The sun was low, setting an deeper, darker sort of coloring to everything. Shadows lengthened, but the sound of the crackling hearth could still be heard, over the panting of his breath. Pale skin glowed with heat, and she felt as if she was glowing too. The bare flesh that touched, the feeling of his lips over her body, it rose a blush that was almost as visable as it felt.

Granger...

His mouth was doing something wicked with her collarbone, pulling the most crazed reactions from her. Hermione had never- except for that one time with Viktor when- His lips trailing up her throat to lav attention on the crook of her neck. Her breathing shuttered, stopped, resumed. It would seem that her entire body was a slave to his every ministration, as if his touch could solve the very questions that plagued her ever insatiable mind. Her nails would leave scratches in his back whenever this was over, she was sure, but there was no time to think of that. There was only the present, only the feeling of him against her.

...Granger...?

There was a slight questioning to his tone now, even as his lips began their distracting trail up her throat. Her name, again. A flush was rising to her face now, as his mouth traced their way down her jawline, hesitating at her chin, nibbling slightly. If he would just lift his head... if he would just...

"MISS GRANGER!"

He was gone. Absolutely and terribly gone. Any evidence of his presence, any anything disappeared in the bright light of the Transfiguration classroom. Autumn sun, bright and quickly dissuading by any lingering thoughts of a sunset, blinded her as she blinked her already open eyes. Honey brown eyes focused for the first time since the notes had began, and she found an irate - and rather concerned - looking Minerva McGonagall. Blinking away all images of him, Hermione gave a small headshake, and focused fully on her professor.

"Yes, Professor?" She asked. Her voice had a slight quiver that she couldn't quite contain. The concern for her wellbeing deepened in the older woman's expression, but the Transfiguration Professor did not deign to ask questions that the girl obviously didn't want to answer. Instead, she repeated the query that had started as a simple transfiguration discussion. Reciting the answer perfectly from her stored memory of the textbook she'd read on the Hogwarts Express, Hermione attempted to relax. There was no one who would notice her lapse. It wasn't like she had gotten on the table and did a tapdance, at any rate. Surely no one cared enough to-

A sidelong glance at the two teenage boys to the right of her, she winced internally. Of course they'd notice. Who was she kidding? They were somewhere between brothers and bodyguards. A sigh, and she tilted her head slightly, indicating that if they had something to say, they had better spit it out.

Harry was the one who spoke first, once McGonagall had settled back into her teaching rhythm. He, at least, had the sense of mind to murmur out of the corner of his mouth, only glancing at her while he pretended to take a peek of her notes.

"You alright?" He asked softly, leaning forward slightly to get a proper look at her around Ron. "You seemed a bit distracted."

"Maybe you should go to Madame Pomfrey." Ron muttered through clenched teeth. His fists were clenched, ears slowly darkening in color as he kept his blue gaze decidedly down at his parchment. "You seemed to be hallucinating."

Unable - or perhaps unwilling - to recognize the emotion in her friend's voice, she simply told a half-truth; her new favorite discovery. If she were to fill a statement with just enough reasonable fact, people tended to believe it. A thesis thus inspected, she decided to try it, just this once, with her two best friends. Technically, it wasn't even lying, not really. It wasn't like they would want the down deep and dirty details anyway. It was just a daydream, for Merlin's sake. Nothing to get them overly concerned about.

"It's nothing quite so drastic." she teased lightly, giving a slight eyeroll so they knew just how un-drastic the whole thing was. "It's just one of those Patented Daydream Charms Fred and George developed. I was given one for free, remember?"

"Oh, right." Harry said, rubbing his hand along the back of his head as his eyes went down to his notes. Ron, beside him, seemed to be steadfastly ignoring them both. Something must have happened while she'd been daydreaming to make him that way, she decided. "That time we followed..." Harry trailed off, emerald eyes dishing a glare to the Slytherin side of the room. Hermione was suddenly very interested in the notes she'd painstakingly copied before this class, to test the charms today.

