A/N: Kay, so I've had this random idea stuck in my head. This may or may not continue. Depends on feedback, really.

Also I'm insanely sorry to all of my IHYIRD readers; that story is suffering from major writer's block, so I popped out this short one-shot type story thing to get my mind writing something Dramione related.

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Hermione Jean Granger was very steadily losing all of her patience. One could even say that she was patiently awaiting the day that she had no patience left. It was all Draco Malfoy's fault, and she desperately wanted to slap him again. Sadly, she didn't condone violence. Also he was likely to go off and take a hundred points from Gryffindor if she did so-damn the day he got his Inquisitorial Squad badge-but Hermione liked to think she was better than such violent methods, and that was why she hadn't snapped the ferret in half yet.

Dealing with Umbridge had been dreadful so far, but her main problem was Malfoy. Bloody Malfoy. Hermione noticed sometime in October that her encounters with Malfoy were increasing, however, he wasn't with his bodyguards. And she wasn't with Ron and Harry. It was as if he had tired of annoying three people, and had decided to single her out. She'd even covertly asked her best mates if the Slytherin had been bothering them, and they would only respond with examples of the rare times he provoked the three of them all together. Hermione was getting sick of it; why did he single her out? She wasn't famous-save that gossip article Skeeter had published-and she didn't bother him unless he bothered her first. She needed answers.

Sometime in November, Hermione had decided to borrow the map and stay up late in the library reading. Upon her way back to the dormitories, she spotted Malfoy walking her way. Feeling Gryffindor-ish, she checked the map to make sure it would only be her and Malfoy before sliding it into her pocket and continuing as if she didn't know he was going to appear. Hermione suddenly wondered if he would try to hide so they wouldn't run into each other.

They made eye contact as he appeared from around the corner. Nope, Hermione thought. Malfoy didn't waste time in making her feel uncomfortable as he invaded her personal space, pushing her up against the wall and smirking. Hermione was used to it, however, and sneered back at him with a ferocity that should've made him wet himself. But he just kept on smirking at her, dry as Snape's sense of humor.

"It's not safe for a Mudblood to be out so late all alone," Malfoy whispered in fake worry, narrowing his eyes at her. "It would be a shame if Umbridge caught you and put you in detention for the rest of the year."

Hermione wasn't afraid, and she let him know so. "Do try harder if you wish, but you can't scare me, Malfoy."

His eyebrows shot up. "Oh?" In a flash, Malfoy had grabbed her wand out of the bun in her hair and shoved it into his back pocket, placing his own underneath her chin. "What about now?"

Hermione cursed herself for two things; being foolish enough to put her wand in a place where is was easily accessible to Malfoy, and for not reacting fast enough to defend herself.

Her wand had been the only thing keeping her unruly locks out of her face, and Hermione-for once-was thankful for her hair. It covered her face and hid the initial fear that had crept onto her features. Once she composed herself, after realizing Malfoy was too chicken to do anything to her, she lifted her chin higher and scowled.

"Do your worst, Ferret," she spat, watching in amusement as his nostrils flared. He smirked menacingly.

He got unnervingly close before speaking, his breath moving Hermione's hair to and fro. "Oh, I plan to."

His wand slid up her face, the tip of it tracing her lips. Hermione briefly wondered how much Malfoy would freak if she darted her tongue out and licked it. His other hand came up to her face, hovering a moment in hesitation before placing his thumb on her bottom lip and wrenching her mouth open roughly.

"How would you like your teeth enlarged again, Granger?" Malfoy asked in a whispery voice.

Hermione's eyes narrowed, and in a moment of pure hatred for the boy in front of her, she bit his thumb-hard. Hermione grimaced at the taste of blood in her mouth.

He howled in pain, clutching his thumb in his other hand as he backed away muttering obscenities under his breath. Malfoy hadn't moved back enough for Hermione to escape around him, but that didn't stop her. Hermione took the opportunity to try and sneak her wand from his pocket, but had shoved her hand in the wrong one. Malfoy stopped fussing as he looked to Hermione in surprise, his mouth slightly parted as Hermione's hand lay flat in an awkward area. Both of their cheeks were tinged red.

"What the hell are you doing, Granger?" Malfoy hissed. Hermione mentally slapped herself and withdrew her hand, though she took advantage of Malfoy's awkward frozen-like state to reach further around him to grab her wand before fully retreating. Malfoy jumped when her cheek lay on his chest in the process, even if it was barely for a second.

