Contrast

A/N~ I don’t have much to say, only that I want to thank those of you who are continuing to read and review. The word hasn't been invented yet to express my high level of gratitude. There is one particular person I wanted to address…

Notthyfriend~ Usually I have no problem when people criticize me because I use it as a way to improve my writing and what not, but your comment sort of made me develop a tick. Fist off, have you read the Harry Potter series? If you have, then you should be able to answer you own question as to why Snape took 50 points from Hermione and Draco didn’t get in trouble at all. Draco is Snape’s favorite, and that is common knowledge. Secondly, I am not saying that other people’s fan fiction is stupid, never have I said that. I am merely poking fun at the often overused clichés found in them, some of which I am guilty of using myself. If it is annoying to you, then I suggest you stop reading my story and go find a sense of humor.

And on that note…

* * * * *

Draco was sitting in the library on Sunday evening, the night before all exams were to take place, and students were cramming, experiencing anxiety attacks, or attempting suicide. He was trying to study, just like the rest of his classmates, but he was supposed to meet Granger at their table, and he was finding it harder and harder to concentrate, because the usually punctual girl was late. 15 minutes late to be exact.

This wasn’t the first oddity that Draco had observed since he had left Granger alone in the Gryffindor common room with Potter on Friday night. She had spent all day Saturday with Potter and Weasley, and during the final Quidditch match, which Draco had yet to get over losing to that scarred bastard again, Draco saw her sitting in the stands while flying around searching for the snitch, not cheering with her fellow Gryffindors, but gazing off into the distance with a detached look upon her face. But someone would have had to been a fuckwit not to notice that there was a definite strain amongst the Golden Trio (who came up with that ridiculous name anyway, there was nothing golden about them?). Well actually, the strain existed between two of the three, for as usual, Weasley being his usual dim-witted self, idiotically unaware of the lack of conversation and eye contact between Granger and Potter, nor did he notice the sporadic sad smiles that they exchanged. Draco, being the brilliantly intelligent, incredibly perceptive, and extraordinarily handsome person that he was, had not failed to see the peculiar interactions and apologetic glances, and he also happened to know that he was the reason for said tension between the two friends.

Every time Draco would see them in the Great Hall together, or pass them in the hallway, Weasley would call Draco a ferret while giving him a rude hand gesture, Granger would not even acknowledge his presence, and Potter would glare vehemently at Draco while nothing but intense hatred flashed in his eyes. If looks could kill, Draco knew he would have been dead before he hit the floor.

Draco was surprised, to say the least, when Granger found him studying/sulking over his loss in the crowded but silent library Saturday night after dinner, and asked him if they were going to his room or not. Draco asked her why she wasn’t celebrating the undeserved winning of the Quidditch Cup with the rest of her House, and she quietly told him that she would rather be being fucked by him. Draco didn’t have to be told twice. He packed up his books and notes, and walked out of the library with her. They were both non-vocal on their way to the dungeons; the only words spoken were when Draco softly said the Concealment Charm on Granger in a dark and deserted alcove near the Slytherin common room entrance.

When they passed through the open wall, Draco slowly made his way around the room, acting as if the Head Girl wasn’t silently making her way up the stairs to wait for him by his bedroom door. He nodded to Crabbe and Goyle, who looked positively dumbfounded as they gazed bewilderedly at their open books; he kissed Pansy on the cheek before she distractedly brushed him off, muttering about how she needed to have a look at his Transfiguration notes later, and he located Blaise in the narrow room, sitting in his chair and reading, appearing relaxed and calm in the midst of the studying madness. He raised his eyes from the book when Draco passed him on his way to the stairs, and immediately glanced in the direction of Draco’s room, his eyes narrowing with understanding. Draco simply shot him a smug look accompanied by a smirk before he climbed the steps and entered his room, closing his door and saying a locking and silencing spell when he was sure Granger was in the room with him (she bumped into his dresser to which she reacted with a monotone “Damn it Hermione.”).

After they had shagged a couple of times, Draco was lying on his bed with Granger next to him, both naked and satisfied for the time being. She was on her stomach, her right arm falling over the side of the bed, drawing small patterns on his green area rug with her finger. Draco couldn’t help but be curious about her detached behavior, but he had an idea about what could be causing it.

“Granger, what is with you today?” he asked.

Her voice was slightly muffled as she responded “Nothing. I guess I am just stressed out about N.E.W.T.S.”

“Yeah, okay. Now how about you tell me what is really bothering you. If it was really N.E.W.T.S., you would be in your common room buried up to your neck in books and notes, not fucking me in my room.”

