Hey there, I know there's a long delay between this chapter and the previous one, but things with my life and school got severely in the way and i forgot in between, as my beta said. So go on! I just get out and write my tattles at the end of the story.

Disclaimer Not mine. And definitely not yours either.

Chapter 3

They say all parent love their child, they just had different way of showing it. My parent was arguing, one day, late at night, when they thought that I've gone to sleep. It was about me, it was because of me, even though Dobby said it was not.

I was sneaking out of my room, I was barely turn 11 at that time, too excited to be asleep. I could see the light seeping through the door gap, and heard whispering, at first; I was, after a couple of minutes, able to hear my mother high tone and father's dismissive voice. I was going to walk back to my rooms, my instinct told me that it was not the best night to be caught wandering out late at night, when my mother's angry voices penetrated the thick wall of the parlor, to my little ear. That night I spent with my parent's voices playing out, in my mind, over and over again.

At the morning, I thought all the fight were finished, but when an unknown owl scooped in and landed in front of me with the long awaited letter from Hogwarts, I could sense the air getting heavier. I observed my father, who busying himself with a copy of Daily Prophet, and my mother, who keep throwing glances at my father, as I nibbled on my toast.

Hermione said that it was my own mistake that I've heard what I should've not. Pansy assured that it was normal; every parent had fight, sometimes. And I didn't bother whatever Vincent and Gregory said, they helped me forget though, such a friend they were.

I bought my school's need that day anyway. Mother ushered me to get ready for shopping, as soon as I finished my milk, and father has already gone. I was struggling with my jacket left's sleeve when a pale hand shot and grabbed my shoulder. I could feel my jacket being pulled and I could slip my left hand easier.

"Ready to go?" I whipped my head, so fast that I might have dislocated it, and found myself looking at my father tall figure. He was wearing his black cloak when Dobby came brought his cane.

"Is your mother ready?"

I was so speechless that I didn't answer my father. I didn't even realize when my mother come and smothered me. By then my eyes were wide like a saucer and my jaw was slightly open.

"Draco?" my mother called, she held my father right hand and was giving me a warning look. "Are you coming?"

I looked down and was slightly ashamed that my parent caught me looking like a deer. I nodded, haven't found my voice yet.

"Son?" my father peered at me from his left shoulder and bent his left arm, so I could take it. I hurriedly walk toward them, took my father left hand and soon felt the churning sensation of apparition.

The thought of my parent fighting about me, didn't placate my mind anymore.

"Your father came."

Was all Hermione said as we stepped out of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor as I tried to locate the Quidditch's store I saw earlier. My sense of direction had not improved yet by the look of it, or it was just the Diagon Alley being overcrowded today.

"Yes." I stood on my toe hoping to see the store so I could steal some time to revisit the outmost magnificent nimbus 2000, before I have to meet my mother at Ollivander's. "He did."

Today was warm with slight breeze, as it was almost the end of summer and fall was vastly approaching, Hermione was wearing a white coat, which reached her knee, on top of a v neck blue dress with a corset-like on her waist, which was the same length with her jacket, while I wore my favorite vast underneath my warm black cloaks.

I was just finished with my Hogwarts robe at Madam Malkin and Hermione was, as could be expected, just finished her raid at Flourish & Blotts. Our parents were supposed to be around but they thought it would be better to shop in separate way.

"It is faster this way; otherwise we could spend all day."

My mother said, as soon as we withdraw our money from Gringotts and she was done checking my cloak.

"Have you met Harry Potter?"

All I could say was a weak 'who?' as my mind occupied with other more important matter, like finding the Quality Quidditch Supplies. Hermione jerked her hand, which somehow was in my hand, and pouted. I had no choice other than stop walking and turn to face her. My eyebrow automatically shot while mouthing a 'what'.

"Did you talk to Harry potter? Scrawny, black messy hair, glasses." Upon seeing my incredulous look she continued. "I saw he enter Madam Malkin sometime after you."

