:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Cry Me Tears of Fire

By Pensive Puddles

:-:-:-:-:-:-:

I would like to say that love sprang upon both Hermione and Draco so rapidly that they scarce knew when it happened or how. I would like to say that they spent many nights cuddling on the couch, enjoying the silence they created, watching the fire glow. I would like to say that Draco became a new man, that Hermione expressed something in her that made her friends curious of the change. But sadly, I cannot; for those stories rarely happen. Well, not immediately anyway.

Draco awoke the next morning, pressed against the back of the couch, his arm resting on the cold part of the cushion, vacant from the feminine body that had previously lied on it. He stretched, eyes still heavy with sleep and body stiff from being squeezed between the soft padding and Hermione. He looked around for her, but didn't see or hear her presence. His heart fell slightly. He had hoped that he would wake up with her next to him again, just like on the last day of winter break. He had hoped he would lace fingers with her again, and feel her breathe into his chest, and this time he would be the one who asked how she was doing and say that he wasn't sure if he was supposed to leave or what. And she would be the one who would admit the truth and say that she was grateful for his presence and glad that he had stayed.

And ask to do it again that night as well…

But he ignored that last thought that flew through his head. Getting off the couch and focusing on the day, he got ready for school. Nothing had happened, that's all he had to think: nothing had happened between them.

Oh, how he wished something would.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:

"End of this week."

"What?" Draco questioned, startled from his thoughts.

"You wanted to know when, and I just told you. End of this week," Blaise replied, buttering a roll. He observed Draco, watching his every move. "Are you ok? You've been acting odd lately."

"What? Oh, I just got into a little row with Pansy yesterday, that's all. Feel bad," Draco replied off-handedly, making it sound as if the incident with Pansy was as irritating as being unable to complete an arithmetic problem. Blaise gripped the butter knife all the harder. What did she see in him?

Draco's flickering eyes caught Blaise's attention. The blond Slytherin lowered his eyes, going back to playing with his food. Blaise tried to see who his friend was looking at, but with the amount of people in the Great Hall, it could have been anyone. "Draco, who were –"

"Hey baby," Pansy cooed, sitting on his other side, leaning in and kissing Draco on the cheek. Draco merely turned his head slightly, receiving the affection. He was so lost in his thoughts that Blaise knew that if Goyle had been the one kissing him, he wouldn't have noticed the difference. Blaise wasn't the only one who noticed the oblivious state Draco was in.

However, his two friends let it go and continued on with breakfast, talking about unimportant things that Draco didn't bother listening to. He didn't eat; he wasn't hungry. He was so bewildered by his thoughts that he couldn't focus on anything. He hadn't even realized he had taken out his lighter to do little fire tricks until Pansy spilt water on his sleeve.

"What the hell?" he said, too dazed to be angry.

"Damn it, Draco. You need to be more careful. You just lit your sleeve on fire!" Pansy hissed, taking her wand out and drying the spot on his arm. She looked up at him, waiting for a reaction, waiting to see a trace of her lover. All he said was, "Oh."

Blaise watched as Pansy's eyes betrayed her crestfallen heart. He watched as her movements became stiffer. He watched as she composed herself. He listened to her words that became harder, trying to keep a mere tremor from betraying how she truly felt. "You've found another girl, haven't you?" she whispered.

"What?" said Draco, now listening. Her eyes continued to betray her sorrow.

"You've found another girl. Don't lie to me, Draco," she said hard but quietly, not wanting to cause a scene, "You're always like this when you've found a girl you're interested in. You become distant and you don't hear anything that goes on around you. Is that why you pushed me away last night?"

Blaise heard it then, in that last comment: the slight tremor, so small that no one would have noticed if they hadn't been paying attention. His heart broke like hers. This is how I feel, Pansy, just like this…

"I like her?" he repeated, dazed, his eyes a whirlwind of thoughts, his mind computing something different to what was being said. Blaise couldn't understand why he was acting like this. Draco almost always knew. This was the first time that a girl had caught him by surprise in his affections.

