A/n: So I've just finished reading Harry Potter and the Half- Blood Prince, and frankly it was wonderful, surprisingly- change- everything- I- thought- would- ever- happen, wonderful. Thus there is no possibly way that I can finish this story for it just doesn't make sense, unless we completely disregard the sixth year. Which is really unfair because now there is no sixth year, and you have this huge gap of nothing. You have to bend your imagination a little tiny bit, just so that things 'quote unquote' fit together. Afterwards there will be so many questions unanswered, but please stick with me.

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Hermione couldn't figure out what was wrong with her, she had become some sort of matron that kissed- everyone- around- her- for- absolutely- no- reason. First Ron and now Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, the boy who had plagued her throughout her years at Hogwarts. They were never real enemies, she had to admit, but to kiss him was another story all together. And yet there she was, her lips entwined with his in a rather lengthy kiss.

All of a sudden, before Hermione had a chance to register what was going on, a blue spark flared between them, in a great surge of power. It hit Hermione hard and sent her crashing into the wall behind her with a resounding thud. For a second Hermione thought Draco had hexed her, but when the blue light faded she could see that he too had been flung aside and now lay sprawled on his bed. He lay completely still.

"Draco?" Fear washed over Hermione, as she climbed to her feet and made her way to the bed. Draco's eyes lay closed, and his face was unusually ashen except for the deep cut that bleed freely on his forehead. "Draco!"

He didn't respond. She reached forward cautiously to feel his pulse; it beat weakly but proved he was alive. Raising her wand she pointed it at the gash and muttered, "Episkey!"

Before her, his skin mended over the cut to staunch the blood. Not long after, Draco's eyelids began to flutter and then his eyes opened; they cast around for a second before registering on Hermione.

"What just happened?" Gingerly, he touched his forehead and stared in disbelief at the blood that stained his fingertips.

"I-I don't know." And it was true, she didn't know, she had never in all her research heard of such a thing. "Draco are you okay?"

"Yeah." He shrugged her concern aside absent-mindedly.

Getting to his feet he went to the bathroom, where Hermione heard him turn on the faucet. When he returned any evidence that he had been hurt was washed away and replaced by his usual smugness. Fetching the book, which he had chucked across the room moments before, Draco held it out to her. "You should leave."

"Draco..." Hermione surprisingly found a note of pleading in her voice, which she disliked greatly. The sooner she left the better, strange things were happening and she didn't fancy them getting any stranger. Snatching the book from his hand she put on, what she hoped was, a look of resigned dislike and headed out the door.

Back in her room she slammed the book on her desk and crawled into her bed determined to forget the night. Soon she fell asleep, but despite all her struggle to forget her mind clung to the memory of what just happened like a life line.

(Break)

Draco fell into bed a mess, his mind attained by Hermione's visit, which was strange- to say the least. One moment he was confessing everything to her, and using all his self-control to keep him from crying, then they were kissing. He shivered at the memory: he, a Malfoy, had kissed a Mudblood and… and… he had liked it.

It had taken him by surprise that was for sure, he had never pictured Hermione the type to throw herself at a guy, especially not him. Yet the moment their lips touched, he felt her melting like chocolate left out on a hot summer day; man it had been sweet. Then out of the blue a blue light exploded between them, and he woke up to see Hermione standing over him with the most worried expression on her face. He was really touched for a moment, but then the pounding in his head caught up with him and he noticed the blood dripping down his face.

Whatever hit him, hit him hard and with no regret. The question was, what was it?

An idea that lingered in the back of his mind, suddenly reared its ugly head. Pulling out his wand Draco held it aloft, and superstitiously crossed his fingers for good luck. The last time he raised his wand all he could do was create a fizzle; if that light for some reason returned his powers then… then he would return to his former self, and not only half of himself waiting for the day to become whole again.

Holding his breath, he flicked his wand. Out from the tip soared a multitude of brilliant colors that wrapped around him, like a loved one reunited with its soul mate.

"Yesssss!" Draco stood up on his bed and danced about in the comfort of his powers.

It reminded him of when he was young on Christmas morning, surrounded by wrapping paper and bundles of joy. He had feared that he would have to give up wizardry and become a muggle, but now with his magic returned he was jubilant. He let the parade of ethereal light dim, and snuggled beneath his covers- a carefree child once more. A deep inner warmth wrapped around him with arms of comfort and soon he drifted off to sleep, where he was whisked into dreamland reliving Hermione's kiss.