"Well..." She floundered mentally for a moment, trying to regain her footing in the conversation. "They developed potions, and wanted me to tell them if they worked properly." Offering a small smile, the brunette faltered, blinking around. "Weren't they supposed to last a half hour?"

"That's what the sign said." Ron's voice was gruff, distant, and caused Hermione to stare for a few moments before she could do anything about it. "They must be brilliantly graphic."

A flush, bright red in color, spread like saccharine poison across Hermione's face. "Y-yeah." She murmured, clearing her throat slightly, grasping for the bare remnants of her bookwormish self. "It's a tricky bit of magic, I believe. Perhaps being able to be woken is a step up from the charms."

Ron didn't answer, instead seeming completely invested in the lesson. Any other day she would have been quite impressed, proud even, but today-

Something was different about today.

She found herself lost in thoughts of her daydreams, gaze drifting over her classmates before ducking her head and refocusing on her notes. Harry went back to doodling, and the rest of class passed as thus. No one brought up the potions - and why would they? An experiment was nothing to be anxious about - for the rest of their classes, though Ron seemed distracted during potions, and Harry almost dozed off in History of Magic. It wasn't until the bell rang for lunch, when the three of them were on their way to lunch that Ron seemed to burst.

"What kind of dream was it?" He asked bluntly. His blue eyes swam with indecision, confusion, and subtle, growing anger. "Your daydream today, in McGonagall's class?"

Hermione stopped walking, as did Harry though his was more reluctant. They shared a glance, but that only seemed to infuriate Ron further. "What do you mean?" Her voice was hesitant. Surely he couldn't suspect-

"I mean, what kind was it? A fight? Nightmare?" He faltered slightly, eyes widening as he changed whatever he was thinking to- "Romance?"

"Romance?" Hermione echoed, voice raising incredulously. Harry glanced between the two of them, no doubt wondering the best way to get out of this situation. "What do you mean, romance?"

"Why don't you just tell us what kind of dream it was? Must it be some big secret?" His ears were turning increasingly redder, and his breathing was panting, much like one running a marathon.

"Why do you feel like it's some big secret?" She was getting defensive, some back part of her brain understood that, knew it would be suspicious, but knowing wasn't the same as stopping. If that were true, Voldemort would be dead and gone already.

"I think I left my books-" Harry shifted his weight slightly, before turning tail and heading for the common room. He wasn't running, per say, but Hermione couldn't help but watch him and think 'coward'. Her anger was starting to get out of hand.

Her's was nowhere near the level that Ron's was, however.

"What do you mean, 'why do I think'? Stop answering my questions with more questions and just answer!"

Hermione stopped, taking a deep breath and shaking her head. Fingers ran through her dark brown hair, and she sighed again. "Ron..."

"Just-" He grumbled, looking away from her, down the corridor, as if he couldn't even deign to look at her. "Just say it wasn't a- a romance. Just tell me that. It wasn't, right?" He didn't wait for her answer, he just turned from her, staring down the hallway. "Just tell me that."

"Ron I-"

But that wasn't the answer he was looking for.

"Dammit, Hermione!" He spun, facing her with such a heart-wrenching expression that she couldn't do more than stare. Surely five and a half years of magical education should enable her to- to respond in some way. She swallowed slightly, and shook her head. No. No this wasn't happening. He wasn't walking away from her, he was stalking off to the Great Hall now. He didn't sound desperate. And he definitely hadn't yelled that. The words that were still echoing inside her mind didn't make any sense, so there was no way that he'd- that he'd-

But it had. It had happened. She was standing in the middle of an empty corridor, even as his bright red hair disappeared around the corner. His words had surprised her, on some level as if she'd been slapped. Surely he- he didn't mean-

There was no way she'd whispered "Malfoy".

A/N: Tada! Not to shabby, eh? Anyway, yes, this is the new and improved version. Right where the old one used to be. Any questions, concerns, or whatever, feel free to review! I'll respond as soon as I can :D

Also, updates will be pending, I mean, I already have the first ten chapters, I just have to rewrite them.

BEWARE OF RANDOM NEW AND IMPROVED PLOT TWISTS

also, Blaise Zabini.

~A_V