Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I would be J.K. Rowling. If I was J.K. Rowling, I would have a much wittier disclaimer than this. In fact, I wouldn't have a disclaimer at all.

A/N: I know, it's been 2 whole long weeks since my first chapter... but here's the second one! I know Hermione's a little OoC here... but it's part of the story! And as a side note, thank you to those who put my story on Story Alert! It makes me happy, and you know what would make me even happier? Reviews! (hinthint)

And now, ladies and gentlemen, the second chapter of Running Away With You. (cue applause)

Hermione narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to throw a retort back at Draco, but her voice got caught in her throat, sending her into a coughing fit. And right in front of Draco Malfoy, nonetheless. Not very impressive for the smartest witch of her age, and of many other ages as well.

The sight of Hermione glaring daggers at him while struggling to clear her throat at the same time was very amusing indeed – at least for Draco. His smirk grew even wider as he prepared to launch another insulting remark about her bloodline at her.

He had just opened his mouth when Hermione finally regained control over her shaking body. His menacing words had just passed over his tongue and nearly exited his mouth when she slapped her palm over his jaw, causing him to gag slightly. She hissed, "Not here, Malfoy."

Her newfound fierceness took Draco by surprise, leaving him momentarily speechless. This lack of retorts gave Hermione a chance to grab him by the sleeves and drag him away from public view.

If you were an outsider looking in on this scene, you might think that Hermione was a furious girlfriend who had just caught her devious boyfriend, who would be Draco, cheating on her. You would see Draco being dragged away by a girl who, being at least a head shorter than him, seemed much weaker than he was.

When Hermione found an isolated spot that satisfied her, she dropped Draco's sleeves and threw him to the ground. Her actions, combined with the very menacing glare she gave him at that moment, made her seem very Slytherin-like. He withdrew slightly, cautious as to what she would do next.

With her eyes narrowed to slits and her teeth gritted, Hermione hissed, "Don't call me a Mudblood! Especially not in the open public! Do you realize who could hear you?"

Finally out of his startled reverie, Draco quickly replaced his astonished gape with his infamous sneer. He stood up from his awkward position on the ground and brushed himself off.

"Is that all you're afraid of? Everyone will think it's just a new insult!" And he laughed a very fake-sounding, cruel laugh.

Now completely furious with Malfoy for his carelessness, she whirled upon him and slapped him full on in the face. He gasped at her rash actions, and even Hermione was startled with her own boldness.

Her eyes were blazing when she screamed at him, "It's much more to that than you think! You don't know who might start using it, thinking it's just another insult! You don't know how much trouble it could cause the whole wizarding world! You… you… idiot!"

And with another Slytherin-like glare and a whirl that Snape would be proud of, had she been wearing robes, she stormed away, leaving Draco standing there, not knowing what to do next.

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After storming away from that little confrontation with Draco, Hermione marched back to her dormitory, hoping that her roommates have already left. She sighed in relief when her door opened to reveal a very messy but empty room.

She huffily flopped down on her neatly made bed, glaring at the ceiling, still fuming about Draco bloody Malfoy.

How could he be so careless? How much more stupid could he get? And he called himself a pureblood wizard with such pride, as if he was superior to everyone else. She sneered a very Draco-like sneer, thinking about how very idiotic that Malfoy was.

Hermione's thoughts continued like this for quite some time, satisfying her frustration by visualizing multiple ways that Malfoy could be killed.

Her thoughts soon turned to her actions from that morning. In the course of ten short minutes, she had clamped her hand on Malfoy's mouth, dragged him for quite some distance, threw him to the ground, and gave a direct smack to his cheek. How very un-Hermione-like.

She sighed, thinking up reasons to convince herself of why she had acted like that. Maybe it was because, without Harry and Ron there to protect her, she had become more aggressive and self-defensive. Perhaps she had not let out her misery and anger for a long time, and she took it all out on Malfoy. Or, it was possible that she had had quite enough of Draco Malfoy and decided to teach him a well-deserved lesson.

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For a full minute after Hermione had whirled away, Draco stood rooted to the ground, back into his startled reverie. Was this the same bookworm Hermione Granger who was always at the top of her grade, smartest witch for miles around?

Draco shook his head, dumbfounded at how much this girl had changed since he last saw her.

He slowly walked back to his dormitory, half-dazed at Hermione's actions. She slapped him, for Merlin's sake! He raised a hand to his cheek, gingerly touching it. It still stung where her hand connected with his flesh.

Once in his empty room, he threw himself into a very discolored, deflated-looking beanbag chair, contemplating the morning's events. How dare she attack Draco Malfoy! His father would definitely be hearing about this. Oh, how that Granger will pay.

