Disclaimer: Yeah, I own nothing. Not the characters, not the setting, not the concept of magic, not even this damn computer that keeps screwing up. OH, OH OH OH! I do own something! I own the Moonlight Flibbergibbets! As far as I know…

Detention time! Yay! Or not, considering if you were the student serving the detention, or some bystander watching the said student walking up to Hagrid's hut. Can you say dead student walking? Reader: Dead student walking

Hermione and Malfoy arrived at Hagrid's at precisely the same time from precisely opposite directions. Because they're special like that.

Hagrid beamed down at the two. "Good. You're bo'f here. Now, tonigh', we're goin' to be collectin' Moonligh' Flibbergibbets."

Malfoy and Hermione traded looks. "Professor, what's a Flibbergibbet?"

"Moonligh' Flibbergibbet. I'm surprised you didn' know, Hermione! A Moonligh' Flibbergibbet is a sma' spiny creature… abou' the size of your fist. Not Malfoy's or mine, 'cause you've got such small hands. It's brown, with brigh' blue eyes. You'll be able t' see them in tha dark. It's spines are full of venom tha's used in lo's of potions. Be carefu' though, you're in trouble if you're stung. And they breathe fire."

"Great," said Malfoy sarcastically. "Then how are we supposed to catch them?"

"Tha's part of you're detention!" said Hagrid. "I'm sure the two smar'est studen's of the school can figure ou' how to catch Moonligh' Flibbergibbets!" with that he left. No if's and's or but's.

"I'm going to kill you Malfoy. Slowly and painfully. Maybe I'll put a Moonlight Flibbergibbet in your bed," she mused.

"Okay, might as well get started. First we need something to hold them. But what?"

"Like I said, I'm better than you," said Hermione, holding up a jar that she had already transfigured from an old nutshell. Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Where do we look?"

"How should I know? Now, shall we enter the forest?" she said, staring at him evilly for a long moment.

"What?" he asked finally, as she was looking at him piercingly.

"As I remember, last time you were in the forest, you… sort of lost it," she said giggling. "We could hear you screaming all the way in the castle."

"I was a mere boy," drawled Malfoy, annoyed. With that, he strutted straight into the heart of the forest. Hermione followed close behind.

After a few minutes, they couldn't see the moon anymore. The hairs on the back of Hermione's neck prickled. "Lumos," she whispered.

"Put that out."

"Why?"

"So much for being the brightest witch in the school. Hagrid said you can see their eyes in the dark. So put the light out."

"Nox. But now we can't see where we're going," she complained. "Shit!" she ran into a wall. A wall? What the hell?

"What now?" asked Malfoy from somewhere ahead of her and to the right.

"I just ran into a freaking wall!"

"There are no walls in the middle of the forest."

"Then how did I just run into one? I can't see where you are. Come back here."

With an audible sight, Malfoy walked back to where he could hear Hermione. And ran into a wall. "Dammit!"

"You just ran into a wall, didn't you?" asked Hermione, giggling.

"Shut up mudblood."

"Just pointing out the facts, my little slick ass ferret."

"Since when did I become your little slick ass ferret?"

"When I started calling you little slick ass ferret. Lumos," she lit her wand again. It shone on an old cabin. In the middle of the Forbidden Forest. Strange.

Malfoy also lit his wand, and was inspecting the cabin. Something howled in the forest. Hermione gave a little yelp, then shuddered. It sounded like a wolf. It howled again. Closer.

"Oh fck!" said Hermione. "Do you know what tonight is?"

"The first of a very long week of detentions?"

"The full moon!" Malfoy's eyes widened, and they both flinched at the sound of the wolf, now presumed werewolf, as it announced with another howl that it scented prey.

The two sixteen-year-olds rushed into the cabin, bolting the door behind them. Malfoy lit the fire, as well as the candles placed here and there. Hermione inspected the cabin.

"I can't believe this," she said at last, sitting down on the couch.

"What?" asked Malfoy, doing his own inspection. "That we're stuck together because our teachers can't remember that it's a full moon?"

"No! That our teachers set us up so we'd be stuck together because it's a full moon!" Malfoy looked confused. "Don't you get it? There's no such thing as a Moonlight Flibbergibbet, or I would have read something about them. And didn't you notice that there isn't any dust in our conveniently abandoned cabin? And that we didn't hear the 'werewolf' until we GOT to the cabin? Don't you think it's funny that the appearance on the inside of this place is new, while the outside is old?"