Hermione held up her wand between his eyes and straightened herself. "Getting my wand, you twat. Kindly back off. I'd like to get as far away from you as possible."

"The feeling is mutual, Mudblood," Malfoy said with little emotion, still too startled to add to their fight. He backed off and headed for the dungeons before Hermione could say anything else, his face still hot.

Hermione shook her head at him and shuddered, hoping against hope that he wouldn't bring this debacle up in future tauntings.

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Hermione was wondering whether or not Malfoy was avoiding her because of the incident, or if he'd simply lost his obsessive need to bother her one-on-one when she was practically attacked before breakfast one day. He had seen her walking down a corridor alone, and deserted his friends to wait around the corner for her.

"Did you lose Scarface and Weasel-be?" Malfoy drawled as he pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on to pursue Hermione.

Hermione turned on her heel to face him, realizing that he wasn't going to leave her alone until he got the row he was looking for.

"Do you always wait around corners for girls," Hermione spat, not knowing what possessed her to do so. "Or am I just special?"

Malfoy's body language screamed aloof, whereas Hermione had hoped he'd been more affected by her remark. She scanned his face as he advanced on her, realizing when her back hit the wall that deep inside his eyes there was this burning irritation trapped within the grey.

"I do have to admit that you're my favorite Mudblood to torture," he drawled, coming to a stop in front of Hermione with a smirk. He placed his hands on the wall on either side of Hermione's head, leaning against it and trapping her. "If that makes you feel-what did you say?-special."

Hermione was glaring at his chest. She just wanted to go to breakfast! Her neck stretched so that she could stare him down. She crossed her arms. "Malfoy, I don't want to fight right now."

He arched one blond eyebrow. "Giving up already?"

Hermione cursed internally. Now she knew she couldn't leave-he was going to count this gratuitous run-in as a win if she left now. Her back teeth ground together.

"Don't you have those two mentally confused bags of fat to boss around or something?" Hermione asked, letting her irritation seep through to her voice.

He smirked at her. "Crabbe and Goyle, you mean? They've gotten themselves a head start on the Great Hall."

Hermione was starting to get uncomfortable with Malfoy's closeness when she noticed a crown-shaped badge pinned to his robes that read, "Weasley is our King."

Malfoy caught her staring. "Would you like one, Granger? I've made extra if you want to bring one to Scarhead, too."

Hermione glared at Malfoy, not liking the tone of his voice one bit. "What are you planning, Malfoy? What do those badges mean?"

Malfoy smirked wider, leaning down until their noses were almost touching. "Wouldn't you like to know, Mudblood?"

Hermione had started to transition from vexed and suspicious to livid and murderous. "If you dare utter another profanity or threaten my friends again, I'll see to it that third year repeats itself."

Malfoy looked only mildly worried. "If you try to lay another hand on me again, I won't stand by and take it this time. Clear, Granger?"

"Sod off, Malfoy," Hermione said with a scowl, shouldering past him when she saw Ginny walk by to accompany the younger girl to breakfast.

Hermione would never say it, but she was thrilled when Harry and George beat the living daylights out of Malfoy after the match that day. But she said nothing to portray her emotions-she wasn't supposed to condone violence, after all.

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"Malfoy encounters" only increased as the year progressed, and Hermione would have started going in pairs everywhere she went if she weren't so bloody stubborn. She was determined to fix her Malfoy problem on her own, and that was that. She didn't even flinch anymore when Malfoy's voice came out from a dark corner, or when her back was unexpectedly slammed into the wall with a pale, pointed face inches from hers. Hermione Granger has adapted to this climate abundant with Malfoy attacks, but that didn't mean that she liked it.

On one particular encounter, Hermione learned that Malfoy doesn't like it when she pokes holes at his appearance and actions. They were on the train away from Hogwarts, and Hermione was planning on how to tell her parents that she was going to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas (really she was going to number 12, Grimmauld Place with the Weasleys and Harry, but they didn't need to know that) when Malfoy had spotted her all alone in a compartment. He gave her a toothy smirk before winking, and was back within five minutes, this time goon-less.

