Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me.

Her laugh echoed over the din in the Great Hall and wafted straight into his ear, causing shivers down his spine. He lifted his grey eyes and locked onto her tilted head and wide smile, smoldering as she placed her hand on the arm of the redhead next to her. His heart beat faster and his nostrils flared, catching her unearthly sweet scent across the room. That had been happening more frequently lately and he hung his head.

_'Why her? Her of all the possible girls in the world. It had to be her.' _He shook his head in despair and pushed his food away forlornly.

"What's wrong Drakey?" Pansy draped herself against him in what she assumed to be a coquettish manner. "You've barely eaten in a week." His stomach churned as her sickly saccharine perfume invaded his senses.

"Just haven't been feeling well. Leave me alone Pansy." His spoke grumpily, shoving her off a bit harsher than necessary.

"Ouch!" Pansy rubbed her arm vigorously. "You're so violent lately Draco! Merlin!" He ignored her, looking down at his lap and sighed. He had certainly become more violent around his friends, feeling restless and unfulfilled, all because of her. He lifted his eyes to her once again as he felt her move and watched her walk, followed by her three Gryffindor companions, out of the Hall.

Draco stood, unsure of why he felt so heartbroken that she was leaving, and followed after her. He watched her go up the stairs and stood at the bottom, annoyed with this lovesick puppy act he had adopted over the past few days. As the Christmas holiday grew closer, he grew increasingly plagued with thoughts of her, yearning to be by her side at every moment.

It's not as if he didn't have other women to go to, they flocked after him in gaggles often, which is to be expected after all. Draco had always had women after him and never quite understood it. Well, there was the good breeding, extreme fortune, and high social standing, not to mention intelligence, poise, and devastating looks. However, this summer when he had come of age, his mother explained it to him fully, revealing their Veela heritage.

Along with the enhanced looks came enhanced stares, not only from women, even some of the men seemed to notice something special about him, something appealing and exotic. The girls at Hogwarts were falling for him left and right. He even had a few girls stalking him, suspected anyway. But the real pain of it was that she didn't seem affected by his new found attractiveness.

It killed him to walk past her and be completely ignored. His mother told him that it would be so, that when he found her, his senses would heighten and he would feel a sort of bond with her. However, she failed to mention that it would soon become painful to look at her and not be able to hold her, to kiss her. That it would physically hurt to know she didn't notice him, as anything but a cruel son of a Death Eater that is.

"Hermione have you noticed anything different about Malfoy lately?" Ginny spoke in a slightly shadowed voice, like her mind wasn't quite there.

"No. He seems to be the same heartless git as usual. Why?" Hermione scoffed and quickly supplied her answer.

"He just seems…I dunno…different. He's sort of-" She sighed, searching for the proper word as Harry looked at her appalled. "sparkly or something."

"Sparkly?" Ron asked incredulously. Hermione laughed and put her arm around Ginny.

"Darling it seems to me like you've caught the bug." Harry's eyes went wide and he looked ready to kill the next boy that crossed his path. "Draco Malfoy's irresistible-" She put her fingers up in mimic of quotations "good looks and charm. I've never seen it, and to be quite honest, am highly doubtful it even exists."

"I dunno 'Mione." Ginny's voice was still dream-like and she sounded spectacularly similar to Luna as she continued. "There's just something different about him. I can't put my finger on it."

Hermione looked to both Ron and Harry and they all shared a disbelieving countenance while Ginny floated down the hallway in front of them. "All the girls seem so floaty lately." Ron observed, looking around at all the other girls, in near trances.

"Floaty? Ronald that's not even a word." Hermione said exasperated. "Girls aren't _floaty_ they're just…dreamy." She huffed as a girl from Ravenclaw ran into her and just kept walking, dazed. "It's like they're all love struck or something." A scowl made its way across her face. "It's disgusting."

"You know Hermione," Harry spoke softly, "Malfoy has been different. He hasn't started anything with us this entire term. Maybe he's changed." Ron nodded hesitantly next to him.

