Captain. Little Leagues. Hufflepuff. Round 2. Describe someone feeling an emotion without saying it.

There was something about her that had his heart thumping and his hands sweating. He'd been with her for months, intrigued by her for years before that but it was only recently that the physical effects took place when in regards to her.

He was baffled. He was attached.

She was everything he wanted in life, everything he needed, but he didn't know how to tell her. His friends had laughed, 'Draco Malfoy falling head over heels in-' No! He couldn't finish that thought. He wasn't.

He really was.

He was fond of her curly hair that posed a threat to his respiratory system when he slept next to her and he held a weird, unusual sort of endearment with her beast of a cat – an ugly thing that loved to curl up on his chest and meow his satisfaction when Draco managed to make Hermione laugh.

They both held a passion, whether it be for their work, or in an argument, or in between the bedsheets. The passion was there and it was strong. It was also yet another thing that drew him to her and made it impossible for him to turn around from. He held a weakness for her eyes; whether they shone from anger, tears, or happiness, he got lost in them. All she had to do was enlarge them, pout and he was gone.

Pet names had snuck into their relationship. He doesn't know how and he doesn't know who started it but it is too late now. Sweetheart, honey, darling, dear, angel – he'd even managed to slip in baby and babe, much to her displeasure. But she laughed at them so he was doing something right.

Oh, her laugh!

He yearned for her laugh, needed to hear it like he needed oxygen to breathe. The way her nose scrunched up and her eyes crinkled and she made this adorable little snort when she was laughing really hard.

"Draco?" Her voice interrupted his inner thoughts and he blinked up at her slowly. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I am," he responded, taking a sip of his drink. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem, shifty," she offered, chewing her lip to decide if that was the right word or not. "You've dragged me out to this romantic, candlelit dinner and you've started acting all dazed and nervous and you have a fine sheen of sweat on your skin. What are you so worried about?" He patted his pockets, looking for him handkerchief to wipe his forehead when she gasped.

"What?" He looked at her face closely, eyes wide and face pale. Her hands were shaking and – did she look like she was going to be sick? He followed her eyesight which led to his hands which were patting down his pockets. "Oh."

"Please tell me-" she shook her head. "I care about you deeply, you know that but please-"

"Merlin no!" He exclaimed, horrified. He doted on her like she was water and he was a thirsty man and was desperate for a drink but he wasn't ready for that step. Yet. "Not today," he added as an afterthought, winking at her and relaxed when colour returned to her cheeks.

Watching her so closely only made things worse for him because his mind flashed to a different situation when her cheeks were coloured so, and he immediately lusted after her. He lusted after her practically all day and everyday but this time his mind was filled with filthy images and he couldn't wipe them clean.

"You entranced me," he spoke softly, catching her attention from where it had shifted to her food after the mini scare. "For years I thought I'd hated you, but then you hit me and I felt a different feeling for you. I still think you bewitched me then because I couldn't get you off my mind. All the women I took to bed in your stead were only replacements for the real thing."

"Romantic," she snorted. "Every woman loves to her boyfriend blabber on about his ex-lovers when talking so sweetly."

"Yeah, well, I'm a Malfoy. We do things our way." He laughed and shook his head before carrying on. "I was enthralled almost instantly and spent time studying you like you studied the books. A quick glance turned into a full blown stare, a stare turned into hours, hours turned into days and the days carried on until years had passed."

"That's even more romantic! Talking about stalking your girlfriend before getting with her." She twirled a lock of hair around her finger and he was captivated by the small movement. "You should lead with that next time."

"Noted."

"What is the point of this conversation anyway Draco?"

"Can't a boyfriend try to sweet talk his girlfriend till she swoons?" She leant forward against the table between him and stared at his face, staring and looking for something.

"He can but not when he's trying to get something across. Something that I have no clue how to interpret."

"I'm trying to tell you how I feel," he provided after a few minutes of silence and being scrutinised.

"And what do you feel?" She questioned slowly, both eager and unwilling to hear his answer.

"I'm in-" his voice carried off, unable to form the word that was on the tip of his tongue. "I'm in-" he growled at himself in annoyance. Why couldn't he say it? "I'm enamoured with you," he finished weakly and she grinned – which shocked him.

"I'm enamoured with you too." She leant across the table and pecked him on the cheek. "Let us carry on enamouring each other."