Friends,

Please let me know what you think of this chapter! I truly have delighted in every single one! Even though there are few, they really help me as a writer and they also make my day. Thanks for reading! It is a bit longer to make up for the short one I gave you yesterday.

Love,

SweetSlytherinPrincess

Locomotive

Chapter X

The quill quivered nervously as she attempted to put her thoughts down on parchment. A few drips of black ink dribbled onto the page, and she cursed beneath her breath, tossing the parchment to the side to lay with the heaping graveyard of failed versions.

With a calming breath, she pulled a fresh sheet and started once more.

Ronald,

It had been quite some time since I've sent an owl, I know. Things here at Hogwarts have been busy, to say the least.

She paused, her mind flooding with all the possible retaliations to her confession. Was this the best way to tell him? It seemed cowardly…. But she wouldn't see him in person for quite some time. Especially since they were all vacationing in Romania again. As she stared at the words, she let out a frustrated sigh. They seemed forced. They seemed fake. How could she begin with normal conversation, only to lead up to her confession that would break him apart? How could she explain herself? There wouldn't even be any warning! It wasn't as if they had grown apart. There were no issues in their relationship. They were comfortable. And yet…

She tore the sheet away and shoved it into the ever-increasing pile.

Ron,

You are my best friend. For as long as I can remember, you have been there for me. And I am so thankful for what we share. Right now I am going through a lot. It is hard to explain, but I haven't been able to be honest with myself. I have made mistakes, Ronald. At this point, I think it's best for the both of us to remain just friends, so that nothing gets broken. I know this is sudden. I wish I could explain more, but I would rather save it for when I get to see you again. Please understand, I love you.

Hermione

She stared down at her work. It was short. It was ambiguous. It wouldn't work. With each draft, she had the sense that she wouldn't have the courage to send it.

The deep burgundy curtains were drawn shut, but she could feel the cold morning air creeping in, and the birds chirped a happy song. She sat at her desk, still in her sleep clothes. She had dragged the blanket with her from her bed and had it wrapped around her middle as she wrote. As she worked, she heard quiet noise coming from the commons. Soft footsteps, quiet echoes through the fireplace as it was carefully filled with wood. It wasn't long before she could hear a spell spoken, followed by the sweet sound of crackling flames. She sat back in her chair, longing to feel its warmth. But she know who has lit it. She still couldn't bring herself to face him. His words still ringing in her head.

Suddenly there was a rapping on her door. She stood quickly, snatching the letter from her desk and crumpling it in her hands. Her heart beating wildly as she made her way to the door, letting the blanket fall to the floor. She pulled the door open only a sliver, peeking out to Draco Malfoy standing there with his best attempt at a casual expression.

"Granger. Tea." He nodded in the direction of the common room before retreating back down the hall. His hands in his pockets. She stared after him, aghast. For once, his hair was not perfectly sculpted. It fell tousled, unkempt. His feet had been bare, his attire still the same from when he had been sleeping. She blushed, shutting the door once more. Tea? He made them tea? Why in God's name did he think that was the way you invited someone? It sounded almost like a command. With a nervous sigh she pulled a forest green sweater on over her head, and wrapped the blanket around her middle once more. Glancing at her face in the mirror as she exited, making sure to rub the sleep from her eyes and run her fingers through her hair a few times before she made it to the common room.

As she entered the room, she stood off to the side. Her small hands clutching the blanket tight around her. She was sure she had gone pale as she spotted him crouched by the fire, fiddling with the kettle. Suddenly it occurred to her that she often saw him there, before the fireplace. Her last few memories of him were a picture of him cast in dancing warm shadows. It seemed odd to her, that he did so much by hand. Surely it wasn't necessary for him to set up the wood, prepare the tea. Perhaps he liked to do it on his own? But considering how much he spoke of pure bloodlines, she would have thought that pompous little Malfoy would have never raised a finger I his life. Not even to take the silver spoon from his mouth.

"Are you going to sit? Or just stand there?" She flinched, snapped from her train of thought. She hurried over, and pulled herself into one of the loveseats, pulling her knees to her chest and arranging the blanket around her for optimal coverage and warmth. Soon only her face and her forearms were visible from her cocoon she had fashioned. When Malfoy turned, he eyed her with a confused huff of laughter.

"Granger, you look like a child." He couldn't help but smile, her wide honey eyes peering up at him as she blushed.

"It's cold…" She replied softly, looking at the floor.

