~~*

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.

~ Maya Angelou

~~*

Chapter Five: Illusive Nightfall

Hermione looked across the table in annoyance as Ron who was aiming for Seamus beside her hit her on the temple with a spoonful of mashed potatoes. She glared at the red head who was having a lot of trouble forcing himself not to let out a grin.

Hermione impatiently wiped off the mass of sticky potatoes that stuck to her hair. "I don't see what is so amusing…" she said in annoyance as she eyed Ron who broke out in a laugh. Harry beside him was struggling with himself as well as he suppressed a giggle.

Ron muffled an apology out of his laughter, which made Hermione not the least bit in the mood to forgive him.

Just then, Professor Mc Gonagall clinked her glass with a spoon as she tried to get the attention of the students. As the great hall grew quiet, the headmaster stood up from his seat ready to make an announcement.

"As you all know, our sixth year students are leaving for France a week from now," he started. The many students of the great hall kept the respectful silence as the headmaster continued to speak. "And I am delighted to know, that their trip to the foreign country will be undoubtedly fruitful, and enjoyable…" The headmaster's blue eyes twinkled slightly as he turned to the Gryffindor table. Purposely eying the infamous trio. "And hopefully,"

Harry recognized the Professor's mischievous smile. "Filled with wonderful adventures…"

The headmaster's gaze slowly drifted to the Slytherins who were surprised to ever be silently acknowledged in a way. Draco winced as he caught Dumbledore staring directly at him.

"So that it may teach you intermediate students, so many, valuable lessons," he finished clearly meaning something so curiously unsaid.

Mc Gonagall stood beside him and raised her glass. "A toast, for the fruitful results of this project,"

The students simultaneously raised their glasses at her gesture and drank.

Hermione smiled at Harry, she was almost sure that the trip was going to be far more interesting than any of them ever expected. Harry, who caught his friend's warm gesture, unexpectedly blushed and returned the smile.

As the hall of students resumed their dinner, Hermione pushed her plate aside and decided that she would not eat any more that night. She planed to make another trip to the library that night as she remembered all the work she had not been able to accomplish the two nights before.

But as the faint memory of that night at the library came beck to her, she felt a wavering pang of emotion run through her spine as the vivid reminiscence of that night flashed before her eyes.

Strangely, she wanted to recall that guilty feeling as she stood pressed against Malfoy and she, although she would never bring herself to admit it, enjoyed every second of it.

She remembered the way in which she had attempted to leave his arms, wondering for a moment why he didn't push he away. She tried to move away, but she didn't. Maybe because; his touch felt so inexplicably right.

Almost automatically, her gaze darted towards the Slytherin table in search of the familiar blonde hair that caught attention almost instanly. She found him sitting at the edge of the long table almost like a king. He was evidently in deep conversation with Malcolm Baddock who sat beside him. Hermione curiously wondered what they were talking about as she observed the straight expression on his face. She took a moment to wonder, what was it with this serious and secretive boy that suddenly intrigued her interests. Surely she could not have developed the slightest inclination to him these past few days. Could she?

No! Thought Hermione strongly as she turned away from the Slytherin table. Never in a million years could she ever feel the slightest proclivity to someone like him who hated her as much as she hated him. Possibly more. If there was anything that he made her feel now, it was confusion.

Something that told her that no matter what she did, she would never be able to understand him, no matter what she did. Not that she wanted to…

Hermione suddenly pushed her chair away from the table and stood up.

"Leaving already Hermione?" asked Ginny who sat beside her.

Hermione nodded and started to walk out of the Great Hall. But halfway to the door, she found that she could not resist looking back. She did, and she saw that he had looked up at her almost simultaneously, meeting her gaze equally.

Even from that far a distance, she could perceive the glinting silver orbs that clashed with her own hazel eyes. She was surprised to see that his face was devoid of all the scorn and derision it often held. Instead Malfoy looked at her with that plain curiosity he looked so strange in.

Suddenly, as if he realized what he had been carelessly doing, his eyes hardened once again and sent a savage glare in her general direction.

Hermione shrugged as she continued to walk out of the hall.

~

Draco turned back to his food as Granger left the hall. He didn't know why he took the trouble of noticing her actions then, but shrugged as he decided to let the thought go.

He found he couldn't as the memory of the other night plagued him at that moment. Their momentous instant of relief had turned in to so much more. It was something as incomprehensible as sunshine on a rainy day.

But he hadn't wanted it to turn in to something more, because it had to do with her, a lowly mudblood. She was someone out of his league, not to mention out of his reach.

At first he had become shocked at himself as he touched her hair that night. Stroking it as if it were something delicate and important. But then, all that he felt disappeared and he found that he could not push her away. Her comfort intrigued him, and perhaps, it comforted him as well.

The moment he realized that he had willingly touched her he had felt curiously pleasured, as if she had been there to serve that purpose for him.

But no, she had not. She would never be able to see him as anything. And she would never be anything more than a stranger in his life. He forced himself to remember that she was something far inferior to what he was, but strangely… It didn't matter.

The fact that someone like her could ever attract his attention surprised him. No matter how he restrained himself to think about it, he knew she had made a difference in him. Because she was different, interestingly different from any girl he'd ever met.

But that didn't cover up for the hate he felt for her now. It was greatest at that point; because she could do something no other woman could ever dream to do. She had made him sense something. Something he refused to recognize as emotion.

And for someone like him, that was unacceptable. He was suddenly overcome with a desire to hurt her, to make her feel how he felt, the confusion that he felt when he saw her.

But then, he thought. Maybe she felt it as well. Possibly more than he did.

~~*

Hermione pushed a strand of brown hair behind her ear as she sat in the Gryffindor common room wondering when Ron would quit at rambling on about the article in the Quidditch Weekly about Harry that said he was currently considering to play for the Quidditch League, which wasn't true of course. All of them knew that Harry had uncertain of his future as they all were of theirs. 

"Alright, Alright Ron, I've heard quite enough," said Ginny from behind Hermione who seemed just at irritated at him as she was.

Hermione turned around and sent Ginny a smile of relief.

"Hmm, I'm surprised you two are even listening," he said as he caught the expression on the two girls. Ginny beamed at Hermione.

Harry grinned at the three of them as he pulled out an envelope out of his robe pocket.

"What's that Harry?" asked Ron. Amusingly, his perceptiveness never seemed to fail him.

Harry took out a folded piece of parchment from the envelope.

"It's a letter from Lupin," he said.

Hermione sat up apprehensively as she showed interest in what the letter said. She remembered when Harry last wrote to Lupin and that was a few weeks ago and wondered why it had taken him until then to reply.

"Well then, don't keep us waiting Harry. What does it say?" said Ron, voicing Hermione's anxiousness.

"Well, Lupin is fine as he says. He also says he would want to meet with us soon," said Harry

"Where?" asked Hermione. "Surely not anytime this week, well be off to France in a few days,"

Harry shook his head slightly. "No, he plans to meet us in Carrouges, one of the closest towns to Avaloires,"

"How delightful! We'll have a fun time, I'm sure," said Hermione in excitement.

"But how will we be able to get out of Brentenoux? Is he sure that we are allowed out of the castle grounds?" asked Ron

Harry nodded, "He is positive. He says that during the first week of the trip, we will be allowed to leave the castle grounds and go as far as Avaloires' surrounding towns,"

"How did he know that?" Ron asked again.

Harry looked at them with a slightly confused expression. "I'm not sure, he say's he has a friend in Brentenoux. Also says that we'll be surprised to come across an old friend, he puts his emphasis on you Ron,"

Ron looked bewildered, "Me?" he asked pointing at himself.

Hermione smiled at him. "I wonder who it could be? Do you know Harry?"

Harry mused. "I have absolutely no idea,"

~~*

Opening a leather bound book, Draco sat quietly in his favourite study area of the library. It was almost empty, as the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff went on outside.

Even in the silence of the library, the cheers and shouts of the students out on the Quidditch pitch could be heard.

Draco did not care to watch, because to him it was obvious who would be the victor. As if Hufflepuff ever stood a chance against Gryffindor. Draco's straight features suddenly gave a sick look as he realized that he was favouring the Gryffindor team. But even he had to admit that it was evidently true; they would beat Hufflepuff no matter what they would try.

He shrugged, concluding that he was not about to favour any of the two teams. But that did not cover up for the fact that he actually did want Gryffindor to win the ongoing match outside, so that he could have his chance at beating Potter when Gryffindor and Slytherin were to move in to the final match. He closed his eyes and relished in the thought of showing Potter that he could outplay him. Finally showing the 'great' Harry Potter that he was not that high and almighty he thought himself to be.

Malfoy closed the book he had been nonchalantly scanning and rose from his seat. He did not want to leave yet, knowing that the Slytherin dungeon would be empty when he was to go there.

Almost all of his housemates were out at the Quidditch match. He didn't even know why any of them bothered, they would be silent all throughout the game anyway, clearly expressing that they did not care who won or lost.

Walking casually though the empty isles of books he had moved over to the Magical Beasts section randomly taking out books he had read a hundred times before returning to his seat at the end of the room.

He opened each book and ran his eyes over the closely printed letters that covered their browning pages.

As a child, he had taken a liking to reading. And considering that the Malfoy libraries had an extensively wide collection of books and reading material, he could not find anything better to do but to spend his times in the book filled halls of the manor's libraries while passing the time.

Unlike most people who did this task to pass tests and find things they would ever hardly remember in the future, Draco in his curious nature read for the fun of it. And extraordinarily, all the facts he had ever come about, remained emblazoned in his mind. Not forgetting one single detail.

