Hermione pushed open the portrait to the Head's Common Room and met with the most unlikely vision she ever thought she would see. Looking around she checked the Head-boy hadn't fallen foul of a trickster's prank or wasn't actually restrained in some way; but no, it was real. Draco Malfoy was intently, and apparently of his own accord, situated beside the Common Room fireplace reading one of Hermione's "horrid mudblood books"- as Draco liked to call them.

In fact, Malfoy seemed so engrossed in the book his head remained bowed over it as Hermione entered their private quarters. He didn't appear to be aware of her presence at all- until she started laughing at him. Hermione giggled as she wandered slowly to the adjacent chaise longue. First; she found amusement at Draco's odd choice of literature, second; the look on Draco's face when he had realised she was there was priceless. However, oddly the book remained open. Draco didn't even attempt to Obliviate the memory from Hermione's brain instead he simply looked at her.

"Malfoy, since when are my muggle books good enough for you? I wouldn't have expected you to touch them with a 30ft wand let alone your precious pureblood hands." Sarcasm dripped so heavily off Hermione's tongue that it was a wonder it didn't stain the delicate gold and silver silks from which her seat was fashioned. It was October and over a month of Draco's insults she had decided to fight fire with fire, sometimes literally.

Instead of sending back a second-rate insult about Hermione's heritage Draco continued to look at her blankly, his eyes laced with only the barest regret and fear. Hermione laughed again and was about to get up when Draco appeared to regain the ability to articulate his simple abuse, among other things.

"Hermione, I mean Granger, have you ever read this book?" Hermione glanced at the multi-coloured cover without focusing; she knew exactly which book Draco was reading.

"No, unfortunately not, Malfoy. Dumbledore prepared the books in our common room for when I would be Head girl; he told Professor McGonagall I might find it interesting, I'm sure he'd be glad you liked it, Malfoy, but I really-"

Draco cut her off; "You've never read it?"

"No. Malfoy, I just told you that-"

"You didn't write it then?" He cut her off again. His face was an odd mixture of fear, disbelief and sheer horror but with each question an element of hope passed over his features. Hermione, however, did not appreciate the subtleties in Malfoy's facial expressions tonight; she had just spent all day rushed off her feet with classes, head's duties and trying to sort out Harry and Ginny's troublesome love life- oh, and worrying about Voldemort.

"Malfoy, what the hell are you talking about? Funnily enough I don't have time to publish muggle novels while finishing my school education!" His face dropped so suddenly Hermione couldn't fail to notice his rapid desolation. "Malfoy?" He looked at her but his eyes were so blank she felt like he was calmly regarding the wall behind her. "It's just a book, you know, nothing to get stressed out about."

Now it was Draco's turn to laugh- although his brief mirth was bitter and disbelieving. "Hermione, look at the book." Hermione's shock at his casual use of her first name accompanied by his eerie tone caused her to fumble the book Draco so calmly- and unusually politely- handed her.

She couldn't restrain her gasp, nor did she have the presence of mind to want to. The title as bright as a phoenix's fire terrified her to her very soul- "Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince". The book was heavy and very, very real but she still rounded on the bleak, young man waiting with spectre-like composure beside the flickering fireplace.

"What kind of sick joke are you trying to pull here, Malfoy? I swear if you've cursed this book, or… or anything… I won't even hesitate to remove ALL Slytherin's house points before you can even say flying ferret!"

Draco didn't flinch. "This is much bigger than house points, Hermione, bigger than Hogwarts. I don't know how to prove it to you but there are five other books in there along with this one all bearing the boy-wonder's name. These six books- as impossible as it is- seem to document the turbulent lives of you, Potter and Weasley as you grew up at Hogwarts, in extreme detail."

Hermione paused before grabbing the book once more from Draco's hand and scanning the back page; stifled gasps escaping her mouth at each insane confirmation of Draco's words. She looked up, and gave Draco the benefit of her familiar glare; "I don't have time to read this whole book," Draco subdued a sigh when he realised she wasn't going to accept this odd new plot-twist.

