I own nothing but the plot.


October 30th, 1998

There was a flurry of activity in the Great Hall as hundreds of owls swooped in through the open upper window. Making their way through, owls dropped mail on the intended targets, delivering letters from home, packages and parcels. Without thinking, Hermione shifted her glass of juice just in time, a soft thud sounding as the morning copy of the Prophet landed in front of her. Finishing off her toast, she unfolded the paper and was about to start reading when a second letter landed on her now empty plate. Furrowing her brow, she placed the paper down and picked up the letter, dropping the red envelope a few seconds later when it started to smoulder. Reaching down to grab her book bag, Hermione rummaged as she searched for her wand, trying to get to it before her time ran out, but luck was not on her side, the smouldering letter tearing open, a booming voice echoing through the hall as the Howler let rip.

"I THOUGHT WE WENT OVER THIS ALREADY. I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'VE IGNORED WHAT WE AGREED ON. I FORBID YOU TO SPEND ANOTHER MINUTE IN THAT ROOM," Ron Weasley's voice boomed through the Great Hall. "YOU WILL MOVE BACK TO GRYFFINDOR TOWER AT ONCE. DON'T MAKE ME HAVE TO COME UP THERE AND SORT THINGS OUT!"

Hermione sank down and tried to disappear as the rant continued, the hall almost silent as everyone listened, trying to see who had received the Howler. A few titters broke out as they realised that it had been sent to the Head Girl, and whispers started when they realised that the voice yelling out belonged to her long-time friend and short time boyfriend.

The Howler shredded itself seconds after finishing, silence engulfing the hall once more before conversation erupted out, still a few laughs and whispers here and there, but no lasting damage to anyone other than Hermione, and her ego. Neville reached over and awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. As the recipient of more than one howler himself from his grandmother, he knew a level of what she felt.

"It'll be alright, Hermione, everyone'll forget soon," he offered, not really sure what else to give her. She looked at him, mouth open as she was about to speak, but it was cut off quickly when a savage laugh trickled out across the table.

"You should do what you're told, Granger, it's the best way to keep your man happy," Lavender snickered, shooting the brunette a taunting smirk from where she was sitting, head close to Parvarti, the pair busy gossiping through breakfast as normal.

Hermione didn't say a word, instead she snatched up her book bag, swinging it over her shoulder as she stormed out of the hall. She didn't see the form rise from another table, didn't see the tall, well built male as he stalked through the hall, robes sweeping behind him in a fashion that would have made Severus Snape proud. She didn't see the grey eyes narrow in a deathly glare towards the gossiping Gryffindors, nor see the sneer on the Slytherin Prince's face when he made eye contact with Lavender Brown.

She did however, feel the strong hand grip her elbow as she made her way up the first few stairs, shoulders shaking as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. The grip wasn't enough to hurt, just enough to stop her in her tracks, her heart skipping a beat as she turned, all words dying on her lips as she realised the hand belonged to Draco Malfoy, the sneer on his face melting away almost instantly into something that she could only describe as concern in his expression, but she wasn't sure what that look in his eyes was.

"Granger, are you okay?" even his tone was laced with concern. She didn't know why he was talking to her now, and neither did he. Both just knew that over the last few weeks they'd come to a truce, cool politeness having turned into a simple consideration for one another.

Hermione nodded without answering verbally, a single tear rolling down her cheek. Malfoy took another step closer, moving up the staircase until he was level with her, her position a few steps higher giving her a boost to match the tall Slytherin. His hand moved from her elbow, raising as he reached out with his thumb outstretched, brushing the tear away before it rolled too far down her cheek.

"You're better than him, Granger. You're better than this," Malfoy's voice was as soft as his thumb as he brushed away a second tear.

"I…" Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off when another voice rang out.

"Hermione? Are you okay?" Ginny Weasley tore from the doors to the Great Hall, hair whipping around as she looked from side to side, trying to figure out where Hermione had gone.

Hermione took a step backwards at the same time as Malfoy did, his hand dropping to his pocket. Clearing his throat, he levelled her with an intense look.

"We need to come up with a new prefect roster by the end of the weekend, Granger. I'll be awaiting your contribution," without waiting for a response, Malfoy shouldered his bag once more before shifting past her, moving up the stairs and heading towards his first class of the day.

Shaking her head to clear it, Hermione turned again, her heart still racing as she could still feel his thumb against her cheek, the touch having been surprisingly comforting.

"Yeah, Gin, I'm here, I'm fine," Hermione gave her friend a weak smile, waiting for her to meet her on the stairs before heading up towards class as well, listening to the tirade as Ginny called her brother every name under the sun for the howler.


Hermione yanked at her tie as she stormed through the portrait hole. Depositing her bag on her desk, she threw the red and gold tie aside before falling onto one of the plush couches with a groan. Her day had started awful with the howler and hadn't improved from there. Muttering expletives under her breath, she rolled the sleeves of her shirt up to her elbows, the usually crisp white fabric creased and untucked from her skirt. Reaching up, she rested a hand over her eyes, groaning again as she slumped back fully.

"Rough day, Granger?" Malfoy quirked a brow as he watched the frazzled witch collapse down, pushing away from his own desk and making his way over to the couch opposite her.

"Shut it, Malfoy," Hermione groused.

"Why do you put up with it?" he asked, leaning forwards and resting his elbows on his knees, watching the witch intently.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Hermione reluctantly opened one eye, her hands both moving up to run her fingers through her hair, inspecting the somehow still well-dressed man interrupting her quiet time.

"You'd be surprised – wait, Granger, is that a tattoo?" Malfoy tilted his head to the side as he watched Hermione's movements, the rolled sleeves of her shirt revealing her forearms. His hand shot out before she could react, his seeker reflexes on display as his fingers closed around her wrist, gently tugging her arm out and twisting it.

"I wanted something good," Hermione blushed, biting her bottom lip as her eyes fell to the pale fingers around her wrist, then to the vibrant phoenix inked on her forearm. The colourful piece had hurt more than she expected but was worth it to cover the scars underneath.

"This is traditional. You…" Malfoy frowned, inspecting the ink permanently placed upon her skin, his eyes widening a moment later, "it was…" he snapped his jaw shut, dropping her wrist.

"There's a patrol roster on the desk. Review it when you get a chance," standing abruptly, he raked his steely gaze over her before shaking his head, disappearing up the stairs to his dormitory, door slamming behind him moments later.

"If all men are like this I'm going to become a fucking lesbian honestly," staring after him, Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times before slumping back into the cushions again with a frustrated groan.