Disclaimer: It all belongs to Jo.

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving!!

Hermione sighed heavily, staring up at the curtains around her four-poster. She went through the day in her head, over and over, trying to figure out where exactly things had gotten so strange. Breakfast, normal. Classes, normal. Lunch, normal, beside from the atypical menu of grilled cheese (not that she was complaining). She had spent her evening studying in the Gryffindor Common Room and since the twins had left it was always fairly normal. Hermione smiled at the thought of the twins. She allowed herself to remember the devious smiles on their faces, the chuckle waiting to escape from their lips. Then she thought about how strange it still felt to see George alone.

The feelings of loss she had managed to escape earlier in the day came back in full force and her breath caught in her throat. She tried to distract her mind, thinking back to dinner. Hermione couldn't remember anything strange until her collision with Draco in the corridor. She was convinced someone had put something in her drink or charmed her in some way. Her views towards Draco were becoming completely skewed. She found a curiosity within herself that she never expected. A curiosity to talk to him, to know him.

Harry thought he was fine, she supposed. They hadn't been rude to each other in the slightest, that Hermione knew of, and they seem fairly amicable around one another. Though compared to how they were before the war, it had a lot of room to improve. Ron was still convinced he was evil. Then again, Ron was always extremely stubborn. Hermione had to admit; just today she had said he would never change. But now, something told her otherwise. Something was pulling her toward him. Something she didn't understand in the slightest.

Draco sat in the library for nearly an hour after Hermione had left, with a dazed look on his face. His mind was racing through any plan he could think of to help Hermione see that he was different, and how very much he had come to care. His schemes were frequently interrupted by his anticipations of her expressions and reactions to each. Draco savored every one of her expressions that he could recreate in his mind. He thought of nothing else for the past few weeks. His desire for her had only grown stronger with the time and him instincts were urging things to move faster. He wanted her. Badly.

With a sigh he finally resigned to the one thing he didn't want to have to do. He come to the conclusion that he would have to write his mother and inform her that he had found his mate, but had absolutely no idea how to get closer to her. Draco knew that as soon as she received it, she would be overjoyed and start planning the wedding, the schedule of expected grandchildren, every detail down to the undergarments Hermione would have for the wedding.

He hung his head, unable to think of any other option than to go to the source, someone who would know what it felt like every step of the way. Both of his parents would have important advice for him, and Hermione when the time came…If he could win her over. He flinched at the thought of not being able to gain her favor and help her learn to love him. If she refused him, his life would be miserable, unbearable. Draco was sure the pain from her rejection alone would end him.

He remembered the way his name sounded on her lips. It sent shivers through him, desire to every cell of his body, his pulse quickened, throat tightened and hands went clammy. Draco could only imagine how it would feel to hold her, kiss her, if just thinking about her brought him so many pleasurable reactions. Hermione was his only thought. He dreamed of her nightly, he thought of her constantly, he watched for her always, Draco could feel his affections growing.

What could have possibly caused such a change in just one day? That morning, he had hated her for being the one. He had hated the way he couldn't resist anything about her. And now? Now he relished in it. Draco couldn't even remember when his feelings had changed so dramatically. His horrid mood earlier at dinner had led him to follow her, the veela in him begging him not to go through with the violent plans he had for her.

Then he figured it out with a start, halfway to the Owlery, stopping short. When their hands touched, when he had made physically contact with her it was like every ounce of anger and hatred he had for her ran from every pore in his body, replaced with nothing but desire and love.

Three weeks later, the castle was nearly deserted. Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny had decided to stay for the holiday, as it would be the last one they could all share. Draco stayed because Hermione did. He couldn't bear to be that far from her, knowing she was safe and in the castle was one of the only things that pacified him. Draco had taken to staying in his room, to himself, or being out at the library, the lake, but always alone.

Anyone's company just seemed to aggravate him, he learned quickly it was better to avoid his friends and allow his mind, and senses, to focus on Hermione. While it was tortuous to smell her, hear her, and see her without being able to talk to her or touch her, knowing that she was near calmed him greatly.

Since the incident in the library, she had tried to avoid him as best she could. Hermione was extremely nervous that someone had charmed her and was hoping desperately the next time she was forced to talk to him, it would have worn off. She was also getting extremely annoyed that she couldn't even stand the touch of any of her other friends. Ron had tried to hug her when she got too cold near the lake and it made her feel incredibly sick.

"Hermione?" Harry looked at her worriedly. "Are you alright?"

She continued to stare into the fire, feeling completely empty despite all the holiday cheer buzzing through the common room. "Fine." She spoke quietly, not breaking her blank gaze at the dancing flames.

"You really haven't been yourself lately you know." He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Hermione flinched away and gasped, a wave of nausea flowing through her. "Maybe you should go get some air." Harry suggested.

"Yeah." Hermione was unfocused, standing and heading to her room to get her warm cloak. "That sounds good actually. A walk might help me clear my mind."

"I think a walk is a fabulous idea." Harry smiled at her warmly. He truly loved her like a sister, and wanted nothing but her to be happy.

Hermione walked aimlessly around the grounds, paying a Christmas visit to Dumbledore's tomb, and found herself next to a large tree by the lake. She sighed, gazing up at the vast dark blue sky and smiling at the stars. "What is wrong with me?" She felt so defeated, she couldn't help but cry.

"Nothing." Hermione turned, startled and wiped violently at her eyes.

"Did you follow me?" Draco chuckled softly at her anger, smiling at his feet.

"Yes." He looked up at her, gauging her expression. Still angry. "I couldn't help it."

"What?" Hermione was seething, her peaceful, private moment interrupted by the one thing she was trying to avoid.

"You looked lonely. I thought I'd offer some company." His expression was hopeful, but guarded. Hermione had never seen him so unsure, or staring at his feet so much before. Her anger melted away and she felt the familiar feeling of longing replace it. It made her so confused, she wanted to cry again.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"Doing what?"

"Why can't you just leave me alone? Tell whoever is putting this stupid charm on me to stop it." Her voice wavering, tears threatening. "I can't stand feeling like I can't be away from you anymore." Hermione gave in and sobbed.

Draco felt his heart break and rushed to hold her. She gasped when his arms wrapped protectively around her. He sighed, relieved and content when her arms snaked around his waist and pulled his comforting presence closer against her. Even through their thick winter cloaks, she could feel the heat radiating from him and wanted nothing but to bury herself deeper into it. Draco was in pure ecstasy. Having her in his arms and knowing she wanted him there made his heart swell to ten times its size.

Her sobs slowed down, then stopped altogether, but she still hadn't pulled away from him. Hermione was trying to decide if he had always smelled this good, or if his arms looked as strong as they felt. "Thank you." She mumbled into his dark cloak before pulling away reluctantly.

Draco let his hands slip from her shoulders, and felt instantly freezing. "You're welcome Hermione."

She sighed heavily. "Would you please tell me what's going on Draco? Why do I feel this way about you? So suddenly." Hermione looked at her shoes. "What have you done to me?"

He tried to speak, faltered, and opened his mouth again. "It's complicated." She looked skeptically and frustrated at him. "I haven't charmed you, and as far as I know, no one else has either."

"Then what's going on?"

"I…I'm not like you."

"Oh." She was angry again. "Great time to bring up how elite your pureblood is!"

"Hermione." Draco grabbed her shoulders, trying to calm her. "That's not what I meant. I mean…I'm not like other wizards. I-" He couldn't find the words; he wanted to tell her everything. The words just got stuck in his throat. "I'm…I'm in love with you."