She looked at them, incredulous. "I can't those words just came out of your mouth. Of all people I expected better from you two." She scoffed again. "People like Malfoy can't change."

"Oh come on 'Mione! Don't you think you're better a little too judgmental?" Harry nudged her.

Hermione turned to him and began walking backwards, arms outstretched. "This is Malfoy we're talking about! How could I possibly be too judgmental?" She whipped back around to turn the corner and ran straight into the person she had just criticized.

"Hermione!" Ron cried out as she went tumbling backwards, her books flying in the air.

Draco caught her swiftly and pulled her back onto her feet effortlessly. Hermione closed her eyes as her nose caught his scent and she felt suddenly faint. She bent down to collect her book and shivered as the skin of his hand touched hers on her Potions book. "Sorry Hermione." He grabbed her bag. "Let me help you."

"Um…thanks." Her brain seemed to turn to mush as she looked at him, feeling her skin burn where they had touched. He handed her the bag, everything righted, and pulled away from her, reluctantly. As he walked in the opposite direction, she could swear the hall got colder.

"Hermione?" Ron touched her arm and she jumped away quickly, feeling a jolt of nausea course through her. "You ok?" He reached for her again, and she moved away. "Come on, 'Mi." His furrowed his eyebrows, worried that she was suddenly skittish.

"Don't touch me Ron." She looked at his hand, outstretched to her, warily. "Please, I don't—don't touch me." Hermione turned walked briskly down the hall in the direction of the library.

Ron stood there, staring at her retreating back with his mouth gaping open. "She's a bit mad today isn't she Harry?" He nodded in agreement and continued on to the common room with his friend, launching into Quidditch talk almost immediately after Hermione was out of sight.

Hermione flew down the hall, her breathing heavy and eyes straight in front of her. There was no mistaking the spark of unstilted energy that had transferred into her hand from Malfoy when they touched. Hermione's blood was racing in her veins. She stopped for a moment near a suit of armor, examining her hand in the dimming evening light. She half expected to see a raw, red burn marring the smooth skin of her palm as she turned it over.

When nothing appeared on her hand, she looked up, confused and continued to the library. The minute she walked through the door, she knew he was there. It wasn't the group of girls who seemed attached to the ten feet following Draco lately hiding (poorly) behind a shelf that tipped her off. She felt her heart race again, every cell in her body aching for something nearby. Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to right her mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Nothing remotely involving Harry Potter belongs to me.**

**A/N: Yay! You guys are so fabulous!! I wanted to get a quick chapter out for all you wonderful, wonderful supporters and the few reviewers. I'm so happy someone actually read this. Much less enjoyed it! Please let me know if anything needs clarification or if you have any suggestions for anything. I ALWAYS welcome feedback! Enjoy my lovelies!**

He felt her the minute she came through the doors. Every cell in his body was yearning to be near her, touch her, hold her against him. Draco groaned in frustration quietly into the shelves, burying himself deeper within the deep rows of books. It was getting to be unbearable. The instant his hand brushed against her, the instinct to take her swelled exponentially within him. He came to the library to calm down, return his heartbeat to normal and avoid the bustle of the hallway. He had just begun to calm himself when he felt her enter.

* * *

Hermione opened her eyes and allowed herself to look in his direction and find the he had disappeared. She sighed, feeling a slight loss at his absence. Her senses quickly returned and shook her head at her silly actions and utterly insane feelings, heading for her favorite table near the window in her sanctuary. Hermione dropped her books off, still feeling a dull ache in her core to be nearer to something unknown. She entered the stacks, moving aimlessly throughout them, waiting for something to catch her eye.

* * *

Draco winced, hurrying around the shelf before she could see him. He watched her, absentmindedly glancing at the shelved tomes that look of curiosity and insatiable love for learning etched on her face. Since he came into his inheritance and discovered her as his mate, Draco found himself taking joy in all her little mannerisms he had never paid attention to before. The way she bit her lip and wrinkled her forehead when she was in deep thought, her relaxed smile when she was with her friends, the way she stifled a yawn with her hand, and his favorite, the way her head tilted back, exposing her beautiful neck and glowing skin when she laughed.

