Hermione reached the opening to the prefect library and whispered the password. As she walked in the opening, she noticed that Draco was again curled up in the same armchair as the last time they met, scribbling in the same leatherbound journal and reading the same tattered book. He looked up and their eyes met. Neither broke eye contact for what seemed to be an hour, and the room buzzed with an unseen electricity; finally Hermione shifted the weight on her feet and looked down. "S'alright if I come in?"

He nodded at her. He continued to watch her as she curled up on a nearby beat-up leather couch and pulled out an obviously well read copy of Hogwarts: A History.

"What is it with you and that book? You're always reading it."

She shrugged. "I don't know. I just like it, I guess."

He accepted her answer and went back to reading his book, stopping occasionally to write something down. Hermione decided this time it would be better to leave him alone. It wasn't her business what he did anyways. They sat like that, neither talking, with the rare sound of a quill scratching against paper to break the silence.

Hermione was too engrossed in her book to notice Draco stopping to stare at her. She looked so at peace with everything, and he was amazed that she found that kind of comfort in a book. He studied her features again, and found that they looked no less beautiful than they had that night in the hospital wing. The way she shifted her body into the couch made him feel things he had never felt before - well ok, something he HAD felt before a number of times, but something else that went with it. It wasn't just lust; no, he'd lusted before and it had never felt like this. It never made his heart jump from his chest, never made his very spine tingle, never made his breath catch in his throat. He wanted to stop himself from thinking these things, stop his brain from going in that direction, but it was too late. He had started down a path that couldn't possibly end up good.

He had a crush on Hermione Granger.

The very girl he had hated for so long, who he tormented throughout most of their schooling, was the girl who now made him take a second and a third look. Even he couldn't believe it. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her, from the subtle way she licked her lips to the absentminded way she twirled a lonely curl around her finger when she read. He wondered when he started to feel this way. More importantly, he wondered why he hadn't felt this way longer. She'd been there, in front of his eyes for over five years now, a blossoming woman who possessed both beauty and intelligence. No matter how much Draco had tormented her, she still gave him chances, still showed up for their lessons.

He would never be able to have her. Lucius would never allow it, Slytherins would never allow it, and he was certain Potter and Weasley would never allow it. Hermione could never see him as anything more than a pest, a fly in her ear that would never go away, as a jerk who had repeatedly called her mudblood. Besides, he remembered, she would probably get back with Ron. He clenched his fists. It was unfair that the first woman to stir true emotions in him - jealousy, wanting, happiness - would be the one he could never have. He hastily shut his journal and shoved it in his bag.

"I've... I've got to go. See you around, Granger." She looked up at him.

"'Night, Malfoy." He scurried out of the entrance and rushed towards the Slytherin dorms. He had to get away from her before he let his emotions slip any further.

Hermione looked to where he had been sitting. In his hurry to leave, he'd left behind the book he was reading. The call of curiousity beckoned Hermione to the book. She put her copy of Hogwarts: A History down on a nearby table and cautiously walked over to Draco's book. She looked around as if there were still people in the room and picked up the book very carefully. She thought that Draco would be furious if he caught her with it.

She read the title and nearly dropped the book. It was a collection of muggle poetry. Hermione opened to a random page. She saw works by famous muggle writers, a few she hadn't heard of, and even a few Shakespearean sonnets. She was surprised. What did Draco want with a book of muggle poetry? It was obviously his: his handwriting was in the margins, making notes or comments on some poems. Some lines were underlined here and there, there were a few doodles scattered throughout the book, and a few poems had been earmarked.

She couldn't leave the book in the library. Hermione didn't want to risk someone identifying it as Draco's, as he obviously didn't want people to know about it. She slipped it inside her bag with her other belongings and grudgingly headed back to her own common room.

By now most of the younger Gryffindors had gone to bed, but a few of the older students were still up doing schoolwork. As she made her entrance into the common room, many students looked up at her. Some had a look of pity or sympathy on their faces, but she tried to ignore the stares she was recieving. Harry walked over to her apprehensively.

"Hey 'Mione." His voice was soft and apologetic. "I'm sorry about telling Ron. It sort of slipped."

"It's ok, Harry. "

"He was really shaken up earlier, you know. He was a wreck. He thinks he's lost you, 'Mione. "

"Maybe he has, Harry. He doesn't trust me."

"To his credit, you haven't been completely honest with him, have you?"

She sighed. "No, I guess not," she conceded. "But that doesn't mean he should accuse me of - "

"I know. Why don't you go up to bed Hermione? You look tired."

She nodded and headed up to her dorm. As she slid into bed, her thoughts returned to Draco's book. Hermione had been right to think that he had a softer side, and now she had the proof. She liked that side of Draco, the side that liked poetry, that played guitar, that had a twinkle in his eye when he laughed - when he genuinely laughed, not his cruel, unnatural laugh. Then she thought about Ron. She tossed and turned all night, thinking about their break up and thinking about possibly getting back together. She was in for a long night.

It was hard to get a hold of Draco Malfoy the next few days. He was avoiding her at every chance he got, making it impossible for Hermione to give him back his book. Ron and Hermione hadn't been on speaking terms during that time period either. He was too stubborn to apologize and she was still too hurt by his accusations to approach him. Harry was constantly trying to get them to reconcile. Both of his friends were hurting, and the only solution in his eyes was for the two of them to be together again, like they were meant to be.

Finally, Sunday evening Hermione had been running late for dinner. She grabbed Draco's book and tucked it in her robes before leaving. As she was rushing down the steps to the Great Hall, she spotted Draco slowly climbing a set of stairs that led to the dungeons.

"Malfoy!"

He gave a heavy sigh. He didn't see any way he could avoid her now without seeming very rude, and he didn't want her to think that of him. He paused at the bottom of the stairs and waited for her to finish her descent. She stopped a few feet away from him slightly out of breath, her cheeks pink.

"Listen...I didn't mean to be intrusive or anything, but you left this in the library the other night..." She held out the book to Draco and he stared at it wide-eyed for a few moments.

"I didn't read it..." She looked down hoping he wouldn't catch her lie. Draco finally took the book from her outstretched hand.

"Thanks." He pocketed it. The tone in his voice betrayed his disbelief, but he decided not to comment on whether or not she read it.

"Uhh... how are things, you know... with you and Ron?"

"We haven't spoken to each other since the other night."

"Oh... I see..." Draco suddenly felt a rush of suppressed joy.

They entered the dining hall together, parting ways at the door to go to their separate tables. She could tell that Ron was pissed, but Harry was muttering something to him and he visibly calmed down. By the time she reached the Gryffindor table, he was still a little miffed, but he said nothing to Hermione as she took her usual seat.

As they were eating, Dumbledore stood up to make an announcement.

"Could I have your attention please? This year the staff has decided to have a Spring Ball, sort of like a muggle prom. As such, only students fourth year and above will be allowed unless accompanied by a date. Details will be posted outside in the Great Hall: do take your time to review what is expected of your dressing as well as for the exact date, and be sure to check in frequently as all subsequent announcements regarding the ball will be posted there. Thank you."

The room buzzed with excitement as Dumbledore returned to his seat.