The fierce wind hissed and whipped her hair across her rosy cheeks, and even though she had put on her thickest scark and her woolen jumper her teeth were still chattering violently and she felt goose bumps trailing up her skin. That cold day was important to most hogwarts students, the last quidditch game of the year, an intense and fierce game between the slytherin and griffindor.

She really did hate quidditch, it just that is was kind of pointless…

Someone caught a big ball and then threw, and then another would hit people with thick bats and then someone else would catch a little golden ball. What made it so amazing? To be honest the only reason she turned up every game was to support Ron, Harry and Ginny, and even then she still hid a book in her coat during in breakfast so that she could read during the match.

But that day she had forgetten to pack Pride and Prejudice (the muggle book her parents had given her before she had left for the Hogwarts express) and just stood in the stands with the other griffindors, lost in her own thoughts. I really must go to the library and grab a book that I need for the charms essay after the match, she thought to herself, ohh and I must talk to Malfoy about having a meeting with the prefects later this week and make a roaster about when we each have do our rounds around the school.

Earlier that year, Hermione had received a letter from the new headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagal, saying that she was invited to complete her last year at Hogwarts and that a surprise awaited her there if she accepted. Of course, she had replied as soon as she had finished reading the letter and jumping up and down in excitement saying that of course that she would come back and thank you so much for asking her.

During the welcoming feast on the first of September the 'surprise' was revealed to her . SHE WAS HEAD GIRL! She had been so excited, so thankful that McGonagal had given her the opportunity and also a bit relieved that she had something else to do that would occupy her mind, so that it didn't wander back to her memories of the war that still plagued her, night and day The only let down was that head boy was Draco Malfoy. In a way she understood why he had been made head boy, he was always only a couple of steps behind her during exams and the like, and around teachers he did seem well-mannered and responsible. But how did he manage to escape a private cell in Azkaban? How could McGonagal invite back within Hogwarts walls? And how could she think that they would make a good team, he had tormented her for several years? But that year he had seemed different; more withdrawn, quiet and…nice (if that was even possible?)

Her mind quickly came back to the present when a roat erupted from the griffindor stands, and to keep up appearences she clapped along half heartedly. For a few moments she watched the game, her head whipping back and forth, as she followed the red and green flashes zipping across the field. Then a scream erupted from her lips as a body in green robes plummeted to the ground. She stood with the rest of the crowd trying to found out who had fallen. Her face paled and her palms became clammy as she recognised a man with blonde hair and pale skin.

Moments later…

"Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione called urgently, hurrying across the tiled floor of the hospital wing

"Ahh Miss Granger, what can I do for you?" Madam Pomfrey said smiling gently at the panicing girl standing before her

"I'm looking for Draco Malfoy," Hermione said her gazed falling on each bed searching for the slytherin

"He is fine, my dear, just a a bit bruised and battered." Madam said calmly "I moved him to his dormitories where he is to rest and recuperate."

"Thanks" Hermione said, already turning to the door and hurrying in the direction of the dormitories she and Draco shared. Her thudding footsteps on the hard ground of the hogwarts' corridors calmed her slightly as she processed what the school's nurse had just told her. He is fine, she thought to herself, only bruised and battered. Then she attempted to persuade herself that she was wasn't worrying about him because she cared about him or anything, but because so much work and other commitments would fall on her shoulders if he had been hurt more seriously.

Her hearbeat accelerated as she clampered through the portrait hole which led to her common room and stood in the middle of the room breathing deeply, trying to calm down her breathing. And then she saw him on the couch in front of the fire, with several bruises, cuts and his left ankle bound.

"Worried about me, Granger?" Malfoy said, smirking "I'm flattered."

"Well you did kind of fall from a broomstick," she said, attempting to stand up for herself against his trademark smirk and pentrating gaze. She took a few steps closer, taking a closer look at his battlescars. Hermione pulled his sleeve gently, gasping when she saw a already horrifying bruise stretching up his forearm.

"No need to gape, Granger," he said wrenching his arm from her gently hold. She turned, no longer being able to stand his manner. She was just about to cross the threshold into her room when Malfoy spoke quietly.

"Umm Granger, I want to have a shower,"

"Yes," she said impatiently "and what exactly does that have to do with me?"

"Well I-I-I can't take off my shirt," Draco stammered awkwardly "could you uh help me?"

Hermione sighed "Fine,". Its nothing, she told herself, its only taking a guys shirt off, I'm helping him that's all, and lets face it there is not going to be much to look at.

She walked towards the bathroom, assuming that Malfoy would follow her. Her assumptions were correct when she heared him grunt with pain and begin limping after her. Her heart lurched with guilt, damn it, she thought, I should have helped him. When both of them were within the spacious bathroomshe turned to face him, stepped closer and reached for the hem of his shirt. She gently pulled the shirt up his chest and over his head, when the shirt was off her gaze immediately fell to Malfoy's well toned chest which was unblemished with bruises and cuts. Hermione wrenched her gaze from his chest, and felt her face flush bright red.

Hermoine's gaze fell to the floor, trying to shield her blush from Malfoy's sight. Then she felt Malfoy's fingertips softly touch her chin pulling her head up gently so they were face to face. To her utter surpirse she saw no digust or contempt in their closeness or the fact that he had just touched her so intimately. Then the slytherin leaned down and gently brushed his lips against her own. She gasped against his lips, surprised (well you would to if you were in her shoes). Malfoy pulled away quickly, searching her face to see if he had hurt her? Frightened her? But obviously he hadn't seen anything that terrible written on her face because he leaned down again and placed his lips more firmly on hers. Moments later, she trailed her hands up his chest and laced her hands around his neck, her fingertips playing with the blonde hair that were at the nape of his neck. Their lips moved with usion, her hands in his hair and his resting on her hips attempting to pull her closer, so that not part of their bodies did not touch.

Malfoy gently removed his lips from hers, and smiled down at her. And to her complete astonishment began to laugh (to this day she does not know why). She stepped away, frowning and tears prickling the corners of her eyes, thinking that he was mocking her and that it had been a joke. But he abruptly stopped laughing and grabbed her wrists pulling her close, kissing her forehead.

"You know what, Granger?" Draco whispered against her hair "I think I might love you?"

She smiled against his chest, kissing it softly, and wrapped her arms around his waist.