A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update once more! I've been busy looking for a job(not that I really want one, hardee har har) and studying. I've gotten excited because incubus had a podcast and they did a soundgarden cover! I just really want them to come out with a new CD. I think this song fits this chapter perfectly, and I just got into Mae. Thanks for all the reviews on the previous chapter and do enjoy!

It's magic", she says to me.
My hand in her way, she approached sweetly.
It's enough when I see that look in her eyes,
it's enough for me to paralyze.

Breakdown – Mae

Draco glared at the sight in front of him. He had to write an essay for Transfiguration, and he really wasn't in the mood. The last thing he needed was schoolwork from his least favorite teacher, along with sharing his sleeping quarters with the girl who refused to speak to him. It had been going on for about two weeks now, and both of them carried on as if they were alone in the room. Neither of them acknowledged each other, and both of them seemed to like it that way. Hermione had once again started off her final semester with perfect grades, and received much praise for her professors.

Draco also received praise, but he really didn't care for that prissy fuss. He didn't want all of Hogwarts to know that he was some law-abiding schoolboy. Draco kept himself busy with Quidditch, and organizing some Slytherin related events, and even took more time out of his schedule to help the first years of his house to tutor or help with the difficult sport.

When he had free time, he would write or visit Hogsmede with Blaise Zabini, the only Slytherin whom he considered worthy of his company.

Draco nibbled at the end of his quill and stared gloomily into the darkness. He had to admit that he was still hurting from his disastrous misfortune with the muggle witch. And to make it even worse, Pansy was hovering over him like a bee with a flower; at every chance she would sneak up on him and whisper inappropriate things in his ear. Draco would shrug her off and tell her to kindly fuck off.

He definitely didn't feel like shagging that dirty whore. At times he would see Harry Potter give him a murderous glare, while Hermione would sit calmly and find her porridge strangely fascinating at the same moment. Draco would smirk in his direction and give him the finger. Hermione took that advantage and took away twenty Slytherin points. He retorted with telling her to also fuck off, and sent Hermione trudging back to her table, and giving him a venomous look.

Draco smiled in his own glory. He absoloutley loved getting under Hermione's skin. He loved watching her face turn red as a tomato, and her cute little nose wrinkle. Wait. Did he just think that Granger's nose was cute? He let out a sigh of frustration and continued writing.

Hermione climbed over the portrait hole and sighed. Much to her luck, there was Draco, hunched over writing his essay. She had been so used to Draco not being in their common room whenever she would arrive, and now he was sitting there. Hermione continued walking toward her bedroom when Draco caught her.

"You know what Granger? I've had enough of this, we're acting as if we're 12 year olds for Merlin's sake!" he said in a sarcastic voice. Hermione couldn't believe that Draco even had the courage to speak to her.

Hermione placed her hands on her hips and stared at him. "Well Draco, it's not my fault that you acted if nothing happened, and I'm quite happy with not speaking to each other, I think it's improved my studying habits." Hermione retorted

Draco smirked. " Well if you want it to keep going that way, then I don't care. It's your thing Lady Granger.".

Hermione sighed and shook her head and retreated inside her bedroom. Crookshanks was curled up on her gold spread, his squashed face looking at Hermione questionably. Hermione sat down and petted the cat. "You know what Crookshanks? Don't ever fall in love."

Draco stared at the oak door. It amused him once more to see Hermione madden again. It warmed his bloody soul. The girl was every bit magical, and stubborn. Ever since she had slapped him across the face in their third year, he knew the mudblood had a spark in her. A spark that was magical.