She continued; "Malfoy, if this is some deranged plot- and I really do mean completely, utterly and insanely deranged- there will be hell to pay," Draco held up a hand and surprisingly she was silenced. Fear drives even the brave into compliancy.

"Hermione, in first year you, Potter and Weasley worked together to acquire the Philosopher's Stone. You solved Snape's potions riddle, Weasley played wizard chess and Potter flew around after a key. You three even faced a giant dog called Fluffy." Draco continued as calmly as possible in this current situation, "It's all in the first book and it's the same each year up until the end of sixth year."

Still firmly stuck in denial Hermione barked; "Anyone could know that! That doesn't prove anything! This is a trap-"

"This isn't a trap!" Draco shouted to make himself heard this time; "You call Sirius Black Snuffles because he can transfigure into a big black dog! You started Dumbledore's army and are the reason that Raveclaw girl had the world SNEAK on her head for months! Hagrid has a giant in the forest who calls you Hermy! Potter has a bloody invisibility cloak!" Draco realised he's continued shouting even though Hermione had stopped retaliating long ago but he still continued. "I even know about the Horcruxes."

"But… Who? How?" Draco's face remained insatiably blank as Hermione stuttered disbelieving questions.

Abruptly, Hermione stood up. "We have to tell Professor McGonagall right now; this… this is trouble…" Hermione took out her wand and pointed it directly at Draco's chest, "I demand you give me these books immediately! I will be forced to curse you if you disobey."

Taken aback Draco replied, "Well, I hadn't exactly decided to tell you all about these books just so I could run off with them, Hermione."

She lowered her wand slowly but remained pointedly vigilant. "Go get the other books and if you try anything I won't hesitate to kill you." Draco nodded, her quiet resolved threat was much more terrifying than her earlier screams and, now he knew what she'd managed these past six years, he was glad he was helping her this time as they exited the Head's room- him weighed down with books while she strode quickly and confidently muttering odd semi-sentences under her breath.

Hermione and Draco shuffled down the hall after they exited the Headmistress' office both deep in thought. Barely registering the pupils scattered in the corridors Hermione couldn't contain her frustration at Professor McGonagall's reaction; as much as she hated to admit it Dumbledore was dead- how was she meant to trust that whatever reason he had left these books in her study was meant to be beneficial to the cause? It was down right laughable to believe they'd been left there just so Draco could read them.

Huffing, Hermione threw open the secret portrait to the Head's rooms and proceeded to fume her way up the stairs to her private room. Usually Hermione couldn't help but treat her new quarters with respect similar to a grand cathedral- she certainly admonished Draco's slovenly attitude regularly enough to make him reconsider before entering their rooms after a mucky Quidditch practice, without so much as a simple cleaning spell- but tonight the room's wonders held no power. Truthfully, the silken fabrics of the furniture still glistened silver and gold, the peaceful grey and chocolate brown walls were still as comforting and peaceful, even the ornate fittings of the room still reflected the warm glow of the blazing fire- Hermione was too absorbed to notice, let alone care. She continued with the direct purpose of storming her room, conjuring some hot chocolate laced heavily with dreamless-sleep potion and ignoring tonight's odd events, instead enjoying a night of peaceful slumber.

Hermione was almost halfway up the solid, chestnut staircase before Draco broke the taut and brooding silence. "Is this a joke to you, Granger?" The sentence was similar to so many other collisions Draco and Hermione had shared since the beginning of the year, it was almost tame considering it didn't include the words "mud", "blood" or "dirty, little traitor".

Hermione was shocked however and turned to face him instantly; since finding the book, and throughout the entire meeting with the Professor, Draco had managed to call her Hermione and even sided with her opinion once or twice. Considering Professor McGonagall's lack lustre reaction to the books Hermione wasn't keen to loose Draco's support so soon- "What do you mean?" Watching Draco's figure as he flickered from visibility to silhouette as he sat on the suite before the fire.

He stood, "You know exactly what I mean? McGonagall wasn't too impressed with your trickery, was she? Of course, she'd never admonish one of the Golden Trio, oh no, your secret's safe with her."

In silence Hermione descended the stairs so she was once more on the main floor of the common room. His quiet anger shocked her and she automatically checked her wand was still at her side. "I don't know what you mean, Draco?"

