A/N: Aha! Chapter 3! Whee!

Well. Not much to say. Just that, slowly, the plot unfolds. DUN DUN DUN! XD Nyahahah.

Yeah. Sorry. Sugar high.

So, here it is, Chapter three!

Read and Review!!!

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Chapter Three

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"Malfoy, for the last time, the theme will NOT be 'common worst fears'!" Ernie rubbed at his temples and leaned against the table as Draco scoffed, rolled his eyes, and leaned back in his chair.

It was their second meeting. Their first one, they had agreed on the date for the first dance. Since Draco had, from the start, refused to do something related to the holidays, they had decided upon December 22nd, two days before Christmas Eve. It hadn't been a long gathering, thank god, but this time was going much longer then expected.

They were trying to figure out the theme for their ball.

Granger had obviously put some thought into her themes. She'd had a whole list, of possibly eleven different options, and all bloody holiday related.

Draco had stubbornly refused to go along with a holiday theme. 'Not interesting enough', he had protested, and he'd protested it until the others had seen the sense in what he was saying. It didn't take long either. Apparently, everyone else was sick of holiday theme parties as well. Except for Granger, of course. And the Weasel. But Draco was sure that Weasley kept pushing the idea for a holiday theme simply to contradict and tick Draco off.

Granger's face had been priceless when holiday-related themes had been crossed off the list. She'd turned red, crumpled her list, then shot Draco such a dirty look that he actually almost shivered.

"And why isn't 'common worst fears' good enough?" Draco argued. This was truly typical. He had to give up hours of his precious time for this, and nobody would even listen to his suggestions? Brilliant.

"Because we don't want to half of Hogwarts to die of fright!" Ernie snapped back.

"I, personally, like Draco's idea!" Pansy piped up, in her whiny voice. Ah, faithful Pansy Parkinson. Faithful Pansy, but not exactly helpful. Her word was just as his good as his own in this situation.

"Fine. How about an underworld theme?" Draco suggested, leaning forward onto the table, a malicious grin on his face.

Draco's smile faded as his idea was met with the same response as his last one, with a series of groans and grumbled, angry phrases, most coming from Weasley, who didn't even bother to whisper.

"Actually, that's not a bad idea."

It wasn't Pansy who had spoken this time, but Granger. Draco's face matched everyone else's at the table: shock. Total surprise that Hermione Granger, of all people, was agreeing with Draco Malfoy.

She herself seemed as surprised as he was that she was agreeing with him.

Weasley's face was invaluable. He looked like she'd just forced poison down his throat, and then stabbed him in the back.

"I mean," She continued, fiddling with her quill, "we could do a 'ghost' theme. We could invite all the ghosts in Hogwarts, and have them reenact their deaths…" She trailed off when she noticed that nobody was looking exactly eager about what she was suggesting, her face starting to turn a faint shade of pink already.

"And we could bring in some of the things that were used to kill them!" The Weasel piped in, grinning, apparently over his shock.

It wasn't long before everyone else was throwing in their own ideas.

"We could try and get the Weird Sisters to be our band!"

"The atmosphere definitely has to be spooky…maybe we could find a smoke machine!"

"It'd be nicer if this was around Halloween, but who cares? Let's give them a thrill before Christmas!"

Why did Granger look so pleased with herself? That was just like a spin-off of his idea! But why bother saying anything? Besides, Granger just promoted his own suggestion. Easier to just get this over and done with, than argue at the fact that the idea suddenly became acceptable when she said it.

"So, all in favor of a ghost theme?" Pompous Ernie asked, and every hand, except for his, lifted into the air.

Draco looked left, then right, and then, somewhat reluctantly, raised his hand.

"For props, I might be able to arrange for some human heads."

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Hermione slammed the portal door into the Gryffindor Common room open, and was relieved to find it relatively empty. The room was only occupied with a few first years over by the corner, and by Harry and Ron, who were lounging in front of the fire.

She stomped over to them, slammed her bag down, and plopped herself down next to Ron on the couch.

"Lemme guess…Malfoy?" Ron grinned as he moved over to make some more room for her, and Hermione grunted a 'yes'. Ron nodded in understanding, having felt the exact same way when he'd stomped through the portal door half an hour earlier. Hermione had it worse though. She had to spend an extra half and hour in the company of Malfoy, where Ron, on the other hand, had lied about some Quidditch related problem to get out of the meeting early.

