Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter© or any of the concepts derived from the book series. The book series is the soul property of J.K. Rowling.

To Keep it Simple

Previous Chapter

"Lumos," she gently whispered to it, as if she was explaining sweet nothings to an actual being. The wand responded and the tip began to glow lightly, enough to shed light upon the whole page. As she finally got comfortable, body simply oozing with pleasure and releasing all the "built up frustration" Professor McGonagall had claimed that she'd had, she felt the presence of another thing in the bathroom with her.

"Nox," she heard it whisper, and her wand's light blew out.

Chapter 1- Proper Etiquette

Hermione abruptly jerked her head around, fearless brown eyes searching in the darkness. As the room swiveled around her, she slowly began to rise out of the frothy mixture, wand poised defensively.

"Who's there?" she called.

"Calm down, Granger. You wouldn't want to reveal too much flesh, would you?" a voice said from the darkness—accompanied by a smirk that simply dripped with boyish hormones.

"I should have known," Hermione said as she slipped back into the waters. A somewhat pleased Draco Malfoy slunk out of the shadows. He appeared in all his masculine glory—broad shoulders that matched his built chest— though not bulging and speckled with veins-- and a thin waist wrapped in a white towel. His pale skin had seemed to change through the years, a reasonable peach skin color now, and though his platinum blonde hair remained the same tint, he had cut it much shorter. It no longer looked as though he'd received the backlash of an airplane's engine. Hermione saw all but did not care much for it. Turning back to her book, she rested her head against her towel once more, and uttered the familiar incantation to her wand. The tip began to glow once more.

"Are you not at all flattered by my presence?" Draco questioned sardonically. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned towards him, bubbles spinning in spirals about her nape.

"You give yourself too much credit, Malfoy. If anything, it should be the other way around," she replied, a smile dancing briefly on her lips. "What exactly are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in the Great Hall, harassing Gryffindor first years and training the new army of Slytherins?"

"McGonagall tried to send one of the other prefects to join you after you left. Terry and Hannah were.. occupied," Draco said with a grin that danced near the edge of a snarl. "Which left me—and I was more then willing to escort the girl who believes that I am 'boorish', 'impenitent' and.."

"Dubious," Hermione finished for him. Draco cocked a brow, then reached for the towel wrapped around his waist. As he unraveled it, Hermione turned away, eyes concentrated solely on her book.

"Stop acting like such a feverish school girl," he commanded as he saw her shift her attention. "I am not stark naked, Granger. I'm sure you would love that, but contrary to popular belief, I have a sense of etiquette."

Hermione slowly turned to look at Draco. To her relief, he was not lying. He watched her, hands in the pockets of his knee-length prussian swimming trunks. With a sigh, she turned back to her book. Moments later, the sound of water parting to make way for another being could be heard. She could feel his breath on her neck as he settled down alongside her.

"There is an entire swimming pool for you to relax in—go sit in your own corner," she muttered.

"It's much more comfortable for me to sit here, Granger," Draco replied. Hermione slammed her book shut. She had technically stopped reading it as soon as the Slytherin had made his appearance. Even though she had sat with her eyes running over the same paragraph at least twenty times, she had no recollection of what the excerpt was about. Her mind had been on other things.

"Well then, I'll move—you obnoxious git."

She grabbed her towel, robe and book and proceeded to move towards the opposite side of the pool, the water reaching up to her chin. Holding the items above her head, she treaded water and eventually managed to reach the other side.

"Are you afraid of men?" Draco asked with a smirk. He stood up to his full height in the water, the liquid only able to reach as high as his shoulders.

"Of course not!" Hermione said as she set her things down on the marble floor. She turned to face him, but to her surprise, her eyes met his neck. In the time it had taken her to put down her possessions, he had sped through the water to introduce Hermione to his lithe body.

"Really? I find that rather hard to believe considering that you squirm whenever I look at you," he said.

"Malfoy, you are you," she said with disgust. She propped her hands on the edge of the pool behind her and pulled herself from the waters. Draco looked away and Hermione immediately softened at his show of respect.

"I'm decent," she slowly said as she turned to grab her bathrobe.

"And that, you are," he replied as his eyes raked over her body.

Hermione regretted having ever felt the least amount of pity for the monster and stood up, her wet swimming suit sending tremors down her spine. She slipped one hand into the robe's sleeves, then the other and knotted the sash.

"Are you coming?" she tossed behind her as she pulled her somewhat dry tresses of auburn from beneath the collar of the robe. Her reply was that of Draco clambering from the waters to search for his towel.

"With you, yes, but beside you, never," he said as he moved himself in front of her. Hermione barely noticed as she tucked her book into her large pocket and unlit her wand.

"You smell rather nice this evening," Ron commented as he glanced at Hermione. He and Harry were once again engaged in an intense game of Wizard's Chess. Several days had passed since the feast in the Great Hall and Hermione's nerves had slowly regained control. After returning from another bath, she felt utterly refreshed and prepared to begin Snape's two parchment long essay on the uses of wolfsbane. Though it was due in a week, she was always one to start on things early.

"Do I usually not smell nice?" Hermione asked inquisitively as she rose a brow. Positioning her quill on her paper, she began scribbling away, eyes darting back and forth between research and parchment.

"Let me rephrase that- you smell exceptionally nice this evening," the chuckling Weasley said. Harry relieved several laughs as well, but quickly silenced as his companion placed him in checkmate once again.

"I've barely made four moves and already—you bloody genius," the Quidditch seeker mumbled beneath his breath. Hermione smiled as she glanced at the redundant scene.

"So Hermione, what is your secret?" Ron asked as he rested his hands behind his head.

"The Prefects' bathroom," she quickly replied.

