A/N: This story was written in 2015 for my little sister as a Christmas gift. I hope you enjoy it as well.

❝A Lesson in Manners❞

❖Chapter One❖

The Conflict

"You foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach!"

Hermione couldn't remember one time she'd felt a rage such as the one that now coursed through her, making her hair stand on end, little sparks of magic shooting out from the frizzy tendrils. Her eyes blazed as she shoved her wand under Malfoy's chin, pushing him backward until his back pressed against the raised stone overlooking the greenhouses and Hagrid's hut.

"Hermione, no!"

The little witch paid no heed to Ron's call as she snarled in the face of the snivelling coward. How dare he.

How dare he.

He was the one to blame in this situation. Because of his pompous facade of superiority he'd dragged a minor incident out to the point to where an innocent magical being was about to lose his life.

"C'mon Hermione, he's not worth it." Ron's voice broke through her rage and she felt her eyebrows pull down in a fierce frown. He might not be worth it but he definitely deserved it.

Letting out a huff Hermione dropped her wand and turned away.

Don't stoop to his level old gel, she told herself.

She had nearly convinced herself until she heard Malfoy's affected little snicker from behind her. Something in Hermione snapped. Whirling around in a blur of pink and brown she whipped out her fist and smacked it right into Malfoy's pointed nose, feeling a swell of satisfaction as she heard a sickening crack and watched his head bounce off the stone wall behind him.

Triumphant brownish eyes met shocked grey as Malfoy raised his too-manicured hand to his face, blanching when he pulled it away to see blood. Hermione watched as Goyle and some other Slytherin she didn't recognize grab Malfoy by either arm and drag him away, stumbling in their haste.

Hermione turned back to Harry and Ron, her eyes wide, her pulse racing and mind moving a mile a minute. Adrenaline, also known as epinephrine. Stress hormone secreted from adrenal glands. Amino acid tyrosine to dopamine, then noradrenalin to adrenalin. Adrenaline binds to receptor sites on heart and arteries. Increased heart rate and respiration. Fight-or-Flight response.

"That felt good." Hermione said, her eyes sparkling, a smile on her face.

"Good? More like bloody brilliant." Ron said, a lopsided grin spreading as he looked from Hermione to Harry. Harry's soft smile belied the fierce satisfaction burning in his green eyes as he nodded at Hermione. All three Gryffindors walked abreast to Hagrid's hut with a small hope that perhaps things might work out.

It was all for naught however, as minutes later they stood upon the same hill and watched as the axe of McNair fell and ended the life of one Hippogriff by the name of Buckbeak; a proud and noble beast.

...more than one innocent life can be saved…

Hermione ran.

She ran as fast as her short legs could take her, struggling to keep up with Harry's frantic lanky strides.

A werewolf.

A professor.

Her professor.

A mindless predator out for blood.

Their blood.

C'mon Hermione old gel, keep going, Hermione encouraged herself. Stay calm.

How? She was tearing through the Forbidden Forest with her best friend as they fled for their lives. Facts. Facts always grounded her, let her know what was real. Steadied her mind.

A fact, think. Hermione yelled at herself as she hopped over an exposed root and tried to keep up with Harry.

"Polyjuice Potion.." Hermione whispered to herself as she splashed through a small stream and scrambled up an embankment to huddle with Harry. Precious few moments spent struggling to catch their breath.

A snarling howl ripped through the air and both children were running again.

Fluxweed, three measures. Picked at full moon.

Ducking under a thick bramble to head another direction.

Add two bundles of knot grass.

A gasp of breath as the stitch in her side grew more painful.

"Stir three times clockwise." Hermione saw the rock before Harry did and snaked an arm out to steady him when he stumbled.

"Thanks." He gasped out.

Hermione nodded.

Wave wand. Let stew for one hour in copper cauldron.

The snarling was getting closer and Hermione felt panic well up in her breast. Quickly tamping it down she continued to recite to herself.

Four leeches.

Jump. Stumble. Steady. I've got you Harry!

"Lacewing flies, stewed for 21 days, crushed. Two measures added. Heat for half a minute.

Falling. Harry's arm this time was there to steady her. Her puffed out thanks received no reply as they entered a further unknown part of the Forest.

