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I pulled away from Hermione what seemed like hours later. Kissing her had been like nothing I'd ever experienced with anyone else. I looked into her deep chocolate eyes, I was sure even the finest chocolates didn't have a richer color. Wow, that was cheesy. I stepped back with my arms still on her shoulders and looked at her. She was blushing, which was cute.

"I.. I.. I..." She stammered. She ducked around my arms and grabbed her bag off of the table and ran out of the library, her face bright pink now.

I was a bit shocked by this reaction. Well, I guess being around a bunch of Slytherins wasn't her ideal place to kiss someone, but she kissed me back; that has to be a good sign.

When the wooden door finally closed, hitting the frame with a dull thump, I turned and walked back towards the table. I didn't look at any of them until I had sat down, and when I did, I wished I hadn't.

"Draco," Pansy barely whispered, tears streaming freely down her face. She may be drunk, but she still had enough sense to realize what this meant. I hoped she would forget it later.

Everyone else was just staring at me. Why didn't I wait a while, give them a chance to drink some more, before trying this? I was in love Hermione, but I loved, maybe not love, hated fits a bit more, every one of these people here as a family; and I don't think I could bear losing either of them.

"Too much Fire Whiskey," I mumbled. I could feel my cheeks reddening. How embarrassing for a Malfoy to be embarrassed. "I think I'm gonna be sick." I faked, running towards the door.

I sprinted back to my dorm, not caring how loud I was or who saw me.

This was a mistake, a big mistake. I tried to convince myself. It wasn't working so well.

So I sat there, on my bed, plotting again. If I knew that Hermione loved me too then I guess I could afford to lose the idiots Crabbe and Goyle and every other Slytherin that means nothing to me. If she didn't, well, I would never talk to her again and force myself to believe that tonight was just a drunken accident. Either way I would still have someone to be with, but I really was hoping for option one.

I finally came up with a way to find out without meeting her face to face; that would be too riskey if someone caught me and knew that I wasn't drunk. I would write her a letter and send it first thing tomorrow morning.

To: The love of my life

No, too cheesy. I crumpled up the parchment and set it on fire with my wand.

Dearest Hermione,

That's better.

Dearest Hermione,

I know that what I did last night may have surprised you. I just wanted to tell you that no, I was not drunk like the rest of the idiots I was around. I really do love you, and I hope that you love me too. I know that I may not show it all the time, well, at all, but I really, really do. I really hope that you feel the same way, but if you don't, you must never mention this to anyone. I doubt they will believe it anyway. Please write back with your response, unless it is a yes. If it is you can speak to me in person.

Love,
Draco.

I must have reread the letter fifty times. I wanted it to be perfect for her. I even used a spell-check charm; I was sure that Hermione would pick up on any errors, being as smart as she is. She was truly incredible. I would do anything to get the grades she does; did you honestly think I meant it all of the times I've called her a know-it-all?

Before I went to sleep I cast a spell on the letter that would cause it to burst into flames, harmless flames of course, when she finishes reading it. I didn't want Potter to make fun of me the rest of my life if Hermione says no.

I heard Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise lumbering around the common room. I put out the candles with a flick of my wand, and rolled over onto my stomach, laying on the letter. It would be terribly awful if any of them found it. I just had time to make my breathing even before someone burst through the doorway. The last thing I wanted right now was to have to explain to them.

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