Chapter Nine

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From that day onwards, Draco Malfoy never spoke to Hermione Granger ever again.

No longer did they greet each other silently in the hallways as they made their way to their classes; no longer did they acknowledge each other's presence when they inhabited the same room; no longer did they try and meet for their study sessions or for the mere sake of seeing each other again…

Because, as long as both of them knew, their so-called friendship had ended.

It had ended the moment Hermione chose to ignore Draco and instead walked to the side of the ailing Benjamin without so much as a concerned glance over at the Slytherin.

And now, autumn was at an end and winter was soon approaching. Sooner or later the population of Hogwarts gradually forgot the incident after the Quidditch game between Slytherin and Hufflepuff, and those who were personally involved chose to act as if it had never occurred. Draco brushed past Benjamin with cool indifference and so did the Hufflepuff, as if they never knew each other at all and never felt any malice for each other.

Nowadays, Draco remained with his rightful girlfriend Stella or with his Slytherin friends, while Hermione preferred the good company of Harry and Ron, or with her newly established boyfriend Benjamin, who was only too willing to be with her at all times of the day.

No one ever suspected that Hermione and Draco had once been great friends – for Gryffindors were never in good terms with Slytherins and a Pureblood never mingled with a Mudblood. Life returned to normal, the way it was dictated to be; every single day the Slytherin walked with an air of nonchalance and superiority, as if he never cared anything for the sweet company of Hermione Granger. He would be seen laughing with his friends or snuggling close with Stella and Hermione would be seen chatting animatedly with her two friends or holding hands every other day with the perfect Benjamin.

To the world, they cared little for each other.

But inside, Draco was burning.

He had been burning since that awful day in the Hospital Wing. It was a difficult feat not to show what he was truly feeling for more than two weeks now; he wanted to lash out at anyone who dared talk to him and he wanted so desperately to strangle someone just so that he could release his pent up anger.

How could Hermione have affected him like this? He was alright before they had become friends; he was feeling all Slytherin before she had to come into his life and forever change him drastically! Where was the indifference? Where was the malice and evil in him? Where was the pure joy of seeing someone inferior feel wretched while he was having the time of his life?

Malfoys were never exposed to feelings of dejection and misery. But here he was, a Malfoy, feeling just that.

He slumped down onto one of the stone benches at the courtyard and scowled.

He was miserable. He was wretched. He was pained.

And it was all because of Hermione.

He remembered her expression when they were all at the Hospital Wing. She looked… different. She seemed… alien. There was no warmth in her brown eyes when she took to the side of Benjamin and asked how he was. There was false joy when she looked relieved to find that he was alright.

But she never even looked at him.

He felt betrayed.

She didn't ask how he was doing. She didn't make a fuss if he got hurt. While Stella was away for dinner, Hermione stayed by Benjamin's side, talking to him, laughing with him and all that time, she ignored Draco completely. He lay on his lonely bed alone and disregarded and he hated it.

Once or twice he could have sworn that she sneaked a look over at him but he wasn't entirely too sure because as quickly as it had come it left. As soon as his gray eyes swept over to where she was, Hermione was too busy with her boyfriend.

Draco's lip curled. What had changed in her? Why she changed her disposition towards him, he didn't know and he didn't like it. Where was the girl he so wanted to spend time with? Where was the witty Gryffindor who enjoyed giving him useless facts he was sure he would forget in no time? Where was his friend who laughed at his jokes and stole away from her friends just to see him and talk to him? Where was the Hermione who gave him gentle looks and kind smiles that were forever engraved into his memory?

He missed her. He terribly missed her.

For the past weeks, he watched in resentment when Benjamin took this most precious girl into his arms to kiss her and whisper sweet nothings in her ears. Draco watched as the Hufflepuff held her hand, tucked a loose tendril of curls behind her ear and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders.

He felt jealous.

He was angry at her. Hermione chose Benjamin over him, Draco. Was that sissy boy more important in her life than he was? Then again, he thought spitefully, Benjamin was her boyfriend. Draco, on the other hand, was merely a friend. A friend whom she kept secret. Who, then, would weigh more in her life?

Definitely the lover, he declared contemptuously.

Draco kicked the dirt beneath his expensive shoes and cursed under his breath. Why was he even bothered in the first place? He had a perfectly nice girlfriend – Stella. Wasn't she beautiful, breathtaking and every bit as clever as the renowned Gryffindor Know-it-All? He scolded himself for forgetting that she existed for the past few weeks. Merlin, he hadn't even given her any thought for so long! He had been too enraptured wallowing in murky thoughts of Hermione and Benjamin.

Draco fingered the necklace she had given him months back. For Merlin's sake, he didn't realize how lucky he was to have such a perfect girlfriend… Yet he was still deeply bothered by Hermione and Benjamin.

He asked himself why he was in such a state. Why in the world was he enraged whenever he saw the lovely couple strolling about the castle grounds in bliss? Why did he want to curse the Hufflepuff into oblivion so that he may never have to bother Hermione anymore? Why was he so furious whenever Benjamin was there, ready to whisk his girlfriend away?

Easy, replied a nasty little voice in the corners of his mind, you want her for yourself.