Believe her to spy on people and actually now when the said people entered a shop. How did she saw his entrance anyway? She was at Flourish and Blotts far before I got to Madam Malkin. I almost, almost being the key word here, pray for this Harry Potter. Where the bloody shop anyway?

She sighed and turned to walk to the opposite way. And of course believe Hermione to made me gave up on brooms, as she seems to do a lot started from when she 'confiscated' my broom, and actually whipped my mind cleaned from anything quidditch-like, to focused only on catching up with her, as I didn't want to be caught lost or rather, be accused of letting her lost. That could only end up in disaster. Though the idea of Hermione getting lost in Diagon Alley was rather impossible, as she was the girl who brought me to my first broom, I didn't want to take any chances with her, anything is possible with her.

As you could already guess, Hermione was and still is my father's favorite. So I could practically see my father's disappointed face, complete with his trademark scowl, as I tried my hardest to catch up with her. For a girl, she was, surprisingly, fast, like at this moment I almost lost her, even though she was just walking. I blame it on the crowd.

"Hermione!" I shouted her name, hoping that she heard the plea behind it. "Hershey."

She stopped. I know she would stop, she didn't like that name very much. The name was practically etched on my mind since Vincent had brought the chocolate to the manor. It was good, no, scratch that, it was great. The chocolate melted in my mouth as soon as it touched my tongue and there was a bit of bitter that matched rather well with the sweet, made it better than other sweet I've ever had, considered it muggle's invention. Beside, the 'almost' same sounding, Hermione was just like Hershey, they both made me feel better, instantly. Not that I would ever, ever, admit it aloud.

"Don't call me that." She hissed, "Not in public."

I couldn't help but smile at her discomfort, it was rarely shown. Hermione was either calm or indifferent, much like my father. I was, sometime, wondering where the similarity came from, but the thought was already gone as fast as it came.

"Where are we going?" I said as I step beside her, despite my long legs and her short figure, I still had difficult time to keep up with her whenever she's mad.

"I am going to get my wand." She answered without shifting her gaze from the street.

Before I knew it, 1st September was already come and I had to go to King's Cross. I was welcomed with steam and chatter, as soon as I step across the platform between nine and ten in King's Cross. I heard about Hogwarts Express before, so unlike other first years who was beyond excited, I refrained myself from jumping around with delight, since my father was less than 5 feet behind me.

Platform 9 ¾ was filled with magical children, and their family, bearing enormous trunk and cage owl. Hello, How's your summer, and take care could be heard everywhere. My father calmly walked toward the train, with my stuff trained behind him, levitated. I stayed with my mother and tried to find a golden brown hair girl.

It was fruitless. I caught Crabbe and Goyle, smirked to Pansy along the way, and was introduced to Blaize Zabini. But I hadn't seen her until it was time to board the train, it was impossible for her to missed the day she got free from her house.

"Now, now, Draco, time to go. Remember you still come home at Christmas and Easter." Said my mother as she smothered my collar and ruffled my hair. Her voice was slightly quivered but her face remained strong, though I thought I saw unshed tears. I tugged my mother sleeves and smile reassuringly.

"Off you go, son. Make me proud." My father said and squeezed my shoulder a little bit. We shake hands and exchange a nod.

From around me, children hugging and parents tearing at the sight of their children's back, but still, I didn't find her. I scanned the platform once more before I board the train and searched my compartment. It must have been at the front just as my father said. Gregory and Vince joined me in the way, we shared some hellos, but after that, they content to silently follow me. I knew not to ask them about Hermione whereabouts, which would be a waste of time.

I passed compartments full of Hufflepuff, seven years boy, seven year girl, and when I encountered an empty compartment among the full others, I knew that's mine.

"I thought you'd never come, Draco." Said the very girl I've been looking for since my first minute at platform 9 ¾.

She looked so happy, there was tinge of pink on her already rosy cheek and her eyes sparkled with amusement. I've never seen her so happy before, exhilarated yes, but not happy. So happy, that she seemed to be bouncing on her seat. She wore a purple lacy dress that reached just above her knees with a white stocking and matching purple shoes. She looked… nice, especially with a purple ribbon around her half up half down golden hair.

