Finding Angels

Hermione glared fiercely at Malfoy. "I hate you," she hissed.

A sneer was all she got. "We're on even ground then, Mudblood."

Hermione was so mad she shook. She was SO sick of him! And before he knew what was happening she slapped him. Hard.

The pale boy reeled, silver-blond hair falling into his eyes. For a moment, she thought he looked hurt, but his eyes quickly regained their steely-gray appearance. "You'll regret that, Granger." Malfoy turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

Hermione glared at his retreating back when something fell out of his book bag. Well, she wasn't about to tell him. When he was gone she inched over and picked it up. It looked plain enough, just brown leather. There was no writing on the outside to indicate what it was.

She tried opening it, and to her surprise, it did. She wondered if she had been expecting a locking charm. 'Duh, Mio,' she thought, 'You can't put a locking charm on a book! I think.' Hmm, she'd have to research that.

Hermione glanced at the time and then hurried to her next class. Stupid Malfoy! She didn't get any lunch. When she got there, she realized she was clutching the book and she stuffed it in her bookbag. She soon forgot all about it.

---------

That evening, Hermione searched around in her bag to find the book she was reading, but instead found the small leather book. She debated over whether or not to read it. 'Oh, come on Mio,' she thought. 'For once, don't worry. Just read the stupid thing!' Her logic seemed flawed, but nevertheless, she opened it.

Her eyes fell on the top of the page. Written in scrawling dark blue ink were the words "When at Dusk I Fall Upon the Wayside". Intrigued, Hermione read on. She soon noticed it was a poem. It went like this.

When at Dusk I Fall Upon the Wayside

In the daylight
I can not help but shine
Leading others
But
When at dusk I fall upon the wayside
Creeping shadows
Close me round
Steal now long forgotten dreams.
Their searching fingers,
Contemptible eyes,
Hungry mouths
Search me out and
Steal the daylight from my world.
Everything ends
When at dusk I fall upon the wayside.

Hermione blinked repeatedly. Malfoy wrote poetry? Brows furrowed in confusion, she read the book. Eventually she looked forward the turn of each page, wondering what beautiful-well, maybe not beautiful, but certainly intriguing poem awaited her. She devoured each one, eyes sparkling. They all glowed with the true feelings of the one person she hated...

Or thought she did.

One poem, nearing the back of the book stopped her. She read it quite a few times, pain stabbing her heart each time. This page was written in angry but desperate scrawl, and small blotches covered the pages. Malfoy had clearly been crying when he wrote it. She re-read it, her eyes lingering on each word.

Mistakes

I have been told each day is a miracle
So I have been told.
I am not sure if I believe them.
For me, each day is a mistake.
Where every action is
Dictated
By an outside Force--
Family honor or reputation or pride.
I wish I could tell my pride to

Lose it.
I wish I could
Cast away

My family.
I wish I didn't have this

Damn reputation.

I wish someone knew
And could pull me out of this life the
Story-me
Leads.
I wish I were free to be
ME
And could make each day
A miracle
Not
A
Mistake.

Reluctantly, she flipped the page, and realized she had reached the end. Almost. On this page there seemed to be another poem. Hermione read it, but it was clearly not finished, and had no title.

Darkness.
It seems to know me.
I am its long forgotten friend.
I can not help my soul is made of
Shadows.
But there can not be darkness without light.
So grasping, I reach for the glimmer of light
In my life.
Even as Darkness knows me
My shadowed heart yearns for light.
For those shadows in my soul
Are cast by light
In me.
Somewhere.
But I can not seem to find it.

Gently, Hermione closed the book and held it close to her chest, tears glistening in her eyes. She did not shed them, only took three deep breaths and shook it off. She had no doubt that Mal-Draco, she corrected herself, wrote them.

Biting her lip, she was unsure what to do now. She could not continue to hate Draco. He was clearly in much pain. Oh, god. She didn't hate Draco Malfoy. What was the world coming to? She had to get it back to him. But how? Very confused, Hermione hid her head in her hands.

---------

Draco feigned sleep, waiting until his roommates breathing had evened. He pulled out his wand and whispered "Lumos." He stuck the wand underneath his bed, and then after a bit of looking, pulled out his bag. Pulling it onto his bed he searched for a certain leather book. He got more and more frantic when he couldn't find it. He dumped the contents on his bed. The book wasn't there. He paled. He'd lost it. What if someone found it? What if they read it?

He could feel the reason he had wanted it start to slip away from him. He had suddenly known how to finish the poem he'd started. Hastily, he grabbed a paper and closed his eyes. He let the ideas go. He never read his poems until he was done. Just wrote them. He knew from experience you couldn't force poetry. You just had to be open to it. Crisis averted, he began to fret about the little journal. How was he going to find it?

