A/N- Hey everyone! Sorry for the long wait. I know I said updates in one week, but I think it's going to have to be 1-2 weeks. :( It's just that school is crazy and I do things almost every night, and I hate saying 'one week' and then it's not up. So, I hope that's all right with everyone. But I promise I won't have it any longer than two weeks.

So, I LOVED the responses from last chapter. Thank you so much :) Keep telling me what you think of the story because feedback is great and makes me smile, a lot. And I realize it may seem like they're never going to get together with the rate they fight, but don't worry- they will! Just think of all the aggression they have now, and then what it'll be like when the romance happens!

Okay so enough talking, on with the story (this chapter is a little random, but I need it for the problems in the next one :)

Ch6- "You know what Malfoy, you want to participate? I know the perfect costume for you. Why don't you dress as your father? That way, you don't have to act different or alter your appearance at all. It would be just like going as yourself."

He stared at her, long and hard, her concentration not breaking either. He didn't seem hurt or upset. And most definitely not offended. He showed unadulterated hatred. He was pissed.

Hermione couldn't look at him anymore, he was almost starting to scare her. She blinked, cleared her throat, and addressed the rest of the students in the happiest voice she could muster while Draco turned and walked out the classroom.

"So, did everyone finish their voting?"

Chapter 7- Hogsmeade Weekend

Hermione stood in the bathroom the next morning, pausing between brushes to stare blankly in the mirror. Though she looked like she was grooming herself, the stokes were mechanical as she thought about the previous night.

She had done it again. She brought up his fucking father. It was as if she had no control over her words although she knew exactly what she was saying. And though she believed whole-heartedly that Draco did not deserve sympathy from her in any way, she also knew that bringing up his father repeatedly was beginning to sound shameful.

Malfoy's father was an extremely delicate, 'don't-mention-it-if-you-like-breathing' subject to Draco. Any reference to it at all would easily put him in a quick-tempered mood. It was obvious why; Draco looked up to him, and now he was dead… Or was he? She didn't really know. Last she heard, he was imprisoned. But if he was dead- then wow would she be horrible for using his name negatively.

But then again, why should she even care? She told herself she didn't but then where were all these Draco-analyses coming from? And goddamnit, she was doing it again. She was making herself feel guilty in a 'double-edge-sword' situation, when it was his fault to begin with. He'd instigate the fights, she'd defend herself, and then he would take it personal and get mad. And if she chose the alternative and didn't argue back- he would accuse her of being cowardly and get mad anyway. How is that fair? Exactly, it wasn't. So no, she refused to be pathetic and apologize for her words. Words she meant to say; ones he needed to hear. (Not unless Malfoy miraculously decided to apologize for all the muggle-born comments in the past 6 years and counting.

Yeah……she didn't think so either.)

But how was she going to try this 'truce' if he wasn't speaking to her?

Hermione didn't even flinch when she heard him slam close his bedroom door.

She did however, jump a little when he forcefully shoved open the bathroom door, and let the knob imprint the wall.

What the hell was his problem now? Surely he couldn't be this mad from last night. Yes he had walked out on her, and she didn't hear him come in until around eleven that night, but was he still fuming?

"Malfoy, what gives you the right to break the doors around here? That's actually vandalizing school property."

He stopped and looked down at her with a disgusted look on his face, raised an uneasy eyebrow, and walked next to her to stand in front of his side of the sink.

Hermione suddenly felt very self-conscious. She hadn't seen that childish sort of face since around 4th year. A look of pure disgust.

He ignored her and started fumbling around with the toiletries that were behind his faucet, pushed back against the mirror. He rearranged them for a few good seconds before he stopped, looked at her accusingly and said in an annoyed voice, "What did you touch."

"I borrowed a tissue out of that little pack on the right-"

"Don't."

"Alright, I won't." She furrowed her brows, not surprised but a little insulted, and continued brushing her hair.

He turned back around to face the mirror, moved some more things around for another minute, and then started brushing his teeth.

Hermione subtly started at him for a moment, quickly wondering if muggles and wizards shared some of the same 'problems'.

They stood there in silence; no playful banter, no arguments, nothing.

