A/N: I'm sorry again for how long it's taken me! It's been such a difficult week, I'm really sorry. I'm also worried in case everyone thinks I'm dragging this out too much - am I dragging it out too much? I know exactly where I want the story to go but I just have so many ideas that I want to get out there that it means that I'm making lots of chapters. Is it too much? Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and you're all staying safe! Lots of Love, CrazyAsACupcake x

Malfoy leans lazily against the wall outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, hands tucked deep into his trouser pockets, his legs crossed at the ankle as he watches the corridor with bored eyes. The ghost of a smirk plays across his face as he thinks of how he tormented Hermione not ten minutes earlier, her embarrassed expression etched into his mind. He rubs his jaw with his hand, the smoothness of his freshly-shaven face pleasant compared to the rough not-quite-stubble he had been feeling all of yesterday. To his left, he hears the unmistakable angry clicking of regulation black shoes with a heel of no more than 2 inches against the stone floor, and smirks to himself.

"Draco Malfoy!" She hisses at him when she's a few feet away, still crunching on the dainty bite of apple in her mouth. Her left hand rests in the crook of her right elbow, her right hand up near her face as if she's unsure as to whether she wants to take another bite or not. His gaze lingers on the apple in her grasp, his smirk growing when he sees the bright green colour of the skin.

"You know, it's horribly rude to talk with your mouth full, Granger," he drawls, in a way he hopes comes off as unbothered with the conversation, yet completely tuned into it at the same time.

She sneers at him, eyes narrowed, as she goes for another bite. She thinks better of it, instead pointing at him with her free hand. "How dare you humiliate me like that – in front of the whole school, no less!" He smiles sweetly at her, before losing it and chuckling lightly. "You think it's funny? You're going to set Harry off! He already suspects you enough and you're not helping your case!" She hisses, finally going for a second bite.

"Come closer," he murmurs, a light smile still lifting the corners of his mouth.

"Excuse me?"

"Just come closer. Just a bit."

Her right arm drops slightly and she rolls her eyes, taking an exaggerated step forward. He laughs, making sure to make his voice rough and alluring. "Come on, Granger. You're not scared of me are you?"

"Scared?" She stares at him with wide eyes before scoffing. "You wish, Malfoy." She takes another step, so she is now a foot away from him. She brings the apple to her lips again, raising her eyebrow at him.

He reaches out, towards her cheek, and she stiffens. What was he doing? In the middle of the corridor is not where she wants him to realise that he is as hopelessly in love with her as she is with him. She feels as though she is about to stop breathing – or maybe she already has, she's not quite sure – but she doesn't care. All she cares about is the feeling of his fingertips brushing against her cheek, cupping her face and pulling her towards him for a kiss (the kind that makes girls turn to their boyfriends in movie theatres and say "Why can't you ever treat me like that?") right there, in the middle of the corridor, where anyone can see them. All she wants is him. She yearns for it, with her whole being, and she waits with bated breath for it to happen.

But it doesn't.

At the last second, he deftly snatches the green apple from her hand, tossing it in the air before catching it and taking a huge bite out of the untouched side. He grins at her, chewing and swallowing the apple that he stole from her. "I can't believe you remembered the green ones were my favourite."

"Malfoy!" She gapes at him in shock and steps back. "That was mine!" She goes for the apple and he holds it above his head, smirking when she jumps to try and take it.

"Come on, Granger, sharing is caring. Besides, you had breakfast, I didn't."

"I saw you sat in the hall, of course you ate breakfast." She lunges for the apple again and he twists his body to dodge her. He takes another bite from the apple.

"Ah, but I spent the entire morning trying to get your attention, except you," he emphasises the word by tapping her on the nose, making her blink. He laughs at her expression before continuing. "You decided to sit on the wrong side of the bench. And by the time you'd turned around, I'd forgotten all about eating. So, forgive me for having two bites of an apple."

"Well that's not my fault that you thought it was better to stare at me than actually eat something." She pauses, crossing her arms and trying to look annoyed. "You missed out on the best bacon, by the way." She adds, unable to stop herself.

"Who needs bacon when you've got a perfect green apple?" He takes another bite, smaller this time, before throwing it to her. She catches it (well, nearly drops it) and narrows her eyes at him. "What? You wanted it, didn't you?"

"You took all the best bits," she mumbles, turning the apple between her fingers.

"Come off it, Granger," he laughs, his gorgeous laugh ringing in her ears as a blush creeps up her cheeks.

She stares at the apple, pursing her lips for a second, finally taking a tiny bite. She holds it out to him. "Here."