"Damn, I CAN'T believe we got stuck with this!" yelled Malfoy.

"I betcha that isn't even a real werewolf out there," said Hermione. "I'm leaving."

"Right behind you."

Hermione grabbed the door handle and tried to open it. It wouldn't budge. She grabbed it with both hands and started jumping up and down. Malfoy just sat there and laughed.

"Looks like a job for a man," he said.

"Good, where are we going to find one?" asked Hermione.

Malfoy glared. "Move." And Hermione moved. He gripped the handle and tried to twist it. Nothing. He tried with both hands. Finally, he pulled out his wand. "Alohamora!" nothing. "I can't believe this."

Hermione was rummaging through the cabinets, and finding all sorts of things. "Oh look," she said dryly. "I conveniently found some floo powder, but not enough to transport us into Hogwarts. She tossed a pinch in the fire and stuck her head in. "HEADMASTER!" she screamed. She looked over and saw Malfoy's head beside hers.

"Ah, Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure," said Dumbledore with twinkling eyes.

"PLEASE let us out!" pleaded Malfoy. "We haven't been in here but five minutes, and I'm already losing it!"

"I'll let you out when you resolve your differences," said Dumbledore, walking away and laughing maniacally.

The two pulled their heads back into the cabin. Malfoy looked at Hermione.

"Do you think he meant it?"

"Well," said Hermione. "I don't think he can keep us in here the rest of our lives, so, no."

"Good."

Hermione and Draco never did get out of that cabin. They refused to solve their differences, and thus died years later, all alone, still screaming at each other. Okay, joking, back to the story.

Anyway, so I'm not going to kill my main characters, now am I? I didn't think so. Stop looking at me like that. I'm sorry! STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT! Oh, not the puppy dog eyes! Quit it! Do you want to read this story or not?

"Oh. My. God," said Hermione.

"What?"

"There. Is. Only. One. Bed," she shuddered.

"No way."

"Yeah, I call it."

"You can't do that, you little mudblood!" yelled Malfoy.

"Well I'm not sleeping on the floor or the couch, you little slick ass ferret!"

"Well neither am I!"

"Oh be the man and sleep on the couch," goaded Hermione.

"Uh, no."

"Ha ha, I knew you were a woman!"

"Gryffindor bitch."

"Slytherin bastard. Now, do we HAVE to go on with the name-calling, or can we leave it at that?"

Malfoy glared. "So, how are we supposed to get by?"

"Well, the cupboards are full of food, and they magically restock, so we don't have to worry about that. And there's a closet full of what looks like clothes that are our size. I also found a bathroom complete with a shower, jacuzzi tub, and everything. So we could technically be here for a while. A long while. Actually, I think we could be here forever."

"Great," said Malfoy dryly. "I don't see how they expect us to sort out our differences in one night, when we've hated each other since we met."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Weren't you paying attention? They don't expect us to sort it all out in one night. That's why there's a bed, a shower, and unlimited food!"

Malfoy cursed. "Did I squish some sacred beetle or something?"

Hermione looked at him quizzically.

"Karma."

"Oh," she said, getting it. "Either that or I did."

"So."

"So."

"What are we going to do to keep from dying of boredom?"

Hermione twitched. "I found some games, but they're all two player."

Malfoy twitched. "So. We'll die from boredom, then?"

"Yes, it seems so. Unless we can get Dumbledore to send us our homework or something."

"Uh, if I'm stuck in a cabin, missing school, the last thing I want to be doing is homework."

"So you'd rather get along with me?" asked Hermione, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay, I take that back. If I get bored enough, I'll asked Dumbledore to send our homework."

"Chances are he won't do it," said Hermione thoughtfully.

"And unfortunately, you're probably right."

"You know, for once in my life, I hate being right."

For a while, they sat without talking. Hermione was thinking about who she was stuck in the cabin with.

Draco Malfoy. But who is Draco Malfoy? The Slytherin Prince, for one. He's my sworn enemy. Is he? Voldemort was my sworn enemy, but Blaise and I killed him. She shuddered at the realization.

But Voldemort is never really gone. He lives on through his death eaters, through Harry's scar, through those he has tortured, those he has murdered. He lives through whoever the new Dark Lord is. And who is that? I'm sure Blaise knows, but she isn't speaking. Which means it's someone close to her. And what of the prophecy? The Dragon will take the place of the Snake; the Prince of Darkness will end the final war.