"Did your odor finally make your friends ditch you?" Malfoy asked when he opened the compartment door. He stepped inside, shutting it behind him and closing the blinds. "I owe Pasny five galleons."

Hermione squared her jaw, opting not to tell Malfoy the condition of Mr. Weasley and how he was alive because of Harry's dream. All the Weasley children (and Harry) still in Hogwarts had gotten permission from Dumbledore to see their father in the hospital before term ended.

"You look like you're trying hard not to cry when you sneer, did you know?" Hermione said calmly, extremely pleased with herself when he immediately dropped his sneer and glared hard at her.

"You always look like you've just been struck by lighting with that bush on your head, did you know?" he countered quickly, taking a step closer.

Hermione lifted her chin higher, as if his comment hadn't affected her. "You sound like a constipated troll when you talk."

"You sound like a banshee," Malfoy spat, not stopping his journey to Hermione, "and you look like one."

"You're so pale I can see your veins," Hermione said, tempted to fake a yawn.

"At least my eyes aren't the colour of shit," he said, leering at her from a foot away.

Hermione stood up, crossing her arms over her chest as she did so. "At least I'm not constantly seeking out a girl in my year because offending her is the only thing that makes me feel good about myself."

Malfoy took a deep breath, closing the gap between them to the point that when the train hit a particularly rocky bump, they brushed against each other.

"At least I don't follow around two shit-for-brains morons that only keep me in their presence to do their work all because I have a damn crush on them," Malfoy said in his trademark drawl, appearing to be calm though his fist was clenching and unclenching at his side. Before Hermione knew what she was doing, she had pulled her hand back and let it catapult across his face.

She would have missed Malfoy grabbing her wrists and slamming them into the wall of the train behind her if she had blinked. He was breathing deeply, glaring with a passion. Hermione was having difficulty standing; her legs were pressed against the train bench, causing her back to arch awkwardly in order for her wrists to reach the wall behind her. Malfoy, in his rage, didn't seem to notice that his body was flush against Hermione's.

Hermione noticed, and she didn't like it. They were too close everywhere. The train's need to constantly jiggle everything inside of it wasn't helping to sooth the awkward she was feeling, either. The friction was irritating, and Hermione's face was getting red.

"I told you I wouldn't stand by if you hit me again," Malfoy hissed, going as far as to place his lips a hair away from her ear before speaking. "How would you like-"

"Malfoy," Hermione bit out, unable to take him being so near for any longer. "Are you trying to snog me or torment me?"

His cheek brushed hers as his head shot back to look her in the eye. "What?"

Hermione eyed him like he was stupid and looked down to the non-existent gap between them. Malfoy followed her gaze, and blushed when he, too, seemed to find the friction annoying. He took large steps backwards, hitting the opposite wall with a thunk.

"Don't hit me again, or you'll regret it, Granger," Malfoy said weakly before rushing out.

Hermione stared at the compartment door for a long while, shuddering when she swore she could still feel Malfoy on her.

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Malfoy was starting to make Hermione snap randomly at her friends by February, yet she still refused to include anyone to help get rid of him. She was going to eradicate this vermin by herself, thank you very much.

After delving into the rather uncomfortable memory of the train, Hermione deducted that her best course of action was to make Malfoy feel like an uncouth toerag that wouldn't leave her alone. She inferred that once his ego was destroyed, he'd move on to someone else instead of dogging her all the bloody time.

Hermione had managed to avoid Malfoy for a whole week, but she couldn't evade him in Hogsmeade-what with Ron at Quidditch practice and Harry with Cho. She didn't mind it, actually. She'd been waiting for an opportunity to begin her plan, and the Umbridge-free village was perfect.

The Shrieking Shack was just starting to get boring when Malfoy made himself known from behind her, letting out a long sigh as he leant on one of the wooden posts of the fence.

"Imagining taking Weasley in there and picking out new wallpaper?" Malfoy asked, his pointed face angled slightly in the direction of Hermione, but mostly at the Shrieking Shack.

"What?" Hermione said boredly, not turning to face him.

"Oh, sorry," Malfoy said, not sounding very sorry at all. "I didn't know you wouldn't be able to afford new wallpaper."

Hermione exhaled a silent puff of air before making her response. "This is all getting quite repetitive, isn't it?"

Malfoy turned to look fully at Hermione, a questionable look on his face. "What's repetitive?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, still facing the shack. "I can't so much as breathe in peace without you running up and making a jibe at me for it."