"Who is it, Draco?" Pansy asked quietly, watching his eyes, waiting for him to look at the girl who had taken him from her.

"Who's who? There's no one, Pansy," Draco said after a pause, returning to his drink and looking down at the table.

"Then kiss me," she said. Both Blaise and Draco stared at her.

Draco titled his head, almost grinning, not sure if he had heard correctly. "What?"

"You heard me: kiss me," she challenged.

"You want me to kiss you? What difference does that make?" he questioned, avoiding the action.

"Everything," she said, eyes still focused hard on Draco, denying the urge to glance at Blaise.

Draco looked at her, studying her face, her eyes. He could kiss her. He had kissed her nonchalantly a thousand times before. He had slept with her just because she had asked. What did one little kiss matter? And as he leaned in, he found himself stopping.

Somehow, it did matter. He couldn't kiss Pansy, not in front of her. He couldn't.

"No. Not this time," he said, pulling away, hands clenched on the table.

"Just like always. You can never kiss me when you have another girl," she said darkly, almost bitterly.

"And what does it matter if I like someone else? It's not as if you haven't done the same to me. Stop acting as if I'm cheating on you. We're not even together," he hissed, getting to his feet and storming out of the hall. Pansy was left sitting at the table, eyes glassy with tears. Surrounding Slytherins slid a cheeky glance at her, whispering to each other about the brawl the Slytherin couple had had.

"Poor Princess Pansy, couldn't keep her screws in order and now has lost the only one worth keeping," one of the girls a couple seats away taunted cruelly.

"You shouldn't get into the affairs of others, slut. For all you know, you're boyfriend might suddenly receive an anonymous tip that his girlfriend got knocked up by his best friend," Pansy remarked icily, her eyes glaring darkly. The girl paled drastically as her boyfriend sitting next to her let go of her hand and gave her an appalled look, so filled with pain and anger that Pansy might have felt a twinge of pity at her words. Nonetheless, Pansy smirked as she watched the slut's boyfriend, jaw clenching, stand to his feet and follow Draco's path.

"Pansy!" Blaise warned under his breath. He grabbed her by her elbow and lifted her up. He escorted her out of the Great Hall, giving a sharp look to the other remaining Slytherins to shut up. It wasn't until they were safely in Slytherin corridors that he spoke to her again. "Why can't you control yourself? In front of the whole Slytherin table, Pansy? Merlin!"

"Control myself? The whore needs to know when to keep her mouth shut!"

"Why not practice what you preach, eh?"

Pansy slapped him hard across the face. She breathed heavily, tears trickling down the side of her face. A dark moment passed before Blaise looked at her again, the left side of his face a blazing bright red with finger outlines. "I'm sorry, Pansy. I didn't mean – "

"You meant every word," she said between clenched teeth. "Don't apologize for something you're not sorry for."

"That's not true – "

"Liar! Shut up, just shut up!" Pansy screamed, tears blurring her vision. She swung her hands out, beating him on the chest. "Stop lying! I know how you feel. I know that you hate seeing me crumble before him. I know you hate how I love him so much. But you just don't understand. I love him, Blaise, and I can't stop. And when I see him fall in love with another girl instead of me…Merlin, what's wrong with me? Why does he never fall in love with me?"

His strong hands had clasped her wrists to stop her hits and he held her as she struggled against him, trying to release her pent up anger, frustration, heartache, until she collapsed against his chest, crying pathetically into his shirt. He didn't say anything; he knew she didn't want to hear it; he knew it would only make her feel worse. Instead, he held her closer, brushing her hair with his hand, cooing into her ear to relax her.

The bell rang and Pansy quickly pulled away, trying to fix her smeared mascara. Taking out her wand, she muttered a spell and Blaise watched as her red, puffy eyes cleared. She wiped her nose and gave him a small little smile. "I'm sorry. I don't mean – "

"Pansy," he said gently, taking her hand and squeezed it. She smiled and gave him a small hug. He was the perfect guy – just not for her.

