Disclaimer: I disclaim all rights to Harry Potter and its components. They rightfully belong to J.K. Rowling.

Some Things Never Change

She sighed again, looking down at the black blot that had formed under the tip of her quill on the otherwise blank parchment. She couldn't concentrate, and this was a very important essay—Snape had said that it was worth 40 percent of their final, which was worth half of their entire grade! And she could not afford to fail potions—that might lower her chances of becoming Head Girl next year. She suddenly kicked at the foot that was reaching dangerously high up her skirt.

"Ow!"

She rolled her eyes and glared at the person sitting across from her. He looked up from his essay to give her a scowl, and then resumed writing; unfortunately, his foot also resumed its task of crawling up her leg. She clenched her teeth together tightly, trying not to let the sensations on her legs affect her. "Stop it," she commanded, her eyes closed, breathing deeply.

"Why?"

She opened her eyes to glare at him. "It's distracting," she hissed. He just shrugged and continued to write flawlessly. "How can you concentrate like this?" she gasped as his foot slid down the length of her leg, then disappearing. She suddenly frowned. "Why'd you stop?"

He smirked. "You told me to."

She narrowed her eyes. "Prat."

"Nerd."

"Bastard."

"I beg your pardon, but I'm a legitimate child."

"Slytherin scum."

"Gryffindor Mudblood…OW!" The people around them turned to give them a strange look, and then turned quickly back to their work when he glared at them. Then he turned back to the girl in front of him, glaring. "That was uncalled for."

"And so was that name," she replied hotly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an essay to finish. And you are distracting me more than helping me." With that, she put her parchment, quill, and books back into her bags, and stood up. Before she could go though, she was pulled back down to the other side of the table, so that she was sitting on the occupant's lap.

"Don't forget tonight," he whispered huskily into her ear, nibbling a little. One hand was placed on her back to keep her from moving, the other traveling painstakingly slow up her inner thigh.

She took shaky breaths, trying to prevent a moan. "People will see," she managed, half whispering and half moaning. It felt so good, but the other occupants of the room might see them, even though they were too afraid of him at the moment to even look in this direction.

He simply pressed her closer to him, his hand now dangerously high up her thigh. "Tonight," he breathed into her ear before trailing his lips down her throat, both teeth and tongue working to bruise and soothe the skin.

"Stop!" she squealed as silently as possible. "You'll leave marks!" Not that she would mind, but she didn't want her friends to see the marks and start asking questions. He suddenly stood up, pulling her up with him. Not expecting the change of position, she almost lost her balance had he not had his hands on her waist.

He kissed her lightly on the lips, murmuring, "I'll see you tonight."

"But I've got to finish this essay!" But he was already walking away, ignoring her statement. She groaned in frustration, and then looked around to make sure no one had noticed their public show of affections. "Git. What makes him think I'd actually meet him tonight? I really need to finish this essay. So it's not due until next month, but he's already halfway done, and that is just not acceptable. I will not let him best me in anything. Well, actually, he's already bested me in potions, but that's only because Snape favors the Slytherins, and especially despises the Gryffindors."

"Are you talking to the Fat Lady?" said a voice from behind her. "Because I don't think she's listening."

She looked up and noticed that she was in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady—who was busy counting something,—having been too caught up in her own ranting to notice that she had returned from the library. She snorted and said, "Of course she's not listening. She's usually the one doing the talking. Fairy Wings."

The boy behind her chuckled. "True. But at least she won't try to insult everything you say, like the Slytherins."

She rolled her eyes. "Really Harry, Slytherins aren't that bad!" Well, at least one of them isn't. She smiled to herself at the thought.

"Call Skeeter! Our Gryffindor lioness is starting to pity the Slytherins? Or worse, sympathize with them?" Harry gasped in mock horror.

"What?" bellowed a boy who's face now matched the color of his flaming red hair. "You're siding with the Slytherins now?"

She rolled her eyes again. "Hardly. Harry's just acting his stupid self." But then again, I guess I am kind of siding with the Slytherins. Well, one of them anyways. She started to walk up the stairs to her dorm.

"Where are you headed? Ron and I were just going to go fly. Don't you want to come?" Harry asked, holding out his broom.

She waved them off. "I have an essay to do." She proceeded up to her dorm, leaving the two boys to roll their eyes and mutter about her and her studies. She sighed. If she didn't finish her essay now, she would just be distracted later on. Rubbing her temples, she opened the door to her dorm, ready to spend the entire evening to at least finish most of her potions essay.

She glanced at her clock, which read 11:50. She rubbed her eyes and put her quill down. Well, two-thirds of the way finished with her essay, and not a bad essay, she thought. Ten more minutes before I have to go down. But she frowned. "Why do I have to meet him anyways? I should just go to sleep. That'll teach him for his Mudblood comment."

