Disclaimer: I don't own any Harry Potter books, movies, or merchandise. Wait...let me correct that...I don't own the rights to the movies, merchandise, and books.

Seagrass: Well, I'm writing this at a more reasonable hour. This time, no sleeping bag, no flashlight, and no laptop. This is a plain old computer typing exercise.

Chapter Two

" Wait. I know that I have met you before," said the obnoxious girl with the bushy brown hair and the gigantic glasses with the four-inch thick lenses.

Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes and sighed. Then he ran a hand through his silvery blond hair. " Mudblood," he muttered, frowning angrily.

" There you go again! Why do you keep calling me that? I don't have mud in my blood!" cried the girl indignantly.

Then she gave a triumphant cry of discovery. " I remember now! I-uh-met you last night! Your name is Draco Malfoy! And I don't like you at all!" Then she blabbered on, talking about all sorts of things, ranging from dark topics, such as jinxing, to milder topics, such as the History of Magic. Finally she concluded with, " But you didn't get around to telling me the definition of Mudblood." She pouted.

Draco recoiled, disgusted. Hermione Granger pouting was certainly a sight to see.

" Look, you filthy little Mudblood, I don't think you want to know what a Mudblood is. I don't want you to start yelling at me," he spat.

" But this concerns me and I want to know what it means!" Hermione whined.

Draco rubbed his eyes. This certainly was not making his job easier. Besides, he wasn't supposed to actually talk with her! He was supposed to gain her trust and then drag her outside…

Moonlight flowed into the room, folding over Hermione's face with an ethereal glow.

Too bad it doesn't do anything for her looks. Draco grimaced as he looked at the grizzly mane and the four-inch thick glasses. He ran practiced eyes over her buckteeth. At least they aren't yellow and mossy like Crabbe and Goyle's, he thought distastefully. Then he slapped his forehead. Of course not. Her parents were…those Muggles who fixed teeth…dintels? No, thought Draco, Dintels is a brand of candy.

" What are you thinking? And why do I keep appearing in this room? I was being tucked into bed by my mommy. Then I fall asleep. I wake up, and I'm in here! You didn't explain that to me last time!" Hermione snapped.

Draco hated his job right then. He hated his father, he hated Voldemort, and he especially hated the way society and the Death Eaters viewed him. Only as a tool, or as a maniac obsessed with Dark Arts. It didn't pay to be a good Slytherin either. People would never see him as anything but evil. And then when they found out he was actually into the Dark Arts, they stuck up their middle fingers and turned their backs on him forever.

As if they hadn't already.

He finally spoke. " Listen up Granger. Your mommy and daddy are leaving you with us here at Hogwarts for some safety reasons. I can't tell you why now, but trust themthey dropped you off here. I'm supposed to take care of you for now, until your parents come to get you. You only stay with us in the night, and they'll pick you up in the morning. But then you can't tell anyone about this. You're a special case," he gave his best Draco-sweetie-pie-smile.

Unfortunately, the best of Draco's sweet smiles was the worst in an average person. Smiling sweetly just didn't suit him.

Hermione's beady eyes rolled in her sockets. " Smiling sweetly doesn't suit you at all."

Draco held in the urge to punch her in the face. Actually, he wanted to jinx her badly, but he remembered the directions…

He wasn't supposed to tell her or show her about magic. He was just supposed to play with her weak mind. By that, they had meant that he could tell her all sorts of lies about the magic world. He was actually supposed to feed her nothing but lies, and Draco had no problem with that. He did have a problem with her know-it-all attitude.

Let's see, thought Draco, her faults. She was a know-it-all chatterbox. She was also arrogant, and acted like she knew everything about the wizarding world. When he had told her she was in a school of magic and was going to be there the entire night, she had gone wild with delight, acting as if she knew everything there was to know about magic. She had made these annoying assumptions about it, and Draco had the irresistible urge to correct her, and he did.

Unfortuantely, by doing so, he had accidentally told her many magical facts.

Except, of course, for the simple and plain fact that she was a witch.

He relished the moments when she looked hungry and jealous whenever he talked about levitating objects, and transforming items. Her voice was wistful when she lamented the injustice of Muggles' inability to learn magic. Draco loved it. But he only gloated to himself, happy of this victory.

Her whiny voice brought him back to earth. " Draaaaccccco! You've been ignoring me for the last hundred minutes! Talk to me! Entertain me!" Her bushy hair puffed out, and her eyes were snappish.