The werewolf, Professor Lupin, seemed to have fallen behind but the children did not stop. They could not. Harry caught Hermione. Hermione pushed Harry. They'd make it. She knew. Together. Please.

Suddenly! The werewolf was before them, Harry and Hermione let out twin shrieks of fear. Fear and harrowing surprise. The gaping, horrendous maw of the beast-Oh professor!-perilous and daunting as the figure stalked toward the duo. Hermione saw the end of her life before her in the glittering golden brown eyes that had once been so sweet and full of kindness.

Her mind continued its recitation even as she gripped Harry's hand in her own. No, not Harry! She felt his grip break from hers, strong arms snaked around her, pulling her close. "Get behind me Hermione." His voice was shaking.

Three measures boomslang skin.

Harry embraced her hard before abruptly releasing her, shoving her behind his back. She clutched his hand again even as he forced her away from their pursuer, keeping his body between their predator and herself. She could feel his pulse racing in his thumb. Digital artery. She pressed her forehead into his shoulder.

One measure bicorn horn crushed into fine powder. Hermione felt her throat choke up as she steeled herself for the end. "Oh Harry."

But! Just before the great wolf leapt Buckbeak was suddenly between them. Hermoine's head snapped up. We're saved! Great clawed forelegs beat in the air. A screech of anger filled the forest as the Hippogriff brought his deadly talons down, tearing into the snout of the werewolf before him.

Harry held Hermione's hand tightly, rushing past the battling creatures he pulled her away, both children's eyes wide and chests heaving, neither stopping.

"Let's go!" Harry whispered harshly, dragging Hermione with him as he made his way toward the lake.

Upon reaching the mass of now frozen water Hermione watched horror-stricken as the Dementors whirled in ominous, hungry clouds; passing by the other Harry and the supine form of Sirius Black.

Even from across the lake Hermione could feel the effects of the Dementors on her: the sound of harsh laughter and that hateful word invading her thoughts as the cloaked black figures brought out the painful memories she'd worked so hard to forget. Mudblood. The word seemed etched into her memory and heart as if by a blade, hidden from all but her.

"This is horrible." Hermione breathed out, her eyes guarded and cold. Add one additional scoop of Lacewings.

"Don't worry." Harry said, gripping his wand. His green eyes fixed on the spot where his past self and his godfather lay beside the frozen water. "My dad will come. Right there." Hermione looked at him with sad eyes but didn't say anything. "You'll see...he'll come any minute. He'll conjure the Patronus."

Harry said it with such firm belief that Hermione ached to believe with him-but she didn't. She couldn't. Because he couldn't. James Potter couldn't come. Not James Potter because...James Potter was dead. Not James...no-but Harry. Harry Potter was here. Here with her, standing where It had happened.

You're a great wizard, Harry.

Hermione knew what was to happen, she wasn't anything if not clever, and she'd worked it out.

"No one's coming, Harry." Hermione said gently, her eyes fixed on her best friend as she saw the confusion and hurt cross his face.

"He WILL." Harry said again, his eyes flashing. "He will come."

Hermione spared a glance back across the lake where she saw Harry fall. No one deserves this. Her heart constricted and she felt tears well up in her eyes.

Stir three times anti-clockwise.

"No one is coming." She said, tears now falling icily down her cheeks. "You're dying! Both of you...and no one is coming."

Hermione saw Harry's face change as it hit him. Harry set his jaw and stepped forward. Hermione's heart began to beat faster, so fast it almost hurt as she watched him.

Split potion as desired and add piece of person to change into.

Harry stepped high on the boulder overlooking the lake and raised his wand, his green eyes almost glowing in the frosty night.

Wave wand once more over sample.

Harry took a deep breath, his hand and voice completely steady as he shouted, tracing his wand in the intricate motions required for the charm.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Hermione watched as a silvery stag surged out from Harry's wand and charged across the open expanse of frozen water. Wave after wave of pulsing silver light drove back the Dementors from their victims. Feelings of love and joy seeped into Hermione as she watched the majestic stag drive away the foul creatures, her tears still shining brightly.

Potion is now completed. Use at brewer's discretion.

"Well done, Harry." Hermione whispered, watching the awe inspiring sight of her best friend. No, not Harry. Not today. Not ever.