"He's just so…argh! He won't take any of this seriously!" Hermione exclaimed, hitting the arm of the couch with her fist. "He keeps making these stupid suggestions, and then gets all huffy when nobody even considers what he's saying. Seriously, who would want dead dogs hanging from the ceiling?"

Hermione's rant was followed by some more incoherent words. "Doesn't he understand that we're supposed to try and relieve some of the fears of the people, not give them nightmares?"

Harry snorted loudly, and shut his Astronomy textbook. "Hermione. This is Malfoy we're talking about. Why should he care about making people feel better?" He paused, shot an apprehensive look towards the first years, and then said, his voice lower, "Most likely he's one of the Death Eaters and is having one big laugh over this!"

Ron gave Harry a skeptical look, and swallowed the head of his Chocolate Frog. "You're not on about that again, are you?"

Harry's expression darkened. "I'm telling you, he is one! Why shouldn't he be one? His whole family is associated with Voldemort!" At the mention of the Dark Lord's name, the first years over by the corner squeaked, and stared at Harry with frightened faces.

Hermione made shushing noises at Harry as Ron shook his head. "Malfoy hasn't got the guts to do something like that. Let it go, Harry."

An awkward silence followed, with Harry smoldering, Ron idly picking at his half-eaten chocolate frog, and Hermione thinking of something to say.

Harry had always been impossible to convince, and if this argument continued, then Harry and Ron would find themselves not talking to each other again, and Hermione would find herself caught between the two friends. Something she didn't want at all.

"Hermione! So who are you taking to the ball?" Ron asked so loudly and suddenly that Hermione jumped before turning to him. He was so very obvious, but he managed to change the mood. Harry lifted his eyes from the cover of his book and looked at Hermione curiously, even though she knew that he knew what Ron was doing. She grinned, and shook her head.

"Nope. I'm not telling! It's a secret! You'll have to find out at the ball." Even though she had already decided to go alone. So much easier then searching and stressing about finding a date.

Her smile widened as Ron threw a small pillow at her head. Harry himself mimicked the motion by grabbed the pillow behind his back and launching it at her as well.

"C'mon, Hermione!"

"Tell us!"

"No!" She squealed, grabbed her bag, and ran out of the room, up the stairs to her room to avoid the sudden attack on her.

Harry and Ron could hear her laughing as she ran all the way up the stairs, until she closed the door to her room.

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Draco relaxed against the emerald colored couch in the Slytherin Common Room, his mood no better then Hermione's.

"I still don't see what you're so sore about." Blaise Zabini, opposite him, put his feet up onto the desk, and casually picked at his fingernails.

"It's because I have to waste my precious time for this stupid 'social function', and then nothing I say is even considered." He growled, flipping over onto his side and resting his elbow on a pillow.

"So they ignore you a bit. Big deal. Just do your homework there or something."

Draco shook his head, and responded, "I can't. Cause then they badger at me for not paying attention. There's no way out with these people!" He turned over onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow.

"Then make a good suggestion that they might like, and quit whining to me!" Draco's head shot up, and he glared at Blaise, who merely raised an eyebrow (that was very obviously plucked here and there to perfection) at him.

"You wouldn't understand. You don't have to deal with that mudblood and the blood traitor." He lowered his head back down to the cushion, resting his cheek on the soft satin.

"Lucky me."

"She's just so…argh! She cares too much about this stupid ball! Every time I say something, she gets all huffy, and then whines that I'm not taking any of this seriously. And she's so…bossy! Like the little know-it-all bitch that she is! And he's an annoying prat, who constantly contradicts me, just for the sake of being against me. Mudbloods and poor, blood traitors should learn their place."

Blaise rolled his eyes, removed his feet from the table, and stood up. "Like I said, shut up, and just learn to deal with it. I'm going to bed."

"Hey! I am dealing with it! And you're not the one who has to listen to that mudblood's bossing around!"

"Once again, lucky me." Were Blaise's last words to Draco before he left the room and proceeded up the stairs.

Draco buried his face in the pillow again, and let out a short yell. Blaise was too…dismissive! It was so damn hard to have a normal conversation with him! He thought he was so much smarter then Draco.

Like that stupid Granger.

But he would never want to have a conversation with her.

Ew.

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For Hermione, time seemed to slow down completely, as was typical when someone couldn't wait for something to come to pass. In Hermione's case, she just couldn't wait for Saturday to come.