There were few people who he knew would read for fun. Because reading, as a habit was branded as boring, and sometimes, even he thought of it as such. But the task was for him also enticing yet not quite an obsession like some people he knew. And one of them, was… Hermione Granger.

Draco cursed himself inwardly for thinking of Granger now, wondering why she crossed his thoughts so frequently now when she had been nothing to him for the past five years. He forced himself to think that she still didn't matter, convincing himself to believe that he only though of her that way because his revulsion had merely increased for her.

Granger, Draco thought infuriatingly, was certainly the one person who could not fail to plague his mind although she was far from him.

He remembered where she was now, and curiously, the thought of Hermione out in the warm autumn sun cheering gleefully for Harry Potter as he flew around the pitch recklessly flashed before his eyes. The mere thought sickened immensely.

Silently, he wondered how much difference it would make if anyone would ever support- no – believe in him the way Granger believed in Harry at every Quidditch match he had. He let his mind linger on the thought for a moment wondering if she was the one who made Harry's motivation grow even larger as he played every game and won it. He was almost sure that she had a habit of giving a motivational speech right before Gryffindor had a game and Potter and Weasley getting very sick of it. But her ratings evidently worked.

Draco's thoughts trailed back to a few days before, when he had insulted Hermione on the Quidditch Pitch. The way he hadn't failed to make the mudblood feel miserable. But it was another recollection that inundated his thoughts. He remembered how Harry had defended her so openly like it had meant something else.

Had it?

Maybe it had.

Suddenly, his mind rang with his own words.

'Oh, Potter, do my words sting you so? Are you harbouring some secret feeling's for Granger now?'  

Draco's features hardened as he remembered Potter's reaction. Which was so obvious, Harry had not retorted and had remained silent. That was one of the times that rarely happened when Harry Potter, Draco's one time rival had been without a word to say in front of him.  

It clearly meant something.

Of course, thought Draco, a their years together had failed to immune Potter from his own emotions. Harry Potter, though perhaps he, himself did not want to admit it just yet, loved her…

It wasn't as if it wasn't bound to happen, after all even he had to admit that ever since the fourth year, he predicted that they would undoubtedly be an item.

At his realization Draco forced himself to triumph. He had found something that was a weakness of the boy who lived. Something as childish as love.

Yet after a few moments of acknowledging this knowledge, strangely, he found that the smirk that was expected to touch his lips did not. He could not help but think that he disliked the idea of Harry ever liking Hermione in that way, even if the mere knowledge could possibly be used to his advantage.

Draco rose suddenly, determined to push the thought out of his mind. He walked out of the library unable to ignore the surge of anger that he felt for Potter at the thought of him together with Hermione.

But he refused to think of anything he felt as envy. Because it was preposterous, not to mention impossible to ever think that a mudblood like her ever affected him in that way.

~~*

Hermione sat on her trunk trying to force it shut, as she seemed to have packed to many clothes, not to mention to many books which she had concluded she would not do without while at the Brentenoux Castle doing something as book-essential as researching.

She forced to trunk lid down with her own weight as she practically humped the large trunk to close it.

"Oh come on, please close…" said Hermione rather despairingly. She had failed to notice the door of her room quietly open as Ginny entered.

Slightly bewildered at her friend, Ginny found it hard to clear her throat to get Hermione's attention.

Hermione looked up at the doorway and felt her cheeks almost automatically turn red at the realization that Ginny had seen her in such an awkward position. Ginny laughed leisurely as she entered the room.

"What is in that thing anyway, the entire Hogwarts library?" she asked with a trace of sarcasm.

Hermione smiled as she got off the trunk and sat on her bed.

"I guess leaving a few books will help," she said relatively regretting the statement. Hermione turned to Ginny.

"I agree wholeheartedly," she told her rather truthfully. Ginny took a seat on a couch that was against the wall beside the door.

"But what if we run short of information and… I leave all the right books and—" Hermione said in a frantic manner as she stood up and pulled open the trunk's cover.

Ginny shook her head at her friend in irony. "Hermione, your excursion to France is supposed to be an observation trip, a practical encounter with the creatures you are to study. All the paper work can be done here,"

Hermione mused, "Well, I think I can load off some books," she said as she pulled two large books out of the trunk. Ginny grinned at the satisfaction that she had miraculously given up to sacrificing books off her load.

"The trip is in six days Hermione, you certainly have packed way before schedule," said Ginny.

Hermione smiled at the younger girl. "Well, I wouldn't want to be hurrying at the very last moment," she said simply. Hermione looked back in to her trunk, wondering what else she was to leave behind. A smile touched her lips as she spotted something she had been meaning to give to Ginny at the day of their departure.

But Hermione thought that then couldn't have been a more appropriate time to give it to her. As she glanced up at the younger girl who was still sitting peculiarly uneasily at on her couch, she felt a slight feeling that she was to tell her something.

"What is it Ginny?" she asked abandoning the yellow scarf in her trunk and joining the young red head on the couch. "Is there something bothering you,"

Ginny hesitated before speaking, wondering if Hermione would ever listen to her worries. But though her doubts plagued her mind she knew that the older girl would definitely hear her out.

She joined her hands together on her lap as she began to speak.

"It's strange but, I have a bad feeling about you going to France," she said.

Hermione smiled at her. "We'll be fine Ginny, all of us, your brother and Harry. We'll be back in Hogwarts before you know it," she said reassuringly.

Ginny shook her head, "No, Hermione you don't understand. I'm not saying this out of worry. It's you…" she said finally.

"Me?" Hermione said in confusion. Her perplexed sentiment mingled with an emotion of worry, because she knew that when Ginny had a bad feeling; it was to be taken seriously. Even she did not know why. Perhaps her horrid experience in the Chamber of Secrets had affected her in a curious was that made her oddly susceptible to the dark arts.

"Oh Hermione you have to promise to be careful while at the castle," said Ginny facing Hermione with utmost concern.

Hermione nodded "I will, don't worry,"

Ginny's eyes were downcast, as she nodded, evidently not the least bit at ease by Hermione's assurance. She knew, that though her friend would take the utmost care of her actions, she would not be able to elude the forthcoming distress.

She could not tell what it was, for if she knew she would say. Ginny could not help but think that she was disconcerting Hermione more by telling her of what she felt.

But then, it would prepare her for what would befall her at the French Castle.

"What is it?" Hermione asked suddenly, unable to let the subject be. Especially now that she knew that it concerned her.

"I don't know," she said simply "this feeling, has been worrying me ever since Ron told me about your project,"

Hermione mused, unable to hide the nervousness at her young friend's revelation. What could possibly be waiting for her at Brentenoux Castle?

~~*

Relaxing against the green clad chair, Draco breathed in as he waited for her in his room. He sat before the clear mahogany desk as he mulled in silence.

As if on cue, his door opened and in came Blaise as she closed the door behind her and leaning against it as she breathed in evident relief.

"And how, may I ask did you shake her off this time?" asked Draco as he turned his chair around to face her breathless figure pressed against his door.

Blaise turned to Draco. The annoyance was still evident in her features. "I put a rat in her hair," she said sarcastically recalling Pansy's figure running around her room screaming at the highest pitch anyone had ever screamed at the realization that there was something squirming around in her hair.

Draco smirked as he imagined the scene himself. "Naughty, naughty my darling," he said as Blaise approached him. The red haired Slytherin sat herself on the leather couch on Draco's opposite.

"Don't call me darling, it makes me sound old," she said in an uninterested tone.

Draco shrugged as he leaned back on his chair. He looked about the room in a way that annoyed Blaise. It seemed as if she wasn't in the room the way he acted.

"What did you want?" she asked calmly.

Draco still didn't look at her as he spoke.

"I wrote back," he said simply.

She turned abruptly to him. "To your father?" she asked, already knowing what he meant.

Draco nodded silently. "W-what did you say?" she asked, not wanting to hear what he would answer her with. He chose that moment to look at her. His straight look confirmed her fears, but she still needed to hear it. She needed to hear that…

"I said yes," he told her.

Blaise could not stop her reaction as she pushed herself against the couch and closed her eyes.

For a moment, Draco regretted putting her in such discomfort. But he knew that she deserved it, because it was because of her that he chose to surrender to the will of his father, not knowing that she would soon surrender to the will of hers.  

"Why?" she asked as if dreading the answer.

Draco looked away from her and turned his chair away from her direction. He was aware of her guilty state.

Blaise turned to him. His back was to her; she didn't blame him for behaving that way in front of her. She closed her eyes again, but this time, she did something she had never done in her entire life. She let a lone tear roll down her face.

"Because of you…" said Draco in a far away voice that even sounded foreign to himself. He didn't know if he meant it, but it didn't matter now because he had already made his decision, no matter how strongly how felt against it.

Blaise' eyes flew open as she took in his words. She knew now that the tears that came were unstoppable.

She sobbed silently, even then Draco did not make an attempt to comfort her. But that was the way she wanted it; she didn't want him to.

Draco sat there silently. He knew that she was crying, but he didn't approach her. She had never cried in her entire life, and he knew it, because it was the same thing with him.

"I hate myself," she said softly as she bowed her head slightly willing herself to stop crying.

Draco turned and looked back at her. He took a deep breath as he saw her despairing figure.

"Don't," he said coolly. She glanced at him almost automatically. "You have no room in your mind for much more of something you've known almost all your life,"

~~*

Hurrying up the stairs leading to the hall, she walked in aggravated steps towards the classroom she was headed to. Opting to make haste she moved quickly though the many corridors of the castle, which led to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

A few portraits had a few remarks for her hurried actions but she chose to ignore them as she drew closer to her destination.

