Chapter 35

Draco stayed in the common room after Hermione went up stairs, sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. Why had he opened his stupid mouth? He knew the answer to that. He was simply so eager for forgiveness that he didn't care who he asked for it from. He just wanted to somehow make up for all the times he'd let his father's prejudices command his behavior and speech. But, instead of apologizing to someone who would make him feel better about it, he'd stupidly opened himself up to the one person who would never consider forgiving him.

He'd just done too much to Granger. The wounds were too deep to be healed. As much as he craved forgiveness or even just to be karmically neutral, he still didn't want to like her. He didn't know what had possessed him to open up to her like that. It was a fool's errand, trying to win her favor. She didn't like anything that didn't have a cover, pages and ink.

Still, she had seemed fine with spending time with him, up until something in her brain convinced her otherwise. He could understand your brain getting in the way. It happened to him all the time.

Ugh, why am I still thinking about her? Draco thought to himself. His mind had worked its way around from the bookworm he barely knew back to that day on the train when he'd accidentally watched her get dressed, and to the flash of her hair when she got out of the car at the house next door.

Something was putting her in his path, but he didn't know if it was fate, or some sort of punishment, or maybe a chance at redemption. Either way, he knew it wouldn't end well.

Finally tired after a long day, Draco went up to his dorm, and tried to go to the bathroom before bed. Of course, the door was locked, and he banged on it for a while, angry at her for locking him out, but eventually he just gave up and lay down. Just before going to sleep though, he pulled out the journal, and wrote:

I know you're probably in bed already, just wanted to say sorry we couldn't talk tonight. I had a lot of homework to get out of the way. Maybe we can talk tomorrow?

Night

Feeling like he had finally met someone who wouldn't judge him terribly, Draco went to sleep for the few hours he had left before breakfast.

Hermione had been up since 7 that morning, but midnight came without her being too tired. After her long bath, she took her time to dry and straighten her hair. Once she was happy with it, she placed a freezing charm on her hair to keep it from curling in her sleep.

She lay down and tossed and turned for a few minutes, before remembering to check her journal. She hadn't thought about Jake all evening. She saw a small note from him, but she had no idea when he'd written it, probably hours ago.

She decided not to respond just yet. She would write back to him tomorrow. After all, she would hate for the journal to light up in his dorm and wake up him or his roommates.

No, Hermione just tucked the journal back under her pillow and tried to force herself to sleep.

The week went by quickly for both Hermione and Draco. Draco practiced using the Room of Requirement to do his bidding, while Hermione focused on getting through class with Draco without questioning his entire being. They didn't speak for the rest of the week, and the one other time they were required to be near each other was the prefect's meeting on Thursday night.

AS it was the first official meeting at Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore met with the Prefects and Heads. He congratulated them all on their appointment, or retention of their titles. After congratulations were taken care of, he gave them some words of wisdom.

"As the year passes, for some of you it is the final, some merely the penultimate, remember that the real magic in Hogwarts is the opportunity to live out your dreams, to realize your fantasies, and to explore your full potential, whether that potential be of an academic variety or perhaps something a little closer to the heart." Hermione could have sworn his eyes twinkled at her when he said the last part. He continued, "No matter where your Hogwarts journey takes you, let us make sure that the dreams, fantasies and potential of one student never interrupt that of another. That is where you come in; keeping our halls safe and keeping our students orderly – within reason that is." Albus Dumbledore smiled at them all once more, then backed out the door and left them with Professor McGonagall.

"Well," Professor McGonagall began, peering at the students over her square spectacles. "Another year has begun, and I am happy to see you've all made it back. I'm sure you've all gotten well enough acquainted with who is who between the train and the first few days of rounds, so I won't bother with any introduction nonsense. Instead, let's get down to business."

"Rounds have begun this week," she went on. "Have you run into any problems or confusion with the schedule?" Someone in front raised a hand. "Yes, Mr. Smith?"

"Will we be able to modify the rounds schedule if they interfere with Quidditch practice?"

"I'm sure that will be possible, but as I have 3 Quidditch captains in here, I'd like to say do try to schedule around your rounds as much as possible. Prefect should be your first responsibility. Now, anyone else?" No one raised a hand or called out, so the professor continued. "Alright, as you know, it is the prefects' responsibility to plan the Halloween ball for seventh years. Those of you who are not in your seventh year, I'm sorry that you'll be wasting your time on something you will not be attending, but there will be no younger students allowed unless they have a seventh year date."

"Now, the usual theme for the Halloween Ball is a masquerade. Does anyone oppose to that theme?"

No one spoke up to oppose it, or offered a better alternative, so McGonagall went on, "Very well, that them has worked just fine in the past, seeing as it fits with Halloween as well. Now I will need each of you to pair up into groups to handle each of the following: decorations, music, menu preparation, invitations, and cleanup. I suggest that the cleanup crew be sixth years, and yes, you will be able to recruit volunteers to help you in these areas, you will simply be in charge of those areas."

