They always met at the same spot. They met at the same time; religiously. The same dark, dank hallway; the same minute. Neither is sure exactly when it started, nor why it started. One day she was walking from the library, and he was there. Just standing there. She glared at him as she walked past. He kept his face emotionless. All except his eyes. That was why she chose the same path the next day.

He was still there. This time she didn’t glare as she walked past. She stared. The coldness in his eyes chilled her, but there was something under them. Something she didn’t have a name for. That became her new path to the Gryffindor Tower.

She’d walk past, and he’d stare. And she’d stare. That’s all they ever did. Stare. She was determined to figure out what it was in those eyes. What that raw, unnerving emotion was. She still hadn’t figured it out, when one day he stepped in front of her.

“Let’s just go our separate ways, and no one gets hurt,” she tried to make her voice drip with venom, but it shook slightly. He smirked and shook his head. She raised her chin defiantly and stepped past him. He let her go.

He always let her go. Everyday he’d step in front of her, and everyday she’d walk around him. He was too stubborn to try and make her stay, because that would be admitting he wanted her to stay. And he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t admit that a Malfoy had fallen for a Mudblood. It would be disgraceful.

She always left. Everyday he’d step up, and everyday she’d leave. She was too stubborn to see what would happen if she stayed, because that would be admitting she wanted to stay. And she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t admit that a Gryffindor had fallen for a Malfoy. It would be shameful.

She couldn’t stop coming, though. Even though she couldn’t stay, she’d still stare. She still hadn’t figured out what was in his eyes. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, but you could always find them there. Staring. At each other. Past each other. Into each other.

It started to annoy her. Why didn’t he do anything? Why didn’t he stop her? Why didn’t he at least say something? That’s when she figured it out. “Fear,” she told him one night. He raised an eyebrow. “That’s what’s in your eyes. Fear.”

“Malfoys aren’t afraid of anything,” he informed her bitterly.

“Yes they are. They’re afraid of what else is in your eyes. Love,” she said the last word as if it were a dare. As if she was daring him to stop her this time. To do something he had never done before. But he refused to admit defeat, so he let her go.

The next day he was still there, still blocking her path. By now she was furious with him. This time she was going to do something he couldn’t ignore. She glared at him before standing on her tiptoes and kissing him full on the mouth. Once again she left; once again he didn’t stop her.

The next day she stormed up to him, her cheeks tinted with anger. He smiled and she slapped him across the face. “You’re a coward, Draco Malfoy,” she whispered.

“I’m a coward, am I?” he asked. He pushed her against the wall and kissed her. The kiss deepened; that was the first time he stopped her.

After that their meetings became more intimate and she started returning to the common room later and later. Neither of them mentioned the end of school; they didn’t want to admit that their relationship was going to end soon. So they continued kissing and touching and enjoying their last few days together.

“Draco, what are you going to do when you leave Hogwarts?” she asked breathlessly one night.

“I’ll probably do what my father expects of me,” he said, brushing his lips against her neck.

“You don’t have to. You could always go to Dumbledore,” she whimpered.

“You know I couldn’t.” That was the end of the conversation.

In public no one knew about their relationship. There were glares, and no one noticed the hidden meaning behind them. They weren’t friendly toward each other, but they were civil. Everyone assumed it was because Hermione was Head Girl and was trying to promote the Headmaster’s need of “inter-house relationships”. They didn’t know just how much of a relationship was there. No one ever witnessed them together either. Their hallway was always empty when they were there, and no one noticed the moans coming from it.

As the day before the train arrived came, so did their last meeting. They kissed before she sighed. “What now, Draco? Are we over?” He didn’t have to answer. “Before we leave, say my name. Not once this year have you said my name,” she whispered.

“I couldn’t. That would make this real; that would mean I’d have to say goodbye... Hermione,” he whispered back.

“You don’t have to! You can escape your father. Dumbledore...” he shook his head and kissed her one last time.

“Like you said, let’s just go our separate ways and no one gets hurt.”
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A/N: R&R