Okay, for one, I don't own the Phantom of the Opera, nor do I own Harry Potter. As much as I wish I did, I don't. Seriously people, if I owned them to you REALLY think I'd be writing a fan fiction about MY OWN CHARACTERS?! I didn't think so.

I guess you could call this fan fiction a "cross over" because I do use the basic story line of Gaston Leroux's "The Phantom of the Opera", but in many ways it is, however, not a cross over, because the Characters don't bleed into each other's stories, or anything of the likes. But Whatever.

Alllllrrrighty than. I'll be doing shout outs for each chapter (obviously; what author/authoress doesn't like to write back to their adoring fans ^^), so keep them reviews comin'. Any who, let's get on to chapter one.

Chapter One: A zero

There was the slow, yet somewhat silent dripping noise that could be heard throughout the large room on this particular afternoon. Upon each desk that sat in one of the many "Examination Rooms" throughout Hogwarts, there was a large scroll of parchment, which each student sat before, scribbling madly away at. It was just after the Christmas break, and therefore, exactly 5 months and 3 weeks, two days, away from the N.E.W.Ts, and all of the teachers had arranged pre-exams to "help them prepare for the tests that could change their lives". Each student had worked extremely hard, and each student had a pretty good chance at passing. But this year, the tests were much harder than expected, and 17 year old Harry Potter sat with his quill in his mouth, watching as the grains of sand ticked away the seconds left until his Defence Against the Dark Arts test was to be handed in.

Looking down at his test, he counted off each particular answer he knew he had right. 23. The total amount of questions on his test was... 61. Pulling the feather out of his mouth, he began scribbling away at the other 46 questions to be completed. It wasn't like he hadn't studied at all, for he had. The groans and sighs from his left and right told him that he wasn't the only one finding this test difficult. Three rows away, Hermione Granger finished her last question, and put down her quill, giving a definite nod that she had gotten everything right, down to the last formation of each letter. It may only be a practice exam, but to her it still counted. She glanced up at Neville Longbottom, who was biting his lip in frustration, his page still blank.

Rolling up her parchment she pushed herself out of the seat, and began walking carefully up the aisle towards the teacher's desk. This year's DADA teacher was slightly... normal. He was a small man with small beady black eyes, large, thick, owl-rimmed glasses, and a very large nose. He would make you sit perfectly straight. And when you were called on, you had to stand up with you're textbook rested on open palms, and read harder than you've ever read before. All his lessons were the same, all the lextures, all the readings. It was all in one ear and out the other. Even Hermione, who loved the subject dearly, found herself pulling behind like the others.

But this test. It was something else. Each question, as simple as it was, had to be answered to perfection. That meant no spelling mistakes, no errors, ever detail there. Professor Havelock was a mean old grouch, who made you stay in his office, late into the night, practicing the straight cursive he expected you to use in each of the written lessons: even while taking notes. Hermione reached the front desk and held out her booklet.

"I'm done Professor." She said in a timid voice. There was a pause of silence, before Havelock turned his head and eyed her and the paper in her hand, with the same glint in his eye that an eagle would have looking at a helpless mouse. Hermione drew back slightly as she watched his Adam's apple bob in his throat.

"Impossible. You can't be done so early." Flat out, no questions, no ifs, no ands, no buts. Sighing, the girl shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"But Professor, I AM done. You can even check it." Stretching her arm out farther, she pressed the exam booklet into his hand. Silence. Opening up to the first page, he quickly read the first answer, scanning it over a few times. Shaking his head sadly, he took the paper in his two hands, and ripped it up, letting the shreds of parchment flutter slowly to the floor. Hermione could feel every pair of eyes of the whole seventh year group staring at her. Her eyes filled with water, and somewhere behind her, the constant drip, drip, seemed to get louder with every splash it made on the flagstone flooring.

"Professor-" She began.

"Miss. Granger, you know I do not allow cheating in my class. You receive a zero." Taking out his wand, he pointed it at a large roll of parchment on the desk in front of him. A large luminous zero formed beside the name Granger, Hermione. Her breath was caught in her chest as she tried to understand. Cheating? He had accused her of cheating? How dare he! A few desks back, Harry's large green eyes grew wide behind his glasses. The tension between Professor Havelock and Hermione had always been... intense. Almost, if not even more than the tension between him and Snape.

"How dare you accuse me of cheating! I studied hard like the rest of the class, and I should deserve a mark for my exam!" Someone clucked their tongue to the roof of their mouth in disapproval.

"And how dare you speak to me like that. 30 points from Gryffindor. Now out of my class Miss. Granger." 30 points. Hermione blinked, and as she did, a tear slid down her cheek. She stood there, defenceless and hopeless, wondering what to do.

"Professor Havelock, I wasn't cheating. Please, if you'd like I could re-"

"ANOTHER 30 POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR. OUT!"

