Hey guys. Sorry it's been so long since I updated. I promise I have not abandoned this story and I know exactly where it is going. I'm in college so honestly I've just been swamped with schoolwork this year. There will be more frequent updates now and I hope you enjoy this latest chapter. It is basically the previous chapter told from Draco's perspective. I had always planned this for the story and I hope that it reminds you what is going on and reels you back in. Happy reading!

Draco nervously twisted a lock of his platinum hair between his fingers. It was shoulder length now and he both liked and disliked that he more closely resembled his father because of it. He had allowed Pansy to cut it into graceful layers that framed his face using a charm from a Witch Weekly article. He quite liked the effect, mostly because the style distinguished him from Lucius at least a little. However, it was always falling in his face and he had acquired a habit of playing with it at times when he was in a mood, such as now.

He knew ambushing Granger was probably not his best idea. But he reasoned, he wasn't going to hurt her only talk to her. He peeked out around the tapestry he was concealed behind and sure enough there she was, meandering down the corridor, humming absent-mindedly. He glanced quickly at her hands and her robe pocket, and even raked her glossy curls for the tell tale bit of wood she sometimes stuck behind her ear for safekeeping. Her wand was nowhere in sight; he smiled as he realized she must have stowed it away in her bag. It was now or never he thought and quick as a striking snake, he grabbed her bag and deftly twisted the strap around her shoulder twice. Then he yanked the bag, and Hermione Granger along with it, into an empty classroom, next to his tapestry, which he had selected for just this occasion. He then quickly untangled the satchel from her person and backed away before she could regain her wits and start attacking him either physically or magically. He remembered agitatedly to lock and silence the room before she undoubtedly started berating and/or threatening him.

She regained her balance by stumbling backward into a spare desk, very smooth, he thought to himself smugly. With her hands planted on the desk behind her still supporting her weight from her tumble, she looked up and they locked eyes. Her eyes reminded him of old photographs, like the kind stacked in the attic of the manor, his ancestors staring sternly out from their stiff formal poses, only breaking their firm veneer to scratch a nose, or adjust a lock of hair. Hermione's eyes were the same sepia color, but held a warmth he had never experienced, even when she was fuming with anger as she was now.

"Malfoy," she said in a monotone, clearly attempting to regulate her emotions.

"Granger," he smoothly replied, delighted that the first part of his plan had actually worked.

She then began speaking, describing how her friends would come looking for her, and that her teachers would notice her absence, blah blah blah. Her volume and speed increased with each passing second until he interjected himself into her little rant.

"Keep your knickers on Granger, I just want to have a chat."

Merlin how he wanted to see those, but this wasn't the time and he redirected his thoughts to the real Hermione, in this room, who most likely wanted to hex him a new arsehole, literally, not strip down for him like his fantasy Hermione often did. He threw her satchel to her to show he meant no harm and waited for her response. This was a gamble, he knew, as she may just curse him and leave the room now that she had her wand. But he wanted to throw her off by giving her wand and belongings back, and interest her enough to engage in this little discussion.

"Oh," was all she said as she pulled her skirt down and flattened the pleats back into place.

It's no use Granger, he thought to himself, I already know your little secret.

All he said aloud was "I need your help Granger."

"What could you possibly want from me," she replied cautiously.

He fluidly launched into his tale, "I've been struggling recently in Arithmancy and I need a tutor. Father would go ballistic if he finds out I am doing poorly so I can't officially request one from the library. Therefore as my options are limited, I have selected you as the best option."

Obviously he required no such thing but she needn't know that. He knew she would at least appreciate the flattery since he was openly admitting her intelligence and asking for her help. But Hermione immediately went on the defensive.
"Aren't you worried my dirty blood and inferior breeding will contaminate you in some way?"

Draco was stunned. He hadn't teased her about that since before the beginning of sixth year, even before he had noticed her thigh highs. Hermione was such an observant person that he was surprised she hadn't noticed this partial reformation.

"When was the last time I called you that word, or made any derogatory comment about your heritage?"

Now it was Hermione's turn to look staggered, as she paused to consider his question and came to the conclusion that she couldn't remember the last time he called her a mudblood. He could read her face like a book now, pun intended, Merlin he was turning into such a fucking Hufflepuff.

"So what do you think Granger? The meetings would have to be late and somewhat secretive. I don't want to risk any other Slytherins finding out I came to you for help."

When a response from her was not forthcoming, using his most persuasive voice he intoned,

"Aw common Hermione, I'll even say please."

She looked even more unsettled at his plea but finally acquiesced to his request adding,

"But if this is some kind of trick Malfoy, I will invent a new hex just for you, and I can assure you, it will not be pleasant."

He smiled to himself at her threat; it was only to be expected. He sauntered out of the room calling behind him,

"Tomorrow at midnight then, back of the library."

He wandered toward the great hall for lunch, pondering the conversation. He supposed it had gone well overall, they hadn't tried to kill each other at least. He remained optimistic that his plan would succeed. He had the all patience and cunning of a beast hunting its quarry, and he would not be deterred from his prize. He found Blaise at the Slytherin table and also found a tureen of butternut squash soup and some focaccia bread. He was particularly fond of the dish as his mother kept a large garden in back of the manor, including a vegetable garden and an extensive plot for herbs. During the winter months the house elves prepared a similar dish from the squash and spices. He had fond memories of sharing the dish with his mother when Lucius was away as she told him stories about her time at Hogwarts. He explained his recent confrontation and discussion to Blaise, under his breath as he ate.

"Are you mad?" Blaise exclaimed as he finished his tale. Draco shushed him and looked around covertly for any eavesdroppers.

"You ambushed Hermione Granger?" Blaise intoned in a softer voice. "I said you should request her tutoring services, not nearly kidnap her!"

"Well," said Draco, "I figured if I requested her from the library she would just leave when she arrived for our session and found me there. And how else was I supposed to approach her? She would surely have hexed me if I tried to talking to her alone."

Blaise was about to retort when Hermionie walked into the great hall. Her eyes flipped over the pair of Slyhterins and they watched as she meekly walked to the Gryffindor table and sat with her mates.

"I suppose she agreed then, since no one seems to be hunting you down for attacking the golden girl of Gryffindor."

"She did."

"When?" was all Blaise queried in response.

"Tomorrow night," Draco replied with a nervous flutter in his stomach.