Find A Way - A Harry Potter One Shot

'I have got to find a way!' Harry thought, frustrated. 'There has to be a way!'

Sarah looked at Harry, worry in her tired eyes. She bit her nails, as she always did when nervous. It was beginning to look like a lost cause. They had been in the library for hours now, but still nothing.

They hadn't found a way. No way to breathe underwater... No way to win the task... No way to get out of it... No way to survive this...

Harry's sigh turned into a groan as he threw another disappointing book upon the 'useless' pile.

Darkness had fallen over the castle, yet still they worked. Candlelight flickered, making words jump around the page, but they couldn't quit. The eerie silence that befell them made it easier to concentrate, except when a door creaked, or a tree rapped at the window. Sarah felt herself jump every time it happened. She felt the urge to move closer to Harry. To feel his warmth and protection, but it was he who needed protecting. He who would risk his life in the lake. He whom she could not live without...

The second task of the Triwizard Tournament was mere hours away as Sarah stood from her hard chair and made her way closer to Harry. She couldn't stand seeing him so tired and frustrated, but knew it was this or... she couldn't bring herself to think it. She loved him too much.

Harry tore open another book and wrenched at each page to discover the next disappointment. His anger was so apparent that Sarah actually feared approaching him, but as her soft voice spoke he closed the book with a sigh.

"Harry?"

He looked at her and couldn't stop the smile forming on his lips. His hand fell from rubbing his forehead and his eyes actually wanted to stay open again.

"I think you need a rest."

"I can't," he said, a little more forcefully than he expected. He quickly apologised and turned back to the books.

"It's alright Harry... You have to go. I'll keep searching, you just go for a walk or something."

Her gentle hands touched his shoulders as he sat, slumped over the library table. She rubbed his back comfortingly and her contact seemed to give Harry renewed strength and will to carry on.

He twisted around once more and looked into her eyes, feeling her hand remain on his shoulder as he turned in his seat, "We both need a rest from this."

"But you just said..."

"I know, but I can't leave knowing that you're still working."

She smiled at him and felt his hand cover hers, "Please?"

She nodded, unable to deny a request to those emerald eyes. He nodded and stood. Harry gently took her hand from his shoulder and paused. She waited for him, so they just stared at each other for a moment.

She felt self-conscious and giggled nervously, bringing Harry from his admiring daydream. He was now searching for something else. He wanted to find a way to tell her... A way to let her know how he felt... How he owed her so much... How he loved her too...

He slid his chair under the desk and held out his hand. He wanted her to take it, so he could feel her soft skin again. Her touch and hers alone set his heart racing and his mind at ease. That's exactly what he needed; now and for always.

She placed a delicate hand in his and squeezed gently. His fingers wrapped around hers and they walked to the library door. Both of them felt something special - something extraordinary, but neither could say yet.

Harry felt so right being with her. He couldn't concentrate on finding a solution for the task - not while he had something else to find. He needed to find that way to tell her. It was plaguing his mind. She was all he thought about. If only she could feel the same, then he would be able to relax. To enjoy her company at ease and concentrate on his survival, not her reaction...

"Sarah?"

"Yeah, Harry?"

He took a deep breath and said, "I can't thank you enough, you know."

"What's a lifetime in the library?" she joked. He laughed.

But then, time slowed down for both of them. Harry gradually moved towards her. Both his hands held securely onto hers, as his eyes scanned over her face, landing on her lips. She was frozen, waiting, hoping.

His features were blank with concentration and nervousness, as he leaned ever closer. He was so close that both had their eyes closed when he paused and whispered, "Can I?"

Sarah didn't answer with words, but squeezed his hands and closed the gap. Her lips were soft and gentle on his. He felt warm and tender to her, as he pressed harder and took his hands away, only to place them around her waist.

The short moment of the kiss lasted for the pair. She had time to rest her hands on his shoulders and he could grin against her lips before they parted.

They were both blushing, but Harry tried his best to regain himself, succeeding only so far as to say, "Will-you-be-my-girlfriend?" all in one breath.

