty much was corny and sucky. But whatever, it was just a first attempt. I'll just say that I'm happy with it, and I hope you guys are, too. Thanks. Love you, bye. Xoxo.