Author's Note: This is the one, you guys. I have high hopes for this story.

10th September, 1996

It was the second week of term. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and Hermione had woken up to find a massive, bulbous pimple between her eyebrows. There was no better way to start her sixth year of school, of course.

Harry and Ginny pretended not to notice at breakfast, but Ron wasn't as tactful.

Ginny kicked him under the table as he snorted with laughter.

"Bloody f — I didn't even say anything!" Ron protested, clapping a hand over his tibia.

"You were about to," his sister said, flashing him a look of warning before glancing at Hermione. "I'm sure I still have that sample of Ten-Second Pimple Vanisher lying around if you want it."

"Is it that bad?" Hermione asked, cheeks burning as she adjusted her fringe for the dozenth time that morning.

Ginny hesitated. "No … not really …"

Ron popped his head into the conversation. "It doesn't resemble Planet Mars at all," he offered, a burst of pain in his eyes as Ginny kicked him again. "God sakes! What have you been eating?"

"Enough to kick your arse without breaking a sweat," Ginny retorted, her attention falling briefly on Harry as he laughed at Ron's expense. Their eyes locked for a hot second, before they quickly glanced away.

Hermione caught it, as did Ginny's boyfriend, Dean Thomas, apparently. Though he was too nice to utter a word of it, everyone knew he was at least a little suspicious of Harry and Ginny's bond. They were friends, Quidditch teammates, and housemates for at least three weeks every summer; enough to drive any boyfriend mad with jealousy. Hermione had to give him credit for keeping a cool head, though. She was almost certain any other boy in school would have lost his absolute mind by that point. Harry was tough competition.

"Anyway …" Ginny tucked a strand of fiery red hair behind her ear and looked to Hermione. "I don't have the pimple vanisher on me at the moment, but I'm sure I can grab it before the bell."

"I'll come with you," Hermione decided, gathering her books as Ginny led the way. They nodded farewell to the boys and raced through the main doors, hoping to collect the pimple vanisher and head back down in time for their first classes. Naturally, Ginny was a little faster than Hermione, but the latter of the two managed to keep up quite well. That was, of course, until she turned the corner and followed Ginny into the seventh floor corridor, where Gryffindor tower and the Room of Requirement were located, slamming into oncoming traffic. "Oof!" Hermione fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs, robes, and curly hair, as Ginny rushed to help her up.

There was only one other person in the corridor.

"Watch where you're going, Granger!" It was obvious by the pride and venom in his tone, whom she had quite literally run into, but worse than that, was the fact he had seemingly taken notice of the Remembrall that was spellotaped to her forehead. "What in Salazar's name is that?" Malfoy demanded, looking at her as he collected his fallen items from the floor. His face twisted between looks of horror and disgust before the inevitable happened. He burst into a fit of laughter, quickly putting Ron's reaction to shame.

Ginny scowled at him. "Sod off, Malfoy!"

"It's okay," Hermione assured the witch, gathering the last of her things and shrugging her book bag on. "Let's just grab the pimple vanisher and be done with it."

"Oh, believe me, Granger, it's going to take more than pimple vanisher to remove that from your forehead," Malfoy taunted, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. "I had no idea it was even possible for a girl like you to get any uglier, but there you have it!"

"That's rich coming from a walking corpse," Ginny seethed.

Malfoy flicked a look at her. "You should be fined simply for uttering the word rich, Weaselette."

"Oh, and why is that?" she asked. "Because I'm poor? Sing a different tune, ferret."

"Gladly," he uttered. "Weasley is our Queen! Weasley is our Queen! She never says no to a snog! She hops about just like a frog! From bloke to bloke, likes to be choked, shuts her mouth as long as she's poked! Weasley is our Queen! Weasley is our —"

"Silencio!" Hermione shouted, bright, blinding sparks shooting from the pointy end of her wand, wrapping around Malfoy's mouth and bringing his tasteless anthem to a heart-stopping halt. The witch beside her simply stared, looking wide-eyed at Hermione, as she pocketed her wand and stepped closer to Malfoy, jabbing his chest with her finger. "Listen carefully, ferret. If I ever hear those words again, even once … even a whisper of them in passing … I swear to the Founders, I will curse you so deep into oblivion you won't be able to tell your arse from your elbows. Do you understand me?"