* * *

She ran her hands over the spines of the books, waiting for one to call out to her. Her mind drifted back to the incident in the hall, all her books scattered on the floor. Hermione had noticed it. Malfoy was different this year. He seemed to have lost his callous sense of humor, still snarky to be sure, but not hurtful. Certainly, everyone had changed since the war. Families, including the Malfoys, were stronger, closer, and everyone had matured. She stopped, sitting on the floor, her back against the stacks and sighed, letting her head rest back against a shelf of Charms texts.

Ron was so sure Hogwarts wouldn't open after the war. They had lost so many, her heart clenched at the thought, (Draco felt her pain in the next row of books, sitting opposite her and made a slight move to go to her before catching himself.) Hermione took in a deep, strong breath to steady herself and moved past the thoughts of loss. Sure enough, the Wizarding community had come back strong, offering a well of support for the reconstruction of the school and reestablishment of educational foundations. Many students whose educations were disrupted by the war returned to finish as best they could. Hermione leapt at the chance to finish, never satisfied with the amount of learning she had accomplished, and convinced Ron it was important to join her. Harry had his doubts about needing further education, but Hogwarts was still a home to him, and he returned more than willingly.

Ginny, of course, returned along with most of the younger students. Draco was one of the only Slytherins to come back, Pansy and Blaise with him. Dean and Seamus were back, and Neville, most everyone who hadn't suffered a life-threatening injury or perished in the battles were back, working diligently to catch up on all the material they had missed.

Hermione wiped a tear away, not realizing she had let herself crack as she thought once more about the pain, so closely entwined with the pain of loss at returning without all the friends she had held so dear. She sniffled and stood up, bracing herself against the shelf for a moment to get her balance back.

* * *

Draco couldn't hold back anymore. She was hurting, and he could feel it. And he hated it. He had to go to her, hold her. He felt the intense need to wipe her tears away and hold her heart in his hands, cradling it softly and soothing it. The war had been awful for everyone, even with the good that came from it. The rediscovery of his parents' love for him had been a small but worthwhile outcome of the Final Battle. His respect for Harry had only grown since then, and his abhorrence of his past behavior toward him and his friends grew with it, especially when he thought of Hermione.

"Hey," He called softly, turning the corner as she wiped furiously at her eyes, "alright Hermione?" Draco moved slowly, gently toward her, not wanting to frighten her. After all, she still thought he hated her, he was sure. She startled at his presence and backed away infinitesimally. His heart clenched. "I just, I heard you crying." He spoke quietly, soothingly, worried at how she would react.

"I'm fine Malfoy." She spoke spitefully, but not with as much hate as he expected. Hermione looked up defiantly at his face and their eyes locked.

Her still watering eyes glistened in the soft light of the library and the setting sun. His eyes, dark with things unspoken melted into her deeply. The quickening feeling within her began again, suddenly she couldn't breathe. Her mind was completely wiped blank, her pulse flying through her, every beat wanting her to move closer to him. He studied her reaction, searched her eyes for any slight glimpse of her he could extract.

Confusion.

Enchantment.

Fear.

She began to shake with anticipation, anticipation she didn't understand and didn't want to explore. He couldn't look away, though he knew it was frightening her. She was caught, a gentle and delicate doe, vulnerable under his strong and imposing stare. He didn't mean to be forceful; it was simply his nature, the beast within him. She gasped, remembering at once that her body needed oxygen and blinked rapidly, breaking the tense connection between them. It felt like the air, which had been charged with electricity, but unmoving between them had been rushed away by a cold and awakening burst of wind.

"Hermione…" He trailed off, his hand lingered in the air between them awkwardly. He longed to bridge the gap and feel the sting of that exquisite flame of her skin.

"I need to go." She all but whispered. "Harry and Ron will be wondering where I am." Hermione avoided looking at him fervently. "I'll see you in class Draco." She left quickly with her eyes on the floor, not once looking back at him.

