So we began seeing each other.

It was a private thing, of course. Neither of us were exactly willing to let the entire school know what was going on. Logically, it was none of their business anyway. What they didn't know couldn't hurt them. Or at least that was our excuse. I believe it went more like what they didn't know couldn't hurt us.

And we didn't want to be hurt. It all worked out.

I thought it was working out, at least. Was I wrong? Because right now you're standing before me and whispering words that I don't want to hear. Like we're not meant to be. And we have to break up. These are not the sweet nothings I've come to expect. I wish you'd shut up and kiss me.

We both know, dear boy, that no matter what you say, you'll be back in a week. We tried before, remember? It seems like the harder we try to stay away from each other, the more often we end up snogging in some abandoned closet or taking secret walks around the castle gardens at three in the morning when no one watches. Just you and I. I like it that way.

So will you please stop trying to convince me you don't love me?

You're an excellent actor, dear, but honestly, a blind man could see through this performance. I pose the question; why are you doing this? It's more curiosity than anything. Of course I'm upset, but I'm mostly confident. I don't want to break up. I am pretty sure you don't want to either. Your answer is slow and babbly. Darling, babble never suited you. Quit while you're ahead.

Your eyes darken when I point out that you haven't made a legitimate case of this breakup. I didn't mean to make it a challenge, but you've always found ways to pick them out of a normal statement. Not one of your more endearing traits, but I love you anyway.

I love you?

Well, yes, I suppose I do. And that's just fine with me. I wonder if you love me, too. I guess it's okay if you don't. We've only been dating about a year, anyway. You've been sheltered from love you're entire life, and I can't expect you to learn how to feel it in that amount of time. We're only seventeen. Just think, if you don't do something stupid now, you have an entire lifetime to discover how!

Ouch, darling, that was a little under-handed. I realize you're trying to be noble and whatnot, saving me from the evils that are the Malfoy clan, but honestly, isn't calling me a 'mudblood' a tad over the top? I have to say, you really look like you want to break up with me. . .

Have I been naive? Are you really doing this? That can't be possible. I'm sorry, but I can't believe it. I query, don't you care about me? My eyes are filling with tears, slowly but surely. I understand that you've never really known how to be loving, but telling the girl you've been with for a year to get the hell away from you is not considered affectionate.

Your answer confirms everything.

"I never cared about you, Hermione."

You're lying, my dear boy. No! It is not denial; you just can't fool the woman you love. And I know you do, it doesn't matter that you've stomped off down the hallway. Do you want to know how I figured it out? Well, I'll tell you.

You said my first name!

Haha, Draco Malfoy. I caught you.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. In fact, I don't know many fourteen year old girls who do.

A/N: This just came to me. I'm not sure if anyone else likes it, but I sorta fell in love with the idea. ^^ Wasn't beta-ed, so that accounts for any mistakes. I didn't see the point, since it's just five hundred words.

Oh, and the next chapter of "Get Out" will be out in the next couple of days, if any of you read it, so be on the lookout!

Please r&r!