Disclaimer: Anything you recognize that has already been published … I DO NOT OWN. First chapter gives kudos to chicken soup for the soul. I got it from there. Cheers.

DRACO

What can I say? Sometimes I can be a little bit dumb. Imagine me, captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team dating Hermione, a muggle-born witch. As if that isn't bad enough, she just had to be friends with Potty and his Weasel and a Gryffindor and the president of some freaking club called S.P.E.W. Believe me, I never planned to fall for the school brain but I did, as abnormal as it may sound.

She had fired a lot of threats and insults at me dozens of time with The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Annoy-The-Hell-Out-Of-Me and his associate, but somehow when she insulted me without the help of Tweedledum and Tweedledummer, I was just blown away.

"Uh, are you lost? This is a library, the Quidditch pitch is on the other side of the school, remember?" she said enunciating the words like she was talking to a toddler.

Even though we went to the same school, she was a muggle-born witch who spent her time with the Gryffindor losers while I am a pureblood who roamed the school halls like Moses parting the Red Sea of fans who worshipped Quidditch players (particularly me. And Potter too I guess).

I frowned at her and gave her a sneer. "I know this is a library, I'm not as dense as Scarhead and red head. I need a book," I told her self importantly. She pointed to a row of books on Gilderoy Lockhart – definitely not the man I wanted to read about. Before I could glance up to insult her, she was gone.

I, being a Malfoy, needed to have the last say. I caught up to her, she was on her toes reaching for a thick hardbound book that looked like it was published years even before the Dark Lord's reign.

"Need a ladder? Or how about platforms?" I asked, wanting to give her a taste of her own medicine. Unfortunately, that was a rather stupid comeback. I was losing my touch.

"How bout giving me a hand?" she replied, giving me the same stony look only Professor McGonagall and Madame Pince can do. "Oh that's right, books are rectangle and flat, not round like a Snitch. Think you can hold one?"

Cha-ching! The girl really had some guts. I had to admit, I was a bit impressed, standing up to a guy like me and all. But then again, Potter and Weasley did too and I was less than amused. She did look a bit fearsome at first, maybe afraid I'd hex her or whatever cruel thing I was capable of doing, but when I started to laugh, she joined in. Freaky. Granger and Malfoy, laughing at the same thing. How twilight zone can it get?

"I can't believe I said that to you and you actually laughed. This is so surreal," she laughed. "Oh sorry, that's a big word. Want me to fetch you a dictionary?"

And just like that, the ice was broken.

For the rest of the week, all I could think of was her and the – I don't know what to call it, moment maybe? – thing we shared in the library, I'd get the same dizzy feeling I would feel before a Quidditch match.

I found myself taking different routes to get to a class just to see if I would bump into her. And when we did, we wouldn't say a word but the joke was still on going. We'd laugh and give each other mischievous looks.

Two weeks after our secret game, I asked her out. Yes, Draco Malfoy asked out a muggle-born witch or what my father would call a 'mudblood'. Correction: I blackmailed her to a date. I owled her a ransom note stating that if she wanted to see her book of Hogwarts: A History again, she'd better meet me in the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade.

After that first date, we spent nearly every midnight in the Astronomy Tower, sometimes the Forbidden Forest, together talking about anything we felt like talking about. How I hated being judged as a Death Eater in training and why I still haven't lost my virginity. (Yes, I am very much a virgin) We're both were serious in our studies, though she showed it more than I did. We had a knack of feeling more superior over our friends. She did it coz she really was smarter than Potter and Weasley, while I did it coz Crabbe and Goyle were just plain stupid.

We talked about things I would never talk about to any Slytherin or to any of the girls I have ever dated. Then again, Hermione wasn't like anyone I've met before. She was a lot of firsts for me. She was the first girl I didn't judge by her bra size. She was the first girl I've dated who didn't obsess over her hair, her clothes or her weight. And she was the only girl I didn't blab about in the locker room when the guys started bragging about their weekend conquests.

With us spending too much time together, the whole school suspected that something was up. Even the Slytherins, they weren't that dense not to sense that we had something going on. Eventually, father found out about us, he owled me a letter that unless I wanted Hermione to deteriorate into ashes, I stop 'associating' with the, as he put it, mudblood.

I knew that if I told her what really happened, her Gryffindor spirit would kick in and fight for the relationship we had. But she doesn't know my father's strength. So I started avoiding her, hoping she would get the message. She finally cornered me in the hall one day and demanded an explanation. I told her I'd meet her in the library after classes but I didn't show up.

Breakfast the next day in the Great Hall, she yelled at me and called me all kinds of names. I wanted to explain but I couldn't, her life was too valuable for me to place at risk. If I continued whatever relationship we had going on, father would have her killed.

That day, the last I ever saw of her, I pleaded with her through my eyes. I wanted her to know that I loved her. That I fell so deep, I couldn't comprehend it. I always masked my emotions with vacant eyes, but that day I wanted her to see into me. I wanted her see into my soul. I desperately wanted her to understand. But I guess I'll never know for sure.

The next thing I did was the only thing I could do. The only thing I could say …

"Goodbye."