Disclaimer: Anything that you recognize in this story from the 'Harry Potter'series is not mine.

I am soooooo sorry that I haven't updated this fic in so long. School was really hectic and programming for several late nights didn't help. Luckily I'll have more time now…well since I don't have a job lol. I got layed off before I started working eek. Well at least it wasn't my fault and now I'm looking for a new job for my work term sigh. Anyhow enough about me, there should be more updates from now on. I promise. If I don't, I give you permission to bother me about it by emailing me :) . Thanks to KDTheRavenclaw for editing.

Read and Review my sweeties! Besides, I might be so bored that I'll try out that new thing where you can respond to reviews lol.

Chapter 8

Hermione struggled all the way to the hospital wing. Today was destined to be the worst day of her week. She was forced to deal with the two Slytherin princes back to back. It was only after Draco's accident during a Hufflepuff game that she realized it was time to end his relentless juvenile attitude towards her. Besides, they were there on a mission regardless of their differences.

She glanced over to the far end of the hospital wing where the trademark Malfoy hair shone brightly in the sun with his head propped by several pillows. She approached hesitantly, wondering if she should save her visit for another day. She placed some Hogsmeade treats on the night table.

His face was more serene than usual and she allowed her eyes to wander to his lips and grinned to herself.

He even smirked while asleep.

"What do you want, Hermione?" his voice sneered, startling her.

"Don't do that!" she yelled, slapping him on the arm. His grin turned into a nasty frown. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"I fear to sleep in case people stop by with any suspicious treats," Draco said, gazing at the goodies she had brought as if they were poisoned.

"You're welcome," Hermione barked, already not amused with his attitude. She slumped down on the chair next to his bed. Consequently, he cleared his throat loudly.

"Did I say you could sit there?" he said harshly to her.

"What's gotten into you? Unless you've forgotten, we've come here for a reason," she hissed at him.

"It did not involve you falling for the Dark Lord," he sneered, forcing himself off the bed to look at her angrily.

She picked up the box of goods angrily, "I don't bloody like him. I don't know how you got those ideas."

"He saved you, Mione," Draco said, bitterly.

"After trying to attack me!" she said haughtily.

He had definitely lost it. There was no other way to explain it.

She wondered if they would accept him at St. Mungo's….

"You have no bloody idea what it means," he said frustratingly, holding his head in his hands.

"Until you can think more clearly, I won't even bother arguing with you Draco Malfoy," she said in a low whisper in his ear.

"Fine!" he said rather immaturely but he didn't care.

"FINE," she screamed at him, throwing the chocolates at him, "HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER." She turned around and stalked out of the room without another look back. Hermione rolled her eyes from thinking of how they ended their little encounter so childishly.

Draco took a few heavy breaths before slamming his fist into the table. He could not believe why she had to be so stubborn and yet he clutched her gift and card dearly.

Tom walked quickly followed by a limping Hermione to the northside of the lake where they were to serve their 'intense' punishment by gathering asphodel for the herbology professor.

Most students considered their duel as an insignificant fight between Slytherin and Ravenclaw. A very select few, such as Cornelia and Draco saw the cool drift between Hermione and Tom.

Cornelia thought that the former had definitely chosen the wrong Slytherin to mess with. She didn't miss the looks Tom had sent Hermione when she wasn't paying attention. Or how about the fact that Hermione was the only person these days who could argue with Tom Marvolo Riddle without having some Slytherin at their neck? These days, Tom had too many followers…

Draco, on the other hand, was overwhelmed by their behavior for another reason. He did not mind their constant bickering, as long as both she and her hate for Tom remained fully alive.

The only thought that ran through his mind as he sat in an isolated room on a cold, breezy November afternoon were a few words communicated to him before traveling to the past.

The only words that he kept repeating were, "It's impossible."

Hermione glanced at the asphodel. It was a plant commonly associated with the underworld and the afterlife and hence it was no surprise that it was used in the Draught of Living Death. She knew that it would be a pain to gather it after hurting her ankle. She hadn't thought that it was serious enough to go to the infirmary and lose a day of school.

"I suggest that this should be completed in thirty minutes," Tom said, reminding Hermione that the professor had not given them a time limit. "I have Quidditch practice."

Hermione snickered, "Merlin help you to catch the snitch with that injury."

Tom growled loudly in frustration. He gave her a dirty face for bringing up the matter once again.

"You never stop, do you?" You're the one who got us in this mess so I suggest that you shut up."

