Disclaimer: All belongs to J.K Rowling of course.
Based on a fanart I drew of Dramione. Enjoy and please comment.
Hogwart's corridors were disturbingly empty; as if there was a purpose as to why there were no life forms in the corridor except him and possibly another. Hands in the pockets of his jeans, Draco Malfoy, Slytherin, strolled down the empty corridor not knowing where exactly he wanted to go. As long as he could escape from the crowds of Slytherin that he called his group of friends, he was satisfied. He needed to be in solitude.
From the exact opposite direction came a brunette girl whose hair swayed from side to side as she walked. She was Hermione Granger, Gryffindor of course, who was on her way to the library to study. She carried a book in her hand which she thought would assist her further on her studies. Then she stopped when she saw another person walking towards her. Him, of all people.
He saw a brunette girl come into view and saw her stop in her tracks. He slowed down himself, and then stopped to look at her. He scowled. It was the Mudblood, Hermione Granger, and Potter's little friend. Not wanting her to think that he stopped because of her, he started to make his way across the corridor again.
She gulped a bit when he began walking towards her. Why the hell did she feel nervous? Ignoring her own nervousness, she began to walk towards him also. They crossed each other but somehow, something compelled them to look at each other. Both of their heads turned and dark brown eyes looked into lonely blue eyes. Hermione's mouth opened a bit, as if to say something, but instead felt warmth rising upwards into her cheeks. Somehow, she knew that a new affection for the Slytherin had sprouted inside of her. At that thought, she quickly looked away and walked onwards.
He couldn't believe it. As he turned his head and looked into pools of dark brown, he felt his cheeks become warm. What the hell was going on? Did somehow he, a pureblood and hater of Mudbloods, fall for one himself? How his father and mother would look at him with such distaste if they were ever to find out that he had a tiny bit of affection for said Mudblood.
But when she continued to walk on, he stopped once again to look at her. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad after all. Would it?