A/N: Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry I've been gone for so long! I had my choir competition on Saturday, and guess what…? I'M GOING TO STATE! Lol. I seriously didn't think I would, but I'm glad I am. Anywhoo, moving on. Thanks once more to all of the reviews, especially unarosaesunarosa. You guys are pretty much the best!

Disclaimer: Not mine! Promise!!!! But if Tom Felton decided to relinquish his personal rights and become my sex slave, I would definitely not object.

Chapter 10: The Eyes

The ball was going to be a huge success, Hermione could feel it. Mostly because she could feel Malfoy's satisfaction pouring through the ring and the bracelet. The plans had gone to Dumbledore, and he had taken care of ordering anything and everything they might need for the decorations. Draco and Hermione were just supposed to decorate and then show up…together.

That was the piece de resistance. Ron had begged and begged for Hermione to take him back, and was now in the process of proclaiming his undying love for her every chance he got, and Harry was just sitting back, amused. He had no problem in the date department. Every single girl in their house was fawning all over him, but he already had the girl he wanted: Ginny.

And she was ecstatic. Hermione didn't need her to put on some enchanted jewelry to know that. So Ginny was happy, Ron was desperate, Harry was amused, Draco was content, and Hermione? She really didn't know what to feel.

She was glad the ball was going to be a success. She was agitated that Ron couldn't take a hint. She was exasperated that Harry wouldn't stop him. She was amused that Draco was actually calm for more than an hour at a time. And yet, she was still stressed about homework.

"How can you even worry about that stuff, 'Mione?" Draco asked her one night, while she was scribbling away at her parchment, the jewelry giving her away yet again.

"Don't call me that," she said stiffly. Being called 'Mione reminded her of Ron, and she didn't want anything of the sort. She continued to stare down at her parchment, aware that Malfoy was still watching her with interest. He had never called her a nickname before, and she could tell he was a little frustrated at being shot down so immediately.

"And, why, might I ask, am I not allowed to call you your established nickname?" he asked, slightly offended. Hermione refused to look up, maddeningly enough.

"Hermione!" he said, louder.

She glanced up, and caught eyes with Draco, who was gazing at her with his usual intensity, but it was slightly softened by something other than his usual malice. It was curiosity.

It had been almost two weeks since their heated make-out session that McGonagall interrupted, and there had been no mention whatsoever of the kisses, but Hermione and Draco were remarkably comfortable with each other. They helped each other with homework, they ate meals together, they even, sporadically, exchanged thoughts through the jewelry. It was such an intimate move, however, that they rarely felt comfortable enough to actually think something while looking into each others eyes. And, Hermione thought uncomfortably, his eyes were so intense and piercing that she really couldn't form a coherent thought with him looking in her eyes.

This moment was much like the rest. Her normally perfectly organized thoughts scattered when his stormy eyes caught her warm ones and she completely forgot the subject at hand.

"Huh?" she asked. Malfoy shook his head and smirked.

"Why can't I call you 'Mione?" he asked again, slightly more forcefully.

"I would just rather you didn't," Hermione said shortly. Ron's face flashed in her mind's eye, and she pushed it out, quite roughly. Ron's persistence was a constant annoyance to her now, especially since he just didn't seem like the same person since he had called her a Mudblood. The mere fact that he thought he could make up for it irked her.

But after all, she had sort of forgiven Malfoy, hadn't she?

"Malfoy," she said aloud suddenly, "Why did you stop calling me Mudblood?"

He stared at her questioningly. "Do you want the truth, Granger?" he asked.

She snorted. "I would prefer it."

He rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling, considering his answer. "Well, I wasn't born this horrible, you see," he began. Hermione laughed. "My father ingrained all sorts of horrible things into my mind. Muggle-borns are below us, we're the Wizarding world royalty, and the Dark Lord should run with entire Wizarding world. But my mother was always sort of mild in those aspects. Sure, she thought she was one of the best women in the Wizarding world, but she would never call someone a Mudblood to their face."

Hermione felt awfully uncomfortable. She knew everything he was saying was true, but they hadn't spoken about his mother since she died. She wasn't sure if he was going to lose control or not. "So, I guess when my mother died, so did my father's customs. Once my mother died, I decided to completely and totally go against everything my father told me. So, once I dropped the hatred of Muggle-borns, I started to realize that, while you're an annoying know-it-all," Hermione smiled endearingly at him, "You really aren't a bad person at all. In fact, you're quite remarkable."

She blushed incredibly, and he stood up, as though he was going to make his exit. But Hermione stood up.

"You know….Draco, you're a pretty remarkable person too."

He turned around and strode up to her so fast she barely had any time to back up with a gasp. She stopped after two steps and held her ground, thinking if she held her ground he would stop. But instead, he pressed himself as close to her person as he could get, holding her tight about the waist.

