A/N: You guys are seriously so freaking amazing! It feels like Christmas.

furface294: I didn't know what Merde meant... now I can swear near people without them knowing. So... thank you? Plus I don't know about a back-up... did I say that?

Anne: I thought it was a little too fast, maybe it's just me. Aha, I promise I'll work harder.

stardustgirl24: I think I have a new best friend. Your seriously very very very awesome. Not exaggerating.

The-artistic-bookworm: Here ya go! Hope you like this one!

Gallee: Thank you! :)

Kris Ivashkov25: Will do!

ZutaraFanFE: Why thank you!

KitsukeHikari: Of course! That's super duper kind of you!

Dear vvhpfan,

You actually just made my day there. Thank you! I had no idea what to fill the rest of this chapter with. I put Ron down at the end. I'll mix in some of Ginny and Harry in the next chapter I think. I think Ginny is going to be really important to Hermione too. I always like Hermione having someone to confide in. You are a genius reviewer. I love how you told me what you wanted to see. I'm honoured to be your first reviewed author.

-Peppermint Soap

Everybody longs for their other half. Their, as so commonly called, soul mate. The person who makes them happiest, and can also somehow make them the saddest. Plenty of people may assume a certain person is their perfect partner and are wrong. Because after all, when you assume you make an ass out of you and me.

A young, twenty year old woman ran recklessly down the hall, drops of water running smoothly down her flawless face. Her heels clicked on the black marble flooring, echoing off the rounded black ceiling. The back of her closed eyelids replayed the scene in front of her as though it was a romantic drama film.

She walked quietly down the dark halls of the Ministry. She had a cream coloured portfolio tucked between her arm and the side of her body. It's Label read: Head of Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures: Hermione Granger.

The womans long legs carried her swiftly towards a shortcut back to her office.

She stopped short at the sound of moaning floating down the corridor. Past Head Girl instincts kicking in, she started toward an old broom closet the squib janitors use after everyone has gone home. Not suspecting anyone to be in it, she swung the door open quickly.

She was met with rusty old buckets and brooms laying askew. Closing the door softly, she followed the intimate sounds. She came to a small nook to the side of the hall. Trusting her instincts, she wordlessly lit her wand. She took slow careful steps, the sounds getting louder.

"Ella, Ella." The woman froze in her tracks. She knew that voice anywhere. She came home to it everyday, she heard it cheer as it's professional Quidditch team got points. And now she heard it snog another woman.

"Ron, I have to get back to work. Draco's going to start looking for me." A smooth velvety voice floated past the woman, who stood as though she'd been petrified. A sudden rage came over the petite female as she marched quickly deeper into the tight path. The voices stopped as her brightened wand came closer to them.

She marched straight up to the fiery haired man, lowering her wand so they were able to see whom it was that had caught them red-handed. With a quick flourish of her hand, and a loud crack echoing though the halls, the man was forsaken with a red hand-shaped mark upon his left cheek.

"Hermione? Hermione!"

The woman, Hermione apparently, opened her eyes in fear of the scene returning to discourse again. She stopped suddenly, and looked down the long quiet hall to the hustle and bustle of the Ministry. And she was reminded of her work, her duties as head of her department. For this particular woman was not one to let anything get in the way of her loyalty and diligence. Not even a large emotional crisis such as this.

In fact, she would much rather dive into a pile of work than be reminded of the unfortunate occurrence she had just come across. So she pondered over the choices she had. One, sit here and cry over everything that had just been torn into shreds. Two, walk out into the hall for everyone to see and cry over everything that had just been torn to shreds. Or three, compose herself and plunge into piles of paper work as though nothing is wrong, then when she get home, cry herself to sleep over everything that had just been torn to shreds.

Being the pride filled workaholic she is, Hermione wiped her face free of the tears, lifted her chin and chose option three; she prepared herself to walk into the busy hall as if nothing was wrong. She looked behind her at the dark hallway. It was fascinating how one silly little stunt could change someones life. She pondered this as she made her way back to her office, trying to keep her mind from straying to... that topic. Which turned out to be unnaturally hard for her.

She delicately closed her black office door and turned stiffly to her desk. Her legs felt like boards. She sat in the large chair and opened the portfolio she had forgotten she'd been holding.

As hard as she tried to keep it together, wet spots splashed onto the paper under her. She was reminded of a scene from one of her favoured muggle films 'Matilda' as though she was the poor young girl crying over her library book.