So she changed into gray sweatpants and a black tank top, sliding into her warm bed. But she couldn't sleep; she kept staring at her clock, which now read 11:55. She groaned and threw the covers back from her bad. "Damn him." She grabbed a cloak and walked out of her dorm, walked down the steps as quietly as possible, and exited the Gryffindor common room.

"Damn him. Why am I even coming out again? This is insane. I could get caught. Well, I could just say I was doing my Prefect patrols. Then again, I could be in my warm bed sleeping right now, instead of going down to the cold, dark dungeons just so I can have a snogging session with the Prince of Slytherin Scum. I must be nuts."

"You must be, talking to yourself in the middle of a dark corridor at such an unMerlinly hour."

She clapped her hands on her mouth to prevent herself from screaming, turning around quickly, eyes wide and breathing deeply. Calming down, she crinkled her nose at the person in front of her. "Don't scare me like that! And next time you want to have a midnight rendezvous with me, at least greet me properly."

He just rolled his eyes. "Now why should I do that? It's much more fun to see you so scared." He smirked at her, taking steps towards her.

She took a step back for each of his advances, until her back hit the wall. "Well, since I don't find that too amusing, I guess I will just be going now." But before she could go anywhere, his hands came to rest on the wall on either side of her, keeping her pinned to the wall with his body. "If you are trying to intimidate me, it's not working," she growled, glaring at him.

"I'm not." Then he kissed her hard and hungrily, making her moan as his tongue worked its way into her mouth, delving deeper. He slid one hand behind her waist, pressing her firmly to him, the other hand grabbing the back of her head to tilt her head, allowing his tongue more access into her mouth.

She moaned again as his tongue dove deeper, her hands wrapping themselves around his necks, one hand fingering its way up his neck and into his hair. Feeling him shiver under her touch, she started to massage his scalp with her fingers, eliciting a throaty growl, causing her to giggle.

He broke away from her, leaving her to gasp for air as his mouth found her ear. "What's so funny?" he whispered as he blew into her ear.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she mewed quietly when he started to nibble from her ear to the base of her throat. "Nothing," she breathed out, hands hanging loosely around his neck, eyes closed, head bent to one side, just enjoying the feelings he ignited within her— except the feeling she should be feeling towards him right now was anger for his comment earlier this evening. But she couldn't concentrate when his tongue was moving along her skin like that. Then when his mouth left her skin and his body pulled back slightly, she whimpered and opened her eyes slowly.

He smirked when she moved towards him, wanting to kiss him again, but he stopped her by putting more distance between there bodies. She pouted at him, causing him to want nothing more than to ravish her on the spot. But he held himself, reaching into his pocket to take out a little box. When he handed it to her, she looked at him confusedly. "Open it," he urged, putting the box into her hands.

She looked from the box to his expressionless face; but his eyes held many emotions—happiness, comfort, anticipation, fear, and love. She smiled and took the box from him, slowly opening the velvet lid, only to gasp at the sight in her hands. "It's…it's beautiful."

The necklace that lay inside was a silver pendant of a dragon, its eyes glowing emerald green. She was pretty sure the dragon itself was made of platinum and the eyes were real emeralds, and the chain was probably platinum too. After all, he was loaded, and he expected nothing but the best. "Thank you," she whispered, her eyes shining happily as she looked up at him. "But where did you get this?"

"Family heirloom. Mother told me to give it to a special person, because the necklace is meant to show the strength of the bond between the two people," he answered as he brushed her bushy hair aside to place the necklace on her. "Beautiful," he whispered.

"Me? Or the necklace?" she teased. She knew that while he gave her the gift as an apology for his earlier comment, he also felt deeply enough for her to present her with such a special gift.

"The necklace, of course. Who would ever call you beautiful?" he retorted.

She smirked. "I seem to recall that you called me beautiful the first time you kissed me." She put her hands on the back of his neck, bringing him close enough so that their noses were touching.

"I was drunk," he grunted, letting his lips brush against hers.

"Ah, I remember now," she whispered as his lips pulled back a little, "you were, because your breath smelled terrible. Not like it smells any better now."

"Better than yours," he replied, licking her lips.

"Mmmm," she murmured in agreement, pulling his head down so that she could kiss him correctly.

"Mreowr." The two jumped apart and looked down to see Mrs. Norris glaring up at them before running off, most likely to find Filch.

"Great," she sighed as she rested her head on his chest. "Now Filch is probably going to come running, screaming his head off about how two students shouldn't go around snogging in dark corridors, in the dungeon of all places, in the middle of the ni—"

She was cut off with his lips on hers. Then when he pulled away, he said, "You talk too much."

"I know. It's a gift." She giggled when he rolled his eyes. Then they turned their heads as they heard footsteps and whispering in the direction that Mrs. Norris had run off in. "He's coming."