“I said it’s nothing Malfoy.” She said a bit more clearly, having raised her head to turn and glare at him.

“What did you and Potter talk about after I left?”

“What?” she asked alarmingly.

“What did he say to you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.” She said, resting her head on the pillow, her eyes closed so she could avoid Draco’s questioning gaze.

“Well I do,” Draco told her while raising himself to rest on his elbows, “You always make me talk about what I don’t want to, so now it’s your turn.”

When Granger said nothing in reply, Draco was about to berate her about how she was being a hypocrite and she deserved to have to suffer the way he did when she questioned him, but his lecture was forgotten when Granger suddenly jumped up, pushed him onto his back, and straddled him, kissing him hungrily, as though she would never kiss him again. When she took her hand and guided Draco’s hardening cock into her semi-wet cunt, and started riding him roughly, Draco felt all questions leave his mind, his curiosity being replaced with arousal and lust. Granger moved on him expertly, and as Draco watched her above him, the possessiveness he felt only added to his desire. Her head was thrown back in ecstasy, her long hair brushing Draco’s thighs, and her skin was smooth under his hands as he ran them over her breasts, her stomach, her hips, her thighs, and her perfect round arse. She was his seductive wanton wicked Mudblood.

It wasn’t until 20 minutes later when Granger was lying on top of Draco, his slowly softening manhood still buried inside her, her tight walls occasionally contracting around him with the after shocks of her orgasm, did he remember why Granger had practically attacked him in the first place. She was resting her warm cheek against Draco’s shoulder, her face buried in his neck, breathing deeply and heavily, while Draco kissed and nibbled her neck and shoulder, his hands caressing her back, glowing with perspiration.

“Granger, as sexy and mind-blowing as that performance was, you didn’t fuck my brains out completely. I am still waiting for your answer.”

“Please Malfoy, I don’t want to talk about, don’t try and make me.”

Draco was not fooled by the stern tone of voice she used; he could hear the pleading beneath it. Usually this would not sway Draco, but he knew that when she had her mind set, he would get nothing out of Granger.

“Fine, but sooner or later, we will talk about it.”

He could feel her nod her head before she unfalteringly said, “But not tonight.”

“Not tonight.” Draco repeated as he continued kneading her back and nuzzling her neck. He knew that whatever made Granger, the most talkative bird he knew, remain silent had to be so monumental that it either had her brain working faster than her mouth could form the words to explain it or she had something that she really didn’t want to tell him.

Draco was thinking twice about his agreement to cease his interrogation a half an hour later when Granger’s tired voice next to him brought him out of his reconsideration.

“Malfoy, can I sleep here, with you tonight?”

Draco had made it a rule that none of the girls he fucked would ever stay the night with him, but it was the desperation of her utterance that made him say yes, and it was the suspicion that she didn’t want to go back to the tower to face Potter after he would most certainly know where she had been that kept Draco awake while Granger’s eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep beside him. Perhaps that was why she had been so quiet, so reserved. She felt guilty for shagging him, even more so now that Potter knew about it. Oh well, it wasn’t Draco’s problem that she had a nagging conscience. He couldn’t help that no matter how much her friend disapproved she still found him irresistible, and based on Granger’s animalistic sexual appetite that night, Draco was just that; alluring, charming, captivating, inescapable, and all around unavoidable.

Draco fell asleep with a cavalier smirk plastered on his face and the perfect words to describe him echoing in his head, only to be awakened hours later by Granger sighing loudly. Draco could see by the pale moonlight coming from his window just above the level of the lake that her bare shoulders were slightly shaking.

“Granger,” he whispered appallingly, “are you crying?”

He hadn’t meant to sound so disgusted, but he never did well around sobbing women; something about large drops of water leaking from puffy red eyes and snot dripping out of, only to be snorted back into the nose, just screamed weakness to Draco. And he prayed upon the weak, he didn’t comfort them.

Granger cleared her throat before she answered him with a solid “No.”

“Good, because if you were weeping like a little first year Hufflepuff, I would have to kick you out of my bed for at least a week.”

“Malfoy?” she said, turning on to her back and looking at him.

“What?”

“Please just shut up and fuck me.”

* * * * *

And that is how it was for the rest of the night. They would shag, fall asleep for an hour or two, wake up and shag again, and then fall back asleep. Granger didn’t say much other than naughty phrases of encouragement and curse words that preceded her orgasms. After they would both come down from their post-orgasmic bliss, they would turn on their backs or sides and let sleep claim them, exhausted from their vigorous and intense coupling.