As soon as she had let the tears flow freely, knowing no one would come in at such a slow end of the week, there was an ironic knock at the door.

She clumsily transfigured an old parchment into a tissue and quickly dabbed her face, trying to rid herself of any evidence to show she'd been crying. When all was well and under control, she took a breath and said a hoarse, "Come in."

She coughed, trying to bring her voice back to normal, as a tall male stepped into the room.

"Well, Granger. Your little office space is quite sumptuous. Nothing compared to mine, but still quite humble I suppose." The man's blond head looked around the room. He held a pile of papers in his arm. Now, what's his name again?

"What do you need Malfoy?" Hermione's usually sweet voice cracked. Her department was right next to the snide man's in front of her.

Ah! Yes, it's Draco Malfoy, head of the Foreign Affairs and Sports Department. He would often come wandering into her small room, taunting her about how she had no room to work and how he had ten times the square footage that she had. Yet now that she'd been promoted to head of her department and to a larger office space, he didn't have much to say about the matter.

"I came in here," he walked forward until he was right up against her desk. Holding his arms out like they were wood boards, the thick pile of papers resting on his upturned hands, he went on, "to deliver these papers to you." He swiftly slid his pale hands out from under the stack and watched them fall heavily onto her desk, blowing all the other parchment onto the floor.

"You couldn't just set them on my desk could you Malfoy?" She huffed, her emotions coming close to breaking through her cool stature.

"Well what would be the fun in that? I find joy in the knowledge that I infuriate you to no end. I've made it one of my hobbies in fact." Draco smiled smugly at her silence.

Without warning, the floodgates opened and the brunette's eyes were filled with tears. The man stood in shock-induced silence as she cradled her head in her hands, weeping softly at what the blond thought were his words. His brows furrowed as he looked at her quizzically.

"Merlin Granger, I was joking..." He started to back out of the room quietly.

"It- it was Ron." She stared up at him. There was no anger or frustration left in the amber-brown eyes. The golden flecks were full of hurt and truth.

As much as it intrigued the young man to see two of his three childhood rivals get into a fight, he couldn't bear to see a woman cry. He rudely turned and walked in the opposite direction of the obviously dishevelled woman behind the desk.

"I- I saw him- he was snogging your- your girlfriend." She let her head drop to the varnished wood her elbows rested on, her shoulders shaking silently. The man stopped halfway through sneaking out the door.

"Pardon?" He turned his head from the empty department out the door, to the forlorn woman shaking at the desk.

"He was sn-snogging Sorella." The truth behind her muffled voice seemed to suffocate the youngest Malfoy. He turned to look at her. There was only one way the know-it-all girl could be wrong.

"How do you know I'm dating Sorella?" He moved his head to the corner of the room, keeping his eyes resting on the clearly heart-broken girl.

She scoffed, the tears glistening on her smooth skin. "Malfoy, it's all over the Daily Prophet. The Malfoy Heir and Italian Supermodel Love Story, Draco Malfoy has Finally Found Love in Sorella DeMale, Could Playboy Draco Malfoy Settle With Italian Star Sorella DeMale? Everybody knows." She said mockingly. "She even said, 'Ron, I have to get back. Draco's going to start looking for me.' And Ron kept- he kept calling her-" She burst into a new spout of tears.

She forgot where she was, who she was talking to, what she had planned to do. She wanted so hard to hold it all in, to not fall apart in front of her childhood enemy. He'd probably end up laughing in her face. But she couldn't stop herself from breaking down. Everything she had for three years and had hoped for since she was sixteen, was now completely torn apart. Her best friend of nine years had broken her heart once too many times. She was done. She couldn't let him tear her apart like this. Yet as many times as she mentally repeated the supposedly relaxing mantra, she couldn't stop the tears.

"That fucking bitch." Draco whispered fiercely. He ran a hand through his platinum blond hair. "Damn it!" He shouted angrily. He stared daggers at the dark hardwood flooring. "The Weasel is dead." The words came out as though he just declared what curtain went best with the wall paint. He calmly raised his head and stared the girl in the eyes before turning abruptly to go.

"Malfoy don't!" Hermione stood and pointed her wand at the door, forcing it closed with a silent, Colloportus.

He turned back towards her, looking unimpressed. At least she bought herself some time. "You know I can just use Alohomora to open that again." He started to swish his wand for the incantation, when Hermione spoke, standing from her desk and walking around to the determined man.

