Don't own anything.

Thank you to lyrabelaqua for being my beta and cleaning up my grammar.

And another thank you to everyone who's been reveiwing, I'm glad ya'll are enjoying the story so far and I plan to keep chapters coming.

he said I don't know if I've ever been good enough
I'm a little bit rusty, and I think my head is caving in
And I don't know if I've ever really been loved
By the hand that's touched me, well I feel like something gonna give
And I'm a little bit angry, well

This ain't over, no not here, not while I still need you
Around
You don't owe me, we might change
Yeah we just might feel good

I wanna push you around, I will, I will
I wanna push you down, I will, I will
I wanna take you for granted
I will

he said I don't know why you ever would lie to me
Like I'm a little untrusting when I think that the truth is
Gonna hurt ya
And I don't why you couldn't just stay with me
You couldn't stand to be near me
When my face don't seem to want to shine Cuz it's a little bit dirty well
Matchbox 20- Push

Draco stared at the letter's seal and slowly turned the letter around once more. The handwriting was an all too familiar memory of his childhood. He could remember the letters coming by post and having to take them to his father in his study. It wasn't that the letters that scared him, it was his fathers reaction to them. He would get so... happy. Knowing that something made his father happy was the scariest thing Draco could think of. After a minute of hesitation he slowly turned the envelope over to break the seal and extract the letter. The paper was thick and heavy; it looked old. He opened the letter and read the contents.

"Damn it." he muttered darkly.

He'd never been aloud to read the letters his father was sent, but after reading the small messy handwriting he was sure it was from the same person. It told of how muggles were tortured at the man's hands and exactly what he did to them; it was disturbing. After staring at the paper in his hands for what seemed like hours, Draco folded the letter back up and stuffed it in the envelope. He was tempted to write back to the man but he didn't know if it would get through, there was no writing on the envelope other than his name.

"Malfoy, we have a prefect meeting tonight at 6 o'clock. Please be ready; we were late for the last one because of you." The bush head said from the door of the bathroom, her hands resting on her hips.

"It wasn't my fault, you know how long my showers are." he defended himself.

"It was too your fault. What would possess you to take a shower at 5:45 when you know we have to be there by six?" she asked as she threw a glare at him.

"You never told me what time the bloody meeting was! The only way I found out about it was when you started pounding on the door and saying we were late."

"I told you there is a meeting every Thursday at six o'clock when school first started up. Don't blame this on me."

Did she tell him that? He couldn't really remember. It wasn't like he liked being late; Malfoys didn't lower themselves to the standards of the lowly by thinking it was fashionable to be late. There was no point in it; they wouldn't be able to see everyone in the room.

"We don't have classes this afternoon; get ready before five o'clock or I'm throwing you into the shower myself." she threatened him. She must want to get him back for throwing all of her junk into the fireplace but, to his defense, he had told her exactly what he was going to do an hour beforehand.

"You're too weak to lift me up. Don't make threats you don't intend to keep."

"Just be ready by five o'clock." she warned before turning to leave the room.

Six o'clock found Hermione sitting on the common room couch glaring at the bathroom door. After five minutes she stood up and pounded on the door in question.

"What?" was yelled from the other side of the door.

"I said to be ready an hour ago! What the hell is your problem?" she yelled back.

"Then go to the stupid meeting yourself." was the only response she got back.

"You're worse than a girl." she muttered under her breath before walking back to the couch to sit down for another wait.

Five minutes later Draco breezed into the room looking fresh and clean. He glanced at her at smirked.

"About time." she huffed at him as she led him to the portrait. "We're already ten minutes late. Don't do anything else to make Professor Dumbledore question us." she warned him as she opened the door and made her way to the prefect meeting.

"I hate you! I honestly can say I hate you." Hermione screamed at Draco when they stepped into the common room after the meeting.

"Why do you hate me? It wasn't my fault Weasel has a soft spot for you." he yelled back.

"It doesn't matter! You're demented, do you know that!" she answered, matching his tone.

"Next time don't throw every item of clothing you own into the damn common room to make a bloody point!"

"Next time don't give me reason to make a point!"

"That made no sense."

Her face turned red and she started sputtering incoherently.

"You look like a fish, Granger." he observed, smirking when she turned a bright shade of red and stormed out of the room to her dorm. It wasn't really his fault that the subject of her clothing styles came into the meeting. Dumbledore had left already and she had brought up what the girls should wear to the first ball of the year. He kindly pointed out to her that all the clothes she had were in ashes in the common room, she wouldn't have even been able to wear those cute green underclothes she'd had so much of. Weasel turned red, of course, and started sputtering on about how Draco couldn't have Hermione. Like he wanted that bush head. She got mad and declared she was never talking to Draco again. She didn't even keep her threat to him, she'd ranted and raved the whole way back to the common room. He'd yelled at her the first five minutes of walking, reminding her that she wasn't talking to him anymore, but her voice had only gotten louder and higher.

"Shut up, Malfoy! You're such an idiot." she blasted at him, trying to get under his skin.

"Granger, shut up. I don't have the time or the patience to listen to you whine today. It was your fault in the first place. Who has a temper tantrum and then throws all of their earthly belongings into the bloody common room? You're bent." he said as an answer, relaxed as he could ever remember being.

She glared at him and flung herself into a chair by the fireplace. Rolling his eyes Draco let out a sigh and closed his eyes, thankful for the silence.

"You're such a prat."

"Get over it, Granger. I thought you didn't walk to talk about it in the first place?" he asked while not bothering to open his eyes.

He heard her huff and prayed an ember from the fire would fly up and ignite her hair. She'd been mad about one thing or another the whole school term and she didn't seem to be showing any signs of breaking the habit. He heard a tapping noise after a minute of silence but didn't bother to find out the source, she'd take care of it anyway.

"Ferret, get your bird." The overbearing witch hissed at him when the tapping continued for a minute or so.

"How do you know it's my bird, Granger? Maybe it's an admirer of yours." he shot back, opening his eyes and glancing at the window. Asil stared back at him. "Damn it." he muttered before pulling himself off of the couch and over the window. "Hey Asil, how are you, sweetheart?" he cooed to the bird in a voice he hoped wouldn't be heard by Granger.

"Sound's like you're an admirer of him, Malfoy."

"Quiet Granger." he said in a normal tone. "Come on, Asil." he said to the owl, his voice rising again.

He led the owl to his room and closed the portrait. After Asil was situated on his perch Draco untied the letter from his leg and gave him a treat for his troubles. After looking at the handwriting he saw it was from the man again. He opened the envelope and read the contents of the letter. It explained why he was now getting the strange letters. His father had arranged that Draco was to receive all of the letters and be kept up to date of the treatment of muggles. The letter was a detailed description on how a muggle family was captured and tortured the day before. They were parents of a muggle-born witch. In the letter the man had said he was going back to finish the job he'd started a number of years ago on the daughter but she wasn't there. The parent's were in St. Mungo's now. He didn't write the name down but said that Draco should know what he was talking about.

"Of all the rubbish." he muttered before throwing the letter onto the floor. "Honestly, why would I want to know about some stupid muggle, much less know a name?"