Denial

No. There was absolutely no way Malfoy had just snogged her in broad daylight. Hermione sat perched on a bench during her History of Magic class, hardly paying attention as Cuthbert Binns floated ererthally around the room and dully recited facts pertaining to their current lesson which was, ironically, ghosts. Of course, it was nothing Hermione hadn't already known, as her studies were far more advanced than what was required to be taught, so she let her mind wander back to the moment in the hallway.

She was beyond idiotic to have let him even come near her, especially when she knew he was in such a foul mood. He knew it would bother her, and that she could not- would not- bring herself to tell anyone. She hated Malfoy. Hated him now more than ever. If he couldn't physically hit a girl, which Hermione doubted would have much of a moral effect on him, he would mentally hurt her. She felt dirty, used, and guilty above all things. His icy grey eyes appeared in her minds eye and she felt sick. And then suddenly she was rushing out of the classroom. Mr. Binns broke off his sentence and floated behind Hermione.

"And just where do you think you're going, Miss Granger?" he demanded, but his question was cut off and the door shut behind her.

How dare Malfoy lay a single hand on her? She reckoned he had probably picked the habit up from his father. If Malfoy kept it up he'd be an even bigger arse than Lucius in no time.

In her raging thoughts Hermione collided into someone. Before she could process who it was a familiar voice shouted out and instantly flooded her with relief. "Oi, 'Mione! What's the hurry?"

"Ronald! Watch where you're going!" she scolded. He paled a little and she felt guilty. Just because she was frustrated didn't mean she could take it out on Ron.

"You're the madwoman storming around the place! Wait... d'you mind telling me why you aren't in class?"

Hermione shifted her feet and glanced at him. "Oh, I was just making a quick run to the library. And you were...?"

He held up a small sack that jingled noisily from his touch. "Running these over to Professor Trelawney."

She internally sighed. How could she have not heard him walking? There was only one name she could think of that answered her question. Her stomach clenched and then unclenched as her throat began to tighten from nausea. "Well, don't let me keep you!" she gasped.

Ron frowned at her, or at least she thought he did before she turned and walked briskly down the hall. "Hermione?" His confused voice rang out behind her.

She fought off the sickness long enough to turn her head. "What is it now, Ron?"

He gave her a smug look before saying "The library is the other way. You of all people should know that." And then he was gone.

Just as his broad shoulders turned down the corridor she raced to the lady's restroom. She had just made it into a stall when she was sick. She felt the bile as it left her nearly empty stomach. She was kneeling in front of the toilet fixing to stand up when she heard her. Pansy Parkinson.

Her harsh laugh came out as more of a snarl in the silence of the bathroom. Hermione hastily pulled herself up and braced the stall door to keep her balance. "Can you believe it? The little bitch had the nerve to touch him! Right in front of me as if I weren't even there."

There was a heavier voice that scoffed in shock. "Well, you didn't put up with her for long, did you, Pans?" The other girls voice rang a bell vaguely. Millicent Bullstrode, perhaps? If it was her, Hermione needed to make her way out of there as quickly as she could manage. The two of them were quite intimidating together.

Pansy cackled at Millicent's encouraging smirk. "Of course not! I cornered the slag in the bathroom just the other day." she said in a matter of fact tone. "Taught her a lesson she won't be forgetting in the near future."

The small hairs on Hermione's neck lifted at the cold implications of Pansy's words. Hermione followed their feet as they passed by her stall. They were probably headed to the mirrors. If she moved quickly enough, she could slide out of the stall and out of the bathroom before they took notice of her. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door. She was barely around the corner when someone grabbed her hair and yanked her back. She stumbled and fell to the ground, too stunned to do anything but stare up at Millicent in shock. Hermione quickly rose to her feet, pulled out her wand, and aimed it at the both of them.

"Well, well, well," Millicent sneered at her and folded her arms.

"What do we have here? The filthy little mudblood that lost her way?" Pansy finished and gave her a nasty look. "It's a good thing you're here, actually. I was growing bored of my old plaything. It's about time I've found a new one."

Hermione straightened her shoulders and aimed the wand steadily at the both of them. "If you try anything I'll hex you so terribly you'll be vomiting nails for a week."

They both exchanged uneasy glances, but laughed despite their doubt. "You don't want to run around threatening us, Granger." The way she said her name was more of a curse. Her heart clenched and she fought the tears from her eyes. They mean nothing to you. Don't let their words affect who you are. The pure hatred that spewed from Pansy's mouth made Hermione want to take a step back.

"And why is that? I'm absolutely positive I could make you into upholstery if I so wished."

Millicent let out a hearty laugh and started towards her, but Pansy stopped her advance. "Just let her go. I'm not going to waste any more time than necessary threatening a mudblood, no matter how pleasing the outcome may be." Hermione had just spun on her heels when Pansy's silky voice rang out. "Don't think this is over. If I were you I'd mind my surroundings. You won't be so lucky next time."