As the students began to shuffle quickly down the halls, Blaise gripped Pansy's hand a little harder and they moved against the tide. He didn't let her go until they reached their class and he had escorted her to her seat. Giving her hand another little squeeze, he left her side and went to his own assigned seat, his mind reeling with thoughts of Pansy. He knew what he was to her: he was the knight and shinning armor to her fairytale. Only, he wasn't the right knight under all the armor.

Fairytales suck, he thought as he sighed heavily, opening his textbook after taking one last glance at his composed Pansy who was slipping a note to her partner. The teacher called for attention and Blaise tried to keep his mind off his crush.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Draco spent the rest of the morning completely bewildered by what was said at the breakfast table. He liked Hermione? Could that really be an explanation to all that he was feeling towards her? Was that the reason why his chest burned with such hatred when he saw Tony assaulting her? Was that why he wanted to cut the pervert's balls off anyway -- just because he had touched her, had tried to kiss her? Was that way he burned with such horrible jealously whenever he saw another guy with her? Was that why he yearned to have her next to him, to feel her breathe into him?

But what type of "like" was this? Was this the momentary fascination he had had with previous girls who he had quickly slept with and had lost interest with? Something inside told him that this wasn't like the others. This time…this time he wanted an actual relationship with her.

But why? She wasn't beautiful. No, he had won the hearts of many who could easily have been models. He knew from plenty of interaction with women that Hermione wasn't externally beautiful. She was pretty, sure, but she wasn't beautiful. But when you knew who she was, when you listened to her talk, sentences with such intelligence it was almost unnerving...there was such attraction in that. There are so many things that Draco found in her that were so appealing that I've stated countless of times before that need not be stated again.

He smirked. Well…if he did like her, then that certainly would explain why he found her so intoxicating. But he couldn't. His affiliation with the Dark Lord… what if they found out? What if the Dark Lord had invaded his mind right now and had discovered his secret passion? No, he couldn't let him have her. He wouldn't let Hermione end up like his dream. The mere idea of her in that situation…he knew what they did to women in the circle. He had had to watch one initiation…he had thrown up later. Hermione being one of those unfortunate women? His stomach turned at the thought.

He skipped lunch and went into his room. No, he couldn't tell her. He couldn't tell her he liked her. He couldn't initiate anything. But did she like him? Draco sure as hell wasn't going to go out of his comfort zone to tell her he liked her. He wasn't even supposed to like her anyway! She stood for everything he was supposed to destroy in a few months. How had this happened? How?

He upturned drawers, shelves, boxes and floorboards until he found what he needed: cigarettes. Always place spares somewhere in case of emergencies, he quoted to himself He fumbled for his lighter as the cigarette dangled from his bottom lip. "Damn it, light!" he hissed as he flicked it. It was dead. Angry, he threw the lighter across the room, giving an aggravated yell at the same time as it smashed into the wall. "Merlin, calm down, Draco, before you burst into flames again," he mumbled to himself, before snorting at the thought.

This was pathetic. He was pathetic. And for a moment, he was incredibly upset with Hermione Granger for doing this to him. Angry for her doing this to him and not knowing that she was causing it. His eye caught a glittery package resting on his desk dresser. Bright green with a red bow tied around it, he found himself drawn towards it. Who could it be from? How had he not noticed it before?

Picking it up off the table and unwrapping it, he opened up the box and found a beautiful silver lighter inside. There was a folded note inside the box:

Draco,

I saw this and I thought of you. Happy Christmas!

Hermione

Taking the lighter and experimenting with it, Draco grinned. Reaching for the cigarettes again, he chuckled, laughing at the irony. If only she knew…she probably thought he'd use it only for his Dark Magic. He took a deep breath, head resting on his bed, fingering the lighter. He looked at it, playing with it. She thought of him…did it mean that she liked him?