Sarah was stunned; the kiss hadn't yet sunk into her mind, nonetheless she was expected to answer that? She smiled, already knowing the answer, but her throat was dry. She had thought about it, dreamt about it, hoped for it. She knew her answer. She nodded happily.

Harry let out a deep breath and chuckled a little, his nerves calming as he let out the anxiety. He licked his lips and caressed her cheek carefully, before murmuring, "Thank you..." then crashing his lips to hers with real, confident love.

She was his... Finally... He had found a way...

Unworthy - A Sherlock Holmes x Reader One Shot

Tears streamed down my face as I sat with Mr Sherlock Holmes. The privilege I had of being his friend had overwhelmed me for a long while now, but today it had become too much. It wasn't like me to cry about these things, but when you have to keep your cool around death and brutality as much as I did with Sherlock, sometimes the simplest things could break you in a quiet moment.

This is what happened here - Sherlock and John hadn't had a case in a while, and I had the day off too.

On John's insistence, we had gone to a bar, and on Sherlock's insistence, we'd joined in the pub quiz. As a team, I knew no-one could beat us, we were invincible, with Sherlock's knowledge of all things academic, John's knowledge of the body, politics and some good general knowledge, and my random subjects of interest that ranged from literature to time travel to the supernatural...

As the quiz went on, John and I were slowly shoved out of Sherlock's team, as he rampaged through the answers. We didn't really care, and we would have been stupid to expect anything else, but in the quiet moments between questions, my mind started to wander as I watched my outstanding friend's brain work.

In my compromised state of tiredness and other things, I started to wonder what would happen if he ever needed me to be that clever... What would happen if he was relying on me for something, and I simply wasn't intelligent enough to help him?

I didn't handle this train of thought well, as every scenario I invented ended in Sherlock's death. I could feel tears starting to form, so I excused myself and headed outside, to the small park near the pub where I could sit on a bench and cry to myself.

After what felt like a panic-filled hour (but turned out to only be several minutes), John and Sherlock appeared in front of me, and immediately, John's arm was around me. "What's wrong?!"

"Nothing," I sniffed. "Did we win?"

"Of course," Sherlock seemed smug, but a little concerned.

I didn't expect him to be worried about me, but I couldn't let that effect me now, I was too dangerous to be around him.

"Come on, what's wrong?" John repeated, tightening his grip on my shoulders to comfort me.

"I'm okay," I glanced over to Sherlock.

John copied me, and said quickly, "Go away."

Sherlock looked stunned, "What? Why?"

"Sherlock, just please go away for two minutes."

Sherlock shrugged and did as he was told, wandering off across the park.

"Talk to me," John said once Sherlock was out of earshot.

I couldn't hold it any longer, so I spilt all my feelings out to John, and watched as his expression turned from one of confusion, to understanding, then to resolute. "Sherlock, get back here!" he shouted.

As the great detective listened like a lost puppy, I added one last thing to John, "I just don't want to lose him, y'know... I love him too much."

John nodded, and I was surprised I didn't get a more shocked reaction. Had I really been that bad at hiding it?

"Sherlock," John announced as he approached, "will you please tell our silly friend here that she's not going to get you killed?"

Sherlock looked rightfully perplexed until John began to explain.

"John, go away," Sherlock instructed, and he obeyed, but not before shooting me a look that asked 'can you handle this?' to which I nodded.

He walked away, and Sherlock watched to make sure John wasn't looking before he reached out to capture my hands in his. His crystal eyes shone mysteriously as he regarded me. He licked his lips slowly, thinking. "You're right."

My breath caught, making me feel ill. I knew it.

"You're not as intelligent as me when it comes to the things I do. That's why I do them, not you. And yes, a wrong decision could be fatal, but that's true of anyone I work with, including myself."

"You're a lot less likely to get anyone killed, Sherlock," I muttered.

"That's not true now, is it?" he asked, "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be in any danger at all. None of us would." His thumb stroked the skin on my hand.

"I don't want to be responsible for your death Sherlock, you mean too much to me."

Sherlock sighed, "In that case, I'm going to have to be selfish, and insist that you stay."

I gave him a questioning look.

"If you don't want to be around me, or have my life in your hands because I mean too much to you-"

"I never said I didn't want to be around you..."