Once again, she was having an internal battle with herself. At times she would open her mouth to say something, but quickly closed it in realizing that pleasantries and small-talk like "how did you sleep" were pointless since both knew neither cared at all. And there was a strong possibility that he wouldn't answer her if she asked. But wanted him to stay something because she was extremely uncomfortable right now.

Not that she was afraid of him, (at least she didn't think she was) nor was it because she wanted to say the right things. It was just that silence was making her nervous, and his odd behavior was not helping.

"Are you going to say something, Granger? I heard talking to oneself isn't too healthy," drawled Draco in a frustrated tone, though it sounded as if there was some teasing in there.

"It's not as if I was conversing with myself out loud."

"Why not? I think you and yourself would get along smashingly."

"I'm sure," she said sarcastically. She turned towards the mirror again ready to go back into her thinking state. But before she did, she asked another question. One that kept nagging her, "Where were you last night?"

"Wasn't I in the common room?"

"Er—No...? I didn't see you."

"And that's all you need to know."

"….Were you mad about last night?"

"I guess I should make it clearer when I'm done talking."

"Why are you acting as if you're upset with me? Was it what I said about-?"

"Granger, I don't like you. You shouldn't be surprised if I show anger and-or aggression when you're in my presence-"

"Well, I'd rather you yell at me than mope around here all day like someone just stole your broom."

"I am not moping."

"You are to."

"Granger--"

"And whatever I said should not have affected you that much since you never give second thought to what I say anyway. BUT for some reason last night you did… and though I meant every word-"

"Then we have nothing to talk about," spat Draco as he turned and walked past her and out the door.

"Draco is he dead?" she said quietly, hesitantly walking behind him for she was afraid he might strike her.

"Granger will you stop already! I don't know if he's dead, alright? I don't know if he's dead, nor do I care, I didn't get in 'til late because I was out talking to Blaise, I couldn't give two shits less about what you said during the meeting, and no, I am not 'upset' with you anymore than the normal standard of hatred I display for you daily. Does that answer your questions?"

"I, I wasn't trying to…I mean, I did want to know but-"

"Okay. Illiteracy aside, I think this conversation is over."

"Fine," she sighed, and walked back into the bathroom.

He turned from her and walked towards the kitchen, dragging his legs in his baggy green plaid pajamas. Draco, of course, was not wearing a shirt 'yet' because he said that 'September and October were the hot months,' though the temperature was starting to fall. The first time he came out his room it caught her off guard, but since she did not see Draco in a positive light, she looked passed all of his better qualities…like his beautiful body.

"I need to shower so hurry up."

"I'll get out when I'm good and ready."

"Why the hell did they not give me my own bathroom?"

"Quit whining and wait a minute," She scolded from the doorway, and continued to brush her teeth. Before she went back in the mirror, her eyes fell on his arm, and she wondered how the dark mark disappeared. Hermione was almost positive that if Voldemort had known there was a fifty percent chance he would fail against Harry, he would not have wanted his followers to be relieved of his mark once he was gone. If anything, he would want them to suffer with the mark along with him. And she knew Malfoy had one; she saw it that night. The question was, how did he get it off?

Hermione knew better than to ask him, so she figured she would research it later.

"Oh Granger? We have to go to Hogsmeade."

"What?"

"Don't make me repeat myself," he moaned.

"When?"

"Er—how about, today?"

"No. I don't want to spend my first weekend here with you."

"Is that any way to talk to your husband?"

"I can think of a lot worse."

"Don't kill the messenger. No need for bloodshed."

"Why would Dumbledore want us to go?"

"Well, it seems that someone came up with the brilliant idea of a Halloween Ball. And an even better someone decided to approve of it. So, he wants up to start planning it--"

"Already?"

"—because it takes a while to make it a 'success'. AND he thought it would be a better way for us to spend more time together as newlyweds."

"Oh Merlin…"

"And don't forget the wink at the end."

"He knows."

"What?" he asked sharply, the joking gone.

"He knows. Dumbledore knows everything."

"But not this. There's no way…Did you say--?"

"Malfoy please. I didn't tell him anything. I like my life, thank you.--"

Draco rolled his eyes and threw his water into the sink.