Professor Figg had called her a few moments ago to her classroom saying it was urgent. On her way, she could not help but think about what she would have to say to her.

Perhaps she would be assigned a new responsibility, she thought expectantly imagining what it was. It would definitely concern the excursion, as they were to leave in four days and it would be preposterous to bestow upon her a responsibility at the school when she was away in France. Hermione's anticipation over the matter led her to hurry even more at getting to the room.

She could almost taste the sense of authority she would feel when she was to be bestowed upon by another duty she would indubitably enjoy doing.

~~*

Draco entered the classroom calmly surveying the room keenly. There was no one there of course, not that he expected there to be.

The curtains were drawn back to reveal a bright sunny autumn day although that did not raise his smug mood. He moved towards the spiralling banister leading to the Professor's office at the balcony of the room.  Climbing the stairs up casually, he wondered for a moment what she would have to say to him.

Certainly it did not mean that he was in trouble – No, it did not, for he knew that he did not do any rule breaking in the last few days now did he?

Perhaps he was to be assigned a task. Oh, responsibility, how he hated it. Draco shrugged as he concluded that that was bound to be it.

Not bothering to knock, Draco entered Professor Figg's office silently.

Peeping inside, he realized that there was no one there. Great, he thought as he entered the book filled room.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was considerably big. It almost seemed like a library with all the shelves that stood against almost all four walls of the room naturally filled with books.

Draco walked towards the Professor's desk, which was stacked with many objects that seemed strange to him.

Muggle.  He thought almost automatically. His father had once told them that Professor Figg had lived fifteen years in the muggle world before she came to Hogwarts. Perhaps their strange customs and nature stuck to her somehow, he thought.

Moving over to the side of the desk, he observed a circular frame hung from an empty cage that was sited on the far end of the table. It seemed to be winded with the golden threads that provided it's color. The threads extended to the centre of the ornament and Draco thought that it resembled a spider web with several beads lining its design. A few lose braided strings with feathers on the ends were also hanging on the end of the circular adornment swinging in the gentle breeze that swept all throughout the room.

Draco opted to touch the strange ornament when he drew his hand away. No was he touching anything muggle.

Just then, the door creaked open. Malfoy looked up wholly expecting to see the Professor in the doorway.

His gray eyes narrowed when he saw who had entered the room instead.

~

Hermione who had just stepped inside the Defense Against the Dark Arts office flinched as she realized who was in the room.

She forced a hateful glare at him as she caught the maddened expression on his pale pointed face, clearly expressing his disinterest to see her.

"What are you doing here?" he said tonelessly.

Hermione almost shuddered when she heard his cold tone. All her pleasant memories of the night they had spent in the library seemed to slip away.

"I think I have the higher right to ask that question Malfoy," she told him matching his cold indifference. She took a few steps in to the room, refusing to stay at the doorway like some uninvited guest.

Draco rolled his eyes at her. "Don't take me as someone you can boss around Granger,"

Hermione looked away wondering why she ever thought that Draco Malfoy could participate in a civilized conversation.

"If you have to know, I've been called here. And you?" she asked turning back to him.

Draco shrugged as he moved away from the table proceeding to look at the shelves that held more trinkets.

"Well, I've been called here as well," he admitted squarely. His back was to her as he took up a figurine of a silver dragon that rubbed his long tail against Draco's palm affectionately. Draco smirked at the sight; he obviously could not hide his interest in the marvellous creatures.

Hermione turned towards the large desk before her as she caught sight of the dream catcher hanging on one of the cages positioned at the side of the desk. She wondered what such an item was doing hanging somewhere else other than the top of one's bed.

As if sensing her actions, Draco turned around seeing her observing the curious object he had been looking at earlier.

"What is that anyway?" he asked her casually.

Hermione looked up all of a sudden, startled that he addressed her so unexpectedly.

Hermione looked back at the ornament.

"It's a dream catcher," she said stoutly.

"A dream what?" asked Draco seemingly interested.

"A dream catcher, It does what it is. It catches bad dreams,"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "How is it supposed to do that?"

Hermione turned to him, slightly marvelling at his interest. "It's supposed to be hung over one's bed. And so when they sleep, it catches nightmares," she told him.

Draco nodded; an odd feeling overcame his insides as he acknowledged her answer to his curious question. He shrugged; he must have sounded naïve to her asking her something that must be so common in the muggle world.

He suddenly realized that the dragon figurine he had picked up earlier still say cuddled up in his palm. It had apparently gone to sleep as he could see.

Hermione looked at the dragon as she also observed that Draco was holding something. She restrained herself from grinning as she thought that he found the small figure endearing.

"You like dragons?" she asked. The question seemed to pop out of nowhere.

He turned back to her putting the figurine on the shelf.

"Quite fondly actually," he admitted heedlessly as he walked towards the professor's desk, absent-mindedly diminishing the distance between them.

"Typical," she said.

Draco raised an eyebrow once again. "What do you mean by that,"

Hermione pushed a lock of her behind her ear leisurely. Draco caught the gesture slightly unwillingly as he remembered his clandestine admiration for her hair. He could not ignore the fact that the rich brown color made her look warmly delicate. Draco shook his head slightly as he recognized his absurd thoughts once again.

"Your name… It means—"

"I know what it means Granger, I've spoken Latin ever since I was four," he snapped, cutting her off rudely.

Hermione shrugged. "Oh, and let me guess, by now, you've mastered ten languages," she said sarcastically. She turned to look at his face and saw that his features were unfazed. She almost dropped her jaw in bewilderment.

"You mean—"

"Thirteen actually," he said. Hermione took a moment to recover herself as she tried to hide her shock. She could not believe that he knew twice as many languages as she did.

"Funny, and I thought you had trouble speaking English properly," she said. Remembering all the swear words she knew he was capable of uttering.

Draco glared at her as she bit her lip, she regretted saying that to him. Hermione shrugged silently as she turned away from him and started walk towards the other side of the desk looking at the paperweights positioned in series on the top of the table.

Draco turned looked at her meager figure walking away from him. He wondered when would be the time when she would willingly approach him without feeling any repulse towards him. At the thought, he scolded himself inwardly. That would also be the time when he were to kiss the dark lord's feet and admit that he had been lusting over him for the longest time.

Hermione found herself utterly uncomfortable in the current position they were in. She did not want to admit it, but in Malfoy's presence, silence was a factor that augmented her uneasiness progressively more. She wondered what was taking the Professor the longest of times to get there, part of her wanting no longer to be along with Malfoy.

Yet, curiously, a part of her did not mind.

Draco tore his gaze away from the girl standing before him, forcing himself to remember how much hate he would actually feel towards her at a time like this one, when he found himself alone with her, and unable to do anything about it.

He perfunctorily started towards the colossal arched windows, which was behind the teacher's table as he was drawn to the slightly cloudy day outside.

Slightly frightened by the air of wind that she lightly felt as he walked past her, she took a deep breath. Unexpectedly, she turned to face his figure standing by the window, looking outside. He was apparently, strangely entranced by the slightly gloomy weather. She took that moment look at him.

He was wearing black, as she hardly saw him in anything else. She thought that it fit him very well, his skin, which was the palest shade on a person, she had ever seen. However, there was of course, his father Lucius Malfoy.

Hermione shuddered at the thought of the older Malfoy, a man who gave you the dullest impression of himself when you met him. She could not help but think how similar Draco was to his own father. But then, she wondered, would Draco ever be the evil, malignant murderer that his father was?

Hermione sighed, as if regretting her conclusion. Most likely, she thought.

Still, she knew that she doubted it so much. She could not help but think of the many times she had been allowed a peak in to his hidden personality, almost as if she believed that he could be different from what he seemed. The cold unfeeling boy that was he.

The distance between them was almost too close. Draco was aware that she was merely an arms reach away from him. He was unable to resist turning around and looking at her. He was almost surprised to find that she was looking at him.

Hermione didn't bother to hide her surprise as he turned to her. Nor did she opt to move away from him.

She tried to take in what she could unmistakably see before her. It was there once again, as it had been when she had looked at him in the Transfiguration classroom; the pain that had grazed his features as if it was something natural. So much of it, so vividly expressed that she could have sworn to have felt it herself.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as he started to approach her closing in the small distance that was between them. She looked up at him, meeting his steely gaze. Standing so close to him, she looked at him with curiosity, wondering why he could instantly render her breathless with his mere close presence. She cogitated if she had an effect on him, but doubted it so.

Standing there breathing his intoxicating scent made her never want to pull away from that moment. Her mind felt like it was floating, an effect she had never felt before.

She reached for the table behind her realizing that she could no longer hold herself up as weakness overcame her abruptly. She looked away from his face as she moved a bit backwards, leaning on the table.

Draco was overcome with a sense of loss as she dropped her eyes to look down. God knows why he did what he did next.

Almost instantaneously, he raised his hand to her chin lifting her face up renewing his view of her flushed features. Her eyes widened as he did this, probably in trepidation.

His eyes grazed over her face quietly admiring the hidden beauty, which he could now see. He wondered how someone like her could draw his admiration so easily when she was supposed to be one of the things he was brought up to hate and despise.

His fingertips lightly traced her jaw as it slowly ran up her smooth face. Her skin was so soft he could have sworn it compared to his. And even more overwhelming was the warmth it possessed; such warmth that seemingly passed on to his cold hand when he touched her.