"Don't call me Draco, you deceitful…" He paused in silence, observing her. "You expect just because you argue with McGonagall I'll think we're on the same side? Believe that this book is nothing to do with you? I'm not an idiot, Granger!" He ran his hand through his hair subconsciously and Hermione was lost; he was screaming at her but at the same time his body seemed to be suffering from extreme stress, he made even less sense than usual. "What is it you expect this will gain for you? A spy? An ally? Or is it just a game; a little bet to see if the Golden Trio's know-it-all can break Draco Malfoy with nothing more than a book?"

Hermione watched him sit, almost calmly, his Slytherin uniform stark against the golden sateen of the suite. Slowly, she crossed the room so she was before the fire in front of Draco; she expected direct eye contact would be necessary if she was to even try and understand what Draco was incensed with. Her eyes lingered on his inscrutable face until he returned her gaze. Slowly negotiations began.

"I haven't even a vague idea of why or what you're shouting at me for." She held eye contact.

"The book." Hermione fought not to roll her eyes or simply conjure something to throw at the infuriating blonde before her.

"Well, yes. The book."

"See. You did have a vague idea." Again, the almost overwhelming urge to hit him came over her, she was growing in tolerance to this feeling with every day they were forced to share accommodation, but it was still intense.

"Draco, about this miniscule issue we are actually on the same side. We both think the book is dangerous so please explain why you are threatening me and treating me like an idiot."

With steely confidence Draco's eyes flickered over Hermione's face, "You're treating me like an idiot so it only seems fair." His exterior assurance belied the torrent of thoughts barraging his brain with every second. The book had been nothing short of a revelation, he knew each and every detail of the trio's life at Hogwarts, but he refused to believe that Granger- allegedly the smartest witch of his generation- would be irresponsible enough to leave such and important document lying around. Her alarm seemed genuine and yet paradoxically he still refused to believe that this book was not her doing. This book wasn't- couldn't- be real.

Hermione lost her patience; "What are you attempting to communicate, you worthless ferret."

"This book." He looked up at her and held her gaze so he could gauge her following reaction. "Since there is no way it's truthful or correct, I propose you concocted this flimsy account for your own purposes- whatever they may be- so that I would read it and…" He halted.

"What?" Hermione's reaction was shock and outright rage at his unfinished sentence.

"It's just too unbelievable. What were you expecting? That I was just going to accept that there happened to be six books in our library you just never fancied reading? That McGonagall wasn't too worried even though this book could be leaked so easily? Did you really expect me to accept these books as the new gospel truth?" Draco looked hurt at the implication that Hermione thought so little of him, or at least so little of his intelligence.

Hermione couldn't contain her incredulity any longer. "That's what's unbelievable?" She sighed, quick and frustrated. "Draco, about two hours ago you were the one who alerted me to this book, you were the one who convinced me that it was real! And we just spent our time since trying to convince Professor McGonagall that it was real!" His eyes flickered, "What? Have you just changed your mind?" She consumed his stare before sitting on the sofa beside Draco, vaguely hoping for a calm conversation even with the enemy.

Abruptly, Draco put his head in his hands. The sudden silence was strange in contrast to their brief argument. Her brain done in and rational thought exhausted Hermione stared in the fire ignoring Draco's melodrama. After several minutes the hush became humid and Hermione felt her healthier instincts itching, she couldn't help herself; "Draco?"

He looked up so swiftly she almost fell off her chair. "This book?"

"Yes."

"It's real?"

"Yes."

"Really, real?" Hermione only nodded this time while attempting to scrutinise his surprisingly composed face; the only signs that this wasn't a typical conversation between the two was that neither were tossing abuse and Draco's fingers fluttering- controlled subconsciously.

Draco's head returned to his hands and Hermione felt this indicated her turn to talk. "I know it's odd and for me down-right creepy that this book is real but it still is. I doubted it too at first but we've both looked at them now; it's freaky, it's disturbing- and I don't hesitate to say that it's probably dark magic- but more than anything it's real."

