Forbidden Feelings

Chapter 17

Okay, this chapter took FOREVER to write. But anyway, here it is and I hope it's okay! Thanks to those who have reviewed also, it means a lot!

Hermione

After what seemed like an extremely long and difficult day, Hermione was glad when it turned dinner time. Sitting down with a huge sigh, she stared gratefully at the plate of food sat in front of her.

'Rough day 'Mione?' Ginny asked, giving her a sympathetic look as she rubbed her temples.

'Something like that.' Hermione smiled weakly in reply.

'You know you could speak to McGonagall if you're finding all this Head Girl stuff difficult on top of school work?' Harry suggested.

'Thanks Harry, but I'm fine, honestly. Just a little tired.'

'Okay.' He didn't look convinced.

'Where's Ron?' Hermione had noticed he was missing.

'Umm..' Ginny said, her and Harry exchanging awkward glances.

'What? What is it?' She frowned.

'Well he wanted to wait until you'd gone to have dinner.' Harry said quietly, nervously playing with his food.

'What? Why?' Hermione asked incredulously.

'He says it's still too hard seeing you.'

'But he's sat with us other meal times? What could I have possibly done to justify this?'

'Nothing, Hermione. He's just finding this break up difficult.'

'You know what, I'm not hungry anymore. Tell Ronald he can come to dinner now, at least then he won't have to wait as long to eat half of the house elve's cooking.' Hermione snapped, storming out of the hall before Ginny or Harry could object.

She took a moment before deciding to go for a walk around the grounds, and stepped outside into the cold air. She shivered slightly as the cool breeze whipped her hair back, but continued walking in a brisk pace. She looked out to the lake, which was glistening in the moonlight, and as she stared up at the moon noticing it was full, she became overcome with sadness, as she remembered her late Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher and friend, Remus Lupin. He was one of many she'd lost during the war, and to this day Hermione still hadn't gotten over the amount of lives that had been taken during the battle. She shook her head at her behaviour over Ron earlier, realising that compared to the battle and the future trouble that was brewing, it all seemed so petty.

Her mind drifted to Draco, who spent a considerable amount of time in her thoughts nowadays. She was worried for him, she feared (or rather knew) he was putting on a brave face for her, and was more afraid of his father then he let on. She pondered on past conversations she'd had with him, and how whenever the topic of Lucius had occured, he'd quickly brushed it aside, the same dark expression flashing across his face each time. Although she'd never asked, Hermione wondered if he'd only joined Voldemort and his followers because of his father, because he was afraid what would happen if he didn't. She thought of the Dark Mark on his arm, how Draco would always leave the sleeve of his shirt down on that side, as if he couldn't bear to look at it or have it on display. She'd noticed this even before she'd discovered this other side to him, but assumed Professor McGonagall had told him to do so. Even when she'd been laying in bed with him, Draco had always appeared to have been trying to conceal it from her, and she had never dared mention it. Seeing the mark on his arm had always reminded Hermione of her own betrayal, how she was in love with someone that her best friends and the people closest to her considered the enemy. It reminded her of the evil that had once walked the earth, and how a small percentage of that evil had still lived on, and to this day were planning more devastation.

But everytime Hermione looked into his eyes, his piercing, devastatingly beautiful, grey eyes, she felt safe and loved, but lost also. She saw the complete devotion he had for her, and the pure passion that rose like flames. She saw the protectiveness, the will he had to do anything for her, even if it meant costing him his life. But the loss of each and every part of her self control was what left Hermione struggling, unable to think for herself. She had never encountered an emotion as overwhelming and empowering as this. It felt dangerous, but so safe, uncontrollable and wrong, yet so right. With Ron it had been a comfortable, friendly love, a love that she seemed content with. But there was no passion, no spark, nothing that left her head spinning and her brain unable to control her thoughts. She felt Draco understood her like no other had understood her before, he could tell when she was sad by her expression, he actually seemed to understand her passion for books and learning, and always listened to her, looking fascinated by everything she had to say. She knew how she felt was wrong, so very wrong and against the rules, but she couldn't stop it, she couldn't bring herself to end something that had her waking up every day with a smile, and ending every evening in complete comfort and happiness.