"Pro-"

"I SAID OUT!" The word out echoed through the room, drowning out the dripping of water. Her eyes filled to the brim with tears, Hermione turned on her heel and walked like a dead man on Death Row down the aisle. Her paces were quick and sharp, yet she restrained them as though the moment she walked through the doors, her life was over.

His eyes wandering from his completed page, Draco Malfoy sneered as the Muggle-born left the room, all her exam work equalling nothing. He didn't even feel the slightest bit sorry for her. Finally, revenge. And yet, somewhere deep, deep inside of him, there was something there. Guilt? No. Pity? Of course not. But there was something. And that something was just enough to make him want to flee after her. And do what? Talk to her, calm her down, and whip away her tears of fury? No. But he wanted to do something. Not comfort her, but... something. He was a Malfoy, and Malfoy's didn't talk to filthy Mudblood's, let alone comfort them.

Turning his head back to his paper, he began to scribble again, trying to figure out the next problem.

---

Hermione sat on her bed, watching the dark storm clouds off in the distance. They were coming in quickly, soaring across the steal grey sky. Her ears still rang from Havelock's last words. A silent tear ran down her cheek as she let the scene run it's self over and over in her mind's eye. Why her? Why did it have to be her that finished the test first and not... Malfoy. She had worked hard to study for that exam, and she deserved to get a better grade than a zero. She sighed. Life at this point was so unfair.

"Hermione?" The familiar male voice emptied her head of all thoughts, jolting her back to reality. Just out side the window, the storm clouds had grasped a large distance in-between the Forbidden Forest and Hogwarts. After a few moments of not responding, she felt a soft thump on her bed, and two freckled arms embraced her. Looking up slightly, she stared into the blue eyes of Ronald Weasly.

"Ron..." she started, meaning to tell him off for coming into the girl's dorm. But she couldn't manage, for more tears slid down her cheeks and she choked on the sobs that welled up in her chest.

"Hermione, are you okay? That was... it was wrong. You studied hard for that exam, and even if it didn't count so much to our final mark, it still counted to you. Don't worry about it. It was just a test. Now, whip those tears dry and come to the common room. Harry's looking for you." Hermione bit her lip and pulled herself out of his grasp, backing up on the best. Her large brown eyes showed fear, and something else that Ron couldn't quite read.

"Just a test. Just a test! It may not seem like something to you but it is to me! Leave me alone! Get out of here!" Lunging forwards, she pushed him off the edge of the bed. He fell backwards, and spread his right arm out, trying to grab a hold of something. But as his hand closed on empty air, his body hit the floor with a thud, his head smashing against the back of Hermione's enormous trunk. Her cheeks still glistening with tears, Hermione slid off the bed and stepped forwards towards the sprawled and unconscious body of Ron. The sharp intake of breath made her dizzy as she backed away slowly, than began to sprint across the room, down the stairs, and out into the common room, where her foot snagged a chair leg. Her body propelled forwards, and she knocked over the standing form of Harry.

"Ouch! What th- Hermione! Where's Ron! HERMIONE!" Harry pushed himself up onto all fours after being trampled by the brunet, and watched as the portrait door swung shut with a snap. "What's gotten into her?" He wondered, by a slight moan from the stairs was all the answer he got.

---

Her heart raced quickly, her legs pumped with incredible speed. She didn't even think about stopping until she reached the library entrance. Hermione swung the door open, not even bothering to make sure the person she hit was okay. Her thoughts were on finding a book to rid her of her worries. Either one to relieve her of pain or on that she could sink her mind into, and vanish from her body. The library was empty, or so she thought. Her breathing slowed down to it's normal pace; she began to sort through a stack of books at the far end- lesson books.

"There has to be something here that is of interest." She murmured, not really to herself, but more to the silence and calmness of the library. Placing a few titles on the floor she jumped as a book was shut with such force behind her. Spinning around she fell back, for dead in front of her stood a silvery blonde, with eyes so cold they could melt the sun. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"Me?" He smirked. Placing the book behind him, he propped himself up on a table. "Well, I'm reading do you have a problem with that?" Hands on her hips, Hermione stared back.

"Actually, I do have a problem with that. I have a problem with you, got that Malfoy?" Draco raised his hands in defence.

"Heh, the mudblood has an attitude. What's wrong, get a zero on you're test? That's right, you did, didn't you?" Smirking, he watched as a tear fell down her cheek. That something inside of him came back. "Look Granger, if you want help, just ask for it. I ah... happen to know a lot in the field of Defence Against the Dark Arts, and if you want help... It's here. Why? Because it is. Take it or leave it. If you do, I don't care. If you don't, you fail." Snatching his book up again, he wandered out of the library, leaving a very confused Hermione standing in between a stack of books and a table.

---

Hehehe, that chapter took a while to write. Any who, here it is, done, complete, read over... and all for you're enjoyment. I'm going to try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible. But until than, happy reading!

_K*Starr