❖Part Two❖

The Turning Point

Draco Malfoy sat in a mostly hidden alcove of the library staring at the latest missive from his father that lay clasped loosely in his pale hand.

...disappointed...to have let a filthy mudblood lay a hand on him...disgraceful...should be ashamed...will have a discussion when returned for the summer…

Draco wanted to crumple the stupid letter up and throw it in nearest fireplace.

He didn't want to have been smacked in the face by Granger. Not that he was surprised afterwards when she had, he'd been a right arse to her. Always had been, always would be. She was a Muggle-born Gryffindor for Circe's sake. Not to mention a complete swot. Uppity know-it-all who, for some forsaken reason, deemed it necessary to beat him out in every subject.

Of course his dislike for her was warranted. She tried too hard to piss him off. Parading around with Potter and Weaselby like a bloody princess. Answering every question in class with the incessant hand-waving, not even giving another person a chance.

That's why he loved double potions, Snape always put her in place.

Potter too, the tosser.

He didn't despise her for her blood status, no, that was just a contributing factor...he hated her because she thought she was better than everyone else. She was too intelligent to be bothered. Granger. Draco scowled to himself as he rubbed the back of his head.

The smack in the face had broken his nose but the impact of his head on the stone wall had given him a pretty nasty concussion. Draco made a mental note to always remain out of smacking distance from now on when taunting her. She was wicked fast with her hexes but at least he'd have a chance to shield himself if she did. He was no good at the physical aspect of violence. In fact, he abhorred physical violence, the entire act was demeaning and brutish in his opinion.

Just like Granger, he mused with a nasty tone of thought.

Suddenly, there was a shuffle of feet and papers and Draco hastily tucked the letter beneath the reference book lying unused on the small table. Draco made no attempt to hide his eye roll or his groan of annoyance when a woefully familiar head of bushy brown hair came into view.

Once Granger had pulled herself into his alcove, she straightened her robes and stared at him. Her brown eyes clear and curious as she looked at him. Draco felt slightly unnerved at the lack of hostility in her dark eyes and felt himself go immediately on the offensive.

"What's this then, Granger?" He asked snidely. "Pot-head and Weaselby finally drop you like the trash you are?" His face schooled into a sneer he'd seen so often on his father's face. "Looking for a place to hide maybe? In need of a good cry?"

Draco was further unnerved when Granger merely cocked her head at him, much like that abomination she called a cat did when it'd seen something mildly interesting.

"Shall I answer based on order...or were you just making conversation?" Her clipped tone and educated speech always rankled him. She sounded so...so like him...but Father had always painted Muggles as uneducated sorts without proper upbringing. Granger, however, sounded as if she'd been raised not a house away from his parents' manor. It both confused and irked him.

"As if I'd try to make conversation with you." He spat that last part out, his eyes narrowed as he stiffened his spine and tried to stare down his nose at her. It didn't work that well since he was sitting as she still stood, arms laden with papers.

"Well, considering as how we weren't speaking until you initiated and now we are, as unpleasant as it is, in a conversation of sorts Messr Malfoy...it would stand to reason that you were-in fact-making conversation." Her cool reply threw him as he struggled to find a way to come back from that.

"You should know better than to speak to your betters, you mudblood." Draco sat back, a triumphant smile on his face.

But Granger merely blinked at him, her tanned face devoid of emotion as she slowly let out a sigh. Draco's eyes narrowed in amusement as she moved, thinking she was going to run away like she usually did when he pulled out the M word.

To his surprise she walked forward and placed her papers on the table opposite of him and sloughing off her bag.

"What are you doing?" He demanded as she stretched her back and rolled her shoulders.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She shot back as she pulled out the other chair to sit, making herself comfortable.

"Granger," Draco bit out, his eyes flashing, "this is my table. Leave." Before someone sees us.

Granger didn't even glance at him as she pulled out a quill and a notebook labeled Charms.

"I don't see your name on it, Malfoy." She then made a great show of peering about the table. Upon seeing no name she raised her eyebrows at him before turning back to her notes.

"Granger." Draco ground out. "This is my table. I was here first. Now leave."

Granger didn't move as she began her revisions. "Well, I am here now Malfoy so...you can either leave or shut up and do your revisions. If you want any chance of beating me out in Transfiguration then you had better get started. If I remember correctly my last quarterly ranked four points higher than yours."