Surprisingly, Malfoy didn't fight back. Nor did he lift the spell. He simply stood there, glaring at Hermione as she dragged Ginny away.

"You didn't have to do that," Ginny voiced, following Hermione through the Portrait Hole.

Hermione brushed the wrinkles from her uniform as they continued on, up the stairs and into the fifth year girls dormitories. "We both know it was only a matter of time; especially after what he did to Harry on the train."

"Right, I completely forgot …" Ginny uttered, thinking back to when Harry wandered into the Common Room at the start of term, late for the feast with a bloody nose. "God, he's an absolute nightmare this term, isn't he?"

"Eh," Hermione shrugged. "I wouldn't give him too much credit."

Ginny laughed at that, swinging her trunk open and digging through it, before locating a bottle of Ten-Second Pimple Vanisher. "There you go. One drop should do the trick," she advised, looking to Hermione in a moment of second thought. "Er … maybe two."

It was late; the library was empty save for a group of Ravenclaws near the Dragon Section and a bookish brunette whose friends had long since abandoned her. Given that sixth year coursework was a giant step up from previous years, she had actually managed to convince Harry and Ron to join her in the library for a few hours. Naturally, Ron was first to leave, making up an excuse that involved a few rather large words Hermione suspected he didn't know the meaning of, whilst his best mate stayed behind an extra thirty minutes. To Harry's credit, he at least tried to complete a few assignments, but he eventually followed Ron's lead.

Thus, Hermione scratched her Quill along the parchment laid out in front of her and completed a rough draft of the essay that Professor Babbling had assigned that afternoon. Ancient Runes was far and away Hermione's favourite class. She had always been fascinated with Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics as a child, and Runes were damn similar. The symbols and the different meanings, filled her stomach with joy as she turned the pages of her Runes book, absorbing information and jotting notes down before her Quill ran out of ink. Unbothered, she dipped her Quill into her ink pot only to discover it was empty.

"Damn —" She reached into her book bag for another, praying she wouldn't have to borrow one from the Ravenclaws or Madam Pince. As clever and respectable as the Ravenclaws were, most of them were rather stuck up and rude when they wanted to be; quite similar to Slytherins in that regard. Luna, Padma and Cho were nice enough, but they also weren't in the library that evening.

Really struggling to find an ink pot, she emptied the contents of her book bag onto the table and rummaged through the pile of parchment, books, Quills and … wait, this doesn't belong to me. A curious knot wrapped around her stomach and rendered her motionless as she glanced at the thin, leather-bound journal on the table. It was dark brown, seemingly expensive, and marked with the initials DM on the top righthand corner. She blinked, staring down at those initials as though they were infected with a flesh eating virus of some sort.

One name came to mind.

One name, one slithering smirk, and one memory that kicked her swiftly in the gut.

I bumped into him this morning … our belongings fell … I must have grabbed this by mistake … Hermione realized, genuinely surprised he hadn't cursed the damn thing with some sort muggle-born repellent. She figured he rarely let it out of his sight, which then begged the question: what was it, exactly? It looked like a journal, a diary … but she couldn't be sure. Was it wrong to rifle through someone's personal belongings? Yes, absolutely. Did Malfoy deserve it? Yes, absolutely. Even after what he had done to Harry, she would have felt bad going through his diary, but he had also wrote that horrible song about Ginny, shaming the girl for whatever reason. Sure, Ginny had gone on a few dates with a different boys here and there, but that didn't make her as loose as the lyrics described. Not by a long shot! Malfoy had no right to say those things, and if he was so careless to let his diary slip into Hermione's hands … what choice did she have, really?

It was her duty, as both a friend and a feminist, to open the diary and have a look inside. A quick, borderline nonexistent look, that she wouldn't think twice about later. Surely, there was nothing of particular interest in Malfoy's diary. She imagined he wrote mostly about himself, and how he felt about his blond hair, vomit grey eyes, and nauseating smirk; an ode to ferrets. The thought of it brought a twitch of laughter to her lips, but she resisted the urge to chuckle.

"To hell with it," she decided, letting curiosity get the best of her.