When Draco awoke at 8:30 the next morning, he turned his head to see the other half of his bed empty. She had left while he was still sleeping, all evidence of her spending the night in his room gone except for her intoxicating sent still lingering on his pillow and the piece of parchment on his beside table asking him to meet her in the library after dinner that night written in her neat and meticulous hand writing.

He was of course irritated that Granger had left without waking him up so he could escort her out of the Slytherin common room and help her avoid any contact with a suspecting housemate of his, most importantly Blaise. Judging by the way Blaise merely sneered at Draco when he emerged from his room an hour later Blaise had missed Granger’s departure as well.

Draco hadn’t seen her all day. She wasn’t in the Great Hall during meals, nor was she in the library or taking advantage of the early summer sun and studying on the grounds like some students were doing. Draco just assumed she was either in her room or the Gryffindor common room, stuffing her head full of facts, dates, spells, and wand movements. He had seen Potter and Weasley without her in their company as well, and if he didn’t dislike the two wankers so much, he might have inquired about her whereabouts. He settled for taking the mickey out of them every chance he got instead, including throwing in a few hints to Potter that he was with Granger last night. He laughed quite spiritedly when Weasley had to physically restrain the enraged boy.

So now here he was, sucking on one of his beloved lemon drops and struggling to study while expecting Granger to show up at any moment. When she did, blimey, was Draco ever going to reprimand her for making him wait. Malfoy’s did not stand by for some one else’s arrival. If anything, she should be the one waiting for him to breeze in carelessly, announcing exasperatedly that he had to take time out of his busy schedule to meet her, where upon his appearance Granger would leap up excitedly, while wearing nothing at all of course, and make it her life’s mission to become his sex slave and feed him grapes for the rest of his life while he got to prod Potter and Weasley with a hot and pointy stick at his leisure.

Draco directed his attention out of his day dream and back to his cramped notes sitting in front of him, determined to clear his mind of all thoughts except for all things related to Charms. Just as he perfected the correct incantation and wand movement for the Patronus Charm, he heard the chair across from him scrape the stone floor as it was being pulled back and the unmistakable sound of someone sitting down.

Assuming it was Granger Draco did not bother to raise his eyes from his notes as he smirked.

“It’s about time you showed up, I was just about to go to my room and get started without you.”

At the sound of masculine chuckling, Draco lifted his head and saw Blaise in the chair, not Granger. Draco felt his smirk fade into a sneer as he glowered at Blaise. Inwardly, he was pleased to see the cut on Blaise’s lip had not quite healed, and there was a yellowish tinge to his caramel colored jaw. Not so handsome now, was he?

“What’s wrong Draco, expecting someone else?” he asked haughtily.

“As a matter of fact, your mother should be arriving momentarily.”

Blaise chuckled again before he said, “And here I thought you were being stood up by Granger, my mistake.”

“Get lost.” Draco muttered. “I don’t have the time or energy to play your game tonight.”

“No energy you say? Did our girl keep you up all last night?”

Draco was already annoyed, and the fact that Blaise was smiling carnally was only adding to his irritation.

“She is not ‘our’ girl, she is mine, and you shouldn’t pretend as if you don’t already know this.”

“You never did like to share Draco, but you shouldn’t pretend as if I let that stop me. She won’t be yours much longer. I am just biding my time, patient until it is my turn to fuck her again.”

“Well mate,” said Draco, leaning across the table to stare into Blaise’s dark eyes, “you’ll be waiting a long time because I am no where near being done with her.”

Blaise smirked at Draco and rolled his eyes.

“And how do you know she isn’t done with you? I saw her yesterday, ignoring you, pretending you don’t exist. It is only a matter of time before she disposes of you the same way she did with me.”

Leaning back in his chair, Draco watched his former friend through narrowed eyes. The bastard was really begging to get punched again.

“You don’t know what you are talking about.”

Waving his hand dismissively, Blaise’s expression became serious, his stupid wannabe-as-devilishly-appealing-as-Draco smirk gone. Good!

“Don’t be so sure. You forget that I know exactly what to expect from her, she tossed me aside before she ever thought of fucking you. I know how to read her better than you. You two are going to come to an end, and when you do, I will be right there, reminding her of what she gave up before she decided to shag your whoring arse. Fucking me was wrong, but fucking you is inexcusable, and she’ll remember that when she needs a good pounding.”

It was Draco’s turn to roll his eyes in agitation.

