A/N: Wow, okay. So I figured here would be a good place to put an authors note. Seriously, I started this in November of 2010. I was in my senior year of high school then. Now it's six years, later and I have left University, gotten my first apartment, met the love of my life and am on my way to China to be an Au Pair. I can honestly say that this fic has been neglected because of all of the things going on in my life, but that would only be half of the story. In the past six years, I have taken the time to work on my craft, to hone my skills and to try and bring you all a much better story - one that I think you all deserve. This site is where I got my start as a writer and I come here when I need a reminder of the magic (pun very much intended) that started it all.

The revisions for this fic have taken me a little over two weeks to do as I was fairly satisfied with much of what I had already written. Originally, this was going to be a story rife with drama, angst and romance, but I decided to nix that and go with a more lighthearted story. It will still have moments of drama and action, but for the most part, it will be just a series of awkward encounters between Draco and Hermione, and how they deal with their rapidly changing opinions of each other. I hope that you enjoy what I have worked on, and do sincerely thank you for taking the time to read it :)

Disclaimer: As much as I wish I did, I own nothing Harry Potter.

The sky darkened slightly as a cloud slowly drifted over the sun. The leaves shook with the light breeze, a relaxing applause of wind through the tree. There were many people milling about; some were talking in loud voices in large groups, others looked as if they were hurrying somewhere. No one noticed the girl sitting alone under the tree, her head leaned back against the large trunk and her eyes closed in a serenity one could only get from sleeping undisturbed in nature. Her breath was at ease, and she was very still, save for the rise and fall of her chest with each breath. No one noticed except for one.

"Granger."

The blond haired boy had spotted her sitting under the tree the moment he stepped outside. Her large, unruly hair was a familiar sight, and had it not been for her nap, he was certain he would be able to find her by her loud, know-it-all mouth.

"Granger," he said again as he nudged his foot against her bag. She didn't stir a tiny bit, and he frowned. This time he nudged the girl with his foot, and didn't mind it if he left a slight dust print on her pristine robe. Her head rolled forward and flopped onto the knees which were brought up to her chest.

"Granger, if you don't get up right now, you'll be late for Muggle Studies." He grinned, knowing that this would jolt her right out of sleep. He wasn't wrong- as soon as the last syllable of 'studies' left his lips, she bolted upright, her eyes wide with fright. She unconsciously pushed him out of her way as she grabbed her bag and stood up with the quickness of fugitive from the law. It wasn't until she was halfway back to the castle did she realize that she was not late- for classes had already ended for the day- and she had been tricked from her comfortable spot under the tree. Spinning on her heel, she marched back to the tree.

"What exactly do you call that, Draco Malfoy?" she spat, glaring at her adversary. She was known to have an icy-cold glare notorious for freezing even the most courageous of the Gryffindors. She had dropped her bag near her feet, and placed her hands on her hips, the pose that would tell anyone that knew her well that she meant business.

"Whatever do you mean?" Draco asked her, a belligerent grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. He was still on the ground where she had pushed him just moments before, and he even looked casual in the way that he rested there.

"You know, Malfoy, sometimes you really get on my nerves. I want to believe you treat everyone this way, but I think I'd just be lying to myself," she said, still glaring and shaking her head in disbelief. "I think you just like to screw with people, you know? You just like to worm your way into their heads like the vile, little snake you are and just play around with their minds." He stood up and faced her, glaring just as fiercely back.

"You raise an interesting point; however, it really is just you and your little buddies Potty and Weasel." He retorted, the belligerent smirk growing into a sadistic smile. "With Potty and Weasel, at least they bother to keep themselves presentable. You on the other hand… You really should get some help in looking more like a girl." He said it with such nonchalance that upon hearing the words, she turned bright red.

"Just go burn in hell, Malfoy," Hermione said, her voice dripping with venom. She picked up her bag and began to walk away, wanting to get as far away from him as possible.

Draco Malfoy always seemed to leave her with a bad taste in her mouth, and she hated even thinking that he bothered her. She seriously couldn't believe that a person would randomly just pick an argument with someone and be so rude, but there he always happened to be. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about him; he went to this school just as she did, and it would be impossible not to encounter him at some point. It also didn't help that he was the second most intelligent student in Hogwarts and a prefect. It meant that their encounters were not uncommon, and, in some cases- though she would have liked to in all- she couldn't berate and scold him for just being a prick.

On the other hand, Draco Malfoy thought that Hermione Granger absolutely worthy of his hate. She was intelligent, and though he hated to admit it, she was better at virtually everything that he did. Not to mention, she hung out with the-Boy-Who-Lived-to-Annoy-Him and his sidekick, Wonder Weasel. It was a pity; if she had been born a pureblood, she would have made a wonderful ally if only just for her biting tongue and ability to match him in wits.

Draco scoffed to himself- that girl was so stubborn, even if she was pureblood, she wouldn't look twice at him. And that was something he didn't have a problem with.

"Hey, Mione, can you pass the potatoes?"

"What exactly happened again, Hermione?"

"I think you should totally kick his…uh…his butt. Yeah, kick his, uh, butt."

Hermione shook her head; her friends could be so ridiculous sometimes. After hearing their response to the day's happenings, she was starting to regret telling them that she had had an encounter with Malfoy. Usually, she would be up for the scoffs and stabs at Malfoy, yet today, she was feeling kind of tired, and for once, she was not looking forward to studying. She pushed her plate away and stood up, grabbing her bag from its place on the floor behind her.