Draco told the little voice to shut up.

It didn't. Instead it continued. You want her to do all those things she does with that pretty boy. You want her to hold your hand. You want to wrap your arms around her. You want to touch her face. You want to whisper those words into her ear. You want to snog her –

"Shut up!" He barked. Merlin, that stupid voice had infuriated him. He was now standing, breathing heavily, furious and frustrated. A few people looked over to his direction and he scowled, ignoring them and sauntering moodily back to the castle.

That voice was wrong. He didn't want her. He didn't want her at all. He didn't want to hold her hand. He didn't want to caress her cheek gently. He didn't want her to look at him affectionately with those beautiful brown eyes of hers. He didn't want to hug her. He didn't want to snog her. He didn't want to whisper sweet nothings into her ear. He didn't want to do all those things at all!

Ah, the voice slyly said. Then what do you want?

As he turned round the corner, Draco leaned against the stone wall and sank down to the floor. His silver eyes glistened and he scowled, because he realized he wanted just all those things the voice had said.

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Stella sank down into one of the blue armchairs by the fire, dropping her schoolbag on the carpeted floor. She loosened her tie, sat back and sighed tiredly. She was drained. Immensely.

The past few weeks were horrible. Her plan had, unfortunately, been unsuccessful. It blew up in pieces the moment the two boys involved resulted into a fist fight and had made matters worse when Hermione came along and completely ignored the very existence of Draco in the Hospital Wing.

"So much for being matchmaker," she muttered ruefully, twirling a strand of her blonde hair.

It would have succeeded flawlessly if Draco or Benjamin didn't lose their heads off. All that was needed, after all, was a little push from her, the Matchmaker. They were almost there; Draco was this close to finally realizing the 'truth' and Hermione was downright annoyed by the attention of Benjamin and was still (of course) very much in love with the Slytherin.

But things began to go downfall when Stella realized that Hermione was determinedly avoiding Draco. What was wrong, she wondered, but she could come to any conclusion.

Maybe Stella was wrong in telling Benjamin that Draco was… taken with Hermione. She flushed and waved it off. It wasn't a foolproof plan anyway – after all, she was only seventeen and human.

To err is human, but whatever.

As she stared into the flickering flames in the hearth, her mind swirled. What would she do now?

She quickly allowed the Ravenclaw in her to work. She was clever, she was smart… Surely this was only a measly problem with an easy solution; if she didn't know any better, she'd swear that the solution was already staring right at her but she didn't just know what it was yet.

Some minutes later, she snapped her fingers, her eyes gleaming. "The necklace!"

Of course! How could she have forgotten about it? Wasn't it supposed to help one realize who his true love was? With a startling new wave of adrenaline, Stella grinned triumphantly, jumped onto her feet and immediately exited the Ravenclaw Common Room.

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"Ouch – watch where you're going, you –" Draco brushed off the dirt from his black robes, annoyed that someone had the nerve to bump into him when he was in such a horribly angry mood. His gray eyes softened, however, when he realized who it was. "Oh. It's… you."

This was the first time in many weeks that they were standing before each other alone; Hermione gasped as she realized who she had bumped into.

She was astoundingly pretty as she looked up at him in surprise, her cheeks marred red and her beautiful amber eyes wide with astonishment. As if on cue, his heart beat a little more quickly than before. Damn hateful feelings, he cursed. He had absolutely no time to feel like this. He was angry at her. They weren't even on speaking terms at the moment.

"Malfoy," she said quietly, a tendril of her curls coming loosely. She ignored it, choosing instead to wring her fingers together and look resolutely down at her feet. Draco watched the tendril sweep slightly over her face as a silent breeze passed by them, entranced to even say anything to her.

Just like that, he reached out to her face, traced her cheek gently and silently tucked away the loose tendril behind her ear. She gasped softly, her cheeks relatively getting redder as she stared at his gray eyes. He stepped back and shook his head. He wasn't supposed to do that.

They stood still for what seemed like hours, gazing at each other – gray eyes bore into brown eyes – and it didn't help that Draco longed to touch her face once more. He itched to get closer to her and for one brief moment he felt his feet step forward, so much nearer than he was to her before…

But the moment was lost when Benjamin bounded down the steps from the Entrance Hall, and Draco quickly stepped back. Curling his lip spitefully, he watched as the new arrival smirked and wrapped an arm around Hermione.

"Malfoy," Benjamin greeted coolly.

Draco nodded silently. Without words he took one last glance at the Hermione and disappeared, his robes billowing behind him as he strolled away nonchalantly.

What the bloody hell was he thinking, touching her face like that?

Why the hell was he feeling like this?

It was horrible – it was excruciating. A twinge of pain seared through him when he watched Benjamin snake an arm around her. He cringed and he ached to hurt something right now. He raked through his blonde hair, visibly confused and angry, not knowing what he should be feeling, saying or doing.

What was he to do now?

He felt awful – how could he be doing this to Stella?

"Draco?"

He glanced over his shoulder and saw, indeed, his girlfriend Stella. He frowned, guilty that he had neglected her too much and that he had entertained thoughts of another. Stella walked over to him and smiled. Taking his hand in hers, she said, "Come on, I have something to tell you."