"But that's what would have to happen. I have to insist that you stay with me anyway, because you mean too much to me for me to let you go."

My heart could have exploded, my breath was a lump in my throat.

"I would rather risk death and have you around, than lose you today."

"S-Sherlock... I... I..." I had no words.

"Will you stay?"

I nodded and pulled him into a much-needed hug. "As long as you want me."

"You should never feel unworthy around me," he whispered, "you're here for a reason, and I need you." With that, he kissed the top of my head and I felt more at home, and at ease, in his arms than I had ever felt before. I knew Sherlock loved me now, because otherwise he would have let me go.

Protection - Arthur Pendragon x Reader One Shot

"Merlin, I swear, if one hair on her head is harmed, I'll kill every last one of these men."

"I didn't know you felt so-"

"I don't feel anything," Arthur fought the blush rising to his cheeks.

Merlin smirked, "Then stop standing about."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean she's still in Camelot, Arthur. And Morgana has control. If she realises how much you care about-"

"I don't care about her."

"Whatever. If Morgana realises how important she is, she could be dead by the morning."

"Or imprisoned, right? There's still hope?"

"There's always hope, but we have to move," Merlin insisted.

"Since when were you so eager to go into battle?" Arthur teased Merlin, but only to bite his lip at the reply.

"Since you became too in loooove to look after yourself!"

Arthur quickly signalled for his knights to advance. They were going to storm the tunnels of Camelot to rescue her.

Having had no idea about this, she had already hidden from Morgana and started searching the tunnels for an escape route.

Two days must have passed in those cold, dark tunnels, before she was suddenly woken by the flashing of a flaming torch near her cold and tired face, and Gwaine screaming for Arthur.

The instant she recognised Gwaine, she jumped up and wrapped her arms tightly around him. Being Gwaine, he immediately returned the hug, whispering, "Hello" into her ear.

"Hello," she replied, breathless. "What are you doing here?!"

"Coming to get you, m'lady," he replied, pushing some hair behind her ear.

Before she could reply, Arthur crashed into view, then stopped suddenly, staring at the two of them, still hugging.

"Found her."

"What did I say earlier, Gwaine?" Arthur almost ignored her. "If anyone lays one finger on her, I'm going to kill them... Don't make me kill you."

Gwaine pushed her away instantly, and when instructed, quickly scarpered from the corridor altogether.

No words were spoken as Arthur ran over to her, picked her up in a bone crushing hug and then set her down. "I'm never letting you out of my sight again," he whispered, gently pressing his lips to hers, before adding pressure and passion to the kiss that would change this young woman's life...

Perfect - A Colin Morgan x Reader One Shot

The thought of his lips on mine made me tingle. I didn't care that he wasn't really Merlin, there was something truly magical about him. As his eyes glinted in the mock-candlelight and the cast and crew seemed to disappear, I wondered if he could tell I wasn't acting? I could never be as good an actor as this. I could never have portrayed this feeling before, as this was the first time I'd ever known it so strongly. The temptation to pull him in and kill his lines with a kiss was almost overwhelming, as heat rose in my body, and the moment was coming. Crouched down in a tunnel, hidden in our little world under Camelot, Colin Morgan looked at me through Merlin's eyes and said the last line before the big moment, “It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks,” he brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear, “I think you're perfect.”

And there I was, unable to speak, as he leaned in and touched his lips carefully to mine. I was supposed to act surprised and delighted, but there was no need for me to think about anything as the man I'd fallen for pressed himself against me. I smiled into his lips and placed my hand gently on his chest. My eyes closed briefly, my heart racing, and I could feel his heartbeat too. I couldn't count the beats, though, as my thoughts were in disarray. I had no idea how he was feeling about this, if anything at all, but I knew that this would be a memory I would treasure forever. Part of me contemplated messing the scene up, so I could do it again, but all too soon, I heard the words “Cut. Perfect.” and I knew I'd ruined my chance.

The stark difference in Colin's accent shocked me out of my daze, as he placed out a hand to help me up, saying, “Great scene!”