Hermione shuddered as Draco ran his fingers on the side of her face. His skin was strangely cold, like he was dead. But the sensations she felt when his fingertips grazed her skin was an indication to her that he was very much alive.

As he got higher, he transferred his touch, from her skin on to a lock of her hair, stroking it tenderly. He remembered the night in the library when he had touched her hair, first discovering the soft, pleasurable feel of it.

A deep blush had begun to appear on the tops of her cheeks as she realized as she met his eyes once more. She looked at the steely pools of silver as they looked at her now, irrefutably tinged with so much emotion she never thought him capable of ever feeling. A voice in her mind told her to forget everything at that moment and surrender to the pleasure she indisputably felt at that moment.

Hermione's mind spun, wanting that moment to go on and on until the end of time.

"Ehhrm," said someone from the doorway. To Hermione, it sounded as distant as someone clearing her throat a thousand miles from where they were.

Draco however didn't think the same as he sprang away from Hermione as if he had been burned.

The both of them looked at Professor Figg in shock.

"I think this meeting can proceed accordingly now," she said trying to hide her amusement at seeing the both of them in that unusual situation. Unfortunately, a slight smirk already touched her features.

Hermione's voice caught in her throat as she realized the jeopardy of the situation. A teacher had seen them, a teacher. Not to mention a teacher in one of the highest-ranking positions in their school. Visions of her being the talk of the faculty almost made her faint.

Draco however kept his face straight as if nothing had happened. But Professor Figg could perceive his lips twitching slightly as she observed him trying to control himself. He took a slight step away from Hermione as the Professor approached them.

She cleared her throat before motioning to the seats in front of her desk. Hermione turned stiffly to the brown leather clad seats and walked towards one to take a seat. Her hands weakly gripped the armrests as they trembled violently.

Draco taking a slow breath followed suit and sat down on another chair, clearly making sure that he sat as far away from Hermione as possible.

The Professor was aware of their awkwardness under the circumstances and chose to not press on the subject further, she jumped right at the topic she was meaning to discuss with the both of them.

"Well, I am sure that the both of you are aware of the forthcoming trip to France,"

The both of them nodded weakly as the professor smiled.

"Then I shall cut right to the chase," she started "you see, as much as we members of the faculty would like to accompany you students for the entire month stay at Brentenoux, we could not also abandon our duty to the Hogwarts students which will remain here,"

Hermione nodded as the Professor spoke, she had a hidden sinking feeling that she already knew why she was called there.

"Thus we are not able to guarantee that our supervision over the batch of your year shall not be in our hands at all times. This is why I have asked you both here," Professor Figg took a breath.

"Are you aware that the both of you are the highest ranking prefects of your year?" she asked.

Hermione nodded weakly as she looked at Draco who had a straight look on his face. She had concluded that he was not indeed aware of the fact. She looked away from him as she turned back to the Professor.

"Then discern it now Mr. Malfoy, for you are as you know the sixth year salutatorian and therefore second in this rank,"

Draco shrugged silently showing slight discontent for being emphasized as merely second best, next to Hermione, a mudblood.

"Anyway, as I have said my fellow Professors and I shall not be around Brentenoux Castle at all times during your trip there, so I have to impose the authority of the higher students over your schoolmates," Hermione's face lit up unexpectedly. "In other words, the both of you shall take charge of your class when we will be out of the premises,"

"But Professor," said Hermione in a shrill voice that irritated Draco. "How about our research work?"

"Yes, yes of course you shall have time to do all that. I am not giving you full responsibility of running the castle, you can be sure of that. The Brentenoux castle, of course like any other institution will have numerous personnel that will assist all of you during your stay at the castle. I have placed you in the same group by the request of the headmaster so that communication between the both of you will be easy,"

Hermione sighed, no wonder the Professor had flatly refused regrouping in her case.

Draco who had been silent for the past few minutes chose that moment to speak. "Then what are we to do exactly Professor?" he asked nonchalantly.

Hermione forced herself not to look in his direction.

"Of course I shall assign the both of you a few tasks and measures as to handle your fellow students, but mainly I shall clarify now that the safety of the students will be your primary concern. Especially now that Professor Dumbledore has insisted that permission to exit the castle premises be granted," she shook her head slowly at the mention of this, clearly showing her disapproval. "To tour the country side of course, and not so anything else," she added primly.

"At what times will you be in the castle premises Professor?" asked Hermione.

"Occasionally, do not worry Ms. Granger. Though in case of an emergency, we shall keep in touch with you. Do not hesitate to call any of us in that case,"

Hermione nodded. "Do insist for the other Prefects to aid you if this be needed," continued Professor Figg who started to lean back on her chair to ease the slight strain she felt on her back.

"And another thing," she said. Hermione leaned forward to hear her better. "This is one of the things I insist you impose"

"And that would be?" asked Draco.

"Never, ever, allow a student to exit the Brentenoux castle grounds after midnight," her words were emphasized. "No exemptions not even prefects. Not even the both of you,"

Draco raised an eyebrow at her, "Is there any special reason why not Professor?"

The Professor looked at Draco warningly as she detected his strong sense of adventure. "I shall not want to sound superstitious so I shall not continue. However, Mr. Malfoy, you are forewarned because I do mean it. Many things go on at Brentenoux after midnight that are even too strange even for the magical society to comprehend," she said in a caveat tone. Hermione could not help but be afraid of the Professor's warning.

Draco could not hide his curiosity this time as he wondered what she meant.

The Professor regained her cheery nature after saying the warning. She then smiled at the both of them as she prepared to end the meeting. Her smile widened as she realized the distance between the both of them, remembering the situation in which she had found them in when she entered her office.

"I don't think I have to ask you to get along, surely you both are already aware that if you don't get over this rivalry, you shall not succeed in performing an exceptionally excellent job at your duties. Do you promise to straighten out your issues on your own?" she asked.

Hermione looked insulted as she stared at the Professor. She muffled a reply as the professor grinned in satisfaction.

Malfoy did not look as happy to hear that either as he muttered illegibly about incompetent

mudbloods. Hermione glared at him as she heard him use that infuriating term with her again.

The Professor sighed; this is hopeless, she thought as she dismissed the two students.

~~*

"Issues, issues," muttered Hermione angrily as she strode down the hallway with Ron and Ginny "She thinks I have issues!" she practically screeched.

Ron jumped at her sudden outburst as Ginny looked at her in bewilderment.

"What is wrong with you?" asked Ron as he steered the two girls to the right as they took a turn from the previous landing they just passed through.

"Yes Hermione, you haven't spoken a word about why Professor Figg called you to her office," said Ginny rather worriedly. Ron nodded.

Hermione took a breath before answering them. "Apparently, I have been assigned the boss of you all when we get to France. She asked me to take on the responsibility of managing all of us while we are on the research trip,"

Ginny looked at her, perplexed." I don't see what is wrong about it,"

"Yeah, you love responsibility," he said with ephemeral interest.

Hermione shrugged. "But I have to share that responsibility," Ron looked at Hermione having the slight impression that she was a spoiled brat.

"Don't you think that's rather selfish of you?" asked Ginny. " I mean, you have too much on your back already—" Ron looked completely agreed with his sister as Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"I have to share it with Malfoy," she said finally. Her words made a direct impact on Ron; the tall read head stopped in his tracks and stared at her in bewilderment.

"M-Malfoy? But… why?" he asked. Ginny looked almost as anxious as Ron to hear Hermione's reply.

"In case you haven't noticed Ron, Malfoy is the second highest ranking student in the sixth year, and apparently also the second highest ranking student official in our year," she said matter-of-factly.

"Well, that doesn't cover up for the fact that he is a git and shouldn't be deserving of anything that prestigious," said Ron. "I mean it isn't bad enough that he's in your research group,"

Hermione sighed, "Thank you Ron, for reminding me of that discomforting fact, now I shall go on with my day with utter happiness and joy in my heart," she said sarcastically.

Ron looked at her sympathetically. "Wait 'til Harry hears, he's going to want to shred Malfoy's –"

Ginny cut off her brother unexpectedly, "Spare me the bad, bad thoughts Ron," she told him. Hermione nodded.

"Well, all the same he's going to be steamed," said Ron. Hermione looked at him wondering why Harry would ever react in that sort of way, when she thought Ron had the hotter temper of the both of them. Ginny must have thought the same way as her face straightened in a contemplating manner.

"And you won't tell him just yet unless the time comes to it," said Hermione.

"Why would I want to lessen his lifetime by doing that?" asked Ron almost innocently. Hermione almost smirked at this."

"Because you're his best friend you git!" she said. Ron grinned at her and twisted his fingers in the air making a scouts sign.

"Wizard scout's honor," he said mimicking the muggle children he had seen during a trip to Kingston with his parents as a child.

~~*

Making sure that the coast was clear, Harry motioned for Hermione and Ron to hurry on across the landing just after one of the ghouls had passed the doors of the great hall and had disappeared in to the stairs leading to the Slytherin dungeons. With the invisibility cloak in Harry's hand the three of them moved along the lawn of the Hogwarts castle gingerly. They were now all too big to all fit in the invisibility cloak which is why they would not all wear it at the same time.

That was why sneaking out after hours became a risky task if the three of them were to all go.

The trio broke in to a run, as the lamplight by the door of Hagrid's hut grew more distinct in the gloom. When they reached the front of the cabin, Harry rapped on the door casually as Hermione turned back to the school to see if anyone had seen them.

Almost suddenly, Hagrid had flung the door open. Hermione couldn't help stifle a giggle as she saw that Hagrid was wearing a flower themed apron, which seemed ten sizes too small for him.

