Disclaimer – I don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters. … I wish I did, though.

A/N – Yet another one-shot. Don't worry, I'll get back to NQAD eventually. Anyway, this one-shot is short and bittersweet. Like a shot of coffee. Or something. …right. Please let me know what you think. To do this, you must review. Yes, review. Do it for the children, at least.

no one will ever take your place

I am lost in you

no one will ever take your place

so in love with you

-"This Twilight Garden" The Cure

I hate you. Even now as you kiss me softly, kiss me insane and murmur sweetness in my ear. Whisper to me how beautiful I am. I hate you.

It should have been Ron. It should have been Harry. It should have been Neville, for God's sake. But there you were, and there I was.

And here we are.

Muggle-born and pureblood. Gryffindor and Slytherin. Light and Dark. Dumbledore and Voldemort. We were born to loathe each other. We were born to insult each other. Born to look down upon each other. Born to kill each other.

But here we are.

You're nibbling on that spot just below my ear, because you know it makes me crazy. And I'm running my hands through your silky platinum blonde hair. Hair that I have always envied, and when I told you so, you laughed and touched my rat's nest as if it was spun gold.

It's almost like a fairy-tale, or one of those horribly smutty romance novels. As prefects, we were forced to work with each other, and we learned things about each other that we didn't want to know. Your weakness for chocolate. My weakness for jellybeans. You love the piano. I love the violin. We both love to read the muggle classics. Though, when I found that out, you weren't too thrilled, and you swore me to secrecy. You said you'd "hex those beaver teeth back". I just smirked at you and let you borrow my battered copy of "1984". … I think it might have been the vicious, very political debate we had after you finished that particular novel that had me noticing the storms that were your eyes.

Eventually, we started going out of our way to bump into each other in the corridors, running into each other in the library, getting partnered up at the prefect meetings. Somehow, you became my friend. Somehow, you understood me. And I understood you.

And here we are.

You're telling me that you've lost your mind. The first time you told me this, I was hurt, and I got up to leave. But you grabbed me, and you looked me straight in the eye, because you knew I couldn't resist those storms...

"I'm not taking it back, I have lost my mind. …But I don't regret it. I'll never regret it."

Then you kissed me for the first time. And that night, I lost my mind, too.

At first, I was weary of you. I thought it might end any second. I thought you might stand up in the Great Hall and tell everyone about the mole just below my right breast that you loved to kiss. But you never did, instead you would make me squirm beneath your gaze during dinner. You would blow me kisses when no one was looking, and pass me silly, little notes when we passed each other in the corridors. Sometimes, the hiding, and the secrecy would really get to us, and we would fight. Then I'd say to myself, "That's that." And I would try to forget you, but you always came back to me. I pointed out to you how odd that was because of your pride and ego…

"While I was crawling back to you on my hands and knees, I considered that."

"And?"

"And I am shamed to admit that my feelings for you have come to rule over my infamous pride. My ancestors are probably turning in their graves."

"… It's the idea that your ancestors would turn in their graves that had you coming back, you spiteful ass."

"I'm a sucker for irony, what can I say?"

"Nothing, just kiss me."

And here we are.

You're bringing me places. Oh, how you're bringing me places. I'm seeing stars and I know you're seeing them too. My senses are full of you, the scent, the flavor, the magic. I'm falling, and you're falling with me. We rise and fall together. You say my name and it's a promise and a curse at the same time. And when the stars explode, and the world turns upside down, I still hate you.

I never wanted you, or this love. I always wanted you to be the school bully who just wanted attention. It would be easier that way. When it comes time to finally leave this place, I want to be relieved to see you go. Not heartbroken. I resent you for making me love you, because you knew, we both knew, that from the very beginning that this couldn't be, but you let me fall. And you stupidly fell yourself. I hate you for being reckless and careless with our emotions.

I hate myself.

But here we are.

We're lying side by side, and you're planting soft kisses on my brow, and caressing my hips. And I hate myself for feeling so right. I hate myself for saying…

"I love you, Draco."

I've never said it to you before, and your eyes widen, and I'm secretly praying that you reject me. That you tell me I'm a silly, delusional little girl. That you laugh in my face and say you were in it only for the sex.

But you don't. Instead, you stroke my cheek tenderly with your thumb, and you say…

"I love you, Hermione."

And I hear no lie in your voice. No sarcasm. No humor. Only sincerity. Then you lean in closer, and press your forehead against mine.

"You saved me," You say.

A few months ago, you were calling me a Mudblood, and I was calling you a spoiled prat. A few months ago, I wouldn't have cared less if you fell off a cliff, and you were hoping I would get struck down by lightening.

But here we are.

And I don't know where we're going, but I do know that we're going to crash. We're going to crash hard, and there's a chance that we may not survive.

I told you this once, I told you that it was doomed from the beginning.

"Live in the moment, Granger."

Someday, when I'm over the heartbreak and I'm married to Ron, or Harry, or Neville, I'll look back at this and laugh.

But now. Now I'm going to kiss you for what seems like the millionth time and marvel at how every time feels like the first time.

Now I'm going give this moment all I've got.