Well hello there, dear readers. This is not my first fanfiction, but this is my first Harry Potter one. While I have read all the books, many times, with extreme dedication, it's so much different to have to write for them, while in character, than to read the books. So please review, and tell me what you think. Did I do good by the characters? Bad plot? Way off? Constructive criticism is appreciated, as well as praise, naturally XD. Well thank you for reading, and please review! Love you all!

Draco lifted an eyebrow. Granger was sitting across from him in the Potions dungeon, muttering to herself. Frizzy brown hair spilled over her shoulder, and her dry face was scrunched up, following her finger as it ran down the text of the Potion's textbook. It was the perfect opportunity for a joke. A snappy one liner, something about Granger being a Mudblood warthog, or how she'll die alone. The possibilities are truly endless.

He nudged Goyle next to him, and pointed to Granger. "Look at Granger, she's reading that book as if it contained advice to find a boyfriend. As if it could possibly help a Mudblood like her."

Goyle chortled, his fat body shook as he sniggered. Crabbe snorted, his voice catching in his throat. A few other Slytherins overheard what he said and laughed along with him them, trying to muffle their laugher as if they actually cared about Granger's feelings.

Hermione either didn't hear what Malfoy said, or didn't care, for she chopped up the liver of a dragon as finely as the book dictated, and used the back of her knife to slide it into the caldron beside her.

"Well," Draco said louder. "It could be worse. Granger may die alone, but at least some poor man doesn't have to suffer!" he exchanged high fives with Crabbe and Goyle, smiling for he found instigation to be a fine art, one that was his medium.

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry snapped, annoyance seeping into his voice along with anger.

"Focus, Potter, ten points from Gryffindor." Snape drawled, licking his thumb and flipping to the next page in his book.

Malfoy looked over at Potter, who had gripped his knife so hard his knuckles turned white, slamming it down on the dragon liver, as if it was Snape's face. Draco chuckled.

Draco decided that it was time to push the envelope some more; see how far he can get. "What puzzles me," he began, tapping his chin as if he was pensive in thought. "Is how anyone can tell the difference between a dragon and Granger. But I have finally separated the distinction. One is scaly, hideous, fire – breathing, and slow – witted, and the other is a dragon."

The Slytherins burst out in laughter, a mix of high – pitched squeals, snickers, shorts, and chortles. Snape himself smiled a bit, though it did not reach his eyes. The Gryffindors, however, were disgusted. Harry slammed his knife down harder on the cutting board, exhaling loudly as if his anger would go with it. Seamus put down his knife and glowered at Malfoy.

Ron leaned forward in his seat, resting an elbow on the table, point the knife at Malfoy's rat – like head. "I'm warning you Malfoy," he said, his voice was not much higher than a whisper, but it was low, hissing, and dangerous. The room was silent to listen to him. "Do not saying anything against her. Or you will regret it."

"Weasley." Snape drawled again, flipping another page in his book. "I cannot allow threats in my classroom. Fifty points from Gryffindor."

Ron turned red from anger. "Do you not see what Malfoy is doing to her? He's horrible! Punish him, you toad!"

"That's enough Weasley!" Snape said, a bit a twang still in his voice, but it was covered with anger. "Do not talk back to me! Detention, after classes today!"

Ron opened his mouth to protest, but apparently decided against it. He went back to his potion and pureed mushrooms with more force than anyone had seen him use before.

Hermione still said nothing.

At first, Draco decided that he had won today's battle, and went back to his potion. He didn't want to lose favor with Snape. Oh, who was he kidding? Snape could never lose his favor for Draco. They were on the same side, the winning side, now weren't they?

But still, Draco would need some serious thought to top his last comment, and the best way to disguise the fact that he had to think about his scathing, anti – Mudblood comments was looking like he was actually doing his schoolwork. Everyone still thought that Draco did not lie awake at night, thinking of Potter's, Granger's, and Weasley's weak points, and comments to slowly tear them down from the inside. But he did, and there's no way in hell he would let anyone else know about that. The embarrassment would never end – Potter and his company would make sure of that!

Okay, think Draco. How can you not have something? There is literally a bubbling caldron of jokes surrounding her. Her frizzy brown hair, her dull brown eyes, she is looking a little chubby, she'll die alone, she's a Mudblood, He – who – must – not – be – named will surely dispose of her the first second he sees her…think! Ugh! Why don't I have anything?

