Forbidden Love
She starred across the room. There he was with his characteristic smirk. His white-blond hair looked inviting. She so wanted to run her fingers through it. His pale face glistened with sweat as he worked on the incredibly difficult potion Professor Slughorn told them to do. His grey eyes were frantically searching the contents of Advanced Potion Making for help. She saw his eyes light up as he found the passage he was looking for. His smirk grew wider as he added the necessary ingredient. He leaned back and let his potion simmer.
Suddenly he stiffened. He looked wary. He turned his head in her direction. Quickly she shifted her gaze back to her potion. Stupid, she thought angrily. Never drift off in class like that.
Hermione Granger was a good student. Check that. A great student. She never let her mind wander, even in those dull classes like History of Magic. Many people classified her as "the best witch in her year." Now, this was a bit much in her opinion. She just did what she needed to do to keep her grades up and her mind sharp.
"Hermione?"
"Hmm…?"
"Professor Slughorn just said to pack up," said a red-headed spotted boy. "Did you drift off?"
"Please, Ron. You know I never drift off," said Hermione rather guiltily. She had been drifting off. It had been happening increasingly, and she had no idea why.
Back at the common room, Ron pulled out a roll of parchment to start working on Snape's essay on the best way to tackle inferi. He pulled out his book and turned to a random page and started reading.
"Hermione, help me!" moaned Ron.
"You could read the correct page for a start," Hermione said in a dignified manner.
"Or, you could help me," said Ron.
"All right. Fine."
He sat in the dank, dark common room trying to forget what he thought he saw by doing Snape's essay. It wasn't working. His mind kept wandering back to the way she blushed and turned away. He gave up on the essay and starred into the fire. She had definitely been looking at him. That much was certain. But why was she looking at him? He could remember looking at her. He loved the way her brown, bushy hair always got in her way. She would take a hand and pull it out of the way. He loved her brown eyes. They were so deep that he could almost get lost in them. Why was she looking at me? he thought fiercely.
Draco Malfoy was a good student. Not great. But good. He studied and did well in almost everything. His life wasn't absorbed by studying though. He was a noble pure-blood. He didn't associate with anything less. He hated all muggle-borns on principle. His father always told him, "Son, don't be caught in the company of anyone beneath you. If you want to be great, you have to act great." Those were words to live by in Draco's opinion.
"Draco?"
"What?"
"You're starring into space, again," said Pansy pouting.
"I'm allowed to stare into space if I like."
"But I wanted to tell you—"
"I need some fresh air," said Draco shortly, and he walked hastily from the room.
"Is that enough help for you, Ron?" asked Hermione, slightly annoyed.
"Yes, thanks. I should get on fine on my own now."
"Good. Because I've got to go and send a letter to Viktor."
"Viky, again?" spat Ron.
"Yes," Hermione sighed. "And his name's not Viky. It's Viktor," she added as she climbed out of the portrait hole.
Hermione loved the owlry. She loved it, even though it smelled like owl droppings and long dead mice. She coaxed a nice looking barn owl down from the rafters. It stood completely still while she tied the letter to its leg. She turned to leave, but couldn't. The last person she expected to see was blocking the door.
She was blushing again. He couldn't believe it. He only came up here to send a quick note to his mother wishing her a happy birthday. He figured the owlry would be empty. Draco felt a small flush come into his face as well. No! he thought bitterly. Not now!
The pair stood stock still. Neither one knew exactly what to do. They each waited for the other to make the first move. Draco took the first bullet.
"Granger," he said, trying his best to sound intimidating, but failing.
"Malfoy," said Hermione, trying to sound uncaring, but also failing. "What are you doing here?"
"Same as you I suppose," said Malfoy surreptitiously. "Honestly, are you really the best in our year?"
Hermione was taken aback. "Do you really think I'm the best in the year?"
"Well," said Draco carefully. "I suppose so, yeah. You have the best grades, and you're smart," he added. He was starting to really blush. This made her blush even more fiercely.
"Why are we always so mean to each other? What's the point?" asked Hermione, dropping the charade they had been playing for years. "Do you honestly hate me that much?"
Draco dropped protective shell. "No, I don't hate you. But you can't tell anyone. I'm supposed to hate all muggle-borns. I can't be seen associating with one."
"Why? Is that what your father told you?"
"Actually, yes. He was I'm not to hang around people beneath me."
"Beneath you!" Hermione said, shocked.
"My father's words, I swear! I don't think that you're beneath me. I, actually, kind of like you." Draco looked at the floor without actually seeing it. He had said the words he wanted to say for a long time.
"Draco?"
He looked up. Hermione was really close to him. She was so close to him, that he could feel her breath.
"Hermione?"
He leaned toward her. To his surprise she started leaning towards him. Their lips met. A surge of energy ran through them both. Draco felt as if he was flying without the help of a broomstick. Hermione felt as if she could stay in that position, in Draco's arms, her lips touching his, forever.
The moment ended all too soon. They broke apart. Hermione looked into Draco's grey eyes to find them looking back into her brown ones. His eyes looked sad. Instantly, Hermione knew what was coming. Her face fell. She backed away and dropped her gaze to the skeleton littered floor.
"Hermione, it would never work."
"Yes," she said sadly. "I know. I just hoped, but, no, I guess not."
"I wish…if there is anything I can do," Draco said pleading.
"There's not," said Hermione, her eyes of tears. She ran past him and out of the olwry as her tears came spilling over the edge. Draco heard a sob as she disappeared from view.
Draco coaxed his eagle owl to his arm. The owl took the letter in his beak and then took off into the sunset. Draco walked to the owlry window. He leaned against it, watching his owl. His eyes were brimming with tears.
-------------------------------------
A/N: I just felt like writing something and this is the result. A Draco/Hermione. 'Cause we don't have enough of those stories around. What do you think?
