[Author's Notes: I've decided to pick up the pace a bit. And since someone complained about not enough action, I decided to try a new style. Let's see how much you like this chapter. I feel it gives more of an insight into their heads, while letting something happen.

PLEASE EXCUSE THE FORMATING! QUICKEDIT WON'T LET ME CHANGE IT!]

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by JKR.

Plot: Draco/Hermione. Don't like it? Go somewhere else. This is my story. And I did warn you in the summary. As for the actual plot being original, no one has a copyright on the entire school idea. If so, Hollywood would be in serious trouble

Chapter 12: One Good Kick Deserves Another

Hermione Granger kicked herself mentally for the three hundred sixty-fourth time this week. She had been thinking about Malfoy. Again. She wanted to scream in frustration. It had been four days since what she was referring to as the "bizarre incident in the bathroom" with Malfoy and she was on the verge of losing it. Big time.

She wanted to scream and punch and jeer and taunt and basically tell Malfoy to leave her the fuck alone.

But she couldn't do that. The prat.

All he was doing was looking. There wasn't a crime in looking was there? Except his were deep, intense smoldering looks. Not that anyone else had noticed the way he was looking at her. He didn't stare at her pointedly all the time. He just seemed to do it when no one was paying attention, which was entirely too frequently for her peace of mind.

Not that Malfoy hadn't stared at her before. But since the "bizarre incident in the bathroom", it was different. She was aware of Malfoy. Too aware. She knew when he was looking at her and when he wasn't. She didn't even have to look up to see. In fact, she refused to acknowledge that Malfoy was looking at her. She refused to acknowledge that he was constantly in her thoughts. She refused to acknowledge that something had changed. But for the life of her, she didn't know what it was.

Hermione kicked herself mentally for the three hundred sixty-fifth time. It was going to be a long day. She had barely touched her own breakfast, playing with her food as she thought of Malfoy. Three hundred and sixty-six, she thought.

"Oy! Hermione! Do you think you could go over my Charms essay and see if I missed something?" Ron asked, his mouth full of muffins and strawberry jam.

"Ronald Weasley! If you can't speak with me civilly, I suggest you don't speak to me at all!" Hermione snapped and rose with a huff. She couldn't take this anymore. She managed to sling her overstuffed bookbag over her shoulder and left for the relative quiet of the Arithmancy classroom.

Ron looked with a puzzled expression to his other bestfriend. "What did I do wrong?" he asked.

Harry just shrugged and sighed and buried his thoughts in his morning cup of cocoa.

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Draco was having way too much fun torturing one Hermione Granger. He should have thought about this ages ago. Of course the girl was attracted to him. What girl wasn't?

Of course, it bothered him that it was this easy. Only four days, and Granger looked like she was about to crack from the pressure. Granted, they weren't speaking or she would have told him off with some choice language some time ago. But she clung to her stubborn Gryffindor pride and kept quiet. Oh, Draco could feel the steam rising from her, could tell that she was biting her tongue. She didn't want to be the first to give in. He was mildly surprised and almost a begrudging respect that she hadn't cracked yet. Merlin! Anyone else, even those in Slytherin would have caved in by now. Saintly Potter and Weasel Numbskull would have choked within five minutes. Really, it was amazing how fucking clueless those two were.

Granted, part of Granger's problem is that she didn't know what game Draco was playing, something he knew precisely. He was going to prove to Potter's little princess that he still commanded her attention; that despite everything, she could and did want him.

Not that he actually wanted her attention. So what if others found her pretty and attractive and shaggable. Really, the only true incentive to her was the fact that she was probably the last virgin in the Seventh Year. It would have rubbed his ego the wrong way if she had been a pureblood. But this was bloody Hermione Granger! He was Draco Malfoy! He knew his worth.

He bit into his almond scone and watched as Granger left the Great Hall in a huff.

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He was doing it again.

Hermione gritted her teeth, and started to make noisy sounds with her quill as she scribbled furiously. She became so absorbed in taking her Arithmancy notes that she didn't notice Seamus's raised eyebrows and quizzical gaze.