She patted the seat next to her as I realized that she was not alone. Sat across from her was the scrawny, messy looking boy I've met at Madam Malkin. I looked over him. He looked… as messy as I last seen him. His black hair was messy like he was just waking up from a nightmare, his attire didn't fit and worn-looking. He screamed fragile, with his glasses and frail figure, but looking into his eyes I could find an awkward boy with determination.

"Oh, Dre meet Harry Potter. Harry meets Draco Malfoy, my ever loving best friend." My left eyebrow instantly shot and I looked at her mockingly, though my mouth was itching to smile. She never called me her best friend before at least not to others.

The thought that a Harry Potter sat across of me came just after I recovered from a Hermione-called-me-her-best-friend-aftershock. So this was the boy my father had been fussing about. I didn't recognize him sooner because of his messy hair cover his scar. At least he was not walking around parading his scar for the world to see. I nodded a little at him, though I doubt he knew what it meant.

After that Hermione introduced him to Gregory and Vincent. I never met this chatty Hermione for all of my 11 years life. She was always the listener, the observer one. Her hand moved as she excitedly explained Chocolate Frog to Harry.

Just before her smile get on my nerve, Pansy came.

"You better change, Hogwarts is thirty minutes away." She smiled at me and moved to invade my seat so she could tell Hermione about the latest gossip.

I grudgingly moved and gestured the boy to go out. We changed into Hogwarts robe and walked back to our compartment. Harry was quiet the whole time. Hermione was on her way to wear her robe and I helped her fastened it when I notice a rather large bruise on her knees.

"You're bruising." She looked at her knees and checked on it. "When is it?"

She shrugged, "Must be from my fall this morning." I stared at her in disbelieve. There was only one way Hermione Granger could fall; it was because she made herself fall, just like my broom incident, or this bright and cheerful girl was not Hermione. Why did she do that for this time?

Suddenly Harry looked down in shame and there's tinge of pink on his cheek. He blushed. I frowned, trying to make the connection between Hermione's fall and Potter's blush.

"You, of all people, fall? On what occasion?" I crossed my arm over my chest.

She smirked and looked at me mischievously, "Oh, there was just this boy accidentally knocked me over. And Harry here came and save the day." She finished her story cheerily and, astonishingly, clapped.

I nodded, didn't want to think about her unusual behavior yet, "Just made sure to ask for bruise salve from uncle Sev."

I leaned my back on the seat but then I recalled that she didn't have close relationship with Uncle Sev, at least not as close as me, since he is my Godfather. "Or do you rather have me ask?"

Her smile was getting brighter, "You're the best!"

I nodded. I better approached Uncle Sev before the welcoming feast over and the first year was to follow their respective house.

I felt Hogwarts Express getting slower before finally jilted into a stop. I fall into step beside her while Potter was on the other side, looked a little bit pale but composed nonetheless. With Goyle and Crabbe followed closely in front of us, clearing out the way as Hermione whispered, we joined the queue of the other kids that were practically jostling to get out of the train.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here," Hagrid, the oaf of a gamekeeper, beamed over the sea of heads. "All right there, Harry?"

Hermione looked over Potter with an amused expression, not that the others could see it, since it was pitch dark and cold; the other kids were shivering and rubbing their hands together, trying hopelessly to create some warmth.

"C'mon, follow me — any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Hermione could be easily mistaken as skipping while the rest of the first years were slipping and stumbling, including me. Vincent was grumbling and grunting, by the time we arrived at the edge of the great black lake.

There was a loud "ooohh!"

Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. I was sure that my first image of Hogwarts at night with its glory would always sewed in my mind and become the first reason for me to feel gratitude to my parents approval of Hogwarts instead of shipping me off to Drumstrang.

Hermione's face was glowing as the light from Hagrid's lamp fell upon her. Her eyes softened and I could tell that she was just as awestricken as the rest of us, except that she didn't let her jaw hanging open or even let a small gasp escaped from her lips. Neither did Potter. I could feel his excitement but fortunately, he didn't bouncing or blubbering around about how beautiful the castle was, I started to like him.