"He's a wise man, Malfoy I'm surprised he hasn't noticed sooner." She tried to reason.

"He couldn't read our minds sooner, that's why."

"Malfoy all you have to do is look closely to us. We don't look blissfully happy. We might when we're together but not when we're apart. It's painfully obvious but everyone is deceived by all the publicity it's getting."

"What the fuck am I paying you for then?"

"Oh like you're some George Clooney!"

"Speak like a bloody witch Granger. I don't understand your primitive muggle language."

Hermione closed her eyes and breathed slowly. This would turn into another heated argument which would just make the day seem longer.

"I'll do better if you try to."

"You can bet you're arse you will."

"You too Malfoy, you're not perfect."

Draco just scoffed and ignored that statement. "I need the shower now."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Draco came out his room dressed and ready an hour later, and called for Hermione. Finding no answer, he stood at the top of the stairs and scanned the room with his eyes for anything out of place. If he knew her, she would have been responsible and left him clue to where she was—

There.

He jogged down the stairs and picked up the note taped on the refrigerator door.

I should be back by the time you've finished. And if you're reading this now, then I'll be there in five minutes.

"Unbelievable."

He sat on the couch facing the door, making it look like he was waiting for hours.

Hermione came in the door with a slightly guilty look on her face.

"Did you read the note?"

"No. I came out and you weren't here. I've been sitting here for a half hour."

"Oh."

"And now we're already behind on all the things we have to do today."

"Malfoy it's only eleven. I think we'll be fine."

"We better be." He got up and went to grab his robe.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy..."

He looked up at her. Was she actually apologizing?

"I didn't know...that you could lie so well."

His face dropped.

"Too bad the note was charmed. I knew when you read it. And I also know that you wouldn't sit here patiently waiting for me to come back. If anything, you would have left and made me find you. Nice try though, you should use some of that acting today."

He looked as if he would yell, but he didn't. Only smirked, "Someone did their homework."

"I was saying bye to Harry and Ron."

"Because you won't see them later," he drawled knowingly.

"I was letting them know so they wouldn't come looking—you know what? Let's just leave."

"After you…"

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000

The streets of hogsmeade were busy; filled with buzzes of conversations and clicking noises of many feet hitting the stone pavement. Many students were there and the number of adults was numerous as well. The queue for the candy store was out into the street, and the central food pubs had many customers flocking in and out of the stores. It was a typical, first Hogsmeade weekend.

The funniest thing had to be Draco and Hermione.

They were walking down the streets, looking like everything but bickering enemies. Walking slowly, laughing, and actually looking at each other as they talked. Albeit the gestures were forced, it looked even more natural than before. Strange. The funny thing was that they were truly arguing about everything under the sun. Quiddich, Arithmacy, Muggles, everything.

Draco wanted to scream in her face until she cried, and Hermione felt like slapping him. Hard. She knew once they were alone tonight the shouts were going to evolve tenfold because both were insulted and frustrated. Emotionally drained. Whenever they walked into an empty store, completely empty, they would separate so fast that one would never assumed they knew each other…But that person would have to be sheltered and never read the papers, magazines, or talk to anyone.

Right now they were in a bookstore. Draco only went in because he knew she wouldn't open her mouth once she found something. And that made him want to pick her up and carry her into the bookstore himself.

Hermione ran over to the reference books, looking for anything that would tell her more about the Dark Mark. She knew she shouldn't be prying because they had a deal…but ever since this morning she had to know.

Nothing in the books would tell her anything about the mark, let alone removing it. If anything, it called it a 'dark wizard's mark that signaled the close followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'. Hermione almost snorted at how funny that sounded…but she deemed it disrespectful and didn't.

Huffing in frustration, she skimmed through any Dark Wizard's books she could touch, but most were biographies. Expect for this bizarre autobiography of a Death Eater who 'saw the light' and turned good. As cheap as it sounded, she flew through the pages until she found where he talked of the mark. Unfortunately, it read that even after he left, he still could not rid himself of it, serving him as an 'ugly reminder to the life he once led'.

How the hell did Malfoy do it?

"Are you ready?"

"Um. Yes."

He looked at her crossly, but then turned and walked towards the exit.