"As much as I would like you to beat him to less than a pulp; I can't let you. I- I-"

"Granger he just snogged another woman! While he was in a relationship with you. I'm getting my reve-"

"I already slapped him?" She said hopefully, wishing he would think it was enough.

"Seriously?"

"Fine! You can have your stupid revenge. Just no physical violence." She paused. "Well, not too much."

"Then what do you suppose we do for retaliation?" the blond raised his right eyebrow.

"I don't know... I was kind of hoping you and your inner Slytherin could..." She fumbled for words. Hermione Granger was never one to be caught speechless.

"My 'inner Slytherin' hm?" Draco smirked at the red cheeked woman in front of him. "Well, I actually had something in mind. Not that I'm in favour of it myself, being such the high and mighty heir of the glorious Malfoy name." He stuck his nose into the air, looking at his nails as if he were royalty.

"God Ferret, even in a time like this you decide to flaunt your aristocracy." She rolled her eyes, her arms crossed in front of her. "Just tell me your idea." Her eyebrows raised.

"Say it."

"What?" She leaned her head in closer, as if she was straining to hear him.

"Say: Draco, you are the high and mighty heir of the glorious Malfoy name. You are a total heart throb. If only every guy could be like you." He smirked at her, challenging her robust Gryffindor ego with her need to avenge.

"Why in Merlin's saggy pants would I ever say that?!" Hermione stared at him as though he'd grown seven more heads and named them after the Weasley children.

"Because you want to hear my idea." He smiled egotistically.

"Honestly, I don't think your ego needs to grow any larger. I hardly have any space with it in the room right now." She answered smartly. She could tell it hit him when his smile faltered for a split second before reappearing to cover his face with a cool mask of superiority.

For now Hermione had just about completely forgotten about Ron's betrayal and how unfaithful he was. Her bantering with Draco had taken away the startling sting of the news. At least, that's all she thought it was.

"Fine. But I'm only going to say it to get what I want. For the record, this is a total lie and I would admit anyone who says this truthfully to St. Mungo's without a second thought." She took a deep breath. Malfoy, you are..." He raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"You didn't say it right."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Do. It."

"Argh! Draco," She emphasized. "you are the high and- and mighty heir of the glorious Malfoy name." She cringed at what she was saying. "You are a to- total h- h- heart throb." She looked as though she just drank sour milk, before whispering. "I think I'm going to vomit..." With a large swallow she continued. "If only every guy could be like- like you." She let out her breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

"Why thank you." He gave her a childish grin. "That would sound a lot nicer if you hadn't thought the same of W- Never mind." He changed the subject before he could see her cry again. It was, after all, his Kryptonite. "So about the plan. I was thinking, that to really get back at them..." He checked her curious face to look for any signs of pre-anger. Nope, good to go.

"Well..." If he waited any longer she would lose her eyebrows in her hair.

"I think their both pretty choleric- actually I know they are. So something as simple as pretending to date could make them pretty angry. Pretend that we were going to dump in the firs-"

"What!" Hermione almost jumped out of her skin. "If you think that I am going to date-"

"You did say that I was a total heart throb and wished that every guy could be like me-"

"Because you made me say it!"

"You did have a choice-"

"Not really! I wanted to hear you idea!"

"And you did!"

"And it's terrible."

"Do you have a better one?"

Hermione stopped shouting at the logical man in front of her. She stared up at him, her mouth hanging open as if she was catching flies. They had somehow gotten closer to each other in the span of their conversation. He seemed to stand at least a head taller than her, rivalling Ron's height.

"Fine. I don't. Only because I'm such a lenient person and would never generate such calamitous notions."

"Right, even though you thought up how to slip into the depths of a school, to get some measly stone. Found a way to stop some freak snake into killing everyone while you were petrified by the nasty thing itself. You saved a deathly convict from escaping the Dementors Kiss. Helped that rabid gigantic bird-horse thing-"

"Hippogriff."

"-from being decapitated. Walked Scarhead through all of his little stunts in that stupid tournament. Made a secret club with half of the school behind that gargoyle Umbridge's back. Ambushed your way into the Department of Mysteries. Fought tons of Death Eaters. You um..." He paused, not wanting to think about the sixth year. "Escaped Cormac McLaggen, the bloody creep. And then completely took down Voldemort.

"So don't you dare tell me you don't think up such wayward, perilous plans." He smirked at her.

