DISCLAIMER: Hermione, Severus, Draco and all their friends belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic Books and everyone else with a copyright. I'm just letting them out to play a bit 'til the next book or movie comes out and they have to get back to their day jobs.

"Marriage is like a pair of shears. Oft times working in opposite directions,

but punishing anyone that comes between them."      -Sydney Smith

Chapter 7

Hermione could feel the throbbing beginning behind her eyes, and wondered how long she had before the actual headache arrived. After almost seven years of trying to explain things to Ron, she knew the symptoms. She also knew trying to make him understand some things was useless, but she'd been sorted into Gryffindor for a reason and she forged ahead anyway, making one last brave attempt.

"Look, Ron, I told you, I grabbed the wrong robe off the couch this morning. I don't have time to go get mine right now, I am not going to transfigure someone else's property without permission – even assuming I could, since Malfoy's belongings probably have anti-spell charms on them anyway – and somehow, I find it hard to believe wearing a snake on my chest for a few hours is going to completely ruin my life." Ron opened his mouth to protest – again - and she glared at him. "Enough already. It's just a robe, for Merlin's sake!"

"Hermione?" Hermione stopped and turned towards the small voice, quickly eliminating the glare when the second year girl gasped and began to back away quickly.

 "I'm sorry, Mary, that wasn't meant for you. What can I do for you?" Relieved at the distraction, she turned to Harry and Ron and made a shooing motion towards the end of the corridor. "You two better hurry up and get to Potions. I'll be along in a minute." She shot Ron another deadly glare as he opened his mouth. Admitting defeat, he shrugged and headed off, Harry following quickly behind him.

Hermione smiled and Mary relaxed. "I don't want you to be late! I just wanted to let you know I passed that horrible transfiguration test, and well, thank you for all your help. I was so scared, I knew I couldn't pass on my own, and it was so nice of you to tutor me. I know how busy you are and all…" The blonde girl blushed and ducked her head. "I just wanted you to know how I did."

Hermione smile grew. Finally, something good news. "I'm glad you passed the test, Mary. You worked really hard and I'm proud of you. Remember, you come and tell me if you have problems again, alright?"

Mary smiled back. "I promise."  She jumped at the sound of a chime coming from her watch.  "Oh, gosh! I'm going to be late!" She turned and started down the hall, yelling "Thanks again, Hermione! I couldn't have done it without you!" before breaking in to a run.

Hermione headed off down the corridor after her quickly. She didn't dare run – she was Head Girl, after all – but she walked as quickly as her dignity would allow. She was relieved when she caught sight of the classroom doors and realized she wasn't the last to arrive; Crabbe was approaching from the other direction. She smiled, wondering idly if the ever fastidious Malfoy had decided he couldn't get through a few hours without a handkerchief and sent one of his minions off to fetch one before class.

She stopped in front of the doors to the classroom behind Crabbe, ready to catch the heavy door and follow him in. Instead, he grabbed the handle, pulled the door open and stepped aside, gesturing politely for Hermione to proceed him inside.

She stood there for a moment, staring, looking like a victim of Stupefy, before she finally gathered her wits and walked through the door. "Um…thank you." She couldn't help looking back over her shoulder at him, puzzled by his odd behaviour.

"My pleasure, Lady," he replied graciously and smiled at her. She stumbled briefly. A minion of the Prince of Slytherin had held the door for a muggle born witch, then answered her politely and called her "Lady." Oh, AND he had smiled at her.

Hell had obviously frozen over and no one had informed her.  It was the only explanation.

Turning back to find her way to her seat, she caught sight of Malfoy. His smirk and curt nod of approval in Crabbe's direction suddenly made other possible reasons seem possible.

She sighed regretfully as she slid into her seat. The Hell explanation would have been so much easier to deal with.

Precisely on time as usual, Severus swept into class, glared at Crabbe, who was not yet in his seat, and stalked down the aisle to his desk. Turning, he ran a critical eye over what was theoretically the crème de la crème of Potions students at Hogwarts: the seventh year Advanced Potions Class.

