She furiously walked away in the opposite direction only slowing down once she had turned a corner. Hermione Granger did not like Draco Malfoy nor did she trust him. She still did not comprehend why the rest of the Order trusted the slimy snake.

Though he was semi right in putting an end to Ron's banter, which had been outlandish to say the least, he had no right to do it in such a boorish manner.

Who did he think he is?

She furiously stormed into her dormitory. Since she was Head Girl, she received her own, private room, located on the seventh floor. Though it wasn't anything ostentatious, it contained all the indispensable requirements and more.

Once one entered, he or she was greeted by a blazing, warm fire in her small sitting room. Though modestly sized, the room contained a plush sofa, a low coffee table and an armchair located in front of the fire perfect for reading. The window to the room offered a view of the lake and Forbidden Forrest, which proved to be quite spectacular in the early hours of the morning when the sun slowly rose above the crimson horizon. Opposite the fireplace was a bookshelf containing a variety of tomes, many of which Hermione had already read. Connected to this area was a small kitchenette, which proved quite useful during late night study sessions.

Her bedroom was located up a two step rise and through a carved mahogany door. The bedroom too was of moderate size containing a large four poster bed draped in gold and scarlet in honour of her House. Opposite the bed was a vanity, and next to it was a large wardrobe for her clothing. The room also offered the same view as the living area. Next to the window there was a small desk at which Hermione often sat to do her homework. Opposite the window there was a door that led to Hermione's own private bathroom. This was probably the one thing she absolutely adored about her dormitory. The bathroom contained a moderate sized bath, nowhere near as large as those in the prefect's bathrooms but decent none the less. Hermione often took long relaxing baths to sooth her muscles and brain after a tiring week of school.

She slowly sat on the bed, trying to clear her head of all thoughts Malfoy related. How she detested him!

What scared her though, was the way he looked at her sometimes, when he wasn't busy being a complete git. His eyes held things that made her blush when she thought of it. Almost like he wanted to take her right then and there.

She would often find him staring at her like that during meals. If she ever made eye contact with him he would continue staring for a few more seconds, as if silently promising her things that would curl her toes. But once he looked away, the spell would be broken, leaving her dazed and confused, unable to pay attention to her food.

She never allowed herself to believe anything good would come out of these glances, thus scaring her even more as to his intentions. There was something almost sinister that surrounded his pale gaze.

The thought caused an electric shiver down her spine, which caused her to stand up and walk to the bathroom. She glanced at herself in the mirror, examining her features. Nothing special or deserving of prolonged attention, she concluded, thus once again wondering what exactly Malfoy continuously stared at.

His behaviour confused her to no end, not to mention that she did not trust him. She knew this whole thing had to hold something for him, for Draco Malfoy would never help others without serving his self interest first.

And then of course there was the problem of Ron, she thought with a sigh.

Over the summer and the past year, he had changed, not necessarily in a good way. He had drastically grown in height and mass, now towering over her. Also, the long hours of quidditch had made him more bulky and muscular. This in itself was not the problem though. What made her uneasy was the way he had become around her, and others for that matter.

Ronald Weasley had become quite the arrogant git in recent months.

Hermione's little crush on Ron had ceased to exist a long time ago, permitting her to only perceive him as a friend, and thus become more critical of his behaviour.

He, on his own part had started gaining some attention for the girls of Hogwarts and had more precisely been acquainted with the physical pleasures they could bring. These days, he was with a different girl every week, and if that didn't work, there was always Lavender. But he also acted towards her the same way, making strange and unwelcomed advances, putting his arm around her and invading her personal space far too often.

To summarize, Ronald Weasely made her even more uncomfortable than Malfoy did, these days. Malfoy was a slimy cad, and any negative behaviour was expected of him. She had however, grown up with Ron thus making his new attitude rather hard to swallow.

Sighing in frustration, Hermione decided that a long bath would be quite welcome and perhaps a good book was also needed to pacify her mind.

oOo

While eating dinner in the Great Hall the following evening, Draco Malfoy decided it was time to strike. Though rather out of the blue, his decision was really an outcome of watching Granger under hooded eyes. She currently sat with her friends, looking somewhat uncomfortable as she pushed her food around her plate.