This time only thirty or forty seconds passed before Draco looked up. His eyes seemed colder and more severe but oddly Hermione didn't feel the harshness was aimed at her as he painstaking watched her face, he must have seen something because suddenly his eyes shot desolate and his head tilted downwards once more.

Before he could return his head in his hands Hermione felt she ought to try and say something; "Draco?" She didn't know what else to say, not for the first time Hermione found she had no idea what was going through Malfoy's mind. He seemed to realise this and tried to articulate.

"The book… if it's real-" he saw Hermione's face, "It is real, but in them… In the books, well-" Hermione feeling creepy and compelled before she could stop herself rested her hand gently on his arm. Draco pulled away. "In the book-" he looked at her again so he'd be able to watch every second of her reaction, when really he still hadn't finished reacting himself. "In the book I'm one of the baddies."

As insensitive as she felt Hermione couldn't help but feel this was an anti-climax. He seemed to be waiting for her reaction. "Well, yes."

Even in the middle of all his existential turmoil Draco still managed to conjure a look so affronted anyone who had entered the room then would have thought Hermione must have kick- no, Crucio-ed a puppy to deserve it. However, his voice didn't hold to same certainty when he rebuked her; "What?"

"Well, Draco, I don't really know what to say. It usually takes a bit of mental preparation before attempting to explain the Laws of the world- I just don't really understand. You seem, well, shocked that you're- as you so carefully put it- a "baddie"."

"But…?" A pause. "I mean, if…" Another pause. "But I…" Hermione was torn; part of her felt bad that Draco genuinely seemed completely unaware of his entire identity and yet she still wished he would try and accept it a little quicker, she was already wrecked earlier from normal duties and didn't think she could handle a major philosophical debate tonight.

"Draco, I know this is hard to take but you are a "baddie"." He looked up as if to argue but she continued; "Look, it's late and I'm tired either we can go to sleep and talk about this in the morning, I don't think the book is too volatile a risk and we can't do anything tonight, or if you really want to talk can we just make this quick?"

Draco scowled and Hermione found she couldn't blame him, he was going through a lot and she wasn't exactly sympathetic, but if he expected her to talk this out with him as if they were best friends all of a sudden he was even more deranged than she knew. "Fine." Draco's scowl lessened. He seemed indifferent now to her, bordering on polite, Hermione couldn't help but listen. "I just want to understand a few things." Both instinctively turned towards each other so as to attempt a civilised conversation. "I'm a baddie?"

"Yes," she sighed, "we've gone over this."

"Snape and my father. Baddies?" Hermione nodded. "So," he was struggling and Hermione almost felt bad for her curt responses. "The whole mudblood-" she winced, "-pureblood, muggle stuff; it's…" he wavered, "it's crap." Again Hermione nodded feeling he needed reassurance.

"Draco, I-" he held up his hand and she stopped, once more waiting for him to continue.

He paused, later Hermione wondered if he did this out of fear or because he was aware of the majesty of his statement. He talked slowly stressing every word; "The Dark Lord is evil, Harry Potter is the world's only hope and pureblood superiority is crap and therefore everything I've ever been taught is a lie."

"That's not true." Hermione tried, "What you've learnt at Hogwarts is true and I hope you've learnt something from me over these past years." Draco didn't appreciate Hermione's attempt to lift his spirits but frankly she was getting frustrated with him only acknowledging what most people realised about Voldemort at the age of six.

Surrendering Hermione sighed and stood from the plush sofa. "Draco, I'm wrecked and we should both go to bed. I realise this is a lot to think about and if you don't come to class tomorrow I'll tell them you're sick, okay?"

The smirk was back; "You're willing to break a few rules?"

"You've been through a lot, Draco, get some rest." She started up the staircase to her room for the second time that evening. Once she looked back she could see quite clearly that the smirk was gone, replaced once more with the odd desolation. He stared into the fire and Hermione figured in the morning she'd regret leaving him; she was supposed to be Head-girl and he was clearly suffering a crisis. Silently Hermione summoned a blanket around Draco, even managing to conjure one in Slytherin colours, and Draco looked at her with such surprise that she half expected him to smile.