He smiled. She said his name when she left. '_Draco_.' He thought, reveling in the way it rolled off her tongue so decadently. It was a small victory, but it was progress. And as he took a step, he felt his heart dancing with hope.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: It all belongs to Jo.**

**A/N: Happy Thanksgiving!!**

Hermione sighed heavily, staring up at the curtains around her four-poster. She went through the day in her head, over and over, trying to figure out where exactly things had gotten so strange. Breakfast, normal. Classes, normal. Lunch, normal, beside from the atypical menu of grilled cheese (not that she was complaining). She had spent her evening studying in the Gryffindor Common Room and since the twins had left it was always fairly normal. Hermione smiled at the thought of the twins. She allowed herself to remember the devious smiles on their faces, the chuckle waiting to escape from their lips. Then she thought about how strange it still felt to see George alone.

The feelings of loss she had managed to escape earlier in the day came back in full force and her breath caught in her throat. She tried to distract her mind, thinking back to dinner. Hermione couldn't remember anything strange until her collision with Draco in the corridor. She was convinced someone had put something in her drink or charmed her in some way. Her views towards Draco were becoming completely skewed. She found a curiosity within herself that she never expected. A curiosity to talk to him, to know him.

Harry thought he was fine, she supposed. They hadn't been rude to each other in the slightest, that Hermione knew of, and they seem fairly amicable around one another. Though compared to how they were before the war, it had a lot of room to improve. Ron was still convinced he was evil. Then again, Ron was always extremely stubborn. Hermione had to admit; just today she had said he would never change. But now, something told her otherwise. Something was pulling her toward him. Something she didn't understand in the slightest.

* * *

Draco sat in the library for nearly an hour after Hermione had left, with a dazed look on his face. His mind was racing through any plan he could think of to help Hermione see that he was different, and how very much he had come to care. His schemes were frequently interrupted by his anticipations of her expressions and reactions to each. Draco savored every one of her expressions that he could recreate in his mind. He thought of nothing else for the past few weeks. His desire for her had only grown stronger with the time and him instincts were urging things to move faster. He wanted her. Badly.

With a sigh he finally resigned to the one thing he didn't want to have to do. He come to the conclusion that he would have to write his mother and inform her that he had found his mate, but had absolutely no idea how to get closer to her. Draco knew that as soon as she received it, she would be overjoyed and start planning the wedding, the schedule of expected grandchildren, every detail down to the undergarments Hermione would have for the wedding.

He hung his head, unable to think of any other option than to go to the source, someone who would know what it felt like every step of the way. Both of his parents would have important advice for him, and Hermione when the time came…If he could win her over. He flinched at the thought of not being able to gain her favor and help her learn to love him. If she refused him, his life would be miserable, unbearable. Draco was sure the pain from her rejection alone would end him.

He remembered the way his name sounded on her lips. It sent shivers through him, desire to every cell of his body, his pulse quickened, throat tightened and hands went clammy. Draco could only imagine how it would feel to hold her, kiss her, if just thinking about her brought him so many pleasurable reactions. Hermione was his only thought. He dreamed of her nightly, he thought of her constantly, he watched for her always, Draco could feel his affections growing.

What could have possibly caused such a change in just one day? That morning, he had hated her for being the one. He had hated the way he couldn't resist anything about her. And now? Now he relished in it. Draco couldn't even remember when his feelings had changed so dramatically. His horrid mood earlier at dinner had led him to follow her, the veela in him begging him not to go through with the violent plans he had for her.

Then he figured it out with a start, halfway to the Owlery, stopping short. When their hands touched, when he had made physically contact with her it was like every ounce of anger and hatred he had for her ran from every pore in his body, replaced with nothing but desire and love.

* * *

Three weeks later, the castle was nearly deserted. Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny had decided to stay for the holiday, as it would be the last one they could all share. Draco stayed because Hermione did. He couldn't bear to be that far from her, knowing she was safe and in the castle was one of the only things that pacified him. Draco had taken to staying in his room, to himself, or being out at the library, the lake, but always alone.

