"Malfoy?" Hermione whispered, gently tapping the boy on the shoulder. True to their semi-agreement, he had stayed on the outside of the covers the entire night.

"Uh?"

"We need to talk." He sat bolt upright in response, giving her a groggy look.

"Nothing good has ever come after those four words," he joked easily, despite his sleepiness. It surprised him to realize, for the first time, how easy it was to be around her. When they weren't bickering, of course.

Hermione smiled her own sleepy smile, sitting up to face him. Or rather, to look up and face him, since he was half a head taller than her. "You know what I mean."

"Let me think. My initial reaction was that you wanted to break up with me. Then I realized we weren't really in relationship, so I quickly shot down that idea. The only other idea I can think of is that you might want to propose."

"They hit you too hard."

"Very funny."

"You can't keep sleeping here."

"So we'll make a special trapdoor in the floor and-"

"And then you'd be suspended above the Transfiguration classroom."

"In the wall then?"

"Stop fooling around."

"You know you love it."

Hermione sighed, shaking her head sadly. "Focus. Please."

"Only for you Peaches."

"Which reminds me…"

"Of what?"

"Harry and Ginny are going to think-"

"That it's just part of the charade. Don't spaz on me."

"Yes Master."

"Which brings me to the other topic of last night." Malfoy was smirking again. Hermione wondered, briefly, how he managed to smirk all the time, even before he was forming full sentences.

"I was tired."

"You offered your self as a sex slave."

"Oh, contraire. I said that's what you could tell your little snake friends."

"Slytherins-"

"Don't have friends…I know, I know."

"And I wouldn't want to tarnish your perfect record."

"I told you-"

"You don't really want to do that though. Trust me."

"Trust you?"

"What's with the disbelief?"

"I hate you. You hate me. I can not trust you. It would violate all laws of life."

"Unless, of course, neither of us really hated the other one all that much."

"But we do."

"Which is why I'm sleeping in your bed."

"You make it sound so wrong."

"That's how it was meant to sound."

"You know something I've noticed about you?"

"I'm devilishly sexy, you love me, and there are many, many other things we could be doing on a bed right now?"

"No, actually. It's that you can never get to the point." Hermione smirked now, wondering, briefly, why she was smirking so much. Of course, she knew the answer, she just didn't want to think about how much time she'd been spending with the blonde Slytherin, because then she'd be prone to calculating it exactly, and she was fairly sure the numbers would not be encouraging.

He grinned sheepishly in response, knowing he'd proved her point time and time again. "So. We need a solution."

"That would be the general idea behind this conversation."

"I go back to the dungeons, and get beaten up."

"You report it, and get beaten up."

"I ask to move into the Gryffindor tower, and I get beaten up by Slytherins and Gryffindors."

"What plausible reason would you have to stay here rather than any of the other houses?"

"To be near you?"

"They're only going to believe this charade for so long, you know that?"

"Well, most of your little Gryffindor friends haven't figured it out."

"And we're fooling your housemates as well."

"So neither house is as clever as they're meant to be."

"You can be dumb and brave."

"And cunning and dense."

"We still don't have a solution."

"The way I see it, there's only one way to do this."

"And it is…?"

"I stay here."

"For how long, though?"

"Why don't we make an agreement?"

"OK…."

"I will stay here until we're finished with the play."

"Deal," Hermione replied, sticking out her hand. He gave her an odd look, and leaned forward to kiss her. Hermione, without really knowing what she was doing, as she would argue later, kissed back.

"Agreed," he said, and trudged off to her private bathroom to get changed. Hermione quickly changed into jeans and a tank top, threw on her robes, and gathered her books. Slytherins could be so unpredictable.

A half an hour later, Malfoy finally emerged from the bathroom.

"You take longer than I do!" Hermione exclaimed, jumping up from her spot at the window seat.

"Perfection takes ages."