"Clearly." He moved over, pulling a few teacups from a cupboard against the wall. "Do you have a preference?" He asked, looking over his shoulder at her. She shook her head. With a shrug he picked a simple Grey and moved over to the whistling kettle, waving his wand to pull the kettle from the heat and pour the boiling water into each petite cup.

"Cream? Sugar?" He asked. She shook her head once more, and he scoffed. Shaking his head as he dropped lump after lump into the darkening water. Hermione raised her brows and the count came to five. He followed with a slash of cream. She stifled a giggle. The ominous and danger Draco Malfoy had a sweet tooth."

"Would you like some tea with your sugar?" She said softly with a grin. He shot a glance at her as he handed her the cup.

"Hush up, Granger." He moved back and settled into the black chair that faced her. His body warmed by the fire. She giggled once more before sinking deeper into her fortress of blanket, bringing the hot tea to her lips and sipping carefully.

"So, I assume you have something to say." She said in-between sips. He stared at her, his blue eyes boring into her. He set his tea to the side and interlaced his fingers, pensive.

"I'm offended you doubt that I could simply be showing kindness."

"There is always a motive."

"What was yours then?" He tilted his chin up, looking down his nose at her. She flinched.

"What do you mean?"

"What exactly motivated you to kiss me that day, Granger?"

"I…" A flush creeped up her neck, and she stammered. "I haven't been able to find the words to explain it yet." She looked away.

"Try."

"No."

He sat forward suddenly, His elbows resting on his knees. He was displeased.

"Listen to me. Granger. I won't settle for these games. What is holding you back? You've always been a woman who takes charge. Knows what she wants. Why are you so afraid? Because you will hurt Weasley? Because people with judge you? Or is it that you are unsure of how I will react? If I can even be trusted?" She looked at him now, her expression confused.

"I am nearly positive that you have feelings for me. Feelings that go beyond what you feel for Weasley. I think I excite you. I think that no matter how you try to deny it, you can't get me out of your head. It must be hard, I know. You are comfortable with the Weasel. Why would you give that up for someone that you're not even sure would return your affection?" He stood suddenly, and her eyes followed his movement. But the rest of her body was completely frozen with fear.

"Is that what it is? Beyond the judgment. Beyond the pain you would cause Weasley. Is it simply because you can't make the leap without seeing where you will land? Listen to me, Granger. And listen well. You give me the word, and I will make you mine. I can give you more than that red-head ever could. And I am willing to. So long as you would ask." His face was stone as he spoke, her face tilted up to stare at him. His own words surprised him. It had only been hours earlier that he had contemplated what to do. And here he was risking everything. Risking looking like a fool. All for a frizzy haired girl.

Her lips parted, her brain seeming to be at a standstill as she tried to process his words. She must have heard them wrong. Make her his? For the most part, she had labeled her infatuation with Malfoy as some weird category of lust and confusion. The idea of actually being with him has never seemed like a plausible outcome. She couldn't wrap her mind around it. And she sure as hell couldn't understand why he felt this way towards her.

"And I will have you know… now that the cards are on the table… it's too late to turn back. I have made up my mind about you Granger. No matter how you react right now, keep it in your mind that I will not stop pursuing you. I do not lose. He knelt before her now, leveling his gaze with hers. She shivered.

"Well?"

She looked at the ground. Her brain turning on, running at a mile a minute. She couldn't handle this. Nothing made sense anymore! She shook her head furiously and shifted to stand, but he grasped her shoulders and sat her back down.

"Quit running away." He said coldly. "Hermione Granger doesn't run away." She glared at him hopelessly.

"Malfoy – "

"My name is Draco." Her eyes widened, and she blushed deeper.

"Draco…. You can't expect me to have an answer…" She broke her stare, lowing her eyes. He reached forward and tilted her chin up.

"Accompany me to Hogsmeade this weekend. Alright?" He said softly, leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss on her lips. He stood then, moving to grab his sweet-tea before slowly exiting towards his own room.

She sat there, frozen. Her fingers tracing her lips a moment before she let the tears fall freely. Tears of fear and confusion. She stood then, retreated back to her own room, slamming the door behind her and pressing herself against the door in dismay. She glanced around the room, eyeing her desk littered with wasted parchment. She rushed over to it, shoving the useless pages to the floor before pulling a fresh sheet. What was this feeling? Her whole body seemed to be tingling, and her heart was beating out of her chest. Her stomach seemed to be turning over and over.

Ronald,

I seem to be falling in love with Draco Malfoy. Please forgive me.

Hermione.

Before she could change her mind, she called an owl, and send the letter off. As the owl disappeared into the distance, she collapsed against the window pane, her body shaking as she sobbed.