Disclaimer: I certainly do not own Harry Potter.

Author's Notes: This is my first attempt at fanfic since 2000 or 2001. I've fussed over this idea for over a year and this chapter took a whole month (and some) to get ready. I'm quite sure this idea has been shot to hell and back, but I don't read that much fic, so in my mind, it's "fresh".Anyway, constructive criticism is welcome. Flames.. well, they're just stupid. If you don't have anything nice to say, don't bother.

Chapter One: There's something about the way you looked at me…

Oh, why can't I ignore it?
I keep giving in but I should know better
'Cause there was something 'bout the way you looked at me
And it's strange that things change
But not me wanting you so desperately...
--Desperately, Michelle Branch.

Hermione Granger stared into the grey eyes of Draco Malfoy and smiled. Yes, she smiled. And to her surprise, he smiled right back. It wasn't a 'happy to see you' kind of smile. If there was such thing as a smile devoid of any feeling, he was doing it. And yet, that didn't surprise her. Hermione didn't blame him for being cautious. What was happening in the Prefects washroom was wrong. It was not at all indecent, but somewhat treasonous. They were enemies in a war that started at the end of their 5th Year. As hard as the Headmaster tried to impose otherwise, school unity meant nothing now. The students were divided. The only thing that could possibly bring them together again was an end to this war.

But, for some reason, none of that mattered as the young students watched each other from opposite sides of the room. Truth be told, the fact that they were even in the same room together was pretty much Hermione's fault. It was all an accident, a ploy to catch Harry's eye gone awry. She was only supposed to pretend to like Draco Malfoy. It wasn't supposed to actually happen. Watching him turned into learning him, and before long, she felt like she knew him. She couldn't get him out of her mind and she didn't understand why. And as clichéd as it might seem, one morning she woke up and realized, "I like Draco Malfoy." Yet, the years they spent loathing each other were not forgotten. No, she could never forget that. But seeing Draco in this new light helped her swallow the pill; she was able to temporarily push it from her mind because that's how much she liked Draco Malfoy.

And Draco, well, in his defence, he just couldn't help it. He already knew everything there was to know about Head Girl. He had been watching her for years. In fact, he'd been watching her since the moment he had laid eyes on her. His father had once told him that it was useful to know your enemy. Hermione was a Muggleborn, a Gryffindor and Harry Potter's best friend; she was his rival. He knew what pleased her, what bothered her and what she disliked and unfortunately, he fell into the last two categories. Which is why this sudden attention from her – it was safe to assume that it was the good kind – had intrigued him. And because of this, he had just watched a little more than he usually would. Through that, other than the obvious, he found that she was tolerable… and cute. Totally unlike the Mudblood stereotype.

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Hermione tore her gaze away from Draco. She glanced at the portrait of the mermaid and was glad to see that it was empty. This was one encounter she didn't want witnessed. It might not go as well as she hoped. When she turned her attention back to the Slytherin Prefect, she saw that he had slightly closed the gap between them. Only slightly, though. He wasn't close enough to trap her in place but he was far enough to try and stop her from leaving if she decided to.

Now what? All they've done since they arrived was stare at each other. Hermione felt really stupid at that moment. Any social skill she had learned had abandoned her and she felt as though she could not rise up to this challenge. "Oh fuck, what have I gotten myself into?" she thought to herself. "What should I do next? I should leave. This is crazy! Yes, I should—"

"Why did you bring me here, Granger?" Draco drawled lazily, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. He hoped he looked nonchalant.

Hermione's jaw dropped. They needed an icebreaker… Draco delivered. "What are you talking about?" she said as calmly as she could, which was just short of yelling. "You followed me here. I didn't ask for your supervision while I take a piss."

She winced at the hardness in her voice. She didn't mean for it to come out like that. The cautious atmosphere was immediately replaced by an undeniable tension. Old habits die hard.

"Way to take a step backwards, you nut!" she thought bitterly. It wasn't supposed to be like this – tension so thick that it felt like it was choking her. She imagined things going differently… some professing of their undying love for each other and perhaps if they were up for it, a snogging session like no other.

Draco's lip tightened. She had a point. Well, crap. Draco knew that she was unknowingly baiting him, but he would not let it get to him. Things were different now.

"Quick! Say something cool!" he thought sheepishly. He wanted to say that he was there to make sure the Head Girl didn't fall into the toilet and drown herself but he stopped himself. That would have been very stupid and tactless. For probably the millionth time in his life, words had escaped him. He wasn't sure if he could say anything that wouldn't provoke her. So he remained silent.

She waited with jaw clenched for him to tell her she was nothing but a filthy Mudblood and that she should never insinuate that he'd follow the likes of her, but it didn't come. His lack of response told her that something had changed. Maybe he had grown up. Was that being too hopeful? Maybe he had seen the error of his ways. Hermione resisted the urge to snort at that thought. Maybe he decided that it wasn't worth his time arguing with her, or even talking to her. But if it wasn't worth his time, why was he there with her? Hermione sighed resignedly. Something's got to give. And it seemed as though neither of them were willing to put anything on the line.

If either Harry or Ron ever found out about this, they would skin her alive… after they disposed of Draco's body. Hermione decided that she should leave before she did something she'd regret. Sadness filled her heart as she walked towards the exit. Was it to end like this? Would she ever find out if they could have been? Hermione's gut clenched. Call her selfish, but even though there was a possibility that she was indeed crazy, she wanted something out of this.

Draco held his breath. She was leaving. That was it. He wanted to tell her to stay, but for what? So they could stare at each other some more? Sadness replaced his wariness and his ego deflated, though only a little bit. As the saying goes, there are other fish in—

Hmm… if Hermione was leaving, she was definitely headed in the wrong path. He would have thought that being the smart person she was, she'd choose the path he wasn't blocking. Draco wondered. Then he let his mind wander at the possibilities of it all.

As she approached Draco, it looked as though she was going to hug him. Or kiss him. But, she did neither. She walked right up to him and (there was no mistaking it) sniffed. Hard. She mumbled an apology and made a quick escape.

Draco was stunned. Did she just smell him? He chuckled. That was almost kinky. And though he wished it weren't so, he was turned on. He looked around the empty washroom. Since he was already there…

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Meanwhile, Hermione was on her way back to the Head Girl and Boy bedchambers. She was walking really fast (there was no running in the hallways!) and she didn't dare stop or look back. Her heart was thumping in her chest and her knees felt weak. As she entered the chambers, she gave Blaise Zabini a nod before slipping into her room. She let out a loud "FUCK!" and slumped onto her bed. What a way to make him think you're a sick psycho! What was she thinking, breathing him in (he smelt of clean laundry) without asking him first! Were you supposed to ask for things like that? Hermione groaned and punched her pillow as if it had done something wrong.

There was a knock at the door. Oops. "Are you alright in there, Granger?" Blaise asked through the door. She had forgotten she wasn't alone.

Hermione frowned. She forced out, "I'm fine, thanks for asking!" in a ridiculously false singsong voice.

Oh hell, she was not fine.

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A/N: I'm working on the 2nd Chapter right now. I'm not sure when it'll be done. It might be a long while... Hopefully, it won't be. : )