"Clearly you underestimated the time." Hermione said, hurrying into the bathroom before he could retort. When she emerged five minutes later, he was still chuckling to himself. "Have you gone absolutely mad?" She burst out, standing a good three paces away from him.

"That was one of your better insults Granger."

"Oh, why thank you! I live for your praise." She paused, studying his face. He turned to her, one eyebrow raised, smirking yet again. She hurried to come up with something to say. "How are you going to get out without someone noticing?"

"Accio Broom," he said, and Hermione watched as a broom flew to the window.

"I see…Well, I'll be off then. See you at practice later."

"Come with me."

"On a broom?"

"No, on the giant purple-spotted hippogriff. Yes, on a broom."

"I'm terrified of heights."

He shrugged. "So I'll hold you tight."

"Careful Malfoy, you don't want to sound like you're coming on to me."

"No, I most certainly don't," he muttered, with only a hint of sarcasm.

"Pardon?"

He flashed her a charming smile. "Oh, nothing. Now, do you know how to mount a broom?"

"Not from out of a window a few hundred feet above the ground." She replied smarmily, rolling her eyes.

"You are definitely not a morning person."

"We came to that conclusion ages ago."

"I'll get on first, and then I'll help you on, OK?"

"Sure. I'm sitting in the front."

"Why? So you can have my arms wrapped around you?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose in mock disgust. "No. So I don't go flying off the end."

He gave a laugh as he climbed onto the broom. He extended a hand to her, and she gingerly stepped up onto the window sill.

"If I ever want to commit suicide, I'll know where to jump from," Hermione said, forcing her eyes upwards.

"Look straight at me. You'll be fine."

"Sure I will." And with that, she climbed on in front of him, unsteadily, and felt his arms wrap around her middle. "There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home…"

"Granger?"

"Yes?" She replied, feeling a cool wind wash over her closed eyes.

"It's OK. I swear."

"I've always been taught to never trust a Slytherin. I believe it was one of the original Aesop fables."

He laughed once again, and brought the broom a little higher. "You can trust me, at the very least."

"I sort of have to at this point."

"Yeah," he replied, tightening his grip. "You sort of do."

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Now?"

"No."

"It smells funny."

"It's called fresh air. Not library must."

"If I could, I would hit you."

"Too bad for me then."

"I'm hungry."

"Which is why we're going for breakfast."

There was a lengthy pause as Draco started to bring the broom closer down. It was a perfect morning, just the right temperature, lovely sun, birds singing, all the things Slytherins weren't supposed to enjoy. But he was. It's all her fault I'm going soft, he thought. He began to be a bit irritated, partly because of his own un-Slytherin-like-ness, and partly because it was her fault. And then Hermione, with her horrible timing, has to speak.

"Are we there yet?"

"Oh, shut it Granger."

"You are such an asshole."

"We're here."

"This is the greenhouse Malfoy."

"I want to take you through the greenhouses, so we can smell the pretty flowers, and you can watch the sun sparkly through the glass."

"Really?"

"No. I simply can not be seen with you."

"If you were any more pompous…" She muttered, falling ungracefully onto the soft earth.

"I'd be royalty."

"You sound like you've given this a lot of thought."

"Of course not," he replied hastily, while Hermione grinned. "There's been something I've been meaning to ask you."

"Yes?"

"Do you think we should start dating? Just to make it the charade, as you so eloquently put it, seem more real?"

"Dearest Draco, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were asking me out on a formal date."

"Shocking that we've been together for a month now and have only engaged in conversation."

"Clearly quite shocking. So, where do you suggest we go?"

"I haven't thought about it yet."

"Careful planner, aren't you."

"I have been for all the other girls," he replied, giving her a smile and a wink and flying off for no particular reason.

"I wonder if he realizes he just told me I was different from other girls. I also wonder if he knows that I know that whole thing about continuing the charade was just a nice cover-up," Hermione said to herself as she trudged towards the castle. "Though watching the sun sparkle through the greenhouse would have been nice…"

The Great Hall was packed, but everyone was standing along one wall. Hermione quietly joined their ranks while watching the Headmaster walk in.