“Thanks,” I muttered, taking his hand and smiling. I no longer knew how to deal with my feelings. It was over – the one chance I'd ever get to kiss him, and it was over. I wanted to go home.

“Are you okay?” Colin looked at me with concern.

I didn't speak for a moment, as I searched his face. “Yeah,” I smiled finally.

“I thought you'd be a better liar, considering your acting skills...” I looked into his eyes, and although coming from anyone else that may have sounded sharp, from Colin, it was a compliment hidden in concern.

“I'm fine,” I smiled more softly, and he seemed to be sceptical but calmer.

“You know you can talk to me,” he assured.

I nodded and gave him a genuine grin as he pulled me into a hug.

“That's better,” he laughed gently, rubbing my back, “now what's up?” I shook my head against his chest, and considering we were still surrounded by the other members of the cast and crew, he didn't press for an answer, “Talk to me later?”

“Yeah,” I smiled gratefully, and he ruffled my hair playfully before wandering away to his next scene.

*

“Come in,” I heard his Irish lilt through the trailer door.

“Hey,” I muttered, with my heart already pounding, as I let myself in.

“You okay?” he stood immediately, and rushed to pull me into another hug.

“Yeah,” I managed to breath the words out as he near-crushed me.

“So talk,” he then led me to sit down and took a seat opposite me. After several moments of me fiddling with my hands and staring determinedly at the carpet, he added, “Was I that bad?!”

“What do you mean?” all my concerns were replaced with confusion.

“Our kiss. Was it really that bad? ...You were fine before that.”

“It was good!” I assured hastily, “Perfect, in fact...”

“Then what's wrong?”

“It's precisely that,” I mumbled, finding the courage somewhere to finally go through with this.

“What do you mean?”

I laughed nervously, “That kiss, Colin. That whole scene was like a fairytale.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, not understanding what I meant. “It wasn't very realistic, was it?”

My heart sank, though I couldn't fully explain why. “That's not what I meant.”

“What's wrong?!”

Maybe he could hear the sadness in my voice. I took several deep breaths, then felt his hand cover one of mine. I dared to look up into his eyes, and immediately regretted it, as the blue of his pupils glittered with caring.

“There's nothing wrong, Colin,” I smiled weakly. “That scene was one of the best moments of my life.”

He was confused now, and I couldn't blame him, “So what's the matter?”

“You.” A moment's silence fell on us both as I plucked up the courage to continue, “You've made today special. You make everything special, and I wish we had a kissing scene every day...” Colin's eyes bulged out of his head as he began to understand what I was trying to say. I looked away, and continued talking, “I know it wasn't real, but it was something I've thought about for a long time, and now that it's over, I guess I feel... well... I don't know what I feel, so that's what's wrong.”

Another silent pause clouded over us, but I could have sworn I heard my heart throbbing, trying to escape my chest. Slowly becoming aware of each millimetre of my own body, I realised that Colin's hand hadn't left mine. A small smile crept onto my lips as I stared down at his thumb moving gently over my skin. Goosebumps trailed along my hand and up my arm. My eyes followed the line of his arm, up to his shoulder, over his neck, to his slightly flushed cheek, and after a short glance at his full lips, up to his eyes. The corners of his mouth turned up somewhat, as his eyes caught mine. My heart skipped a beat.

“Are you telling me,” he asked slowly, “that you want to have to kiss me more often?” His cheeks were darkening as he spoke, as I'm sure, were mine.

“I don't want to 'have to',” I giggled anxiously.

“But you want to?”

I paused, unable to read where this was going, “Yeah...”

“You want to kiss me?”

“Yeah,” I almost choked on the word because I was so on edge.

“You want me to kiss you?”

I was beginning to lose my cool now, shakily I answered, “More than anything.”

This short, confident answer seemed to stir something in Colin, as he gripped my other hand and leaned in towards me, “Look me in the eye.”

I glanced, then looked away. He tugged at my hands, and I dared to look properly. His gaze burrowed into me and I couldn't help but smile. “What?” I asked, scared.

“Tell me again, please, just look at me this time.”

“I want to...” I hesitated again, but I had a great hope in my chest that allowed me to carry on, “I want to kiss you, Mr Morgan. For real.”

