DISCLAIMER:

I do not own these characters. They are all owned by J. K. Rowling, the only creative control I have is the plot.

Just One Last Thing

One-Shot

Hermione's POV

"I don't understand," I say, shaking my head and setting down my quill. I cross my arms over my chest and lean back in my chair, looking over at him.

"Wow, that's gotta be a first," Malfoy says mockingly. "Something the know-it-all mudblood doesn't understand. We must make a note of it," he doesn't look up from his work as he keeps writing, the sound of his quill scratching gently over his parchment.

"Honestly Malfoy!" I demand as I slam my hands down on the table to force him to look at me. "I have done nothing to you! And you have done nothing but insult me since the moment we first met! Bully me and poke fun at me, why, Malfoy, why do you do that?"

"Boredom," he shrugs as he sets down his quill and meets my gaze, challenging me. "Honestly, mudblood, I haven't got an answer for you. I just do it cause I feel like it," he tells me.

"Because you feel like it?" I ask him disbelievingly. "You are a complete ass! Nobody really likes you, you know. The only reason you have so many friends is because you are a threat to everybody because of how inconveniently powerful and rich your family are. If it weren't for them you'd be a sad, lonely boy, with no one to talk to but yourself."

"You really are something, aren't you?" he asks me, shaking his head. "You just know everything, don't you? Got it all figured out. You ought to write a book."

"I just want to know why," I tell him again. "Honestly, what is your problem, Malfoy? Does it make you feel better to put me down all the time? Does it give you some sick, masochistic self-fulfillment of accomplishment to know you hurt me on a daily basis? Does it make you sleep better at night to know what a mean person you are?"

He lets out a sigh and looks over at me, evaluating me. "You want the truth?" he asks. "You want to know why I do those things to you, why I am such a terrible person to you?"

"That is what I am asking," I plead.

"I like you, Granger," he tells me with a shrug. "So I pretend to hate you so I can hide how I really feel; how I have felt for years."

I am speechless; I can hardly breathe. "You… You…"

"Like you," he tells me again, matter-of-factly with a small smile over his lips.

"You like me? And so you treat me worse than the dirt you walk on?" I ask him. "You child! Did you ever even consider my feelings in all of this? How it would make me feel?"

"You like me too," he says.

"You presumptuous ass!" I shake my head. "How dare you even think such a horrid thing? I couldn't hate you more than I already do, let alone like you in any messed up version of reality. How could I possibly even stand you after the way you have treated me over the past eight years?"

"You've got bite," he tells me as he leans forward across the table. "God, you're so hot. Be my girlfriend."

"How… No!" I tell him, leaning away from him. "Absolutely, no," I tell him, looking down at my lap, studying my fingernails. As hard as I try to fight him, to deny his accusations, I can't help but know the real truth, and that is that he is absolutely and completely right. I look up at him; his smile is hard to not mirror. He is just so handsome that it hurts.

He crosses his arms over the table and drops his head between them, using them as a pillow, looking over at me. "If I apologize for how horrible I have been to you, if I apologize for every moment I have ever cause you pain, will you admit it to me?" he asks, a puppy-dog expression on his face that melts my heart. He reaches his hand across the table, and I set mine on the parchment in front on me. He slowly takes my hand in his, and rubs the back of it with his thumb. "Please?"

"Apologize," I tell him. "And I'll think about it."

A large smile breaks out over his face as he pulls his head away from his arms. "I, Draco Jacob Malfoy, am so sorry, Hermione Jean Granger, for everything horrible I have ever put you through. I promise to you to make it up to you, to give you only happiness and smiles and tenderness, from this day forward, to make you feel like the queen you are, for as long as you will have me," I can't stop the smile that spreads over my lips, as hard as I try to stop it. "Please," he adds, cupping my hand between both of his. "Forgive me?"

I look over at him, unable to stop myself smiling. "Okay," I tell him. His smile widens, displaying perfectly straight, white teeth. "I accept your apology."

"And…?" he adds hopefully.

"And, what?" I ask him, going to pick up my quill.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" he asks.

I look over at him, and down at our hands entwined. "On one condition."

"Anything."

"Call me Hermione," I tell him.

He smiles wider, his eyes brightening. "I promise," he vows.

"Good," I nod. "Now," I add, picking up my quill. "My homework isn't going to get itself done, so let me finish."

He laughs, slowly letting go of my hand. "Just one last thing," he says as he stretches himself across the table, takes my face between his hands, and kisses me.

THE END