Hi guys, it's the author again! From where I am, it's 10 PM at night, so that's really fun. I'm still working on a chapter, so hopefully, I'll get it up and posted by today, if not tomorrow morning! Enjoy and leave a review~

Forbidden Love, Rivalry, and Two Drama Queens

Dear Harry, Draco wrote.

I'm sorry about what happened today, at breakfast. I can't think of a better way to talk to you right now.

I don't want you to sneak out at night anymore. I know you wanted to talk to me that night. I was thinking about you too.

You should lay low for a bit. The Slytherins won't tell anyone, but the whole school doesn't need to know about this.

Love, Draco.

Was the love part too much? Draco didn't know. He didn't usually sign letters with "love" anyway. He was at the owlrey, trying not to draw too much attention to himself. It wasn't really working. On a frosty cold morning, Draco Malfoy- the famous, too good for everyone Malfoy- was out at the peasant owlrey. It's great big windows exposed the birds to lots of light, showing off their well kept feathers and gleaming, sharp talons. The windows also hadn't been filled with glass, so the chilled winter air was streaming in, blowing in delicate frosted snowflakes taken from the frozen morning dew lacing the windowsills and roof tiles. Draco, tying the letter to a small brown owl, peered out the window. He looked down. From up here, he felt almost invincible. The Great Lake had frozen over during the night, so ice skaters had enchanted the ice to be magically thicker, and they practiced beautiful charmwork over patterns on the ice. Dangerous, but beautiful, just like his love for Harry.

No one may have noticed it yet, but Draco was a huge drama queen. With thoughts like those, he couldn't have not been one. Draco's heart was warm, although his body was shivery and numb with cold. He thought of Harry, and a rumored chance encounter with Cho Chang in their fourth year. Harry had liked her, before. She was a crybaby though, and Draco was pleased to think Harry prefered him over her. He imagined him here, clambering up the stone ladder in the clumsy way he did things, standing right where he was now. It would've been about the same time of year, the cold misty air freezing up his glasses. Harry would breathe softly, his frozen breath leaving a smooth blanket over everything it touched. The Boy Who Lived was here, it would say. He is beautiful and perfect, the mist would whisper.

So Draco continued to stand, staring out from the large stone window. His fingers were cold and dry in the winter weather, but it didn't bother him too much. Home was a bit of the same thing. He pressed his fingers against the cold, cold stone, savoring it's touch. It made him alert and grounded him to reality, something that he struggled with doing. Or so his dad told him. He needed to focus more, to keep his head in the game, his dad would say. Internally, Draco groaned. Externally, he was the definition of peace. His robes flapped and waved in the wind, framing his figure like a scene from a movie. He stood there, completely absorbed in his thoughts, dreaming about Harry Potter.

The other kid thought he was a freak.

HERMIONE

Hermione had made it through breakfast, after enduring what felt like teasing forever from the Weasley twins. She was still a bit upset with Harry, but it was good to get it out of her system, and she thought she made an improvement from last time. After all, this time he didn't laugh within the first five minutes. He did laugh, though… about twenty-two seconds after. Hermione wanted to be exasperated with him, but her friends were just too cute, two little clueless babies who needed her help. She held her head high as she walked to class.

Hermione was pretty sure she was the only girl so close to the Boy Who Lived. She really just wanted him to trust her. All her life, her parents were always telling her that they knew best, and that they were right. In the end, experience got them a correct answer, even if Hermione had the answer they needed all along. She had learned to keep quiet- after all, who wanted answers from a girl, much less a Muggle-Born in the wizarding world. It was called the wizarding world, after all. Not the magical world, or something like that. She just wanted Harry to let her in. It hurt her feelings a bit, when Harry started keeping bigger secrets from her and Ron. She thought, a crush? That was fine… but sneaking off at night and not taking her seriously? Ugh. This was a recipe for disaster, she just knew it.

What else would you call it? Hermione knew she was doing the right thing, or at least, she thought so, and she was usually right. Even Harry and Ron listened to her for the most part, which made her happy, because they didn't care what gender or blood status she was. Other people did though, and it was difficult to get them to take her opinion seriously. Like the Weasley twins. They were sweet and charismatic and all, loyal and funny, but they always seemed to choose her to poke fun at. Always, "Look at Hermione get mad like this!" or "Watch Hermione study like a nerd!" Hermione was a bit sick of it, but she wouldn't let it ruin her day like that. Witches like her were important, and most of all, uncommon. She wanted to make sure Harry knew that she was there for him, no matter what. Because she wouldn't fail herself like that again.

Hi readers! I read somewhere that although Hermione's boggart was a failed grade, her real fear lies deeper. She was actually afraid that because she got the bad grade, she would be rejected from Hogwarts and fail at her dream. Her real fear is rejection from what she worked hard at. What are you afraid of?