Happy Valentine's Day! Here is the chapter I promised! Still, I have so much to do. Grah! On another note, I wrote several drabble fics ... some angst, romance, and ... (coughsmutcough) but it was all the bunny's fault, I swear. Actually, the as I've called it isn't really graphic. I like to call it hardcore R, but whatever suits you.

________________
Candid Camera
paradoxical
________________

It was a very unusual picture. It made her that much curious about the boy whom she had grown to despise with every fiber of her being. The picture confused her because she could find no trace of emotion that made Draco Malfoy who he was--a Malfoy. She wanted to burn the picture because she found that she was afraid of it. She feared it because it was genuine. She feared it because his smile struck a chord inside of her. Hermione Granger feared it because she knew such feelings--no matter how vague or blurred--should never be considered.

Her eyes glanced at the position of the moon. Looking at it, she knew it wouldn't be long before curfew rolled around. Her gaze switched over to the castle. She had excused herself from dinner before the other students finished to get some time alone. She wanted to think. She wanted to inspect the picture further without being interrogated by Harry or Ron.

Hermione dug into her pockets to fish out the picture she took out early that afternoon. She smiled, softly. Harry grew up to be an exact replica of his father when he was younger. He had gentle features and windswept, coal-black hair which framed a set of bottle-greens that could rival any of the most fragile emeralds. His body, lean and athletic, was hidden underneath his crimson quidditch robes and his hands were enclosed in a set of black, fingerless gloves.

She held up the picture she had, inadvertently, taken of Draco and held the two pictures at the same level. Tilting her head to the side, she observed the two stills with silent interest. Upon inspecting it further, she was surprised at the conclusion she came up with. Harry and Draco, two polar opposites, may wish to do away with each other, may want the other to fall off the edge of the universe, but on the outside they were alike in more ways than one. Do away with bloodlines and forturne, and these two youths were very much the same.

They had the same spark in their eyes and the same charm in their smile. They were lean and strong and had a leader's quality to them. Outside the picture--something she had noticed as well--they shared the same passion for quidditch, and they put a lot of effort into everything they did. It was uncanny the way they shared the same qualities. They were rivals, yes. They had different moralities, yes. But they were human and as she had come to learn, everyone was alike in some form or another.

Before she could slip the photos back into her pockets, a pair of hands slid themselves over her eyes, shielding them from the moonlit scenery. She sighed and bit her bottom lip, looking thoughtful. She smiled, suddenly, knowing there was only one person who smelled curiously like chocolate.

Ron Weasley.

Hermione covered her hands over the culprit's own and gave a soft little hum before removing them. She looked over her shoulder and shot him a cheeky smile.

Ron complimented her with a grin and fingered absently at his tie and loosened it around his neck.

He didn't look too bad, she thought. In fact, with his firegold locks illuminated in moonlight, his lightly freckled skin, and decent muscle, he was good-looking. But, sadly, thoughts like that were for naught--especially if it was associated with a good friend. She broke away from her daze when he spoke.

Not at the library ... He trailed off with a contemplative look, Odd. Just ... odd.

She smacked him, playfully.

Not funny.

He shrugged and looked at the two pictures in her hands. After sliding his gaze over to Padma's picture, he grimaced. After all, he knew who it was in the background and, being a Weasley, smited all things named Malfoy or who looked suspiciously like a ferret--to which Hermione would always argue otherwise, and Ron would ignore her because to him, Draco Malfoy would always resemble a rat.

Hermione held out her hand with the picture of Draco in it.

It isn't that bad, you know.

I know it isn't bad, Ron replied, but his face just ruins the beauty of it.

She wanted to say that Draco was handsome--how could anyone say otherwise?--and suited the picture, beautifully. Of course, knowing Ron, he would probably look at her as if she suddenly grew two more heads and would stop speaking to her for a few days--or weeks, if he felt like it.

She shrugged, I think it looks fine.

Without his face in it. Ron supplied.

Hermione shook her head and tucked the pictures into her pockets.

Ron Weasley, she said, you wouldn't know fine art if it came and bludgeoned you to smithereens.

His brows furrowed for a moment at her choice of words but shrugged it off just the same. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her, expectantly.

I think I'd know fine art if I saw it. He said, huffily.

Hermione arched a slender brow. Fishing her camera from a hidden pocket deep within her robes, she held it out to him. He looked at her with a questioning glint in his eye.

If you're so sure of yourself, take a picture.

He took the device into his hands and made a face at her.

I suppose this is because you don't have faith in my artistic abilities.

She shook her head and replied, I never said that.

Ron shot her a funny look.

Okay, fine, she relented. I'm a bit doubtful. I need proof.

He shook his head. So practical.

Hermione resisted the urge to hit him again and waited.

He looked at his surroundings, his eyes inspecting every inch of ground, every movement--anything worthy of being captured into a paper memory. His blue eyes swept over the lake, noticed the bird readying to take flight. He lifted the camera, ready to snap a picture, but withdrew at the last minute. Picture-worthy as it was--nature in progress--that wasn't exactly what he was looking for.

What he was looking for was something mesmerizing and beautiful. He wanted every aspect of beauty in his picture. He looked at the moon--should he take one?--and shook his head.

Anytime now, Ron. She said before looking away, trying to amuse herself with something other than waiting for her friend to snap a single--and simple--picture.

His blue, piercing gaze settled on the girl in front of him. Would she mind? She would be the lovely foreground, a vision of shy beauty as her face was turned away. He had learned a long time ago that anything that seems to evade you is the most precious, the most beautiful. Looking through the camera, the girl in front of him seemed to be doing just that. Of course, she was only looking away to distract herself, but it was fitting. That, and the scenery behind her was spectacular: the moon reflecting against the calm lake and the bird he saw earlier spreading out its wings.

Click!

Hermione snapped her head towards him.



He nodded.

Okay. Let's see it then.

Ron contemplated her demand for a moment before shaking his head. She gaped.

Sorry, Hermione. An artist should never reveal his work.

Until it's finished. She added.

Ron nodded, knowingly.

That may be the case in the Muggle world, but it definitely does not apply to the Wizarding world.

She sniffed and snatched the device away.

I hate you, Ron Weasley.

What, that's it? No smart retort? Just I hate you, Ron Weasley'? he clicked his tongue and shook his head, Wow. I'm not sure who'll benefit from this more--me or Harry.

It wasn't long before Ron found himself trying to dodge the raging wrath of Hermione Granger and her wand.

________ i, 140204

As you've noticed by now, this is a Ron/Hermione/Draco. Hum ... I really don't know if I want to make it Draco/Hermione anymore. Suggestions or opinions anybody?

I realise that this was incredibly short, but my muse faded before I could take advantage of it. I've no idea when the next update is, but Draco should make his grand entrance in the next chapter.

And despite my lack of interest for Valentine's Day--more like my total abhorrence towards it--I've written several drabbles. Actually, some of them I don't really consider drabbles'. Do keep in mind, however, that not all of them focus on D/Hr. Most of them do. There's also a little snippet of the next chapter of The Broomstick. Located at my Livejournal.