Chapter Four

Hermione took her seat in Potions class. The class was full of buzzing from students gossiping and laughing. Hermione sat quietly, waiting for Ron and Harry. But Draco came first.

"Hey, Hermione," he said with smiling eyes, sitting down next to her.

"Hey, Draco," she mimicked. He looked like he was going to laugh, but didn't.

"I got 100% on my History of Magic quiz," Hermione offered.
"Big surprise there," Draco said sarcastically. "I only got 62%."

"Come on, that's not that bad," Hermione fibbed. He hit her on the shoulder teasingly. "Oh, please," Draco smirked. "If you got 62%, you'd probably quit school!" Hermione laughed.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" Ron asked, coming up behind them.
"Talking to Dra-Malfoy," she stammered. "What are you doing here?"

"In case you forgot, I'm in this class too," he spat out.

"Of course I didn't forget you," Hermione soothed, and stood up to kiss him.

"Oh, please, get a room, Weasel," Draco said nastily.

"She's my girlfriend," Ron shook with anger. He hated the name Draco called him.

"Won't be for long, she doesn't deserve scum like you," Draco snarled, casting evil looks at Ron.

Hermione realized with a start that Draco was jealous. He was jealous of Ron. Hermione stepped out of Ron's arms. "Ron, Draco, stop."

Ron looked at his girlfriend incredulously. "Since when did you call him Draco?!"

"I-I don't," she stuttered. Draco hid a grin.

"I'm going to sit down," Ron declared furiously, and stormed to his seat at the front of the class. Draco laughed.

"What was that for?" Hermione interrogated him.

"It was funny," Draco answered simply.
"Well, I can't be friends with you if you're going to torture my boyfriend!" Hermione spoke. Instantly she knew she had said the wrong thing.

"Who said I wanted to be your friend?" He whispered furiously. "I hate your boyfriend, and I hate the fact that"- he stopped, and turned away from her. Hermione felt her heart sink.

Lately, Hermione had noticed herself becoming spacey. She drifted from class to class, waiting until she'd be able to go back to the Head common room. She kissed Ron like routine. And worst of all, she saw herself noticing things about Draco. Like the thick blonde of his hair, and the way he'd run his fingers through it when he was nervous or wanted to look cool. Or his grey eyes, stormy yet when she looked in them, clear as day. She noticed the way his breath always smelled like oranges, or how he tapped his fingers on his desk when he was bored. She noticed his playful smirk that was often detailed across his pale face, or the way he'd look down when he was trying to hide a smile. All these things she should be noticing about Ron. She couldn't like Draco. She wouldn't.

"Hermione?" Ron asked one day. "Are you okay? You look like you're lost in your own mind."

"What?" She jumped. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, just thinking."

"About what?" He asked.
"You," she said without thinking. It was routine for her. He smiled though, and wrapped his arm around her. She couldn't help but wish it was Draco.

That night, Draco was crying again. Hermione entered his room again. He was sitting on the floor, crying with his head between his knees. He looked up at her, and her heart fluttered. Stop it, she thought. Ron is your boyfriend, and he's amazing.

"What happened?" Hermione asked softly, and she was surprised with how much empathy she had. She sat down next to him. He looked at her, and she hated to see him sad.

"N-Now that Voldemort's defeated, I don't know what to do anymore. My father wants me to take his place, to become this awful, evil black wizard to try and control, and my mother is scared, she doesn't want anything like that but she can't disagree with my father or else he'll hurt her and hurt me, and I don't know what to do, and I can't, I can't…."

Then Hermione shocked herself.
She hugged him, hesitantly. He didn't draw away, he leaned into her for support.
"Thank you," he whispered.

"Anytime," she responded softly.

The next day, Draco didn't mention what had happened the night before, so neither did Hermione. She didn't even think he cared that much, until the occurrences of the next day rather changed her mind.

Hermione walked down the hallway alone, to her Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Her footsteps echoed along the empty halls, and she clutched her books tighter, hurrying. Suddenly something shot along her ankle, and she tumbled to the ground, sprawled on the floor. Her books were scattered everywhere. She began to get up, only to see two wands pointed directly at her.

"Don't move, Mudblood," a voice called out. It was Crabbe and Goyle. They laughed hauntingly. "Or else the Bat Bogey Hex is coming your way. Or maybe even Avada Kedavra, who knows."

Goyle steps closer to her, his voice teasing. "Do you want to get out? You don't want to miss your classes, do you?" He muttered a spell and Hermione was instantly struck with grueling pains.

"Stop!" She pleaded, her voice maimed, writhing on the ground in pain. "Stop, please, please…"

The excruciating pains stopped as Goyle and Crabbe dropped to the ground, unconscious. They disappeared in a matter of seconds. In the shadows was Draco, of all people.

"Are you alright?" He rushed to her, his voice full of concern. She winced and nodded.
"Thank you," she thanked him profusely as he gathered her books. "But, why?"

He looked her directly in the eye. "Just because we're in Slytherin doesn't mean we have to be cruel to people who will never deserve it. And just because we're in Slytherin doesn't mean we have cruel hearts. I have realized that."

Hermione could smell his breath he was so close, he smelled like oranges.

"I think I knew that all along," she whispered, and he closed the gap between them. Hermione loved the feeling of his soft lips on her, his warm breath, his hands wrapped around her waist and hers around his neck as they sit on the floor in the abandoned corridor. They broke apart. Hermione's heart beat a mile a minute. "You are an extraordinarily good kisser," she breathed, sounding childish.

"Thanks," he murmured. "Just, can I do that again?"

"Yes," Hermione gasped, and he pressed his lips to hers. This kiss was soft and slow, lasting minutes or hours or days, Hermione couldn't tell. She tipped her head back and Draco parted his lips just enough. When they finally ended the kiss, Hermione could feel the impression of his lips on hers long after they were gone. They sat there in silence for a moment. Then he smiled.
"I've been wanting to do that for a long time," he whispered.