"What's gotten into you?" Theo asked, sauntering into the sixth year Slytherin boys dormitory as Draco rummaged through his own trunk, tossing clothes, books, shoes and other expensive items in every direction. "Blimey, you're not having another episode, are you?"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Draco shouted, snapping a harsh, seething look at his best mate.

Theo backed away, hands up in surrender. "Sorry, sorry … I'll leave you to it."

Draco continued to rummage and toss things about, before he abruptly stopped and tugged at his hair from the roots. A single moment of that, coupled with a few calming breaths, and he looked to Theo. "You haven't seen my diary anywhere, have you?"

The other boy paused, suddenly realizing. "Ah, so that's what this is about."

"Have you seen it or not?" Draco demanded.

"I'm afraid I haven't," Theo let him know. "I'm sure it's around here somewhere. Have you tried summoning it?"

Draco rolled his eyes at that. "Why would I make my diary summonable?" he asked.

Theo thought for a moment. "Good point."

"In any case, it's not here. I've searched every corner of this dormitory and the Common Room."

"Where's the last place you saw it?"

Draco paused to think. "The Manor …?"

"And you're positive you brought it with you to school?" Theo asked.

"Yes."

"Hmm. Maybe someone stole it."

"Impossible," Draco reasoned. "Crabbe and Goyle are too scared to go through my things, Blaise doesn't care enough to lift a finger, and you … well, I trust you."

"How cute," Theo smiled, earning a pained look from his best mate. "Okay, we'll figure this out."

"How?"

Theo paced the dormitory a few times, tapping his chin in thought. "Potter was eavesdropping on us on the train … and I wouldn't put it past him to nick your diary. We already know he suspects you of something."

Draco narrowed his eyes that, pondering the possibility. "No … no, it's not him. There is no way he would have kept quiet for this long if he found my diary. You and I both know what's in it."

"True," Theo realized. "Who else could have taken it?"

"I don't know …" Draco voiced, slumping down onto the foot of his bed, as it finally occurred to him. "Fuck."

"What?"

"FUCK!"

Theo stared wide-eyed at the blond. "What is it?"

"FUUUCK!" Draco punched one of the bed posts and recoiled immediately. "Damn it —"

"Okay, stop hitting things and tell me what the bloody hell just happened," Theo demanded. "Now."

"I know who nicked it," Draco uttered, the pain that shot through his knuckles suddenly numbed by the horrifying realization.

Theo looked to him, waiting. "Well, who?!"

"The only person in the school with a shot at translating it."

Hermione stared at the symbols, sucking on the feathery end of her Quill as she thought long and hard about how impressive it was that Malfoy had coded his diary in his own runic script. He may have been a right git, but was also quite clever … more so than Harry and Ron.

Any normal person would have mistaken the symbols as pointless imagery, but they were laid out in such a way, that she knew within one glance, what she was looking at.

She tossed a look at the time on her wristwatch. It was an hour to curfew. She knew she couldn't take the diary inside the Common Room; not out in the open, where her friends would see it and ask questions. She would have to decode it in the library, away from prying eyes

Ironic as it was, the fact that Malfoy had coded his diary in runic script, had not only ensured the fact that Hermione would read every word, but also lit a fire under her know-it-all arse to do it quickly.

Again, any normal person would have shied away from the challenge, but she wasn't normal.

"I'm far from normal!" Hermione gleefully exclaimed, earning the attention of the Ravenclaws, followed by a collective snicker amongst their table group. She shrunk in her seat, embarrassed but still excited. "Ten points to Gryffindor … woo …"

And with that, she went to work.

Author's Note: Okay, before anyone asks ... Yes, this takes place in their sixth year, when Draco is recruited to be a Death Eater and Harry discovers the Half-Blood Prince. All of that will be going on in the background. I will try my best to stay true to the chronological order of events in the book, but some liberties will be taken. It's unavoidable with most fan fiction, unfortunately. That said, I look forward to sharing the rest of the story with all of you. It's going to be a long, topsy-turvy one, for sure. In a good way, of course!

I left a few easter eggs in this first chapter, most of which won't come to fruition until much later in the story, but I'd be happy to hear any theories if you have them!