She waited for him to open his mouth before continuing. "It's all really quite monotonous. The spark is gone, Malfoy." Hermione nearly laughed out loud at the expression she caught on Malfoy's face from the corner of her eye. "We're going to have to end this."

"What the bloody devil are you going on about?" Malfoy spat after a few seconds of nothing.

Hermione finally turned to face him, placing a look of false sadness on her face before she did so. "I can't keep fighting with a bloke that's using the same insult from second year and doesn't know what a personal boundary is." Hermione thought a moment. "Especially when you combine the latter with bad breath." She shuddered.

Malfoy's face was turning red. "Granger, you ignorant Mudblood-"

"Oh, there you go again with that overused insult!" Hermione exclaimed in fake agony. "I can't take it anymore! I think I'll vomit if I hear it again."

Malfoy was starting to look thoroughly complexed. He narrowed his eyes, stepping closer to Hermione and scowling. "Look, Granger, I don't know what the bloody-"

"And now you're invading my personal space!" Hermione said, pinching her nose. "It's as if you didn't hear a thing of what I said earlier."

Malfoy's cheeks went pink. "My breath doesn't stink."

"Look Malfoy," Hermione said, placing a hand on his shoulder that immediately got thrown off. "I know that your two gorilla-like-boyfriends like your breath just fine, but for the sake of the rest of the population, buy a pack of mints."

Malfoy had visibly gotten angrier than Hermione had ever seen Ron, and to be honest, the tiniest sliver of fear had etched itself into her heart.

He harshly bit his lip before speaking, inhaling with wide nostrils as he did so. "So you think I'm gay for those imbeciles I call friends?"

Hermione vaguely thought to point out the fact that he just deemed himself friendless. "Oh, I'm sorry." Hermione parroted Malfoy's tone from earlier. "I didn't know that you weren't ready to come out. I'll keep your secret safe, though. You three lovebirds deserve your privacy."

Hermione had reached up to pat a narrow-eyed, motionless Malfoy's cheek after she spoke, but he had grabbed her wrist before she made contact and pulled her body roughly towards his own. Malfoy then slammed his mouth over hers, shooting his tongue between her gaping lips and dragging it against her top lip when he pulled away.

"How was that for gay?" Malfoy panted with an open-mouthed, wolf-like smile, still clutching Hermione's wrist so tightly she thought the circulation might be cut off. Hermione could do nothing but stare at him with an unhinged jaw until the realization of what he'd just done hit him.

"Oh Merlin," Malfoy disgustedly breathed, throwing away Hermione's hand like it would form a mind of its own and bite him.

They both stared at each other in horror for precisely thirty seconds. "You tell no one."

"Like I'd want to," Hermione hissed. "Same applies for you."

He nodded thickly before running away, leaving Hermione to clear her head and calm down enough to momentarily forget Malfoy. She had to find Skeeter and Luna; that article wasn't going to write itself.

It dawned on Hermione twenty minutes later that Draco Malfoy had kissed her on Valentine's Day.

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They avoided each other for a whole month after that; going as far as turning around and going the direction they had come if they spotted each other alone. Slowly, they seemed to come to a silent agreement that what happened on Valentine's Day never happened. Even slower, much to Hermione's disdain, they started to fall back into their regular routine of one-on-one taunting. Hermione had been sure she'd scared him off effectively, but he was too stubborn for that.

The taunting had reached levels unheard of, and Hermione feared a climax was soon approaching. It was April Fool's Day, and Malfoy had written Hermione a love letter.

She had been walking back to the Gryffindor Commons to finish the book she just got from the library when a pink note fluttered onto it, disrupting her reading. Perplexed, Hermione gingerly picked it up, sliding her book under the crook of her arm as she did so. She looked around her surroundings twice before opening it.

Heart shaped confetti exploded into her face. After coughing out a few that had found their way into her mouth, she began to read it. Several lines made Hermione blink and reread them to make sure they were real. "A sigh never fails to leave my lungs when your hand flies into the air, knowledge soon to flow out your lips," was one. The most extravagant one, however, was the last sentence. "My love, more abundant than the many curls upon your head, soars higher than a snitch," it read.

Nearly dead from laughter, Hermione was jolted sober when a pair of arms roughly encircled her waist.

