I dont' own anything.

So many people like me put so much trust in all your lies
So concerned with what you think to just say what we feel inside
So many people like me walk on eggshells all day long
All I know is that all I want is to feel like I'm not stepped on
There are so many things you say that make me feel you cross the line
What goes up will surely fall and I am counting down the time
Cause I've had so many stand-offs to you it's about as much as I can stand
So I'm waitin' until the upper hand is mine

One minute you're on top
the next you're not watch it drop
Making your heart stop
Just before you hit the floor
One minute you're on top
the next you're not
missed your shot
making your heart stop
you think you won
And then it's all gone

She wasn't in the common room when he went to breakfast; she wasn't in the first row during potions; she wasn't in the library every waking moment in between classes either. Draco didn't know why he noticed these things, but it began to bother him when he returned to the common room and found her books piled on the table.

"Granger" he called, his tone was bored but he was angry at her for making him notice her absence.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. If she wanted to be sick that was fine, but there was no reason for her to leave her crap all over the common room. He had had bad days but he didn't turn his bag upside down on the couch and table. It looked like there was an ink spot on the table too.

"Granger" he called again, this time not bothering to hide his emotions.

There was silence. Blowing out a puff of air he made his way to her door and pounded on it until it creacked open. She stood there, looking like a complete... Weasley, all red fur and a squashed looking face. Her hair was sticking up at odd angles; there were marks on her face; her clothes were wrinkled and ink stained. How could she live with herself?

"May I ask why you felt it necessary to leave all of your earthly possessions out on the common room floor" he asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

"What do you mean on the floor" she asked as she pushed past him. "There's nothing on the floor." she stated as he joined her to stare at the table.

"Your things are everywhere in the common room. Clean it up." he ordered.

She looked at him before turning to go back to her room. He stared after her, eyes wide as she walked through the door of her room. When was the last time someone had totally ignored what he had said. He was torn from his thought by something hitting him on the chest.

"What the hell" he yelled, looking at the offending object that lay on the floor at his feet. "Why the hell did you throw that at me" he demanded while dodging another book.

"You said that all of my earthly possessions were out here on the floor." she answered.

Another book flew out of her room followed by a square case and after that a silver frame. He was disappointed when the objects stopped flying and the beast she called a pet hadn't flown through the doorway. There was something about that thing he didn't like, other than the fact that it was a Weasley offspring. He could have salvaged the day if he'd seen it flying out of the room.

"Bravo, Granger. You've lived up to your blood." he called to her. "You've just made more work for yourself. If I come back out and find this trash on the floor, I'll throw it in the fire." he ended, smirking when she came out of the room and walked toward the mess she'd made.

It disappeared quickly when she only picked up the silver frame and the square case. He narrowed his eyes and turned to go to his room. He'd give her an hour before going back out.

"An hour, Granger." he called over his shoulder before reaching his door.

He opened the door and walked into his room. He glanced at the walls, the portrait catching his eye.

"Your feelings grow strong for the young witch." the freakish looking woman said in what he assumed was meant to be an eerie voice.

"Yeah, how could you see through me" he drawled sarcastically.

"Don't mock me, boy. I can't control what the cards say." she snapped at him.

"For some one so intuitive you seem to speak at the most inopportune times." he growled at the painting before going to the wall that boasted the small frame.

"Don't even try it." she said in a dark voice.

Draco was too busy reaching for the painting to listen. It held fast and grew hot in his hands.

"What the hell" he yelped before examining his tortured hands.

They looked all right but they burned. He wouldn't be able to write for the next week though; and he could blame it on that old bat Dumbledore. Why would you put a painting like that in the Head Boy's room in the first place?

"I told you not to try it." the painting lectured him. "You young people think that everything has to be your way." she muttered to herself.

"You old people think that you have the run of the house because you've gotten wrinkles and bad eyesight." he shot back at her finding nothing wrong with picking a fight with a painting.

"Young man" she sounded offended.

"Old woman." he said calmly as a smirk formed on his face. "Maybe you'll shut up now."