"What's wrong?" one of her best friends, Harry Potter asked her. He looked a bit concerned, but it was nothing to worry about- he always looked concerned.

"Nothing," she lied, giving him a wide smile. "I am just a bit tired, so I am going to go take a nap." She shouldered her bag and began to walk away when she felt someone grab her hand.

"Hey," she turned to see her other best friend, Ron Weasley looking at her intently. "You'll tell us if something's up, right?" She nodded and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Don't worry guys," she forced a smile. "I promise I am okay, and if there is anything wrong I will tell you immediately." She let go of Ron's hand and began making her way back to the dorm.

As she walked, she took a deep breath. She had been thrown off earlier when her sleep was interrupted by Malfoy, and it had affected the rest of her day.

"Stupid prat," she mumbled under her breath shaking her head. She didn't like the fact the he intruded, but all she could do at this point is go back to her room and finish the nap. Hopefully, he wouldn't come barging into their shared living area and destroy her regained peace.

Soon enough she reached the portrait entrance to the tower she shared with Malfoy, the other prefects and the Head Boy and Girl. She liked the living arrangement. Usually, she wasn't a person to hide from her problems, but she was happy that having the other perfects and the Head Boy and Girl there as a buffer between her and her enemy. It was nice to have an escape plan should she ever need one.

She admired the portrait for a moment before giving the password and stepping inside. It was empty, just as she expected, and she smiled a little to herself; finally some peace and quiet. She suspected no one would be around for a while; she'd left dinner not even 15 minutes after it had started, and she was sure that no one else would leave unless they had to.

She placed her bag next to the couch and lowered herself gingerly, shivering as the warm fabric of the couch met with her rather cold skin. Closing her eyes in satisfaction, she curled up into a ball and let her breathing slow. Sleep was not far behind, and within minutes, she was peacefully dreaming.

Draco was angry. He had not been at the dinner table for five minutes when he could hear the rumblings and grumblings of the Gryffindor table. He was slightly flattered that they were talking about him, of course, but it was with contempt and disgust – something he should have been used to. And it was all that Grangers fault.

He watched the table with a hawk like gaze, waiting for her too look his way so that he could show her just how angry he was. Unfortunately for him, she had other ideas, and was on her way out of the Great Hall. He scowled, alerting his friend Blaise Zabini to his distress.

"What is it, mate?" Blaise questioned, giving Draco a confused look. Despite common misconception, Blaise was a category all to his own in the sense that he didn't care what anyone – not even his own parents – thought of him. He genuinely cared for his friends, and his best friend (though Draco was reluctant to admit it) worried him the most.

"That hag–" he pointed his fork quite rudely in her direction– "Is the bane of my existence." He violently stabbed the ham that had only moments before been sitting peacefully on his plate. "I'm losing my appetite just thinking about her." He sighed in exasperation. Blaise smirked; it was only Hermione that was bothering his friend.

Blaise was privy to the thoughts of Draco Malfoy. He was only one of two people who could read him like a book, and to his delight, Draco didn't know it. Blaise knew that his friend wasn't everything people made him out to be and he knew that with a little nudge, Draco could shock the world with his surprisingly un-Malfoy behavior. He knew that the only reason Hermione annoyed Draco in the way that only she could, was because Draco allowed her to. It wasn't a very easy thing to explain – after all, this was Draco Malfoy – but he knew that Draco's bad boy façade would only last so much longer.

Blaise nodded his head in sympathy, uttering only a sympathetic "Hmm," in reply. It was enough for Draco; all he needed was to vent.

"She is going to take over my life, Blaise," Draco whined, his resolve breaking. He didn't realize the double-entendre of his words, but Blaise smirked to himself.

"I think your exaggerating, Drake," he said, patting his friend sympathetically on the back. "I'm sure that you will live through it."

"Whatever man," Draco said, rising. He was tired, and needed a nap. "I'll see you around. I'm going to take a nap." He grabbed his bag, and headed out of the Great Hall. His common room would be empty; Hermione had probably gone to the library (as usual), and everyone else was still at dinner.

He chuckled lightly to himself; that girl was far too predictable. Though today had surprised him – he wasn't expecting to find her napping, much less under a tree in the middle of the campus. He shook his head. Whatever, he thought. She can do whatever she likes. It's no concern of mine.

He made it to the common room quickly and was about spread out on his favorite couch, when he noticed something – rather, someone – in it. He rolled his eyes and sighed. Sleeping peacefully in the middle of the couch was Hermione Granger.

He didn't even bother himself with waking her; it would be too much of a hassle for him. Grabbing his bag once more, he trudged into his room and flopped down on the four poster bed, closing his eyes in fatigue.

"WHY!" he shouted into his pillow as he rolled over. "WHY DOES SHE HAVE TO BE EVERYWHERE!?" He didn't like it, not one bit. It was bad enough that he had to endure everyday knowing that she was better at him in almost everything, but to top it all off, she seemed to intrude in on his life when he least wanted her too.

"God, I hate you Hermione Granger." He was whining only to himself, he knew, but that's how much this girl annoyed him. "I hate you so much." He laughed wryly to himself before settling into a comfortable position on his bed. He was too tired to undress, and the last thing he wanted to do was get up from his comfortable bed.

"Stupid girl," he mumbled to himself as sleep took hold. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"