But how will the war end? Does it mean the Dragon will do what Voldemort could not? Overthrow the light? Or does it mean the Dragon will give in to the light?

The Dragon. Draco. No. No way. The Slytherin Prince. The Prince of Darkness. Oh. My. God. I'm trapped in a cabin in the middle of the Forbidden Forest during a full moon with the new Dark Lord. The only way this could get worse would be if he were a werewolf. Or a vampire… Oh my god. Malfoy IS the new Dark Lord.

She looked at Malfoy. He met her eyes. There he saw fire, anger, intense loathing, and beneath it a shadow of fear. He had never known Hermione to fear anything, so this startled him.

Oh no. I'm stuck in a cabin with her; if she figured it out, I'm DEAD. I'll be killed, murdered, slaughtered, lynched, hanged, destroyed, drawn and quartered, Avada'd, assassinated, massacred, blown off the face of the earth, and overall just dead! But, she IS the smartest witch in our year, probably EVER! There's no reason she wouldn't have figured it out, I mean I AM the Slytherin Prince, which puts me in bad enough a position as it is. I've never been nice to her. I'm sure she knows I was a Death Eater. And on top of that, everyone who doesn't know I'm the Dark Lord thinks I'm the Dark Lord. And if she knows of the prophecy… She couldn't. Could she?

"Uh, Granger…"

"Oh. My. God. You. You're the… Oh. My. God. Ohmygod. I would say, 'I can't believe it', but, you know… I can. Oh fck. I'm in a cabin. In the middle of the Forbidden Forest. During the full moon. With the—"

"Don't," said Malfoy. "Why would you think that?" a bead of sweat rolled down his face.

"Oh, please Malfoy. I'm the smartest witch in the school, I thought we already went through this. Besides, there are so many clues, someone with half my intelligence—"

"—Someone normal?" interrupted Malfoy.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Could figure it out. The dragon will take place of the snake. The Prince of Darkness. You're the Slytherin Prince. Blaise won't tell me who it—oh shit." Hermione realized she had not only revealed that she knew of the prophecy, but that she was friends with Blaise.

"What makes you think Blaise knows who the new Dark Lord is?" asked Draco nervously.

Hermione laughed in his face. "Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy. You are second in our class, but blind to what happens around you. Don't you see it? A new era is forming. This is our time. The time for the younger witches and wizards. Can't you feel it? A new Dark Lord has come to power. Dumbledore can't live forever. And when someone takes his place? Then what? The old era is dying, Malfoy. Those who are coming to power are those closest to us. It is time to read the signs around you. Now, I know this is hard for you, but think. Have you even pondered who killed Voldemort?"

And Malfoy thought. What is she talking about? How could she know so much? Unless… no, it's not possible. Oh snap out of it! Read the signs, like Granger said. Who killed Voldemort? Why would Blaise tell Granger who the new Dark Lord is? How does she know of the prophecy? Oh my god. Blaise and Granger killed Voldemort. This is their fault! No. Blaise wouldn't have… But she's been so… odd lately. And the other day in class, Blaise sat with Potter… Why was I so bloody blind? I can't believe it! And who will take over after Dumbledore? No. But of course. Someone with wit and cunning. Someone like Granger. Of course.

"So," he hissed. "What was your reward for the death of Voldemort?"

Hermione was taken aback at the pure venom in his voice. "Just that the world would be free again. Malfoy, if you turned yourself in—"

"That would be weakness! For some reason, the Dark Lord wanted you to be brought to him, to serve on our side. I see it now. Do you, Granger?"

"What?" asked Hermione, startled.

"What lies in your future."

"No," she whispered. "I live for the now, not the when."

"You truly don't see it? What happens when Dumbledore's gone, Granger? When the leader of the light is extinguished?"

Hermione was slightly scared now. "Well… Harry will take his place, of course."

"No, Granger, you're wrong. It's you. When Dumbledore dies, you'll be left to lead in his place. Have you not heard the rest of the prophecy?" Hermione shook her head, looking down, but keeping one eye on Malfoy. "It's rather interesting, really. 'When the Snake falls, the Dragon will come to power. The Prince of Darkness will rule over the shade. He will draw the Lioness to him, and of her own free will she will follow. The but the cunning and sly of the Lioness rivals that of the Dragon. Upon him a light she will cast, and the final war will be at an end. The Lioness will beat the Dragon at his own game. She will tame him, and lead him to a point where he must ponder his place. If they should combine, immortal they will be, inseparable they will stand. And forge a link in light and dark, combine."

