The next week, it rained so hard it sometimes felt as though the roof would cave in and release a surge of water into the castle. Quidditch was canceled, naturally, leaving Draco with far more free nights than what was usual.

He had come into the habit of snagging Granger away for a little snogging session, in empty classrooms and broom closets. She always tried to hide her willingness, with words and scowls, but he knew she wanted it as much as he did.

Draco was hanging around the Entrance Hall when he saw a group of Gryffindors enter, dripping water from their soaked cloaks. They passed him hastily, throwing sneers and scowls at him as they did.

He noticed Potter and Weasley walk past also, rambling on about some Quidditch teams.

He had almost began to worry that he'd missed her when he saw her enter the Hall. She saw him, leaning against the wall. Without a word, not even a glance at her direction, Draco started off up the staircase. A quick glimpse assured him that she was following him obligingly.

He slipped into an empty classroom, and the moment she entered he engulfed her into a warm kiss, shutting the door and pinning her in place with his hips. Her skin was cold and wet, but her lips were warm as always.

"You look hot like that." He murmured, with his face nestled in the crook of her neck.

"More like a drowned rat."

"You could never look like a drowned rat."

"Are you mad?"

"For you, yes."

The words slipped past his lips without his own consent, and that shocked them both. Hermione gaped at him, eyes wide, whilst his own face looked a mix of self-hate and regret.

"Are you aware of what you just said?"

"Yes..."

"Did you mean it?"

"No."

She sighed. "Good."

If she was so glad, why'd she sound so disappointed?

This time it was Draco who was left alone in the classroom. She had darted from his grasp and left before he could do so much as utter a word to her.

"Bloody hell." He muttered, releasing a breath he'd been holding for a longer moment. His heart was beating, his mind focused on her: her smile, the feel of her lips, the smell of her hair.

Hermione was laying on her bed, reading a book. It was late night, but she did not feel like sleeping.

Lavender and Parvati were chattering about something when there was a knock on the window. An owl stood outside, and Parvati stood to let it in.

The owl swooped over Hermione's bed, dropping a letter on her bed before leaving again.

"Who's it from, Hermione?"

"Who'd write so late?"

"A boy?"

"A cute boy?"

Both girls giggled and went back to their chattering. Neither of them truly believed Hermione could ever get letters from boys, let alone cute ones.

But she knew better than tell them who it was from. Instead, she drew the curtains around her bed and laid down, opening the letter.

Think about it.

That was all the slip of paper said.

She groaned and crumpled up the paper, tossing it in her bag before climbing underneath the covers and shutting her eyes.

But she couldn't. No, her mind was roaming all over, thinking about it. About him.

In the morning, there was another letter on her bedside table.

Meet me in Hogsmeade this weekend, will you?

Draco stood at the corner of a square, his hands stuffed into his pockets to keep them warm. It was cold, and tiny little snowflakes drifted down from the dark sky. His breaths wafted upwards like a tiny little cloud, dissolving somewhere above his head.

He saw her, nodded slightly in her direction and started off into the direction of a quiet alley. Behind his back, he heard her mumble an excuse to leave her 'bodyguards'.

She stopped before him, as beautiful as always, and he instinctively leaned in to kiss her. This time, however, she pushed him away.

"Draco, no."

"Not here? I know many pla-"

"No. Not here, not at school, not ever. We shouldn't. It...it wouldn't work."

He gaped at her for a moment, trying to regain his calmness as quick as possible.

"You're right." He heard his mouth say, though his mind was screaming protests against it.

"Don't ever kiss me again." She breathed, and then scurried away.

A single tear slipped down Draco's cheek and fell to the ground, leaving a warm streak onto his face as it went. He was hurt.

Don't ever kiss me again.

He wanted to kiss her, hold her, love her. But he knew better than that.

And so, Draco Malfoy pulled on his signature scowl, shoved his hands into his pockets, and started off skulking into the day.

Harry smiled widely when he saw her."Where'd you go?"

"I-" Hermione choked on her words, and quickly disguised it as a cough. "I was just asking Hannah about Arithmancy homework."

"Oh, alright."

"Where's Ron?"

"He's got a surprise for you." Harry grinned, pointing behind her.

There was Ron. Her familiar, friendly and freckly Ron, looking at her with terror in his eyes.

"Go on, mate. I've got to go." Harry laughed, clapping him on the back as he strolled away.

"What is it Ron?"

"I, um-" He stammered nervously.

"Go on."

"Would you...go out with me?"

Hermione smiled and took his hand. "I'd love to."

Draco scowled at Weaselbee from his shadowy corner. He had half a mind to go over and snag Hermione's hand from his, but he knew better than that. He was content with scowling, as he always had been. Scowling like a true Slytherin.

"Ron, not now."

"Come on, 'Mione..."

"Fine." She sighed, pecking him lightly on the lips. "Better?"

"Better." He grinned.

She shook her head, smiling, and turned back to her homework. "Shouldn't you be at quidditch practice right now?"

He glanced at the clock, frowned, and hurried away without so much as a word.

They'd been together for over two months now - two months had passed without a single glance from Malfoy, not a single caress or accidental touch. He made sure they didn't do so much as cross paths, let alone speak to each other. It was as though nothing had never happened.

She was fine with that. She had Ron now, her sweet Ron who acted childish at times and who always smelt slightly of the outdoors, who ate too much and sometimes made much too rowdy jokes.

With a glance at the clock, Hermione noticed it was nearing seven. If she hurried, she would be able to turn in some library books.

The hallways were empty and silent as she walked to the library, and though she had intended to head straight back after returning the books she decided to walk around a bit. She was, after all, in no hurry of sorts.

Unintended, her feet took her to the farthest corners of the school, to the places where once she and Draco had once gone to enjoy some kisses and caresses together.

When she turned the corner, Hermione had never expected to see Ron, seated in an embrasure with Lavender Brown in his lap. Their lips were locked, and one of his hands was underneath Lavender's shirt, much in the fashion he sometimes snuck his hand under her shirt.

Hermione gasped and backed away, but the couple were not disturbed one bit. She peeked again, just make sure.

It was Ron. It wasn't some other ginger-haired boy.

"I love you, Ronnie."

"I love you too-"

Apparently Lavender had interrupted him with a kiss, because his sentence was cut short.

"When will you get rid of her?"

"Tomorrow. Next week. Whenever. It doesn't matter, does it?"

"Yes, it does. She doesn't deserve you."

"Only you deserve me."

Hermione could not listen to any more of that sugary, disgusting conversation, let alone the little making out-noises that were accompanied with every other word. She darted up and ran down the hall, away, away from Ron, away from Lavender, away from everything.

She slipped into an empty broom closet and shut the door. Even in the state she was, she was still smart enough to put a silencing charm onto the door before she slumped down onto the arm chair that was in the corner, beside a tiny little window.

She huddled up and let the tears fall and the sobs climb their way up her throat. She cried until she couldn't cry anymore, and even then refused to get up and head back to her dorms. It was definitely past bedtime, but she didn't care.

Slowly, she fell asleep, never moving an inch from the arm chair.

And there you go. Hope you liked it!