A/N: And here is my second offering to you beautiful readers :) I hope you like it, although it's quite unfinished. If any of you have any ideas on how to finish or continue it, by all means let me know, or even continue it on your own, but let me know so I can read it too!

Disclaimer: I am not JKR and Harry Potter and more importantly, Draco Malfoy, are not mine... Oh well...

'Hot damn, Granger, where are you going?' Draco Malfoy looked his roommate up and down, taking in the dark green of her dress, the strappy heels and the overall ravishing picture she presented. Hermione Granger, for her part, looked the perfect mixture of pleased at his reaction and nervousness for the night ahead, innocence and devilishness wrapped up in an elegant emerald silk package. She blushed at Draco's obvious appraisal and walked into the bathroom, leaving the door ajar.

'I told you Malfoy, I have a date,' she put in her earrings and checked her appearance in the mirror. Draco stood leaning against the doorframe.

'A date, huh? First I'm hearing of it,' he tried to sound nonchalant, and not give away the fact that something was currently twisting his insides painfully. The thought of her out with some bloke made something in his ribcage ache. As she opened her mouth to reply, there was a knock on the front door of their shared apartment.

'Shit, he's here! Go open the door, Malfoy!' she pushed the door closed with a heeled foot, effectively leaving Draco to deal with the newcomer. He sighed heavily and went to meet the man that would be taking Granger out. He pulled open the door to reveal a young man, presumably his own age, decent enough, dressed in black dress pants and an expensive looking shirt, an outfit much similar to one Draco might wear. Prat.

'Um, hi, is Hermione in?' The newcomer looked past Draco hopefully. 'So, um, who are you?' His focus came to rest on Draco once more, to which the blonde man scoffed.

'You're standing on my doorstep. I think you owe me and introduction, don't you?' It was then that he noticed the other man has a bouquet of flowers. Roses to be exact. This observation caused Draco to smile inwardly- she hated roses; it was orchids or nothing, and he should know, he had bought a fair few to apologize for various arguments they had had over the ten months they had shared a home. He shook off these thoughts and realized the bastard- erm, nice man, was speaking.

'-met through the Potters. How do you know Hermione?' Draco did not even feign interest in anything this gentleman had to say.

'What was your name again?' The man's smile faded as Draco blatantly ignored his words.

'Michael. Michael Collins.'

'Well, Michael Collins, you should know that Hermione-'he was cut off as the aforementioned lady walked out.

'Michael, hi! This is Draco, my roommate. Oh, you brought flowers! They're lovely, thank you,' she smiled graciously as she passed Draco and took the flowers, leaning in to kiss the dark haired man on the cheek. This made Draco want to slam the door in the chump's face and deposit Granger in the safety of her room. Then, time permitting, beat the fool senseless for wanting to come near her in the first place. All out of roommate-ly concern of course. Once again, Draco was shaken out of his thoughts when he realized that Hermione had invited the filth- that is to say, guest, into the apartment while she found a vase and water. She didn't even like roses. Damn Granger for always being so kind and considerate. Well, except when she interacted with him- then she was all witty remarks and fire, laughter and warmth, which he loved- erm, like. Found endearing? Oh, sod it.

They were leaving now, and she bid him goodbye, telling him not to wait up. Ha, as if he would. He didn't care, he had things to do anyways.

And yet, he found himself lounging on the couch at 10.52pm, waiting up for her. It shouldn't take this long to have dinner and come home. And certainly she wasn't, ahem, indulging in other activities with him, was she? No, he thought firmly, trying in vain to ignore the sudden tightening in his chest at the thought of her out there, with some other man.

No, Granger is a lady. And ladies do not engage in that type of behaviour.

Surely she was just taking a slow walk back with him? A rational part of his mind spoke up.

She could bloody apparate! Where was she?

Well, if you wanted to take her out instead, you should have asked.

I do not want to take her out! I'm just… concerned for her- she is a lady and it is late. I'm a gentleman is all.

Sure buddy, whatever you say.

Draco sat up and shook his head to dispel the ideas his apparently not-so-rational side was bringing up. This was ridiculous. He. Did. Not. Care. He should just get up now and be off to bed. His shoulders slumped. He did care. He wanted her home, with him, not out with some wanker having overpriced, under-aged wine. He had given up his pretence of simply being a good roommate about an hour ago, when he was mapping their date schedule in his mind. He liked her. Merlin help him, Draco Malfoy was falling- had fallen, let's be honest now- for Hermione Granger. And he couldn't do a damn thing about it. He had steadily found himself drawn more and more to her over their time as housemates. At first they had been pulled together out of financial constraints and unwilling acceptance, but now they shared a home they both wanted, that neither needed per say- they both earned enough now to be able to afford a place of their own, and yet here they stayed. Here, in what had evolved from a strained truce to a close friendship. Only Draco wanted more. He wanted more than her friendship, more than this pathetic waiting-up-while-she-was-out-with-some-wanker relationship he currently had. He wanted to be the one she was with. He wanted to be the guy who took her out, who she brought home, who she kissed at the end of the night. He wanted her. All of her. Not just the pale imitation of her he had in this friendship. Draco's expression became distant as he remembered the first time they had considered sharing a flat. It had been at Blaise's housewarming, and seeing his bright, new house and his bright, new life with his fiancée Pansy made both Draco and Hermione realize that they weren't doing so well on their own. Draco had a job at Gringotts as a Curse-Breaker, but it wasn't an average-paying job to say the least. In fact, Draco was relying largely on his inheritance to get by with the same lifestyle he had always enjoyed, and even that was depleting far quicker than he was adding to it. Hermione, on the other hand, had recently been accepted into a St Mungo's Young Healer's program and it took considerable time away from the regular shifts. They both felt it was time for a change of dwelling, Draco because the Manor was too big for him alone and Hermione because she felt like she was intruding on the now engaged Harry and Ginny. And so, once they both got talking, they discussed their options and made an agreement, albeit a slightly hazy and slurred one, to move in together and cut their costs in half. Draco was brought out of his reverie as the clock struck 11. Where the fuck was she? Draco was vaguely aware of a dull thudding which seemed to be his heart pounding in his ears. He stood and crossed to the kitchen, where he poured himself a glass of cold water. Just then, the door clicked open. Draco set about looking casual and masking his slight relief that she was home as Hermione teetered in. She took him in, leaning against the counter with a glass of water.

