Meeting by Starlight II
By the Crystalline Temptress (C.T.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter; J.K. Rowling does. Don't sue me. I'm not making any money out of this venture.

Notes: Here's the promised second cookie, this time from Draco's point of view. (Wow, this part was actually more difficult to write than I thought it would be! Maybe it's because I have tonsillitis right now.)
This part makes small mentions of books 3 and 4 of the HP series.
As always, C&C is welcome.

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He had been watching her for some time now. It was difficult not to do so, with the moonlight weaving plaits of honey through her auburn hair, warming her creamy skin, glowing gold in the white flannel nightgowns she was fond of. She looked so soft, so vulnerable . . . so unlike the Hermione Granger he knew outside of the Astronomy Tower. In Draco Malfoy's seven years of study at Hogwarts, he always knew Granger to be the bossy, snooty know-it-all who had no right to be as such, being a Mudblood. All the teachers loved her (except for the Head of his house, Snape, for which Draco was grateful--the little chit couldn't have everything, after all; it just wouldn't be fair); she got top marks in everything; she was Head Girl. He didn't like it; she was just a Mudblood, while he was Draco Malfoy, a pureblood wizard of good descent, respectable, wealthy, and intelligent. He didn't find it right that a Muggleborn girl of no importance beat him in academics.

It was funny, then, that he had chosen to open up to her. To her, of all people. To the best friend of Harry Potter, his arch rival, another one of those insignificant people who managed to trample on his popularity.

It was even funnier that she listened to him. They had made it clear in the past that they were less than friends; she even had the nerve to slap him once. Of course, retaliated a year later by enlarging her already large two front teeth. It was his revenge (even if he wouldn't admit to himself that she looked rather nice after she had taken advantage of the reversing spell to make her teeth normal sized).

The funniest thing yet was that she promised to keep his secrets safe, vowing upon the little Sneakoscope she kept in her pocket.

Draco sighed. He disliked complications; they made life more unbearable than it already was. Yet he had brought it upon himself by heaping his feelings and fears upon Hermione, who, in turn, made it even more complicated with her sympathy. He believed that mutual exchanges of feelings were dangerous because they might lead to love, and love might, in turn, lead to hate. A hate born out of love, Draco thought, was the worst complication possible.

Draco let out a low groan and buried his face in his hands.

"Knut for your thoughts?" Hermione's voice pierced his dark thoughts. Draco looked up. She was smiling at him--the kind smile that always sent a bittersweet pang through his chest, the smile that promised safety, warmth, and comfort.

Hate bloomed in him, splintering in his insides, slicing through his unresisting flesh. Hate for his masquerade. Hate for Slytherin, hate for his family, hate for being Draco Malfoy. . . .

"Malfoy?"

"It's nothing," he snapped. Before he could control it, his mouth formed a second response. "Sod off."

Her eyes darkened. "Fine," Hermione said sharply. She stared at him for long moments, lips pursed. Then, without another word, she swept through the door, back into the confines of the castle.

"Oh, bugger," Draco muttered, feeling guilt blossom in place of the hate (which was unusual for him, as he almost always never felt guilty). He ran through the door as well, hoping to catch Hermione.

"Wait!" he called. He could see her cloaked form in the distance. "Granger, wait!" She didn't slacken her pace, nor did she turn to look.

Finally he caught up with her. He grasped her arm and yanked her to him with more strength than he intended to use; she nearly lost her balance, stumbling with a small yelp. He gripped her shoulders to steady her.

"Listen--" He whirled Hermione around.

"I should've known that you'd never be civil to me," she interrupted. To his surprise, she wasn't staring at him with the loathing or the hatred he was expecting to see. She merely looked tired. Tired and disappointed.

"I didn't mean to go off on you like that. I'm like that in Slytherin, and I'm used to it," Draco explained. As apologies went, it wasn't much, but it was all he could manage to say.

Her eyes were guarded in the faint, multi-colored light shining through the stained glass windows. "Alright," she said consideringly. She sighed.

"We're lucky that no one wanders these halls at night. . . . Otherwise, someone would've heard us for sure," she murmured. Draco saw her hand slip into her nightgown pocket, finding security in her little Sneakoscope. "I should add a presence detector to this. . . ." she muttered to herself. "Just so I'm aware if someone's coming, malicious intent or not."

"Sounds good," Draco agreed. "Now . . . shall we return to the Tower?"

Hermione nodded once, somewhat warily.

They returned to their thinking place and took their respective places before resuming conversation. "So . . . you wanted to know what I was thinking." Draco was the first to speak.

"Only if you'll let me know," Hermione replied. "You seemed rather defensive, so I'm assuming that it's a touchy subject."

"Somewhat." Draco shrugged. "I was just thinking that it's ironic."

"What is?"

"Us." He didn't mean to make it sound so suggestive.

He saw Hermione's eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, and he bit back a smirk. "What about us?" she demanded.

"We're arch rivals--"

"--not really arch rivals, but we're not the best of friends--"

"Yes. But I've somehow confided in you. It's odd. You're odd."

He risked a glance at her. He was surprised to see that she was grinning. "What?"

"If you ask me, you're the odd one. I never thought that you'd talk to me; I mean, you're always such a git. . . ."

"Because whatever I do--"

"Returns to your father, I know." Hermione sighed. "You know, my mum and dad . . . they don't understand the magical world at all. They can't relate when I go on and on about how fantastic magic is."

"Really? That's sad."

"I know. And when they hear about . . . Voldemort," she winced, "they panic and suggest that maybe I should return to the Muggle world. I love it there, really, but now that I've experienced what it's like to live in a magical community, I just can't leave. I'm too endeared to the sights, the people, and the magic."

"I suppose that no one's life is perfect," Draco murmured after a long pause.

Hermione let out an "uh-hmm" of agreement.

They lingered in silence for a long time, listening to the wind blow through the treetops and watching the stars spiral across the night sky in their eternal dance.

Finally, Hermione spoke. "Thanks, Malfoy."

Draco looked at her incredulously. "For what?"

She smiled. A new emotion sparked inside him. It frightened him.

"For listening to me whinging on about my life." With that, she turned around and retreated back into the castle.

"Wait!" he cried out, still gripped by the overwhelming new feeling.

Hermione looked back in surprise.

"Are you coming back here tomorrow?"

Slowly, Hermione shook her head. "I think I've done enough thinking. What about you?"

"Yeah, me too." Realization struck him like lightning. He knew that he came to the Astronomy Tower to think about how bloody awful his life was and what he could do about it. He didn't have an answer yet, nor did he have a solution, but he did have something new, something less sinister to think about.

"Nobody's life is perfect, right?" Draco said.

Hermione nodded. "Everybody hurts. You'll make it; we all do. And your secrets are safe with me." A new thought seemed to occur to her, and she smiled. "You know, since I've been thinking so much these past few days, I think I'm going to spend more time in the library."

Draco's lips curled into a smirk. "I've got to catch up on my studies as well. . . ."

Hermione's smile turned wry. "Very well. Don't let me stop you." She disappeared through the threshold.

Draco remained behind to watch the canopy of the evening sky one last time. This time, his mind lingered upon Hermione.

Chuckling to himself, he too went inside, thoughts bright with the promises of tomorrow.