His head bobbed to the side as his signature grin graced his face. “Really?”

“How many times do I have to say it?!” I half-laughed, half-scolded.

His mischievous eyes twinkled as he contemplated this question.

“Answer me!” my heart raced, as I felt every emotion from fear to love in each moment that passed.

“Okay,” was his only word, before he pulled me into his lap and crushed his lips to mine in a kiss more urgent than anything I'd ever known. My hands explored him as we kissed, finding the curve of his neck and making him shiver, before embedding themselves in his hair, pulling slightly, as punishment for teasing me. He seemed to enjoy it, as his hands ran up my back and pulled me into him.

I moaned as we pulled apart, and he chuckled, “How was that?”

“Perfect,” I pressed my forehead to his, my eyes closed.

“I've wanted to do that for the longest time.”

I pulled back to look at him, “Seriously?!”

He looked sheepish as he nodded.

“So how was it for you?” I smirked, happier than I'd ever been.

“Perfect,” he replied, kissing me again. And again. And again.

Proper Gent - A Taron Egerton x Reader One Shot

"You have been trained in the ways of gentlemen," I spoke in my fanciest voice.

"Doesn't mean I am one," Taron laughed, as I helped him with his tie.

"That okay?" I folded his collar down and ran my hands down his muscular chest, pretending to straighten out his shirt.

He looked in the mirror and adjusted it to be a little tighter, "Perfect. Thank you."

I grabbed his jacket from his bed, and held it out behind him. Spotting this in the mirror, he put his arms back and into the sleeves.

Once his jacket was on, I stood on my tiptoes and slipped my hands from the lapels down onto his chest, so my arms draped around his shoulders from behind. I looked into the mirror at his reflection and smiled, "You look stunning."

He gently placed his hand over mine, "Thank you."

We stood there for a moment, both looking upon our reflection, and I couldn't help but think how good we were together. Suddenly Taron kissed my hand and spun me around his body, so we were facing each other.

"Can I have this dance, m'lady?"

"Most certainly," our posh accents were back. We swayed slowly, holding each other's gaze. "There's no music," I whispered.

He began to quietly hum a tune I recognised but could not place. We gracefully moved for a little while longer, knowing we had plenty of time before we had to leave.

"Gentlemanly enough for you?" he breathed.

I nodded, placing my head on his chest. I could feel the vibration of his continued humming. His arms slipped tightly around my back, pulling me against his body.

"You know I'm not a proper gent, right?" he laughed suddenly.

I laughed too, "Of course. I've known you long enough."

"Do you mind?"

"That you're a bit rough around the edges? No! In fact, that's what I love about you."

"Really? You seem to like this side of me an awful lot."

I pulled away slightly to look into his eyes, "That's because it's a side of you. I love every side of you."

"So you won't mind if I don't act like a gent for a minute?"

"Just be yourself, Taron."

He took a deep breath and nodded. All of a sudden, I found myself backed up against a wall, a passionate yet caring kiss planted firmly on my lips. My hands found their way into his hair, and I felt him sigh happily as he pushed his body against mine. All too soon, the kiss was over, and he took a step back. His hands left me, and he run one through his hair.

"Sorry."

"What for?" I smirked, letting him know that I was more than happy that he'd done it.

"I had to, just once. Now, if you'll allow me, I'd like to kiss you like the gentleman I've been taught to be."

"So kiss me," I smiled, feeling a gentle hand on my cheek, before his soft, subtle lips on mine, more cautious than before. He was mine now... my proper gent.

Those Damn Eyes - A Draco Malfoy x Reader One Shot

"Watch it, filthy half-blood!" Malfoy snarled.

"Back off Malfoy," she retaliated.

"Ooh, fighting back are we?" he hissed.

She blushed. Normally she was shy and quiet, but it was his fault they had collided. The Transfiguration Courtyard was hardly a cramped space, but he seemed intent on barging into people. His goons chuckled; their fat faces reminding her of two witless trolls. She started to walk away, muttering a forced 'sorry' under her breath, making sure to shove him out of the way with her shoulder.