"Hermione dear," Malfoy drawled into her ear, his smirk almost present in his tone. "You injure my heart with your mockery. I might have to keep your present."

"Oh?" Hermione said, trying and failing to remove his arms from her person. "If it's another curse, you can keep it. Remember last week and the Jelly-Legs Jinx incident?"

Malfoy stiffened slightly at the memory. "No, but how I wish you'd fall into my arms more often!"

His tone suggested otherwise.

"I hope it's a crowbar then," Hermione muttered, pinching at Malfoy's arm.

"What was that?" Malfoy whispered into her ear, his nose brushing against her neck.

"Just give me the present and leave, won't you?"

Malfoy, to Hermione's relief, stepped back to place a hand over his heart. She was tired of inhaling his patented Rich Spoiled Brat cologne.

"Do you not wish to be within my presence as much as I do?"

Hermione scoffed. "Trust me Malfoy, I think we both know how we feel about the other and how mutual it is."

Malfoy's smirk grew. "Then you won't mind me giving you your present?"

"Go ahead," Hermione said boredly, "though I'd appreciate it if you jinxed me closer to the hospital wing."

Malfoy's face suddenly turned serious, and he advanced towards Hermione. She had to use all of her willpower not to back away.

"I really do mean all that," Malfoy said, nodding to his letter. He gently brushed Hermione's hair behind her ear so he could more properly whisper into it. "I think we'd be fantastic together."

Hermione stiffened when his lips hovered down her jawline, aligning themselves over hers but not touching.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Hermione hissed quietly, careful to lean her head back a bit so their lips didn't brush together when she spoke.

"Giving you your gift," Malfoy said, putting his hand behind her head to apply a bit of pressure to convince her mouth to meet his.

Hermione opened her mouth wide to object, and that was when his other hand came up to poor something in it. Hermione coughed and slapped away Malfoy, who was laughing.

"Was it I who caused that burning yearning within you? Oops," he said with a shrug, lifting Hermione's chin with his forefinger.

"That didn't do anything, Malfoy," Hermione said after checking herself for pain.

He smiled. "I almost forgot." He swiped his thumb over her bottom lip, the tip of it touching her tongue. Hermione's throat immediately started to burn, her eyes watering to the point where she could barely see. Steam was most definitely coming out her ears.

"April Fool's, Granger," Malfoy said with a smirk. "Three guesses to how it goes away."

Hermione could guess quite well how something instigated by Malfoy's skin would be soothed.

"How-" Hermione bit her tongue in hopes of soothing the pain. "Did-you-" Hermione couldn't finish her sentence, but Malfoy had caught on.

"I developed it myself. I have quite a knack for potions."

Hermione was suddenly angry. He had deliberately made something that forced contact between them. Why had he chosen to taunt her in such an odd way? She had thought that he felt the same about their previous awkward kiss.

Hermione, pissed beyond belief, chose to end her suffering without directly giving Malfoy what he wanted. She cupped the back of his neck and yanked it towards herself, taking a good, long lick. She then bit him as hard as she could. The burning ceased, and Hermione was pleased to hear Malfoy howling as she left, throwing a crumpled up love letter in his face.

He didn't bother her for a while after that, but like everything else, he pretended it never happened and continued to taunt her.

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It had become the last day of fifth year already, and a rough plan was etching itself into the bushy-haired bookworm's brain; she was going to ignore him. If this didn't work, Hermione would be forced to use violence. Unfortunately.

Hermione's breath hitched in her throat when she turned into a desolate corner at the same time as Malfoy had, though he was at the other end. He smiled wickedly when he saw her, his step size increasing the slightest, Hermione noted.

Hermione set her shoulders back, looked at a point just past Malfoy's ear, and didn't even flinch when he called her obscenities.

"What are you doing out here all alone, Mudblood?" he drawled, the slightest scrunch of his eyebrows letting Hermione know that he was confused at her behavior.

She didn't respond, causing Malfoy to narrow his eyes. When their paths intersected, he pushed her against the wall and used his arms as barriers so that she couldn't escape easily. Hermione eyed his left arm, calculating her chances of ducking underneath it. She relaxed against the wall after she realized her chances were slim, leaning on it almost nonchalantly. Malfoy's confusion was morphing into frustration very quickly.