"Oh," he said looking down at the trio. "Well, what'er you doin' standin around ther fer? Get in, get in," he said as he moved out of the way for the three of them to pass. The trio stepped inside casually as Hagrid moved over to the oven by the tables and brought out a large fruitcake and placed it on the table before the trio. They sat down casually by the table.

Hermione tried to put on a cheery smile at the sight of the half burnt pastry but found that she could not hide her discomfiture at soon being fed something like that. Ron seemed to agree with her as he wrinkled his nose at the scent of scalded dough.

"Um, Er, smells good Hagrid," said Harry awkwardly trying to give the giant some credit. Ron and Hermione glanced at him in astonishment and Hagrid seemed to notice this.

"Well, ye' don' hav ta eat it, this oven's bin' giving me trouble lately. Can' seem ter cook at the righ' temprature'," he said.

The trio took a breath of relief as Hagrid put away the burnt cake and placed it on the floor for Fang to eat. The bloodhound that peculiarly liked it started biting in to the pastry without hesitation.

Ron observed this, and gave a sick look.

Hagrid started pouring them tea from the kettle and offered each of them a cup.

"So, what did you ask us here for?" asked Harry who took up his cup of tea and started sipping it gradually.

"Well, remember tha' surprise I told ye all about three weeks ago?" he asked them. The three of them nodded accordingly. "Well, ther's bin a problem,"

"What do you mean Hagrid?" asked Hermione as she took a gulp of her tea.

"Yeh mus' be won'drin why I haven' shown yeh anything in class recently,"

"Well, yes, I did wonder about that for quite some time," said Hermione. "What's the problem?"

"I mean even Dumbledore disapproves of it," he told them.

Harry leaned forward in anxiousness.

"What exactly is 'it' Hargid?" he asked. Ron and Hermione looked like they shared Harry's anxiousness.

"Come over 'ere, I'll show yeh," said Hagrid as he stood up and turned to walk out of the back door. The three glanced at each other in curiosity as they laid down their teacups on the table and followed Hagrid out the small hut.

With a small oil lamp in hand, Hagrid led the trio out in to the yard where he kept various magical creatures for his classes. But farther along the yard, the trio could see that there was something new about the whole scene, there at the edge of the yard, was what looked like a small shed. Harry thought that it must have been built as a makeshift stable.

His curiosity grew even more as Hagrid led the three of them directly in the direction of the new addition to the yard.

Reaching the spot across the yard, Hagrid placed the lamp on the ground as she started to remove the many wooden boards that were put in place in front of the shed's door presumably to keep what ever was in there from getting out.

The trio stood by him in anticipation.

By the time the last board came off the door, Hagrid took up his lamp again and bended to allow himself in, as the same time; motioning the trio to enter after him.

Hagrid hung the lamp in one of the nails that was hammered loosely on the door as the only lighting in the cramped room.

Harry went in the room first any by the time Ron entered; Hermione heard a strange loud neigh that seemed to have come from inside of the shed. She did not hesitate to hurry inside to see what had made the strange noise.

What met her eyes made her gasp in awe. What looked like a gray horse that had (as she could see) eight legs with a white mane flowing smoothly down its back was standing behind a half boarded stable nudging Hagrid's hand affectionately. Hermione had never seen anything quite like it; she could not even recall anything even resembling this creature in any of the books she had ever read.

"What is it?" asked Ron voicing Hermione's unasked question. The creature had definitely sensed their presences and was now loudly neighing showing insecurity. Hagrid immediately started stroking the horse's mane to quiet it down.

"It's called a Sleipnir," said Hagrid. "These creatures can run faster than the wind I shoul' recon,"

"I can see that," said Harry eying the steed's multiple limbs.

"Eight legs in all," he stated "Yeh' shoul' see them run. You wouldn' find a be'er transport if yer' in eh hurry," Hagrid grabbed a brush hanging from one side of the stable and started brush the Sleipnir's silvery locks.

"Woul' yeh like a try Harry?" he asked as he handed Harry the brush who accepted it gratefully. The Sleipnir made a slow neigh as it set its black eyes at Harry who hesitated before attempting to touch it again.

"Don' be 'fraid Harry, it won' hurt yeh," Hagrid said encouragingly as the Sleipnir started to feel comfortable with Harry. "Ther, thas a good one,"

Hermione stepped forward in an attempt to get a better view of the creature.

"Uhm, Hagrid," she started. "Why doesn't Professor Dumbledore approve of this creature, I mean, it seems harmless,"

"Well, thas' wha' I told em, but he thought it would be too dangerous fer a whole class to have it,"

Ron looked at them, perplexed. "We had Buckbeak didn't we? Surely this couldn't be worse than him,"

Hagrid put on a confounded expression.  "Dumbledore's word is something I take fer advice Ron, and I don't think I'll take the risk… again,"

Hermione grinned, remembering all the times Hagrid had brought illegal animals in to the school, insisting that they were harmless when they were actually fatal. Perhaps the Sleipnir was no different to all those incidents, and it was right for him to be cautious.

"I recon you ought ta see Maxine firs' before I send her away," he told the three of them, and with that Ron let out a loud cough.

"M-Maxime… It's a girl?!" he asked in bafflement. Hermione and Harry shared the same shocked expressions as they looked at Hagrid.

"But Hagrid, you've never brought in a female creature here before," said Harry.

"She was the only one available and I though' I'd name her after her," he said.

Hermione giggled. "You don't mean Madame Maxime from Beauxbattons now do you?" she asked grinning from ear to ear.

Hagrid smiled sheepishly.

"I'll take that for a yes?" said Ron as the trio laughed in delight.

~~*

Sitting quietly on the chair he had been asked to sit on, Draco breathed in slowly trying to control his frustration.

Snape watched the young boy before him gingerly; aware of the discomfort the discussion of the matter at hand had caused him. But as he began to seem more like himself and had instigated to regain control of his senses, Snape addressed him again.

"Your father is not pleased Draco,"

Draco shrugged. "Never, never in his life had he been pleased with me and now is not the exception," he stated as the Professor nosed in reply, showing disapproval of his frankness.

"So shall I come up with the much needed excuse, or shall I leave that up to you Professor?" he asked sarcastically taking a glass paperweight up from the Professor's desk and examining it unflappably.

Snape sighed. "Lucius will not be fooled any longer Draco, and you must make your decision," he told the younger boy impatiently.

Draco looked back at the Professor blankly, "I have made my decision," he stated. Snape felt a shock of fear run though his body as Draco spoke those five crucial words. He almost regretted asking the next question like he did.

"And what is your decision Draco?"  Snape tried desperately to keep his tone from faltering.

Draco looked away from him as a distant look fell upon his features. The tension in Snape's nerves grew increasingly as Draco had kept silent for a moment.

"I have … accepted," Draco stated finally as he placed the glass figure back on the desk, not even minding to look at Snape.

The Potions Master's face grew a deathly shade of white as he took this in. It took everything in him to finally speak after a moment of awkward silence.

"Then, why the excuse?" he asked Draco.

The young Malfoy smirked. "I have accepted my father's proposal but it does not mean that I trust him entirely," he drawled. "I wrote to him with impossible confidences that for once he would give me time,"

"Your father is rather impatient Draco," said Snape looking at Draco with something that could only be read as concern.

"Impatient!?" said Draco in mock surprise, "Do you think you think that you are underestimating my father's temper,"

"Alright, Lucius is blatantly inconsiderate," said Snape said sarcastically. 

Draco did not need to nod to show his agreement for it was plastered all over his face. The professor frowned at him suddenly knowing why Lucius Malfoy was positively intolerant with his own son's acid sense of humour.

"Is there something else you would like to know, Professor?" asked Draco in a drawling tone.

Snape glanced at him curiously, and then shook his head. The young boy gathered himself up and stood up leaving the cold Potions classroom.

The Potions Master looked at Draco's retreating figure from the room having a sinking feeling that all hope that he had in Draco refusing his father's wishes for him had disappeared. Then he shook his head, choosing not to think negatively. The young Malfoy was much too mysterious to be that predictable, and many things could indeed happen in a matter of months.

Remembering the wretched work that awaited him in his office, Snape turned from the classroom and walked in to the room behind him.

~~*

Hermione drew in a breath as she walked out of the library, somewhat relieved that their group study lesson had finished early. In fact, almost all the paper work had been done with and all their group needed was the observation reports they would get to do when they got to Orne. Padma had helped her with the completion of the main essay that afternoon she and Seamus had almost accomplished the compilation of their reports.

She sighed knowingly, she was almost sure that this project would be a success. All because of her hard work and her group mate's dedication to the activity… and not to mention Malfoy's resources.

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment at a realization. Malfoy had not attended the meeting.

For a moment, she wondered what would keep him from it, but then it dawned on her. For the past two days, he must have gone out of his way just to avoid her. Hermione mused remembering the last time she had seen him, which was two days ago in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Her eyes flew open at that fleeting moment, as a bombardment of memories she had forced out of her mind for that past few days fell on her unexpectedly.

Gingerly, she continued walking down the hall as she realized that she couldn't repeat the task of forcing to forget that moment for the second time. Once more, her mind raced with the greatest confusion as she remembered that instant in Professor Figg's office when she had been swept with the utmost emotion she had never even imagined herself feeling.

She shook her head vigorously as visions of him returned to her mind, trying to ward off the feelings of confusion and uncertainty that the memory plagued her with. However, she had never succeeded at trying not to think of him when realization dawned on her. Then was not an exception.

