Disclaimer: Lemme check… nope, still not mine. JKR still rules the hp universe. Dang.

A/N: Well, this was written on the spur of the moment. Seriously. It's a sort of sequel to Classmates. The summer after Hermione's thoughts in class, she's thinking at home. (Dangerous pastime… =P) A D/Hr in a AU. Because I write fanfic and say so.

She shouldn't be doing this. It was summer, the time to be carefree and joyous and live a little. Be a teenager. Forget the world and school and problems. It was the season of visits to the beach, vacations to unknown parts of the globe, chatting among family, hanging out with friends, relaxing at home, and enjoying the sun.

Yet, here she was, sitting in her room, leaned up against her bed frame, knees tucked in front of her, hands fondling her wand, eyes staring off into space, as she did what she was definitely not supposed to do.

As she thought about him.

She couldn't help but fall back into the memories of classes together. Classes in the past where striking insults and angry threats and occasional hexes were thrown idly across the room, where piercing glares relentlessly attacked and furious demands purposely ignored.

And then the more recent classes where things were drastically different. Those classes where he stopped being so evil and just became another person, another classmate. Still, they had argued and bantered and glared at each other countless times, but somehow, even the insults and glares were different. Not as sharp, not as… real. Almost fake. Almost like shallow walls built to veil the complete meaning behind his words, but let her see just enough to know there was more to what he said than their face value. At times, she had delighted in watching his eyes sparkle as he insulted her. Was that wrong of her?

She had lost herself in class while staring at his silky hair, wondering what it would feel like to run her fingers through it, just once. She had waited and waited some days, just to hear his voice, sometimes provoking him into insulting her just so she could listen to him speak. She had anxiously looked forward to the challenge of making him smile one of those gentle smiles, her favorite kind that lit up his face, the ones that she would want until she got, and then have to turn away to avoid smiling back. Sometimes it wouldn't work, and her face would show its own small smile. Occasionally, they would just look at each other after one of those occasions, content with the world for just a mere moment, before one would turn away and return to their class work.

She shook her head and forced her head to think other thoughts, to not dwell on the one subject that kept reappearing in her head again and again. But it was unless. She would think of something else, but that would spur a chain of thoughts that led right back to what she was not supposed to be doing.

Thinking about him

Missing him.

A/N: Sooooooooo… what do you think??