He takes the apple, bites into it, then passes it back. For a few minutes, they carry on this routine in silence, until they reach the core of the apple. Hermione hands the core to him with a small smile on her red-tinged face, and he holds it for a moment. His fingers absently seek out the stem and he frowns.

"What's wrong?" She asks, leaning against the wall opposite him, hands behind her back and legs crossed at the ankles. She can see his watch where his robe sleeve has ridden up – they still have another ten minutes before the lesson begins.

"Do you not remove the stem?"

"What?" She looks at his fingers twisting the stem. "No, why should I?"

"I thought you of all people would play a game with the stem – because you seem like the kind to search for little things like that."

"A game?"

He moves so that he's now next to her, leaning against the wall with his right shoulder. His attention is completely on her. "You twist the stem, and every full turn is a letter; some people do numbers too. You ask a question like… Well, the one I always do is 'What is the name of my true love?' so then you twist it and the letter it breaks on is the initial of your true love."

"It seems silly." She looks at him the way an older sibling looks at the younger one.

"It may be silly, but it's a fun little thing." He holds the core out to her. "It's just a stupid game, Granger. It's not going rot your brain."

She rolls her eyes before taking the apple core from him, her fingers brushing his and sending a shock down her spine. She recoils, straightening and holding the apple in front of her. "Fine." She takes hold of the stem, and asks in an annoyed voice: "What is the name of my true love?" She gives him a sideways glance to tell him she wasn't amused, and begins to twist the stem. "A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M…" The stem snaps off in her fingers and she stares at it. Was it really on M? or was it more like N?

"See, it's stupid but it's a cute little game." His voice makes her jump – she'd gotten so lost in her thoughts that she'd forgotten that he was next to her. He plucks the core from her hand, crunching through it until there was nothing left.

"I hate it when you do that," she mumbles, her attention still on the stem in her fingers.

"Do what?" He asks, still chewing through his last bite.

"Now, now, Malfoy: it's rude to talk with your mouth full," she mocks his words from ten minutes earlier, and he reaches out and shoves her gently. She laughs, finally looking at him and seeing he's smiling at her. "When you eat the core is what I meant."

"What's so wrong with that? I'm not wasting anything."

"Apple trees will grow in your stomach if you eat the seeds."

She says it so matter of fact-ly that he snorts, laughing so hard that his head smacks against the stone wall – which only makes him laugh harder, while he rubs the painful spot. In the midst of his laughter, he hears her gasp, sees her surprised, almost worried face, as he hits his head. He sees her go to reach for him, and he sees her hesitation.

"You can't possibly believe that, Granger. Someone as smart as you cannot believe that." He says between laughs. He's still holding the painful spot on his head, and now that he's not laughing as hard the pain shoots through him. He bites his tongue as tears well in his eyes.

"I mean… I don't see how it would be possible, but it's always made me uneasy about it." She sees the tears in his eyes from the pain in his head and finally tells herself:stop being a coward, Hermione! "Come here – lean down." He bends slightly, and she looks at the back of his head. There's a small lump, slightly red and angry.

She runs her fingers through the downy softness of his hair, longing to tangle her fingers in it as she kisses him endlessly; longing to be able to run her fingers through it whenever she wants to; longing to wake up in the morning and feel the tickle of his white-blond hair against her cheek.

Longing for him.

In every possible sense, Hermione longs for him – for his touch, for his voice, for his laughter. For the way he looks at her when he thinks she's not looking. For everything and everything, she longs for a stupid, impossible, improbable life with him.

"Oh my God, Malfoy!" She gasps in surprise, and he jolts. She presses her fingers against the lump and he inhales sharply though his gritted teeth.

"What? What is it?" There is measured panic in his voice.

"You're bleeding!"

"I'm what?" His voice rises an octave or two and he tries to straighten. She keeps one hand pressed on his shoulder to keep him bent down.

"Oh, God, it's turning your hair red – you look like Ron!"

He lifts his hand and pats it against his head, his fingers once again brushing the skin of her hand. "Where? I can't feel anything."

She gasps. "Malfoy, if you can't feel anything it means you've damaged your brain! How are you ever going to be top of the class now!"

He stops feeling around his head and straightens again – this time she lets him. He gives her a Look – a Look that says you're soooo funny, Granger – and she smiles sweetly up at him. "Wow, Granger. You had me there, for a second," he pauses, running his fingers through his hair. "I mean wow. That was evil."

"You've done worse."

"I've never pretended you were injured." He counteracts.

"Boohoo, you big baby."

He pushes her again, and she pushes him back. He smirks at her. "I love it when we make cute nicknames for each other."

"Oh yeah? What's my nickname?"

"Your nickname is Bully, Granger."

She gapes at him in mock shock. "That's rich coming from you."

