Draco walked along the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade, staring blankly down at his left forearm, where he knew the stigma of the dark lord was. Oh how he didn't want to get it. Of course not. He didn't necessarily mind the muggle-borns and half-bloods. And sure, he didn't understand the muggles way of life, but that didn't mean that they needed to become extinct. But he would do anything to please his father. He never gave him any attention before, only to reprimand and to scold. But now, he got attention. His father would talk to him at the dinner table instead of just talking to his mother. Draco, not watching where he was going, stumbled over a loose rock, lost his balance, and accidentally knocked not only himself, but a girl as well. As he regained his composure, he looked up and prepared to quickly say sorry and dismiss himself from the situation, when he say her. Of course it had to be her.

Hermione Granger twisted the ring around her finger again. It had just arrived in the mail this morning by owl. Apparently it was an heirloom that had been in their family for hundreds of years. It was pure gold, and she could feel it heavily on her right ring finger. He mother had sent it with a proposition. Hermione supposed that her mum thought that she could win her over with jewelry. Well, she couldn't. Her mother had wanted her to meet the boy that her parents had picked for her to marry over the Christmas hols. Her parents were 'traditional', and believed that arranged marriages always worked out. This guy was nearly ten years older than her, a doctor, and incredibly rich. Why they would try and arrange a marriage with him was beyond her. She didn't want to have an arranged marriage. She wanted to have a relationship that was based on love, not necessity. As she twisted the ring around her finger for what had to have been the hundredth time that day, she felt a body slam into hers, knocking her to her ground. She looked up, as she lay almost completely under this guy, and met steel grey eyes. Oh, not him. Of course it had to be him.

Malfoy quickly got up and offered her a hand up. She wasn't in the mood to argue with him today, so she took the hand and got up, dusting herself off. She released the hand that was still in hers and shook her head. "Today just isn't my day. I need some coffee." She whispered to herself just barely loud enough for herself to hear, so she was shocked to hear him to reply to her.

"Sorry. I'll treat you to a coffee."As she opened her mouth, either in doubt or protest, he smiled. "It's my pleasure. Besides, I think we both need a pick me up."

She closed her mouth and sighed, muttering a "Fine". Malfoy smiled wider.

"Great! I know this great coffee shop, but it's a little bit hidden, if you don't mind seclusion." Hermione was really confused. Really, really confused. Why would Malfoy, who had bullied her because of her heritage, want to take her out to coffee? Sure, she wouldn't mind being able to spend more time with someone who could actually hold an intelligent conversation, but it was still incredibly confusing as to his Hermione was a girl of logic. She relied completely on logic to sort things out for her. But just this once, she let her heart take over instead of her head, and she knew it would come back to bite her.

So, as promised, he took her to a small coffee shop, and after they ordered, they stood there awkwardly for a moment until Hermione decided that she needed answers.

"Why are you doing this, Malfoy?" At his furrowed brows, she elaborated. "Treating me to coffee, being nice, not hexing me? I thought we were enemies or something like that?" Malfoy sighed and sat down at a table, she followed him intent on getting her answers.

"First of all, my name's Draco. It's there for a reason. And, I was raised a gentleman. That and you owe me for punching me in third year" He gave her a cheeky smile.

"Oh, you know you deserved it. I don't owe you anything." Hermione scoffed

"Are you so sure of that?" Draco questioned.

"Yes." She seemed almost confident in her answer, Draco mused.

"Fourth year." Granger scowled.

"Alright. So I owe you one thing. But what's your ulterior motive?" Hermione gripped the cup in her hand harder, and Draco, sensing that if she gripped it any harder the tpo would come off and she would have coffee everywhere, reached over and pried her fingers away from the cup. Hermione scowled at him again. She knew what she was doing. She didn't need his help. He was lucky that she didn't walk out of there right that moment.

But they ended up talking for an hour, their coffees left to go cold,and departed ways, each with insight into the other's life.

3 days later

Hermione searched around her trunk. Where did she put it? It can't be too far. As she completely messed up her previously neat school trunk, she found what she was looking for. Her book of Hogwarts: A History. But it felt a bit thicker than it normally would. Her brows furrowed as she flipped through the pages to find out what was making that much of a difference. It was…. A letter? She grabbed the letter out of the book, completely forgetting about what she wanted the book for, and sat down on her bed. Granger was written in beautiful cursive on the front, and it made Hermione immediately curious. So, she opened the letter and started reading.

Granger,

I guess I should start this with the fact that we now have no debts between us. Because I owed you a favor still. I think that what I have done should have fixed something. Because whether you like it or not, I do have more power than you. Not in magical abilities, but in cunning and politics? Completely. Although, if you want to test that theory, meet me at the Room of Requirement after dinner.

Anyways, back to what I was meaning to write this letter for. Because you always have Potter, Weasley, or Weaslette with you, I figured the best way to tell you would be through a letter. You left your copy of this in the library yesterday, and I put the letter in the book. I then ran into Weaslette and asked her to put it back in your trunk. Just in case you were wondering.

I'm sorry to say that I may have broken our agreement. You told me not to tell anyone about your arranged marriage, and I may have told someone. But I only told my mother. And I need you to trust me, even just for a minute, that this will not get back to the Dark Lord. But I told my mother, asking for her to do something about it. Because I, like you, believe that one should get to choose who they marry and love. And your mother talked to my mother. And, well, your mother called off the arranged marriage, I guess. At least, that's the only information I have gotten from my mother. You should be receiving an owl from your mother soon. My mother lent her the Malfoy family owl, so it should be a dark grey one. I wish you luck, Granger.

You're Welcome,

Malfoy