What a pleasant surprise to see so many alerts and more than one review on my first chapter! Thank you guys for the lovely reviews, I appreciate them very much. For this chapter I would like to note that the italics passage is a flashback. Any italics elsewhere are usually thoughts. If there's any confusion feel free to ask and I will gladly explain. Also, in this story Blaise Zabini is Draco's best friend (can't remember if that's AU or not at this point in the timeline). Ok, well, please read, review and enjoy!

I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's work, solely the plot to this story.

Silvery, blond hair fell before now bluish grey eyes. And despite the bloody mess on his pale face, there was no mistaking the exultant sneer that spoke volumes more, leering and dangerous, like a cat seducing its prey.

"Surprised?" he asked in a menacing tone, no trace of the hypnotizing, velvet voice that had whispered in her ear.

Hermione found herself speechless, absentmindedly feeling where his lips had touched hers. How could—why would—where is my—Malfoy?

There was no time for a response, however. Ginny had already grabbed hold of her hand and dragged her away towards Gryffindor Tower. Somewhere behind her she heard Snape and McGonagall scolding the two boys, though none of the words really registered. She was still too shocked. But then something else clicked.

"Oh! Wait, the party. I have to—"

"Don't worry about your Head Girl duties. And besides, the party's over."

The party's over? So soon?

Hermione stopped trying to wriggle away, her shoulders slumping in defeat as they reached the portrait entrance. Nonetheless, her expression was blank, eyes widened in what appeared to be silent horror.

"Yunneltoad." Spoke Ginny.

They stepped inside, Ginny handling the other girl as if she were an uncharted mine field, capable of disaster upon the tiniest careless step. She took her up to her one-bedroom suite—a luxury each Head had—and gingerly sat her on the bed. When Hermione only continued to stare, Ginny tentatively asked, "Hermione?"

As if barely conscious the red-haired girl was there, Hermione blinked and looked at her in surprise.

"Ginny?"

"Yes, Hermione, I'm here."

"Oh …" Hermione nodded, though Ginny couldn't guess exactly what she was agreeing to.

Ginny waited whilst the brown-haired girl lapsed into another moment of silence. It was maddening, really, and Ginny was just about to ask another question when—

"Ginny, did I …"

"… Yes."

"And I did it with …"

"… Yes."

"And you and Harry saw …"

"… Yes."

"Does Ron …"

This caught Ginny slightly off guard, though she answered anyway.

"No, not yet."

She watched as Hermione seemed to breathe in a sigh of relief, the first real emotion since Malfoy's unveiling.

"Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Don't tell him."

"But Hermione, he's bound to find out. Harry—"

"Tell Harry not to say anything either."

"What about the Slytherins—"

"They're always making things up. I—"

"Hermione, you're being ridiculous. Word's going to get around. Ron—"

"Please?"

Ginny sighed resignedly.

"Alright."

"Absolutely brilliant! And did you see the look on her face? Priceless!"

Draco looked up to smirk triumphantly at the boy in front of him. Blaise was still congratulating him on his victory, and yet Draco couldn't seem to get as excited about it as he thought he would have been.

"And that kiss!"

"Did anyone else see it?"

Blaise looked slightly taken aback. "Just Pansy and I, but don't worry, we'll spread it across Hogwarts like wildf—"

"Don't."

Blaise stopped celebrating for a second whilst he considered the request. "But it would be a perfect way to humiliate the mudblo—"

"As well as myself," interjected Draco. He wiped at his mouth for the hundredth time. "Sorry, but I've had enough filth for one day. Imagine what they'd say if they knew it was me behind the mask."

Blaise shrugged his shoulders. "Eh, that's fine with me. But anyway, speaking of that kiss, damn! Talk about fireworks. I had you all wrong, you really do know how to work the women, don't you? Geez, for a second there even I thought it was the real deal, if you know what I mean."