"Me?" Hermione said angrily, watching Tom through narrowed eyes.

"Yes, you," Tom barked, throwing his basket aside as he descended to collect some asphodel.

"If you were not so stubborn about that arm…" Hermione said roughly, flinging her basket to the ground and mirroring Tom's action. The Herbology professor would be lucky to find the plants in any decent shape besides a slaughtered state.

"Me, stubborn? You're the one who cannot accept that I am the better student in class. You should quit your measly attempts to compete with me," Tom said, forcefully punching the basket with the new bunch gathered.

"You may be the best student but at least I don't kiss my professor's arses and have a pathetic life," Hermione said without thinking. As soon as the darkness rose in his eyes, she began to cower. With one swift move he wrenched her arm towards him roughly. She moaned in pain as he threw her on the ground. The tears started to flow rapidly.

"Pathetic, de Lioncourt," Tom repeated, glowering over her body. He pushed her arms against the cold damp ground as he lowered his body on her while imprisoning her waist between his legs.

"I should have sacrificed your pathetic life last night. Which makes me wonder de Lioncourt, if that is your name… why didn't you tell the staff?" he asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione said, trying to keep her face expressionless, "I owe you my life."

"There's more to you de Lioncourt and I'll find out," Tom hissed, drawing her up from the ground roughly and shoving the basket at her.

"Why Tom? Am I the first person that isn't crawling on my knees for you? Damn you Tom Riddle cause I never cared about beating you in class. What are you scared of?"

She glared at him, leaving the question to the wind. He couldn't afford to tell her. He had worked so hard to get to this point and he wasn't looking back. It was time for him to reveal the Heir of Slytherin to the magical world.

He gazed at her speechlessly and for the first time in weeks, he was able to place everything about her in a more enlightened perspective. For weeks he was convinced that she was playing mind games with him. For his first six years, he had breezed through all his courses and advanced projects.

Then she came along.

Everything was not simple.

He watched her constantly in class but couldn't figure it out. As she waited for his response, her chest was heaving and her loud ragged breaths bothered him so much. He wanted to lock her up. Worse. He wanted to feed her to his Basilisk. She was nothing but a dirty Muggle. She was weak. Her tears were streaked across her face and her hair was in an absolute mess with the wind and mud.

Yet she stood up to him. Despite his insults, she never backed down from him Why was she concerned about his arm even after all he had done to that mudblood friend of hers? Why couldn't she understand that they both stood on opposite grounds?

She was a Muggleborn. Nonetheless, she remained on his mind for weeks without end. She did everything that was beyond logical to him.

That's why he feared her.

"What are you afraid of?" she repeated loudly, "Can't you just accept that someone might not fear you but actually care," she gulped, looking away and not understanding why she had said it.

"I have Quidditch practice, mudblood," he reminded her coldly, stuffing the basket in her arms. She cradled her right wrist. What came next he hardly had expected. She slapped him roughly across his face.

"Don't you dare touch me again," she said, walking away from him.

There would be no public embarrassment. It was only Hermione and him… standing quite a distance away from the castle. She fell to her knees next to a cliff over the lake and began gathering the leaves. Of course, he knew that the plant was more potent when located on cliffs since they were close to the lake's habitat.

He did not want to be near her. How dare she slap him! Except why was he the one avoiding her?

He feared her… not as a witch but these new feelings he had whenever she was around.

How dare she tell him that she cared! He shouldn't have saved her. When he had seen Hermione running desperately through the hallways, he felt overjoyed at watching her be the first to die. It all changed when he saw her eyes. Her fear. Her tears.

If he believed in angels, she would be one.

If he believed in beauty, she was it.

If he believed in purity, she had redefined it.

At that point, he knew it was a mistake but he didn't know why. His thoughts were interrupted as he heard a loud noise and Hermione shriek. He turned towards the cliff and found it vacant with her basket thrown aside. His eyes searched the area around.

"De Lioncourt" Tom screamed, running towards the cliff and looking at the water which seemed to have been disturbed.

This was it. He had been given the choice once again. He could save her and once again be a savior to those stupid professors. However, that would only cause him to be troubled by her more. He was on his way to greatness. He couldn't take chances with a drawback. She meant nothing to him. She was only a thorn at his side.

He would put an end to this foolishness. Smirking at the water, he walked away with a blank expression.

Ohhhh nice cliffie eh? Muahahaha…I've been waiting for this one since the beginning! Yes, I'm so bored these days that I plan out my cliffies. evil laugh