Merely two steps away from them; she felt a strong hand clasp her upper arm. Spinning around to glare at Malfoy, her angry stare was momentarily softened as her eyes locked onto his cold grey ones. If ever this idiot could have a redeeming feature, it would be his deep, almost silver eyes...

She pulled herself out of them and quickly resumed her glower when he started to speak. Crabbe and Goyle had fallen silent, and some first years scurried away, while others sneakily watched them.

She grasped her wand; still in her cloak but ready to be drawn. Time had slowed down, but her heart speeding up as they stared at each other.

In one swift movement, he grabbed his wand, aimed it at her, and yelled a curse she didn't know. She reacted instinctively and disarmed him with alarming speed and precision.

He flew back in the air and crashed against the far wall. His wand soared through the air in another direction, while Crabbe and Goyle stared with gormless expressions. Her first reaction was, regrettably, one of satisfied victory. But as she watched his limp frame slump in a heap on the floor, her heart started to feel heavy. With guilty pain, she was frozen.

Time moved unevenly, she saw him breathe every laboured lungful of air, yet didn't register Madam Pomfrey's busied actions until he was being taken away.

She was rooted to the ground until he was no longer in sight, at which point, her legs started pumping and she ran all the way to the seventh floor, where she knew she would find solitude.

She found herself crying at the thought of hurting someone, of hurting Draco.

She found herself closing her eyes and seeing the image of his sunken body.

She was calling his name in her head... Draco... Draco... Not Malfoy, as she would normally have addressed him, but Draco.

Images of his piercing eyes flashed before her in the darkness, while the feeling that she should have run to him, held him, helped him, coursed through her body like guilt-ridden-adrenalin.

She had stopped in a lonely alcove, unaware of her surroundings, other than the fact that she was alone.

She wiped her tear-stained cheeks, then dabbed her puffy eyes with the sleeve of her robes. She blinked miserably until her scenery made her vision focus instantly.

The light from the nearby window made the silver reflect from the green and black of a Slytherin banner like never before. The 'S' shaped snake seemed to slither slightly as the material bobbed in the corridor's breeze.

Her breath caught in her throat, as the eyes of the snake seemed to follow her, ridicule her... she didn't dare take her gaze from the banner as she backed slowly out of the corridor. Turning the corner, little by little she sped up, in the direction of the hospital wing...

Finally, she walked gingerly into the nearly empty hospital wing, but he was nowhere to be seen. She knocked gently on the office door and was asked to enter.

As the door creaked open, she braced herself to see him there, but no.

"Um, could you tell me where Draco Malfoy is please?"

Madam Pomfrey looked at her suspiciously, eyeing her Ravenclaw robes and her shaking hands.

She asked again, "Please?" and the crack in her voice made Madam Pomfrey's harsh features soften and she nodded.

Draco was hidden behind a curtain at the back of the room, unconscious.

She looked worriedly at Madam Pomfrey and she simply sighed, "Whoever did this doesn't know their own strength... He'll be fine. Fully recovered in two days, maximum, but whoever did it will have to be severely punished."

Guilt very apparent, the Ravenclaw just looked at the floor. "I... I, um," she looked longingly at the sleeping Slytherin, then into the matron's steely eyes. "It was me," she blurted.

Madam Pomfrey nodded, "I know, dear. You can stay with him for a while, if you wish."

Stunned, she took a seat by Draco's side and just watched his face for a moment. She couldn't help herself — she found that her fingers wanted to trace gentle lines across the soft skin of his arm. Seeing his eyes flicker under their lids, and his lips, slightly apart and subtle. It made her see him differently. She had known he was dissimilar to his cronies, from the moment she met him... it had been something in his eyes. Those damn eyes.

Lying there, vulnerable, and it was all at her hand, her doing.

She entwined her fingers in his and wiped a strand of white-blonde hair from his face. She was incomprehensibly sorry and undeniably regretful that this, now vulnerable and beautiful person, had been the victim of such an outburst.

Tears stung her eyes once more, but were quickly stemmed when Draco moved. Those eyes wavered for a moment before landing, with confusion, on her. She tried to smile, but there was hate in his expression.