It never ceased to amaze him that the simpletons had managed to make it this far. Honestly, most of them could barely tell a cauldron from a coal scuttle. Except for Her, of course, and perhaps the Malfoy boy. His eyes drifted towards Her and narrowed as he caught a glimpse of Her attire. Not trusting his usually unerring eyesight, he straightened and stepped closer, stopping in front of Her desk. His eyes hadn't deceived him. She actually was wearing a Slytherin robe. He tamped down the warm feeling that threatened to spread through him at the sight of her in his House's raiment. How many times over the years had he wished She was one of his…

Suddenly uncomfortable, She looked up and Her eyes met his. He allowed one eyebrow to climb slowly before speaking. "Well, Miss Granger. I'm sure I speak for all of us in Slytherin House when I say I am gratified that you've come to your senses and finally realized there is a House where your drive to know-it-all and need to enlighten the general populace could be used to better purpose than constantly annoying your professors and fellow students. I must regretfully inform you, however, that your epiphany has come far too late. No matter what robe you choose to wear, I'm afraid you are doomed to graduate as a Gryffindor."

Her eyes flashed amber for a moment, but Her voice was calm when She spoke. "I'm afraid I was in a hurry and there was a mix up this morning, Professor. Believe me, I intend to return this robe to Malfoy and change back into my Gryffindor robe just as soon as possible. I'm sure we all agree he is much better suited to it than I."

Severus' eyes narrowed as he sorted through the implications of Her statement. Somehow, She and Malfoy had managed to get their clothes mixed up. His eyes shot over to the Slytherin side of the room and he barely stopped himself from reaching for his wand at the sight of the younger man's self satisfied smile. If he was going to hex the boy – and right now, there were five or six really painful hexes hovering on the tip of his tongue – it would be foolish to do it in class. He turned back to Her. "Twenty five points from Gryffindor for the Head Girl's failure to keep track of her clothing once it's been removed," he snarled, then, turning sharply with a billow of black robes, he proceeded to get back to the job at hand: trying to impart some small knowledge of potions to the dunderheads before they were let loose on the world.

For the rest of the class period, try as he might to keep his mind on the matter at hand, he found his attention drifting to Malfoy (who was watching Her), Weasley (who was watching Malfoy watch Her) or Granger (who was pointedly ignoring everyone, including him).

Finally, after what seemed an interminable amount of time, the end of the period approached. "I want four feet of parchment tomorrow on the side effects of and antidotes for the potion we were studying today. And no, I'm not going to tell you the name of it or what it does; we've been going over the ingredients and the brewing of it for the past hour and a half. Those of you who have half a brain have no doubt have figured it out by now; the rest of you are hopeless cretins and I don't intend to waste my time telling you things you should already know." Severus smirked when he saw the look of desperation on Potter and Weasley's face; a quick glance at Her told him that She knew exactly what the potion was. He knew She would tell them eventually, but he hoped She would make them at least work a bit for the information first.

He stood at his desk and watched as Malfoy put away his supplies. As usual, every non-Gryffindor girl in class found an excuse to pass by his desk and make some no-doubt coquettish remark to the boy, which he responded to with automatic charm. Tired of watching the parade, Severus decided to speed things up. "Mr. Malfoy, I believe we have an appointment." Shrugging apologetically at the admirer currently hovering by his desk, Malfoy nodded a dismissal to Crabbe and Goyle, hoisted his book bag over his shoulder and made his way to the front of the class.

"What can I do for you, sir?" Severus stared at the boy for a few moments before turning and walking away.

"My office. Now."

A/N: The public (yes, that means you!) has spoken, and there will, by popular demand, be another version of this story written where Draco gets the girl. (Also by popular request, it will be done after this one is completed.) This is the chapter where there will begin to be major differences in the DM/HG version (which I have begun to think of as "A Marriage of Inconvenience 2.0"). Much thanks to all who have taken the time to review and email so far. YOU are the reason this story is being updated fairly quickly (though I have started a NC-17 Hermione fic ("Practical Knowledge," posted on adultfanfiction.net) for those moments when I want to write something that is simply mindless entertainment), and your input is the only reason I haven't lost interest and wandered off. Your comments, suggestions and insights keep this interesting, and add so much to the story. Thanks for making my words part of your day.