Walking along side the lake, Hermione looked up at the building she'd considered her home for eight years. Even though she'd spent so long there, she was still left breathless by it's beauty. She loved the magical staircases, the towers, the old wooden doors. It was the sort of place she'd spent her childhood dreaming about. She remembered being jealous of the friends she had known, the ones that had gone off to boarding schools when they were little, wishing she could go to a school in an old castle somewhere. As a group of first years nearby shrieked with laughter and jolted her out of her daydream, she sighed, deciding it was probably a good idea to get back to the common room, and wondered if Draco would already be there.

Walking slowly back to the common room, Hermione prayed she would not bump into Harry, Ron or even Ginny. After the day she'd had, she just wanted to see Draco, spend an hour alone with him before heading off to patrol. As she entered the common room, she was pleasantly surprised to spy Draco hunched over at the table, quill in hand and forehead slightly furrowed in concentration as he worked. He looked up curiously at the noise that had interrupted his writing, and his face broke into a small, yet satisfied smile.

'There you are. I was wondering where you'd got to.'

'I just took a walk. Needed to clear my head.'

Draco frowned, looking concerned. 'Is everything okay?'

'Just Ron being Ron.' She sighed.

He sneered. 'Trust Weasley.'

'Draco...'

'Sorry.' He muttered.

'You're going to have to learn to accept them, you know. They're my friends, and if you want me in your life then they're included.'

'Like you're going to accept Theo and Blaise?' Draco smirked.

'That's different.'

'How so?'

'Well, they think I'm scum and want me and my kind dead. My friends..well they think you're scum but they don't want you dead.'

'How kind of them.' He said sarcastically.

'Draco, please.' She stared at him with wide eyes.

He studied her for a second and then sighed. 'Fine. I'll be nice to them. But only after all this business with my father is hopefully over with. Until then no one can know about us, and I certainly can't become best friends with Potter.'

'Thank you.' She sighed gratefully.

'Will you make an effort with my friends then?'

'Only if they change their minds about wanting me dead.' She gave him a small smile.

'They won't want you dead, not after I've spoken to them.'

'Won't they want you dead then? You know, for mixing with 'Mudbloods'?'

'I can deal with them.'

'Hmmm.' She looked unsure.

'I can.'

'Okay.'

He smiled at her as she played with a strand of her hair.

'What?' She frowned.

'I've missed you.'

She tilted her head to one side looking amused.

'What?' It was Draco's turn to be confused.

'It's just...who knew Draco Malfoy had such a gentle, romantic side underneath all the sneering and breaking girl's hearts.'

'He got one when he found the right person.' He was staring at her, and Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine at his intense gaze.

'Well I like this side to you.'

'I do too.' He whispered, and leaned in to kiss her. She felt herself weaken at his touch, and her head was spinning as it always did at his presence.

'You know, my work can wait...' Draco said as he leant in to kiss her again.

She sighed, breaking the kiss reluctantly. 'I can't. I have to finish my Charms essay and have something to eat before patrolling.'

'You're such a goody two shoes!'

'No, I want to get good grades and do my job properly as Head Girl. In case you hadn't noticed Draco, we have exams in 6 months time.' She said sternly.

'Yeah, I had noticed, I just chose to ignore it.' He grinned.

'That won't get you anywhere! You're one of the brightest students in our year, why aren't you taking it more seriously?'

'I'm the brightest student. Along with you of course.' He smirked as Hermione's eyes widened in surprise.

'What?'

'McGonagall told me at the start of the year. You and I, Hermione, are the two brightest. Why do you think we were picked as Heads?'

'Well, I thought it was something to do with House Unity or something.' She muttered.