She drew in a breath as if to defend herself but he had his wand on the canvas before she could utter a syllable. He opened his mouth to berate the woman but was interrupted when the door to the bathroom burst open and Granger charged in.

"Where the...why are you pointing your wand at a painting" she asked after a few seconds of silence.

"She..." he started, only to be interrupted by her again.

"Forget it, I don't care. Give me my toothpaste back." she demanded as her opened hand was thrust at him.

"I don't have your damn toothpaste." he lied easily.

"Yes you do. I know you took it because you're the only possible person that could have taken it." she countered as she stepped towards him.

"Why would I want something that your filthy hand has touched" he asked before rolling his eyes.

Instead of speaking she turned and went to his desk. He looked on as she opened the first drawer, there was nothing in there he cared about enough to keep her from touching it.. She went to the next drawer down and he was behind her in an instant, one hand grabbing her arm, the other going around her waist to drag her away from his desk. She moved in his arms until he instinctively tightened his hold, bringing her closer to him. She stopped moving and he held her in place, enjoying the feeling of a girl in his arms before coming to his senses.

"I told you I don't have your bloody toothpaste, Granger. Never touch my things again." he spat at her before pushing her away from him.

She caught herself on his desk and looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes shooting daggers. When he only smirked she turned around to face him mouth already opened to spit some insult out at him. Instead of the shrill voice he had grown accustomed to, she issued a moan and crumpled to the floor.

"Damn it." he muttered darkly, staring down at her.

He picked her up and walked through the bathroom to walk into her room. He laid her down then turned to leave. Her room looked different; the shelves were white. What the hell? Why didn't his do that?

"Stupid Granger." he mumbled as he walked through the bathroom.

He stopped dead when he saw what he hadn't paid attention to before. Scattered on the floor were his comb, his brush, gel, toothbrush, floss, cologne, hair trimmers, and the small jar of goo that he'd given to her to help heal her wounds. She'd gone through his things. He turned to rush into her room, and then remembered she'd just passed out. Damn it, even when he had a valid reason to get pissed off he couldn't. It was Granger's fault in the first place. He walked back into her room and went over to her desk.

"My, my what have we here" he said to himself as he opened the top right drawer.

He pulled out the square case he'd seen her go back into the common room to get after her childish stint. He shook the square case and heard something hit the edges. After opening the case he saw a disk with a hole in the middle of it. One side had a picture of circles with the words 'Linkin Park Meteora' on the bottom. The other side was smooth and silver, like mirror. After examining himself for a few well deserved minutes he returned to the drawer. He extracted a book that was bound with a red ribbon; Her journal, no doubt. He thought about looking through it but decided that just saying he knew she had one would be enough to keep her quiet for at least two weeks. He tossed the book aside and took out the next item. It looked like a book as well. He opened the cover and saw that it was a photo album. The first page held four pictures. One was of a man and a woman with a baby in her arms. The picture didn't move so he assumed that it was her mother and father with her. The next picture was of a small baby with brown hair staring into the camera. It was Granger; the eyes were the same. He turned the page and found pictures of children that looked about 9 or 10, standing in three lines. All were looking at the camera and smiling. His gaze flickered over the faces until he came to a familiar face. The young Hermione was standing in the middle row on the end. She looked unhappy and Draco smirked. So she was used to being an outcast, that explained a lot. He lost interest in the album when the pictures started moving. They were all probably of Potty and Weasel. He slid the album back into the drawer along with the other items that had been taken out. He went to inspect her book collection next. "Blood lines and Blood ties." "Quidditch Through the Ages." "Discovering Your Past." "The Muggle Witch Project." those where the only names that stood out to him and he soon lost interest in the bookshelves also. He made a final sweep of the room before walking back into his own. He looked around to find the same white walls and dark wood shelves. Dumbledore was an old fool who hated Draco. He knew just how to piss the young man off, and damn if he didn't do it at every curve turn. If anyone deserved those damned shelves it was him!

I want to say thank you to lyrabelaqua for being my beta, you have atrue talent for editing.