[a/n: I hate wikipedia. For the purposes of my writing, it's wrong about what a Morning Star looks like. Ball, chain, stick,mmmkay?]

Draco Malfoy lay on his bed, his writing surface floating, balanced above him, as he stared at it, biting his quill. At last, he began to write.

When I cast sleep's sand out of my eyes,

As the false dawn fades,

My eyes look past the fading moon,

and I think of your fierce grin,

My morning star.

When the world's dipped in despair,

When I'm curled tight in a pit of misery,

When even the moor is cast in shadow,

My eyes lift skyward, and I see you glinting there

My Evening Star.

A Morning star is a fierce and terrible thing,

As lief to hurt the wielder as the enemy.

This I know, for this I've seen -

Malfoy smirked, pausing a moment, thinking, that's as subtle a way as I've got to refer to Potter and Weasel. And I've seen her round on them, with more than sparks in her eyes. Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, but I'm pretty certain everyone knows a shecat in righteous fury - and, more importantly, when to run far far away.

Your eyes sparking with banked fire

I sometimes wonder, what you'd look like

If I could sometime see your fire blaze

for me.

A fool's thought, is it not?

Draco Malfoy sent the note off with nary a thought, his face its usual mask, hiding the soft smile that lit a dim corner of his heart.

Hermione Granger grabbed the note at dinner, stuffing it quickly in her book. Five days? She thought incredulously, Isn't that a bit much for a jape?

It seemed moments later when Hermione was in her dorm room, and Lavender was whining to read the note, her shrill voice grating on Hermione's last nerve. Hermione passed it over, and in short order Padma and Parvati were reading it as well. Padma padded over to Hermione, throwing herself on Hermione's bed, and saying with a smile, "It's gotta be a Ravenclaw."

"How do you figure?"

"Only a Ravenclaw would make a pun on the Morning Star!"

Hermione laughed at the indignation in Padma's voice. "What, you think we Gryffindor's are incapable of a sense of humor?" her tone was of mock offense.

"Fred and George couldn't do a pun if their life depended on it!"

Hermione laughed.

Padma looked suddenly serious, "If these notes are from Michael Connor, I will hate you for it."

"But I've done nothing to get these notes!"

Padma cracked a smile, her eyes still serious, "All the more reason to hate you."

"But that doesn't make any sense at all!"

"Oh, I agree, and I'll know I'm being silly. But I'll still hate you... and be your friend." Padma gave a warm and genuine smile, and the two of them were hugging quite suddenly. Hermione was distantly aware of the other two girls nattering on about how "romantic" the notes were, shaking her head slightly.

Padma pulled back, and asked with a frown, "Why, what's wrong?"

With a trace of a pout, Hermione said crossly, "Your sister and her best friend keep on thinking this is romantic... and that's the thing, it's not! It's not someone who's dreaming about someone who ... isn't me!"

"Let them have their dreams and their fun," Padma said, "It's better that than them harassing me to do something about Michael."

Hermione looked at Padma, who responded to the silent question, "I'm not brave like you Gryffindors, alright?"

Hermione smiled, and it was alright.

[a/n: because I really don't feel like writing 126 poems, they'll only be coming out on weekdays. Hope you enjoyed this one, it was the very devil to write.

Please, read and review.

Who's enjoying the friendship with Padma? Who hates it? Please, review and let me know.]