Draco clenched his teeth in anger and he flexed his hands into tight fists. That uppity, goody-goody, know-it-all, SWOT!

"Not likely Granger." He said as he too pulled out his notes, glaring at her. "I was here first, so if anyone is to leave it will be you, you buck-faced beaver."

Granger only rolled her eyes as she steadily took notes while otherwise ignoring the boy in front of her.

Draco sullenly began his revisions, his pride not allowing him to do anything but, and hoped that no other students, especially-Merlin forbid-members of his own house, would see them.

Minutes past as they steadily ignored each other. Minutes gave way to hours until finally the dinner hour neared. At quarter to seven Granger finally shut her notebook and began sorting her notes. Packing them away silently she stood up, hefting her book bag over one shoulder, and headed toward the thin entrance to the hidden table.

Draco watched as she sidled through the opening, her face calm seemingly uncaring as she left. Then, just before she passed out of sight she looked back at him, her dark brows furrowed inward as she seemed to debate with herself for a moment. Taking a breath to tell her off Draco was stunned silent when she spoke before him.

"Good evening, Messr. Malfoy. I hope you have a pleasant dinner." And then she was gone.

Draco blinked.

He opened his mouth but no words came.

After a moment he clicked his jaw shut and stared at the gap in the bookcases, his mind struggling to cope. Nasty comments and sarcasm he could deal with. Suspicion and ridicule he was used to...but that open civility...the complete lack of duplicity in her words was not something he was prepared to handle.

He knew of Granger enough to know she was an awful liar, as much as she would deny. Draco had seen her honesty as she wished him well and it unnerved him. No one, no one, not even those in his own house were open and honest.

Draco was confused again. He didn't like that. That idiot-no, not even in his fondest dreams could Granger be counted as an idiot-that...bloody Gryffindor, was using her damned sentimentality on him.

Draco scoffed. He'd soon set her right. He was a Malfoy. He was Draco Malfoy. The last thing he needed was some swot of a Gryffindor hanging about. Especially the likes of one Hermione Granger.

I'll show her, he groused to himself as he packed his books up and headed to his common room to wash up for dinner. I'll show her.

The next day she was back, sitting in the same seat after classes, just as the night before. Draco felt his arched brows pull down in a frown as he stomped into his, up until now, safe haven and dropped his bag loudly on the table. He felt a jolt of satisfaction when Granger jumped and clutched her chest, her brown eyes giving him an exasperated look. Exasperated not hostile. I'll soon take care of that.

"Back again, mudblood?" He sneered at her as he unpacked his books.

The girl in front of him did not acknowledge him or his insult, just continued to write. The steady scritch-scratch of her quill grating on Draco's nerves.

"You are being ridiculous." Draco said, glaring at her. "Leave you-you disgusting Gryffindor!" No response, just the steady scratch of her quill greeted him.

After a moment Draco huffed out a breath. "What? Finally decided to accept your place, mudblood? You should. I've always known you were too base to be allowed to speak to the likes of me." Draco felt his anger burn as she continued to write. Quick as a flash he shot out a pale hand a snatched the quill from her hand, snapping it in two and tossing it aside. His unnaturally colored eyes stared at her as if daring her to say something.

Granger, without even glancing at him, pulled a new quill out and dipped it in her inkwell and began writing where she had been interrupted.

Draco clenched his teeth and blew a breath out of his nose.

"Granger." He bit out.

Slowly she looked up at him, her hand pausing it's incessant writing as she peered at him, her face set in a polite manner.

"Yes, Malfoy?" She asked, her head cocked to the side again.

"What. Are. You. Doing." Each word was bit out as he struggled to keep his temper. The last thing he needed was for his shouting to draw the thrice-damned Librarian, so he kept his voice even.

Granger's eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "I'm sitting here revising my notes for potions. Examinations are hardly a week away and I was having trouble remembering if you keep the wings on the flying seahorses when brewing the Girding Potion."

"Uh…" Draco blinked. "No! I mean, what are you doing here? At my table. There is an entire library open to you and you come here of all places?" Draco narrowed eyes grew hard. "What are you playing at, Granger?"

Granger sighed softly. "I don't know."

