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There was a time in the space of two weeks when Draco thought he’d never get out of bed again.

He remembered how weak he thought Hermione was when she’d gotten into such a state when Potter had died. He’d remember thinking, what could possibly reduce a person into this?

Now he knew.

It was love.

--Because he did love her.

It was funny—now that she was gone, he felt no fear in admitting it. In fact, if he wasn’t feeling so lethargic he would have opened his bedroom window and scream it out at the top of his lungs.

As it was, it would probably kill his vocal chords.

He’d used them sparingly over the last two weeks. Only to answer teachers when asked or to tell Crabbe and Goyle that he wouldn’t be going to dinner.

Life as he knew it had ended.

It had taken a Gryffindor to turn his life upside down. Who knew that showing a gentle side would repay him so badly?

Draco sighed and hid his head under his pillow, waiting to be engulfed by dreamless sleep.

Yet again


Ron looked worriedly over at Hermione.

It was Potions class, and she looked like a zombie. But she wasn’t the only one. Across the room, the furthest seat you could possibly have gotten away from Hermione, sat Zombie-Draco.

Frankly, he thought they were both stupid.

How could two people... who seemed like so much together cause each other so much grief? Especially when their parting was enforced by themselves?

It wasn’t like anyone was standing in their way.

‘Hermione,’ he nudged her.

‘What?’ she snapped.

The irritable question echoed through the potions room. The class had been awaiting the answer to the question Professor Tigon (a substitute teacher) had asked.

‘Ms. Granger. I asked what ingredients I might need to make a potion which enables the wearer to have a more flexible hand.’

‘I--,’ Hermione was about to admit that she didn’t know, when the bell rang and class ended.


It would kill her.

She knew it.

But maybe dying wasn’t such a bad thing? Maybe she and Harry could get up to some mischief in the after life?

But that weak excuse for a joke rang hollow in her ears. Because she didn’t want to die—she wanted nothing more than to take hers and Draco’s pain away.

The horrible feeling she had was because she’d made him feel bad.

She could only wonder what he was going through—after all—he’d been the one rejected.

‘Hermione... can I talk to you?’ a male voice asked from behind.

For a second she entertained the thought that it could be Draco. That he’d come to make things up with her—that they could go back to how they used to be.

But by the next second, it registered that the male’s voice was lighter and had a sense of nervousness in it.

‘Ron, of course,’ Hermione knew that she couldn’t keep pushing her best friend away. She’d lost two in the space of half a year—she didn’t want to lose another.

‘About Draco...’

It was probably the wrong place to start.

Ron saw Hermione’s eyes darken and look haunted.

‘Ron—I don’t want to...’

‘No Hermione. Let me speak,’ he insisted.

Hermione nodded and shut her mouth. She knew that Ron wasn’t much big on confrontation or intervention—he liked to just go with the flow. But something must have been so important to make him speak out.

He handed the letter Harry had given him.

‘I got this from Harry,’ he whispered.

Hermione didn’t want to read the letter.

She wasn’t prepared for another confrontation with Harry—who was the complete opposite from Ron. She smiled bitterly at the realisation that he was still intervening from the dead.

She scanned through the letter.

Help them be together.

Harry knew.

We both know that they’ve always had a little spark between them that only needed a little push to ignite into something bigger...

What was it that they said? There’s a real fine line between love and hate?

Hermione took in a shuddered breath.

Remember the time she slapped him?--every time that they argued with each other in class? Whenever he came to terrorise us—she’d stand in front and take him on?

‘You thought it came from nowhere didn’t you?’ Ron asked her softly.

She nodded her eyes stinging again. Ever-perceptive Harry had seen something that no one else had been able to pin-point.

‘But it’s been building up from the first moment you met him,’ Ron grinned, ‘you can only hate someone so much before something starts to change... because that’s what we do Herm... we change.’


Hermione needed time and space to think.

The first place that she thought of was the library. Where she and Draco had spent many happy moments in this year alone—

But she knew that she couldn’t face going in there without him.

She walked. It was after dinner already, eight p.m. and everyone had gone to their dormitories or to the library or common rooms or anything else that people get up to—the corridors were practically empty.

She only saw a few kids scurrying past her nervously—and though it was her responsibility as Head Girl to ask them what they were doing, she let them go.