He had touched her, she remembered suddenly as her had involuntarily went up to touch her cheek, tracing the path of his fingers as best as she could remember it. The recollection of the pleasure that his touch provided her was extolled in her mind, like a part of her never wanted to forget it. She could not believe that his cold touch had caused so many eerie sensations to run up her spine. She almost admitted to liking his presence, especially when they were alone… But there was a key word to that statement…

Almost.

She stopped as she drew her hand away from her face. She chose to think that it had meant nothing, and it never will.

Because he was Malfoy, someone she hated, and someone who hated her equally as much. And appeasement would never be possible between them, and so would anything more that that. It would be wrong, for never in her life had she known such a greater rival than him. And the knowledge that her mere thoughts betrayed everything she had been raised to believe in aroused a feeling in her that surpassed the undeniably preposterous enticement, which she felt for Draco Malfoy.

Guilt.

It was something she hadn't felt in ages, mainly because she had not reason to even think of it. But that was until he came along.

Yet, even so, time had taught her too much and through all the confusion she so unbearably felt, she knew that one thing was clear in her mind.

She could never live with guilt.

~~*

Ginny entered the Gryffindor common room hassling as she caught the sight of Hermione heading crossing the hallway leading to the Gryffindor tower.

She burst in to the common room arising everybody's attention.

"She's coming!" she hissed in excitement as the effect of those simple words was seen instantly. Everybody who had been up on the chairs putting the last final changes to the decorations of the room had hurried in to their hiding places and kept quiet.

Ginny quickly moved over to the couches beside Ron and Harry who also, could not hide their anticipation at surprising their friend.

~

Hermione walked in to the common room leisurely as the fat lady let her in. She wondered for a moment what the knowing smile the portrait had sent her meant as she moved in to the room.

But that thought was pushed out of her mind when she turned to look at the room she had entered. An astounding sight had met her eyes. The Gryffindor Common room was decorated beautifully, the walls were draped with blue and gold and the floating lanterns had lit the hall causing it to be brighter than usual.

Yet that wasn't what caught her eye. In the center of the room where a huge table was set instead of the usual couches, which was now arranged at the sides of the room, was a huge three layered cake topped with what she could see as… sixteen candles.

The table was surrounded with many gifts of many sizes. And above it, was something that made her gasp with joy. A banner that read, 'Happy Birthday Hermione' hung across the arched ceiling of the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Surprise!" came a shout from the many people who revealed themselves one by one. Hermione let out a big smile as her housemates started to greet her. It was when Ron and Harry moved towards her when she was able to speak.

"I shouldn't have doubted you to make this day the best birthday of my life," she said as she hugged Ron and Harry with overflowing gratitude.

"And don't we know it," said Ron as he led Hermione to the cake sitting on the table in the middle of the room. She looked at him as he grinned at Harry who couldn't help but laugh. The entire sixth year population gathered around her as she stood before the birthday cake.

"Aren't I to old for this?" she asked, refusing to be chanted with a happy birthday song. 

Harry grinned at her. "Hermione, you're never too old for anything," he said with a laugh.

~~*

Draco sat quietly on the leather couch in his chambers, doing his contemplating rituals as he had nothing better to do. Their classes were cancelled as they were expected to make ready for the forthcoming excursion they were to go in two days. And he had finished his packing really, not that he chose to pack everything he had in possession.

Possession…

Such a powerful word that meant two different things. One was ownership… and the other… control. Control was one thing he wanted of ever since he was a child. Something his father had taught him, but still to him, it was still a vital part of his existence. He had attained it, but not to the fullest. And now that his father had actually succeeded in persuading him of becoming a servant of the dark lord, he would be forced to give it up… or would he?

When Draco was a child, Lucius had told him of how special he had thought Draco was. Not that Draco thought that any of his father's praises had actually meant anything seriously. Draco had heard praised when he was a child, and like the Malfoy that he was, he enjoyed it. So much that he craved for more. Yet, as he grew older, and as he achieved more and more; his father's praise had been more scarce, as if Lucius had only raised Draco's hopes up to no avail.

But he learned easily, and he grew up convincing himself that Lucius' approbation of him was not something that he was willing to sacrifice a lot to attain. He worked, considerably hard to please not his father, nor his friends, not even the Dark Lord… but no one else, but himself.

Unexpectedly, he had reached the height of his hopes and expectations. Of the years he had spent at Hogwarts, he had gained much; he had attained something he had always wanted from everyone around him. Respect; the superiority in which he had held himself over the years.

But it wasn't enough because he had failed in one thing he had set his mind in doing. And that was to be the best.

That ultimate goal was shattered, by the one person who he had positioned as his archrival ever since his first year. The renowned, hero of the wizarding world… Harry Potter.

Draco had concentrated his loathe on Potter for ever since he had so stupidly refused his friendship. Of course, Draco didn't think that Potter's decision was that stupid anymore. Not that he would admit it.

He wondered that if Harry had indeed done so, would he even care to show the slightest concern for him now that he was top of the Dark Lord's list for future 'followers' to be. Draco sighed, perhaps being the dependable friend Harry Potter was, slight concern wouldn't be his sentiments towards the matter.

Draco shook his head, the last thing he would want to feel now was…

No! He couldn't feel it. It was preposterous for a Malfoy to ever feel the fraudulent feeling of regret. Not now, now, that Harry was looked upon as a better person than he was. The one thing that he was determined to keep was his pride. For he knew, that there were many things that Harry had failed in beating him in at. And one of them was academics…

Draco had worked himself up to one top spots in their year when it came to grades. Apparently, the many Malfoy libraries had its uses. And let us not forget the stuck knowledge he always had being a pure blooded member of the wizarding community.

Yet ironically, there was but again one flaw in that fact. And that was where Harry Potter's partner in crime came in. It was none other that Hermione Granger, Hogwarts' top student.

Draco frowned at the thought of her. She was someone whom he had also purposely set his mind on hating for the past few years.

Because of her, his father had another reason to look down upon him. The thought of Draco being outstripped by a mere mudblood maddened Lucius gravely.

And because of her, Draco had shamefully fallen in to the position of second best. Because of her… he wasn't even sure who he was anymore.

Suddenly, the memory of that moment in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom returned to him. He had, in the span of forty-eight hours (like her, he imagined) succeeded in not letting his mind linger on such a disturbing thought. But that time was done with, and fragments of the memory came crashing down upon him like a wild typhoon.

It had taken one glance from her big curious eyes for him to become intrigued by her. One glance, and he had known that he would fall into her bewitching spell that she had so unknowingly cursed upon him. The moment he had approached her, she had trembled.

He had felt her fear, yet he wondered for a moment what she thought at that moment. For she didn't move away, not an inch of distance was regained when he found himself so close to her. She looked away from him probably in fear and doubt of herself. But he had refused to let her tear her gaze away from him, because he had wanted so badly to do something he had found himself partially incapable of ever since he had known her.

He wanted to read her, thought her eyes. He had wanted to find out her sentiments about that moment. So he touched her, raising her gaze back to his.

Nothing had ever left him more unprepared for what he saw.

Her eyes, invigorating hazel pools; looking at him with confidence. The fear in them, disappearing almost magically, as if it had never been there.  In its place, he had something he had least expected of her to feel in his arms. It was something so impossible, so unbelievably strange, something as vague yet comforting.

Something he could only recognize as… faith.

Draco suddenly found himself living in an impossible world. First he had thought— no, even worse, he had imagined Potter as his friend, and now… now he was spending his time thinking about Granger, in a way that had practically sent him halfway to admitting that he was attracted to her. Was he?

Draco bowed his head as he ran his hand through his hair. He didn't know why, but denying everything he had thought about at that moment had felt so incredibly wrong.

He suddenly wanted to take revenge on her, for rendering him so pathetic in the current state he was in. He felt confusion now as if it was a regularity, which it was never supposed to be. The pain of it that she had so inevitably caused him had stung so deeply in his chest that it felt as if he would never feel the end of it.

Feel?  Had she taught him how to feel as well? Draco shrugged. Maybe she did. Perhaps the false emotion, which he had been meaning to live on all his life, had failed to make him survive just a fourth of his lifetime.

But he thought that would not be possible if he would not let her. Apparently, Granger could only have so little effect on him. After all, she was but a filthy mudblood that was not supposed to matter to him.

Yet she had, in some twisted psychopathic manner she had succeeded in mattering to him, even in the slightest way. And he, he was merely too stubborn to admit that fact.

~~* 

"Oh Harry, Ron it's wonderful! Ginny! Did you pick this out?" said Hermione in excitement as Harry slipped on a beautifully made silver-sapphire ring on her finger as he took it out of it's blue velvet case that she had sworn to have seen before.

Ginny who sat in front of her was about to answer negativity when Ron put an arm around her and answered the question for her.

"Yes, it was her idea, couldn't have picked it out without her," he said winking at his sister who looked at him gratefully at the credit he had unexpectedly bestowed upon her. Of course she had never known that Harry and Ron planned on giving Hermione such a gift on her birthday, but she had indeed done a good job of keeping the secret ever since she had seen Ron bagging the box three weeks ago in the great hall and pressed him to tell her what it was.

"It's a beautiful gift," Hermione exclaimed as she held it up in the firelight of the hearth in the now messy Gryffindor Common Room. The sight of it after her surprise birthday party was disastrous, but she could not help but be overjoyed by the state of it now as she remembered the night that had gone by when almost all of the Gryffindors had joined in fun. It made Hermione overly elated to discover that so many people remembered her special day.

