"Why do you call me 'Mudblood'?"

"…Can you ask a different question, Hermione?"

"No. You can only ask for one question to be changed."

"Is that in the rules?"

"Now it is."

"Yes, but—I mean the official rules."

"There are no official rules, Malfoy. It's like tag. No one writes the rules down for tag."

Pained. "Do I really have to answer this?"

"Yes, you do."

"…ItwastheworstthingIcouldthinkof…atthetime."

"What, Malfoy?"

"Look, I couldn't think of any better insults, okay! My dignity was at stake! So I…hit you with everything I had, as it were."

"But you've called me that again since that first time."

"…Yes, well…my turn, now. How did you pretend you were a sorceress when you were little?"

"…Are you trying to make peace with me, Draco?"

"Well, it's not like I like fighting all the time."

"Could've fooled me."

"Answer the question. Or use your pass."

"No, I don't want to waste my pass on something like this…though it is incredibly embarrassing…okay. Okay, I had this old red bathrobe of my dad's from sometime in the seventies, it was huge on me, and it smelled very strongly of incense. And I had a crown made out of…" Blush. "Embroidery rings, which I'd woven together with yarn, and…"

Laugh. "Do go on."

"…And a wand made out of a branch I'd found in the woods, with little beads glued on the end, and I'd…I'd wander around my backyard waving my wand and shouting…'Fairies of the wood! Do as I tell you!' And…"

Laughter.

"I was a kid! I was only nine!"

"Nine?!" More laughter.

"You try being a total outcast at school because you actually read!"

"…I just thought it was cute, is all."

"…Oh."

"…Your turn, Hermione."

"Okay…What side are you on? In the war?"

"You had to make it serious again, didn't you."

"I've been wondering ever since you started being nice to me…well, sort of nice."

"And why have you been wondering that?"

"Because…you actually haven't been that bad. To talk to, you know."

"And you were thinking, 'Oh, maybe he's evil and I shouldn't talk to him at all'?"

"No! I—"

"Or was it, 'Maybe he'll join our side and be good and sweet and pure'!"

"I was just trying to—"

"I get another pass on this one, Granger!"

"No, you don't!"

"It's too personal!"

"Nothing's too personal! We're playing Truth! We can ask anything we want!"

"Maybe we shouldn't play anymore. Maybe this was a bad idea."

"Why is it so terrible to let someone know about yourself?!"

"Because there'll be nothing left between me and the world!"

"But don't you see, it's not the world! It'll just be between you and—me…"

"…"

"…"

"…I'm not going to be a Death Eater, if that's what you think."

"…"

"That's what you thought, isn't it? That I'd go running off and kill Muggles? That's just stupid, Hermione. Why else would I have warned you against the Death Eaters at the World Cup?"

"Y-You were trying to warn me?"

"…Of course I was. What kind of heartless sod do you think I am? I'm not going to let someone get killed when I can stop it…"

"If you were trying to warn me, then…why were you so cruel?"

"I had to save face in front of Potter and Weasley, didn't I? Otherwise they'd spread it around, and I'd get no respect whatsoever."

"Are you going to support.—Voldemort?"

Flinch.

"…You're just as afraid of him as the rest of us, aren't you?"

"As afraid as you are to be without books."

"And you were so afraid in the Forbidden Forest First Year, I've just remembered…"

"Of course I'm afraid of him! I have met the man. And in the forest, well, could you really blame me?, I mean, I was eleven, and there was You-Know-Who himself, and—"

"You knew it was him?"

"How could I not?"

"Wait, you said you've met him?!"

"…I was only five at the time…"

Soft. "Tell me."

"…My dad took out this diary, this old, grubby diary, and asked me if I wanted to practice my cursive in it…I thought it was a bit funny, but I said okay anyway, and I wrote my name…and the diary wrote back 'Tom Riddle'…and then it wrote 'Pleased to meet you,' and I got this chill down my spine…"

"You still remember this after all this time?"

"I don't think I'll ever forget. It was like being near a dementor…all of you just shuts down except the part that's afraid…"

"What happened?"

"I wrote, 'Who are you?' and it wrote back, well, it wrote You-Know-Who's name, and I couldn't think of anything to say, so I just wrote 'Bye.' Then I gave it back to my dad and said I didn't need to practice any more. He was really angry at me for awhile."

"Did he punish you?"

"No…he just was sort of…tense…for a few weeks."

"I can't believe you've met Voldemort. Even if it was through a diary."

"What's so hard to believe?"

"I don't know…hey, if you knew about Tom Riddle's diary in Second Year, why didn't you tell anyone about the Chamber of Secrets?! You could've stopped it from ever happening!"

"I didn't know! Remember, Tom Riddle never said anything to me about opening the Chamber! And, besides, I didn't even know the diary was at the school until the summer holidays, when my dad complained about losing a House Elf…"

"Oh."

"…We've stopped playing Truth."

"That's okay, Draco. This is far more interesting, anyway."

A/N: It got serious again. And it will continue being serious for a couple more chapters, at least. Sorry if that makes you sad, but that's just the way the story has to go…:D

I have just been informed by Campy Capybara that this idea comes from Bellemaine Chercoeur's What's up with Hermione? Breakfast at Hogwarts, which can be found right here on FF.N. Three cheers for Campy Capybara!

Thanks for all the reviews, you faboo people!