Herrooooo. So, I've scheduled my classes next semester to exclude any heavy literature-reading classes because I want to read my own damn books. And write fanfiction. I've decided that my dream (oh my god, I have one, I feel like SUCH a girl) is so write novels and become Nora Roberts-Famous. NOT JK Rowling or Stephanie Meyer famous. God, that's scary. Though if people love what I write THAT much, there could be no way that I would feel unhappy about it.

I'm in the middle of writing chapter 11 right now, which i had some trouble with. That's why this is up so late, by the way. But I think I have chapter 11 almost finished, so it should be up within the next couple weeks. Thank you soooo much if you're reading this and don't hate it. You make me more happy than you will ever realize. Remember to review if you have questions or critiques! I want to improve my writing as much as I can, but I need feedback to do it! Thank youuuus.

Shout out to my boyfrannnn cuz he's purtyyyy :]

This was very uncomfortable. By now, Hermione had fallen asleep in her bed, but Draco lay tossing and turning in his. He stared up at the ceiling now, wide awake, and quite sexually frustrated. Even more so, he was emotionally frustrated. He was angry with himself for being brought down to that level by Hermione. That's what you get, he thought, letting himself fall into gloom, for letting your guard down. That's what you get for letting yourself-

He stopped thinking quickly. He almost allowed himself to say that he… no, he couldn't. Draco Malfoy would not admit to the "liking" of Hermione Granger. No matter how much she had attempted to change him, an attraction toward an enemy was simply absurd. He refused. He did not like her.

Still, kissing her was nice. She had very soft lips. He glared. Every girl has soft lips he thought angrily, still attempting to keep his stomach from jumping every time he thought about it. He thought of Nanette, which calmed him. She had had soft lips, too; the softest. Overcome by a sudden wave on sadness, Draco reached over to his nightstand and pulled the drawer open. Under all the junk, from the very bottom, he pulled out a small red box. He opened it, pulled out a small gold ring. Fighting back tears, he slipped it only his little finger and drifted off to sleep.

This was indeed very uncomfortable. Hermione, though Draco seemed not to notice, also lay awake. Though she had made it seem as though she was quiet and still, breathing deeply, as one does when they're unconscious, she was actually thinking very hard about how to make sure than Draco would never be on her mind again. So far, all she could think of was stabbing him in the forehead. That simply wouldn't do.

She, being the analytical type, kept coming back to the same question: What was that shock they felt? He had touched her before, was it a punishment set on by the spell? Were they drawn to each other because of the spell, and then pushed away from one another? That certainly would be a form of dark magic, torturing couples like that.

She wasn't sure what to make of it, though. Meaning she wasn't sure whether she was disappointed or glad that they were stopped. She was very much afraid of how they were progressing; she had kissed a boy or two in her time, of course- but she had never felt so charged and she had never wanted someone so close to her so badly. She was glad she was given an excuse to stop; though, she admitted to herself, she would have settled for simply slowing down.

Hermione was a mature enough person to admit when something she had known almost half of her life was wrong. Draco Malfoy is a pretty boy, she thought. There: I said it. But it didn't stop her from remembering all the times that he was an evil ferret, and those times didn't appear to end. Conflicted and sleepy, Hermione settled on repeating the phrase Draco Malfoy is a pretty ferret to herself until she drifted to sleep.

The rest of the weekend, despite Draco and Hermione's hopes that it would be relaxing, proved to be quite stressful. Both students attempted to avoid each other all weekend, but seeing as how they were forced to maintain close contact with one another at all time, it was a tad difficult. Often, they almost ran into each other as they tried to keep their heads down, avoiding eye contact. And each time this happened, their hearts raced and their breath caught in their throats as they anticipated another painful shock of electricity.

No shocks came that weekend, however, and Monday rolled around once again. Hermione and Draco found themselves in Potions that morning, Gryffindors on one side of the room and Slytherins on the other. Harry had quickly stolen the seat next to Hermione on the Gryffindor side, shooting a glare at Draco. Draco, obviously taking this as a challenge, moved from his original spot by corner to the seat on the Slytherin side of her. Hermione blushed when he took his seat. Draco, not breaking eye contact with Harry, gave her an exaggeratedly excited "Hi, Hermione!" and Harry fumed.

The two sitting next to each other didn't stop them from feeling increasingly awkward towards one another. Each time Hermione moved to grab something from her bag, Draco tensed his entire body. He gradually scooted his chair a little away from her, though they kept making eye contact for fleeting moments.

For the first time ever, Hermione's heart leapt for joy when Snape called everyone to form groups of three to begin their cauldron work. Hermione jumped up and practically squealed, "Harry! Ron! Let's go!" She didn't look back as they headed towards one side of the room; though (for the sake of the curse of course) she made sure she faced Draco's side of the room.

"Are you alright today Hermione?" Harry asked, looking concerned. She sure looked great today. Her cheeks were flushed bright pink and her eyes twinkled.

"Yes, Harry, of course I'm alright," she said, smiling, "though I would like to say something to you two."

Harry and Ron looked up from their textbooks and waited for Hermione to speak.

"I'm really sorry I haven't been spending very much time with you two. I wish I could, but with having to be constantly around Draco, I don't see how we can be together." Harry spent probably too much energy thinking about the way she said we can be together. "I just know that if you were around him as much as I am right now, you'd absolutely kill him. And until we know what kind of affect that will have on me, I'm afraid I can't let that happen."

Ron was the first to speak. "Yeah, sure, we get it. No hard feelings 'Mione. I mean, I'd like to hang out with you and all, but if it's going to give you seizures, I don't like you that much." His humor comforted Hermione. Harry, feeling as though he had no humor in him at all, simply nodded and stammered.

"Oh, yeah, sure, why not, we get it, no problem, have fun, if you can, know what I mean?"

Hermione looked at Harry strangely, they smiled. It was a beautiful smile. "Thanks so much you guys, you really mean a lot to me. I'm going to get the ingredients we don't have, I'll be right back."

As Hermione walked away, Ron leaned in towards Harry. " 'Have fun, if you can, know what I mean?' What is wrong with you, man?"

"I know, I know," Harry pleaded, "She just looks really pretty today! I mean her eyes-"

"Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa," Ron interrupted, putting his hands up like ear muffs. "She's practically my sister; you want to date her, fine. But I don't want to hear about it."

Over by the ingredient's cabinet, Hermione cheerfully plucked jars and bottles off the wall, measuring carefully and perfectly (as Hermione tends to do). It wasn't until she heard a soft clearing of the throat behind her that her mood faltered.

Draco squeezed his way in next to her, leaning far over her to grab bottles way out of reach. They weighed in silence, avoiding talking, until Hermione was done at the cabinet.

"Y-you didn't have to do that you know," Hermione said quietly, mustering up the courage to break their long awkward avoidance of one another. When Draco looked at her curiously, she gained confidence and looked at him sternly. "You didn't have to be rude to Harry and fight over me like children. You could pretend that you're better than that."

And she turned and left.