What the bloody hell was going on? How had this happened and how was it possible he hadn't even noticed? He could have prevented it from happening. He could have prevented this feeling. He sighed and walked down the stairs, still in only his wife-beater and boxers. It wasn't like he cared. If anything it only would make him more popular with the girls. A frown appeared on his face, darkening his gray eyes. Why did that thought not make him happy? Getting with girls had been the highlight of the last year. The thought of successfully getting a girl that had never intended to go that far into his bed had always made him smile smugly. It had made him feel like his life wasn't entirely worthless. So why did he frown when thinking about it now? Why didn't it make him feel good about himself?

He skipped two stairs at once and ignored the first people walking past him and staring at him in awe. He of course knew what effect he had on people – if anything at least his looks were something he could thank his father for – but it had only come to annoy him. After all none of those people really knew him, they didn't understand him. But they still seemed like they worshiped the earth he was walking on. Not only once did he notice girls giving him a once-over. His frown only became deeper after that. Was is really possible that Hermione saw him as more than just his body?

He shook his head softly and walked down the hallway towards the common room. Maybe she would be in the common room. Part of him wished she would, the other one was far too confused. That part of him dreaded seeing her again, knowing that it would only confuse him more. She was right, he had to sort things out. He needed to.

The common room was empty and he sighed relieved, but at the same time couldn't help wondering where she was. He took a quick shower and dressed into his uniform before he looked at his watch. He was just in time for lunch, but for some reason the mere thought of food made his stomach turn upside-down. Sitting down on his bed he glanced around his room. He could make out a couple of panties on the floor, next to the other things he had just tossed on the floor without ever looking at them again. At Malfoy Manor houselves had always cleaned for him and when he had still lived in the Slytherin dorms he had made other Slytherins clean for him. But this was chaos and he never really had noticed before. He really needed to tidy up his room.

Maybe it had just been a way of procrastinating. The frowned re-appeared on his face. Of course it had been a way of procrastinating. He had never bothered cleaning his room before. But it had turned out to be an activity that left him without any thoughts for at least an hour. But after that the nagging feeling was back and he had to surrender to it. He had to find out what was going on. Why he was feeling this way. Once again he sat down on his bed, letting a snitch he had once stolen fly up a couple of inches before he caught it again.

His mind traveled back to the moments he had shared with Hermione, the first one being when they had been on the couch and he had stolen her book. She had been on top of him, her body pressed on his. He had tried to not let her see how much that had affected him and his body. The softness of her body, the fairness of her skin, the spark in her eyes when she had stared into his. He had let himself drown in her chocolatey eyes for a couple of moments before reality had hit him again. Then thoughts of his father had rushed through his mind.

He shook his head sadly, catching the snitch as if it was nothing at all. His father would not have approved of him having a moment like that with a mudblood. At all. Draco squinted his eyes. Why did he care so much about what his father would think? He was dead, Draco had killed him. It didn't matter what he would have thought if he was still alive. He wasn't. And it didn't matter. Draco shook his head again and shut his eyes completely, allowing the snitch to fly around in the room. Mirko, Draco's old owl, followed it suspiciously with its eyes.

After that Draco had felt that something had changed for him even though he hadn't admitted it to himself. But then that night in the snow when he had decided to take a walk after Quidditch practice. The snow fight had been surprisingly fun and then somehow he had landed on top of her. He had seen her rosy cheeks, the glowing skin, the frosted lashes and he had lost it. The feeling that he had felt had been completely new to him. He had kissed a lot of girls in his life, so many that he had stopped counting. But it had always just been a way of releasing frustration and sexual tension, not something that had actually made him feel anything. But that kiss had been so pure and sweet, it had made his heart ache.

He accio-ed the snitch back into his hand, too lazy to get up. He had always bullied her, Scarface and Weaselking. Looking back at it he didn't understand why. Sure, his father would have killed him had he befriended them, but he could have just ignored them. He knew that his father hadn't been the only one to blame. He had done it on his own, the bullying and hexing. And if he was honest to himself he knew that it had been a lot about hurt emotions as well. When Potter had first denied his friendship-offer he had been furious. And he had sworn himself he would make Harry Potter's life hell. Of course after a while he had grown up, but the harm had already been done. He had pretended hating the Golden Trio, but he knew that it was just that – a pretense. He didn't hate Harry, he sure didn't hate Hermione, he didn't... well actually he had never been too fond of the Weaselking.

He sighed, not wanting to think about all of it anymore. He got up and let the snitch fly around his room again.

The rest of the day had been surprisingly unsettling for Draco. Sitting in his classes he had been unable to ignore that Hermione was not in the classes she should be having with him. Frustration built up inside of him and increased with every minute that passed by.

He knew the fact that he didn't hear a word the professors said, was bad. But he knew that he couldn't help it. He missed seeing that bushy hair.

Dinner then was the hardest thing for him. He was sitting at the Slytherin table, Blaise across the table of him, telling him some story, but he didn't even listen to him. His eyes lay on a brown bush at the Gryffindor table. Even the back of her head was beautiful. He met Potter's eyes for just a second and lowered his eyes back to his plate.

"Draco, how are things going?" He then heard a voice next to him whisper and looked up surprised.

"The same." He just replied, not really caring about the pretty girl next to him. He felt it when she laid her hands on his arm and stroke him a little, trying to be sexy.

"I was wondering if you have any plans for tonight..." Her voice trailed off and he looked up to her again. She gazed at him from behind her dense lashes and smiled mischievously.

"Listen,..." He started, searching his mind for the right name.

"Natalia." She replied, still trying to sex him up with her smile.

He gulped hard. "Listen, Natalia... I'm not sure if that is a good idea."
"Why not?" She replied sweetly, letting her fingers slide up his arm and down his chest.

He shot a quick glance at the Gryffindor table and met Harry's eyes again. Great.

"Because..." He started, not sure how he should explain. Because he wasn't sure it was the right thing to do? Because he was scared he would hurt Hermione? Because he wasn't in the mood for it?

She looked at him expectantly and let her hand move down his stomach, further and further south.

He gulped again. "Well I'm not sure if it would be fair." He finally stated quickly, trying to not be aroused by her touch.

She leaned forward and her breath tickled his ear as she whispered, "Why not?"

"Because..." He breathed in sharply when her hand moved a little bit under the waistband of his pants.

"Because?" She questioned him cheekily.

What reason was there really? She knew what she was getting into and it wasn't like Hermione and him were dating. There really wasn't any reason why he should turn her down. It was a win-win situation.

"So?" she asked, her fingers steadily moving further downwards.

"Meet me at nine in the Slytherin common room." He replied and turned away from her quickly, before what she was doing under the table was becoming too obvious. He glanced towards the Gryffindor table again, feeling guilty and once again met Potter's eyes. He was eyeing Draco suspiciously, a look that was saying "You better behave." on his face. He was screwed.

A/N: Hey guys,
So I decided to make the story just a liiiiittle bit longer by adding a couple of chapters in Draco's POV... I'm obviously not a guy so I can only jump into his psyche to a pretty shallow amount. The mysteries of the male brain are endless to me. Lol tell me what you think :)

Love,

ShayleeRae