His mind went through all the things that had happened between them. She had been the one to start the friendship between them. She had been the one who had confined in him with her dark secrets. She had been the one who had tempted him to kiss her under the fireworks. She had been the one who had pulled him into the couch with her last night. Did she like him in that way? He didn't want to be sorely mistaken.

He didn't know how long he laid on his bed. All he knew was that when he looked at his ashtray, he found four filters crushed into a sea of ashes. He groaned, laying an arm across his eyes. Well, that's just great…Damn you, Hermione…

He glanced at his clock and swore under his breath. Throwing the box of cigarettes into a drawer and tucking the lighter into his pocket, he grabbed his bag filled with his books and wand and left his room, shocked at the fresh scent of the Common Room compared to his smoky room. He bumped into Hermione at the doorway as she was coming in. Colliding heads, the both gave a synchronized yelp and a synchronized motion of rubbing their heads.

"So there you are. I didn't see you at lunch – " she remarked casually as she continued to go into the room.

He turned and looked at her, "You looked for me, did you, Granger?"

"Well, I…" she started, face flushing lightly. She cleared her throat and tried to find something else to talk about, "Ahem, thanks for staying with me last night. Sorry I was so emotional; I just…I don't know…flustered with everything that's been going on, I guess."

"You were there for me that one time. Now we're even," he said after a pause. And while his words said that it was nothing more than to compensate for his own dilemma back at the end of the winter, his eyes and movements betrayed him and revealed that he didn't mind at all. She blushed again, trying to push aside the thoughts in her head that swarmed with the idea of him pressed against her, his body warming her cold one. Something caught her nose. She paused and looked at him, a calculating look on her face, "Have you been smoking, Draco?"

"What?" he said, turning his face away from hers so she wouldn't smell the trace of nicotine in his breath. "No – what the hell, Hermione?!"

Hermione had grabbed his face and had pulled it towards hers. She was so close that he licked his lips unconsciously, taking a breath. She let out a small "Hm," and took a step away, giving him a sad look. "You have been smoking. I can smell it."

He looked at her, unable to answer.

"You can't smoke, Draco," she said, almost urgently.

"Why do you care?" he asked curiously.

"I just do," she said quietly while turning and walking towards the couch. He stood at the doorway in silent surprise. She cared about him, well, at least about him smoking. Nonetheless, her simple words broke through the doubt in his heart and he relaxed a little. It gave him a small sliver of hope. He felt slightly light-headed from all the cigarettes. It had been so long since he had chained smoked. He took one last look at her lying on the couch, a book propped in her hand and her eyes scanning the pages, before he turned and left with a smile on his face.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Thoughts of Hermione filled his head for the rest of the day. Draco couldn't stop. The more he tried to, the worse it got. And the worse it got, the worse he felt. Draco knew that nothing good could possibly come out of a relationship with her. There were so many cons to the situation. One, Hermione might not like him like that at all, and for him to go off and admit his feeling and suffer her laughter…Draco shuddered. Never had that happened to him, and he wasn't going to let Potter's best Mudblood friend have that achievement. Which brought him to reason number two: she was one of Harry's best friends, and the ex-girlfriend of Ronald Weasley. Used goods? Anyone who was connected to a Weasley was garbage. But Draco was willing to allow that little blooper in life slip by. Through the gossip vine in Hogwarts, the two hadn't slept together so technically she was still clean.

Reason number three: if a relationship did blossom and did get serious, Draco would be a hazard to her and she to him. Need he remind himself that he was heir to Voldemort and that he was going to be leading a bunch of Death Eaters who would rape and kill millions of muggles like Hermione? And if the Dark Lord ever did find out about Hermione before Draco took reign…Hermione would die and Draco would suffer the worst tortures ever conceived by the Dark Lord.

No, he couldn't be with her. Even if it so magically happened that she liked him as much as he liked her, he wouldn't allow them that chance. Because giving into that innocent temptation could bring about both their downfalls, but above all, her death, and Draco Malfoy did not want Hermione's death over his head. He would simply kill off these emotions that were raging inside him.

