All characters within this work and the Harry Potter universe are the sole property of J. K. Rowling. By using them below, I am in no way trying to claim them as my own.

'Sometimes I wonder if you two do this deliberately to vex me,' McGonagall said scathingly, firmly avoiding the gaze of the two students in front of her by filing papers in her desk. She let out an exasperated sigh and straightened, folding her hands on her lap. 'How many times have I pulled you in here for practicing inappropriate magic in the corridors? On one another, no less!' She shook her head slightly. 'Five times?'

'Just four, I think,' Harry answered, sullen. McGonagall pursed her lips,

'And are you going to tell me your wand simply had the uncontrollable desire to see Mr. Malfoy as a teapot, Potter?'

'Um...'

'Because it didn't fly when Sirius tried it,' she held up one finger threateningly, 'so it won't fly now.'

'Yes, Professor McGonagall.' Draco, who had stood motionless a firm two feet from Harry, now narrowed his eyes at his obeisance.

'I will not have you two duelling in the corridors any longer. In the hope that this message will finally sink in, we are going to have to be slightly more creative with your punishments.' Harry's eyes widened, and he noticed Draco look equally uncomfortable beside him. 'My decision has had full backing of both Dumbledore, and...' she paused to hold up a hand, silencing Draco's instant protests, 'Professor Snape.' She leant back into the desk chair, surveying their reactions - Harry looked resigned, whilst Draco maintained an aloof pout. 'As you are both so determined to interfere with one another's lives, I believe it's about time you got the full experience.'

'What?' Harry blurted, horrified.

'Potter, you'll find your punishment outside my classroom. You will accompany Professor Snape down to the dungeons, where you will meticulously reorganise and catalogue his potions cupboards. It should only take about a month.' She paused, letting this sink in, then continued, 'You may leave now.' He bowed his head and left, shooting a quick look of hatred to the oblivious Draco. Upon opening the classroom door, he was confronted by a sight he feared - Professor Snape stood tall and brooding, arms crossed, while an uncomfortable-looking Hermione waited in his shadow. McGonagall raised her hand in welcome, gesturing for Hermione to enter.

'Ah, Miss Granger, if you would come in now.' Hermione obeyed, shuffling past Snape and to the end of McGonagall's desk. She cast a wary glance at Draco, and found herself edging sideways to the exact position that Harry had just stood. 'Miss Granger, I have decided to finally take action on your desire for a second features role to be opened up within the school paper.' Hermione smiled shyly, until McGonagall gestured towards Draco. He blinked, uncomprehending.

'But...' He began to protest.

'I have been more than happy with the level of writing in your Transfiguration essays, and have conversed with your other teachers. A sample of this writing is for you, Miss Granger. I'm sure you'll find a place for him.' She reached within a pile of papers on her desk and unearthed a thick scroll of old essays, which she then passed to Hermione. 'Malfoy, you will work in partnership with Miss Granger for a minimum of two articles in the student paper. If you refuse to co-operate, your punishment will instead be extended to two months' work with Hagrid, maintaining the grounds.' Draco didn't look happy, but gave a brisk nod in defeat. 'You might even enjoy it, and stay on at the paper.'

'Fat chance,' he mumbled under his breath. McGonagall's eyes narrowed.

'I think you ought to get started right away, Miss Granger, if you please.' Hermione nodded in a similar manner, her expression betraying the annoyance she felt at being saddled with Malfoy. She turned on her heel and went to exit the classroom, determined to walk at least three paces faster than him. If he can't keep up, she reasoned, then I don't have to deal with him.

He finally caught up with her a hundred yards from the classroom, in a deserted hallway.

'You know, I don't like this any better than you do,' he admitted, moving at a slow jog. Hermione ignored the comment and didn't cease walking until they had both ascended a pair of staircases, and turned at the second-left corridor. She stopped outside of a thick, worm-eaten door, decorated by a tarnished bronze plaque. 'This,' she said pointedly, 'is the office of the Wizarding Student Times, a most prestigious...'

'And boring,' Draco interrupted. Hermione managed to scowl whilst continuing her speech.