She wasn't going to turn around and confirm what she felt. She could feel the temperature rising up her spine. Hopefully, her cheeks weren't flushing. Thankfully, she always sat in the front of the class, so only those in her row and Professor Vector would notice.

Damn Malfoy! What was he trying to get at?

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Draco could barely contain his laughter. He had a nice direct view of Granger from his seat in the back. He could hear her quill from here. He was willing to bet 100 galleons that she was probably blushing.

Arithmancy was soon to become his favorite class. He could stare at Hermione all he wanted and not worry about any Slytherin noticing. He could stare at her all of the class period without anyone noticing.

Bollocks! He just thought of Granger as 'Hermione'.

Maybe he was staring at her too much. It was starting to affect his thought pattern.

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Except Draco Malfoy was not as slick as he wanted to pretend he was. Someone else noticed. Someone that had a full view of the classroom.

Professor Vector made a mental note, smiled and kept lecturing class.

The gossip session in the teacher's lounge would just get even more interesting with this recent new development.

Professor Vector couldn't wait to see the look on Professor Snape's face.

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You would think that her sitting next to Ron and Harry would deter those stupid looks that Malfoy kept sending her way. Obviously, it just went to prove that Malfoy was bloody suicidal. If Ron and Harry caught him looking at her like that, they'd beat him into a bloody pulp. Hermione took a grim satisfaction at that.

And then kicked herself for the 416th time for thinking about Malfoy. Again.

He was still giving her that long pointed look!

What was wrong with Ron and Harry? They are just so oblivious! How can they not notice that the prat was still looking at her? With those big luminescent silver eyes...

Kick #417.

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Did she seriously think that Pothead and Weasel King were going to deter him? Draco felt mildly insulted. Those two meant nothing to him, other than supreme annoyances. He actually wanted those two to notice. He could visualize the veins popping in both of their foreheads, the angry shouts and his cool but superior attitude to their childish tantrums.

Merlin! How dense could two people be? They still hadn't noticed! You could almost exchange them with Crabbe and Goyle because they certainly didn't notice a thing that was obviously in front of them.

Draco was so absorbed in this new game he was playing the Miss Goody Two Shoes that he didn't notice Millicent Bulstrode watching him.

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Blaise Zabini watched interestedly as Millicent Bulstrode whispered into Pansy Parkinson's ear. He'd talk to Millicent later. Right now, he was way more interested in Pansy's reaction. He saw as Pansy's eyes widened and filled with incredulity. She looked swiftly at Draco and followed his gaze across the Great Hall. Her face contorted in anger and she and Millicent exchanged a meaningful look.

Blaise took a look at what Draco was looking at and grinned enormously. He'd seen that look on Draco's face before and recognized it. He didn't expect Pansy to grasp the subtleties of Draco's behavior. Where Pansy would merely note Draco's interest in the pristine Head Girl, who seemed rather frazzled this morning, Blaise understood what Draco was ultimately trying to do. Which was to get Hermione Granger to acknowledge him, and thereby have power over her.

He smiled. This is why he enjoyed following Draco. He was good at what he did. Blaise's gaze idled over the Gryffindor table and he noticed his favorite head of red hair. She was listening intently to whatever Neville Longbottom and Colin Creevey was saying. Strange kid, that Creevey one. Although his camera became quite useful a number of times.

What a school year this year was turning out to be. Blaise decided it would time to start a betting pool on how long it would take before the entire situation exploded.

It almost made him feel like whistling.

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By now, Harry and Ron had noticed that something was very off with Hermione today. She was even more short tempered that usual, she literally growled when you talked to her but above all she was silent and jumpy. There was also a strange flush on her neck and cheeks.

Harry hoped that she wasn't getting sick. Hermione had the nasty inclination of running herself ragged every semester. Sometimes, it was too many classes. Other times it was just taking her examinations too seriously. He hoped that she wasn't already preparing for her N.E.W.Ts. She really did stress out too much.