The trio, along with Ginny were now sitting by the hearth of the Gryffindor common room happily recalling the happenings of the night that had slowly been done with.

"I don't know how you remembered when my birthday actually was! How 'did' you remember," asked Hermione.

Ron and Harry looked at each other and grinned. "Ginny!" they said in unison. Ron's younger sister blushed. "She'd remember any occasion as if there was a calendar implanted in her brain," joked Ron. Ginny frowned at him.

"I do not," she said firmly.

"Alright, when did Percy fall out the window when Hermes flew too soon while he was tying the chocolates for Penelope which was actually too heavy for her," asked Ron.

"July twenty first, two years before – hey!" huffed Ginny as the trio began to laugh.

"See, exactly my point," concluded Ron as he continued to laugh. Eventually, Ginny gave up to the moment and started to laugh as well.

"Thank you Gin, for remembering," said Hermione "And thank you all, for this wonderful day,"

"Nothing to it Hermione," said Ron. "It was our pleasure,"

~~*

She grasped golden ropes of the curtains of the French doors as she started to leisurely step in to the balcony of her room. It had been a long night, but still, Hermione was not even sure if she wanted to go to sleep just yet.

Her bear feet clapped down on the stone floor of the balcony. She felt the coldness run almost instantly up her body.

Pulling the red cloak around her shoulders, she gazed up at the sky, which was devoid of any dark clouds. The moon shone brightly in a waning gibbous phase that lit the dark sky of the night illuminating even the far horizon that was seen at the end of the Forbidden forest. She had an exquisite view of the tall pines of the forest from her window, she could even see the lake which seemed to glimmer no matter what time of the day it was.

Hermione fondly remembered the time she had actually been in the lake, which was two years ago. She remembered how she had opened her eyes and spotted Viktor as the one who had saved her. She was grateful for his safe capture of her, but then she also had the disturbing feeling of wanting to see Harry when she opened her eyes. She had indeed had a small inclination towards Harry then. But it was only in their fifth year when she had gone down to admitting it, but only when she was sure that the childish sentiment was gone.

Indeed that lake had been the venue of one of her unforgettable experiences, which that was. But then, she thought, she hadn't exactly visited the Hogwarts lake since her fourth year, which was sort of ironic, considering that it was always there, so near. Yet, until then she hadn't given that simple fact.

It was common fact in Hogwarts that that spot was a common meeting place for lovers, couples who were most likely in their intermediate years and probably planning to marry after Hogwarts. Too many times had Hermione spotted seventh or sixth year couples leaving the clearing maybe after their snogging sessions or something like that, with a sense of envy that she had not yet found someone to share the foolishly enjoyable feeling of love. Yet, the spot by the Hogwarts lake was beautiful, and she could not find anyone better to share the view with than her friends. Yes, perhaps tomorrow she could invite Harry and Ron and even Ginny down to that specific spot to enjoy a farewell picnic before they left Hogwarts for France. It would definitely mean a lot to them, especially to Ginny, who would miss them dearly during the entire month of their excursion.

But that was for tomorrow, and today was drifting away slowly. Hermione wondered if she should go down there for a few moments and enjoy the solitude of the scene while she waited for the hours until dawn came.

Her more logical side objected to the rash thought, but then she realised that it would not be such a bad idea.

Deciding on it, Hermione entered her room once again as she ran to dress up in a much warmer attire for the cold weather bellow. She pondered on how to cross the Hogwarts halls without being seen but smiled to herself as she remembered that the invisibility cloak was still in her possession from the last time she had borrowed it from Harry.

~~*

Kicking another small pebble in to the lake with a black booted foot, he pulled his pale white hands out of the leather gloves and shoved it in his pocket. He did not even know why he bothered to wear them anyway as he fondly found that his hands temperature barely ever changed.

Draco turned up at the canopy of the trees that hung above him and began to notice the near-full moon starting to descend in to the horizon. Draco guessed that it must be midnight. He twisted his gaze towards the west and found hovering grey clouds threatening to cover up the clear sky as they moved slowly eastward.  It was going to rain, he thought as he looked back at the shimmering lake slightly amused at the giant squid doing cartwheels on the lake bottom looking similar to a muggle Ferris wheel at carnivals.

Shrugging, he wondered what he was even doing there, for surely not to see this, he thought scowling at the squid. He had let his instinct lead him there, once again being so vulnerable to his senses. It didn't matter to him what he did then, but a cold night out by the Hogwarts lake sounded better than sulking in the Slytherin common room once again.

He closed his eyes gingerly breathing the crisp air that filled the atmosphere. He pushed his hair back away from his eyes as he took a step towards the glistening body of water.

He took a step back however as he heard twigs snap at a cluck of a heel.

~~*

Hermione wandered out on to the schoolyard in her invisible self casually. The footsteps of her high-heeled boots were heard she took each step crushing the grass under her feet. She neared the lake almost too quickly as the grass became thinner and shorter. She took the invisibility cloak off herself and placed it casually in the small bag she had brought along with her.

Squinting her eyes in the dark, she could make out a twisted path leading towards the lake. The walkway was lined with small stones that were probably placed there purposefully. Hermione led herself down the narrow pathway and moved towards the many trees that hid the clearing by the lake.

A few leaves and twigs stuck to her bushy hair as she moved through the bushes that were planted among the trees, that it started to look like a birds nest. Hermione managed to untangle some of the leaves that were caught in her hair as she moved slowly towards the edge of the clearing.

Moving a few steps in to the clearing, she almost ran towards the group of rocks by the lake. Then she realised that she was not alone. Her eyes drifted over to the left side of the lake and she caught the sight of someone standing before it.

His back was to her, and he didn't seem to notice her presence. It did not take a genius to know who he was.

The moonlight, brightly reflecting over the silent waters of the lake, also reflected off his silver blonde hair. It seemed like he had gone swimming in a pool of unicorn blood, the way he looked; radiant as the moon itself glowing in the dark sky. The black cloak he wore started to move to the left as Hermione felt a strong breeze blow around the clearing. She wondered for a moment what she was doing there, observing Draco Malfoy as he stood, whom, she also observed looked so… peaceful, standing there.

Hermione shrugged silently as she forced her feet to turn back around towards the path returning to the palace. It wouldn't do for her to be seen by him now, she had been avoiding him for the past few days now and now was definitely not the time to have herself be insulted, no way was she going to spend the last few minutes of her birthday having a silly argument over something with him.

Hermione took a step towards the path, but she had stepped on a small twig she hadn't seen. She wondered if he heard it. But he answered her question almost instantly.

"Leaving so soon?" he drawled from behind her. Hermione turned around slowly as she looked at him. Surprisingly, she found that he hadn't turned around. He probably wasn't even aware that he was in the presence of a mudblood.

She kept quiet for a moment; she decided that he would have to find that out for himself.

Turning around leisurely to see who had stepped in the middle of his solitude, Draco looked almost surprised to find her standing before him from across the clearing. He quickly regained his indifference as he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Granger," he muttered under his breath.

Hermione barely flinched at the mention of her name. She was used to him addressing her in such a cold manner. She met his hateful look with an equally disgusted expression, hoping to convey her sentiments to him without words.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as if he did not even care to hear her answer. He looked back to the lake.

Hermione scoffed. "I don't think that's any of your business Malfoy," she said coldly. She wanted to leave at that very moment, but it seemed that she was glued to her spot.

Draco looked back at her. He smirked maliciously at her. "So, you've gone down to stalking me now Granger?" he said sardonically.

"I have no intentions of doing such absurd things," said Hermione. Draco looked at her face. It was starting to flush as he knew he was annoying her. How he loved doing so.

"Really now, I'd have to hand it to you Granger," he said with the same irritatingly amused tone. "Although I have to say I'm touched, I know I'm overly handsome, but still," He paused as he observed her lips that tightened almost automatically. "But do you really think that I deserve the attentions of a mudblood?" he finished snidely.

She glared at him; her hair seemed to be sharing her angry sentiments as it flew in almost all directions in the violent gusts of wind that blew around the both of them.

"Sod off Malfoy, Yet if you prefer to amuse yourself with such childish dreams, than I shall now leave you to it," she said stiffly. Hermione took a step backwards and turned to leave when he heard his laugh.

"Oh, I don't think I'll be having such horrible dreams for quite sometime," he started walking towards her direction slowly, closing the distance between them. "Considering of course, that they involve the likes of you," he hissed.

Hermione flinched. She hadn't been aware that he was merely a few meters from her until he continued his statement. She decided to stop herself from talking retorting to his snide remark as she moved towards the path leading away from the clearing.

She had taken one step from him when he had grabbed her arm and forced her to face him. Hermione stumbled towards him as he forcefully pulled her away from the pathway.

As she regained her balance, she looked up and glared at him.

"Oh, did I scare the little mudblood?" he spat malignly refusing to let go of her arm.

Struggling to get free of his strong grip she did not stop sending him death stares.

"I'm not afraid of you Malfoy," she said curtly. "I would merely want to be blessed with the relief of knowing that you are far away from me,"

Not a moment passed and she heard his diabolical laughter searing though her brain.

"Do you hate me that much Granger?" he asked with the same indifference. Her expression changed, she looked seemingly surprised.

It took her a few moments to answer him back. "Hate is a passionate word Malfoy," she said calmly. "Loathe or despise would be more suitable,"

Draco's lips twitched slightly. Hermione wondered if it was because he didn't want to hear what she had just said, or because he felt it was true.

His grip on her arm tightened almost suddenly. Hermione closed her eyes as she tried to ignore the spasms of pain running up and down her arm.

