Arriving at Professor Babbling's classroom a few minutes early, Hermione was dreading detention. She couldn't believe that she got in trouble on the first day of school!

Glancing inside the classroom, she saw Malfoy sitting at his table, waiting for Professor Babbling to instruct him on what to do. She sighed, hoping that letting him win the Felix Felicis would help move their civility along.

She walked slowly into the classroom, not making eye contact with him. When she realised that the Runes Professor wasn't there yet, she tentatively took her usual seat. Malfoy sneered a bit but said nothing.

Moments later, the strict Professor entered the classroom. "Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy, I'm surprised at the two of you. I would have thought you were more mature than this, especially you, Miss Granger. Now then, you're in your assigned seats as I had asked, so we can begin."

Hermione bowed her head in shame, an embarrassed blush heating up her face and neck.

"You will be writing lines. Mr Malfoy, you shall write, 'I shall not shout immature profanities in the middle of class' and Hermione, please write, 'Hexing other students is completely unacceptable and utterly childish.' I expect you to fill these pieces of parchment by the time I return," Babbling watched them with a cautioning eye, "Wands please."

They deposited their wands into her awaiting hand, each looking extremely put out. "I will return in thirty minutes and I expect there to be no talking. Goodbye."

With that, the professor turned on her heel and stormed out, her purple robe billowing behind her. Swishing her wand, the door locked behind her after she left, leaving Malfoy and Hermione to write lines upon lines of the same sentence.

Hermione sighed and pulled out the quill that she had tried giving to Malfoy in Potions class. Malfoy glanced at it's crumpled feathers (from being manhandled as she shoved it in his hand earlier that day) and scoffed to himself.

Reaching into his own bag, he retrieved a perfectly kept eagle quill that obviously cost him a few galleons to buy.

Shaking her head, Hermione began writing. Her hand fell into a trance of automated movements after writing the line a few times and she allowed herself to think.

She needed a plan to get closer to Malfoy and distract him from his task as a Death Eater. Unconsciously, she glanced at his forearm, which was clad in a black suit. He had the Dark Mark, she realised. Perhaps if she tried talking to him more often, she would crack his hard, cold exterior and the two would become friends? It was a long run, but it was her only idea.

"So," she cleared her throat, still writing. "What will you do with the Felix Felicis?"

Malfoy eyed her suspiciously, searching her face for a motive. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," Hermione said innocently, "You know, seeing as I let you win."

Malfoy sneered at her slightly, cocking his head to one side by a minuscule amount, "One, you didn't let me win; that was pure talent. Two, care to explain why you didn't let your precious boyfriend, Scarhead, win the potion?"

Hermione inhaled a bit, this was her chance to get to know him better. Staring at the table, she said, "I figured that you could use it more than Harry."

Malfoy frowned a bit. Looking up slowly, she caught his skeptical glance. "I mean, Harry, he has so many people looking out for him. Helping him. It just didn't seem fair to give even more luck to him."

Malfoy's face twisted from a scowl into a confused frown. He opened his mouth as though preparing to say something, but shook his head, saying nothing. Suddenly, a smirk overcame his face.

"The Weasel's probably pissed at you," Malfoy grinned at the thought.

Hermione shook her head, also clad in a small smile, "No, he's definitely pissed."

Hermione recalled his icy treatment of her. He hadn't spoken a word for the rest of the day, simply glaring at her when she tried talking to him or Harry.

Malfoy smirked a bit at that. A pissed off Weasley was always fun to terrorize. "Well, don't expect a thank you; after all, I did have the best potion in the class.

"Debatable," Hermione scoffed, continuing her lines. She had completed the front side of one sheet, finally.

"You're just mad that, I, Draco Malfoy, got a higher score than you," he grinned a bit, but his expression quickly turned solemn. He glanced at his forearm as he itched it, looking a bit pained.

Pretending not to notice, Hermione had a feeling that this had to do with the Dark Lord. She decided to try talking some more, hoping that would cheer him up a bit.

"Er," she tried lightly, "what'd you think of the Charms homework? I, for one, found it to be quite heavy, even for Binns."

Malfoy turned toward Hermione, concerned, "Why are you doing this?"

Hermione furrowed her brows, "Doing what?"

"This," he gestured to the space between them, referencing their conversation.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione feigned ignorance.

"Just because you took pity on me, which I did not ask you to do," he held up a hand as she tried interrupting him, cutting her off, "does not mean that we're suddenly chummy. You're still a mudblood and I'm still superior. So thanks for being dumb enough to give me the potion. Now, kindly sod off."

Picking his things up, he moved to a table across the room, not bothering to spare a second glance at her. Sighing, Hermione continued with her lines for the rest of the detention, wanting to say something but unsure if words could speak her thoughts. Yes, Draco Malfoy definitely lived a pitiful life.

...

After detention, Hermione walked silently back to the Gryffindor Tower, lost in her own thoughts. Despite having been laughing with Malfoy about Ron earlier, her friend's anger was not something that she thought would dissipate on its own.

She muttered the password to the Fat Lady, who clucked her tongue dismissively, likely knowing that she had been in detention.

"Oh, stop," Hermione shook her head, not in the mood to deal with the dramatic portrait's disapproval. When she entered the Common Room, it was nearly deserted. Hermione's eyes widened when she realized that it was already past nine o'clock, meaning that she had been in detention with Malfoy for over an hour.

Hermione was hoping Harry and Ron would already be asleep so they wouldn't berate her about giving the potion to Malfoy, but unfortunately for her, they were in the middle of a game of Wizard's Chess.

Hermione shook her head and walked over to them.

"Hello," she said tentatively. Perhaps if she didn't mention Potions class, they would forget about it. "Who's winning?"