Anyone's company just seemed to aggravate him, he learned quickly it was better to avoid his friends and allow his mind, and senses, to focus on Hermione. While it was tortuous to smell her, hear her, and see her without being able to talk to her or touch her, knowing that she was near calmed him greatly.

Since the incident in the library, she had tried to avoid him as best she could. Hermione was extremely nervous that someone had charmed her and was hoping desperately the next time she was forced to talk to him, it would have worn off. She was also getting extremely annoyed that she couldn't even stand the touch of any of her other friends. Ron had tried to hug her when she got too cold near the lake and it made her feel incredibly sick.

"Hermione?" Harry looked at her worriedly. "Are you alright?"

She continued to stare into the fire, feeling completely empty despite all the holiday cheer buzzing through the common room. "Fine." She spoke quietly, not breaking her blank gaze at the dancing flames.

"You really haven't been yourself lately you know." He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Hermione flinched away and gasped, a wave of nausea flowing through her. "Maybe you should go get some air." Harry suggested.

"Yeah." Hermione was unfocused, standing and heading to her room to get her warm cloak. "That sounds good actually. A walk might help me clear my mind."

"I think a walk is a fabulous idea." Harry smiled at her warmly. He truly loved her like a sister, and wanted nothing but her to be happy.

* * *

Hermione walked aimlessly around the grounds, paying a Christmas visit to Dumbledore's tomb, and found herself next to a large tree by the lake. She sighed, gazing up at the vast dark blue sky and smiling at the stars. "What is wrong with me?" She felt so defeated, she couldn't help but cry.

"Nothing." Hermione turned, startled and wiped violently at her eyes.

"Did you follow me?" Draco chuckled softly at her anger, smiling at his feet.

"Yes." He looked up at her, gauging her expression. Still angry. "I couldn't help it."

"What?" Hermione was seething, her peaceful, private moment interrupted by the one thing she was trying to avoid.

"You looked lonely. I thought I'd offer some company." His expression was hopeful, but guarded. Hermione had never seen him so unsure, or staring at his feet so much before. Her anger melted away and she felt the familiar feeling of longing replace it. It made her so confused, she wanted to cry again.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"Doing what?"

"Why can't you just leave me alone? Tell whoever is putting this stupid charm on me to stop it." Her voice wavering, tears threatening. "I can't stand feeling like I can't be away from you anymore." Hermione gave in and sobbed.

Draco felt his heart break and rushed to hold her. She gasped when his arms wrapped protectively around her. He sighed, relieved and content when her arms snaked around his waist and pulled his comforting presence closer against her. Even through their thick winter cloaks, she could feel the heat radiating from him and wanted nothing but to bury herself deeper into it. Draco was in pure ecstasy. Having her in his arms and knowing she wanted him there made his heart swell to ten times its size.

Her sobs slowed down, then stopped altogether, but she still hadn't pulled away from him. Hermione was trying to decide if he had always smelled this good, or if his arms looked as strong as they felt. "Thank you." She mumbled into his dark cloak before pulling away reluctantly.

Draco let his hands slip from her shoulders, and felt instantly freezing. "You're welcome Hermione."

She sighed heavily. "Would you please tell me what's going on Draco? Why do I feel this way about you? So suddenly." Hermione looked at her shoes. "What have you done to me?"

He tried to speak, faltered, and opened his mouth again. "It's complicated." She looked skeptically and frustrated at him. "I haven't charmed you, and as far as I know, no one else has either."

"Then what's going on?"

"I…I'm not like you."

"Oh." She was angry again. "Great time to bring up how elite your pureblood is!"

"Hermione." Draco grabbed her shoulders, trying to calm her. "That's not what I meant. I mean…I'm not like other wizards. I-" He couldn't find the words; he wanted to tell her everything. The words just got stuck in his throat. "I'm…I'm in love with you."


End file.
