So, do any of you have Pottermore accounts yet? If so, are you really excited? And if not, never fear! While I was staying up until 3am a few nights ago waiting for the clue, I thought 'wouldn't it be great to get some accounts special for my reviewers?' Well, I normally don't think that diplomatically, but I picked up 2 extra anyway! So... I don't really know how to do this, because I only have 2 and there are probably a lot of you who want one... So give me contest ideas, people! :D

Chapter goes to- the pokemon Pichu- because they're so tiny and small. And they can't really do anything until they evolve... But at least they're not as bad as magicarps!

And jbpink6- NOT because they asked, but because they found an "error" that I forgot Orla. I was only counting the ravenclaws in Harry's year—Orla is 3 years below them.

"You... wouldn't want to come with me to Hogsmeade, would you?"

I froze. I know I was thinking about that question, but I would never say it out loud. It had to be him that asked it.

"You are still talking, to me, right," I asked, a bit dumbfounded at his question.

"No, I'm just muttering away at my wand like that loony ol' Lockheart," he replied sarcastically.

He was obviously taking this question fairly lightly, and I had no clue how to respond. "As much of an honour I imagine it could be—to other girls—I'm afraid that I have a one-on-one lesson with Professor McGonagall that night," I diplomatically answered. "So I couldn't possibly."

He looked at me, dumfounded, letting his enchanted quill—cheating—take over doing notes for him. "Are you really that much of an insufferable genius that you're taking up teachers' time over holiday?"

I smirked. "Insufferable genius! Where'd you get that one?"

"Snape, I'd assume. I pick up a bit of material from him time to time."

"No," I smiled knowingly, "Snape calls me an insufferable know-it-all. You called me an insufferable genius."

He brought his hand back to his quill, pretending not to notice. "So?"

"Can't you see, Draco? You're jealous of my brains! Because no matter what I do, I'll always be smarter than you! Not to mention I'm a mudblood," I said triumphantly, and just a bit rubbing it in his face.

"Being a mudblood isn't everything, Hermione!" he sneered, alarming the two rows in any direction of us to our conversation. I was taken aback.

"It seemed to have been everything up until now," I sneered back.

"It's not! You have this... little stereotypical Draco stuck up in your know-it-all noggin, and you can't get it out of your head! Who you think I am is just a mini version of my father. You wouldn't even bother to take a good look at me and see. I'm not Crabbe, Hermione. Or Goyle. Or even my father." His tone changed to a scoff, "And you call yourself the smartest student here. Cor, you should really at least know that much." He didn't even pretend to pay attention to class, letting his quill still do the work. He brought out a small-leather bound book and started reading, leaving me just staring in disbelief.

Exactly what just happened?

I turned down Draco's invitation to the party for McGonagall, completely crushing him to the ground. Told him he was just jealous of me this whole time, berated him for complimenting me, and told him he was just his no-good father... It hit me like the Hogwarts Express. What had I just done? Was... I the bad guy now? Had my role completely swapped with Draco? Damnit! I cursed over and over in my head. I never thought I would be on this end of the stick—and without even noticing it!

Is this how easy it is to be Draco-ish and not notice?

"Draco... I already know that you're not Crabbe or Goyle. You're much smarter than them, which is part of the reason I hate you so much. You don't just insult me, you challenge me as well! You don't just have pathetic little insults, you're really cunning when it comes down to it. For your father... well, I really know him for being the mastermind behind you." He looked up from his book at me, while I didn't notice because I was in a trance, looking at the desk while ranting. "But, to convince myself that I'm not being the bad guy... I will try to get my idea of you out of my head and learn how you 'really are.'" I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding as he smiled behind his book.

"Completely for educational purposes, I'm sure."

"Of course," I answered with a similar smirk.

Slughorn concluded his lecture as the bell was about to ring. "And just to let you know, I was always more of a mommy's boy," Draco said while packing up at the bell.

I audibly laughed, a bit covered up by the bell. After today, there were only a few days of school left then two days before the Hogwarts Express took the students back to Kings Cross Station. The year was passing by much too fast for my liking. The rest of the day, however, would go by rather slowly. I only had one more class today, and teachers had already stopped extra credit opportunities for the holidays.

I started packing up slowly, seeing no reason to leave class in the rush of the passing period. I wanted to catch up with Ron to at least tell him I wasn't planning on coming to the Burrows this year. I went up to his desk where he was waiting on Sally-Anne.

"Ron, I haven't talked to you in a while," I said happily.

"'Mione! How long has it been?" he replied with a smile. "It's really sad that you, Harry and I only have one class together this year. But I guess it's only a matter of time before you-know-who does something and we go gallivanting around on some quest," he finished, rolling his eyes.

"Gallivanting? You sure are using big words now, Ron." I was proud of my handiwork. After so long, some of my habits had finally rubbed off on him.

