That Never Told Can Be

Additional disclaimer: "Love's Secret" was written by William Blake and is his property and/or that of his publishers.

"I love you," he said, and the whole world fell apart.

"What do you mean?" she asked warily, not knowing whether to be afraid or to not believe him.

"God, Granger, when will you learn? There's not a textbook definition for everything." He looked at her, and she looked away. "What is it, then, Granger? Will you look at me? Will you?"

She wouldn't.

---

In the back corner of the library, Hermione slid several books from the shelves and pulled out a roll of parchment. The N.E.W.T. paper, possibly one of the more arduous assignments of seventh year, was not due for months, but as always, she wanted a head start. The fact that she had chosen possibly the most difficult topic was not even a challenge to her. The challenge, rather, presented itself less than an hour later.

"Granger, can't you find another spot to foul up? You know this is where I work." Draco Malfoy was leaned against a bookcase with an expression of utmost annoyance on his face.

Hermione paused writing, but did not look up. "No, Malfoy, I didn't know. I'm sure there's another place in the library where you can terrorize Muggle-borns. I'm working on my N.E.W.T. paper and I need the books in this section," she said.

He couldn't take orders from that Mudblood. Throwing his books on the table, Draco sat across from her and considered another way to make her leave.

She wouldn't. Not that day, or the next, or the next....

It was disconcerting, really, to come to his favorite place in the library and always find her there. Didn't she have anything else to do? Why couldn't she be finishing a different homework assignment, or snogging Weasley, or something else? This was his place, his only time away from Crabbe and Goyle and Pansy. He wasn't about to share it with Hermione Granger.

Draco had never felt so pathetic in his life. It would be easy to scare Potter out, or some terrified first-year, but he had never had so much trouble with Hermione Granger. Neither of them was willing to risk this secluded place being infiltrated by teachers or classmates, so they resorted to Draco trying to aggravate Hermione into leaving and Hermione trying not to listen.

This is ridiculous, Hermione thought. Is it so hard to find somewhere else to go? Why does Malfoy get such a perverse pleasure out of frustrating people? She glanced across the table, where Draco was grinding his teeth and tapping his wand on the table, sending sparks across her parchment.

This is ridiculous, Draco thought. My father would be ashamed of me, wasting my time away with this Mudblood. He daydreamed about ways to scare her away, send her off screaming, and never come back. Those fantasies never came true; each day he returned only to realize that she was not about to leave. It was like an annoying itch, never going away no matter how many times it was scratched.

Except itches never argue back.

---

He kissed her.

Damn.

Draco didn't know if he had done it just to get her away or if there had been another reason. Either way, she had broken her stubborn resolve and left. He had spent several months trying to achieve this, and now--damn.

It was a stupid thing to do. She had stopped replying, even sarcastically, to his desperate retorts. Cursing a girl would have been too crude, but his patience had snapped. Why wouldn't she just leave?

"Damn it, Mudblood! Will you leave me alone already?" He threw her parchment to the floor, pushed a stack of books over. A puddle of ink spread across her notes.

Wordlessly she knelt by the fallen rolls of parchment and siphoned off the ink, repaired the bottle. She would not look at him. Feeling entirely idiotic and unsuccessful, Draco dropped to his knees and collected the remainder of the scattered notes.

"You know, Malfoy," she said acidly, "You wouldn't have to stoop to my level if you would only be reasonable." Her eyes flashed with anger and she pulled the notes toward her.

"Reasonable, Granger? Since when am I reasonable? If either of us were reasonable, we'd have just--"

He stopped, because her eyes were cast downward and he saw a trace of tears. Without thinking, Draco slipped his hand under her chin and lifted up her head. And then he did it--damn.

The paper was due in a month, but hers was almost finished--he'd seen it countless times. Why did she keep coming back? Would she come back now, after this?

He could almost feel the answer on his lips. She--oh, damn it, Draco, just wait and see.

The question tortured him through the night and the next day. Draco entered the library with dread and made his way slowly to the back corner. He knew she wouldn't be there--and yet there she was, sitting with books closed and quill down. As Draco approached the table, Hermione rose and began to pick up her belongings, never meeting his eyes. She didn't even look up when he put his hand on her arm and asked her to sit down. She just sat, trembling, waiting for him to talk.

"I want you to know that you're free to use this section of the library whenever you want," he said. "I'm just making an ass of myself. It's not even mine. I'm just being, well, you know..." Draco took a deep breath and tried to forget his Malfoy roots. "I'm sorry."

She didn't say anything, so he continued lamely, "I guess I'll just... go, then."

Draco hadn't even turned to leave before her hand was in his and she pulled him down to sit. He merely blinked in surprise. She didn't look upset. Was she laughing at him? Was this another contrary attempt to defy him? She was smiling, almost.

"Stay," she said. "I might not be able to concentrate on my work without your voice to block out." Her smile was definitely mischievous; Draco only felt more idiotic. Did a Malfoy just apologize to a muggle-born girl who was going to mock him? That couldn't happen.

Fortunately, it didn't.

This time, it was she who kissed him.

---

It was one of those stupid things, most likely. Maybe it was because he had his future in Muggle-killing and she had hers in some lofty, noble profession. Maybe it was because Potter and the Weasel seemed more possessive each day. Maybe the library wasn't a good place; maybe the secrets were getting too hard to keep, maybe--

He found Hermione after her Arithmancy class, where there would be no nosy Gryffindors to cast suspicious looks on him. He didn't say anything, but she saw him and he knew she would follow him to the library, to that forgotten corner surrounded by books only they would read. The paper, of course, had been due last week. Of course she didn't have any reason to return, but he thought maybe....

"You turned one in, too," she said. "You know I don't need to come anymore, you don't need me here anymore. What did you expect?"

"Granger..." he said. She had never liked him to call her by her first name, wrinkling her nose and saying it made him look too much like a Gryffindor. She liked his Slytherin side, she had said. She had said....

"What do I expect?" he asked her. "What can't I expect? Why else would you stay here, coming every day, to study when you could have checked out the entire library? Why did you spend your time writing in here when it would be easier to concentrate without me? Why did you ask me to stay and let me do what I did? You finished your paper, Granger, long before you stopped coming here. Why else would you do it? Why did I stay?"

She fixed her eyes on his, took a step toward him, and spoke.

"You stayed because I wouldn't leave. I stayed because you wouldn't. Don't you see it, Draco? Take your head out of the clouds and realize what it's actually about."

He didn't understand. His eyes glittered less with bitterness but more with confusion.

"You know, a good liar can look you in the eyes and tell you something false. What are you, Granger? Are you telling the truth? What is it, really?"

She broke her stare for a moment and her brow creased with confusion. In a second she regained her composure and her eyes narrowed once again.

"Pride, Draco. What have we always had in common? Pride. It's just defiance, really, that we've lived by this whole time. We're continually challenging each other, and why? It's all from pride! What else could it be?" Hermione fought tears, knowing it would take more to convince him. "What else, Draco?"

"I love you," he said, and the whole world fell apart.

Author's Note: The title, which may seem completely irrelevant, is a reference to William Blake's "Love's Secret." Despite what the poem may say, you're free to decide on the end for yourself.

Thank you for reading, and please review!