Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Author's Note: Half Term, here I come…only 72 hours and I will be in King's Cross, pushing a trolley with my trunk on it and searching for a taxi to take me to Paddington. Life is wonderful.  And what is even better….the 72 hours include only 6 more periods of teaching.

So if you meet me on Sunday in KingsCross I'll be wearing a wonderful black and silver school scarf with the Giggleswick School coat of arms on it and I'll be looking dreadfully exhausted after hours and hours in a train going South to London…

All right, all right…you're not interested in that…fine…on with the story then…and this chapter is the longest so far…and there will be another one up shortly…a Valentine's Day chapter…

Oh, and thanks for the reviews.

***

Tomorrow will be Valentine's Day. I got something nice for Ron…he probably won't even have a card or anything to give to me…that is, if he remembers that there is Valentine's Day…I don't really care.

The librarian has decorated the library and the topic is "Library of Love"  so I find myself sitting amongst tiny little cupids fluttering around and whispering little cheesy nonsense in your ears and there is even heart shaped, pink and red  glitter falling down from the ceiling and vanishing once they hit the ground. It's nice and romantic, I suppose. Ron refused to set a foot inside as soon as he saw what was going on.  Romance and Valentine's Day is just no made for him, I guess.

I constantly imagine that I get a rose or a letter from HIM. That he looks at me and that his eyes smile at me…I'm pathetic, but I can't get him out of my head. I find myself dreaming and imaging that Draco has something to me…wouldn't it be wonderful if an owl came swooping down tomorrow during breakfast (landing in the butter dish, of course) and delivered a single red rose to me and I would look up and my eyes would lock with Dracos and he would nod, a nod that only I can read and….right, here we go again, I'm lost in my fantasy world again…things like that don't happen. They happen in romances and novels and chic flics…but real life? I doubt it. In real life the ugly duckling doesn't turn into a swan and doesn't get prince charming.

Nevertheless, I had the most wonderful dream tonight. I dreamt I was sitting in Potions and I cannot really remember why, but Draco stood up and declared that the girl he found most attractive was Lavender Brown. And I remember my heart aching for a second…and then he continued and actually said that I, Hermione Granger, was second on this list…and then he went on  and Julia Roberts was fourth and rhubarb rhubarb…as if Draco even knew who Julia Roberts was…

I was in such a good mood, when I woke up that I bounced around in my dorm and even looked into my mirror and thought, well you don't look that bad today…and now that I write it down I suddenly find that it is pretty pathetic. Second best…even in my dreams Draco would never choose me. 

I shouldn't think about Draco all the time…not with Valentine's Day coming up and Ron being my boyfriend. I can't believe why everybody in Gryffindor…well, maybe even in the entire school, believes that we are made for each other. Okay, we appear to be madly in love with each other. We sit together in front of the fireplace and I lean against him and he holds me and kisses me and tells me how much he loves me…I keep asking myself why nobody seems to see through this charade. My charade. I'm constantly waiting for someone to stand up and point at me and yell at me that I'm a cheat and how I dare doing what I do.

I wonder why Ron doesn't realize it. He touches me and I pretend to like it….

Sometimes, he complains that I never seem to touch him…that it's always him initiating it when he wants to be close to me…

He doesn't realize that I actually avoid his hands and his touches…sometimes even his kisses and the more that he touches and loves and tries to give, the more I shy away from his hands and retreat trying to hide in my own little shell. It's probably psychological. I mean, by not reacting to his touches my body tries to tell him NOT to touch me…and he thinks he has to touch me even more to get a reaction. But how could I tell him that? How do you voice these kinds of feelings without hurting him? How can I say what I want without hurting myself?

Everything was fine when I could hate Draco. There was a time when I had only eyes for Ron and nobody else would bother me…but now things have changed. Before I was with Ron there was Viktor…thinking about him still gives me this sweet sour feeling in my stomach and I'd rather not think about him.

And all the time in the back of my mind there has been Draco. That's why his insults hurt so much, I guess. I wouldn't give a damn if anybody else would call me those names…but to hear those words out of the mouth from the one person you desire…

Sometimes I find myself hiding in corridors where I think and know Draco might come along sooner or later. I linger in the Great Hall just to see him, I go past the Quidditch Pitch when I know he'll be out there training and  I go to Hogsmeade with Ron and Harry and Ginny and halfway on our way back to the castle I tell them to go ahead and that I had to go back because I forgot to pick up this book or that…and the truth is that I only want to go back to be alone…to give Draco a chance to talk to me and to catch a glimpse of him.

And then my mind kicks in and tells my heart off for thinking such nonsense, "Yeah, as if Draco would ever bother to talk to me, he'd probably not even think I'm worth the insults he fires at me…"

We (and here I address the entire female population on this planet, Muggle as well as Magical) have probably all our prince charming…the one boy we desire and can't have and will never get. The one person we would die for and that we dream of every single minute during the night even though we have never even as much as brushed their arm. I guess, we cannot help it. That's just the way it is. Or better…the way we are.

Every one likes to secretly think that one day HE will come and sweep them of their feet, seeing beyond our faults and flaws. Everybody says that it's the inside that counts, but who ever has said that surely didn't have problems with their outside. Let's face it…we pretend that we don't care for what others consider to be beautiful…as if it doesn't matter whether you're wearing size 6 or 12 and who cares whether you weigh 5 stone or 13? As long as you're a nice and happy person that is all that matters. As if.