I continued to stare mutely at the white-blond haired Slytherin as he began to slowly stroke a hand down his jaw, his narrowed grey eyes scrutinising me with curious contemplation.

"I thought Gryffindor won?" He murmured eventually when I gave no explanation to my embarrassingly dramatic entrance.

"You know," I said haughtily, furiously wiping my eyes with the sleeves of my robes. "People have been known to cry at things other than Quidditch."

"Like what?" He asked, his voice light yet inquisitive. "And please don't tell me your tears are for Weasley."

"Don't." I said sharply. "Don't even mention his name."

He remained silent and I looked down, brushing a piece of invisible lint from my robes, trying desperately to distract myself from the ache inside my chest.

Hurried footsteps suddenly echoed down the corridor outside the classroom, getting louder as they neared. A high pitched giggle rang excruciatingly in the air as the footsteps came to a halt on the other side of the door. The unmistakable sound of lips smacking against lips assaulted our ears and I stepped away from the door in a sickening horror. "Oh, Won Won - you are so naughty!"

Quite automatically, it seemed, my eyes went to Draco's and he held my gaze long enough for me to see a look of pity flit across his face.

Without warning, he got to his feet and, complete with scowl, he swept across the classroom towards me. I felt nothing but alarm, wondering what on earth he was going to do, when he motioned me aside and reached for the door around me.

"Wait - no!" I hissed, realising too late what he was doing as he yanked the door wide open and stepped out into the corridor.

Not knowing what else to do, I cowered silently behind the door, keeping out of sight in the classroom and holding my breath in fearful anticipation.

"Do you mind?" I heard him snarl viciously. "Some of us are trying to study in here and do not wish to have listen to you two doing your best impersonation of a pair of ravenous cannibals!"

"Fuck off, Malfoy," Ron's voice muttered back as Lavender giggled nervously. "If I want to kiss my girl, then I'll bloody well kiss her wherever I want to!"

"Not outside this classroom you won't," Draco warned, his tone low and dangerous. "Not if you know what's good for you, Weasley."

Nothing else was said, and I could only surmise from the sound of hurried footsteps, that Draco had scared them off with his deathly and intimidating glare.

He came back into the classroom, dusting off his hands in the same manner as someone having just thrown out the rubbish.

My heart was racing as I looked up at him. "You- you didn't have to do that."

"Yes I did," he said without a beat as he closed the door behind him. "It was putting me off my thinking."

I frowned, suddenly recalling how desolate he'd looked when I had come crashing in unannounced.

"Malfoy, what were you doing in here?" I asked, feeling suddenly bold. "And why weren't you at the match? I thought you loved Quidditch?"

He shrugged, straightening his suit jacket as, without looking at me, he strode across the classroom back to the desk he'd been at, falling lazily into the chair behind it.

Hesitantly, I decided to do the same, choosing a seat two desks away from his. Not too close, but yet close enough to be able to converse with ease.

"You weren't at our last study session either," I added tentatively when he still hadn't responded. "Was it- was it about what happened to Katie Bell?"

His eyes shot up at once, glaring at me fiercely. "Leave it, Granger," he bit. "Don't go sticking your bushy head into places where it's not wanted."

I turned my face away, not wanting him to see how his words had stung me.

"You asked for me," I said quietly. "You wanted me to help you."

"No, I wanted to get McGonagall off my back, so I simply said the first name that came into my head. I wouldn't make anything of it."

His whole demeanour was so bitter, so cold. But somehow I knew it wasn't directed at me. And I also knew he didn't want me to leave, because if he did, he would have told me to fuck off the second I'd stepped inside. He wasn't exactly one known for niceties.

"The thing is," I said slowly, choosing my words carefully, "if you don't do these study sessions, then she'll fail you."

"So?" Draco spat. "Like I give a fuck? What use is Transfiguration, anyway? What use is any of this? At the end of the day, we are all going to go the same way, so what's the point?"

Wow. This was one serious mood.

"Don't you want a career?" I asked, "a purpose? Yes, we're all going to die eventually, but it doesn't mean to say that we can't make the journey worth living along the way."

"Quit with your words of fucking wisdom, Granger. I'm not the one crying in here over a pathetic little weasel. Who, from what I just witnessed, kisses with all the elegance of a hoover sucking up dirt."

I raised my eyebrows. "And I suppose you kiss like the king of the playboy mansion, do you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He smirked.

Our eyes met again, and I found myself instantly looking away, blushing.

A loaded silence fell between us. One that didn't seem to bother him, but made me feel highly uncomfortable.

"Look- I'd better be going," I said, quickly standing up. "Sorry about barging in on you like that..."

Without meeting his eyes, I turned and marched towards the door, only to find fingers snapping around my wrist, halting me in my tracks.

"Draco, what-?"

I whirled around, to find him suddenly so close. My breath caught in my throat as he gazed down at me, his eyes seeming to swirl and darken at the same time.

"You're worth a hundred of her."

And before I could react, he pulled me roughly up against him and he was suddenly silencing my gasp with the crush of his lips.

Full of shock, I froze. And then his hand was clasping the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair. I could feel his lips move with encouragement, urging me to respond.

Something in my body reacted, and it seemed to take on a life of its own as my lips parted, allowing him to begin to attack my mouth with burning yet gentle kisses. An invasion of pins and needles tingled every inch of my skin as he pulled me in, his hands stroking me, wanting me, needing me.

Without even knowing it was going to happen, a small whimpering moan vibrated in the back of my throat, causing him to still.

He lifted his head just enough so that his eyes were looking curiously into mine, our ragged hot breaths hitting each other's faces. The sound of our hearts pounding could be heard beneath our heaving chests, and he untangled his hand from my hair to tenderly cup long cool fingers against the side of my neck.

"Hermione," he breathed hoarsely, resting his forehead down against mine.

It was like a douse of ice cold water, extinguishing the flame he had just lit inside of me. The sound of my name on his lips just reminded me that this very boy I was kissing used to call me, up until very recently, a word driven from complete and utter hatred.

I quickly pulled back, twisting away from his embrace, leaving him looking slightly dazed and confused.

"You had no right-" I breathed, my heart suddenly racing horrifically fast, my breathing becoming tight and shallow. "You had no right to kiss me. I was upset - you knew I was upset about Ron."

Oh god, oh god. How could everything have unravelled so horrifically fast? First Ron kisses Lavender, and then I end up kissing Draco Malfoy - a boy who is most likely part of an evil cult who believes people like me should be strung up and quartered!

"Granger, calm down," Draco muttered as I wrung my hands through my hair and began to hyperventilate. "It was just a kiss. We can forget it ever happened."

"No I can't!" I said shrilly, looking at him wide eyed. "That was my first kiss! The one I'd been saving for someone else! And you stole it!"

Tears were already pricking at my eyes, and I'd be damned if I let him see me cry again. So I turned and fled out of the classroom, leaving him standing there staring after me in complete bafflement.

But, I asked myself as I hurried back through the hallways, tears rolling furiously down my cheeks, had my anger really been about the fact that he stole my first kiss?

Or was it because, deep down, I had actually really liked it...?

*****