Rubbing his forehead, he stuffed the books back in the bag and put it underneath his bed. He was not going to worry about it now. He was tired. "Crap," he mumbled...

---------

Hermione sat at the breakfast table, quite agitated. She had had very strange dreams that night, all of which involved a young silver-blond boy. She couldn't believe she'd dreamt about MALFOY of all people. Sure, he wrote damn good poetry, but that didn't give him reason to haunt her dreams. She was quite worried about the way her stomach did flip-flops when ever she happened to glance over at the Slytherin table and see him. She was very very confused. Which did not happen to her often. She did NOT like being confused. She liked being sure of what she was talking about. Being confused also lessens the appetite.

Unfortunately, Harry had noticed she wasn't eating anything. "Hermione?"

She jumped. "What? What?"

"Are you okay?" His eyes clearly said, "Are you going CRAZY?"

She forced a laugh. "Yeah. Fine. Just tired."

"Okay..." giving her a look that said he wasn't sure if he believed her, he began to talk to Ron about Quidditch.

Hermione groaned. How boring. Since she clearly couldn't eat, and Ron and Harry were being boring, she got up. "Uh, see you later guys. I'm going to go study." Which was her plan until she saw Malfoy get up and go out the door, unusually without his cronies. Here was her chance. She almost ran out of the hall. Whirling through corridors, she saw his back. He seemed to be looking for something. It took her a while to find her voice. "Malfoy!" She called.

---------

Draco sat at the Slytherin table, trying to ignore Crabbe and Goyle while they inhaled food, and Pansy hanging on him. He couldn't eat. He was too worried about his stupid book. He had just HAD to go and lose it, didn't he? He had a very uncomfortable sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. The school was huge. He'd never find it. Brushing off Pansy, he got up from the table and headed out into the corridors. He'd only been out there a little while, looking for the book, when someone behind him called, "Malfoy!" He turned.

---------

He turned, and raised an eyebrow at her. "Uh, hi," she stuttered.

"What? You did not call me just to say hi." His drawl was slow and even, his eyes glaring.

Hermione could feel herself blushing. Her stomach was doing flip-flops again. "Um...I think I have something of yours..."

Malfoy's eyes widened in fear. "God, no..." she could hear him barely breathe.

After searching in her bookbag she held up the leather book. "This is yours, I think."

Malfoy snatched it, eyes narrowed. "How did you get it?"

"Uh...you dropped it..."

"Did you read it?"

Stupid Malfoy. She couldn't talk properly. "Yeah-um-maybe."

Malfoy's mouth worked silently. He was staring at her, and she felt herself grow nervous underneath his gaze. Silently she willed him to say something--anything! If her stomach flipped one more time, she was going to throw up, and she didn't think she could get any redder.

"You read it."

"Yes."

"Fuck."

"Hey! Watch it!"

"Oh, sod off, Granger."

"Um...You probably don't care about my opinion..."

"You're right. I don't."

"Shut up! But those were pretty good. Really good, actually." Malfoy didn't say anything. She snuck a look at him from staring at the floor. He seemed very interested in a crack on the wall. She chuckled.

"Hey! What's so funny?"

"Nothing." Still laughing.

"Nobody laughs for no reason."

"You just seemed very interested in a crack on the wall. Can't you take praise?"

Malfoy's face clouded. "I've never gotten any. That goes to stupid Potter and you and all the prat Gryffindors."

For some reason, the statement didn't make her mad, just sad. Which in turn made her confused. Darn it! She hated being confused. "Hey, Malfoy, I'm sorry."

---------

Draco raised an eyebrow at her.

"Uh, hi." She seemed quite unsure of herself. Very unlike her.

Annoyed, he drawled at her, "What? You did not call me just to say hi." Secretly, he wondered why she did. She quite violently hated him, as he had learned yesterday. He thought he noticed her blush a little. Hermione was acting quite out of character today.

"Um...I think I have something of yours..."

His eyes widened in fear. "God, no," he breathed. 'Please no please no please no don't let her have it don't let her have read it oh god crap crap crap'. His thoughts were tripping over themselves.

She rummaged around in her bag, and then held up the little book he had been searching for. "This is yours, I think."

He snatched it quickly, as if taking it back fast would erase any memory of it from her mind. Unfortunately, he knew it wouldn't. He glared at her, eyes narrowed. "How did you get it?"

"Uh...you dropped it..."

"Did you read it?" This was the all-important question. 'Please say no please say no please say no' his thoughts chanted.

"Yeah-um-maybe."

Malfoy's mouth worked silently. He stared at her, quite unsure of what to say. She seemed quite uncomfortable under his gaze, and got a little redder. "You read it," he choked out.

"Yes."

"Fuck." He didn't know what else to say. What else WAS there to say?

"Hey! Watch it!"

"Oh, sod off, Granger."

"Um...You probably don't care about my opinion..."