She had barely eaten anything.

Next to her sat Weasely, his arm loosely draped around her shoulders laughing vulgarly with his mouth hanging open for everyone to see his dinner. The oaf's lack of manners was truly disgusting.

What caused him to make his decision was precisely this display. Who did Weasely think he was, acting as if he owned her? She belonged to him, or would very soon at least, and he did not want anyone else touching her like that.

Not in public.

Especially not Weasley.

Truthfully speaking, he wasn't exactly sure why he felt this way. It just happened over time, really. After much deliberation he had concluded that his obsession with Granger had taken root soon after third year, when she had punched him, quite hard.

Yes, he had hated her for a while.

Hated her more than usual.

He had despised her for humiliating him like that in front of others. But his hate soon turned into something else; it turned into intrigue.

Truthfully, she had been one of the few people to touch him up to that point in his life. As a child, he had often been deprived of the warm comfort of human touch. Such things led to weakness, which was quite an undesirable trait for a Malfoy. Even when punishing him, his father would rather use his wand than actually touch him. At that point in his life, he could have easily counted the times another human being purposely touched him, and there were only a hand full.

He often wondered, though he did not show it, if there was something wrong with him. He would always watch his fellow school mates receive warm hugs before climbing onto the Hogwarts Express for another school year.

He was never part of such a display.

He remembered the only time his mother had ever embraced him was at the end of fifth year, when his father had been sent to Azkaban following the events that occurred in the Department of Mysteries as the Ministry of Magic. Even then though, she hesitated.

But Granger hadn't hesitated.

For that, he admired her, and had come to desire her.

He decided that for the time being, he would try to seduce her rather than have her by force, as he had initially planned. If his seduction worker, things would undoubtedly go much smoother than first foreseen.

With a predatory smirk, he stood, exiting the great hall precisely two minutes after Granger had. If all went well, his plan would be set into motion that very evening. Based on the look on her face as she had left, he did not doubt its success.

oOo

Hermione found herself aimlessly walking through the halls of Hogwarts before finally deciding that she was suffocating. She needed air, fresh, cold air.

She didn't bother retrieving her cloak before walking out the main entrance of the castle, and onto the still green grass. She began to walk, and realized only after a few minutes that she was making her way towards the Great Lake.

She wasn't sure what had possessed her to do so, but did not decide against it.

It was a beautiful evening. The moon was full, and still hung low against the background of the inky sky. It was brilliantly big, bathing the surroundings in its ethereal silvery light. It was not warm outside, something Hermione was glad for. The cool air shocked her system, cleansing her mind and senses.

It was exactly what she needed at the moment to calm herself.

Truthfully, there hadn't been a particular event that had compelled her to leave. The combination of activities surrounding her had slowly driven her mad. Harry and Ginny had been sitting together, sickeningly happy with just embracing and kissing one another, while in the mean time ignoring everyone else.

Ron had eventually removed is hand, or rather, he had been forced to do so by Hermione's glacial reactions to him. He spent the rest of the time exchanging innuendos with Lavender, whose hand had been placed in his lap the entire time, doing Merlin knows what.

It was the first in a very long time that Hermione felt truly alone. She felt as alone as she had felt in the first few months of her first year, when she had been shunned by all either due to her undesirable blood, or stuck up ways.

She hadn't been truly happy in a very long time. Now that she thought about it, she couldn't really remember the last time she had been contented. These days, she had nothing to look forward to. Everyday getting out of bed became a bit more difficult as she was faced with what felt like a perpetual array of Monday mornings.

She finally reached the lake, and with a sigh, decided to sit down. As much as she loathed to admit it, she really missed human company. Her books, though fascinating, were not adequate substitutes as many believed.

She tried to push all of these thoughts out of her head as she looked over the surface of the lake. Considering the times the wizarding world was currently facing, she realized it probably wasn't the safest of things to be sitting out alone at night, susceptible to any attack. Truthfully though, she didn't care. If she were to die right then and there, she doubted anyone would miss her or even realize.