“She won’t fuck you again Blaise, so you might as well just let the notion go. She will continue to tell you no, whether or not she is fucking me.”

“Maybe, but I know exactly how to break her down, I know how to talk to her, how to touch her, I know her weaknesses just as well as you do. It is only a matter of taking advantage of the perfect opportunity. Before you know it, I will have her screaming my name, my first name, in orgasmic delight, and thinking ‘Malfoy who?’”

Draco was trying to keep his anger in check while glaring at Blaise by reassuring himself that his mate had always had the talent of exaggeration. But somehow the arrogant smirk that had returned to Blaise’s face had Draco wondering if this was one of those times when he being truthful.

Draco was about to tell Blaise off for being absurd in his assumptions, but he noticed his gaze shift from Draco’s face to something over Draco’s shoulder, his face lighting up. Draco could hear footsteps behind him and his nostrils were assailed with the familiar scent that was currently residing on his pillow. He could feel her standing behind him, but his eyes were still narrowly glued on Blaise.

“Well,” purred Blaise, “speak of the Mudblood and she appears.”

“Go away Zabini, I need to speak with Malfoy privately.” She said coldly.

“It’s Zabini again is it?” he asked as he stood up from the chair across from Draco. “What did I tell you about that? We are, shall I say, familiar enough with each other to stop this surname business, Hermione.”

Draco felt his anger growing at the sound of his friend calling Granger by her proper name. It was too personal, too reminiscent of their past together. It left Draco temporarily speechless. That almost never happens.

“I said go away.” Granger repeated, enunciating each word carefully, the icy tone more accentuated as she stepped around Draco to stand next to the table.

Blaise smiled charmingly at Granger as he walked over to stand in front of her. He glanced down at Draco, bidding him farewell by saying “Cheers mate.”, before returning his gaze to Granger.

“Hermione, it is always a pleasure.” He said, his voice dripping with desire.

The double entendre was not missed by Draco, and by the stony expression on Granger’s face, she caught it too.

As Blaise walked away, Draco noticed that Granger was still standing and made no move to sit down in the chair across from him. Upon closer examination, he also realized that she did not have her book bag with her either.

“No books Granger? Did you want to skip tonight’s pretenses and go straight to my room? I could use a good hard fucking to get my aggression out from having to deal with that prat.”

“Actually, I was hoping we could talk.”

“What the fuck is with you and talking?” Draco asked, irritation still pumping through out his veins. “I wouldn’t be surprised if your tongue just up and fell out one of these days.”

“It’s important. We need to talk.” She responded softly, her brown eyes staring deeply into his.

“Here?” Draco said loudly as he was being shushed by at least three people from the near by tables.

“No. Could we go down by the lake?”

“Fine.”

Draco stuffed his notes into his bag and walked out of the library with Granger leading the way for once.

* * * * *

They arrived at the lake 10 minutes later. It was sunset and the water reflected the brilliant red and orange color of the flaming sky. The grounds were empty except for the birds singing in the trees and the two of them.

Draco was aware that Granger was leading him to the secluded area where he had viciously fucked her only a little over a week ago, when she had finally admitted that she was his; that she belonged to him. Lost in the memory, Draco nearly bumped into Granger, not realizing that she had stopped walking.

She was staring out at the lake, a sad smile painted on her luscious pink lips. Her hair was in a ponytail, but the wear of the day had caused curing tendrils to come lose and frame her face. She was wearing Muggle jeans which Draco suspected her bum would have looked spectacular in had she not been wearing that damned big baggy jumper. After their little talk was over, he would take great joy in yanking off the offending thin purple sweater off of her.

Wanting to get the conversation over with, Draco stepped in front of Granger, demanding her attention, and she looked at him as if he had just interrupted a telepathic conversation she was having with the body of water. What was so great about that damned lake anyway? The Giant Squid? Yeah, he smelled like rotten fish and was slimy, that’s really something to brag about.

“You brought me all the way out here to talk to me Granger and you have yet to say one word. Are you all of the sudden rendered speechless by my striking handsomeness that the dazzling sunset pales in comparison to?”

She laughed softly.

“No, sorry, I just sort of needed to collect my thoughts for a moment before I say what I have to.”

Suddenly it dawned on Draco: the severe change in mood, the aggressiveness, the regret in her eyes, and that damn baggy jumper. Please, Merlin, No!

“Bloody fucking hell, are you pregnant?” he yelled at her as he threw his book bag to the ground in distress. Draco was sure that he had never been more horrified in all his life.

