Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Jane Eyre, so all rights to JK. Rowling and Charlotte Brontë, those brilliant people.


Hermione spent her day researching in the library, ready to meet with Draco that evening. The proposed idea left her with countless possibilities, and she walked to her table, arms laden with books. These ranged from those familiar, like 'Extreme Incantations' or 'Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charms', then many other new texts like 'Power and Purpose'. The dust covered hardbacks crowded the desk, yet she continued to find more she thought of use. Whilst searching, she stacked some on the floor at the end of an aisle, intending to quickly find another book she believed to be a few rows down. Whilst scouring the bookshelves for that book she heard a crash, and found the sound to come from where she had left the pile. However she returned merely to find the books strewn across the floor, and no culprit in sight. She quickly dismissed the mystery and continued with her research.

After many hours, she retired to the Great Hall for tea. The tables were decorated with a variety of options, centring around the theme of Chinese cuisine. This caused much excitement for the students and teachers alike. Hermione spotted Slughorn at the end of the staff table trying to eat a whole duck pancake in one bite, and smiled at the unique, elderly man. He, on the other hand, just looked grumpy that she had seen his attempt, and she felt she could hear his grunt despite their great distance apart.

After a plate of sweet and sour chicken with noodles (which was quite a struggle and resulted in a frustrating tomato stain on her collar) Hermione returned to the library to gather her findings to then show to Draco. With her parchment under arm, she began the journey to the Slytherin dungeons. It frustrated her that McGonagall had arranged them to situated there, but she had argued that it was notably the quietest house - or certainly the least nosy - which suited their relatively secret project. As she descended the sloping corridors and staircases the walls became greyer, lighting darker, torches more spaced. Hermione desired to cast "lumos" but felt conscious that her discomfort from the darkness would be mocked and that was something she would rather avoid. Having followed McGonagall's instructions Hermione found herself at the entrance to a small room. It resembled a common room but was designed to only hold a few people, presumably created with secretive Slytherin schemes in mind.

The door creaked awkwardly as she pushed it open yet Draco showed no recognition of it or her. She closed it behind her before turning to look at him. He was sat in an armchair watching the fire beside him like he was expecting the flames to talk to him.

"Well don't just stand there," he grumbled, still not looking away from the fire. Hermione stepped cautiously towards him and took a seat in the arm chair opposite. She noted how he blended in with the black and green surroundings, yet she only with the fire which mirrored her red and golden tie.

"I have some ideas for us to start on-"

"I have you to blame for this ankle," interrupted Draco, gesturing towards his foot.

"Sorry?" Hermione replied, surprised and confused by his words.

"You left a pile of books. It must've been you - no one else would get that many."

"You can't blame me if you walked-"

"You're a safety hazard, lucky I didn't report you for my injury suffered as a consequence of your actions."

"How.. Why jump to the assumption it was me?" questioned Hermione, though knowing she was guilty of his accusation.

"You lurk in the library, looking for your people there."

"I have no people."

"Ei, those of little importance, Mudbloods and Weasleys and Potter, vermin amongst the books."

"How dare you!" exclaimed Hermione, shocked by how rude he still was. "You should apologise, that's out of order. How you could be so cruel, so foul towards me - I want to work with you on this Malfoy. Work together. No need to act with such an air of supremacy, it's false." He snorted and finally looked up from the fire. His change in position gave Hermione hope that he may've reconsidered his approach. Instead he gave a mocking response-

"I don't slouch. In my family we care about our appearance." Hermione figured he was referring to her comment about supremacy, and was ready to reply when he began a judgemental observation. He looked her up and down, picking out every feature and evaluating. His scrutiny unnerved and belittled her, causing her to stumble when she tried to talk. The power simply in his gaze scared her slightly.

"M- Malfoy, we need to work on this together, no bitter insults. I have some research I carried out earlier, and some ideas on how we could start."

"Show me." Rising from her chair, Hermione walked over to him and placed the parchments in his hand.

"Resume your seat." he muttered as he read over her work. Though it made her blush to be commanded so, she did not abide to his comment. Hermione was firm that he was not in charge - it was a partnership not a dictatorship.

"I-" Draco began before realising she was still stood next to him. He craned his neck to see her - she smiled and he grunted at her indifference towards the instruction. Draco thrust the paper to her. She thanked him and returned to her chair.

"How did you come up with that?" he asked. Hermione beamed as she recognised how he was impressed with what she found, and it pleased her to have beaten Draco already.

"Today with my research from books, then just figuring-"

"But where did you copy from?"

"From my head."

"That head I see sat on your shoulders?"

"Yes." she replied bluntly. His questions were unusual, and the confidence from her intelligent work began to slip. She was not a weak woman, but Hermione did struggle to feel powerful in this situation. Draco seemed to hold the room - possibly as the meeting was in the dungeons so he felt more comfortable here - yet in his posture he also asserted an undeniable authority.

Draco hated her - that she was certain - but he was listening, despite his claims of superiority. Truly listening to every word she said. His eyes had followed her constantly since she had returned to her seat. His stare was direct, piercing, yet his eyes lacked the harsh tone of some villains, reminding Hermione that he was just a boy, just as old as her, and probably just as scared about the war and the possible outcomes.

"Do you enjoy being such a book-worm?" Malfoy mocked. It was rather childish, but his smirk made it feel like an insult. Regardless, Hermione felt it best to reply with honesty.

"To learn is one of the keenest pleasures I have ever known."

"Well then your pleasures have been few." Hermione felt the many connotations radiating from his words and again her cheeks turned pink. She broke eye contact with him and looked down at her hands.

"It's nine o'clock."

"Yes." Draco replied. She returned his stare again, trying to judge his countenance.

"I ought to go. We start work tomorrow." stated Hermione, gathering her papers in an orderly fashion.

"Twelve hours time." Draco turned to face the fire again, and gave a dismissive hand gesture towards the door. Hermione was angered yet did not speak, feeling it best to to counteract his attitude on certain, more beneficial occasions. With a painful squeak and a crash, the door shut, leaving Draco alone in the room.