Okay, focus on one thing. That's the problem. There's too much to choose from. You're overwhelmed. That's all. Focus on her weight. That's a sensitive issue for most women. Okay, looking fat. She's fat because she eats too much. She eats too much because she's unhappy with her inferior life. Oh, how come I can't think of anything! Oh wait, oh wait, what else does she do? Read! She's a nerd, a bookworm, she reads too much. That's all she does.

"Hey Granger!" Malfoy said, tilting his chair back a bit. "Here's me thinking you were too much of a goody – goody to steal. But alas, I was wrong. You're clearly trying to smuggle a few textbooks underneath your shirt there. No one's stomach bulges out that much. Not at your age. A pitiful attempt, really."

The Slytherins laughed harder, putting down their tools and ingredients, dedicating all of their energy to reveling in the fact that, once again, Granger had been taken down by Draco. They rocked back and forth, touching each other's arms and repeating lines.

"Not naturally!"

Laughter.

"No one's stomach bulges out that much!"

Laughter.

"Smuggling textbooks!"

Laughter.

Hermione still said nothing, focusing on her potion, which was turning the proper shade of pine -tree green.

"And here's me thinking you couldn't be any more of a git, Malfoy. Guess I was wrong too!" Ron yelled, slamming a fist down on the table, sending ripples across the top of his purple - ish potion, and different ingredients off the top of the table and onto the dusty floor.

"Oh do calm down, Weasley." Draco said, his voice drawling and swaggering. "When you get agitated, you breathe more. Our air is contaminated enough as it is, we don't need any more wasted by blood – traitors such as yourself."

Ron turned red easily, but it usually stayed in his cheeks, and sometimes spread to his forehead. But Ron was furious, and by holding in the level of anger that he was, the red tint of his skin spread to the tips of his ears, and down his neck. Overall, he somewhat resembled a fire hydrant.

He didn't calm down much; the tint just disappeared from the very tips of his ears. But he said nothing else and went pack to squishing caterpillars with a large mallet. Draco smiled and chuckled to himself. The image was comedy itself; Weasley taking out his anger on the small bugs. Not to mention Weasley looked pretty amusing holding a mallet. With his left hand so close to the poor caterpillars, Draco crossed his fingers and hoped Weasley would accidently hit his own caterpillar – like fingers.

Draco smirked and went back to his potion. He was on top, as if he belonged anywhere else. He reached for a container of beetle powder and sprinkled it over his bright blue potion like sprinkles on a cupcake. Now today had been an especially excellent day. The Gryffindors were practically drowning in a pool of their own pride, while the Slytherins floated on by on some type of yacht.

But Draco wasn't satisfied with being on top. He couldn't just let it be. He stirred his potion, slower and more than the book called for. Then again, he didn't really have to follow the book. Snape would give him top marks no matter what he did. He was Draco Malfoy. While stirring, he had time to think. What could he say? He had to have something else to say, his last hurrah. Class would be ending in just a few moments, so there wasn't much time to think.

Now he had already picked on her weight, her looks, and made a few quiet jabs at her less – than – promising romantic future. Maybe that's where he could strike again. For a last jab, you couldn't pick on something little, you had to find their biggest fault, biggest insecurity, and drive it home.

But then again, Weasley had disrespected him as well, several times throughout the class. And while he had received detention, it was from Snape. Draco needed to show Weasley that he couldn't talk to him like that, not without consequences.

Think Draco, this is a once in a lifetime shot. Remember, she's going to die alone, no one will have to endure her.

"Well I suppose Weasley lucked out." Malfoy added as a last shot. "He's the only one stupid enough to marry someone like Granger."

Hermione finally added to the conversation, with a sharp intake of breath. She stood up from her chair, grabbed the potions book and rushed out of the classroom, small pearly tears falling from the corners of her eyes.

Everyone froze as they watched her abscond. As soon as she was gone, all the Gryffindor turned to look at Draco, whispering comments amongst themselves. I can't believe he made her cry! Poor Hermione! I do believe Draco just out – douched himself.

The Slytherins whispered approving comments to Draco. Good job, one less Mudblood stinking up the place. Who grabs a BOOK when they run out of the room? Nice one! Surprised Weasley didn't start sobbing first, though.

Normally Draco would be reveling in the approving comments of his fellow Slytherins, but not this time. He watched in silence as Hermione ran out of the room, crying, with a swish of auburn hair the last vision of her, her knapsack the only evidence that she was just there.

Draco gulped and whispered, so quietly that he himself could barely hear, "I'm…sorry."