A little pre-note from me: thanks to my 2 reviewers! And I know them both! I was all upset – I'm only uploading this because Louise and Yotama have been very nice!! Louise wants a mention now – everyone say "hi Louise – thanks for keeping little old mystical sane!!" well, sane-ish. Is the phrase "Little old" not a bit self-contradictory? Yeah anyway, next chapter isn't coming up until I get at least 5 reviews! Pretty please? Ok, anyway – on with the story!! Hope y'all like it! (I'm from N. Ireland – why am I saying y'all?! Because it's late-ish and it's Friday and I'm hyper!! Ok I'll shut up now! Please r/r and feel free to ask me any questions via review or email if you really can't wait that long! On we go…

What If

Hermione was taken aback, even a little scared. She thought Draco was had been planning some trick, not in love with her.

"Fucking hell!" she screamed, standing up. And it was her who screamed, not Goyle. The potion was wearing off for some reason. She had to get upstairs. Draco looked just as surprised as she felt.

"Hermione?" he whispered.

"No." she lied, putting on a deeper voice.

"Holy crap." Draco said, putting his hand to his now sweating forehead.

Hermione ran out of the common room and up the stairs to Myrtle's bathroom.  She realised she was crying, something she wasn't exactly prone to.  As she went into the bathroom, she looked at the mirror. She still had Goyle's face, surrounded by her own brown ringlets. Not a good look. But right now she wasn't that bothered. Malfoy loved her. She shuddered. It physically made her feel sick. She watched in the mirror as her own features came into picture, the last remnants of Goyle finally leaving her.  She noticed her eyes were bloodshot. Crap, she'd have to sort that out before Harry and Ron saw. She froze.

Harry and Ron. What the hell were they going to say? Or any other Gryffindor, for that matter. She felt like she had betrayed all her Gryffindor roots. But why?

"I haven't done anything wrong." She kept repeating to herself. It was Malfoy who loved her, not the other way round. She hated him. Hated, hated, hated him. She had to remember that. He loved her.

"He loves me." She said calmly. Then the queasiness took over, and she ran to the nearest cubicle.

*~*~*~*~*

            Draco Malfoy started up the stairs out of the dungeon after Hermione. It was strange, hearing her voice coming from Goyle's body.

            "Hermione!" he yelled. She didn't turn round. He looked at the curious faces around him, and heard a Ravenclaw girl mutter "Weirdo" under her breath. He turned around and walked back to the common room. The few people who had been there before looked at him strangely, curious about the 'scene'. He scowled at them and ran to his empty dorm, where he flopped down on his bed.

"I'm in some deep shit." He said.

It wasn't supposed to have happened like that.  If he was going to tell her at all about his feelings, it wasn't while she was Goyle. Why the hell was she Goyle anyway? Unless…

Of course! Draco snapped up into a sitting position. It was so obvious!  Hermione had turned into Goyle because she wanted to talk to him. She liked him! She liked him too! It all made perfect sense!

Draco floated over to his trunk and sorted through his clothes. He chose a new robe he had bought at the beginning of term. As per usual, it was black. But this one was a different material or something, and his mother had commented on how flattering it was. He walked to his mirror and held the garment against him, smiling smugly. He would go to the Gryffindor tower tonight to see her. And damn, was he going to dazzle her.

*~*~*~*~*

Hermione sat in the common room, fiddling with her thumbs.  It had been an hour since her encounter with Draco and she still wasn't over it.  The guy loved her for crying out loud. And her? Hell, she didn't know what she felt. She wanted to hate him, she really did. But no one had ever said they loved her before and it felt good. She couldn't hate him. She didn't love him, but hate seemed such a strong word.

Just then a young figure with fiery hair flopped down beside her.

"What-cha doing?" the figure sang. Hermione immediately recognised the voice to be Ginny Weasley.

 "Ginny." Hermione stated. It was supposed to sound like a question, but it didn't come out that way.

"Yes-sum?" she asked, obviously in a cheery mood.

Hermione looked around her to make sure Ron and Harry weren't there.

"What if…" she started. "What if you really thought you hated someone, then that someone said they, um, had feelings for you and then you thought that you might have feelings for that person too. Except you don't want to have feelings for that person because you really just want to hate them and it would be so much easier if you could hate them but you find it's getting harder and harder to do that. And what if you would really like to talk to your best friends about your feelings for that someone but they really hated that someone and you weren't sure how they'd react and you have no idea what you feel for this someone?"

Ginny looked confused. Hermione felt confused.

"Well?" Hermione encouraged.

"Well…" Ginny said dreamily, lacing her fingers around her crossed knee and leaning back into the sofa. "I think I'd follow my heart and be with the someone who loves you and explain to your friends and they will be happy for you. Then the two someone's could be really happy together and in love and live happily ever after."

Hermione groaned. "Wrong answer, Ginny!" she had been hoping Ginny could have talked her out of any feelings she might be harbouring for Draco.

Ginny simply laughed. "Aw well. What does it matter anyway? It's not as if these 'someone's' exist!"

"Yeah." Hermione smiled softly and Ginny left, cursing about some forgotten homework.

"Um, Hermione?" a timid voice interrupted her thoughts and she looked round to see a small, round faced boy looking at her.

"Neville, hi! How can I help?" she asked cheerily, thankful for a nice distraction.

"Um someone wants to talk to you outside." He said in a quiet voice.

"Oh?" she asked. "Who?"

Neville didn't reply. Instead he just pulled the portrait door back further, to reveal a waiting Draco Malfoy.