Ron hoped that Hermione would check his Charms essay. He had the distinct feeling he was missing some crucial information but for the life of him, he couldn't remember what it was. Perhaps if he took better notes. Perhaps, if he hadn't spent most of last night playing Exploding Snap with Dean and Neville instead of doing some research, he wouldn't be missing two inches from it.

Neither of them noticed a certain Slytherin watching Hermione constantly. They noticed that he was looking their way. But seriously, who gave a flying fuck if the Slytherin Prat was looking smarmily their way? He probably was plotting something. Jealous Toad.

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Hermione hid out in the library that evening. She didn't like to think that she was actually hiding out from Malfoy. She wasn't afraid. She was just... irritated. She needed to be able to concentrate on her homework.

It had been heinous enough all day. Was everyone else blind? Hadn't anyone else noticed?

Besides, she liked spending time in the library. Surrounded by centuries of knowledge, she didn't have the pressures of having to answer a question. She was there learning, like everyone else. Books didn't care what you looked like. Books didn't care if you didn't talk to them. Books were there whenever you needed them. Not that Harry and Ron or any of the other Gryffindors weren't there when you needed them, but books simply weren't demanding at all.

She opened her Potions book and began to read.

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Draco was slightly peeved. Somehow, she had managed to run away from him. Of course, it pleased him that Granger had retreated. But it deprived him of his new favorite game. He had considered going to search for her. But he had Quidditch practice that afternoon. Besides, it wasn't like he was chasing after the annoying bushy haired bookworm. He simply enjoyed every opportunity he got to needle her.

Although, he wondered if Zabini had been hit by the Bludger too hard this evening. Blaise kept grinning idiotically at him. In the annoying 'I know something you don't' patented Zabini way.

He had wanted to talk to Zabini and shake what information Blaise had. Except that would have given Zabini the satisfaction that he had gotten to him.

So Draco had conducted a very vicious and exhausting workout.

Zabini still retained his idiotic grin.

Draco thought of Hermione Granger, smirked and decided he had earned himself a nice long bath.

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Hermione shut her Care of Magical Creatures book with a resounding snap and gathered up her books and school supplies. She had been able to have a productive few hours.

So what if she had missed dinner? She had missed dinner before. It certainly wasn't because of an arrogant ferret-faced Slytherin.

Hermione mentally groaned. She had been doing so well. She kicked herself mentally for the 678th time. She had managed to stop thinking about him for a few hours. Why did she have to start back up? The last thing she wanted to do is have her free time consumed by thoughts of Draco Malfoy, bad boy extraordinaire.

Kick #679.

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Draco walked into his common room and saw that there was the customary cup of cocoa waiting for Granger, which meant that she wasn't here. Not that it mattered, he still had priority to the bathroom as previously stipulated in their agreement.

And right now, he didn't care if Miss Prissy Gryffindor was in or not, he wanted to soak his cold and battered body in a nice hot bath. And just forget how exhausted he was. And how much homework he still had to do.

He filled the tub and haphazardly tugged his clothes off. He sank into the tub and closed his eyes.

And promptly fell asleep, drugged by the heat of the bath water and his own exhaustion.

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Hermione snagged her cup of cocoa waiting for her in the common room and drank deeply. She was a little chilled from her stay in the library. A nice long bath would be perfect.

She got undressed in her room and put on her faded pink bathrobe. And then proceeded to walk into the bathroom.

Only to find a very naked Draco Malfoy asleep in the bathtub.

Hermione's brain stopped functioning. It stopped working at all. She just goggled. Her hormones broke loose and raged.

He. Was. Beautiful.

Hermione's face turned bright red. She didn't want to think she was attracted to Draco Malfoy. She didn't want to find him heartbreakingly beautiful and deliciously vulnerable lying naked in the bathroom they shared.

She got hot but brushed it off as the heat from the bathtub's water.

After a few seconds of just mindless staring, her brain snapped back into functionality. She remembered to breathe again. With oxygen flowing through her brain, she made a decision.

She ran back into her room and slammed the door.

But this time, she didn't kick herself for thinking about Draco Malfoy.