“What?”

“I can’t believe this! We used Contraception Charms every time; those damn things are good for 24 hours! How in the fuck did this happen? If you think I am going to marry you just because you have my sprog swimming in your filthy womb then you are terribly mistaken! Why won’t you answer me? I swear to Merlin Granger, if you are up the duff, I will kick you in you as hard as I can in the stomach!”

Granger was looking at him with her arms folded across her chest, slightly amused, her laughing eyes following him as he paced in front of her.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist Malfoy. I’m not pregnant, but if I was, it’s nice to know what your reaction would be. I thought you didn’t let your nerves get the best of you.”

“Shut up Granger! That was an extenuating circumstance.” Draco said, sighing with relief.

“So you would kick me, huh?”

“I was fully prepared to do it.” He assured her.

“I’m glad to know you have some sort of plan should that type of situation ever arise. Thankfully that is not the subject of what I need to talk to you about.”

Not quite reassured, Draco thought back to other times when she said she needed to talk to him.

“Please tell me it doesn’t have anything to do with Blaise. I think I may kill him if it does.”

“No, it has nothing to do with him.”

Draco sighed again.

“So if it isn’t one of those things, then it can’t be too pressing,” Draco paused, searching his mind, “unless it has to do with what you and Potter talked about after I left the other night.”

The merriment that had been dancing in her eyes immediately retreated, and she lowered her eyes to the ground, confirming it had to do with that exactly. She sighed heavily before she raised her eyes to his again, and Draco didn’t miss the unease swimming in their brown depths.

“We have to end this Malfoy, whatever we call this unhealthy dysfunctional relationship we have.” She said steadily while she gestured with her hands moving between them.

“So, Potter told you to break it off then?”

“I just decided we needed to stop.”

Draco was fuming, but he didn’t want Granger to know that the discontinuation of their affair was causing that kind of reaction in him, so he reverted to his old practices, and did the only thing he could think of: act as though he didn’t care.

“Alright then, that’s fine by me.”

“What?” she asked disbelievingly.

“Did you expect me to put up a fight Granger? What we had was purely sexual, nothing more. I’ll just have to go and find some other slag to fuck. It shouldn’t be too hard, seeing as how I have been out of commission for a couple of weeks, and sorely missed by the rest of the female population. To think, I was wasting my time with you when I could have been screwing loads of birds. It is a travesty really.”

Draco could see the anger flashing in her eyes, and reminding him of their last encounter at that very spot, Granger pushed him, but this time he was ready for it and he didn’t budge, but smirked at her mockingly when she glared at him furiously.
“What the bleeding hell is wrong with you Malfoy? As soon as you hear something you don’t care for, you put on that damned false front of yours, purposefully saying mean things just to hurt me. You are such a pretentious bastard!”

“What would you like me to say Granger?” he asked calmly despite the anger still ebbing and flowing inside of him.

“Whatever you are thinking. You don’t have to pretend with me, not anymore. I know you better than that.”

“I’m not some nancy boy like your precious Weasley or Potter. I am not going to bitch and moan just because you are breaking this off.”

Granger threw up her hands in frustration.

“I’m not asking you to, but don’t just stand there telling me you are fine with it and saying what a waste it was. I know you are pissed off, so act like it!”

“Fine Granger,” he bellowed, giving up his useless façade. “I am pissed off, I am fucking furious! Why do you have to fuck with a good thing? You and I, we were perfectly content with our little arrangement until Potter found out. Come last night and you’re acting all dodgy and mental.”

Draco saw her shift on her feet when he mentioned her friend’s name, and he knew.

“You’re giving it up because of him, aren’t you?”

She looked at him in the eyes, her gaze never wavering as she stood in firmly front of him.

“I am doing this because, as I feared, I got lost in it. I have been so selfish! I found pleasure with you, and while it was impractical, yes, I was content with it, but what was it worth? I could have lost my friendship with Harry that night, but instead of casting me off, he told me he doesn’t hate me for what I did. That right there made me realize how wonderful of a friend Harry is. I was never thinking of how this thing we have would affect him or Ron for that matter. I was taking their trust for granted and lying to them and they deserve so much more from me, and I most definitely do not deserve them. I have to let Harry know how much he and Ron mean to me, and the only way I can do that is to give this up…to give you up.”

“Bollocks!” Draco shouted at her.

“Excuse me?” she asked as though she were deeply affronted by his declaration.