"Cat got your tongue? That beast of yours chew it off?" he goaded. Hermione wasn't fazed.

Malfoy's jaw clenched and unclenched. "Oh, sorry. Maybe that ginger idiot beat the cat to it."

More silence passed. He wrapped a curl around his finger rubbed it with his thumb before pulling hard. "How much does this thing weigh? I'm surprised you don't get a brace so your neck doesn't snap in half."

Hermione counted thirty seconds in her head. Malfoy pounded his fist on the wall, frighteningly close to Hermione's ear. She barely jumped.

"You fucking answer me when I talk to you," he growled. Hermione's face was blank as she stared at his shoulder, basking in the anger she was causing him by simply doing nothing. Inwardly, she was smiling brightly.

"What the hell-look at me," Malfoy hissed through his teeth. Hermione lazily glided her eyes up to his face. She didn't make eye contact, didn't even angle her head. The only thing she could possibly see was his chin and lower lip. Damn his height, though it worked to her advantage today.

He had started talking again, and Hermione vaguely registered what he was saying. Something about Mudbloods being too incompetent to function correctly seven days out of the week. The insults didn't matter to Hermione; she was oddly transfixed on his lower lip, amazed by the amount of venom she could detect from seeing so little an amount of a person's face. Malfoy had finally finished ranting, and was sending little hot pants into Hermione's hairline.

Hermione nearly cracked a smile before she spoke. "Are you done?"

Malfoy groaned in frustration, grabbing Hermione's chin and shoving her face upward so they could make eye contact. Hermione was so startled that she allowed shock to play on her face, her lips slightly parted as her eyes darted over Malfoy's face.

They were much too close; Hermione could smell his breath. It wasn't repulsive like she'd said on Valentine's Day. His eyes shut tight before they ripped open, and Hermione was suddenly afraid. She'd never seen him look at her like that before. New was scary, after all.

His face crashed down on hers before she could register what was going on, their noses side by side and foreheads touching. Hermione's breath involuntarily grew labored as she stood frozen, wondering what the hell Malfoy was doing. Hermione felt their foreheads separate, but she couldn't be relieved, for their noses were still touching, which meant that soon their mouths would be, too.

The first thing Malfoy did was bite Hermione's lip, moaning as he did. His tongue came out and swiped against it, appalling Hermione in the sense that she wanted him to do it again.

For that reason, Hermione didn't stop him. The friction from the train came back to her, and Hermione suddenly wanted to feel that again. She rested her arms on his shoulders and clasped her hands behind his head, opening her mouth when he bit her lip harder and growled. He slid his tongue down her throat, and Hermione swore she felt him smirk as he did so. One of his hands was lost in her hair, and the other was up her shirt. Malfoy had started biting and licking the skin covering Hermione's throat, and she could feel him smirking against her every time she made a noise.

"Granger," he rumbled into the crook of her neck, causing Hermione to shiver and bite her lip. She knew then that she would never hear her name the same when he spoke it. "Say my name, Granger."

Hermione was very tempted to whisper an obscenity, but her stomach was fluttering, and she didn't want him to stop what he was doing. "Draco," Hermione breathed out, raking her nails down his back from under his shirt. He hissed, and straightened up enough to lock eyes.

"What are we doing?" he muttered, the question not sounding like a question at all. He started kissing her again, not waiting for a reply.

When they finally broke for air, Hermione said, "It's called snogging."

Malfoy laughed at that, but stopped short when footsteps filled their ears. For a moment they stared at each other, fear consuming them, but the next they were gone the same way they had came. Hermione desperately wanted to look back at Malfoy's retreating figure, but forced herself to look straight ahead, once again playing the part of the apathetic teen who wanted nothing to do with Draco Malfoy.

Oh, how wrong that was. Subconsciously, a seed had been implanted inside Hermione. A seed that wouldn't grow unless more contact was made, yet burned in an impossibly painful way until such a thing happened.

During the farewell feast, Hermione was painfully aware of Malfoy's burning gaze. She sighed, confusion overtaking her senses when half of her mind screamed at her to forget what happened and avoid Malfoy at all costs, and when the other half wanted the exact opposite.

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A/N: Thanks for reading! I might make this into a chapter fic later if I finish IHYIRD. I don't know. Depends on if you guys like it, I guess. So review and let me know; should I continue or not? Until next time,

GG222