"You're right. I don't." He did, but he wasn't going to let her know that. He wasn't going to let her know that besides him, she was the only person who knew the book existed and had read it. She now knew much more about him than he felt comfortable having her know. And he wanted to know what she thought about his deepest secret. But he wasn't going to let her know.

"Shut up! But those were pretty good. Really good, actually."

He didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. He'd never EVER really gotten praise before, besides from Snape. But he was biased. He didn't count.

She chuckled. Oh. She was just kidding. She didn't like them at all. She was just playing with him. She hated him after all. "Hey! What's so funny?"

"Nothing." Still laughing.

"Nobody laughs for no reason." He winced once he said that. He sounded whiny, and really stupid.

"You just seemed very interested in a crack on the wall. Can't you take praise?"

Malfoy's face clouded. He felt, for some strange reason, that he'd been punched in the stomach as well as very relieved at the same time. "I've never gotten any. That goes to stupid Potter and you and all the prat Gryffindors." He watched her reaction. He was very surprised at what she said next.

"Hey, Malfoy, I'm sorry."

He started. "For what?"

She twisted a hair around her finger. "Uh. I'm not sure. For saying that I hated you I guess. And...well, I guess it's not fair for you. You were always so mean, I never thought about WHY you were. I usually don't hate people, 'cause I usually put myself in their shoes. But you never gave me time to cool down and think about it. I'm not blaming you. I don't now. But there is a way for people to notice you with out being mean." She smiled at him after this.

He repeatedly had to gasp for air during this speech. Granger didn't hate him? And when she said he was 'so mean' he felt like some one took a hammer to his heart and started beating it. But when she said she didn't blame him, the pieces re-mended themselves, and started beating wildly. And when she smiled at him, his heart turned over. He was now quite confused, and the only thing he could say was, "You don't hate me?"

She laughed, a melodious sound that floated over him like music. "No. I can't."

He didn't know why it affected him so much. He was so used to people hating him, he shouldn't care whether they liked him or not. He didn't. But that was just it. He was used to people HATING him. When they didn't he didn't know how to deal with that. The not hating, well, it threw him through a loop. Nevermind, it threw his HEART through a loop. Which made him very confused. "You can't? But I'm so mean! You said so yourself!" He pleaded silently with her to hate him, to make everything normal again.

---------

"For what?"

She twisted a hair around her finger. "Uh. I'm not sure. For saying that I hated you I guess. And... Well, I guess it's not fair for you. You were always so mean, I never thought about WHY you were. I usually don't hate people, 'cause I usually put myself in their shoes. But you never gave me time to cool down and think about it. I'm not blaming you. I don't now. But there is a way for people to notice you with out being mean." She spilled her guts, well part of them anyway, trying to convey to him that she didn't hate him, but didn't pity him either. She understood! She couldn't help but smile at him.

"You don't hate me?"

She laughed. "No. I can't." He sounded so surprised.

"You can't? But I'm so mean! You said so yourself!" He sounded as if he wanted her to hate him. For some reason, this made her very hurt.

"Do you want me to?"

"Uhhhhhh....."

"Well?" She watched him, as he seemed to struggle to find the answer to her question. It was very important to her, the answer to this question. Because if he said 'no' he would have a heart. It would justify her stomach doing flip flops every time she looked at him, it would justify her blushing every time he spoke, her wondering what his lips would feel like on hers...she gasped and covered her mouth, turning exceedingly red. 'Ohmygod! Did I just think that? Did I just wonder what it would be like to kiss DRACO MALFOY?'

---------

"Do you want me to?"

What was he supposed to say to that? He didn't know! All he could choke out was "Uhhhhhh....."

"Well?" She looked at him expectantly. Then, all of a sudden, she gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. She turned really red.

"Uh, I got to get to class, yeah," he stuttered out. He sounded like an idiot! But that didn't matter, as she obviously didn't want to be here. Why else would she act like that?

"Class. Yeah. Right. Class." She nodded.

Not being able to help himself, he turned and watched her walk down the hallway muttering to herself. He only caught a few words, but they made his cheeks turn pink. They were "can't believe", "thinking" and "kiss Malfoy".

---------

Hermione came into History of Magic, cheeks burning. She settled into her seat, and for once didn't listen to Professor Binns. She was too distracted by the face behind her eyelids. The shocked, embarrassed and most definitely HOT face of Malfoy. Suddenly, she felt as if someone had doused her with cold water. Was she actually thinking that Malfoy was hot? And wondering what it would be like to kiss him? She felt her cheeks begin to flame anew. She had to settle for the hard cold facts. She, as of this morning, officially had a crush on Draco Malfoy. Stupid poems. Stupid git. It's his entire fault!