"Like I care, what a mudblood thinks of me…" he said in the coldest tone she had ever heard him use. "You are nothing mudblood, remember that," he hissed.

Hermione's eyes flew open as she heard his hateful remark. Draco saw a flicker of emotion in her eyes as she stared at him. He read it as something more than the pain he had so purposefully caused her as he forced her to stay in her place, practically digging his fingers in to her flesh under her robes. His grip on her loosened slightly.

Her struggle seemed to increase as he tried to pull her arm away from him. Draco looked at her with slight astonishment, realising how much of a fighter she was. He dropped her arm suddenly and she reached for the area he had held which he guessed was increasingly painful.

She continued to glare at him but she did not run away as he expected her to. Unexpectedly she raised a hand, and before he knew it, she struck his cheek with as much force as she could afford.

"I am not nothing! I-I matter, just as every one else!" she practically screamed at him. Draco turned back to her as he chose to ignore the tingling sensations that he felt in the side of his face.

He managed a smirk as he retorted. "And by every one else you mean every other wizard, or every other mudblood of your kind,"

Hermione's face turned a dark shade of red as she raised her hand to strike him once more. But Draco was ready for her this time. He caught her wrist and held it in the same firm manner as he did her arm earlier.

Hermione looked down trying to suppress a sob. There was no way that she would let him have the satisfaction of knowing that he had made her cry.

"I hate that name, I hate it," she said softly, she looked back at him with a slightly helpless look in her eyes. Draco was taken aback by the vulnerability that he saw in her eyes. He asked himself if he should really be causing her this much pain but then thought against it. It didn't matter; she did not matter, he tried to force these words in to his mindset.

"That's not my problem, I'm not the mudblood,"

Hermione pulled her hand away from his grip with all the strength she had in her. She turned towards the path, but it seemed that he had pulled her too far away from there, the forest behind her seemed closer. In a matter of seconds, she found herself running blindly thought the thickets of the forest.

~

Draco was taken aback as she ran towards the forest; he hadn't expected her to react so violently towards his remark. His mind kept racking with visions of her having an accident in the Forbidden Forest, and to his disbelief, they disturbed him.

Before he knew what he was doing, Draco took off after her tracing her the path she had set for herself in the thick bushes that had been crushed as she had torn through the forest.

He caught sight of her almost instantly as she refused to cease running through the forest.

Hermione heard quick paces behind her, following her own. It registered in her mind; he was following her. She forced herself to keep going as she took a turn to the left, seeing a grassy field beyond the many trees.

She led herself to the other side of the schoolyard, recognizing it instantly as the edge of the Quidditch pitch. His paces did not cease as he continued to trail her. She was sure that he would catch up to her very soon but she would not let herself be caught.

She hurried on to the field struggling to reach the doors of the castle before he reached her. But he was closer than she thought as she felt herself being pulled back by the cloak as she reached the first heath of the field. Hermione looked behind her and saw that Draco had gripped the end of her cloak.

Unfortunately, the realization came too late as she tripped and fell on her back, unexpectedly bringing him down on her.

Hermione felt a shock of pain run through her spine as Draco fell on top of her. Draco whose hand was still gripping her cloak found that they were in a most compromising situation. Their legs were entangled with each other's and Draco struggled to get up when he realised that they had fallen a top of a small hill. And before they knew it, the both of them were sent rolling down the hill in grunts of pain.

They reached the bottom of the hill in the same position. Draco was still on top of her and she still had her eyes closed tightly. Hermione managed a slight cry of pain as she found that his weight upon her caused her difficulty in breathing. Draco moved his weight off her as she exhaled in relief.

He looked down at her flushed face stained with tears that flowed down her face. She still had her eyes closed as he raised his hand to brush away the trail of stubborn tears that she hadn't even known to have cried until he touched her cheek with his cold hand. He relished in the pleasure of touching her face once again.

Hermione's eyes shot open as she felt him caress her cheek so tenderly. Her vision focused almost instantly as she gazed at him in wonder. She had never expected him to be capable of ever comforting her. She looked into his eyes and was not surprised to see that soft emotion she had grown to love as they lay there, gazing at each other curiously.

Draco ran his eyes over her gentle features, inattentively memorizing every detail of it in to his mind. The sight of her flawless creamy complexion, which was now tinged with a reddish color, did not fail to make him want to touch it once again. Her hazel eyes, curiously staring at him in speculation possessed the same innocence in them in which they had always appeared. His eyes trailed down to her lips, which were parted slightly revealing white teeth. He noticed almost instantly how much he adorned the sight of her lips. Puffed and reddening, he imagined what it would feel like if he were to—

Before he knew what he was doing, he captured her lips with his, kissing her savagely. His mouth moved so expertly over hers, arousing every feeling in her body and making her tremble with confusion.

Hermione gasped as Draco kissed her, opening her mouth further allowing him further penetration into the gates he had unknowingly desired to unlock for so long. Even surprising herself, Hermione did not do anything to resist. She found herself devoid of reluctance as she kissed him back. She raised her arms to wrap them around him, deepening the kiss even more.

Draco almost broke away from her in shock that she had pulled him closer to her. But he easily regained his senses and continued kissing her. His hands found her hair almost instantly and he tangled his fingers through them gripping her head lightly as he tilted her neck. Thoughts of speculation ran through his mind during that moment, he wondered if he did it merely to pain her mirthlessly or because… because he could not resist her anymore at that moment.

It was like a dream, everything around them had fallen away and there was nothing else, nothing in this world that kept them apart. At that moment, no one existed but them.

He broke the kiss suddenly as he looked away to breathe. Hermione had done the same as she heard her heart pounding in her ears. Her confused mind tried to focus on what just happened. She turned back to him and found that he refused to meet her gaze. He managed to run his fingers out of her dishevelled hair effortlessly as he seemed bent on grasping a fragment of self-control he could usually regain easily.

Out of coincidence, Draco had felt soft drops of water falling upon his cloak while he lay in that position above her. It was starting to rain.

Hermione seemed to have observed this as well as she looked up at the sky as drops of rain started pouring out from the dark clouds above them.

Draco stood up as he realised that his cloak was becoming rather wet.

Hermione began to sit up when she realised that the pain in her back had barely gone away. She forced herself to stand up in an attempt to ignore the pain. Unexpectedly he extended his hand towards her direction. She stared at it for a moment before taking it and finally standing up.

Draco did not even bother to look at her as she muttered a brisk thank you. He turned away from her wholly expecting her to continue her run to the castle. Only this time, he would not care to stop her.

But she did not, Hermione stood there, looking at him as the rain fell upon them heavily. She saw him run his fingers through his drenched hair in an attempt to squeeze out the water that it held.

She found the gesture somewhat … attractive.

He turned around and looked at her, remaining rather indifferent.

He observed her looking at him in confusion, her hair was dripping wet and it hung loosely about her face, pulled down by the weight it had so inevitably carried. She had her hands on her arms as in an effort to warm herself from the cold rain. He wondered how she could stay here and stand around him now after what he had done.

Hermione approached him curiously and to his surprise, she reached up and brushed away a dripping lock of his blonde hair that had fallen over his eyes.

Draco looked at her intently, watching her actions closely. Before he knew it, his hands found their way around her slender waist that was emphasised by the damp clothe sticking to her figure closely. He pulled her against him firmly and she found herself unable to resist his embrace. A hand automatically found its way to his chest and started moving against it.

He relinquished the pleasure of having her against him as if their bodies fit perfectly together.

Hermione sighed as she melted into his embrace. Her senses were running wild and she could not think of anything less at that moment, but he was here, holding her firmly against him and making her feel like tomorrow did not matter anymore. She was sure that her knees would never support her if he didn't hold her up.

But what was she doing? She was enjoying this; she knew she was. Her heart had never beaten this fast in her entire life. The sweet sensations that run up her spine were almost too much for her senses to bear.

It was wrong, thought it felt right. It took everything in her to pull away from his embrace.

Draco looked at her as she slowly backed away. He studied her mildly shocked expression as she looked at him. A faint blush was evident in her cheeks as he could see through the rain. There was a beauty in her that he had always known, a delicate simple beauty that could never be seen in any one else. How he pitied Potter and Weasley now, for not noticing it even in the slightest. Draco had had always thought that she was undeserving of that, that subtle beauty only she possessed, but now he was beginning to doubt that thought. He began to doubt everything at that moment, as he realised that all he could think about was holding her again.

She looked up and met his gaze with her own, looking in the murky depths the two silver pools of mystery, wanting nothing more to do but to understand the boy that stood so close before him then. Without knowing it, she was fascinated by him. She had never known anyone who bore so much mysteriousness than him. Nor had she ever seen anyone who had been bequeathed with such delicate angel fallen beauty that was so unique and godlike. She admitted at that moment that Lavender and Parvati were actually right about Malfoy when they said 'he *is* a git, but a hot one at that,'

Draco looked away from her.

"Just go," he whispered in a voice barely audible in the rain; he never sounded so mild in his life.

Hermione closed her eyes. She took a step backwards and proceeded to turn away, not trusting herself anymore to follow her instincts. She ran across the wet grassy field careful not to slip. She continued blindly running through the rain until she caught sight of the castle.

Draco looked down on to the murky meadow that began to become muddy as the rainfall increased. He turned away from the sight of Hermione running towards the castle. Refusing to admit to a sense of loss that he so painfully felt as she fled.

~~*

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air.
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all.
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.

~Solitude

-Ella Wheeler Wilcox