"They just told us to stand, Hermione. That's all I know," Harry said from her left, giving her a knowing smile. She smiled back, and turned to face the Headmaster.

"Students!" He spoke out clearly, receiving everyone's attention. "I have decided I'm going to change the seating plan a little. You will be sitting beside people from other houses, of a different gender, perhaps a different age. This will be a learning experience, I hope. If you would please close your eyes, you will be transported to your seat. Introduce yourself to the people on either side of you."

Everyone did as told, and felt a strange tingling sensation before being lifted into the air. Hermione opened her eyes to see a brown haired boy in the same year as her, Slytherin, on her left, and a blonde haired girl from Hufflepuff on her right.

"Hermione Granger," she said, extending a hand to the girl.

"Kayla Trew," the girl responded, giving Hermione a nervous look. She then spun to face the boy on her right, who was desperately trying to get her attention. They were soon involved in a heated discussion in a foreign language; Hermione didn't ask.

"Blaise Zabini," said the Slytherin on her left, and Hermione was immediately struck with the smooth tone of voice and way of handling himself. She shook his hand, gave him a pleasant smile, and looked up and down the table. She knew very few people, though she could see Lavender at the far end.

"Should we tell something about ourselves?" Hermione asked, with mock enthusiasm.

The boy recognized the sarcasm, and replied in an equally mocking tone "Well, I've always had this fetish for pink toothbrushes…"

Hermione smiled, and lowered her voice, looking behind her. "I sometimes have a craving for caviar and white chocolate."

Blaise gave her an appraising look, and straightened up with a short laugh. "It's nice to meet you, Hermione Granger. Those strange cravings wouldn't be brought on because of pregnancy, would they?"

She observed the slight change it voice. It went from charming to mocking in one fluid movement. "You mustn't believe everything you hear, Mr. Zabini." And with that, she turned to her plate of eggs and toast while he eyed her discreetly.

Blaise watched her. He watched her constantly, figured out where she went between classes, knew her schedule off by heart, and was fully prepared to put his plan into action.

Clearly, simply hurting Draco wasn't going to be enough. Hurting something he cared about; well, that was another matter. Blaise had speculated endlessly. He could hurt her physically. But that tactic hadn't fully worked the first time.

Emotional abuse. That would require considerable acting skills; love for a mudblood, after all, did not come easily to a Zabini, even if it was faked.

Mental abuse. Oh, yes. The one thing Slytherins are best at. But what if, he had thought, what if we mixed all three? Yes. Seduce her, mess with her mind and her fragile feminine emotions. It was all too easy.

Hermione's day had been easy. She'd sailed through her classes as always, talked to her friends, and given Malfoy the occasional sideways glance. She was walking back to her Common Room, where she knew Malfoy would be waiting in the hall just outside the portrait hole.

She couldn't, not for the life of her, think of a logical reason why she was letting Malfoy stay in her room. Well, there was one….But she'd rather not think about it.

Suddenly, a hand snaked out and yanked her into a small closet.

"What the fuck?" She said, in a very un-Hermione-like manner.

"Oh, pity Granger, that you're not as smart as I thought."

"Blaise?"

"Perceptive, aren't we?"

"It is dark in here."

"All the better then…" And before she knew what was happening, she'd been pressed up against one of the walls and was being kissed. Rater violently in fact. She muttered a quick charm, and he flew off of her.

"Never touch me again. And don't think I'll be so easily caught up in your charms. Rumours don't always lie, Zabini."

She stalked out of the closet, and kept a steady pace until she saw Malfoy. Then she let herself sink to her knees, and touch the bruises that were already beginning to form. This would be an interesting story to tell….

A/N: I needed to have something happen. Blaise seemed perfect…Sorry about the clichéd aspect of Draco being beaten up in the last chapter. (Please review, as always.)