"They say you're the one to go to."

"Is that what they say?"

He hadn't heard her enter through the door at the opposite end of the room, and if she hadn't spoken, he probably wouldn't even have known she was there. Her footsteps were light, dainty, and yet deliberate, as if she were a hunting cat prowling through the night, searching for prey. Or, since she had come to him, perhaps she was trying to find something else.

It was needless to say that Draco Malfoy had gotten a reputation for being a great many things. He was nasty, and cruel, cold-hearted, and he despised Gryffindors with a passion. Yet he was also well known for being quite handsome, and for helping girls who needed to be helped by making them feel beautiful and powerful. Even if it was only for one night.

He was a popular guy.

Yet Draco was far from stupid. Girls came to him looking for some sort of release, yet he never took their purity. If it was one thing his father had instilled in his head, it was to be respectful of a girl's honor. He had made it clear to his son that he did not care what he did at school, as long as he upheld the family name with dignity. It was a strict rule that he would not be able to take the light of a young woman until he was married. If a mistake happened anytime before that, disgrace would fall upon the name Malfoy.

Draco had questioned once, at a younger, more naive age, what he would do if he chose to never wed.

His father told him to die a virgin.

Despite the rule, Draco found it quite easy to comfort the poor lost souls who approached him. Most of the time he listened to them, gave them a reason to trust him. He knew exactly the right thing to say, and precisely what every girl needed to hear and feel to deal with everything inside of her. He did it as a service; oh yes, he had pleasure from most of the experiences, but he was also human, and as much as his father tried to deny it, he had a conscience. For all that he did during the day, he made up for it at night.

It was the damned comforting the innocent; Draco had always had a soft spot for irony.

Of course, some girls wouldn't see him for what he was trying to accomplish. Granger was forever swearing to him that one night she would find where he did this business, and then there would be hell to pay. But most of the female population enjoyed his services, and they were not about to tell the stuffy bookworm where he held these meetings.

It was not like she'd ever be able to find him, anyway.

The room was nothing special. It was a small, old office on the sixth floor, almost hidden from sight if you weren't looking directly at it. He'd happened upon it by chance while trying to escape Filch one night when he'd gone out for a snack. It was his fortune that he was forced off course to avoid the cranky caretaker. Filch had never bothered to clean it; it was dusty with years of misuse, and there was a fireplace at one end, the door opposite. However, Draco knew the importance of appearances. He'd cleaned it, and kept it tidy. Even at this moment there was a small fire crackling in the hearth.

When he turned, he was surprised to find whom it was.

There were many frequent visitors he had, yet she had never been one of them. He was not sure they'd even talked before, besides occasionally playing each other as Seekers during Quidditch season. Her voice was soft and he barely recognized it; it was her form itself that gave her away.

She'd closed the door behind her and was slowly moving forward, toward him and the fire at the opposite end. The flicker of the flames danced on her as she walked, and they bounced off the raven hair that hung in a loose ponytail on one side. Brown eyes were downcast; what would Cho Chang, the pride of Ravenclaw, possibly want to see him about?

He did not let his surprise move to his face, instead quirking an eyebrow and conjuring a chair where she could sit. "What troubles you?" He asked, watching as she slid gracefully into the seat, her eyes looking decidedly away from him.

"I've been watching someone."

He suppressed a confused look. "And?"

She shifted her gaze toward him, and it appeared as though it took great courage for her to do so. "Relationships are hard. Especially when your first serious one ended with your boyfriend being murdered."

"I'm sorry," he said automatically. In his sincerity he moved forward and touched the arm of her chair.

"No, you're not. Your father was there, anyway." Again, she looked away, this time out of disgust. "I don't even know what I'm doing here."

"I'm not my father," he replied, his voice not shaking. It was true, he would probably one day grow up to be exactly like him, but for now he was still Draco. "I hope you aren't too disappointed."

Still avoiding his eyes, she spoke again. "I'm over Cedric's death. I have been for a long time." There was an uncomfortable moment of silence where she had anticipated him to speak, which he hadn't. Shrugging, she moved on. "But I don't want to watch this new someone."

"Why not?" This was getting stranger and stranger; usually, the girl was distressed and merely needed to physically release all of which she'd emotionally repressed. But Cho had yet to make any move on him. It was odd, though very intriguing.

She turned and looked him directly in the eyes. Her brown orbs caught his own gray up in a storm of emotion. Everything she could possibly be thinking or feeling was in those amazing eyes for one moment. "Because I don't want to love you," she answered plainly, before standing up slightly, grabbing the front of his shirt, and forcefully bringing his lips to meet her own.

Behind the kiss he felt her anger at him, and at his father and Voldemort and the whole rest of the world. He felt her bitterness and her pain, and he felt her relief at finally being able to get all out of it out. And the kiss itself was astounding, passionate. Her lips lingered for a few moments before drifting away from his own slowly. She tilted her head toward the floor, appearing almost ashamed of her actions.

He took a step back, bringing a hand gingerly to his lips. He could still taste her.

She stood and made her way quickly to the door. Flinging it open, she was halfway through the doorway when she paused.

"I won't be coming back tomorrow."

Disclaimer: You know the routine. I don't own it, you don't sue me, and everyone goes home happy.

A/N: I like Draco/Cho. A lot. But there are so few of them that I decided to write own myself. It's a pity that it didn't turn out the way I'd hoped, but I suppose not everything can. Anywho', lemme know what you think, please. My goal is to get more than one review for this story, because this seems to be the trend with my last two. Haha.