"We never did go over those questions that I had about the book the other day," she said, looking away at remembering what had caused the disturbance. They were about to separate to patrol their designated routes. "Do you want to meet up in the Common Room after this and talk about it?"

"Sure," he said before thinking. He mentally slapped himself in the head for being so careless. Hadn't he said earlier that he'd kill off his emotions towards her? Being with her in such close proximities wasn't going to help the situation. And then she smiled and turned and walked away, and as he watched her stride down the hall, her cloak barely allowing him to see the outline of her frame, he sighed deeply and thought, Draco, you just keep screwing yourself over for no apparent reason.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:

"This is exhausting," Hermione mumbled to herself, reaching for another piece of sliced apple on the plate that Dobby had brought her. She hated asking him for things, but the little elf had told her it was his pleasure to do 'favors' for the best girl friend of Harry Potter. And when it was put in that way, when it was considered a favor instead of an order, Hermione didn't feel quite as guilty asking Dobby to do things for her, especially when she really craved apples. She crunched down on the slice, licking the juice off her lips. Yes, quite scrumptious indeed.

"What's exhausting?" a voice called from across the room.

"Trying to translate this book. I'm using a translating spell I know, but then trying to understand the structure of the sentences…" Hermione trailed off, setting the book down on her lap and rubbing her eyes. Taking a deep breath and stretching, Hermione held out her plate full of apple slices. "Want one?"

Draco glanced between her and the plate. He watched her tilt her head to the side and give him a look as if saying, "Stop being all high-and-mighty and take a damn slice. I know you want one." So he smirked and took one, sticking it in his mouth so he could untie his tie and unbutton the top buttons of his shirt. He sat back in one of the chairs and put his feet up on the coffee table in front of him.

"Yes, it is exhausting…for weaker minds," Draco commented, finishing the apple.

"Weaker minds?" Hermione remarked in slight outrage.

"Why of course, Hermione," he said, giving her a sly look. "Do you really think that you're mind is superior to mine?"

"I highly doubt that your intelligence possibly surpasses mine. If we're not equally matched – an impossibility, but for arguments sake -- I think N.E.W.T scores will show which of the two of us is more intelligent…meaning me," she ended smugly.

N.E.W.T. scores prove nothing, especially when all the teachers and the Headmaster favor you, said a voice. Her eyes widened. Yes, Hermione, over here. This is the voice of a devilishly handsome man invading your mind.

"I don't know about handsome, although I'd have to agree with devilish…" she taunted, grinning.

Oh, stop being so jealous, Hermione. It's quite unflattering in a girl. Unless it's over of me, of course…

"How did you become telepathic?" she inquired, slightly envious of the talent.

I have the superior mind, remember? He taunted her in her mind, simply to further irritate her. He smirked, knowing he had succeeded. Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to her book. Draco watched her, watching her eat another apple slice. He liked apples.

Leaning over to the plate filled with fruit, he gave a groan of agitation as Hermione pulled the plate away and place it on her lap. She looked over her book, her eyes sparkling. She held out the plate, "Apple slice for book facts."

Usually, he wouldn't have given into the bait. But what the hell, Draco was feeling flirty. He reached for the plate and she pulled it farther away, smiling, "Fact first."

"Fact: I want an apple slice." By the look she gave him, he chuckled and picked the book off her lap, and at the same time, snatched an apple slice off the plate, much to her indignation. Although she tried not to stare as he chewed thoughtfully on the apple, she found it difficult to suppress a smile, as she watched his brow crinkle in concentration, fascinated at the scribbles before him.

Draco began his lesson, pointing at the illustrations in the book. "This is the symbol of the fire element –"

"As if the word 'Fire' subscripted underneath the picture didn't give it away already," Hermione interjected sarcastically.