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"What were you doing with Malfoy, Hermione?" Benjamin cried, leaning on the ledge of a third floor balcony. He crossed his arms and stared angrily at her. "Didn't I tell you not to talk to him anymore?"

Hermione glared at him and sat down on one of the stone benches. "For your information, I didn't talk to him, Benjamin," she replied. "I haven't talked to him since your fight."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah – right."

Hermione pursed her lips and curled her fists into balls. She didn't believe him, did he? Fine then. "Think what you want, Benjamin," she gritted between her teeth, "But I can guarantee you that I'm telling the truth."

"And he was standing awfully close to you – the nerve of that bastard –"

Her cheeks reddened and she turned away, gazing pointedly instead at the gray sky, which to her dismay, reminded her awfully of Draco's eyes and the way he looked at her earlier. Her cheeks tingled where his fingers touched her, recalling how he reached out and tucked the loose strand of curls behind her ear without so much as a warning or any words at all.

Why in the world did he even do that?

"You didn't snog him by chance, did you, love?" Benjamin asked, thus breaking her train of thought. He kneeled in front of her, his blue eyes anxious with concern. "You didn't do anything, did you –"

"Of course not, Benjamin," Hermione answered, patting him lightly on the head like some pet. She laughed. "Why in the world would you think that?"

"Because I know you fancy him." He grumbled and took a seat beside her. "And he fancies you."

Hermione frowned and turned away. What he said was a lie; of course Draco didn't fancy her. They weren't even talking right now! "That's stupid, Benjamin," she murmured, "That's really stupid." He wrapped an arm around her and stroke her arm with his fingers. "He doesn't fancy me…" She felt her spirits droop. "And I don't fancy him…"

No, she thought firmly, I don't fancy him anymore.

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There they sat beneath the weeping willow, Draco resting his arms over his knees, staring straight into the lake and Stella sitting cross-legged, her hair flowing gently as a breeze passed over them.

"I think we should break up, Draco," she uttered, smiling as she gazed into the distance. From the corner of her eye she saw him blink in surprise and stare at her.

"Why?"

"Could you say that you love me?"

There was a pause and Stella took a chance to look at him. "That's what I thought."

"But I do love you, Stella –"

She laughed. "I've seen the way you look at her, Draco."

His gray eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

She faced him fully, taking his hands into hers and smiling kindly. "It took you a long time to realize it, didn't it?" she said. "You were never in love with me, dear."

He blinked, scowling. "Of course I have – I am –"

"Either way I'm not the one you love now, Draco Malfoy."

He wrenched his hands away and said, "How would you even know that? Of course I love you – of course –"

But Stella waved him off with her hand and pointed at his necklace – the one that she had given him for his birthday. "Have you ever opened that locket?"

He shook his head.

She sighed. "I never told you, did I?" she looked into his eyes. "That necklace is supposed to tell you who you're 'true love' is – yes, I know it sounds a whole lot like a girlish fantasy – but it's true. You'd be surprised to know who your love is when you open that, Draco."

He snorted. "It's stupid." He took off the necklace and clasped it in his palm.

"Please do believe me when I say that you really should tell Hermione Granger you love her."

"I – WHAT?"

Stella laughed at his expression. His cheeks were burning red, his eyes wide with shock. "See."

"Let me tell you – I am not in love with her – I never was – I –"

"Oh?" Stella smirked and wrenched the necklace away from him. "Let's see."

Draco watched her with his eyes wide with astonishment and awe. Of course he didn't love Hermione Granger – the very idea was ridiculous. But as he watched the Ravenclaw figuring out how to open the locket, his heart beat like crazy. What if…? He didn't want to know – but he wanted to know.

"Aha!" Stella finally opened the locket and she skimmed her eyes over the insides of the jewelry. Her eyes gleamed with excitement and she grinned happily. "I knew it."

She held up the opened locket right in front of Draco's eyes. "See."

He read the inscriptions and his eyes widened, his heart raced and his breath got caught in his throat.

It can't be.

Right inside the locket was Hermione Granger's name beautifully entwined with his.

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Author's Note: First and foremost, thank you to all those who reviewed the previous chapter. I would just like all of you to know that I really do appreciate the fact that you have taken the time to read this; this, by far, is my least favorite fanfic which I've written. I was this close to abandoning this story and putting it down because I didn't feel like finishing it anymore. –lol- I think it's because I made the characters too OOC and I'm really not fond of original characters, those which I have created from my imagination. I started this story as a one-shot but I decided to continue it since Except Her was already finished… hehe. I wrote this when I was fourteen and I reread the whole story when I was fifteen and I thought it sucked – I'm prouder of my other stories –lol- but here I am finishing this story because I owe it to those who liked it.

I would just like to say that this is the second to the last chapter of 'Of Pictures and Moments'.

I will be thanking each and every one of those who reviewed in the next chapter:)

Up next: Confrontation! Draco finally tells Hermione!

Please check my other stories too – most are one-shots but I have two multi-chaptered stories, 'Except Her' (finished) and 'The Deal' (work in progress).

Hope to see you next time!