Everyone discussed for a while and came to the consensus that it would be easiest to stick within their prefect pairs so they could work within their common rooms. Luna and Michael took decorations, Colin and Romilda took menu, Malcolm and Astoria took music, and Zacharias and Sarah took clean-up, which left Hermione and Draco with invitations. Hermione had a feeling she'd be hand-addressing envelopes all alone.

The meeting ended, and everyone went their separate ways. It was after dinner, but Hermione didn't feel like running to the library just yet. The meeting had been held in the room just off the Great Hall where the staff usually had their meetings, so it wasn't a long walk back to her common room. As she got a clear view of the door, she was let down to see Draco was there, attempting to solve the riddle and gain entry.

She stepped up just in time to hear the riddle.

The man who invented it doesn't want it.

The man who bought it doesn't need it.

The man who needs it doesn't know it.

What is it?

Hermione stayed quiet, and let Draco think. She wanted to see if he was really as smart as he swore he was.

Draco was very quiet for a few minutes before answering, "A coffin."

The sphinx nodded and the door opened. Hermione made to follow Draco inside, and he must not have noticed her, because he jumped about a foot in the air.

"Merlin! Granger what the hell are you doing?" Draco asked, clutching his chest.

"Going inside," she replied with a snide smile, and pushed past him into the room.

Hermione sat down at the large table in the common room and pulled out some parchment and a quill and began to draft an idea for the invitations.

"Don't you think you should get some input on that from me?" Draco asked quietly.

"I assumed you wouldn't want to do something so girly." Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

"If you could avoid giggling and squealing during the process, I'd be glad to help," he said with a smirk. "Besides, I have etiquette training. I know what these should say."

"Oh and I don't have any manners, huh?" she challenged.

"I wouldn't know, you've never exhibited any in front of me," he said with a huge eye roll.

"I'll have you know I'm very polite!" Hermione scoffed.

"Right, because slapping someone in the face is polite," Draco replied pointedly.

"Ooh, Draco Malfoy you have no right to lecture me on manners you little prat!"

"Not so little anymore though, am I?" Draco asked, walking up to the table. From Hermione's seated position he did tower over her, and standing up she assumed he'd have her by almost a foot.

"Let's try this again," Hermione said, begging her heart to beat steadily and her breathing to slow. "Malfoy-" she began. Draco cleared his throat. "What?"

"It's either Draco or Mr. Malfoy."

Hermione sighed and started over, saying "Draco, would you like to assist me with the invitations for the ball?"

"No, that's house elf work," Draco replied with a smirk, kicking back on the back two legs of the chair with his fingers laced behind his head.

Hermione whacked him on the arm with her stack of parchment, but this time, unlike earlier that week, he simply laughed it off and dropped his haughty pose.

"Okay, okay, I'll help," He said, laughing. "I was kidding!"

"Glad to have the help," Hermione said gratefully. "I have never had to write anything this formal. Got an idea of the basic structure for something like this?"

"Sure," Draco said pulling the parchment to him. He began to scribble in a strangely beautiful yet manly script, as she pondered the other logistics.

"I'm sure I know a copying spell that we can use. The only hard part will be addressing them to all the seventh years. I mean, we only need a name and a house, but that's a lot of names."

"I'm sure we'll think of something," Draco said, shrugging. "If only we had a computer with a printer that would work here."

"Yeah," Hermione said, before catching herself. "You know about muggle computers?"

"Yes…" he replied slowly, "I'm not stupid."

"Oh," Hermione said. "Yeah, of course you do."

Draco finished the last line with flourish and shoved the parchment to Hermione's edge of the table. "Let me know what you think," he said.

Head Boy Draco Malfoy

Head Girl Hermione Granger

Invite you to a Masquerade Ball in honor of your final year

At

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry

October 31, 1998

8:00 PM

Formal attire and masks required

"Pretty good," Hermione said, nodding. "But it's too long to fit on the front of a card without being tiny. If we put our names on the same line, I think it'll just fit," she added, with a smirk for good measure.

"Fine," Draco said, rolling his eyes, but not in a completely malicious way.

"Well, that's settled, just have to find the right charms to produce them, then envelopes, address and take them to the owlery."

"We're ahead of the curve then," Draco said, "Because they don't need to be delivered until mid-October."

"Sorry if I'm a little eager, but I know class work will pick up by then, so better safe than sorry," Hermione said, shrugging.

A few minutes passed before Hermione and Draco realized that they were sitting with their sworn enemy. Hermione was shocked to see she had a smile on her face, and even more shocked that Draco had spent that much time in her vicinity. Something broke in that moment, and they both quickly went to their individual rooms, seeking solace to sort out what had just happened.