"Would you like me to explain this to you or not?" Draco snapped, angered at being interrupted and belittled in one breath. Hermione blushed and looked away, grabbing at another apple slice and munching on it quietly. Draco grunted in exasperation; was this really worth an apple slice? He was transfixed as she licked her lips clean from the sticky juice. Oh yes, completely worth it…especially if he could get a taste… He pushed those thoughts aside.

"As I was saying…each element has its own symbol. When you can possess an element, the symbol will engrave itself into your back and will appear while you're using your element – that's how I discovered you were a Controller -- All four symbols combined create the Seal of Elements." Draco paused in his speech and showed Hermione a page in the book. Hermione took it and examined it for the fifth time, this time understanding a little more than she had times before. Trapped in a medallion shaped symbol, all four symbols, each being a beautiful, nymph-like creature, grouped together to create the seal.

To the right was the Water element, embraced by waves of water, threading over and around her body. Her long hair fell over her twisted frame, covering her exposed breasts, and curling around her waist. Her face revealed her tranquil spirit. Water filtered through her fingertips and into the center of the symbol.

Opposing the Water element was Fire. Fire was engulfed in flames, who was firing a blazing arrow to the middle. Her eyes gleamed with a wildness that was both intoxicating and frightening. Her hair was blown by an invisible wind, pulling towards the center. How she positioned herself was rather racy and expressed a sense of shamelessness.

Above both of the Water and the Fire goddesses was Wind. Standing vertically at the top of the seal, ribbons of wind wrapped around the nymph's body, revealing bits and pieces of her thigh and waist and arms, but covering the lower section of her body and her chest. The nymph's hair blew above her, thick curls twisted in wild directions. The windy ribbons passed around her neck and seemed to thread out amongst her hair like tributaries. Her two arms were held outwards as if dropping something and from her open palms was the wind design, flowing from her finger tips and twisting and turning majestically and designed to appear to be flowing to a certain area, which was in the middle of the seal.

The last of the symbols was Earth, who was opposite to Wind. She stood vertically as well, her arms stretched above her head, as if offering something to those above her. Her palms held upward, roots flowed from them, twisting to the middle. Leaves and vines wrapped around her body as well, hugging her exposed beauty, revealing only what she wished to reveal. Earth seemed more modest compared to the others. She appeared older, mature, and wise.

"One does not choose their element, similar to choosing one's own house at Hogwarts. You posses the traits for it or you do not. It's quite rare for a person to naturally posses all four elements. Only those with the power of all four powers can open the Seal. And if you open your mouth one more time, Hermione, I swear I will erase if from you face and I will never tell you anything else about the Elements. And don't you glare at me like that. As I was saying – I said stop glaring! – the Seal is the most powerful thing in this realm of magic.

"Legend has it that it still exists, but scientists say that it was destroyed during the Battle of Ariadne. Of course, that hasn't stopped wizards from trying to find it, naturally. Most of those wizards are usually gold diggers. They have no clue of the amount of power it takes to open it. Most people aren't aware you have to be a Controller in order to open it, and most people lack the strength (mentally and magically) to become a Controller," he finished, snapping the book closed and throwing it on the chair. "And when did you swipe my book, may I ask?"

Hermione, preoccupied with making the last piece of apple last forever, avoided answering his question. She hadn't told Draco that she had duplicated his book; she didn't know how he'd react. Instead, she said, "Pansy was here looking for you. She said it was urgent."

Draco sighed and shrugged it off. "It usually isn't. Blaise will handle it."

"Why do you treat her like that?" she demanded.

"What?" he asked, surprised at her reaction.

She sighed. "You can tell that she loves you. How can you just brush her off like that, especially when you get a new girlfriend?"

"Oh, you pay attention to my love life now?" he snapped, disturbed that she understood his relationship with Pansy so well.

"No," she said cautiously, knowing she had offended him, and continued rather sympathetically, "I hear her crying sometimes in the bathroom. She thinks she's alone…but you're never alone in this school."

"That's why I stay away from her when I can. She depends on me too much. I don't want to give her false hope," he said, not sure how to appropriately respond to her comment.