I and Hermione walked, carefully, into one of the small boats at the shore, followed by Potter and Pansy while Vincent and Gregory were in the boat beside me. At Hagrid's command –"FORWARD!" – the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over us as we sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

I offered my hand to her, whom she took impassively, when the boat reached some kind of underground harbor and I had shakily clambered out onto pebbles and rocks. She dusted her robe from invisible dust and walked beside me while peeking behind her shoulder, once or twice, smiling to Potter.

The big oaf, Hagrid, Hogwarts' gamekeeper, took us to a huge oak front door. Hagrid was talking to a tall, black-haired witch in Emerald-green robes, who from her stern face I knew as McGonagall, the Transfiguration's professor.

She led us through a big entrance hall, as big as father's study if I dare say but with a higher ceiling, a marble staircase, across the flagged stone floor, into a small, empty chamber off the hall.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room."

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarted yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."Her eyes lingered on a moment at a boy who clutched a toad on his chest, so hard that looked like it was going to burst at any moment.

"I will return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall.

"Please wait quietly."

Just as Professor McGonagall's robe disappeared into the door, whisper erupted. Everyone was anxious about what house they were going to, and how the sorting conducted, though mostly was mudblood and some lowly half-blood, since the children with magical background would probably had been told by their relative.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Potter's voice screamed 'nervous' in my ears.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." Said another shaky voice.

I turned around and found a Weasley comfortably stood beside Potter and Zabini. Though how did he manage to stand so, uncomfortably, close to me, I never knew. I snorted, rather unconsciously, and cross my hands over my chest.

"The year has not even started, already trying to spread your Weasel-ness, weasel?" I said, rather mockingly, and shot my eyebrows, inspecting his red hair, freckled face and a hand-me-down robe, that a bit short for him.

His face turned as red as his hair, "It's Weasley." He murmured.

"Not everyone wants to be a red hair, freckle and a breed machine human, you know?"I said, with a snicker and smirk, and turned my back on him, trusting Gregory to keep any fad hand away.

Hermione pulled Potter to her side, smiled reassuringly and whispering, the answer of his question I believe. He looked relieved, though sometimes his eyes would dart off and looked around.

We walked in two straight lines, Hermione and Potter was behind me while Pansy solemnly walked beside me. We went into a large, fairytale-ish looking room, with thousand of floating candle and an enchanted ceiling. I looked around in wonder, drank all the magic that my father told me, when I was a kid. There were many faces that held curiosity looked back at me. I curtly nodded at some of my father acquaintance's children, which I've met at some ball or ministry agenda.

As my father's story, there were four long and big wooden tables, which reflected each houses in Hogwarts and there was another long table at the top of the hall, the teacher table. At the center of the table was an old, wrinkled professor with a half moon spectacle and a long white beard. Professor Dumbledore, a crazy old coot, as my father often carelessly called him, the very Headmaster of Hogwarts.

One by one, the first year called and sorted. Hermione was gone to Slytherin, no surprise, with a wave to Potter. I shot my eyebrows in disbelieve, I was sure that this people have just met for hours yet Potter had managed to make Hermione act all girly and happy. There was something fishy; Hermione wouldn't just smile to stranger, would she? Or is it just me that see the cold and calculating side of her? Which one is Hermione?

I rubbed my forehead, hoping that it would help the headache that slowly came. In no time, it was my turn to be sorted. The hat screamed, 'Slytherin' before it even touched my head. I walked as normal as I could, because I felt like jumping and skipping, and sat at the vacate seat that Hermione had been saving for me.

"You were too happy to be Hermione today, weren't you? Feels like telling me something?" I asked. My voice was barely heard over the Sorting hat's scream and hundreds of clap. She didn't even look at me; all she did was smirked and clapped.

"Oh, hush. It's Harry's turn."She said.

