The Harry Potter universe and its characters are the sole property of J. K. Rowling. By using them below, I am in no way claiming ownership.

Hermione had rushed through the castle and up to her dormitory unmolested, much to her relief, as the suppressed emotions had now begun to erupt in loud, ugly bursts. Through tears she looked at the happy paraphernalia of her partying school friends, which had been carelessly strewn about the room - Lavender's clutch collection, Padma's jewellery box, Ginny's make-up. All the girls were still at the ball, no doubt lost in a haze of glitter and dancing. Only an hour ago, there had been the possibility of Hermione's own magical evening. Instead the night had crushed her, all the glamour of the Yule ball blown away by the words of a cruel, unfeeling Draco.

She'd had the internal argument about Draco Malfoy so many times now, it wasn't worth revisiting. Hermione simply cried herself to sleep, wishing that the night would end.

She was woken up an hour later, by a sound she only vaguely heard through her blankets. There was a sudden patter against the window, and she sat up in the bed. It's probably Hedwig. A third patter, more insistent, and she resigned herself to getting out of bed. She pushed open the windowpane and jumped, startled by what she saw - instead of Harry's fluffy white owl, Draco was floating alongside her tower. Somehow he had conjured a floating disc of air, magic Hermione had not stumbled across in her pre-emptive studies, and was still in his ball attire. He lay on his side, propping his head up with one arm, his knees splayed apart in a sexy pose. One hand lay across his chest, resting above his heart.

'Hermione, my love...' His smile crushed Hermione further. 'Have you been crying?' He frowned, looking as if her sadness truly pained him. That was enough to snap her out of her daze.

'What are you doing here?'

'I couldn't bear to be apart from you any longer.' He floated closer. Despite the way he'd treated her, she still couldn't control her feelings - she wanted him.

'Damn you, Draco Malfoy.' Her hand moved for the windowpane.

'Wait!' He reached out for her. 'Why do you treat me with such cold disdain?' He was practically close enough to crawl in through her window now. 'Have I wronged you?'

'Do you think I'm easy?' Hermione scowled, angry. 'Do you think you can come here and act all apologetic and I'll let you do whatever you want again?' She didn't wait for a response, and slammed the window in his face. 'Piss off!'

Draco continued to float at the window, looking forlorn, so Hermione pulled the curtain shut.

'Oh, Hermione,' Draco whispered at the cold glass, casting no reflection on the window. 'I'll prove my love to you.'

'How was your night, Hermione? I saw you go off with that cute guy. Was he a Durmstrang?' Ginny asked, cheerfully munching on some toast. Ron sat beside her, spooning baked beans onto his cooked breakfast.

'It was no-one,' Hermione replied, trying to remain emotionless. 'I just went back to the dorm.'

'But you left your notepad.' Ginny extracted it from her robes and pushed it across the table.

'Oh. Silly me.' Hermione's tone was still emotionless, worrying Ginny more. It was like the spark behind her eyes had been covered up, shielded from the real world. Ginny glanced sideways at Ron and nudged him in the side, trying to urge him to comfort his friend. He grunted through a mouthful of black pudding, then stared at her.

'What?'

'Help Hermione,' Ginny whispered to him. Ron pulled a face and returned his attention to his sausage, while Hermione stared at her orange juice, dejected. Something dropped from a height and plopped into the juice, causing a small splash, and both herself and Ginny turned their gaze upwards. Owls had begun to drop off the morning's post, with one owl in particular flying backwards and forwards above the pair with a bouquet of white roses dangling from its talons. The tawny owl dropped the bouquet and it landed with a thud in the middle of the table. Ginny pouted,

'Is it for you or me?' She asked, hopeful. Hermione's denial was cut-off by a loud shout from the bottom of the table.

'Bejesus!' Seamus shouted, as a bouquet of wild flowers fell into his porridge, splattering him with milk.

There was a shout from the other end of the table, and Hermione watched as a young witch began to fan an unconscious Colin Creevey with a napkin. He had been knocked unconscious by a Christmas rose.

Suddenly chaos erupted.

A torrent of owls began dropping bouquets and single flowers, turning the great hall into a war zone, with every student for themselves. The Ravenclaws jostled with the Hufflepuffs to get out of the pansy firing-line, while Blaise Zabini ran around the hall in a frenzy, entangled in bundles of baby's breath. Dumbledore stood up from the head table and tried to call for order, but was taken out by a rogue magnolia.

Ron glanced up, a half-chewed sausage rolling around his open mouth. 'Cor, 'Mione, are all these for you?' Ginny grabbed her brother's robes and quickly pulled him under the table, the only place of shelter. She pulled the shell-shocked Hermione under by her ankles.

Neville sat a few metres away, rocking back and forth in the semi-darkness, muttering to himself. 'It's happened,' he said suddenly, his terrified eyes locked on Hermione. 'The plants have come for me.'