Draco:

During breakfast, I found myself distracted as I tried to eat my eggs and toast.

"What's the matter with you, Draco? You've been awfully quiet," Pansy whined, widening her eyes in a way I supposed she thought was endearing and batting her eyelashes.

"Nothing, I'm just tired," I grumbled, taking a bite of my toast.

Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise and Pansy began a conversation, but I was only half-listening. I felt someone looking at me, but when I glanced around to see who it was, I couldn't find anyone.

"Hey, Draco, quit looking around, you're bothering me," Blaise said, and I glared at him.

"Shut up, Blaise, I can do whatever the bloody hell I want," I muttered.

For some reason, I found myself searching out the last person I ever thought I would want to look at: Hermione Granger. She was sitting with the Weasley sister, Ginny I thought her name was, and was talking, looking nervous about something. Her hair had become more curly than frizzy the last few years, and I couldn't help noticing the way she pinned it back from her face showed off her cheekbones and pretty facial features. I soon realized that I had just thought Hermione Granger, the mudblood, was pretty, and wished I could wake up from this trance I had been in since double potions the day before.

It hadn't been this bad before I had been partnered up with her in potions. Truthfully, I had had a small crush on her since the day in third year that she had punched me in the face. The funny thing was that it should have made me angry, but all it did was make me want to kiss her.

I had since tried to stop thinking about her as much, and succeeded, distracting myself by mindlessly flirting with Pansy Parkinson, who in all honestly, I didn't like in the least bit. I had even kissed Pansy during the Yule Ball in fourth year, hoping that it would make me forget completely about the mudblood Granger, dancing around with Viktor Krum. It didn't, all it felt like was wet and slobbery as she practically ate my face off.

It hadn't been so bad during fifth year, since we only had Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions together with the Gryffindors, but for the past few weeks it had been almost agonizing watching her laugh and joke around with Potter and Weasley, watch her be amazingly kind to Longbottom and patiently help him when Snape's back was turned during Potions class. My schoolboy crush on her was growing, and I didn't know how to prevent it.

Just then, Hermione's gaze found mine, and I quickly jerked my head away, feeling like everyone was looking at me now, they all knew I had been looking at mudblood Granger. They all knew I had thought of her as pretty and I had a huge crush on her. They all knew, everyone knew.

When I looked up again, Hermione was running out of the dining hall and the Weasley was looking over in my direction, trying to figure out who had made her friend run away like that.

I stood up from the table, my intent to go follow after Hermione and explain how things were, how things would always be, when Pansy grabbed a hold of my arm. "Draco, where are you going? Breakfast isn't over yet." Her whiny voice put me on edge, and I yanked my arm out of her grip.

"I need a little space. I'll see you in bloody charms," I told my friends, not directing my comment only at Pansy, before walking out of the dining hall.

When I got to the great hall, I glanced around before catching a glimpse of a curly mane of hair turning a corner to the left. I was just about to follow Hermione when someone grabbed onto my shoulder, whirling me around.

"Where the bloody hell do you think you're going, Malfoy?" Weasley demanded, and I inwardly groaned. What did he want?

"It's none of your business, Weasley," I spat, my standard rude, disgusted tone in place as I talked to one of my two enemies. Of course, the other was never far behind.

"Ron? What are you doing?" Potter walked up behind Weasley, a crease between his brows before he saw who Weasley was talking to.

"You stay away from her, you hear?" Ron nearly shouted, his face scrunched up in anger. For a moment I racked through my brain for who he could be talking about, but then it hit me. Granger. He was being overprotective about Granger because he thought she had a thing for me. Or I had a thing for her. I was just about to explain what was really going on when Potter spoke up.

"Ron, calm down," Potter pulled back on Weasley's robes, but he didn't budge.

"She's been scared out of her mind since potions yesterday. Won't barely talk to us about anything. I know you said something to her. I know you did. You scared her. And now it's gonna stop. You stay away from her, you hear me?" he was fuming now, his chest heaving from the effort I assumed he was using not to tackle me and try to beat me up.

"And what if I don't, Weasleby? What are you going to do about it?" It was the wrong thing to say in two respects. One, because that made it sound like I wanted to be with Granger or something, wanted to talk to her, was going to ignore Weasley and suffer whatever consequences he had in mind to do it. And two, because when I said that, Weasley launched himself at me, hands extended, eyes about to pop out of his head from rage.

"Aaarrrrggggghhh!" he shouted, ramming himself into me as I toppled over from his weight. As we fell to the floor, I hit my head rather hard on the stone floor, and my vision went black for a few moments. I blinked rapidly, trying to regain my vision as Weasley began to pummel me with his fists. I finally raised my arms up in an attempt to defend myself, but it didn't do much use. My dizziness prevented me from fighting back, so I had to just lay there as Weasley beat me up.

"You." He punched me in the jaw at this. "Stay." He punched my nose, and I felt a warm gush of blood run down my face. "Away." He punched my left shoulder, and I thought I heard something crack, and felt a searing pain through my arm. I let out a strangled yell, wishing someone would help to come and stop him. "From." He punched my jaw again. "Her." He was just bringing his fist back to punch me again, when someone grabbed onto his arm, holding back his bloodied knuckles.

"Ron, goddammit, that's enough!" I vaguely recognized Potter's voice before I blacked out.

