I know its been quite a while since i last updated but its not because i haven't wanted to its because my internet was down. So please forgive me. I have 2 chapters ready...enjoy.


Shopping with Draco Malfoy was like shopping with a two year old. A very spoiled two year old. His favorite phrases included, "Buy that," "That's interesting-what's it do?", and "Expensive! I've bought quills that cost more than that." It had been a rough day for Hermione and she was glad it was nearly over.

"Can't you help me with these bags?"

"You expect me to carry all of that?" He pointed to the pile bags.

"How about you carry everything that you bought and I'll carry everything I bought." Hermione picked up four of the bags. It would have been three but when they had stopped to get pens, pencils, and paper (all of which fascinated Draco) she had noticed a book store and couldn't resist buying a couple books with some of the left over money. Two of the bags contained food that she had chosen, where as Draco had about six or seven bags of food. It seemed silly to have separate bags of food but Hermione liked to eat healthier, celery, carrots, and normal food filled her bags; an assortment of junk food, coffee (although he had yet to figure out how to make it), and cereal filled his. The last bag held everything she hoped she would need for the new school.

"Ok I'm gonna need some help." Draco looked at his pile of things. He was amazed at how much he had been able to buy with such a little amount of money. Most of the items were muggle and he hadn't the slightest idea of how to use them but they had looked interesting enough. "Why don't wizards use pens and paper?" He had asked Hermione back when he was choosing some pens, she stood deep in thought for a moment.

"I'm not sure; perhaps it has something to do with tradition." Traditions suck. Some traditions should be changed. Like the tradition for pureblood children to marry other pureblood children. That's how Draco got stuck with Pansy. His mother called her perfect: pretty, somewhat intelligent (ha that's what you think), and most importantly she was a pureblood witch. But she was everything Draco hated, pushy, noisy, and loud. Hermione clapped her hands in front of his face.

"Hello? Did you hear a word of what I just said?" he shook his head. "I said that I would help you carry your things if you promise not to buy so much next time. Deal?"

"Deal." Arms ladled with bags, they made their way back to the hotel.

"So what are we going write?"

"We already told you we don't know, Gin." Ron sighed exasperatedly. Ron, Ginny, and Harry were gathered around a small table in the back of the library debating about what to write to Hermione.

"Why don't we tell her we miss her and to lay off of Malfoy?" Harry suggested. Ron nodded in agreement but Ginny looked doubtful. "What?"

"Well it's just, put yourself in her place. Do you really want your friends writing 'we miss you and oh yeah don't kill Malfoy, you know your enemy that you are being forced to live with.' That doesn't sound like a note I'd like to receive."

"I guess your right." They sat for a moment in silence. "Why don't we just tell her we miss her and want her to come back soon?"

"That's a great idea. Why didn't we think of that sooner?" Ron wondered aloud.

"It was too easy, and we like to do things the hard way." Ginny pulled out the ink, her favorite quill, and a piece of parchment. A few minutes later their letter was complete. "How do we know it worked?"

"We wait for her reply."

"Hey, is this yours?" Draco asked picking up a small box that sat on the living room coffee table.

"I don't think so." She unlatched the box and pulled the lid up. Inside there was a bottle of fuchsia ink and some parchment. There were also two small notes. The first one was from Professor McGonagall explaining the ink and its power. The second one was a letter from her friends.

"Dear Hermione,

How are you? We wanted to let you know that we miss you and want you to come back soon. So be on your best behavior. Also Ron and Harry want you to know that even though you're gone they are still studying (Although I had to make them last night). We know this will be hard for you but please promise us one thing: don't kill Malfoy. Write back soon.

Love from all of us,

Ginny, Harry, and Ron."

"Awwwwwwww, how sweet." But the tone he used would suggest he thought otherwise. It hurt Draco to see how much her friends cared. He didn't have any real friends, sure there was Crabbe and Goyle but they were too stupid to form coherent sentences. People feared him, they respected him, but they didn't like him. Nobody had ever taken the time to get to know him. They all thought of him as Draco Malfoy the rich, stuck up, pureblood, Death Eater. Although that all happened to be true, expect the Death Eater part, it still upset him.

"Sod off, you're just upset that you don't any friends who would do something this sweet. Oh wait," she said in mock forgetfulness, "I forgot you don't have any friends." Hermione could tell she had stuck a nerve. It surprised her because usually it took a lot more to shake him up. She waited for him to lash out at her or try to hit her again but he didn't. He just stood their staring at her, his steel eyes piercing into her. In his eyes she saw hurt and instantly felt bad. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean it like that."

"Yes you did." He replied dryly. Taking one last look at Hermione he walked to his room. She heard the door slam in the distance. Great, now I have to live with an upset Malfoy. Which I believe is worse than an angry Malfoy. With an angry Malfoy at least you know what to expect. She sighed and begun writing a reply to her friend's letter. The night wore on slowly every minute longer than the last. Hermione had finished writing an hour ago. Her stomach growled but she ignored it, food was the last thing on her mind. She sat there silently staring at closed door at the end of the hall. He wouldn't leave her thoughts. When she closed her eyes all she saw were his eyes and the pained look in them.

Gathering up her courage she started down the hall. Why am I going there? What will I say? Why do I feel so bad? She knocked on his door and hoped he would answer.

"Who is it?"

Who do you think it is you imbecile. "It's me." The door cracked open a smidge and a pale face peeked out.

"What do you want?"

"I just wanted to say that I-I feel awful. I didn't mean to upset you like that. It's an old habit to snap like that." She mumbled her brain working furiously to figure out what she was trying to say. Why do I get the feeling that he's not going to make this easy for me? "Look, I'm sorry. I know I already said it I just wanted to say it again." Again he just stood and stared at her. "Whatever." She turned and started to leave.