At this Draco laughed, and fortunately for him Blaise was too busy marveling in the whole situation to notice the nervous tremor that accompanied the blond's usual malice.

Because despite his win Draco couldn't figure out why he'd actually kissed the damn girl. True, it did make for a secure hold—considering I'm such a good kisser—but it hadn't even been part of the agreement …

Draco rolled his eyes as the pug-faced girl giggled and squealed beside him. He could never understand why people as unattractive as Pansy Parkinson were deemed worthy of Slytherin House. But he supposed better someone ugly and pure blood than an attractive mudblood, though it did seem highly inconvenient.

"Draco, are you listening?"

Draco turned a lazy expression towards his best friend. "I am and you already know what I'm going to say."

Blaise quirked an eyebrow in response. "Oh?"

Draco sighed dramatically before drawling, "Pansy, darling, care to explain?"

Pansy looked more than eager to oblige. "Of course, Draco." She turned towards Blaise and in a very matter of fact tone: "Draco could have any girl he wants. He's rich, powerful, extremely good-looking, charming—"

Blaise burst out laughing. Both Draco and Pansy looked at him in annoyance. Blaise managed to choke out between laughs. "Draco Malfoy? Ch-charming?"

Which was followed by another set of howls.

Draco didn't look amused. "I can be quite charming when I wish, you know—"

"He can! I can vouch for that. Remember, Draco, when you took me to—"

"Pansy, don't interrupt me."

She looked down ashamedly, a mumbled 'sorry' as she flushed. Draco continued nonchalantly.

"I'll have you know, Zabini, that I'm quite charismatic when I need to be."

Blaise looked doubtful. "Right. Your endearing personality has girls swarming your doorstep."

Draco smirked. "Well, not my personality exactly, but let's leave my libido out of this."

Pansy flushed a shade darker whilst Blaise continued to look doubtful. "Uh huh, you're prince charming all right."

"But aside from that, I can be a perfect gentleman."

"Prove it then."

Draco gave him an irritated scowl. "What are we, ten? Don't be ridicu—"

"I think you're bluffing."

"You're trying my patience."

"Just one girl."

"It's not even worth my time."

"So you're saying you can't do it?"

"That's not what I—"

"Just do it, Draco! I know you can, you were always charming with m—"

"Pansy, shut up already. Alright, then, I'll do it."

"No bribes."

"Consider me poor."

"And it has to be any girl."

"Name her."

"And you have to sweep her off her feet."

"Done."

"No backing out."

"You have my word."

A sly smile spread across Blaise's face and he hesitated only slightly before saying: "Hermione Granger."

Draco and Pansy both answered in unison.

"No!"

But Blaise only shrugged. "You said any girl. She's a girl."

"She's a filthy mudblood!" hissed Pansy.

Speaking of attractive mudbloods … but Draco wasn't about to back out on something he'd given his word for. Plus it would be nice to have something on the infuriating know-it-all.

"Fine then."

Pansy looked appalled. Blaise looked ecstatic. "All right then, might I suggest this year's ball?"

Draco grinned. "That's a very good idea, Blaise. I think it would do nicely."

"So we're agreed?"

"Agreed."

Draco sighed with the memory. Nothing about having to kiss the girl whatsoever …

Sunday's were never productive working days for most Hogwarts students, particularly Sunday mornings. Of course the majority didn't include Hermione. And unfortunately for Harry—

"Pass me that book, will you Harry?"

Yawning Harry did so, jumping slightly when the book began to coo and purr at him. "What the—"

"Harry, please. What else would you expect from a book like that?"

Harry looked confused. "A book like what?"

Hermione looked up from the book she was currently skimming through with an incredulous expression. "You haven't even read the assignment, have you?"

The guilty smile was all she needed. Gritting her teeth together, Hermione sighed in frustration, talking more to herself than to Harry. "Why do you even bother, Hermione? You know it's always the same when working with those two. As if this month hasn't been bad enough already, of course, this is the cherry on top. Another project done all by myself because—"

"Hermione?"