"What?" Draco asked, his eyebrows raised.

"I. Don't. Know." She said, exasperation lacing her voice. "I just...for once didn't want to be out there," she gestured lazily toward the opening in the stacks, "where people could see me and ask questions. I just wanted to hide where I could just be silent and work."

"So," Draco began. "of all places, you chose here?" His tone was incredulous as he set aside his hostility momentarily in his curiosity.

Granger sighed. "I suppose." After a moment she shifted in her seat, clearing her throat. "I mean...it's not as if we've ever had a real reason to dislike each other...cultural differences notwithstanding. Yes, we've been deplorable to each other in the past...this year especially...but I was going over our interactions over the last few years and none of our spats actually originate from genuine dislike...it's more as it we were at odds without reason and then fabricated things about each other to justify our dislike."

When Draco scoffed Granger just raised a hand, her face pleading.

"Please, just think about this logically." She asked, her eyes shining with something Draco didn't recognize. "Yes, I am a bossy, bushy-haired know-it-all-"

"Swot."

"-swot...but you're still a spoilt, entitled berk whose head is swollen up like a birthday balloon."

Draco raised an eyebrow at her, a sneer stealing across his pointed face.

"Really now? That sounds like perfect reason to dislike each other, in my opinion." He said snidely, flipping open his book viciously as he found the page he was looking for. "And for your information: yes. You do keep the wings on the seahorses for the Girding Potion, otherwise it would call for regular seahorses."

Granger's eyes lit up as she quickly peered down at her notes. "Oh! Brilliant! Thank you."

Draco only glowered at her as he flipped back to his chapter and made as if to ignore her.

"Malfoy, it's seems as if you need a lesson in manners." Granger's voice cut across the table and Draco let out a groan.

"What?" He asked, too weary to pretend he had not heard her.

"If someone says 'thank you' it is usually appropriate to respond with a 'you're welcome' don't you agree?"

Draco only rolled his eyes as he began taking brief notes on his potions book. This was his table and he'd be damned if he was run off by some silly little girl.

"I only respect my equals and treat them accordingly. Not you lesser beings with borrowed magic."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Granger shake her head but she didn't comment, only turning back to her notes. Hours passed and soon dinner was approaching and Draco pretended not to notice as Granger packed up her books and left, stopping briefly to bid him a pleasant evening before disappearing.

Draco once again felt confused by her behavior, confused but intrigued. The last two years of them being at odds had been a constant in his life, but now he wasn't so sure. Just two evenings of this new routine and Draco was quietly questioning his reasons for his dislike of Granger.

Part Three

The Return to Normalcy?

The evenings continued for the rest of the week and through the weekend. Exams were upon them and Draco was unsure of his feelings toward this particular happening.

Potter was unchanged, still an attention seeking arse and Weasley was his ginger shadow with a chip on his shoulder the size of which rivaled his appetite.

But, beside her blood status and being in a different house, Granger did seem like the sort that he would associate with. The last week and a few days had passed in amiable silence what was only broken when one would ask a hesitant question of the other.

It was new to him, this civility and-dare he say-camaraderie, that came with associating with someone who was on par with his intellect. After the last years of only really being around the likes of Crabbe and Goyle, and occasionally Zabini, Draco was welcome to the change; though he was loathe to admit it.

Exams soon passed but Draco still returned to the library even as the school year ended. The train would depart in the morning but Draco snuck away-yes snuck-out of his common room under the pretense of raiding the kitchens and made his way to the library.

After sneaking past Madam Pince Draco made his way to their-his alcove and sure enough Granger was there. Sitting quietly with a large tome resting in her lap she sat lounging in the cushioned seat beneath the window, her feet dangling over a pillow tucked under her knees. Her mass of hair was twisted up into a large bun...and there was at least three quills sticking out of her bushy curls haphazardly.

Draco was unsure why he had come but he knew that whatever had happened in the last three weeks had changed the relationship between him and his schoolmate drastically. He wasn't aware when, all he knew was that it was different. The thing that scared him the most is that he didn't care that it was different.

It wasn't fake, or forced, or regulated like so many things in his life. She gave her company freely and asked for nothing in return and it astounded him. He only hoped that whatever happened in the months to come that she would allow him this small haven when they returned.