"But that could be anyone—" Hermione argued.

"Think what you will, Granger. I just didn't think Precious Potter seemed much like a lioness to me. Don't you see it? The Lioness. Who is it? A Gryffindor, no doubt. A certain sly, cunning, witty Gryffindor. The leader of the light. Does it not make sense?" by now, his voice was soft and alluring. Hermione couldn't help falling for the famous Malfoy charm. Then she caught herself.

What the hell! You can't fall for Malfoy! He's an arrogant Slytherin bastard, and the Dark Lord at that! That's just wrong!

"Look, Malfoy," said Hermione stonily. "I don't know what you're playing at, but you'd bloody better stay away from me. Or you'll find yourself in the next millennium. Got that?"

"Granger, it's inevitable. I don't know why, or how, or when, but it will happen. You can't deny it."

"Deny WHAT, Malfoy!" she asked, angry at being kept in the dark by Dumbledore.

"Were you not listening! 'He will draw the Lioness to him, and of her own free will she will follow. The but the cunning and sly of the Lioness rivals that of the Dragon. Upon him a light she will cast, and the final war will be at an end. The Great Battle foretold rests with the Lioness and the Dragon, the leaders of each. If they should combine, immortal they will be, inseparable they will stand. And forge a link in light and dark, combine.'"

"Malfoy, that means nothing to me. Nothing, okay? Who are we to know who the Lioness is? It could be anyone. Hell, for all we know it's Lavender, or Parvati, or Ginny, or even McGonagall!"

"Except for the fact that the cunning and sly of the Lioness rivals that of the Dragon. I don't know why it's going to happen, Granger, but it is; you know it."

"I will not follow you of my own free will, Malfoy. You're the fcking Dark Lord!"

Malfoy looked down. "In title, yes. In image, yes. But do you think that's who I am?" he asked her softly, meeting her honey colored eyes.

Hermione searched his stormy gray eyes, surprised. In his eyes, she found no malice, or anger. There was no betrayal, no hate. She found hurt, fear, and something that only flitted through his eyes, something he quickly hid, so she couldn't identify it.

"I didn't want to be the Dark Lord," he said. "I became a Death Eater when I was a boy, only fourteen, and blinded by power. When Potter had my father sent to Azkaban, and he died, I became the heir. Does anyone realize how awful it is to be the son of a Death Eater? Being the Dark Lord is hell, Granger. It isn't something I'd always dreamed of. It's something that happened because my father was a Death Eater, simple as that. I admire you, envy you."

"Why?" she asked, startled. "You have everything. A rich boy who gets the second best grades in school, flies on the Slytherin Quidditch team, can do practically anything, and do it really well. Why would you envy me?"

"Because, Granger, you're free. You can to whatever the bloody hell you want. And you've got guts. I mean, you killed effing Voldemort!"

"I'm not brave, Malfoy," she told him quietly. "I hide behind knowledge and books, I calculate and plan. It isn't my nature to go busting into something as big as, well, you know. I was bloody terrified when I pulled off that invisibility cloak. I mean, what would have happened if he reacted first? He could have killed Blaise and me!"

"There's risk in everything, Granger. Some risks are just greater than others."

"But what about you?" she snapped. "If you hate being the Dark Lord so much, why don't you turn yourself in? They'll only imprison you if you've done murder. Have you done murder?"

He gave her a look. "No, I've not done murder. Voldemort only sent wizards and witches out of school on killing sprees. For some reason that made sense to him. And I never sent any of the Death Eaters to kill anyone, either. I can't turn myself in, though. Don't you understand? I am the Dark Lord. They'd probably kill me on spot."

"Do you want to be the Dark Lord?"

"We already went through this. NO."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "So offer them the names of all guilty Death Eaters to the Ministry, but keep the innocents to yourself. Do it under Truth Serum, so they can be positive you're not lying. Give all the names in exchange for clemency. Also under Truth Serum, tell them that you never sent your Death Eaters to do murder, and you, yourself, never committed murder. The sooner you do this, the better."

Malfoy thought for a moment. "That might work. Oh my god, I could kiss you right now!"

