A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. I love you guys! Well … love may be a bit extreme, but I really, really like you guys. Ok here's Chapter Six? Yeah, six. Please Read and Review because everyone loves getting e-mails, don't they? My new story "The Dare" will be up in the PD section soon, so look out for that too. Enjoy!

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As they both slept peacefully, a certain Potions Master was drowning his sorrows. Staring at the bottom of his brandy glass, he contemplated the topic that his godson wanted to discuss with him. So far, he hadn't thought of anything even remotely important. Why, the only things Draco ever talked about were Quiddich and Girls.

The Quiddich season hadn't started yet, so it couldn't be that. Therefore, it had to be girls. But Draco never had any problem with the ladies. On the contrary, he was quite the charmer. But obviously there was one young lady he couldn't get. So that left only one question. Which girl was he after? Now this one took some thought.

It couldn't be anyone from Slytherin, because they all worshiped the ground he walked on, the Ravenclaw students were too fixated on their studies to even consider dating anyone, so it couldn't be them either. The Hufflepuffs were just too stupid to realise that anyone liked them, let alone wanted to date them, so that ruled them out too.

This left the Gryffindors.  But Draco wouldn't go for a Gryffindor … would he? No he wouldn't. Well … Her-Miss Granger did look much better than she did the last time Draco had seen her. Well, it was always a possibility. And it could be a lot worse. If it was Miss Granger, at least Severus could try and put him off somehow. Yes, it'd be a long night of thinking for him, that's for sure.

The next morning, there was a mad dash for the bathroom, resulting in one very unhappy head boy.

"Granger, get your butt out of that bathroom!!!" He yelled through the door, banging his fist on it.

"No!" came the muffled reply, and the sound of running water could now be heard.

"Damn it Granger! You'll be sorry!" He screeched, banging the door harder.

"Whatever!" She shouted back at him, throwing a bottle of shampoo at the door. After another 10 minutes of kicking and banging on the door, he gave up and headed towards the portrait, yelling about girls who take too long in the bathroom and who don't have any respect for pureblooded wizards.

20 minutes after that, Hermione finally emerged from the solitude of the bathroom and made her way back to her bedroom, grabbing her make-up bag on the way out. Reaching her bedroom, she sat down in front of her mirror and began applying the little make-up she wore. Some neutral coloured eye shadow, mascara and pale pink lip gloss did the trick. Looking at the clock, she realised she was late.

'Probably due to that stupid git banging on the door this morning' she thought viciously, now rushing to her wardrobe and throwing on a pair of low rise jeans, a white spaghetti strap top and a pair of black low rise converse shoes. Straightening her hair with her wand, she put it up into a bun, and after dashing in and out of her bedroom, picking up various books and quills as she went, she was finally ready to go, and made her way out of the portrait hole, slinging her bag onto her shoulder as she went.

She didn't get very far though. As soon as she'd opened the door, she heard a loud "Oof!" coming from the floor. Looking down, she saw a pile of tangled limbs, and an array of books, quills and ink wells scattered everywhere. A shocked Harry Potter was gaping at the picture behind her and a grinning Ron Weasley was looking up at her impishly. Standing up quickly and brushing themselves off, they greeted the girl and made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, Harry still confused about the portrait he had just seen. Taking a seat at the Gryffindor table, he decided to ask his best friend about this.

"Hermione …" He said, picking up his goblet and taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

"Yes Harry?" She sounded pleasant enough.

"You know that portrait …" He said, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. She carried buttering the slice of toast she was holding, then took a deep breath.

"There are a lot of portraits in this castle. Approximately 739 according to Hogwarts: A History. There are also 627 suits of armour and--" She rambled on, until Harry put a hand on her mouth and said

"I know, 'Mione, I know." Then rolled his eyes.

"Oh. So you've read the book then?" She asked hopefully. 7 odd years of nagging and the boys hadn't even picked it up, let alone opened it.

"Uh … no. But I will do, sometime. Now will you answer the question?" He asked again, avoiding the subject of Hermione's favourite book.

"I'll hold you to that. Now, what question? You got as far as 'You know that portrait …'. Care to elaborate?" She said, shaking her head and making a few strands of hair  fall out of the bun in the process.

"Oh yeah." He grinned sheepishly. "You know that portrait guarding your common room?" He asked her, keeping his eyes fixed on the plate in front of him.

"Yes …" She replied cautiously.

"Well, did you notice that it had an uncanny resemblance to you and …"

"Yes I did. And before you ask, no I don't know why, and yes I will be looking it up." She said quickly and harshly, standing up with the slice of now buttered toast. "Do you want to help?" She asked, her voice growing softer.

"Yeah. We'll meet you in the library, won't we, Ron." It was more of a statement than a question, and Ron's head shot up at the sound of his name.

"Wha …?" He mumbled through the mouthful of bacon and eggs.

"I'll explain later." Harry muttered to him, and waved as Hermione left the table. "Catch you in about 15 minutes!" He yelled over.

None of the trio saw the platinum blonde head stand up and follow the Head Girl out of the Great Hall.