Draco rolled his eyes. Entertain her. Sighing, he commenced a story about a dragon and a princess. He smiled. One of his personal favorites.

If only he weren't telling the story to Hermione Granger.

Harry jogged along the hallways, searching for Hermione. He had wanted to tell her about the prophecy and discuss it with her, although he knew her exact feelings on the subject of prophecies. But he and Ron had both forgotten to tell her. He'd remembered as he was trying to fall asleep, and then had sat up awake. He had checked the Marauder's Map to see if she was awake, so he could relay her the news.

However, something strange happened. No matter where he looked, Hermione Granger had simply disappeared from the map. It was as if she had gone and left no traces. Harry thought the map was malfunctioning, but then why would it single out Hermione and exclude her? It didn't make sense. There was only one possible explanation—Hermione had left the school's premises.

Harry was so distraught he merely pulled on the Invisibility Cloak and left without even waking Ron. He was going to check the grounds. She couldn't have gone far without Dumbledore knowing…

He was about to make a left turn when something popped up in front of him. He walked through it, and felt an icy cold shock. Then, as he gasped and attempted to adjust his cloak, it slipped off his body, and fell to the floor. Turning around, he froze. Peeves stood in front of him, grinning.

" Why look! It's the potty head! What is the chamber Pott doing out so late?" Peeves's dark eyes flashed malevolently.

" Nnnnno Peeves," Harry whispered, shaking with fear, " I'm out here because the B-baron told me to come and ...errrmm... go on a mission for him," he said, realizing how pathetic his lie sounded. He wondered why he hadn't obeyed his running instinct.

Peeves' eyes bugged out. " Why Potty, your lies aren't up to your usual standard. Why would the Baron not tell me of this mission when I just spoke with him 5 minutes ago?"

Time to go.

Harry sprinted down the hall, leaving the cloak behind. He heard Peeves scream, "Pottttttyyyyyy Head is OUT OF BED! He's running down the west wing corridor!"

" Peeves," said a cold voice behind him, " I can see that Potter is running as fast as his little legs can carry him, and that is not very far. Filch is waiting to capture him at the other end of the corridor, so don't scream. It's not necessary. We don't want to wake up the whole castle."

Harry felt much better...he could see the end of the corridor...there was no sign of pursuit…he was about to make a left (again) when he collided solidly with a body. He looked up and realized he had banged headlong into Filch.

(Filch) Evil grin.

" Potter," said the cold voice, " I will not go through the usual lectures. I will be taking 50 points from Gryffindor House, and confiscating your Invisibility Cloak. Considering the damage it has done in these six years you've been at Hogwarts and its...past history of rule breaking you are lucky I am not burning it right now. If this happens again I will make sure you are expelled. You have been warned."

Snape looked up from his fingernail painting. Harry did not want to look at him. He was feeling a mixture of amusement and horror. Snape must be going through a major reform project...he's actually painting his fingernails fluorescent pink, he thought.

Snape, at the moment, continued to talk. But Harry could not listen. He noticed that Snape's black dress... (wait... black dress?) had ruffles and lace decorating the edges of it, while it was also tight and revealed the front of Snape's chest. He noticed Snape was sitting with his legs crossed, and was wearing silver stilettos. Harry bit his lip hard to keep from laughing. Someone's been to crazy town, he thought. Snape blew on his pink nails and continued talking, " ...your father was so arrogant..."

Ok, he's the mayor of crazy town, Harry thought. Snape winded down, and dismissed Harry with a wave of his hand. Harry trudged miserably back to the Gryffindor Tower. He felt angry at Snape for taking the cloak away, but he laughed to himself. The image of Snape with pink fingernails was and a dress was too funny to be allowed.

Harry flopped onto his bed and removed his glasses. He then closed the burgundy hangings, and his mind cleared as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Draco sighed as he dragged the sleeping girl to the front of Gryffindor portrait hole. He sat back, huffing and puffing from physical exertion as she lay in front of the Fat Lady, who was snoring gently. He stared, disgusted, as he examined her physical defects. Ugh, he thought, she's uglier than Pansy. He gave one sneering look at her, and departed. Botched mission underway, he thought.

Seagrass: So, the usual applies. Please review, and tell me what you think. Do you sense that Harry forgot to do something? Hmmm… Miniatures of Snape in a black dress with pink nails and silver stilettos to anyone who guesses what Harry forgot to do. Oh yes and—everything will be revealed bit by bit. You'll start to put together the pieces…