“You are full of complete and utter bullshit Granger! I have one last contrast for you. I do what I want, what satisfies me, everyone else be damned. Why else would I have started our relationship in the first place, aside from raging hormones? But you, you fucking Mudblood, you would sacrifice anything and everything if it meant that Potter, or Weasley, or any other wanker out there but yourself was happy. You said that you feared you would get lost in it, in being mine, because you knew you would fancy it, and everyone else would disapprove. You are a coward, and your reasoning is bullshit!”

She took a step closer to him, her finger poking Draco in his chest, her face accusing and vehement.

“You do what you want Malfoy? Really? So tell me, have you decided what you are going to do about the war, who’s side you are going to fight on, ‘everyone else be damned’? I was forced to make a huge decision that would greatly impact my life on Friday night, and I came to a conclusion on Saturday. You have been thinking on yours all year! If I am a coward, then what the fuck are you?”

Draco was silent, and she was right. He was being a hypocrite, as well as a coward. But now wasn’t the time to think about that. Instead, he brought his attention to something else that had alerted him.

“Don’t change the subject Granger. I am guessing that the decision you had to make was brought to you by Potter. Either him or me, right?” He stared at her knowingly.

“Yes.” She replied in almost a whisper. “Harry and Ron are the most important people in the world to me.”

“And you decided to end it with me yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“And last night?” Draco asked as he recalled her strange behavior the night before.

“Sort of like our last hoorah.” She told him, her tone apologetic and her eyes searching his for forgiveness.

Draco nodded his head in understanding. He wasn’t the least bit surprised she chose Potter and Weasley over him; he would never expect her to.

“So this is how it’s going to end Granger?”

“I suppose so.”

“It’s a good thing I don’t love you, otherwise this could cause quite the emotional damage, not that I am capable of such an overrated emotion.”

She smiled at him.

“I don’t love you either Malfoy. Hell, I don’t know if I even fancied you.”

“Sure you did, everyone fancies me.” He told her, now smiling too, the anger he was feeling now rapidly fleeing from him.

They stood there, watching each other for a moment in silence. The sun was halfway gone, and a chill was growing in the air.

“I have one last proposal.” Draco told her.

“And what is that?” she replied as her smile grew, but it did not reach her eyes and banish the grief that had been residing in them since Friday night.

“I propose we finish this with how it started; a kiss.” He stated in his most professional voice.

“A kiss?” she repeated, just as earnestly.

Draco answered her by taking a step closer to her. He captured her lips and he traced his tongue across her lips softly before she opened them for him, letting out a barely audible moan. He kissed her that same way he did that first time, slow and agile, softly but urgently, steadily growing into something more passionate, but this time it wasn’t the beginning of his experiment, it was the end. Granger’s arms wrapped around his neck and her fingers tangled into his hair, letting him know she didn’t want the kiss to stop. Draco couldn’t blame her. And although his mind and body were screaming for him to continue, to take it further, Draco released her lips and stepped away from Granger. He wasn’t sure where he found the willpower to do it. It must be his superior Pureblood that gave him the strength to extricate himself from the Mudblood, his Mudblood.

Gazing down at her, Draco saw that Granger’s eyes were still closed and her cheeks were flushed pink. When she opened her eyes, they were heavily lidded and dark brown with desire. It was the first time Draco had ever thought she looked beautiful.

Draco said nothing as he picked up his bag from the ground and turned his back on her and started walking towards the castle. She did nothing to stop him.

A sudden thought occurred to Draco, and he remembered what Blaise had said. He was right in his assumption that Granger was going to break it off with him, and Draco knew he would take full advantage of it. He turned back around to face her, meters away from him. She was staring out at the lake again, as if she couldn’t watch him walk away from her.

“Granger,” he called out.

She shifted her gaze to him.

“What?” she called back.

“You are still mine, you always will be.” He told her.

“I know.” She said as she smiled at him.

Draco smiled back at her, a real genuine smile he usually reserved only for his mother, before he pivoted on his feet and continued his journey to the entrance of Hogwarts, refusing to look back at her again.

* * * * *

A/N~ Is this the end of Draco and Hermione? Um, no, duh! Otherwise I would have written “The End” in big bold letters and it so isn’t!

So what did everyone think of the break-up scene? It may not be what you expected, maybe you wanted more fireworks, but this is how I pictured it in my head, so this is what you get.

If you love me, or not even me, if you just love my story, or like it, hell, you don’t even have to like it, if you read it by mistake, please review. It’ll make me super duper happy, and a super duper happy author makes for better and longer chapters like this one.

Love to you all,

Roberta