a/n: ...ok i dont suck. i dont. so the story should be ok...

So, let go,let go
Jump in
Oh well, what you waiting for?
It's all right
'Cause there's beauty in the breakdown

- Let Go by Frou Frou

"Draco, you know how...unique...she is," Narcissa pushed on her 19 year old son. Dinner time in the Malfoy Manor, Narcissa was trying to get her son to attend a ball at the Parkinson Manor. Of course, Draco refused. He and Pansy Parkinson weren't that civil to each other in their final year at Hogwarts. Since no apologies were made, they still were not civil.

"Mother, she's the devil," Draco said to Narcissaas he took a sip of his drink. Thinking of being of Pansy made Draco think of Hermione. This was the first time he had thought about her in a year. All of last year he thought of her. Though when he turned 18 the thoughts of her drifted away to the back of his mind.

Narcissa picked up her wine glass and looked at her son. "You know she's not the devil, Draco," she said. She took a sip of her deep red wine and said, "She's a demon." Narcissa and Draco laughed together. These "bonding" moments occurred rarely. "She's the demon who wears Prada," pressed Narcissa. She didn't have a sweet taste for Pansy. She didn't have a sweet taste for anyone except for her son. Well she couldn't even count him as a sweet spot. He was pretty much the only thing she had left.

"I just don't want to go. Not to the Parkinson Manor no matter," Draco said. He rolled his eyes and held his fork and his knife in his hands. His mother sat silent, drinking her wine and eating her food. At the point where the silence became so unbearable, Draco finally says, "When should I be ready?"

Narcissa put a triumphant smirk on her face. "The ball is next weekend. Be ready by then." When her glass was empty, refilled, then emptied again, she gave her dinner a rest and left. Draco sat at the empty table by himself. He surely did not want to attend a Parkinson ball. He counted the Parkinsons' to be vile creatures. Not to mention ugly. He suddenly remembered Pansy's pug-like face. He shuddered at the thought.

Although he thought he had no choice. He didn't know how his mother did it, but whatever she did made him do whatever she wanted even if he didn't want to. He sighed and thought. A week? One week until I see that thing, Pansy. Draco wondered the reason of throwing a ball for Pansy. She was already of age. Umm...what else is there? he pondered. He sighed and stood from the table. He went up the stairs from the ground floor to the second floor. He walked to the east side of the large manor. He passed the nursery bedroom and reached his bedroom.

He dropped himself on his bed and stared at the silver ceiling. At each emerald serpent within each tile. For some reason, his mind drifted to the past. Back to his Hermione days. He closed his eyes and remembered how it used to be.

Draco snuck behind Hermione as she was about to jump into the lake on a dare. He looked back at the group of people playing 'Truth or Dare'. He quickly picked her up and threw her inside the lake and went along with her. Under the water was pitch black but Hermione and Draco found each other in the water and shared a kiss they had never shared before. Their first kiss together. Then they surfaced above the water. Everyone saw the state they were in. The two parted and smiled. Being in only her bra and underwear, Hermione was very embarrassed and cold. Draco had carried her out of the water and gave her back her clothes.

She walked away to change back into her clothes and when she returned to the group, her face was bright red. "Well Granger, you are quite the dare devil," Blaise Zabini commented. Hermione shot a glare at him. "Three cheers for the mudblood," Blaise said sarcastically.

Draco chuckled at the memory. He used to remember these kind of memories vividly. Now everything seemed blurry. He hadn't realized exactly how long it had been since he and Hermione had last spoken. He did know it was too long. He wanted to write her a letter right then and there but he didn't know what to say. He had an idea of what he wanted to say back then, but saying those things now wouldn't seem right. Calling her 'his love' might tick her off for the letter being so late.

He groaned and rubbed his head. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his slacks. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled up the quilt on his bed. His room was cold, he had always needed a quilt. He rested his head on his pillow and the blurry picture of Hermione entered his mind. It was like he forgot how she looked like. He didn't want that. Before he drifted to sleep, he attempted to clear up the blurry picture. Brown, really curly hair. Brown eyes, like chocolate. Soft, milky skin. He cursed under his breath. Nothing came to mind to clear up the picture.

He grabbed one of the many pillows on his bed, covered his face, and screamed into it. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, damnit, asshole, shit, fuck!" he cried into the pillow. He gave the pillow one more good scream and took off the pillow. He turned on his bed and closed his eyes once again. "Damnit...Granger..." he mumbled before falling asleep.

a/n: i kno my chapters r really short but they lengthen up. promise! hope u like. r&r. no flames!