"—Probably should just go to Snape and tell him the truth—"

"Hermione?"

"—doubt he would care anyway. Now if it was his precious Malfoy—"

"Hermione."

"—well, I guess it could be worse. I could be stuck with Ron—"

"HERMIONE!"

She turned and gave him an aggravated expression. "What?"

Harry sighed. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "About what?"

"You know," he said, just decimals of a whisper, "that thing from last Saturday?"

Brown eyes went flat and the air in the room seemed to grow heavier as she answered. "No."

"But Hermione, it's obviously been bothering you. Even Ron's noticed and he doesn't even kno—"

"I don't care what Ron thinks!"

Madam Pince shot them a cold glare from across the library and Hermione dove back into her book, a tinge of pink on her cheeks. Harry wasn't as easily baited, however. In a much softer voice, he continued.

"I can tell it's still bothering you, as much as you say it isn't. And there's something else you should know. It's about Ron …"

Hermione noticed the hesitation, and looked up expectantly. Harry had a look of uncertainty about him, troubled emeralds behind the spectacles of his glasses. "See the thing is—he wanted to be the one to tell you but you wouldn't—Ron doesn't actually—"

"Uh … ah … oh … "

The three syllables abruptly cut through Harry's confession. They turned towards the direction of the sounds, following it around the bookcase to the other side, only to be met by—

"Oh, Draco, mmmmmm…."

Draco Malfoy and a sixth year Slytherin, snogging passionately beneath the cover of an overhanging bookshelf. Not that they seemed to care whether they got caught or not. His hand was already a good ways up her torn skirt, whilst her blouse lay unashamedly open, the top two buttons having magically disappeared.

Harry was disgusted, and though he had a right mind to hex him on the spot, he refrained, knowing Hermione, as Head Girl, would do things diplomatically. When he looked over to his friend for confirmation, however—

His eyes widened in surprise.

She was stark white.

And apparently Draco had finally noticed their presence. With a sickening grin, he looked up at the two. "Well, well, well. Come to watch the show? They are lovely, aren't they?" he gestured towards the flustered girl's half-naked bosom.

This seemed to snap Hermione out of her trance. With a quick flick of her hand she pulled out her wand and pointed it at the girl's obtrusive uniform. "Reparo!"

The girl's shirt and skirt closed immediately, leaving her decent once over. No longer interesting, Draco pushed her neatly off his lap and rose to leer at the two gaping Gryffindors.

"Damn, too bad you have to be such a hard-ass."

"You leave her alon—"

"Harry stay out of this."

Harry closed his mouth but shot daggers towards the silver-blond haired teen. Draco only sneered back however.

"Malfoy, that's fifty points from Slytherin for lewd behavior—"

"Come now, Granger, you can't expect—"

"Each."

This time Draco's face became stony. With a glare, he pushed past them, muttering as he went, "Funny, you didn't seem to mind so much when it was with you."

Before she could respond, he left, leaving Hermione speechless and pale once over.

The night was cooler than most, frigid even, temperatures most Slytherins were used to, and yet Draco slept restlessly. He had occupied himself this week by snogging random girls, even allowing himself a feel or two with several. And still his attempts were futile. Even Maryln Adlin, the hottest sixth year at Hogwarts, with breasts any sensible teen would kill for, couldn't seem to distract him enough.

Only one kiss seemed to reiterate.

One worthless, filthy kiss.

It was around three in the morning when he suddenly bolted straight up out of bed, a cold sweat on his forehead and shaking, clammy, hands.

"Damnit." he murmured. It was unacceptable for a Malfoy to be plagued by stupid dreams.

Or stupid kisses … but Draco couldn't seem to shake off the nagging voice in the back of his head. He heard Blaise's voice again:

"For a second there even I thought it was the real deal."

And the nagging voice replied: that's because, for a second, it was.

Review please :)