She felt a stray tear run down her cheek but she did not attempt to displace it. She didn't know when things got quite so complex. Just a year ago, everything had been fine, though the threat of Voldemort still loomed over them. The past summer, however, had changed everything for her. Ron had turned into a completely different person. As for Harry, though she still loved him like a brother, she could tell that he was slowly giving up. This was the only explanation she could formulate as to why he decided to finally be with Ginny. He just didn't care anymore. He wanted to enjoy his life, or at least what remained of it.

"You know Granger, you shouldn't be sitting here by yourself, all alone, at night," drawled a voice from behind her, chilling her to the very core. She immediately attempted to rise, but was gently pushed back down. "The fact that you're a girl doesn't make the situation any better, either. Do you realize how many horrible people are out there who would use this situation to their advantage?"

"W-what do you want Malfoy?" she whispered. His words sent a tremor of fear down her spine though she wasn't sure how to react. She turned around to face him, attempting to put on her most courageous face.

"Many things really. You're one of them," he stated matter-of-factly, his silver eyes boring deep into her own as he took a seat next to her. "Calm down, I don't plan on causing you any harm. I was merely stating the risks. You know, you can never be too cautious."

She regarded him silently for a few moments, taking in his quidditch robes and broom. She concluded that he had been out practicing, and had not followed her as she had first assumed. She let her guard down momentarily, sighing in relief that it had been him and no one else, though he was far from being one of her favourite people. She did not attempt to analyze his previous words.

"So tell me Granger, why is it that you're out here all alone? Are you attempting to catch hypothermia? I hear it's not a very great way to die. Not very glamorous."

"I needed some air," she replied mysteriously, not looking at him.

"Is that why you were crying, because you needed air?" he questioned, grabbing her chin in his hand and turning it gently so that she faced him. He then gently wiped a stray tear away, his long finger pulling away as he examined the bead of liquid.

"It is of no concern to you. I believe that it is my rightful decision to cry and where I chose to do so. So please, just leave me be," she replied turning away and gazing sadly at the lake in front of her eyes. "If I'm lucky, maybe the giant squid will decide on an evening snack and end my misery."

"It may not be of any concern to me, but I do not particularly wish to see anything bad happening to you. It's rather sad that I seem to be the only one that notices that you haven't been yourself lately," he replied, forcing her to gaze at him once more. She grudgingly realized he looked stunning in the moonlight, his pale skin looking almost otherworldly. "You previous monologue only further cemented that fact, thus you must now tell me what ails you."

She sighed, realizing that she was too tired to argue with him. "Everything's wrong," he replied shortly.

"I think I need a bit more insight than that, Granger,"

"That I cannot provide, for I myself don't really know what wrong. I'm despondent. I've been this way for a very long time, and the people around me don't really seem to be helping the matter, not that I expect them to," she said, barely above a whisper in a quivering voice. "As wrong as it may be to say this, I'm just tired of life, and I don't see this feeling changing any time soon."

"I never took you for the suicidal type," he replied. "You shouldn't say such things though because the universe may just listen to you one of these days."

"Now that wouldn't be so terrible."

"On the contrary, there are many people who love you. Think of your parents at least," he tried in exasperation.

"They're dead," she replied dryly, not even blinking. "You friends eliminated them."

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't realize..." he trailed off, at a loss for words. Apparently there was a first for everything. He wasn't quite sure how to proceed, not having realized that the girl was in such a deplorable mental state. Something had to be done immediately, if not he doubted he'd even have a chance with her unless he took an interest into necrophilia.

"That's understandable. Now I do suggest you leave me be before I depress you even further. It's terribly unhealthy, you know," she concluded, turning around to face him once more a sardonic smile tugging at her lips. He didn't say anything though, he simply leaned over, and before she was able to protest, he kissed her.

oOo

So here's the second chapter. Leave me a review and tell me what you think. Don't worry, this fic will still be dark enough, but that part will come soon enough. SO leave me a review and tell me what you think? On a side note, I also wish to share that I have found the real Draco Malfoy, or rather, I work with him. The resemblance is quite amazing, though he is a bit more tanned. Obviously I will not be freaking the poor guy out by sharing any of this, but I thought you guys would understand the importance of this.

SO anyway, drop me a line, tell me what you think!

-Isabeau