Hermione thought she'd better keep her wand out if the two girls decided they'd changed their minds, and briskly walked out of the bathroom and down the hallways until she found herself perched on a windowsill, trembling as she realized what a terrible morning she'd had. For Merlin's sake, the day had barely begun and she was feeling so ill the nurse seemed to be the only safe haven to her throbbing head and churning stomach.

With a tremendous effort she managed to pull herself back to her feet and head to her dormitory. She had practically sprinted out of the classroom; she could hardly walk back in. Hermione clutched at her wand and groaned. This was going to be one long year.

Draco Malfoy

He figured he should've shown up to classes, especially it being the first official day back, but Draco just wasn't in the mood for any wand waving or pointless conversation amongst his so called 'peers'. He was in a darker mood. The Dark Lord was on the rise. He knew just how he'd be spending his time, and it wasn't brewing potions. He wished he could go home-or at least he assumed that was what he wanted. But he didn't feel a particularly strong draw towards it. It was no longer a safe haven for him. Not even his parents were safe where they resided.

Instead, Draco found himself sprawled across one of the sofas in the Slytherin Common Room, twirling a bit of lavender he had found laying on the table. He remembered Professor Snape explaining the properties of this particular plant to the class, but all he could seem to gather at the moment had been how pleased he was at his father's decision to have him help the Dark Lord in the future. Merlin, he'd been a fool. Two short years ago he had nearly shat on himself to follow in his father's foolish footsteps, and now he could barely stand to be in the presence of him.

His father had made a mockery of the Malfoy name and he was well on his way to doing the same. Startled brown eyes stared at him through his minds eye and he felt sick. Dirty. Disgusting. Enraged, among other emotions. He was trying to prove a point, but in his frustration he'd forgotten she was a filthy mudblood. He loathed her-despised her with a passion, yet somehow all of those years of hatred and contempt had been thrown to the wind. In his defense he'd been drunk, and was currently still gorging himself with alcohol, but, Merlin, that had backfired. If he'd had the nerve to erase her memories he would've-might've even done worse-but he'd needed to get out of there for obvious reasons. It was social suicide to be seen talking to a Gryffindor, let alone a mudblood. He was absolutely sure anyone in his House would chose a Gryffindor over a mudblood any day.

He groaned and thought of Pansy. If she caught wind of his brief moment of stupidity she would strangle any girl that came within a five mile radius of him. For Merlin's sake, I want to strangle myself. The stupid wench. According to Goyle she'd already cornered some Ravenclaw girl in the bathrooms because she had made the mistake of flirting with Draco. He smirked. Of course he was handsome. Exceedingly so, if he were being modest. He swirled is glass and watched complacently as the amber fluid swirled around. He raised the glass to his lips and cocked his head back, finishing of the liquor.

The drink seemed to sear his throat, but only added to the burning in his head. He wanted to seek the frizzy haired girl out and squeeze her to death. Wrap his hands around her throat, grasp her cheeks, anything as long as he heard her fragile, filth ridden bones crack underneath his head. Until she was so obliterated she'd never even existed. But she did exist, and just that thought alone made his vision blur with near abhorrence.

You're no murderer, Draco... Not yet he wasn't. He didn't have a choice in the matter. He'd never had a choice...

"Why do you even bother coming?" came a voice from the Common Room door. Blaise.

"Pardon?" What was Zabini even doing here? He was disturbing the turmoil that was unraveling inside of his head.

"To Hogwarts. Why bother? Especially if you're not even going to make an effort to make it to classes on the first day. You can stay home and get drunk as well, I presume."

Draco scoffed. Never in his life would he have imagined he'd be getting a lecture on school attendance from Blaise. "Are you bloody serious, right now?"

Blaise walked over to the table in front of him and poured himself a drink. Guess not. Draco stared at him a moment longer. "I suppose you wouldn't mind me asking whyyou're here?"

"Free period... more or less. I hear Pansy's on the lookout. I'm surprised you've let her think she holds much merit in your eyes."

Draco automatically tensed at her name. "What're you playing at?"

"Nothing," replied Blaise as he took another gulp of liquor. "it's just common knowledge that she's just another toy to you. We all know she can't be the only one that spends the nights with you."

"I don't see how that's my problem. Or perhaps I just don't care." he said as he scowled at Zabini. He was ruining his free time by bringing up the very topic that had driven him to stay in the Common Room to begin with.

"I think you'll find that it's okay to care about something every once in a while, Malfoy."

"Is that all then? Can you leave me to be self destructive or must I find somewhere else?"

"Have at it. I've only just gotten here. I'm sure as hell not leaving anytime soon."

Draco raised himself from the couch, straightened his suit, then grabbed the bottle of liquor before leaving the Common Room. Perhaps he could have a look at the Room of Requirement. Within minutes he was facing the entry way to it. The Dark Mark throbbed with anticipation as Draco paced back and forth in front of the room. "Show me the place where everything is hidden."

The ground began to tremble gently and the wall split open, exposing two large wooden doors. His Dark Mark shifted again with more malevolence. Draco Malfoy smiled coldly and pushed open the doors. He would search for one thing and one thing only. The Vanishing Cabinet.

A/N- Suggestions? Typos? Questions or concerns? Leave a review!