"Bugger—if I'd known that prefects got their own bathroom, I would have tried harder to become one," he said with a grin. Harry laughed.

"Even if you had tried harder, there would still be no chance for you to be a prefect."

Ron looked thoughtful for several minutes, purposely putting his hand beneath his chin in a stroking fashion. "True."

"Yes, well, unfortunately for me, the prefects' bathroom is open to all prefects, including a Slytherin ferret I'm sure you two are familiar with," she muttered. Ron and Harry immediately sat up in their seats.

"So, have you two met.. in the bathroom?" Ron said as he cleared his throat. Hermione nodded listlessly, her hand moving. She stifled the snicker that arose upon hearing the awkward phrasing.

"And..?" Harry inquired as he moved closer to Hermione.

"Nothing happened," she replied with a shrug. Harry and Ron exchanged glances, then returned to their Wizard's Chess.

Hermione had felt a weight lifted from her shoulders as she'd told Harry and Ron about the events of the previous week. She no longer felt burdeoned with whatever emotion that had been linked to the bathroom incident. When she walked into the Great Hall, all other prefects were already there. Professor McGonagall peered at Hermione through her square spectacles, her withered features holding a stern expression.

"Now that all prefects are here, let us begin the meeting."

Hermione sat down beside Hannah and laced her fingers in her lap. She caught Draco observing her from his seat beside Terry, which was directly across from her.

"The first years this year have been somewhat- incorrectly led. By this I mean—you four prefects have not been setting as much of a example as I would hope you all would."

Hermione began to blush a soft shade of pink, an immediate reflex that occurred when she felt shamed or nervous. She quickly controlled her face's color and watched the professor as she proceeded to lecture them.

"They aren't as hard working as you all once were and prefer playing to studying. Many teachers have complained about their marks. I know that you all must be trying in some manner to teach your house's first years correct mannerism and work techniques—"

Three prefects uneasily glanced at each other while the fourth folded his arms across his chest and smirked.

"—but they aren't as successful as I'm sure they could be. Dumbledore decided that it would be best for the first years if they learned to work with each other. With less conflict between the houses, we can ease tension and the students can focus more on their work. What will happen is that the four of you will pair off differently each evening. After the classes, which Dumbledore has agreed to shorten in order for this event, all first years will return to their houses. There, you four will be waiting for them so that you can lead them to another house. First, Gryffindor will meet with Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw will meet with Slytherin. Then Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw will meet while Gryffindor and Slytherin meet. Depending on how well each house gets along, we will shorten or lengthen this experimental period. I suggest that you all meet accordingly to plan what events you all shall present to the first years. Dumbledore trusts each of you with successfully pulling this off—do not disappoint him. Seeing as that the most conflict will probably be between Gryffindor and Slytherin, I suggest that you two, Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy, decide on something—together—and quickly. The first session will be three days from now."

With that said, Professor McGonagall turned and left the Great Hall, her robes sweeping behind her. Hermione slowly pivoted to face Draco as she stood up from her seat.

"Well, you heard the woman, off you two go," Terry said wittily. Hermione glanced around the room and sighed. She glared at Draco as she passed by him, heading for the Great Hall's main doors.

"Are you coming?" she spit out as she reached the door. Draco smirked as he shifted his hands into his pockets and followed her down the corridor.

Hermione sat down at an empty table in the far corner of the library. Moments later, Draco pulled back his seat and fell ruggedly into the wooden chair.

"I cannot believe this," she uttered beneath her breath. Her mismatched companion watched her with a raised brow, smiling devilishly as he always did.

"Talking to yourself again Granger? I knew you were insane, but not this much insane.." he said, trailing off as Hermione shot him a death glare. She weakly sighed and tucked her chin into the groove of her palm.

"We could play some sort of game—to let the first years get accustomed to one another," she suggested.

"Yes, and then afterwards we could all sit down for tea and have a lovely little chat about our feelings," Draco sarcastically replied. "These are children, Granger, not idiots."

"I wasn't referring to them as if they were idiots, Malfoy," she sneered.

"Obviously, you were, Granger. What game can we let them play that would not allow them the opportunity to attack each other? None that would not make them feel like dolts," he said as he rested one arm behind his seat's back and the other splayed across his lap.

"Well," Hermione answered, gritting her teeth to keep from yelling. "Musical chairs."

"What in the name of Merlin's.. a muggle game? Are you purposely trying to turn the Slytherin first year's into a raging mob of children?"

Hermione rubbed her temples as she tried to focus, eyes slightly squinted as she glared a hole into the fine oak of the aging table. Her nerves were slowly beginning to frazzle and soon they would look like her hair had several years ago.

"Well then, you try coming up with a clever idea, Malfoy—and when you finally do come up with one, I'll be waiting for it, sitting in my rocking chair, old and grey."

Draco ignored her comment and sat up, resting his arms along the table. He leaned forward and waited until Hermione finally turned her head up.

"We set the first example," he said, his piercing silver eyes growing faintly with a spark of mischief.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione inquired as her attention was snagged from her.

"We set the first example—by not attacking each other every single moment there is a chance. The Slytherins leave the Gryffindors alone and the Gryffindors leave the Slytherins alone—and seeing as that were are the two prefects—we leave each other alone as well," Draco said. Hermione's brows raised and a look of utter disturbance rose across her features.

"Absolutely smashing idea, Malfoy. By completely ignoring each other, the first years will learn how to work together with their invisible allies! Brilliant, just bloody brilliant," she sarcastically ended. As she rolled her eyes, Draco ran an innocent finger down her cheek. She froze as chills ran down her spine for several seconds.

"We don't ignore each other. We set an example by becoming more then just friendly."