Everybody was whispering when Professor McGonagall called for Potter. For a moment there, I pitied him. He looked so lost up there. When it was getting longer than the usual, Hermione started to squirm on her seat, and I started to think, 'bloody hell, she's just squirming.'

I turned and took my time, assessing her. Even though it would just plain weird, you know. She was wearing her crème hair band with something sparkling on it, I guess, and there was just a glow coming from her face when suddenly the hat screamed 'Slytherin'. My first thought was to put the candles on blame. Weird, is it just me or she was really glowing today?

Wait a minute.

Did I just hear the hat put Potter in Slytherin? Or is it just me being out for the entire day? Why, in Salazar's name, would the hat put Potter, the savior of the world, the epitome of light, in Slytherin, the house of pureblood and the outmost symbol of 'dark'? He's not even pureblood.

I whipped my head back to the sorting ceremony while Hermione was actively radiating joy. The hall was deadly quiet, by now; Potter shakily put the hat back and walked, as fast as his short legs could. I heard Hermione started to clap and a second later my housemate followed her lead. No matter who he is, Slytherin unite was the most important and unfortunately this scrawny little boy is a Slytherin.

He sat across from me and sighed, his face was no longer show the nervous lost little boy I saw on the dais but his shoulder still tightened, sign that he knew something was wrong and anxious to get this feast over with.

After Zabini was sorted, he was in Slytherin; Professor Dumbledore stood and opened his arm. His face was full of joy, but I could tell that the Slytherin Harry Potter was not what he expected, his eyes kept glancing at the Slytherin table, like he was waiting for Potter to suddenly change into the Dark Lord. I knew all the fuss about the Dark Lord, it was not my mother's favorite subject but I still heard little tattles from my father at some rare time.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! "Thank you!" He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered.

"Is he - a bit mad." he asked Daphne Greengrass, who was sitting right next to him.

"I believe the word is, um, what is those muggles loved to say?" a tall black boy with a high cheekbones, two seats from Potter, intercepted.

"Mentally retarded." Daphne said as she lifted her drink

He smirked and chuckled, "There you go." He lifted his own drink, "cheers. Blaise Zabini, everyone, pleased to be your acquaintance."

I snickered. I remembered a Zabini, once, a tall enchantress with a rare power to kill her husband within days after the marriage, left her with rather big fortune. Even on his eleventh year, he was already as charming as his mother could be.

His eyes darted quickly from Greengrass to me, "Malfoy."

He nodded and lifted his goblet. I nodded back and turn to the food that had suddenly appeared while Zabini greeted Hermione. The feast was bigger than I used to have at the Manor. Roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

I piled my plate with some roast potatoes, roast beef and carrots, as I felt an icy present right next to me. A gaunt looking and blood stained robe ghost has appeared between me and Gregory. While Gregory continued eating like nothing happened, I was losing my appetite.

The Bloody Baron, as my mother told, was really a disturbing ghost, unlike Peeves that agitated everyone near him by his Poltergeist-ness, the Slytherin's ghost was chilling because of his gaunt staring eyes and blood stained robe.

He didn't say anything; he stared at the wall above Potter's head all the times. When he caught me staring he just nodded and continues to stare at the wall.

The conversation around the table was changing from the professor in high table to their summer as the foods faded and blocks of ice creams, pies, chocolate and many sweets appeared. I noticed Hermione keep encouraged Potter to take whatever it was that he liked. Though, it appeared normal, I knew better. I get her strawberries and apple pies before Vincent and Gregory could put their fat hands on it while she was conversing with a third year.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahern - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." Pansy chuckled softly.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year; the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." Potter laughed, but he was one of the few who did.

"He's not serious." he muttered to Hermione.

She smirked, "is he, now?" upon seeing Potter's blanched face, she giggled, "Our dorm was far from there, there was no chance you could get lost to the third corridor on the way home."

"Unless someone make you," she murmured the last part softly, I was sure that I was not supposed to hear it.