Finally she headed out into the court-yard.

It was already mid-January and the frost was dying down even though the snow was still there. She loved to squish her feet against the snow, her boots making crunching noises.

In a way it made her feel safe—because you could always hear when someone was coming...


Draco woke up with a sweat.

He knew it was unhealthy to take afternoon naps. He pushed off his bedcovers as though they were scalding him.

He needed to get out of his dark stuffy room. He’d barely turned on a light, opened the door or windows in the last few days and the recycled air was definitely getting to him.

He glanced at his bedside clock. Eight p.m.

He shouldn’t be out having a walk. Nevertheless, he grabbed his robe and donned it over his Slytherin coloured pyjamas. As he pulled on his boots he decided that he didn’t care if anyone saw him.

He needed this walk.


Hermione spun around at the sound of boots crunching the snow.

She gasped as she saw Draco standing there, looking as surprised as she was. He turned to walk away again, but she knew she had to stop him.


It had the underlying memory of the time she’d regained her voice. The time when she’d reached out to him first—a time that she had to repeat now if she wanted to salvage their relationship. Or what was left of it.

‘Don’t go...’ she whispered.

He nodded slightly. It was so small that she thought she’d imagined it. At least until he came to sit by her on a bench.

She took in the scene before her.

Here was the guy she loved, looking like he’d just woken up. His hair, normally gelled back—or at least making some sort of fashion statement—was now sticking up all over the place. His eyes looked tired and kind of dull. He was crouched over, Hermione didn’t know whether it was from the cold or because she was close. She—

Wait a minute.


Here was the guy she loved...

She gasped.

‘Are you alright?’ Draco’s hand settled on her shoulder.

She flinched, as though he’d hurt her. She got up and nearly tripped over her robe.

‘Hermione—what’s wrong. It looks like you’ve just seen a ghost,’ Draco was suddenly standing, worried.

Hermione’s heart burst with joy—she’d cracked the code.

‘No! I haven’t. In fact—I think I’ve just gotten rid of my ghosts,’ she grinned enigmatically.

‘Excuse me?’ Draco asked confused.

GOSH he was cute when he was confused. Hermione wanted nothing better than to wipe the confusion off his face.

‘I love you,’ she said simply.

Draco stood still for what seemed like an eternity. This definitely was not the reaction she’d expected from him.

‘Hermione—I think I’d better go,’ was what he finally said.

‘DRACO MALFOY! I finally tell you how I feel and you’re going to walk away from me?’ she demanded of him.

‘You’re crazy!’ he called back to her as he continued to leave.

No way was she going to let him walk away from their love.

‘Are you telling me that you don’t love me?’ she challenged him.

He stopped once more.

She let out a little cry as he managed to make it back to her in three steps and kissed her. Just full on kissed her with everything he had.

‘Yes I love you. But you can’t love me...’ he said harshly as he pulled his lips away from her.

‘Since when do you tell me how I can or cannot feel?’ she gripped the collar of his robe.

‘Remember Harry Potter?’

He thought he had a winner there, if his bitter smile was anything to go by.

‘Oh no, you don’t! I won’t let you use Harry as an excuse to walk away from me,’ she said.

Something changed in his eyes.

‘I loved Harry, Draco—so much. But that love didn’t have the chance to grow. What I feel for you is already there—maybe even more. But what’s different is that it can keep growing—if we let it,’

Hermione’s Gryffindor colours allowed her not to be a coward, ‘will you take that chance with me?’


That moment was one that had always been held dear by Draco and Hermione in the years to come.

Every year after that—even when they’d left Hogwarts and taken up jobs in the Ministry of Magic—they’d still return for their anniversary.

They got married at that courtyard two years later...

And a statue of a lost friend was placed there. Almost like a guardian for the love that Draco and Hermione Malfoy shared for the rest of their lifetime.

A/N: Sometimes we make choices that we regret-- but when you get a second chance you've got seize it. Hermione learnt that she had to make a choice there and then and it all worked out for her!

Well thanks for all who are completing reading this first fanfic of mine! I'd like to thank Annie-mo especially, my beta! And also please comment if you've gone this far and havent yet!

Hmm... oh and please visit 'No Ordinary Love' my second fanfic!!!

Over and out, Kei_sainter

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