Hermione looked slightly startled, and ALMOST hopeful. Almost. I mean like ALMOST. "So you'll do it?"

He looked at her. Then Malfoy paused, and studied her. He didn't detect so much as a trace of trickery. She was being honest. She didn't want him to be the Dark Lord (duh), and she was giving him a way out of it. "Yes," he told her.

They sat for a while, and Hermione finally asked, "Why are you so cruel?"

The question didn't surprise Malfoy. "Because I have to be," he said simply.

"But you aren't, really. Not away from your friends and such. It's just a show for the Death Eaters, then?"

Curse her brains, curse her brains, CURSE HER BRAINS. "Yeah, basically. I mean, I'm really not as bad as I make out to be. But, you know, when my father was alive, he'd use the Crucaitus curse on me if I didn't act exactly as I was supposed to, or if I befriended the wrong people." Hermione gasped. "So it just became sort of a habit."

"Oh, Malfoy."

He shrugged. "I lived with it for fifteen years, but I don't have to anymore, it's fine."

Hermione looked around. "I wonder if we could get through the windows." She mused sleepily. So Malfoy tried to open the windows, but to no avail. Whether he tried magic, or just used strength, they stayed firmly closed.

"So much for that idea."

"Yep. What's it like being a pureblood?"

Okay, random question. "If you come from an obsessed family like mine, you're expected to marry to another pureblood by the time you're eighteen, you'll probably have to follow the Dark Lord, if your parents follow him, and basically associate only with purebloods and follow in your father's footsteps. Unless, of course, you're a woman. Then if your family follows Voldemort, so do you, you're expected to marry by eighteen to a rich, pureblood family, and stay forever at home with the children. And either way, your marriage is arranged." He winced.

"Who's your wife-to-be?" asked Hermione sympathetically.

"Pansy and Blaise's mothers have been duking that out since we were all born. I'm not sure what would be worse: being married to Pansy or my best friend."

"At least Blaise has a brain," said Hermione.

"Good point. But it would be weird."

"Not necessarily."

"You wouldn't find it weird if you were married to Potter?"

"Okay, you're right, it would be weird."

"Thank you."

"But think, Malfoy. Who's to stop you from marrying who you want now that your father's gone?"

"Really, I could just kiss you right now!"

"What's to stop you?" asked a voice.

Malfoy gave Hermione a weird look. She returned with a glare. "Did that sound like my voice?" she asked.

"No," he said sheepishly.

Hermione looked around, and saw the last sparks of green fade from the fire. "Oh come ON!" she said.

"What?"

"Someone was just in the fire. Dumbledore is my guess. Damn, this is ANNOYING! Screw this." She stood up and pulled out her wand. "Bombardo!" she screamed. The spell shot out of her wand, speeding for the wall, where it's purpose was to blow a hole. The spell hit the wall, and ricocheted off. Malfoy tackled Hermione and pinned her to the floor to keep her out of harm's way as the spell bounced around the room. Finally, it went into the fire and exploded, temporarily turning the fire green.

Hermione looked up into Malfoy's steel colored eyes. "I'm not sure whether to thank you or hit you," she said, humor twinkling in her eyes.

"And why would you hit me?"

"Because you're lying on top of me, a position I don't always like being in."

"What about now?" he was very hopeful of the answer.

"Well… no." with that, she pushed him off of her. Malfoy was very surprised by her answer, because she had been acting so warm towards him. Apparently she just wasn't there yet. But now, Malfoy was determined to get to her. Much like James's obsession for Lily, Malfoy was beginning to have an obsession for Hermione.

He looked up. She was gone. He found that she had changed into a tank top and pajama pants, and was lying in the middle of the bed, trying to sleep. Malfoy went into the walk-in closet, and looked at what was there. Hermione had been vague when she said there were clothes that looked to be their sizes. The clothes in the closet were theirs. Malfoy exited the closet wearing only boxers. Hermione noticed this when she saw him, and tried to keep herself from noticing his lean-muscled body. It was really difficult.

Then, to her complete horror, he climbed into the bed next to her, forcing her to either scoot over, or be pressed against him. Hermione hurriedly scooted to the other side of the bed.

"What the hell! I called the bed! Go sleep on the couch!"

"No." Hermione tried to push him out, which didn't work very well, considering he was so much bigger than she. Finally, she gave up, and laid down, back turned to him.

Malfoy sighed inwardly. Was she ever going to stop this?