We looked to each other, her eyes, glinting with mischief and amusement, told me that she knew that I've been eavesdropping. I, unwillingly, peeled my eyes off of her as Professor Dumbledore started flicking his wand, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, twisted and turned into words. I noticed many grimace and grumble from the upper year of Slytherin, and the teacher smile was rather fake.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!" And the school bellowed: "Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, Teach us something please, Whether we be old and bald Or young with scabby knees, Our heads could do with filling With some interesting stuff, For now they're bare and full of air, Dead flies and bits of fluff, So teach us things worth knowing, Bring back what we've forgot, just do your best, we'll do the rest, And learn until our brains all rot.

Everybody finished the song at different times. After that we followed the perfects, whom I forgot the name, to the dungeons. We stopped by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall. The perfects turned around and wave, "This particular spot, mind the wall, is The Slytherin dorms. The password is Felix Felicis and will changes sometimes in the middle of the term." A stone door concealed in the wall slid open as he said the password and we marched through it.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherin were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs. It feels homey in a strange way.

Professor Snape glided in through a hidden door that I didn't notice before, his robe billowing behind him. He stopped in front of us and looked at us one by one, though I noticed his eyes lingered a moment longer on Potter and there was something resembling disgust and fury in his eyes.

"Welcome to Slytherin, the house of Salazar Slytherin and those who ambitious and cunning." His voice was like whisper yet we all could hear it just fine.

"There are certain rules that I, as your head house, expect you to obey. I expect you to try your hardest to claim the house cup as your better had done in previous years." He paused and moved a bit to the right.

"Second, I don't care whatever happened in the common room, it stayed here. As you step out of that door, you are Slytherin and Slytherin stick to each other. I don't want to hear anyone fighting outside the common rooms. Do you understand?"

Murmur of 'yes sir' filled the common rooms and Professor Snape nodded, "Feel free to ask for help to the upper year, Pucey here and Cassandra Rosier, is your perfects, use them. And if they can't help, find me.

"The last and the most important of all, Slytherin doesn't get caught. I don't care what you are doing after curfew, or where, as long as you are not caught by the other perfects."

After Snape made sure that everyone was intact, don't ask me why, he sent us to bed. The Slytherin dorms were bigger than the other houses. There are three first year in a room, but it would be just two in each room after 3rd years. I was with Blaize Zabini and Harry Potter, who was practically ordered to move by Hermione, indirectly, to my room, and Vincent happily complied.

As I settled in my blanket I remembered that I haven't asked for a bruise salve from Uncle Sev. I guess I had to do it tomorrow then. My lids were dropping when I remembered something was amiss. It was something to do with Hermione, but I couldn't remember what. I couldn't resist the sleep that had been hanging over just at the edge of my consciousness, and with a sigh I let myself be claimed by the night. I never remember about anything weird in Hermione that I, previously, found strange. All I remember was my father's stern voice a day before my departure to Hogwarts.

"Be friend Harry Potter, son, you'll do him a great favor." He sipped his coffee, "and me, to some extent."

So that is. Longer than usual, and the longest chapter I've ever wrote, because I just felt guilty that I've abandoned this story for my school. First, I am sorry for any grammatical and spelling mistake, I didn't have time to check it over because it was late at night when I finished this and tomorrow I have to go to some place, which is not important. There's a lot of pieces that I've take directly from the book like dumbledore welcoming speech and some of Harry's dialogue.

It was Draco POV so there's things that he didn't notice because it was as normal as walking in the park for him (unlike Harry that pay attention to even the smallest form of magic and was asking many things in the books). His mind was mainly focused on Hermione's attitude changing, which he forgot as soon as his head hit the pillow, and the fact that she had Harry Potter beside her, chatting amiably like an old friends. And in this chapter we saw the obsessed over Quidditch side of Draco and Hermione that, somehow, know everything. Now we get some light on how relationship between young Malfoy and Hermione was going. How Draco always able to look beyond Hermione's mask yet can't really grasp whatever inside her head.

Tell me what else you got from this chapter and what do you think. Feel free to share your opinion on what you want to happen next or how thing should be. Be gentle, mind you, I am a young writer. hee..

And don't think I didn't notice the lack of review!