"Look, Harry," Ron glanced up at Hermione with a scowl, "It's Malfoy's best friend. Shouldn't you be in the Slytherin Common Room?"

Hermione groaned internally but decided to try and work this problem out. "Oh, come on. You guys know that I still despise Malfoy! I just didn't want Slughorn to think I chose Harry's potion because we're friends."

Harry shook his head, "But, Hermione, it's Malfoy. He's probably going to use it to help Voldemort or something."

Hermione crossed her arms, "You and I both know that Malfoy isn't a Death Eater, Harry. He's always been full of it. Don't you remember second year, when we were convinced he was the heir of Slytherin? That was just a bluff, and so is this."

Ron looked at Harry for confirmation, unsure of what to believe. "I mean, she has a point mate. But you still gave a valuable potion to Malfoy!"

Hermione feigned knowledge and assertively said, "I told you why I did that. I can't have the professor thinking I'm playing favorites!"

"So grades are more important than the Order to you now?" Harry asked incredulously.

Hermione wanted to scream. If only they knew why she was doing any of this-for the Order. But, keeping her composure, she said, "Don't say things like that, Harry. You know that defeating Voldemort is the most important thing to me. But I'm not going to throw away my academic career because you think that Draco Malfoy, who is conveniently the person you hate most, is a Death Eater."

Ron huffed at that, still unsure whether or not Malfoy was a Death Eater.

"Now," Hermione adjusted her book bag, "I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

Harry and Ron watched Hermione leave and enter her dormitory as they continued their game.

"I win," Ron declared.

Harry sighed, "Best two out of three?"

…

Hermione found herself finished with homework during her open period following Defence Against the Dark Arts. Figuring that this would be a perfect time to try and talk to Malfoy, she decided to try the Room of Requirement, where she knew Harry had discovered Malfoy to be hiding.

"Ronald," she said, packing her things up, "I'm going to go talk to McGonagall about a Transfiguration theory. Don't wait up for me if I'm not back before lunch."

Ron, who was deep in concentration as he sifted through a D.A.D.A book, nodded and mumbled, "Bye, Hermione."

Hermione walked casually out of the Gryffindor Common Room until the Portrait Hole had closed and Ron could no longer see her. She began speed walking and pulling the sleeve of her cloak up to check her watch. If everything worked with the Room of Requirement, she would have roughly 20 minutes to talk to Malfoy. Although she doubted it would go anywhere, she hoped that he would at least accept her help.

When she finally reached the room, which luckily wasn't too far away from the Gryffindor Tower, she remembered how Harry could never get into the room while Malfoy was conspiring inside it.

I need to see Draco Malfoy.

Hermione decided to just give it a shot and pace three times past the room. When the door appeared, Hermione audibly gasped, expecting her plan to fail her.

I wonder, Hermione thought to herself, if the room knows Dumbledore sent me.

The room, or chamber, as it could more accurately be described as, was stacked full of random objects, ranging from ancient school desks to dusty jewelry. Its tall, cathedral-like ceilings were illuminated by rays of light that shined in through the large, gothic windows. Dust floated around, visible in those long rays of sunshine, and landed on top of the piles of clutter.

Silence nearly swallowed the large, never-ending room, save for the repetitive skip of a record and a far away mutter.

Trying to walk as quietly as possible, Hermione tip-toed her way towards the source of the voice, who she was sure was Malfoy.

Lo and behold, there he stood, inspecting a tall wardrobe that looked oddly familiar to Hermione. Putting a stopper in that thought she contemplated how to make her presence known to Malfoy without him running off or hexing her.

Knowing that no matter what approach she used, Malfoy would hex her or run away, Hermione cast a disillusionment charm on herself, choosing to watch what he was doing instead. She silently crept behind the cabinet, now only a few feet from him.

Tossing a green apple in one hand and holding his wand in the other, Draco Malfoy was assessing the inside of the wardrobe with meticulous fervor. He walked slowly toward the back of the cabinet, where Hermione was perched quietly, unbeknownst to Malfoy.

Hermione's breath hitched as Malfoy stared at her, despite being invisible to him. Next time I do this, I'm bringing the invisibility cloak, Hermione thought to herself, worried that Malfoy would notice her.

"Fuck," Malfoy swore in evident frustration, kicking a nearby pile of clutter and sending a stack of ceramic glassware flying and shattering. The shards of what was cups and vases laid on the ground in a sad pile of garbage. Dust fluttered up into the air until it was invisible to Hermione.

She turned her attention back to Malfoy, who was now back in front of the dark, strangely-shaped cabinet. He closed the doors with determined resolution and grabbed a large sheet that had been thrown lazily aside. Shaking it out, Malfoy covered the cabinet, causing Hermione to quickly back away to avoid being covered by the sheet as well.

Unfortunately for Hermione, she backed up into a stack of books, causing a loud crash as the novels came crashing down around her. Malfoy quickly drew his wand out, pointing it at her invisible form.

"Who's there?" he yelled, "I'm warning you. Show yourself!"

Hermione swore silently and took off running toward the door, no longer caring about concealing the volume of her footsteps. Shit, shit, shit.

Malfoy's footsteps echoed behind her as he chased after her, shooting spells towards her. Red streams of light whizzed past her, hitting some of the many objects in the room.

Now out of the room, Hermione booked it for the Gryffindor Tower and effectively cutting Malfoy off. His footsteps faded away, meaning that she had lost him. Thank Godric.

Once far enough away from Malfoy, she stopped running and removed the Disillusionment charm from herself.

So Malfoy was fixing a cabinet. Hermione definitely recognized it's tall, unique shape. She would have to research it later, along with Tempus Itinerantur.

Interesting.