A delicate fall of snow graced the enormous grounds of the castle. The air was filled with the hum of soft whispers and the sound of affectionate laughs exchanged between happy couples. None of their affections could attempt to compete with the burning of his unrequited love. Indeed he loved her. The people still exchanged their saccharine embraces and laughed in their gaieties.

The boy ignored it, as the snowflakes fell on his equally white hair. Love to him was never anything he had talked about, but rather a deep cave of hurt he acknowledged only within the dark recesses of his mind. He loved a girl now, and she never knew. It was love that was beautiful and aweing in the power, sometimes dark, it could hold over him.

He had loved before, before it was someone who had that same intellect and haunting beauty.

The innocence of the snow laid in the folds of her arms, the untamed beauty of the surrounding mountains lay in the curls of her dark hair. Her untold beauty was a rose in its most instensely beautiful state, also when the thorns were sharpest. He succumbed to its will, worshipping it as the wind worships the sea, waves graceful and awesome sprung from their union. Directing a wandering gaze to the side, her specked eyes burned in sadness and glowed in the rays of passionate sun. Her voice rang in like the awakening of bells. Clasping the hand of her beauty was the majesty of her intellect, how many times had he worshipped it, wanted it?

She walked by now, her long neck ever purer than the snow. Her lips were red like ripe plums. She glided in the snow, alone and in the embrace of her royal traits. She had them like he, yet he loved her in the passionate application of them.

In the tresses of her hair were his clips. They were irises of the deep tanzanite he had bought. She flew in the grounds never knowing who had sent him. She looked at him, her gaze strong and loving. He turned around in silent defeat, afraid of his burning passionate flame of love. He saw another, black hair and emerald eyes defining his face. Draco knew it was him she had looked at. It had always been him. They came together as he watched transfixed by the beauty of her figure. He observed as her drunken red lips met the blue of his. He watched as she met them with the only passion he had ever seen that could match his own for her. He imagined it was him instead she was embracing. Ghosts of soft hands wrapped around his waist, as shadows of soft lips came to his and drank in his want and and the wine of his passion. The dark outline of imaginary hands then hugged her closer, wanting to touch more of her flesh. He imagined how he would moan her name as her hands came under his shirt to feel the warmth of his trunk. He turned again to see the couple and he saw her hands trail up the other boy's shirt. He watched as they went away to the castle. He knew what they would do next was too intense to be seen out in the snow, he imagined what the boy would feel, the incredible pleasure. That was pleasure he had denied himself, pleasure he knew he would allow himself to receive had she ever asked him. He would have forgotten his chastity to feel her skin bare against his. He remained in the snow, but now in the garden where the roses still managed to bloom. They were meant for the summer, but they endured. He could not have endured telling her he loved her, he'd be afraid she didn't love him. He could be hurt deeper, than the hurt most people already couldn't begin to comprehend. How much worse could a pain from someone he loved more be?
He stayed there in the fresh blanket of snow that lay around him then as the time passed and came like the snow that was still falling. Now it was night, a time he had become so much more familiar with, a time he truly knew. Tiny faeries glowed fulgent in their lights. They were beautiful, and enchanting to a broken heart. To night his thoughts drifted, wanting so much in it's darkness. He wished then.

He closed his beautiful eyes and imagined her hands brushing his neck, hands wrapped around him, her lips telling she loved him. He imagined her mouth now upon his proving her love in passionate kissing. He imagined her mouth now off of his and kissing his jaw. He imagined taking in her warmth and absorbing it. His mouth moved words coming out as she held him in his imagination, "I love you, Hermione,"

He imagined he hand now going into his pants, wanting to know him. He imagined her smiling into him, knowing what they were doing was as private as it was in the uncensored night.

"I love you, I love you."

He imagined her unclasping his cloak, and her voice sweet, saying, "I want to love you too." For a while he had imagined and when he opened his eyes he was bare chested and she was kissing his jaw and he was holding her as he had always wanted. Her hands were lovingly on his breast and her mouth apart from his saying "I don't know if I love you Draco, I'm not sure."

He grinned and caught her mouth in his and kissed her. "I guess I'll have to make you love me." He carried her into the castle and into his bedroom where he loved her physically and emotionally. He loved her and he made it so she had no choice but to love him back.