Disclaimer: I don't own. If I did, I wouldn't be playing around with the characters, I'd be meeting Tom Felton ;)
I haven't mentioned names, but it's obviously about Draco and Hermione. This is also substituting as an English piece, hehe.

Three Words, Eight Letters, One Lifetime.

zzzooe, Copyright 2010.

I can barely remember when it started; it was so many years ago. It was the first day, and even then we instantly had our differences. We argued, a few insults were thrown, and we both walked away with a new enemy, anger throbbing in our veins.

Back then, it was just raw, dramatic arguments, nothing attached, no hidden feelings. It was like that for a while; we'd meet in the hallways with scowls at the ready and our immature words the only weapons we chose. It was so simple back then, before something formed between us.

I can never actually pinpoint the exact moment it changed, but I remember after a particular meeting in third year when I got so riled up that I punched you in the face, I walked away with a slight smile on my face. I was sure that it was because I had finally triumphed over you, that I had the last say. But I was wrong, something which didn't happen much. I had formed an attachment with you, which was so, so wrong and yet so, so right.

And so it evolved, our taunts becoming more relaxed, even in a joking form rather than insults. To anyone but us it wouldn't seem any different that normal. But then again, not many paid close attention to our encounters anymore, since they had become a part of a strict regime.

One person paid notice, though, and that was our downfall. The rumour spread like wildfire, we were treating each other like friends! It was such a scandal, our friends instantly were on the defensive, and our shaky progression crumbled into dust, and the dust fell into atoms. We were yet again cold towards each other, and sometimes when I thought at night, I dreamt of what we could've been, what we certainly would've been.

I could see it all, played out like a slideshow in my head, but the pieces didn't fall into place, and I was left with the shattered remnants of my heart wrapped up in a piece of newspaper, my fingers cut and bleeding because of my insistence to clean up the pieces and fix them up. I was so intent towards my goal. I was insufferable, and it worked me up so much that one day, I just collapsed in a dark alcove, crying all the tears that could squeeze from my eyes. I was sorry for all I had done, and I wanted to tell you that. But something kept me from it and I still don't know what.

A whole year later, and we had changed from the fall out of the big incident. I was more subdued, I wasn't my bubbly old self who hadn't a care in the world. You were less arrogant, just tending to keep your head down and do what you were told, sticking to your cronies who were nothing but walking sticks, you could lean on them and they were only there to help you along.

I thought of you as two distinct things, two things that would eventually enfold and merge together, blending like dyes on wet paper, the colour seeping together until you cannot distinguish the difference between the two. The first thing I thought towards you was that you were a cruel, annoying git. You were selfish, which was the complete opposite side of the spectrum, compared to me. It's as if you were black, a seemingly evil person, and I was white, pure and innocent. As time flew by, the white in my life seemed to fade towards grey, whether it was your dark influence or my deteriorating ways, it didn't matter. All that matters was that it all came down to you, the changes in my life.

The second thing I thought you as was judged. Nobody dared come close to you because they thought you were harbouring a disease or something of the sort, that you would bite them or be instantly mean to you. When we had that faint connection, I would see differently of you. When I looked into your startling grey orbs, it's as if they were a window to your soul, only a select few got a view, the feelings just laid out for me to decipher. Sometimes your feelings confused me; you showed a multitude in a small amount of time, as if your feelings changed from compassion, to apology, to shame all in the space of a moment. Maybe it was just that moment that single fleeting moment.

Was I the only one you let in? Was I the singular collector of your feelings, was I the one who you telepathically shared all your secrets with? If I was, I'm truly honoured. I haven't the faintest clue of why you believed that you could trust me, or why you picked me, but you did and I'm thankful.

You were unfairly judged by so many that it hurt, every time I saw it. It would usually happen at the start of each year. The new first years would shy away from you, the rumour mill working overtime between the families and groups of friends. It sent a pang through my heart, because sometimes I saw a flash of hurt or sadness flicker across your face, only for a split second. I think I was the only one who ever saw it, because you never believed anyone did. You were vulnerable on the inside, and you had a hard mask on the outside, so that nobody could penetrate your walls unless you were willing to let them in.

