Disclaimer – Draco and Hermione don't belong to me -.- J. has that privilege (who wouldn't like to own Draco? drools)

A/N – Yes. This is like my first fanfiction. I've finally mastered all my courage and decided to publish this.

I wasn't sure in which genre I would be posting this, seeing it is not actually a "story", but somewhat, a point of view of a possible relationship between them. It was inspired on a dream I had one night (not about Draco, by the way) and I wrote it down. Bear with some change in the characters, because this wasn't initially planned as a DM/HG story.

Since English is not my mother-language, please notify me of any grammar mistakes or something else. I would really appreciate that ;) Hope you enjoy! (don't kill me if you don't O.o)

(Rated T due to some language… well one word actually -.-)

In such short time, the taste for which she craved rapidly turned into an obsession. An obsession in search for perfection – in search for liberty – so that she could finally reach that juice. She again, wanted to prove that she could do it. She wanted to prove she could be strong and capable, of fighting and deserving that taste. That smell. The bitter reality wouldn't satisfy her anymore and she would find refuge, most of the time, in the dream. But this time; this time… it would be different.

He started to notice, when the curves, long ago, wide and big, became sculptured and well defined. The smile became a target for compliment and those big, brown eyes were now deadly. The wild, messy hair was now valuable to her appearance, also changed by a slight athletic feature. The hands, soft, each time they picked up a pen or the childish giggle that filled the room with color, made him notice the big change in her; how much she had grown. And now, he wanted her; more than ever. Yes, now, she was perfect. Deep down, he didn't understand that perfection. Aside from the many attributes, she was a Mudblood – abnormal, filthy, rotten – and sometimes, very annoying. But he wanted her.

She started to notice a slight difference, when the exchanged glances, long ago mocking and empty, started to become longer and evaluative. The typical, cruel small talk still maintain its regular basis, but now had reached other proportions. The eyes, provoked her, along with the tentative words, whispered in the ear. The hands ventured further, like in those days, when two "children" were trying to understand that feeling that united them. Yes, she did notice the "slight" difference in his behavior and now, she wasn't going to waste it.

The encounters were kept in secrecy. They removed themselves from life, for a few instants and gave in, to the sensations and comfort; unconcerned. They came together and forgot, for a brief second, who they were. Sometimes they were quick encounters – on an abandoned hallway or in an empty classroom. Sometimes, they even met outside the castle – rarely, for it was risky. Apart from that, life proceeded as normal. The cruel and heartless words continued. Others didn't even suspect something out of the ordinary. Everything was going normal… until;

A certain suspicion was raised when the encounters were "slightly" more frequent and prolonged. As time went by, little by little, she began to notice, that she no longer, only longed for the smell and touch… but also for the voice, eyes and those rhetorical conversations sometimes shared. She no longer longed for the refuge; she longed for the company. However, that was prohibited. The "bargain" that was made, wasn't that. The fear was starting to become evident, when she was afraid that he wouldn't feel the same. If that was the case… she was dead. They were free to do whatever they wished, but she didn't want anything else – had not wanted for a long time, now.

She made a mistake when she approached him with that idea. "An alternative" she had called it. It scared him. But she was surprised. He was going through the same; and it was wrong. They're involvement was now: too much to handle. That was coasting them the liberty they've always wanted to preserve. It confused them both. It was problematic. All they could do was stop. Stop and stop, before the mistake transformed into chaos. They weren't a couple. They weren't lovers and they certainly didn't have a friend profile. They were just two bodies searching for freedom.

He tried to take her out of his system with one of the pure, rich, Slytherin whores. She was well toned, perfectly shaped and so beautiful. She was also famous for her incredible "abilities", when you slept in the same bed as her. She was just perfect for his "test". His mind, always so unconcerned, started to fill up with thoughts and confusions, from the moment the poor girl didn't achieve his expectations. Why not? She was… No. She wasn't. She didn't have the same smell he had longed for. Her touch was too gentle; not the confidant and brusque, to which he was accustomed to. And when he looked into her eyes, he didn't see the deadly brown. It was deception but at the same time a revelation.

She discovered about his little "test" and instead of standing indifferent, she was hurt. Really hurt. It wasn't for this that she had gotten involved. She didn't want feelings or complications. She wanted freedom. She wanted to drown herself in him; drown her sorrows in a simple caress or kiss. She wanted to loose her fears. She wanted to be capable of leaving him if she, somehow got tired; he had warned her sometimes that, he would do it to her, without hesitation. She wanted to look him in the eye and understand, that he wasn't a lover, but a salvation. She didn't want to shed tears for something that was well stipulated since the beginning. They were now falling through the hole they've always tried to escape from. They were falling and falling… and couldn't stop. He didn't want to leave her anymore.

She remembered when, during many of their encounters, he would just grab her – hard, possessive, brutal – and hold her to him, whispering softly "You're mine". She realized now she truly was his. If she ever belonged to someone, she wanted to belong to that liberty he offered; to those secret encounters and mocking eyes. She now noticed, that those bitter words that fell from his mouth, were the same ones that took her to become what she was today. She now noticed that, without them, she wasn't just as strong. She needed him.

He still remembered the tears she had shed for him, when they were still some dumb "children". He now noticed how they touched him, deep down. Never, had someone showed such patience and willingness to be there… for him. If he ever belonged to someone, he wanted to belong to the comfort she offered; to those secret encounters and understanding eyes. He now noticed that those comprehensive and respectful words that fell from her mouth, were the same ones that took him to become what he was today. He now noticed that, without her, he wasn't just as strong. He needed her.

They didn't want – need – anything more. It wasn't love. It wasn't friendship. It wasn't convenience. It was need. The same need that took the better of themselves and suddenly, they were, again; stuck. Stuck to what could be seen as a setback or chaos. The refuge was gone.

They were stuck to adream.