Hermione:

I stormed up towards Dumbledore's office, stopping at the large stone gargoyle. I stood there, frozen for a moment before I remembered I needed the password to get into his office, and obviously I didn't know it. I was about to go out to Herbology, accepting defeat, when the gargoyle sprung aside. I widened my eyes as the door opened, and someone stepped out.

Pale and stricken-looking, Harry stepped out of the staircase, and I ran forwards, hugging him fiercely for what I thought was no good reason. "Harry! Where were you during Transfiguration? Where's Ron? What happened? People were whispering, but no one would tell me what had happened-"

"Ron beat Malfoy up," Harry stated calmly, although his eyes remained worried.

"What?!" I exclaimed, my hand raising up to my mouth for two reasons. One, Ron had broken a very serious rule and might very well be expelled or not allowed to take the O.W.L's and held back depending on how badly Malfoy was beaten. Two, it bothered me that it was Malfoy that Ron had beaten up. I knew I was supposed to hate him, but I still didn't want him to get hurt. "Why did he beat Malfoy up?"

"You," he muttered, beginning to walk down the corridor, and I followed him.

"'You'? What is that supposed to mean? Harry, what are you talking abou-"

Harry interrupted me, coming to a halt in the middle of the corridor, and I nearly ran into him for the second time that day. "He confronted Malfoy about you. He said you weren't acting the same since you had been partnered with him in potions, that he had said something to you to scare you. And he told him to stay away from you. But Malfoy refused... or something like refused and then Ron started to beat him up. It was pretty bad. I think Malfoy hit his head on the ground because there was blood before Ron even began to hit him."

"Oh my, God," I breathed, widening my eyes. I took several deep breaths, attempting to calm myself, but it didn't work. "Oh my, God," I repeated, hardly believing what I had just heard.

"He's in the hospital wing now, not sure exactly how badly he was injured, but-" I didn't let him finish because I raced away from him, down the corridor. I wasn't exactly sure why, but I found myself heading towards the hospital wing.

My heart was in my throat when I reached the doors, and I skidded to a stop, panting slightly. Did I dare go inside? Could I bring herself to pity Malfoy? He had never done anything remotely nice for me in his life. But had he really deserved to be beaten up by Ron? Thinking about it, maybe he had, but he deserved a visit to explain that I hadn't asked him to do that for me.

I bravely opened up the heavy doors that led into the hospital wing and glanced around. All of the beds were empty except for one. I couldn't see who was in it because there was a curtain surrounding the bed, but I assumed it was Malfoy. Before I could take another step forward, however, Madam Pomfrey came hurrying towards me.

"What are you doing here, Miss Granger? You should be in class!" Madam Pomfrey didn't look exactly mad, more confused and a little worried.

"I-I..." I hesitated, not sure if I wanted the words to come out of my mouth. "I came to see Malfoy," I finally said, a breath falling from my lips as I finally faced the truth that all I wanted to do was see if he was alright.

Madam Pomfrey let out a sigh before motioning towards the curtained bed. "He was brought here not too long ago. I've bandaged everything up, and healed everything I could, but he's still knocked out. Professor McGonagall said it was the youngest Weasley boy who beat him up. Hit his head pretty hard on the floor, I was told. But I'm sure the damage is only minor," her reassurances didn't make me feel any better, and I was completely astounded that Ron could be so violent.

"You can visit him for a while, but you should get back to class soon, dear," she told me kindly, and I nodded numbly as she left my side to go back to her office. Once the door was shut, I walked slowly over to Malfoy's bed.

When I got to the curtain, I took a deep, trembling breath before pulling the curtain aside and walking into the enclosed area. When my eyes fell upon the still figure in the bed, I couldn't help the gasp that escaped me.

Malfoy's eyes were closed, and I assumed he was either sleeping or knocked out. His face was covered with bruises that looked like they would be terribly painful. His arm was in a cast from what appeared to be either a broken or dislocated shoulder. There was also a bandage wrapped tightly around his head that must have been for the injury he had sustained from falling over. I couldn't help sighing, and almost felt a twinge of regret for what Ron had done to Malfoy. After all, it was technically my fault even though it had never been in my mindset to have my ginger friend attack the blond boy in front of me.

I found myself drawn to the chair beside his bed, and I sat down, practically against my will. My mind was screaming that this was wrong, that I should be walking away, that Malfoy was my enemy. He was my enemy.

But my body was betraying me, and so was my heart.

I was most certainly not in love with Malfoy. Hell, I couldn't even bring myself to call him by his first name. But there was no doubt I was attracted to him. Even if I kept trying to will myself not to be. There was almost no possibility that Malfoy would feel the same sort of attraction to me as I felt towards him. He expressed his feelings very well, and in some cases very rudely, so I knew that if he felt anything towards me, he would have told me. At least he would have told me if he wanted other people to know.

My thoughts were so jumbled up at this point that I almost didn't notice when my own hand reached out and brushed Malfoy's blonde hair out of his eyes. My fingers ghosted across his forehead, but even at this light touch, Malfoy stirred.

I jumped up, my heart suddenly thumping wildly as I pulled Malfoy's curtain back and ran out of the hospital wing.

I hoped to God that Madam Pomfrey wouldn't tell Malfoy that I had visited him. If she did, I thought I might just die.

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