'Wrong.' His eyes were sparkling in amusement.

Hermione stared down at her hands. Draco as bright as her?

'Something wrong?' His voice broke into her thoughts.

'Why have you never shown it?'

'Shown what?'

'Your intelligence. You just seemed to always be intent on making people's lives hell. But come to think of it..you're always reading! You have as many books as me!'

Draco sighed. 'It's just something I've liked to keep to myself. My father always disapproved of my reading, he preferred me to well, 'make people's lives hell.' He smiled at her slightly before continuing. 'And the other Slytherins were the same. Apart from Blaise, he's bright too.'

Hermione found herself staring at him, slightly astonished at his revelation. 'You, Draco Malfoy, are full of surprises.'

'Let me guess, I've gone up even more in your estimations now you know I like to read?' He looked amused.

'You're already up high, Draco. And you shouldn't be ashamed, or feel you have to hide the fact you're intelligent and like to read. I think it's pretty amazing. And quite charming.' She smiled at him tenderly.

'You do?'

'I do. Ohhh I've just thought of something!' Hermione took his hand excitedly.

'Do I want to know?' He looked slightly apprehensive.

'We can compare books! I have loads I'm sure you haven't read! Ah this is so exciting!' She squealed standing up.

'You, Hermione Granger, are mental.' He said and took her in his arms, holding her close and kissing the top of her head affectionately.

Draco

Draco sighed in relief as he put his quill down, finally finished with the essay for Professor Sprout he'd spent almost 2 hours writing. He stretched, looking out of the window, surprised when he discovered thick, fluffy snowflakes were falling steadily, and the castle grounds were now covered by a thick blanket of white. He smiled to himself slightly when he looked at the pile of books in front of him that Hermione insisted he looked at before she'd left for patrolling. The truth was that he'd already read them all, but didn't have the heart to tell her, or the appetite, seeing as it took her about 15 minutes to select them all and she insisted on shoving one under Draco's nose every 5 seconds.

Being in love with Hermione Granger was certainly something he wasn't used to, and he didn't think he would ever get his head around it. He would forever regret the years he spent loathing her, and he would always resent his father for making him that way, for brain washing him into believing all muggle borns were poison. Hermione Granger was indeed poison, but an amazing, forbidden feeling poison that Draco couldn't resist, a poison that was good for him. It was frustrating, so frustrating how she had the power to stop his heart at every look she gave him, how she could brighten up the darkest of days just by smiling at him, and how she had the power to stop his brain from thinking straight, every thought escaping his mind and leaving him completely overwhelmed by his uncontrollable love for her.

The past few weeks Draco had spent with Hermione had been the happiest of his life. He cherished every single second he had with her, and every night as she slept, he would fall asleep with her, comforted by the sound of her soft breathing. He knew what he was doing was dangerous, if his father, or anyone for that matter found out what was going on, him and particularly Hermione would be in great danger. But he couldn't bring himself to leave her, he'd had the same argument with himself over and over again, his heart always winning over his head. For she was his life. If he didn't have her there would be no reason for his heart to beat, no reason for the blood to run through his veins.

Draco's thoughts were interrupted as he heard a large tap from the window next to him. Opening the window and flinching slightly as the cold air blew it's way in, he allowed the owl to enter. Recognising the owl as his father's, Draco felt slightly queasy as he opened the roll of parchment.

Draco,

I hope you returned to school safely, and I trust you are keeping a close eye on those we spoke about. If you hear of anything that you believe useful, kindly send me an owl. I'm trusting you with this son, please do not let me down.

He could hear his father's voice as he read the last sentence, picture his threatening smile. He tossed the letter into the fire, throwning himself down onto the sofa. He was afraid of his father, he had been his whole life, even when he was little he'd done his very best to make him happy, terrified of what would happen if he disappointed him. He remembered when he was only 8 years old, and he'd been sat in his bedroom reading an old, rusty book he'd found in the library. His father had entered, and when he'd discovered Draco propped up against his pillows and his nose in a book, he'd walked over and swiftly snatched the book from his hands.