"Actually, my little Annie here has taught me how much words can help. I might even be able to rival that little git Malfoy pretty soon."

Needless to say, I was a bit put off. After years and years of telling Ron to take classes seriously, a random Hufflepuff prances in and 'enlightens' him. "Well I just wanted to let you know that I'm declining your offer to come to the Burrows this year."

He didn't bother to act interested or ask why, he just said, "Well that's a bit of a relief. We all love having you around, but I invited Annie—because she has nowhere else to go during holiday—and I don't think mum would accept her the same with your brains still around." He flashed a big smile at me, not noticing how he just implied he didn't want me around.

I turned around and started walking. "See you around then!" he called after me as I headed toward the door.

"Sure," I replied, just loud enough for him to hear. I passed the threshold of the door only to get frightened by something popping out to my left.

"Boo," it said. I shrieked. I never had been too good with alarming things. It was Draco, and he stood there, laughing. I hit him hard with the paperback book I had in my hands.

"Honestly, Draco! This is why you're. Freaking. Evil!" I muttered between hits—hitting harder on the last two words.

"So, the ginger doesn't like you anymore?" he asked, obviously not understanding the dynamics of friends (because he has none).

"No. He just doesn't understand. I'm sure you've seen that he's not the longest quill in the inkwell."

"Yeah, because I have the longest quill," he said, walking next to me with a smirk I didn't see.

Knowing Draco was at least a bit smarter, I replied, "I'll admit, your quill is a bit longer—" I belatedly clued into what he was saying, and I shook my head slowly at my stupidity. "You're not talking about brain capacity anymore, are you?"

"Not one bit," he smiled.

Retorting, I replied, "So is this the Draco you want me to think is you? The pervert who makes dirty jokes all the time?"

"At least it's better than mini-Lucius."

"Do you hate your father, Draco?" I asked. He always talked about him with a sneer when I was around. Thinking back, it had only started happening around forth year.

"I love him as a father. No more, no less. You probably love your father more than I love mine, but he's still my dad. So I guess I just have an ingrained love for him."

"I don't think I've ever heard you talk about your father that way."

He hesitated for a moment. "Actually, it was only just recently that I realized he was skewed. A bit off on his beliefs, if you ask me."

"So... you're not going to become a death eater?"

He grimaced. "Even if I didn't want to, they'd make me."

"They?" I questioned.

"My parents, other death eaters... Voldemort. Whoever it took to talk sense into me. If they couldn't, they'd threaten to kill my parents—or even Blaise, maybe. If I still said no, they would kill them. It's no secret that my father's gotten on the Dark Lord's bad side a few too many times. And the only reason they keep my mother around is because she's Bellatrix's sister."

If I had a drink at that moment, I would have spit it out. "Your mother is Bellatrix's sister?"

"Yeah. They were both daughters of Cygnus and Druella Black."

I could swear my eye would start twitching soon. "Black? As in... Sirius Black? Harry's Godfather?"

He started laughing at my disbelief. "Yes. The traitor chap's my second uncle! Not only that, but Potter himself could be found on my family tree! It's possible that my great-great-grandparents had a daughter who married James Potter's father."

I hesitated "...This stuff is messed up." I said simply.

"You would not believe how hard it would be to find a 'proper wife' that isn't related to me somehow. My mother was lucky to find my father. Otherwise, she could have married Jeremy Burke—her great-great-aunt's grandson. But now, they may 'highly suggest' that I marry his daughter."

"Is this how all pure-bloods are?" I asked in disbelief. Growing up as a muggle-born had no learning disabilities, other than the dynamics of a wizarding family. I tried to learn from the Weasleys, but because they're such a muggle-obsessed family, it was hard to really know how much is different.

"Most. Then there are those who stray and marry muggle-borns." Draco stopped talking for a moment. "In my case, that would mean being burnt out of the family tree. And possible death, can't forget that. If I'm a traitor to my pure blood, then I'm a traitor to you-know-who."

"You don't think that's a bit harsh," I snorted, laughing despite the seriousness of the conversation.

"You muggle-borns get your punishments through life. Blood traitors get theirs by death. What comes around goes around, 'Mione."

"And I just thought you were a spoiled rotten brat if you were a pure-blood!"

"Well... that too," he said with a bit of a smile. "Well, I'm off to Astrology, you foul bint!"

"Farewell, then, you prattish ferret!"

At first, looking back on this chapter I was just going to scrap it. But then I saw how much research and work it took to go through the whole Black family tree and find a plausible solution for everything. And I wrote Ron pretty well in character, I think :D

Okay, for those of you who wrote that you got to meet a famous person: how do you get to meet all these people? It's beyond my imagination!

For others, give me a good, easy idea for a contest. I don't want it to be discriminatory to different time zones *cough*likePottermore*cough* So... yeah!

You are all amazing :D Just thought you might want to know.