---------

Draco completely ignored Professor Snape. (There were advantages to being the teacher's pet.) He just let his mind wander, and not surprisingly, it quickly settled on the thing that had been bugging him since morning. Granger. He could see her when he closed his eyes, her lovely chocolate brown eyes staring at him guiltily. Gosh, she was cute when she felt guilty. And so kind, too. He didn't think the idea of blackmailing him about him writing poems ever occurred to her. Abruptly, he felt like he'd been slapped. He was spending his class time thinking about a Gryffindor? And that know-it-all Granger, no less! Filthy Mud- but his brain wouldn't let him finish his thought. Fine, muggle-born. He stuck his tongue out at his conscience. He was going crazy. No -- he wasn't, he thought, putting his head in his hands. He LIKED her. Which, technically, was the same thing. Stupid Granger! It's all her fault!

---------

Hermione stormed into the Great Hall, scanning the crowd for a certain silver-blond haired boy. Suddenly, a strong hand pulled her back into the hall.

"Quiet."

She stared up into the steel-gray eyes of Malfoy. She nodded.

"We have to talk. Follow me."

'Typical Slytherin.' "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere we won't be seen."

Hermione was slightly hurt. "Afraid to be seen with me?"

"Quiet!" He hissed, and pulled her into a room hidden behind a tapestry. He glared at her violently.

"This is all your fault!"

They'd spoken at the same time.

"What is?"

Did it again.

Malfoy glared at her. "You first."

Hermione fidgeted, but then thought of something. "No. YOU dragged me here, YOU said we had to talk, YOU go first."

Malfoy glared at her. "Fine. But you won't enjoy hearing it, I assure you."

"Try me."

---------

He saw her standing in the Great Hall. He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her into the halls. He tried to ignore the way his heart rose to his throat at having her so near him. "Quiet."

She nodded.

"We have to talk. Follow me." Understatement of the year.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere we won't be seen."

"Afraid to be seen with me?" He didn't want to answer that question, so he just told Granger to be quiet again, and then pulled her into the little room.

"This is all your fault!"

They'd spoken at the same time.

"What is?"

Did it again.

He glared at her, simply out of habit but he also wanted to intimidate her into going first. "You first."

"No. YOU dragged me here, YOU said we had to talk, YOU go first."

Crap. She was right. Malfoy glared at her. "Fine. But you won't enjoy hearing it, I assure you."

"Try me."

Well, now that he was here, he didn't know how to tell her what he had meant to tell her. But then he knew how. Striding over to her, he pulled her close and planted his lips firmly on hers. She stiffened, so he let her go. Granger looked like she was about to fall over. He smiled crookedly. Nice to know you had that affect on women.

Then Granger did fall, but into a sitting position. Her mouth worked silently, but nothing came out. Finally, he got a response. "God..." she breathed. "What was that?"

He almost laughed, but instead just sat down next to her. "I kissed you."

She raised an eyebrow. "No shit. What I meant was, why? I mean, you hate me."

"Oh. Then why did I kiss you?" He wanted to laugh. This was fun. Plus he'd never heard her cuss before.

"That's where I'm confused. I hate being confused."

"I'm sorry." He grinned widely. "It's just, since this morning, I haven't been able to get you out of my head. Because you're cute, and you're nice, and I heard you say you were thinking about kissing me, and you -- you don't hate me."

Hermione looked at him. "You heard that? Crap. To tell you the truth, Malfoy,"

"Draco," he interrupted.

"Whatever. To tell you the truth, ever since I read those poems I haven't gotten you out of my head either. Stupid poems. No - good poems. That's why they're stupid." She nodded vigorously.

"Hmm," he smiled at her. "They really seem to pick girls up...that could be useful."

"Hey! I didn't say I like you!"

"But you do, don't you?"

"Uh....uh," she fidgeted again, "do you like ME?"

He wasn't sure how to answer that. It would be affirming what he said, but it would kill his family honor -- Screw the honor. He reached in, and kissed her again, wrapping his arms around her. Then he pulled back a little bit, just to look her in the eyes. "Answer your question?"

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"Draco."

"Whatever." She then pulled him towards her, kissing him firmly. When they decided to pull back for a while, she said, "Hey, Malfoy."

"I'm never going to get you to call me Draco, am I."

"Malfoy suits you better. Anyway, you dropped a paper over there."

He got up and picked it up. It was the finished poem. He showed it to her.

Finding Angels

Darkness.
It seems to know me.
I am its long forgotten friend.
I can not help my soul is made of
Shadows.
But there can not be darkness with out light.
So grasping, I reach for the glimmer of light
In my life.
Even as Darkness knows me
My shadowed heart yearns for light.
For those shadows in my soul
Are cast by light
In me.
Somewhere.
But I can not seem to find it.
I don't know where
My light is.
My angel.
Light.

He then whispered in her ear, "I found my angel."

She blushed, but then kissed him. "Don't you forget it."