Planning the ball was much more excited then she thought it would be. She loved trying to think of something that everyone would eagerly wait for, and then talk of weeks later, over their holidays. The ball really was serving its purpose. It was keeping her mind off the troubles outside of Hogwarts. Sure, she worried every time she read something new in the news, but then, the ball would take over her mind again, and the war was forgotten.

Finally, though, Saturday morning came. They had all agreed to meet at noon on Saturdays, and Hermione was fidgety the entire time up until then.

She tried to take her day as slow as possible, to avoid having free time in which she would just sit and loiter around. Because then time would slow even more for her, and noon would never come.

She spent an hour eating breakfast (Harry and Ron left twenty minutes before she did, too bored to even bother waiting for her). She spent two hours doing her homework for the weekend. And the next hour she spent outside by the lake with Harry, Ron, and Ginny, chatting mostly about, unfortunately for her, Quidditch.

Hermione amused herself greatly watching Harry, though. He had started to react differently about Ron's little sister. Her hand would accidentally brush by his, and his cheeks would color slightly. She would say something nice to him, and he would smile as if he just caught the winning snitch. He would speak to her, and his words were slower, more thought over.

No doubt she'd have to coach him through this budding love as well. Harry could not be trusted on his own in this type of situation. He always somehow mucked it up. Fighting the Dark Lord, he could handle, but girls? He didn't stand a chance.

Finally, finally, Harry's watch read 11:55 (she'd been checking his wrist every five minutes for the past hour, to his great displeasure). Hermione stood, brushed the grass from her skirt, and speed-walked towards McGonnagall's office. Ron wanted to stay for the five minutes they had left, and Hermione simply had been too much in a rush to try and persuade him to come with her.

She stopped halfway there, though. Up ahead, she could see Hannah, Ernie, and Justin entering the school for their meeting.

Malfoy, on the other hand, was walking completely the opposite direction.

Just keep walking, Hermione. He's none of your business.

Except that it was. Now that they were going to start deciding on props and such for the dance, they were going to need as much help as possible. Malfoy would surely be able to do something.

Just keeeep waaaaalking…

But Hermione was too nosy for her own good. She couldn't help that little personality flaw of hers.

"Malfoy! Where do you think you're going?" She called, placing her hands on her hips as she stared at his approaching figure.

"How is that any of your business?" He sneered, stopping right in front of her.

"Because you're supposed to be helping us plan the dance. We're going to need your help, whether I like it or not. That's how it's my business." She snapped back. "I'm not going to allow you to ditch our meeting."

Malfoy cackled, as Hermione quite expected that he would. The action prompted Hermione to lift her chin even higher, and cross her arms over her chest defiantly.

"Well, luckily for you then that I'm not ditching then." He sneered, and raked his hand through his golden hair. "Dumbledore won't let me."

Hermione's eyebrows shot way up in surprise. "Since when do you listen to what Dumbledore says?"

"I have no choice. He told Snape to tell me if I cut our meetings, then my N.E.W.T. grades would be cut in half." Malfoy's smirk was suddenly replaced with an angry expression, and, she hated herself for it, but Hermione took a small step backwards.

"Well…fine then. We'd better get going, or else we'll be late." She hesitated, searching for something to say. If she'd been Ron or Harry, she probably would have laughed at his misfortune. But Hermione just didn't have that in her, to laugh at someone when they weren't even, currently, saying anything mean to her.

Malfoy shot her another glare, and walked right by her. "I may not be ditching, but I do have to heed nature's call."

Oh how he wished he could've been looking at her face. He just knew she was blushing out of embarrassment.

Hermione was indeed blushing to the roots, and a quiet "oh" escaped her lips before something very…peculiar caught her eyes.

Malfoy, who'd just again been brushing his blonde bangs from his face, had dropped his arm, and the sleeve of his robe had shifted.

There'd been something dark on his arm. She'd only seen the very tip of the wrist, but there'd been a black little strip on that little piece of flesh she'd seen.

There was no way Harry could have been right. He was only seventeen. Surely too young to be a Death Eater. And, like Ron had said, Malfoy simply didn't have the guts to be one.

It was definitely a trick of the light, what Hermione had seen.

There was simply no possible way.

So Hermione would keep quiet, and say nothing.

Nothing at all.

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TBC….

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A/N: Another chapter, done! I feel like this one was a bit weak though...blah. teh sads

Yes. I know. The whole ghost theme is lame. But I just couldn't think of anything else that caught my interest. Pleeeeeeeeeease excuse the lameness.

Well…not much to say. Surprisingly. O.o

All I can request is that you Read and Review! Please!