They walked down the street, occasionally stopping to look in smaller stores, but they were really looking for the Costume store.

Finding it next to a tea shop, they walked it, getting blinded by all the flashy lights.

"Why the hell did you choose this again?" he whispered sharply to her, guiding them past the busy entrance.

"It seemed like a nice idea. And that poor 5th year boy needed some help. Pansy was so horrid."

"What he needed was to grow some and talk back. Push his ideas forward if he wanted a say."

Hermione sucked her teeth and ignored him, "There are things back here"

He was about to follow her, but stopped short and grabbed the inside of her elbow and turned her towards him. "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Are we wizards or not?"

"Well, I'm a witch, but yes, go on."

"Then why are we wasting time here? A flick of the wand and bam…we have decorations."

"Because not all things should be done by magic." She said as-a-matter-of-factly.

He scoffed, "That's what they taught you but I know different. If magic is there, what's the point of not using it… because we shouldn't? It works both ways. I say if we have magic, then things should be used with magic."

"Yes but that's where discipline comes in. The things you need to morally work for cannot be accomplished with magic. That's all to do with one's self."

"But when you get to 'that place' in life after you 'worked for it', wouldn't it lessen the value if you used your wand at all in the process? That would be a little hypocritical, don't you think?"

"Well that's one opinion."

"Granger this whole topic is opinioned."

"All I'm saying is that the things you can do manually should not always be used with a wand."

"And all I'm saying is that they wouldn't send you to school to practice magic everyday just to go out to the world and not use it." He finished smugly with the stupid look of triumph etched on to his features.

"Can I help you?"

Hermione said yes at the same time Draco said no.

The worker looked between them both, not sure if she should stay or leave.

Draco smirked towards the woman and crossed his arms over his chest, "I mean yes you can help us. Tell me, do you use your wand everyday?"

Hermione through her hands in the air at his immaturity and walked away.

"My wand?" she said a little taken aback.

"You are a witch, correct?"

"Y-yes I am. And I do."

"And do you use it often? Like, to move the things around, and put the boxes up…you know, for manual things."

"Usually…yes."

"Thank you. You've been of great service." He smiled and give her a tip, then walked to his wife.

The woman shook her head, befuddled at how that held no relevance to the store, but returned o her post gratefully.

Draco swaggered towards Hermione, and leaned against the shelf haughtily.

"I rest my case."

"Snuff it."

"I'm sorry you're wrong love, but all real magical people use wands."

"Oh! You know what?" She pushed past him roughly, hitting his shoulder and stormed out of the store. He followed her, not wanting to make it look like there was something horribly wrong between them, but right as she was going to open the door she swung around. She definitely would have blown him over if he was right behind her.

"Excuse me," started Hermione with fake sweetness. "I hate to interrupt you but if there were things, everyday things you could do, by yourself…like pick up that piece of paper by your foot, or-or drink out of your water bottle…or fix your hair…wouldn't you do that by YOURSELF?"

"Y-yyes."

"Thank You!"

Hermione marched out of the store, not caring that she almost scared the woman half to death.

Draco, trying not to laugh at her outburst turned towards the woman and smirked, "It's that 'time'." With a wink and a jog he was out of the store.

"Hermione, stop."

"No."

"Stop," he said more serious.

"What Draco? I am so sick of your stupid blood jokes. They should have died a long time ago when you realized how dead you were too. But they still haven't--"

"Lower your voice." He said in her ear.

She shrugged off his hand forcefully, "Or what?"

Draco rolled his eyes, sick of this stupid game of Hermione running off and him catching her. Malfoys did not do 'chasing' of people.

Turning around the corner she went down, he stopped short almost colliding with her for the second time today.

He was going to yell at her for stopping but he found he was standing stock still as well, but for a completely different feeling. He was excited. Quickly regaining composure, he snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her closely up against his side. He was surprised when she put her arm around his back too and started to smile. He looked down at her and she up at him, and he winked. Quickly she stood up on her toes and whispered to him,

"Careful what you say in front of them because I know Skeeter is hiding in there somewhere. And she'll manipulate your words."

He kissed her quickly as a sign that he understood, and smirked as they walked forward towards the crowd of reporters and photographers anxiously waiting to speak to them.