Disclaimer: The wonderful world of Harry Potter belongs to that utter genius J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. I am not J.K. Rowling and have nothing to do with Warner Brothers, so as you may have guessed I don't own the copyright. I'm not making any money from this, but will love you forever if you review. (But no flames please.) - Dramaqueen

Chapter Two: Draco's PoV

Draco sat in the Head Student office, waiting for Hermione to arrive. She was already five minutes late and he was only going to give her another five. Of course, the fact that he was waiting at all went completely against his better judgement. Malfoys didn't wait for anyone; especially not a filthy mudblood like Hermione Granger. So why was he waiting? The question circled round his mind as he tried to come up with the answer.

'She's probably got magical blood from some distant relative her stupid muggle family don't know about.' He thought. 'No one without any magic in their family can be that good a witch.' This decision wasn't quite enough to answer Draco's nagging thought, but it was a start; it helped him to think that Hermione's blood might not be quite as impure as he had been led to believe. It made the fact he was waiting for her slightly less degrading. Not that a Malfoy would ever degrade themselves. It just wasn't possible.

It was at that moment that Draco heard footsteps followed by a familiar voice outside the door. It swung open and Hermione stepped inside.

"And where have you been?"…………

………… "Don't think this makes us friends." Draco instructed as he kissed Hermione's bear skin a while later.

"You've said that almost every day for the last three months." She reminded him, throwing his underwear on the floor.

"I say it because I mean it. I may screw you Granger but that doesn't mean I like you."

"Well I'm not exactly jumping to be your best friend."

For the next half an hour neither one spoke as instead they put their mouths to a different use. Their hands slid over each other's now naked bodies and they temporarily forgot their mutual dislike. As Draco twirled his slender fingers in Hermione's hair he was vaguely (and uncomfortably) aware of how right being with her felt. It was a feeling that he had often had before, and each time it grew harder to dismiss. There was just something about her; something in the way she looked and felt. Even her scent drove Draco wild. He hated that he felt this way; that he was beginning to feel something other than lust and loathing for the young witch. This wasn't supposed to mean anything. It was just supposed to be a bit of harmless fun; a distraction from the responsibility of being Head Boy and the pressure of his forthcoming N.E.W.Ts. But over the past few months he had begun to see her in a new light. It wasn't exactly a secret that Hermione was intelligent, but what Draco hadn't realised until now was that she was much more than just a brainy know-it-all. For a start, she genuinely cared about things: her friends and family, including that oaf Hagrid and the entire Weasley clan; that mangy cat of hers whose name Draco could never remember, and for some inexplicable reason she even cared about house-elves. As a rule the Malfoys considered caring about someone or something to be a weakness, but with Hermione it was different. She had gone through so much in the last few years and if anything it had only made her stronger. Then there was the fact that, going on what she had told him over the past few months, Hermione had broken almost every school rule there was. Of course, she generally avoided getting caught, possibly due to the fact that the majority of teachers were completely oblivious to the possibility that she would dare do something wrong. It was this reputation for following the rules that helped the pair get away with so much; after all, even if someone did realise that for Draco and Hermione to spend so much time together they must not hate each other as much as they claimed, they would never believe good-little-Granger would do something as forbidden as have sex on school property.

'Come to think of it,' mused Draco as he kissed her neck, 'I doubt anyone would believe that she'd have sex anywhere.' At this thought, Draco began to muse over how quickly he'd have cursed someone if, three months ago, they had suggested that he himself would soon be sleeping with Granger on a regular basis. Not that they ever slept. If Draco was honest with himself he was scared of literally sleeping with her. To him, actually sleeping with someone suggested a kind of intimacy that he felt unready to share with anyone, let alone Hermione. It would mean admitting to himself; to her; that his feelings for her were about more than something physical, and there was no way he was ready for that.

'This is nothing. It means nothing.' Draco thought. He and Hermione were beginning to get dressed now, and a voice in his head was screaming at him to hold her.

'Why would I want to do that? It's not as if I even like the girl that much.' But the voice disagreed: 'You keep trying to convince yourself that. Meanwhile, I'll keep thinking about her every second of the day.'

"I am NOT in love with Granger!" Hermione dropped the sock she'd been about to put on and stared, flabbergasted, at Malfoy. Only then did he realise that he'd spoken out loud.