Flashback:

"What the bloody hell," Draco yelled, "is this?"

"It's a picture, Malfoy," Hermione said, coolly. "What do you think it is?" The blonde boy glared at her.

"Yeah, and tell me, Granger," Draco sneered. "What is in the fucking picture?" This caught Hermione off-guard, but she didn't show it.

"Two people kissing," she said, resisting the impulse to say duh. "It's not that big a deal, Blondie." Draco looked at her, as if trying to convey a very urgent message. He grasped her arm, pulling her to a corner where no one will overhear their conversation.

"Are you totally out of your mind?" Draco hissed. Hermione tried to glare at him, but couldn't help but marvel at Draco's silver eyes.

"I – I don't think I am, Malf–Draco," she stammered. "I am trying to be totally calm about this matter, you didn't want anyone to know, right? 'Specially your dear father 'cause he might disown you. Well, I'm cutting this to the chase; I did not set that up."

"And you know what? I think you did," Draco sneered. "You set it up. Clingy little mudblood you are."

Hermione's eyes welled with tears. She was silently praying that he didn't mean that.

Oh, but he does, the annoying and accusing voice from before, said. You know he does mean every single syllable that comes out of his mouth.

"You… you didn't mean that," she said, her voice shaky. "Didn't…"

"What do you mean I didn't mean that?" Draco yelled. "Of course I meant that! I meant that you were clingy and that you are a filthy Mudblood."

Hermione's hand flew swiftly across his cheek. "What the hell, Granger!" But she already walked away. Pain. He didn't think it was just from the slap he'd received, it seemed that he can't take his mind off Hermione's hurt expression. But it didn't make a difference, did it? Whatever happens, he's still the same cowardly Malfoy.

!i!

Hermione ran. She needed to forget. She needed to get away. From Draco and his arrogance, from Ron and his betrayed expression, from Harry and his accusing green eyes, Ginny and her concerned gaze, and from her logic that screamed 'I told you so, I told you so'. She ended up in the Quidditch pitch, which was odd, for she never liked to fly, nor was it her pastime to get a crick in her neck staring up at Quidditch players.

"Accio Broom," Hermione muttered. Sure enough, one broom appeared it had Head Girl written on it in gold. It was light, and Hermione felt a surge of energy come from it. She mounted the said broom and took of, bending forward to accelerate. The air made her hair whip from left to right, just as the air had caressed her face. Her robes whipped from beneath her.

No wonder Ron and Harry love flying, she thought. This is awesome. Freedom, the rush of adrenaline and the air…

She zoomed around the pitch, and she could say she was ten feet off the ground.

"Hermione!" Ginny's frantic voice called out. "Hermione, where are you?"

"'Mione!" Ron called out. "'Mione!"

Higher, she willed herself. Higher! Don't let them see you!

"Granger," Draco's smooth voice whispered. It was louder than the Weasley's calls, maybe because it's the voice she wanted to hear. "Are you absolutely crazy?"

"Maybe I am," she said, thinking no one was there. "But I don't care. You hear me? I don't care!" She was really up high now, about 40 feet, and then she realized, she had no idea how to go down. Her hands went cold and clammy, thinking that if she's moved the slightest bit, she'd slip and suffer a big fall.

"Granger!" Draco's voice was a bit louder now, more urgent. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing? Is this really how you want to die?"

"SHUT UP!" Hermione cried. "You're not real! You're just a hallucination, the real Draco Malfoy doesn't give a damn about me!"

Draco stayed stationary on his broom, trying to understand what the brunette said. "Hallucination?" he echoed. "You think I'm not real? Fine. Just go down. Weaslette, Potty and Weasel King are looking for you."

"Don't call them that!" she snarled. She was getting lightheaded, she never liked heights. "And don't you dare tell me what to do! I don't answer to anyone. Especially to you, Draco Malfooooooy–!"

"Dammit!" Draco yelled, zooming after her. "Dammit, Granger!"

The Gryffindor shut her eyes and let out a bloodcurdling scream. I'm gonna die! she thought, terrified. I'm gonna die!

What was she thinking, yelling her head off? And taking her hands off the broom? Draco asked himself. What if I don't catch her? What if I'm too late?

"Faster!" he said to the broom, as if it could hear him, as if it could follow him if he said so. "Faster!"

It was happening too fast, too quickly, she was just waiting for the fall. She was close to unconscious, the blood pounded in her ears. For the young Malfoy, it was happening slowly, as if it were an instant-replay on television in—what's the name? Right, basketball. The wind whistled in his ears, as if it were telling him a secret. He leaned in outstretched an arm, and before she touched the ground, he caught her.

Sweat beaded in his face, his hair stuck to his skin, his breathing was uneven, and in contrast, she had her eyes shut, and she looked peaceful. He dismounted his broom, and was holding her bridal-style. He placed the girl down, dropping to his knees. He brushed the hair out of her face, and smiled inwardly.

She was breath-taking, even in her state. How come he hadn't noticed all the small details that made her so? Brown, wavy hair that reached the small of her back, a heart-shaped face, perfectly shaped eyebrows, long lashes, a cute little nose with a few freckles scattered around it and, lastly her soft, pink lips. The lips which he longed to be on his. He leaned in, closing his eyes as he inched his lips closer to hers. He could already taste her, already feel her... it was only a mere inch, but it felt like miles.

"Malfoy!" Ginny Weasley's very unwelcome voice called out. He sat up, not wanting his reputation to be more messed up than it's supposed to be.

"Weaslette," Draco said curtly. "Granger is here, she's unconscious, and I think you can take it from here?" Ginny nodded. Draco forced a smirk, and then he turned around, starting to walk away, but stopped in his tracks, remembering something. "Accio Hermione's broom," he muttered. The broom came zooming to Draco's outstretched hand. Then he turned around. "Here, give this to her. Could you do me a favor? Please don't tell her anything." Then he continued to walk.

"Malfoy," Ginny said. "I'll do what you say. Just tell me, why did you do this? I mean, save Hermione."

Draco laughed at this, a tinge of bitterness in it. "Weaslette, despite popular belief, I do have a heart. And I'll leave you with Potter." He nodded toward her back. "Remember what I said, Weasle—Ginny." Then he mounted his broom, and zoomed away.

!i!

Blaise Zabini saw everything. From Hermione riding a broom, to Draco zooming away. He just chuckled at the situation.

"Muggle soap opera is pawned by this," he said to himself. "Draco is torturing himself, Hermione is one clueless witch, I'd give her that." He hoisted himself up, and went to his room.

A/N

Me: Erm... yeah. The thing with Hermione flying was not planned that much. So I'm sorry if it's ugly. I'm honestly gonna freak... I don't know how to do action scenes. BLECCH. Hope you liked it though. Review? :)

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