'What's the use in reading this rubbish? You need to learn how to do proper magic, come with me.' He'd grabbed Draco's hands, leading him out into the garden to practise hexing the gnomes, smiling broadly at his son each time he perfected one. Draco had hated it, he'd hated harming them, but as time went by and Lucius' words slowly poisoned his mind, his opinion changed. He was taught that all muggle born witches and wizards were dirty, and didn't deserve a place in the wizarding world, that Albus Dumbledore was a fool, and he was just as bad as the muggle borns for allowing them into his school. And he also learnt about Lord Voldemort. Aside from believing Voldemort's views and actions were right, Draco was terrified of the thought of him, and his fear increased every time Lucius would claim that he'd return one day. Once Draco was accepted into Hogwarts and sorted into Slytherin house, Lucius was thrilled with his son, and Draco finally felt that he'd made his father proud. But there were still times where he feared him. Every time he was caught reading, Lucius would give him the same sneering, disapproving look. And when he failed to kill Dumbledore, Draco was sure his father would disown him, banish him from his life. When Lucius had been sent to Azkaban, Draco had been relieved, so relieved that he was finally free and that maybe he could start a new life for himself. He still couldn't stand the muggle borns and Potter and his Weasel sidekick, but he did want a fresh start. Falling in love with Hermione Granger, a muggle born witch he'd spent 7 years detesting was not planned at all, but he had never been happier.

As the bell on the clock nearby started chiming, Draco was jolted out of his thoughts. Looking at the time, he was bewildered when he discovered it was half past twelve.

'Hermione should be back by now..' A small voice said in the back of his mind. Draco shook his head, telling himself he was just worrying for no reason, that she had probably had trouble with some students out of bed and she'd be back in the next ten minutes still excitedly babbling on about books and authors. He had a shower and got into bed, the whole time trying to push the anxiety out of his head that was steadily growing. He tried desperately to concentrate on the book he was reading, but the words kept swirling around the page, and he found himself re reading the same sentences over and over.

When Draco heard the clock downstairs chime at one, he knew something was up. He got out of bed, hurridly pulling some clothes on and leaving the common room.

'Lumos!' Ignoring the outraged cries from the portraits on the walls at the sudden interruption of their sleep, Draco lit up his wand. He made his way to the ground floor, deciding to start from the bottom and make his way up.

'This is crazy..' He muttered to himself, starting to wonder if the significant amount of love and protection he felt for Hermione was actually sending him mad. Opening the door to the fourth floor corridor, he was met with two third year Hufflepuff students kissing on one of the benches. As the girl noticed his presence, her eyes widened in shock and she quickly stood up, cheeks flaming red in embarrassment and squeaking. 'Sorry!' As she ran past him. The boy gave Draco a frightened look as he stared angrily at him.

'I suggest you get to bed.' He snarled.

'I will, s,sorry.' The boy mumbled quickly, he too a deep shade of red, and he hurridly ran out of the door, slamming it with a loud bang.

Draco rolled his eyes in annoyance. 'Pathetic Hufflepuffs.' He muttered.

He carried on along the corridor, and he couldn't deny the feeling that something was definitely not right when there was still no sign of her. As he entered the sixth floor, he sighed as he found it was empty. He was about to turn around and give up, when he heard a strange, whimpering sound coming from the end of the corridor.

'What the...' He frowned, and made his way towards the direction of the sound. As he moved closer, he noticed a shape huddled in the dark corner of the corridor. Pointing his wand at the darkness, he gasped as he discovered that it was indeed a body laying hunched up on the cold floor, and as they turned their tear stained face towards him, his blood ran cold as he discovered it was indeed Hermione. And it ran colder still when he noticed the floor in front of him was stained in deep red.

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