Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and various other publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.


Hermione Granger was not a witch to mess with; Draco Malfoy had learned that fact many years ago, back in third year when she had punched him. He also knew that if his godfather wasn't careful then he would find himself in a pretty dire situation. It was these thoughts that floated around his mind in his trek up to the castle.

"What do you want Professor?" she snapped, after she was sure Draco had left.

"Miss Granger, is that any way to talk to a teacher?"

"I couldn't care less Professor, and I believe that I asked you a question."

Any 'nice' feelings she felt towards him from their earlier encounter had vanished, something they were both acutely aware of.

"I would like to know why you blew up that tree, the same tree Miss Granger that you then proceeded to vanish, which then left a gaping hole in my side."

It was only then that Hermione looked down and saw a trail of blood behind the Professor. Ah, she thought, that was problematic.

"Hmm, well Professor I guess I have a new question."

"And what may that be Miss Ganger?"

"Why were you behind the tree in the first place, Professor?" She had him there, he thought, any other teacher would have gone up to the castle, assured that the student had listened. But not him, no, he just had to stay and find out what exactly they had been up to before his arrival.

"That, Miss Granger, is none of your business."

"I think you'll find it is, especially since that," she pointed down at his side, "needs to be looked at, and soon, judging by the amount of blood you are currently loosing."

"Damn it," the Professor said, then sighed. "Miss Granger, if it isn't too much of a trouble for you, would you mind closing the wound that you so graciously inflicted upon me?"

"I would," she said offhandedly, as though he were asking her to close a door, not the hole in his side, which was still bleeding. "Sir, may I ask you another question?" she asked, in a sickly sweet tone of voice , the same tone she had used on Draco only moments ago.

He was getting impatient, and the loss of blood wasn't helping things. What was it with her and questions tonight?

She carried on without invitation, "Why can you not heal it yourself Professor after all ... aren't you a wizard."

"Miss Granger," he hissed though clenched teeth, "if you do not close this wound-"

"Fine, fine! I'll close the damn thing, but after that, you let me go. No questions." He stared at the young woman in front on him, what was wrong with her, he thought. One minute she was happy and the next she was angry, there was something going on. Something more than losing one or two friends.

"Fine Miss Granger, just-"

"There. Done. See?" He felt his side where his clothing was torn; she had healed it, and it hadn't left a scar. What an unusual feat, even Poppy had trouble healing a wound without a scar, and yet the Granger girl had managed to so it with even breaking a sweat. How had she, of all people, managed it?

"Thank you Miss Granger. Now, we should be getting up to the castle."

"Hmph," was the only noise that can from her mouth before she proceeded to storm up to the castle, not caring that it was dark and there were still dangerous people out there.

"Miss Granger," he groaned. But she didn't turn back, nor did she stop, she just carried on up to the castle, blowing up random plants and small trees that dared to cross her path.

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The familiar feeling of being watched settled over him, but being the Malfoy that he was, he didn't show the people watching him that he was aware of their presence. Instead, he carried on walking up the stone steps to the Great Hall, eager to sit, eat, and watch out for his friend.

"Hey! Hey, Malfoy!" The boy in questioned groaned and turned around, only to be met with trademark Weasley flaming red hair and the boy who lives to be a constant pain in the arse. Great, just great, he thought.

"What do you want Weasel?" he sneered, his Malfoy mask firmly in place for the first time tonight it seemed.

"Where's Granger? Lost her? Killed her? It's a shame, you know, I thought she would at least get some action, even if it were with someone like you, but guess what? Seems I was wrong."

The only indication Malfoy had heard what the Weasel had said was the slight rising of his brow.

"What is it with people assuming we had sex?" he mumbled under his breath, too low for anyone to hear him.

A few months ago, he made a promise to Hermione. He had promised never to hex the boys no matter what they said to him about her, as it would only get him into trouble, and she'd hate for that to happen. So far, he had managed to stick to his promise, but he had been mulling over breaking it for some time, surely one little curse couldn't hurt ... could it?

"What are you on about?" he said impatiently, he had no time for them. He was hungry.

"Everyone knows your just using her Malfoy; why else would you hang around with her?"

"Is that what you do, or used to do, I should say?"

"Of course!" Potter exclaimed, "She was never a friend to us. I mean, seriously, we only took pity on her because no one else would and she did our homework for us, and then there was the case of her parents, well … that just made things clearer for us. You know you shouldn't trust her Malfoy; she shouldn't even be in this school with all the things she has done, and will do. Dumbledore won't listen though; unfortunately he always seems to see the good in people. "

It was one of those moments you never wanted to happen. He had already been aware of, yet again, his Head of House's presence mere seconds before the Weasley boy began his tirade, but it wasn't his presence he was wary of. He could clearly see the outline of the witch in question in the near distance, and something told him she had heard every word said about her.

"What did you just say?" The unique voice of Hermione Granger reached the ears of all four occupants of the hall.

They were in trouble now, Malfoy thought gleefully. He did note though, with some dismay that one of the four decided to slink off into the Great Hall. He had never known his Potions Professor to back out of a verbal or physical fight before. Curious, he thought.

"Remember what we said, Malfoy." Potter looked at him long and hard, as though he were trying to convey some unknown message, then turned to his red haired friend and said, "Come on mate, I'm starving."

The red head looked at his friend and mumbled something Draco didn't quite catch before they both gave him one last look and left. It was with their departure that Hermione and Draco were left alone once more.


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