'A most prestigious school newspaper, which has been run independently by the students for the past two hundred years. Our efforts on this paper continue a long and well-respected legacy, with a long list of influential alumni having passed through our doors.' Draco rolled his eyes and Hermione took a step forward, placing a finger threateningly under his chin. 'My time as editor of this paper is my key extra-curricular work for future applications to the top wizarding universities. If you, in any way, during your very brief stop at this paper ruin my efforts and tarnish this legacy, just you watch Malfoy. I'll finish Harry's work.' Draco smirked, as if this were some great sport.

'I heard you finish his homework and... other things, already.' The comment was laced with innuendo, and Hermione's attempt at bad girl faltered. She let the façade slip and turned her back on him to unlock the door. It swung open with a heavy, promising creak, and if Hermione had turned back she would have noticed the curiosity on Draco's face. The room revealed only darkness. Hermione fumbled in her robes for a wand, and jumped at the whispered 'Lumos,' by her ear. A small ball of swirling green and blue light buzzed past her ear to the centre of the room, where it pulsed to almost ten times the size, lighting the entire space. Revealed were three dusty desks, with cobwebs stretching between stacks of books, old candles and scrolls. An unidentified ghost sat at one of these desks, distinctly snoozing with a ghostly newspaper covering their face. The fourth desk, pushed against the wall, was the only clean and orderly one of the lot. A neat stack of books sat on one corner, decreasing in size to a leather edition no more than an inch wide. A combination of photos, magical and not, were affixed to the adjacent wall. Draco sneered at seeing a grinning Harry and Ron fly across a ramshackle garden, and walked further into the room to investigate the others. He tugged at one non-magical photo, which showed a static Hermione atop a four-wheeled metal contraption.

'What's this?' He asked, distaste tinged by a hint of curiosity. Hermione propped open the door with a cracked cauldron, then took a few steps forward to look over Draco's shoulder.

'Oh, that's when I learnt to ride a bike.'

'A bike,' Draco repeated, the word strange in his mouth.

'They usually just have two wheels,' Hermione shrugged, 'the other two are only temporary until you learn to balance. It's a way to get around places.' Draco dropped the picture onto the desk, shaking his head.

'For muggles, maybe.' Hermione's scowl returned.

'Yes, well, those "silly" muggles are your first assignment.'

'What?'

'You can write the ten facts piece, for page four. We're tying it in with the Muggle Studies exam next month, while student interest has peaked.'

'... No, seriously. What?' She folded her arms, determined to not bend with her decision.

'Our muggle research materials were a little lacking, so I brought in some extra from home. There's a whole box of magazines and books for you to peruse and find your facts.'

'Not necessary,' Draco leant on the edge of Hermione's desk, looking almost smug.

'Not necessary?' Hermione repeated in disbelief.

'I could write it with my eyes closed.'

'Oh, really?'

'Yeah. Fact one: muggles are a crude species, who without magic scrape by a pathetic existence riding on bikes...' Hermione felt a bubble of anger rise up in her chest. 'And... ah...' the smug grin began to falter, as he racked his brains for another fact. Triumph came seconds later: 'and eating beans.' The bubble burst, and Hermione found herself laughing, while the aloof Draco appeared horrified that his words had inflicted mirth and not pain.

'You have a lot of reading to do, Malfoy. The box is there,' she pointed to a dog-eared cardboard box under her desk, marked 'Granger Dental Practice'. 'Take what you need and then leave. I want the article either handed to me or on my desk before the next meeting, which is 7 pm, Friday. Make sure you show up to the meeting.'

'Or what?' He sneered.

'Or I'll make sure that Hagrid has you cleaning out the thestrals. Just think, Malfoy, if you can't see them... what else can't you see?' Hermione smiled, and Draco was taken aback by the sudden excitement which rose in his abdomen in response. She leant closer to him, removing a quill from her desk, then turned on her heel to leave. He sat there longer, savouring the scent left behind without realising - a combination of old books and spearmint toothpaste. A snore from the resident ghost quickly snapped him out of the thought, and horrified he brushed down his robes, trying to remove the memory