"Then why do you kiss her?" She sounded as if she were accusing him. He couldn't help but respond defensively, "They mean nothing."

"They can mean everything." And the tone in which she said it intrigued him to ask why. She played with her skirt and answered quietly, "Because a desperate mind can change anything into a beautiful moment."

He noticed her bottom lip tremble before she bit it. He watched her beautiful brown eyes darken in sadness. He knew what she was thinking, or rather, who she was thinking of. "You still think of him, don't you? You still love him."

"No. I've never loved him." She noticed his quizzical look and smiled. "What I mean is, love is too strong of a word to use. Love is supposed to be a strong word, but people have used it to describe the smallest sort of affection. That's not what love original is. Love is…indescribable. I liked him, but I didn't get the chance to discover if I loved him. I miss him though. I really do miss him, but I can't like him like I used to. After a month and a half without a single explanation or an apology? I can't be with a man like that."

"That's a guy for you. What can I say? Some of us are just assholes, especially red-headed ones," he said, trying to lighten the heavy expression on her face.

"That's no excuse," she said, looking him in the eye. It shocked Draco. To see such raw emotion in her eyes, to know that she was opening up to him in such a free way, it made him feel as if she trusted him with her thoughts and feelings. But he knew that wasn't it completely. He was more shocked at his own emotions reacting to hers. The more he listened to her, the more intrigued he became with her. And the more she mentioned Ron and how he broke her heart, the more he considered himself to be the only man who could show her that there were men out in the wizard world who could hold her heart gently and not be as clumsy as that arse had been. It had been a while since someone had spoken and Hermione mumbled quietly, "I'm going to bed."

As she got up and walked past him, Draco reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her. He didn't know why he had stopped her, and he was surprised at his own answer as he whispered, "Yeah, there is no excuse."

He took the risk of looking up at her and was pleasantly surprised to see her smile. The twisting in his stomach alarmed him, especially when she gave him one last glance before closing the door.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Draco found himself chatting with Hermione every night. He couldn't pull himself away from her. If he missed any opportunity talking to her during the day, he'd have a long discussion with her before they went to bed. He found it hard to avoid her, and he didn't mind not avoiding her. Because somehow even those rare moments where he'd bump into her in the hallways or shared a glance with her in the Great Hall brightened his day considerably. He tried not to become careless and obvious with his new interest, and while he succeeded in fooling everyone else, Blaise was the only one who knew Draco was immensely fascinated with a bird.

The more he talked with her, the more he started liking her for her mind. It found it harder to come up with reasons to not like her. The fact that she was a mudblood didn't bother him as much. In fact, it almost intrigued him further because she was so intelligent and passionate and still a mudblood. She was so unexpectedly different. She made him feel good about himself, and that was a feeling that only Blaise and Pansy made him feel. And her eyes were quite pretty…

When he walked into the common room that night, exhausted from hanging out with friends, he found Hermione standing next to one of the large windows, her eyes staring out into the distance, her fingers playing with a letter in her hands. He slowly put down his bag of books and went over to her.

"My dad took me out to the beach once. We bought this huge kite. The tail seemed miles long. It was probably only ten feet though. It was so colorful. I think it was decorated like the sun, the tail being one rainbow ray. We'd let it go till there almost wasn't any string to hold onto. This airplane flew by, and I had almost panicked, thinking that the kite would get sucked into the jet engine of the plane. That was such a great day, just a week before getting my letter to Hogwarts," she said distantly.

He liked listening to her tell stories of her and her parents. Her childhood was very different from his; he had very few enjoyable memories from his childhood, and he couldn't recall ones where his parents were involved. He hadn't minded when he was younger because his was ignorant to the idea of "family time", until he started going to Blaise's family events. Curious as to how her mind worked, Draco asked, "What made you think that?"

She nodded outside "It looks windy enough for a kite."

After a moment of silence, Draco asked quietly, "Who's it from?"