He nodded and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "Off you go then, little girl. What would people think if they caught the Gryffindor lioness in the dungeons in the middle of the night and with me no less?" He winked and smirked at her.

"They would think that the Prince of Slytherin was getting soft, whipped by a muggle-born," she retorted, then kissing his cheek before backing away slowly, eyes teasing.

"Well then, I think we should return to our dormitories before they get such silly thoughts in their heads," he replied. "Or, we could both go back to my dormitory." He raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"As if I would want to go to your dorm," she said, smirking. But before they could finish their argument, they heard Filch's voice.

"Students out of bed! Probably down here sucking at each others' faces!"

He made a face of disgust. She giggled quietly, and giving him a quick glance, ran towards the stairs leading out of the dungeons, only to hear his fading voice explain to Filch that he was a Prefect patrolling for "young, hormone-driven teenagers trying to get into each others' pants in the middle of the night." She rolled her eyes at his comment.

"That's a pretty necklace," Ron mumbled through his mouth full of food. "Where'd you get it?"

She shrugged. "Got it this morning."

"From a secret admirer?" Harry teased.

She smiled. "I suppose." Their relationship is a secret, so the necklace could technically be from a "secret" admirer.

"Who is it?" Ron asked, eyes narrowing.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, if I knew, then he wouldn't be much of a secret admirer now, would he?" So maybe she did know who it was, and he wasn't exactly a secret to her, but that wasn't the point.

As the trio got up and walked out of the hall, Ron sighed, "Double potions with Slytherins. I think they do this just to torture us."

"Strangely though, Malfoy and his pack have been bothering us less and less," Harry commented, looking thoughtful. "Remember yesterday? All he did was glare at us and call us Pothead, Weasel, and Hermit."

She rolled her eyes at the memory. When she had asked him about that, he just shrugged and said that he couldn't find anything else to say so he changed Kermit to Hermit; of course, she still wasn't quite sure how he knew about a Muggle children's show. But at least he didn't call her Mudblood anymore—well, except for last night. "It's better than Mudblood," she voiced out loud, and her companions nodded in agreement.

"What are the odds, here they come now," Ron said, scowling as Malfoy, tailed by Crabbe and Goyle, walked up to the potions entrance. The three Slytherins stopped in front of the Gryffindor boys who stood protectively in front of their friend, but in front of the doorway as well. "Malfoy," Ron growled.

"Weasley, Potter," he answered, looking at them indifferently. "If you'll excuse us, we'd like to get to Snape's class on-time." Surprised that he had spoken to them civilly, Ron and Harry moved aside to let him through. "Gran—Hermione," Draco said as he stopped in front of her.

"Draco," she answered, hiding her smile. "So we're on first name basis now, are we?"

"For today, to make up for my lack of respect to your lackey," he replied quietly so that only she could hear.

She frowned. "What?"

"Malfoy! Stop bothering her!" Ron said as he stood in front of Hermione again.

Hermione sighed. "Ron, it's okay."

"No, it's not," he said hotly. "You never know—he might try to pay you to get you to be nice to him so that it'll look like he has real friends."

"Ron!" Hermione was shocked. Draco hadn't even said anything and Ron just starting throwing insults at him. Well, Draco used to do the same thing, but they were past such immaturity—or so she had thought.

Instead of letting Ron's comment affect him, Draco smirked slyly. "At least I have the money to get whatever I want. Whereas you, well, you'd probably be happy if someone paid you to shag them, although whoever would be desperate enough to do that?" The rest of the Slytherins gathered in the classroom laughed at Ron, whose face was starting to redden.

Hermione glared at Draco, who raised an eyebrow at her. But before anybody could do anything, Snape walked into the classroom and barked, "Sit! And 25 points from Gryffindor for disrupting the class!"

Draco walked past a glaring Hermione and smirked at her. "He's probably jealous that someone could afford such a beautiful gift for such a beautiful girl, Hermione."

Hermione sighed in defeat, knowing better than to try to fight with him.Asshe wondered if Ron really was jealous,she realized that Draco had just complimented her in public. She grinnedinwardly as she noticed the majority theclass staring atDraco in shock.

"Well, I guess he's changed," she whispered to herself as she sat down. Then she heard a crash behind her and turned around to see Ron on the floor, sitting on top of the wooden pile thatwas once achair. She turned to look at the laughing Slytherins, seeing some of them patting Draco on the back. Hermione sighed and rubbed her temples. "Then again, some things never change."

Author's Notes:

I've been reading so many DHr stories that I decided to write one. I like the ones where you have to wonder about how they got together, especially if you're the writer (because then you don't have to worry about all the details of how they get together without seeming to OOC). Since there aren't enough of those, I decided to write one myself. You'll have to excuse the American taste, as I'm not British and have never been to Britain. I hope you enjoyed!