"I'm a terrible person Granger," he said roughly, and the darkness in his eyes made her for a second believe him. "I'm a Death Eater, my mother's dead because of me, I'm ruining your friendships, and I don't even have friends of my own." He moved his hands to her arms and gripped them tightly. "Everyone thinks I'm a terrible person. Therefore, I am."

Hermione shook his hands off and pushed him lightly. "You, Draco Malfoy, are NOT a bad person. You loved your mother. Your father killed her, NOT you. You completely dropped all Death Eater beliefs. You denounced Voldemort. And as for my friendships, all you did was make Ron jump to conclusions, which he does anyway. Our friendships have always had their ups and downs. You had nothing to do with that. And the only reason you don't have friends of your own is because you denounced Voldemort and most of your former friends were the children of Death Eaters. That is NOT YOUR FAULT."

"But if I had just listened to my father—"

She pushed him again. "NO! If you had listened to your bloody father, you would be a bloody Death Eater now, and you would be bloody unbearable to me! If you were a bad person, I wouldn't be spending this much time and energy proving to you that you weren't!"

She reached up and ran her fingers over his smooth cheek lightly. He closed his eyes and leaned into it.

"Granger," he said softly.

"My name," she said equally quietly, "is Hermione. Feel free to call me that." She pressed her lips to his softly, gently, and he smirked a little.

"Can I call you 'Mione?" he asked. Hermione looked at the ground and frowned.

"Anything but that."

"Why not?"

"That's what Ron calls me," she answered softly. She didn't want to admit that hearing her nickname roll of his tongue was so much more intimate and sensual when he said it, rather than the clumsy way Ron did.

"Right. The bloody fool." Hermione glanced up at him, and he smirked a little playfully at her.

"Can I call you a name?" he asked tentatively. "My own nickname?"

Hermione smiled. "Go for it."

He screwed up his eyes adorably in thought. "Well, Herm sounds too much like germ, and that's gross," she laughed. "What about Mia?'

"Mia," she said, letting the word ring in the air for a few seconds. "I like it." She stepped closer to him again, and instead of backing away, he looked down at her, amused. "So do I get to call you a nickname?" she asked.

"No."

Hermione frowned, sticking out her bottom lip slightly. Malfoy resisted the urge to smile. "Why not?"

"Just because."

She pressed herself entirely against his hard Quidditch toned body. "Not even Drake?" she asked, whispering the name.

He didn't move away from her, but closed his eyes a little too long to just be a blink.

"No, Mia."

She wiggled her hips against his, and wrapped her arms around his neck, mussing his hair from behind. She pressed her soft lips to the underside of his jaw. "Pleeeeease?" she asked, drawing out the word and breathing it against his skin.

"Fine," he gasped. "Mercy, call me what ever you want!"

She smiled and stepped away from him. He stared at her for a second. "Now wait a minute," he said. She took a step back and he lunged at her.

"You can't just do that and walk away," he said, holding her waist tightly. He had her held so tight that her feet were barely touching the floor, and she smiled mischievously at him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck and kissed him roughly. He ran a hand through her hair and held the back of her neck, tangled in her hair and all, and pulled her even closer.

The jewelry, which seemed dormant for way too long, kicked in with a vengeance. Hermione forgot anything and everything she had in her mind before and all she could focus on was the blonde boy that currently had her pressed up against the wall. She opened her eyes for a moment, and the jewelry (or that's what she told herself) made her whole body tremble at the sight.

Draco's hair was tangled and messy and falling into his incredible eyes. His lips were bruised and swollen, and the smirk on his face was so contagious, it felt like her own. This time, instead of attacking her lips, he dove at her neck, determined to leave her another hickey, like the one that had taken three days to disappear. She leaned her head back to give him better access and suddenly, the whole spell was broken.

Someone was watching them.

Hermione pulled away from Draco as fast as she could. So fast, in fact, she almost hit the floor as she unwrapped her legs from around his waist. He looked at her questioningly, but she didn't say anything. She looked straight into his eyes. This was not the time for words aloud.

Someone was watching us.

Don't be paranoid. No one can get in here.

I'm sure of it.

Well, we'll just have to look then, won't we?

So they searched the entire Heads Tower, including the bedrooms. There was no one there. And yet, Hermione was absolutely sure there had been someone watching them. Draco never strayed from the mantra "No one can get in here", and in a way, she was glad for his stability.

Too bad she had seen a pair of eyes, much like Draco's, staring at her from across the room.

A/N: OOOOOH! So, how was that? Sorry again, that it took me sooooooo long to update. I had terrible writers block for the longest time, and I just kind of broke the wall down. So, pretty pretty pretty please review!