Summer

Author: emptyfirefly

Summary: I miss him most in the summertime. HG/DM, one-shot

Rating: T

Spoilers: I…. why I do believe none of them!!

Warnings: None, except a very unclear plot, and absolutely no clues as to who's talking about what. Groan, the worst kind of story!

Pairings: HG/DM

Disclaimer: Although technically this could be about anything, this is a Harry Potter fanfiction, so this is me assuring you that I claim no copy rights on what is trademarked, but that this story is mine, so back you jerks!!

Random Hermione/Draco story that came into my head the other day. One-shots are so much easier to flesh out than long stories, but never fear my other stories are being worked on…slowly. Anyway, hope you like!

I miss him most in the summertime.

Everyone always assumed he was a winter kind of guy, just looking at those eyes, that hair, he seemed to be the Ice King. But what does 'everyone' know anyway? A big barrel of nothing. I knew better. Or at least I thought I did.

I don't really know why we started dating: it wasn't like we thought about it realistically, it just happened. We started 'bumping' into each other, just around the time we stopped feeling the need to argue incessantly. The day we stopped having something to prove to each other was a turning point for both of us.

It didn't matter to him that I had a boyfriend at home, anymore than it mattered to me that he had been engaged since birth: those sort of things were technicalities saved for people who wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. We were only ever concerned about now.

But anyway, back to the summertime thing. I don't know when I started linking him to warmth, it was never something to do with the 'warmth of his skin' or whatever bullshit other people would harp on about. Warm days reminded me of the kitchens, of mucking around by the lake, waiting for someone to walk by so we could have another sidesplitting argument. The day that our arguments started being fun was another turning point for us.

My boyfriend breaking up with me: that was another major turning point. Mostly because I hadn't seen it particularly coming, and I didn't understand particularly why it had. He didn't know about us, he didn't have a problem with a long-distance relationship… he just didn't want to be with ME. That was a blow to the old pride. I'd never seen anything particularly wrong with me; I might have been a little out-spoken, okay more than a little, about certain topics, but to have the fire just turn off like that… it seemed pretty bizarre. It was only later that I found out that it wasn't that the fire had been turned off… it had just been shifted… to someone else.

Suddenly I was single, or at least I was in everyone else's eyes, and some of the braver smart guys started asking me out. He didn't particularly like that: it was once thing to sneak around a guy that went elsewhere, but a year-mate was another thing entirely. Or so he yelled the one time I accepted an offer. I just chose to point out that his 'fiancé' went to our school also and he would shut up. Funny, how much less important those moments look now.

It didn't surprise me when he broke up with me the summer that followed; there was no reason to suspect we had a reason to stay together, prolonging the inevitable. There was no reason to suspect he loved me either, the opposition was enough to make even the bravest of men run away screaming. So he left, he lied horribly to my face, and then ran away to marry his fiancé.

It wasn't until I was walking through a park one day that summer that I realized that I missed him. That I had probably loved him. The warmth of the sun was the only thing that reminded me of him, or maybe it was the smell of the leaves on the trees. Or maybe it was that feeling I had that I was entirely alone, no matter how many people were around me.

I heard news of him of course. We still had another year of school to go; perhaps the most painful year considering the close quarters we inhabited. He chose to act like nothing had ever happened, and I couldn't say that I really blamed him for it. The year passed by faster than any other, and the next moment I knew I was graduated, and we had left each other's lives.

But I remember summer. I remember the heat on his hair. And sometimes when I'm walking along and I think I see him, my heart-beat quickens for a moment, my heart burning to run after him. To see him.

To find out if he remembers the girl that he never loved.

So, yeah, there you go, quick one, hope you liked! R/R if you want! But if you don't I won't cry... too much! (Good job empty, just enough emotional blackmail to break them all!!! bwhahahahaha!!!!!!!)

Also, fanfiction won't let me put things into Italics at the moment: anyone else having that problem?