A/N: Had this idea swimming around in my mind for a while..this is probably the shortest of my fics till date. Hope you like it! :) This is set in their fourth year.

He walked languidly towards the refreshment table, stared at the wide variety of items that would've beckoned him on any normal day, and sighed. He plucked a single grape. Crushed it between his fingers. Watched the sticky juice flow, and wiped it with the fabric of his expensive robes. Nobody would care about his stupid robes anyway. He was far from being the center of attention tonight. They were all watching them. He picked up a goblet of water and gulped it down in a single go. It did absolutely nothing to curb the prickly heat that had settled deep inside his belly. The action reminded him of the flimsy excuse he had made to Pansy in order to escape. Drinks. Well, he knew she wasn't really expecting him back anyway. They both knew he was too far gone right now. Gone right out of his element.

He smirked as he imagined how the day would probably progress tomorrow. Her hair would be back to bushy, and her smile would be different. Maybe her cheeks would retain some of their colour, and her eyes their sparkle. Alight with the knowledge that she had the boys' attention now. He would make up an insult or two and she would go right back to pretending that he was an inconsequential person in her life, who was simply too much work to actively argue with.

For once in his life, he didn't give a flying fuck about Potter. Or Weasley. Or his own father. Or the nasally-challenged halfbreed who might or might not be dead. To tell the truth, he wouldn't have minded actually being Potter for an hour or two..just for tonight, so he could simply be able to brush past her, watch her, smell her, fully capture that unsymmetrical tilt of her mouth when she smiled. Everything that he should have been able to do without anyone wondering what his deal was.

Still. He was not Potter and he was not Krum. He was Draco Malfoy, a person who would've never seen it coming. The first sight of those two together had been a blow similar to the one he'd received two years ago by the momentum of a Bludger hitting him in the gut over at the Quidditch pitch. She had dolled herself up nicely and clutched his arm as they'd been paraded around like royalty. He had been impressed but then, he'd also been unimpressed. Krum was too...too big. Too old. Too famous.

Who was flaunting who? Granger, an international Quidditch player? Or Krum, a hard-to-get, bookish girl too far above the normal fleet of girls who were lined up for him? Whatever the case, they seemed to be enjoying themselves right now. She was listening to him speaking in his thick Bulgarian accent like he were reciting some sort of interesting Arithmancy formula. Which was saying something because she loved Arithmancy. They were mashed up together, chest to chest, hand in hand, dancing lazily to the slow song that was beginning to grate on his nerves with each passing second. He had long given up trying to look away, because the burn would expand to his throat if he thought too long about his own behaviour towards her. So he had to look back at her face so that he could forget, just for a while, that she was that girl who thought he hated her.

"Making moon eyes from afar never landed anyone a girl, my boy."

He almost jumped out of his skin at the voice. The creepy magical revolving-eye was looking off to the side, while the real one was focused on him.

Professor Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody was the kind of man that his mother had often warned him against. Illicit substance abuse. Fishy personality. Rude, primitive disposition.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He tried to hide his gulp of fear, but both eyes were now focused directly on him now.

"Don't you? I can read your pasty face like a book, kid. You look like a child being denied his favourite candy."

He resisted the urge to step away from his distinct stink of milk turned bad, and stood his ground. He could not, however, control his expression.

"Keep sneering like that and you will really catch her." He grunted sarcastically.

Patting him awkwardly on the back, almost causing him to lose his balance, he moved on to terrify some other target.

Draco heaved in a sigh of relief. Taking another deep breath, he finger-combed his blond hair and straightened his collar.

The pair were walking this way, holding hands and deeply immersed in their own conversation.

He waited.

He watched as they walked right past him, and she didn't once look his way.

He smiled, not caring now, because next time she would notice him. He'll make sure she did.

Please tell me what you thought!