For some reason, she found her heart to be breaking. He had always given her looks of hate, but this... this was shattering. She took her hand from his and only then did he seem to notice that they had been together.

He tried to sit up, but the best he could do was prop himself up on his elbows, taking in his surroundings. Her worried eyes scanned his face as she stood to leave.

"What are you doing here?" his cold voice was barely audible.

"I wanted to know that you were alright, Malfoy." She returned his anger naturally.

He looked her over. Her contempt for him raged, but it was pathetic, as greater feelings had been unwillingly discovered.

His voice rasped the insult, "Stay away from me, half-blood."

She glared at him before turning to leave. "Sorry if I hurt you Malfoy," sarcasm falling painfully from her lips.

"You will be," he threatened.

"Oh?" she turned and advanced on him, though he seemed so exposed, lying there.

"That's right, you and your little Ravenclaw friends are in for it now. My father will hear about this."

Their voices were slowly growing in volume. She laughed icily.

They were barely inches apart now, but their noise had bothered Madam Pomfrey, who bustled over and told them pointedly to, "Be quiet, now!"

They nodded, giving her a hopefully 'innocent' look, at which she scoffed and bustled away again.  

The Ravenclaw was about to walk away from the scene when she felt that demanding grip again, this time less tightly, and upon her wrist. She turned, with disrespect etched in her features, to see a soft, almost warm Draco Malfoy looking back at her.

All dislike faded and she turned fully to face him. His fingers gently traced her wrist before his hand slid down it, entwining his fingers with hers. She looked into those grey eyes to see something new where once lived icy hate.

She looked down at their hands and yes, they felt right together. But this was wrong. This was weird. She couldn't fathom a response.

She felt his other hand lift her chin to face him once more. He looked so intently into her eyes that she was sure her heart was melting, but at the same time, her mind kept warning her of the dangers of him...

He sat up, taking all his strength to do so. His pain apparent, she helped him. He gestured for her to sit next to him and she was powerless to resist.

He sighed. She watched him think for a second, and then he said, "I'm sorry."

There was a pause in which she considered the apology, then answered, "I should be the one saying that."

He looked at her, slightly confused, but when she put her hand back in his, he knew.

His lips formed words, but no sound came out, his gaze firmly embedded in the bottom corner of the plain curtain.

Moments of silence passed, because she didn't know what to say or do. Their hands stayed together, and they were both contemplating it all...

Finally Draco's eyes darted back to hers and his words came spilling out, "I never hated you. I always wanted you to notice me, but being so different... I think I... I think I..."

She scanned his features and stroked his hand, having never seen Draco nervous, or shy before. He smiled weakly and took a deep breath.

"I want us to be friends."

She smiled, all nervousness of this being a rushed, strained and badly thought-out change of mind draining away at the word 'friends'. He seemed to sigh with relief too, but his grip on her hand tightened and he continued, "I want us to be more than friends... eventually."

He watched her reaction. What felt like an eternity passed, in which a million things raced through her mind, all the while, his eyes were on her.

She came to the conclusion that, while they had always argued, she'd never hated him. It had confused her before, but it was becoming clear now. His handsome face was staring at her, waiting for an answer she didn't have.

He looked down and more silence followed. Slowly his hand was falling away from hers and it made her realise.

She grasped it firmly, causing him to look up. She realised that she couldn't bear for it to slip away... She couldn't bear to lose it... And she couldn't bear to lose him...

"Draco?" she was wide-eyed and timid.

He moved a little and put his other hand on their entwined ones. "Draco... I... I..." she couldn't find the words. She smiled widely and giggled through her embarrassment.

He smiled too, but their faces became happily serious as they drew closer and closer. Leaning into one another, they both knew what was happening and they both wanted it.

He kissed her with soft, yet passionate longing. She returned it, hoping she could give him the shivers he was giving her. Hoping that the electricity that flowed through her mind, giving her a most incredible high, was mutually felt.  

Their lips danced so delicately that she couldn't believe this was the same boy she had cursed. The same boy who had taunted her for years... All was forgiven. All was forgotten. She could love him, but first, and importantly, she could like him. Him and those damn eyes.