Although he had to admit, he rather liked Granger's new personality. In fact, had she been in Slytherin, not such a bookworm or a Mudblood, and actually had some decent looks, he might even be able to fancy her. (Not that he did, of course. He shuddered at the mere thought of it.) Now, if Pansy Parkinson had the personality of the new Hermione Granger and bit less lack of brain cells, she would be Draco's dream girl.

Draco spent the rest of the morning dreaming up ways that his father could severely punish Granger, all the while mentally creating the girl of his dreams.

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They didn't see each other for the rest of the day. Which wasn't all that hard, considering the fact that Hermione skipped lunch and nearly missed dinner as well because she was busy studying. Draco also missed lunch, taking the time to sit in his dormitory and write a near 20-inch letter – in small, cramped writing – to his father, complaining about Hermione Granger. And because of his lack of his usual midday meal, his stomach started complaining quite early in the afternoon, forcing him to have an early dinner.

The next week passed just as uneventfully. Of course, they passed each other in the hallways on their way to class, but never fully acknowledged the other's presence. Most of the time, they just walked past the other as if they weren't there. At most, Draco would smirk at her and Hermione would frown back in disapproval.

On Saturday at breakfast, a week after their first encounter, they saw each other in the Cafeteria again. Draco was sitting at the same table as the week before, vividly remembering how the stool had collapsed under him, so he chose a plastic foldable chair this time. Hermione saw Draco sitting there, so she made a point in selecting the table farthest from his to sit at.

This slightly disappointed Draco. The previous night, he had laid awake in bed, thinking about how he miserably hated the London Boarding School for the Academically Advanced. He had devised a plan to do something about it, but he needed Hermione's help – as much as he despised the idea of receiving assistance from Mudblood Granger, there was no other choice. He had never sent the letter he wrote to his father, thinking that she would never help him if his father knew that they were in the vicinity of each other.

Now the hard part was asking Hermione about it. Draco had planned to propose the idea to her this morning at breakfast, but she chose to sit so far away from him. He decided to stare at her until she looked up.

Hermione felt Draco's stare on her forehead. She was determined not to look up and meet his gaze. What did he want from her, anyway? Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore, so she glanced up, hoping that he had already looked away.

But no, Draco was still determinedly staring at her. When their eyes met, he held her gaze. He slowly raised an eyebrow and put a smirk on his face. She glared fiercely at him and turned away, standing up to get her food. He pushed back his chair and followed her.

She noticed him getting up and heading her way, so she abruptly changed direction and headed towards the restrooms instead. He changed his course as well.

Hermione began to feel unnerved. Why in the world was Draco Malfoy following her? She didn't do anything to him since their initial encounter, so what did he want? She quickened her pace just a bit, but she heard him speed up behind her.

She decided to confront him. She suddenly stopped walking, which nearly caused Draco to crash into her. He halted just in time. Hermione whirled around (she seemed to be doing that a lot lately) to face him.

Her eyes were narrowed and her teeth were gritted, and Draco feared she was going to slap him again. He unconsciously took a step backward to put some space between them.

"Malfoy." She spat his name out as if the word itself tasted horrible in her mouth. "What do you want?"

Draco regained his composure and opened his mouth to start the speech he had prepared last night. But before he could say a word, however, she interrupted him.

"If you're going to tell me how your daddy dearest is going to come and slaughter me for what I did to you last week, forget it. You know just as well as I do that there is absolutely nothing he can do while I am at a Muggle boarding school and he is somewhere in the wizarding world, off doing some horrendously evil task for Voldemort." She spat out Voldemort's name just as she spat out Draco's.

He was slightly taken aback. Indeed, this thought had occurred to Draco just as he had finished writing his letter.

Hermione continued talking. "I have done nothing to you this past week after last Saturday, so I can't even begin to imagine what in Merlin's name you want from me."

Draco cleared his throat. "I need to talk to you." He subconsciously slapped himself for having such a weak opening. "Mudblood," he added as a second thought.

She smirked and replied, "We're talking right now, Ferret."

He shuddered at the memory of that furry little incident in their fourth year. It wasn't pleasant in the least.

"I can see that, Granger," Draco sneered, back to his taunting self. "What I mean is, I have something of importance that I need to talk to you about."

"So talk to me about it!" she cried, exasperation showing in her voice.

"No, it needs to be discussed in private."

"All right, let's go into the ladies' room and chat," she suggested sarcastically.

He was not amused by her meek attempt at humor. "Mudblood, you don't honestly think you can be considered a lady, do you?" He smirked and continued, "Meet me outside the Seventh Year common room – I mean lounge – tomorrow night at 8. You better be there, Granger."

"You can bet on it, Ferret." With that, she turned on her heel and stalked away.

Review, pleasepleaseplease! I want to know your opinion. Constructive criticism is gladly accepted!

SWC: 1903