He leans towards her so his face is inches from hers – nose to nose – and Hermione can't help but wonder what would happen if she leaned forward and closed the distance, nudged his nose with hers and pressed her lips lightly (or harshly) against his. "Everything is rich coming from me, Granger. It's who I am." His voice is smooth yet rough, his smirk playful yet challenging. His grey eyes seem to sparkle a thousand shades as she stares into them. He winks at her and she shoves him gently by the shoulder.

"Ha ha, Malfoy." She rolls her eyes and he laughs, leaning against the wall next to her again, his hands in his pockets. He turns to her and opens his mouth to say something, but stops once he hears voices around the corner. The smile drops from his face, and she wants to reach out and push the corners of his mouth up again, if only to see his dazzling smile just for a second more.

He pushes off the wall and stands opposite her once again, arms crossed as he glares at her, a perfect sneer plastered across his face. She finds it worrying how easily he is able to turn his emotions on and off, how easy it is for him to act like he hates her – or perhaps act like he likes her. She wonders how he learnt how to shut himself off the way he does, and how young he was when he first needed to do it. Unable to bring herself to look horridly upon him, she decides not to look at him at all; instead she stares at a point on the floor where two stones connect, her hands playing with her robes – balling it up in her fists and releasing it, repeating the process over and over – rocking slightly on her heels.

Harry turns the corner with a stony expression, Ron and Lavender following close behind. He spots her instantly with narrowed eyes. "Why did you leave? You left me with Ginny flirting with Dean, and this." He jabs his finger in the direction of Lavender cooing over Ron, obsessively running her hands up and down his arm as she blinks at him.

"I can't deal with your conspiracies, Harry. I've made that clear more than enough times." Hermione shakes her head, exasperated. "I just knew that you were going to go off on one again and I couldn't do it today, I'm sorry," she mumbles. Of course, she isn't really sorry, but the only way to keep Harry happy and not suspecting of anything is to just smooth things out – whether you like it or not.

Harry sighs and runs his hand through his messy hair. "No, 'Mione, I'm the one who's sorry. You're right, I shouldn't be going into it as much as I am. But there's just something…off with him, don't you think?"

"If you think there's something off with me, Potter, maybe you should use some of that Gryffindor bravery and say it to my face." The drawl comes from behind him, and Hermione sees Harry's muscles tense, his jaw clench, his hands curl into fists at his sides. He turns, and though she can't see his face, she can tell by his demeanour that his face is dark.

"Maybe you should stay out of other people's business, Malfoy."

"Harry, stop it. What did you just say?" She grabs his arm to pull him back, and when he stumbles a step towards her, she can see Malfoy's shadowed eyes over his shoulder. She takes a step in front of Harry, scared in case one (or both) of them decides to pull their wand out. "He's just trying to piss you off." She speaks looking directly into Malfoy's eyes, her words directed at both of them. She sees his eyes widen at her unexpected profanity, the tiniest smirk tugging at his lips.

"Remember, Granger. You and me, this lesson, wasn't it?" He wiggles his brows at her, and Hermione feels herself about to scream – how could he act incredible in every way when they're alone, yet act like a complete jerk around everyone else?

"Yes, Malfoy. I'm not an idiot, remember?" She hisses, glaring at him.

He raises one eyebrow. "Did I say that you were?" His voice is soft and smooth, and Hermione feels her skin prickle.

"It was implied."

"I'd never think that of you, Miss Granger," he glances over her shoulder at Harry – she can feel the anger radiating off of him. "I'm not sure we can say that about everyone in the corridor."

Harry starts, pushing past Hermione and getting right up to Malfoy. "If you're suggesting that I think Hermione is-"

"And what exactly is happening here, Mr Potter?" A low voice comes from behind them, and Hermione turns to see Snape stood next to the door to the classroom.

"Nothing, Professor." Harry snaps, not taking his eyes from Malfoy. Malfoy, on the other hand, isn't even looking at him – his head is turned in Hermione's direction, seemingly ignorant as to the other boy that is nearly standing on his toes.

"Then kindly step away from Mr Malfoy before I begin removing house points."

Harry huffs, but thankfully takes a step back.

"Now, into the classroom. We have lots to do." Snape's drawl makes the supposed urgency the words are meant to hold almost unsettling. One by one, they file into the classroom, and Hermione sees the blank, not-really-angry expression on Malfoy's face.

Before she enters the room, she stops, inclining her head towards him slightly and murmuring: "You look prettier when you smile, you know."

Pinkness appears almost instantly on his cheeks, and he follows her into the room. As he passes past the table that she has decided to place her things at, he leans in until his lips almost brush her ear.

"Right back at you, Granger."