'Draco,' she stated, plainly surprised he was awake. 'You're up. Hi. Its late, shouldn't you be-?' she raised an eyebrow, while he ignored her entire statement altogether.

'You're late. How was the, ah, date?' he sipped his water neutrally. Can you do that? Sip water neutrally? Draco decided he could: he was a Malfoy, and they did as they pleased. Through this wasn't really the issue at hand.

'It was lovely. Michael took me to this fabulous little French place, and we had a great time. Really fun,' Draco noticed her eyes didn't light up like they did when she talked about things that interested or appealed to her, that her smile didn't seem all that bright. All this left a small flickering spark of hope within him.

'Going out again with Michael?' he spat the name out.

'What?' she looked up at him properly. 'Oh, no, no I don't think so,' she started towards her room.

'I thought it was 'really fun!', what happened to that?' Draco followed her, intent on discovering what prompted her to turn down magnificent Michael.

'He just, wasn't what I was looking for,' she said carefully, avoiding his eyes. Now the small flame flared up into something warm in his chest, smothering the empty ache that had consumed him all night.

'Oh? And pray tell,' he leaned casually against her doorframe as she attempted to busy herself in the removal of her shoes. 'What are you looking for? And why isn't precious Michael able to fulfil those requirements?' Again he drew out the name, dripping with venom. She stopped, looked at him, then swiftly avoided his gaze. How was she supposed to tell him the truth? That no matter what the poor man did or said, she automatically compared him to him, Draco. That everything she was looking for was in him, not Michael. How? He would be confused, laugh it off, and tell his just-roommate to lay off the drinks for a while and proceed to bed. But then again, he had stayed up, and he didn't seem particularly thrilled by the idea of her on a date…

'Nothing specific you know, just um, er- why do you care all of a sudden anyways?' she inquired, throwing him off guard and testing her theory.

'I, uh, don't. What makes you think I do, Granger? he asked, enunciating her last name.

'Well, Draco,' also emphasizing his name, she moved back out of her room, coming face to face with him- or rather, face to chest, seeing as she was much shorter than him without her heels. 'You were unnecessarily bitter to Michael- yes, I heard you- you stayed up in wait of me, and now you want all the dirty details of my date. So, you tell me,' she shrugged and walked past him into the kitchen.

'All of those things I did in the spirit of being a good household member, a good dorm-mate. And what do you mean dirty details? Why would the details be dirty?' he followed her into the kitchen, not backing down. She surveyed him over her own glass of water. When she set the glass down, her expression was unreadable, a difficult feat to manage, since Draco knew her almost entirely too well and caught the flicker of emotions she briefly displayed- nervousness, uncertainty and a little something he daren't place- before her eyes glazed over with determination. She, in turn, knew him like her favourite book, and was therefore probably able to read him and the trepidation, hope, and lov-like on his face.

'good roommate my foor. See, you're at it again! How does it concern you what happened between Michael and I on our date?' she was challenging him silently and, like a fool, he rose to the bait. It wasn't his fault though, the thought of her with that- that- that person made his blood boil, his temper flare and his heart ache terribly. He stepped closer to her.

'It concerns me because you should not be out so late, with men of such questionable honour, doing such- such, things!' she looked up at him incredulously.

'And why ever not?' she dared him to say it, say something which would break the Friend walls they had built, and allow them to move beyond, move further.

'Because,' he faltered and looked down. 'Because you- I- because-' her heart beat a little faster, daring to hope.

'Because what?' she all but whispered. He met her gaze, seeing his emotions reflected in her cinnamon eyes.

'Because you shouldn't be with him. You should be with me. Just me,' he said it all in a quick, wavering breath, and yet somehow, it didn't sound fast at all. Somehow, his barely spoken words were shouted at her. He looked at her uncertainly before stepping back a little, obviously misunderstanding her surprised silence.

Draco stepped back. Of course she didn't feel that way for him. Idiot. What had he been thinking? Telling a girl you loved her straight after she gets home from a date. Brilliant move, Malfoy, real smooth. Draco started to turn so he could hide in the confines of his room for at least a century. He was stopped by Hermione's soft voice.

'Prove it.'

Had he misheard? He turned back, just in case.

'What?' he asked intelligently.

'Prove it,' she repeated, more fiercely this time. 'Tell me why, show me why.' Hermione could hardly believe her own forwardness, but she had been waiting for something like this for too long now. Despite this, she was still unprepared for what occurred next. Almost before she knew it, Draco's hands were snaked around her waist, his lips claiming hers in a heated kiss. Her hands came up around his neck, twining in his soft, smooth hair, pulling him closer.

A/N: So... Ideas? Reviews? Let me know! :)