"Sounds like someone has a little crush." She mumbled.

"I heard that."

"I wasn't exactly whispering." She looked down. "I don't know Malfoy. We'll be miserable the entire time." She sighed, looking at the wall to her right. "What about our friends? They would never understand. I don't think Ginny or Harry would take to this very well."

"Come on Granger! They'll understand if the blasted Weasel cheated on you. Live a little! If their really good friends they'll support you. Merlin, I sound like a Hufflepuff." He looked at though he ate very expired cheese.

Hermione inhaled and exhaled deeply. She rolled her shoulders back and stared up at Draco.

"Fine. I'll do it. But on certain conditions." She listed off her fingers. "We have to refrain from being mean to each other," she paused to think, "in public. Be nice to Harry and Ginny." Draco scowled. "We need to act as though them cheating on us doesn't matter. And as much as I hate to say it, we have to show some public displays of affection."

Draco stuttered at the demand.

The feisty brunette looked at him as if he was a student daring to step out of line. He immediately quieted.

"If we want to seem like a real couple and be able to pull this off, we have to do things a real couple does." She started to pace the room. "Hold hands, talk nicely, laugh, walk close to each other, and kiss."

She almost laughed when his face gained a mortified expression. Instead she smiled lightly. She could feel herself losing control again, thinking about why they were about to do this. Still looking up at him, her eyes began welling with unshed tears. She looked away quickly, roughly brushing the tears away from her eyes with her sleeve.

Before she could do anything else, a strong pair of arms stiffly slipped around her. They seemed as if they didn't know how to comfort someone, as if the person had never done a comforting, sentimental thing in their life.

She latched onto the blue collard shirt in front of her that smelt so much like expensive cologne, mint, and cut grass. A mixture that would've been terrible anywhere but here. Hermione didn't think she could let go.

The arms soon loosened and began to rub circles onto Hermione's light pink blouse.

"I agree." A voice whispered throughout the room. "I agree to all the conditions. Just don't cry again. I hate it. Seriously."

Ronald Weasley stood straight as a pole when he saw a small light at the end of the secluded hall. He pulled the Italian woman closer to him- if that was even possible. They stared as the bobbing light came nearer.

Soon they could see a small silhouette behind a lit wand. As the light was lowered, the red head could make out some of the delicate features of the person in front of them. The messy brown hair, dark amber eyes, the button nose and the soft pink lips.

Before he could register what was happening, an angry crack echoed through the dark corridor. His cheek felt numb before needles started to prick it.

"Hermione? Hermione!" He let go of the woman in front of him, pushing her back slightly. He took several steps toward where the war hero had fled but gave up when he realized he had no good explanation for her.

"Who was that?" Sorella DeMale stared at the tall man staring into space. She walked forward, her red stiletto's clapping on the polish ground. She moved like a princess, her feet moving perfectly in front of each other. It was every females dream to look like her, move like her, act like her.

Her tanned calves were strong and defined, her stomach was slim and fit, her arms muscular yet not incredibly so. Her stainless white business dress hugged her curves. Her eyes were a dark sparkling green, catching the light and giving them a youthful look.

She stood beside the silent man. They had been going behind their significant others back for quite some time now, about six months? They had already been as far as any serious couple has.

"Hermione. Hermione Granger." Ron said quietly. He looked down to the beautiful woman on his arm. "She was my girlfriend." He paused.

"Look, I'm going to go. I'll see you later Ella." He said solemnly. He brushed past her and walked the opposite way that Hermione had gone. He walked slowly, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

His chest felt like it was filled with bricks. A cloud of guilt hung around his head, the reality of what he did finally coming to kick him in the arse. He looked back to the way Hermione had gone, seeing a hall filled with people trying to get places.

He screwed it up. He screwed everything up. All because of some stupid decision. Because he got a rise out of it. He screwed everything up.

Somehow Ron found himself walking the path he knew like the back of his hand. Hermione's new office was down the next hall to the left and the seventh door on the right. As he came nearer to the door he heard two voices floating down the corridor.

He followed it to the exact door he was hoping to find Hermione in.

"-each other, and kiss."

He could hear someone faintly scoff at what the brunette said.

Her laugh rang softly through the room. Ron's heart felt as though someone had taken it, squeezed it, yanked on it and proceeded to wring it out.

Before he could hear those eight important words Ron shook his head in sorrow, walking quickly away from the partially open door.

I agree. I agree to all the conditions.