Hermione watched as Malfoy entered the alcove, his pale face was calm, but his eyes held a brief glint of apprehension. A feeling she understood, for it was running riotous in her as well.

She couldn't understand why she had come to his table in the first place, or why she kept coming back. All she could see when she questioned herself was the image of a broken and tired Sirius Black as he told them briefly of his defiance of his family. At an age hardly older than she... he had gone against his parents and been disowned for it. Eventually he would lose everything. When she looked at Malfoy now...she didn't see the evil little boy she'd always painted him as...no, she saw a boy who was terrified of going against the will of his father to the point where he would taunt, ridicule, and badger people he thought-his father thought-were lesser.

Now though, when she looked at Draco, she saw a boy starved for friendship and acceptance. Just like she had been. So she would put aside her prejudice and be a friend to him...just like James Potter had done for a boy that had come from a Dark family. Just as they had done for a poor boy inflicted by a disease that made him into, what he believed, to be a monster.

"Hey." She said quietly, shutting her book and turning to face him.

"Hey." He said back, walking in to sit down in one of the plush chairs around the table.

"You ready to go home then?" Hermione asked.

"I suppose." Draco answered. "I do miss my mother sometimes."

Hermione nodded but didn't comment, not wishing to draw attention to the fact that he had shared something with her.

"What will happen now?" Hermoine asked, idly playing with the cuff of the sleeve of her robe.

"I don't know." Draco answered honestly, his affected tone and sneer had been abandoned over a week ago. "What do you want to happen?"

"I don't know."

"Things will change."

"Will they?"

"Won't they?"

The two stared at each other for a moment before nodding.

"I shan't tell." Hermione said finally.

"Neither shall I." Draco assured her.

"Friends?" Hermione asked, reaching a hand out across the table.

"You wish, Granger." Draco said with a mock sneer as he grasped her hand and shook it. Both stared at each other for another minute before the clock struck the hour.

"The leaving feast will be starting soon."

"Indeed it will be."

Hermione smiled as she picked up her book. "I'll go first, like usual."

Draco nodded as he watched her walk away. Just the same as she did every evening Hermione turned and smiled at him.

"Good evening, Malfoy. Have a pleasant dinner."

"Good evening, Granger."

"Oi! Watch where you're walking, you filthy little mudblood!"

"Sod off, Malfoy!"

Ron shook his head as he munched on a chocolate frog as he watched Draco and his goons disappear down the hallway from his, Harry, and Hermione's carriage.

"Can you believe him? The train's not even movin' and he's already ruined the whole trip. Tosser." The redhead grumbled as he stuffed another frog into his mouth. Hermoine looked disgusted at the redhead's manners, or lack thereof. Harry just glared out the door until Malfoy's blonde, pompous head was out of sight.

"I hate him." Harry growled out as he slammed the carriage door shut.

"Honestly, you two." Hermione said as she rolled her eyes. "I'm sure there are more interesting things to talk about than how much you hate Draco Malfoy. Now please, I'm going to try to enjoy this ride home. Our last trip was decidedly unpleasant." Hermione lifted her book to shield her face as she smiled widely at Harry as Ron grumbled. Lowering an eyelid in a wink at her best friend she was delighted that he let out a little chuckle before throwing a sweet at her. Oh Harry, she thought with affection as a smile took over her face, I adore you. Unwrapping the parcel her best friend had thrown her Hermoine made sure both boys were occupied before she glanced at the little note she unobtrusively pulled out of her pocket.

She had felt Malfoy shove something into her robe pocket when he had shouldered his way through them standing in the hallway. Glancing briefly at the best friend she had ever had, and the boy who came attached, as they began munching through various concoctions from the food trolley Hermione carefully unfolded the hidden missive.

Unknown to her the smile on her face had grown, just as a green eyed glance was thrown her way. Black eyebrows furrowed as she read the short missive.

Sorry you have to endure such dreadfully dull company. I too must suffer the agony of the decidedly less intelligent masses.

Have a good break. Don't do anything too Muggle or I shall have to break off any contact with you.

Best Regards,

A Friend.

Hermione sighed softly as she refolded the note and tucked it back into the deep pocket of her robe.

Yes, she thought to herself, perhaps more than one innocent can be saved.

Thank you for reading, cheers.

The Pirate King