"My mother," she sighed. "She just rambles on about the divorce and about my dad, how he's insensitive about flaunting his new relationship. She talks to me as if I'm her best friend and I can listen to all her troubles. It's like she thinks I'm impartial to this. It's like she forgets that it was my dad who left, not just her husband. And then she's asking me what he's saying about all this and if he even gave a reason to why they divorced…"

She looked at him, pleading for answer. "This is how it's going to be, isn't it? I'm going to be in the middle and they'll play tug and war with me until I completely rip in half…or until a little step-kid pops out…Merlin, I'm sorry. I know you hate hearing this. I need to stop complaining about it. I know other kids have gotten it worse. It's just…you never think it'll happen to you. And then when it does…"

Draco took the letter and she watched him. "Anything valuable in this letter?" he asked. She shook her head and gasped as the letter burst into flames. She watched as the fire died and molded into a flickering bloomed flower that was cupped in Draco's hand.

"Make a wish," he said, holding it up to her. She looked at him and automatically grinned back to the small smile on his face. She looked at the beautiful fire flower in his hand and closed her eyes. Then she took a deep breath and blew. The flower flickered and then disappeared, the ashes flying around which were caught as Hermione trapped them and made them swirl a wonderful dance around the room. An invisible force pushed the window open and the ashes somersaulted out and were swept away by the wind outside.

With her eyes still on the ashes that disappeared in the darkness, she whispered quietly, "Thank you, Draco."

"Least I could do, along with this," he said while pulling a package out from behind him. She gasped, her eyes brightening. "Happy Christmas, Hermione. Sorry it's a little late."

"Draco, you didn't," she said, although he could tell she was pleased. She tore away the paper, giving a sharp gasp. In her hands was a beautiful, hardcover copy of Pride and Prejudice. She had mentioned earlier in one of their conversations that that was one of her favorite books and that she had left her copy at home; it was beaten up, it was hardly noticeable, but that's what you get when you buy paperback novels. By the texture of the cover and quality of the paper, she could tell it was an expensive book. But Draco was a Malfoy and Malfoys only bought the best in everything, especially when they wanted to impress someone. "Thank you so much, Draco."

He was going to say something witty like, "It's nothing" or "Don't look into it" or even "Girls and their silly romance novels, at least you have better taste than Pansy…" but before he could say anything, she had wrapped her arms around him and was giving him a tight, sincere hug. He blushed, and put his arms around her, and found himself saying, "You're very welcome, Hermione."

She looked up and smiled at him and Draco noticed how close they were. He wanted to kiss her. In fact, damn all logical reasoning, he was going to!

Then there was a peevish tapping on the window and he pulled away from her, much to his dismay and anger. He was going to roast the bird that was interrupting a very climatic moment for him.

"This better be important, or you'll be dinner tomorrow," Draco warned as he untied the note from the owl that seemed indifferent to Draco's threat. However, it was smart enough to fly away after it was free. Draco unrolled it and read the sharp message from Flint who told him to meet him a little outside of Hogsmeade in a couple hours. He swore under his breath.

"What's the matter, Draco?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing. Note from home, that's all," he replied. He ignored her look of doubt. "I'm pretty tired. Think I'll go to bed early."

He knew it was abrupt, but he was troubled. Why did Flint want to meet with him again, and so soon? How was he going to get out of the castle without anyone noticing? As he closed the door around him, he scanned for his only comfort.

He sighed as the lit cigarette glowed as he inhaled. He blew the smoke out the open window. Pulling out the crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket, he read it again. It was probably something about the Dark Lord. His thoughts traveled back to Hermione and how her life was in jeopardy with the upcoming war. She didn't like to see him smoke either…

Draco snuffed it without a second thought.

He looked once more at the paper before transforming it into another fire flower. "Make a wish," he said as he blew it away into the cold night air.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:

A/N:My apologies…there is a very good excuse, but that's all I ever do, isn't it?

Anywhoo, I would like to thank all you readers from the bottom of my heart and your dedication to reading this fanfic, seeing as my own dedication seems to be waning…!