It tortured me, the way our society worked. People judged and were judged, rumours and gossip traveled like the common cold and everybody had a secret that was truly a piece of their soul, and whoever they trusted enough to tell, could either be their comfort, or be their destruction.

It was a purely unbalanced scale, like an uneven house of cards. Someday it would topple, but I'm guessing that it's not anytime soon.

One day, I had enough. I was sick of the society and the prejudice and the stereotypes. I walked straight up to you in the cafeteria at lunch, pulled you up from your seat by the tie, and with the entire school watching my every move; I kissed you, pouring my emotion into that passionate contact with each other. Through that single kiss I told you I was sorry, and that I wanted to make things right. You didn't kiss me back and I let go of you, spinning on my heels and striding out of the room, the voices and noise springing back into action as soon as my footsteps fading, as the shock and humour of the situation wore off.

Everybody was equally surprised when you followed after me, your cautious walk breaking into a sprint, as if you were running for your life. But you weren't running for your life, you were running for mine. I was teetering at the edge of a chasm, the darkness swallowing up the bottom, only an inky pit of despair visible from the top. Every wrong action I made moved me closer to the edge, and I was about to take that last step, fully knowing that I would never survive the fall, social suicide in every meaning of the word.

I didn't think you were going to follow me; I just thought you would laugh it off with your "chums" and keep going, as if a girl kissing you everyday was a normal occurrence. But you followed me in my time of need and that's when it put everything thing in the right place.

Everything about us was illuminated and our lives came into perfect balance, our connection brought back together by the mere action of joining our hands, it was so simple and yet entirely meaningful.

The as I was about to fall, you grabbed my hands and pulled me into your arms, keeping me from my scary fate. You looked at me, those same grey eyes piercing into me and demanding the answer you needed the most.

Your black and my white had completely mixed now and we were a solid shade of grey, our pattern indistinguishable, merely an indescribable selection of dips, swirls and twists, like a changing roller coaster, signifying our life together, all that we had been through and all that was yet to come for us, because something definitely was.

The answer you demanded was so simple. You asked me to look into my heart, deep down where everything that I was broken over had been buried, and tell me what I felt for him. I thought all this time I was angry and annoyed at him for existing, for changing my life when it could've been so simple. But really, I was hurt over what had happened between us, the differences still not smoothed over, our road bumpy and unfinished.

And when I looked, really looking and not afraid to see the answer, I found it with no problem. If I had looked at a time before this I would not have believed it, but I was put on the spot, and boy did I believe it.

All this time, I knew a passionate emotion was stored deep in my soul, meant for you. I was naïve and I thought it was hate, but really I should've looked closer. You see, there is a very fine line between love and hate, something which I overlooked.

"I love you."

Three words, eight letters and one lifetime behind it, one full significant meaning that would change our path forever, entwining our souls and bringing us together.

His eyes twinkled as if he had known all along, and then he pulled me towards him, reconnecting our lips. When he did that I felt as if I had found my other half; that I was in it for life. I reached my hands behind his neck and pulled him as close to me as the laws of physics would allow. His arms encircled my waist and a warm, ecstatic feeling erupted in my stomach, bubbling through my veins and spreading through my whole body. I was oozing happiness, my heart thumping wildly as I leaned back from the kiss and looked his straight in his eyes again, seeing the feeling I wanted to see just written across his face. I smiled, a euphoric smile that spilled over and turned into a laugh, the sound of a rushing creek echoing through the corridor. He laughed with me, and I breathed in, savouring the moment and imprinting it into my brain, wanting to remember it for the rest of my life.

Love has the power to make or break people. It's the edge that some people have over others, that make them seem happier, or that brings them to life. This love made us the people we are today, and no matter how difficult it was getting here, I wouldn't change it for the world. Something like this is too good to give up, because sometimes we only get one shot at these things, and sometimes one shot is all we really need.

Go on, flame me. I dare you.
Thoughts? Reviews will be greatly appreciated.