Partner up! So, the potion that they are making, I totally made up since it seemed to fit in the situation.

Chapter 2

"Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy!"

Oh, the heavens were not smiling down upon me. I actually felt the vile rise up my throat at the thought of working with Malfoy on a potions assignment. He didn't move from his seat when Professor Snape released us to work on a rather simple potion—Stomatis, a potion to cure an ailing stomach. I would need some at the end of class. I huffed at Malfoy not moving and stepped over next to him. He stared at me like I was mad.

"What are you doing?" he snapped.

"We were paired as partners, in case you haven't noticed." His nose twitched. I suppressed my annoyance. "I don't want to be partners with you either, but we have to do this."

I put my book out on the table, Ron's and Harry's sympathetic eyes glancing my way. Good thing they thought Malfoy was done for and not the other way around. They would receive and earful otherwise.

"Now, first is the water to make the base, then on to the ginger root powder," I explained, and Malfoy sat there, folding his arms and staring at the front of the classroom, not saying a word. I shook my head at his uncooperating attitude, and just did as the book asked, choosing ingredients and setting them out on our table next the small black cauldron. Professor Snape kept a close eye on all the partners' work. I groaned in irritation. Wasn't Malfoy going to help?

"Mr. Malfoy," we heard, and Malfoy jumped in his seat from the sound of Professor Snape's deep and monotone voice. "Do not let Miss Granger do all the work."

"But Professor..."

Snape lifted a brow, which silenced Malfoy. I smirked as our professor walked away.

"Don't look all smug, Granger," he quipped.

"Was I?"

He sighed in frustration at my nonchalance. I added the next ingredient of ginger, then Malfoy snatched the next one. My brows rose. It was the right one.

"Have you made this before?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"No. I have a book in front of me, you know. Seriously, mudblood," he muttered.

My chest pricked. I sucked in a breath, trying not to let my hurt from that word show. Malfoy still noticed.

"Get over it, Granger. It's what you are."

"It doesn't make it right," I snapped, and a few people looked over. "I can't help the family I was born into, the same as you."

He gave me a mean glare. "I'm fine with the family I was born into. Filthy rich and pureblood. Unlike you. I saw your parents in the bookstore—tattered, grungy, and poor. And eyesore."

The fury rose in me like a rocket to the skies. "Don't you dare insult my parents! They're good people, unlike yours."

He rose a little from his seat, his eyes wide and filled with fire. "Don't you go insulting my parents!"

"You insulted mine!"

"Only because they're filth, like you."

"How dare you!"

A shiny black wand suddenly appeared between our furious stares, and we both jumped a little. Professor Snape stood before us, his brows pushed together. "I would do less bickering and more potion-creating," he said. "Get to it." We sat facing front and away from one another. Snape tapped his wand on the table. "Now."

He left, and I huffed and huffed through my nose, trying to release my fury. I glanced around and saw all the kids in the class looking at Malfoy and I. My cheeks heated up in embarrassment and I got to the next ingredient, the one Draco was going to put in, but didn't because of the argument.

"Just my luck," Malfoy muttered, arms folded.

"You're telling me," I said, and eventually finished the potion, without Malfoy's help. I walked out of the classroom with Harry and Ron, but books hugged against my chest, and a frown on my face.

"Blymee, Hermione," Ron enthused. "Leave it to you to get in an argument with Malfoy, after the slimy name he called you yesterday." He paused and made a face. "Uhk, I can still taste those slugs."

"He started it," I said, clutching my books. "Calling me... oh, I can't stand him! And already. The next five years are going to be horrible with him around."

"I share the same sentiments, Granger," we heard, and Malfoy passed us with Crabbe and Goyle. "Only it's going to be hell sharing the same school with a filthy mudblood."

We three halted, and my chest started constricting. Hot tears seared my eyes as Malfoy's blonde head disappeared in the crowd of students.

"Why I odda..." Ron said, but Harry stopped him from going after Malfoy.

"What a jerk," Harry said.

"You got that right," I said, and started walking. Harry and Ron joined me on the way to charms, another class shared with Malfoy.

People talked. And in the common room that evening, a few Gryffindors patted me on the back, telling me that I had guts to talk back to Draco Malfoy, and to actually argue with him. They would never dream of it since the boy could hold a grudge.

And that's what I was afraid of—he could hold grudges. I just earned a ticket to the very top of Draco Malfoy's hate list. A one-way ticket.

I passed some Slytherin girls on the way to breakfast the next morning, and they gave me mean looks.

"How dare she insult our prince," one girl with long brown hair, said as I, Ron, Harry, and Sheamus Finnigan walked behind them, but I was out of the other three's conversation.

"Insult, she shouldn't even talk to him," another girl with a similar appearance. "Her dirty blood will get on him."

"Honestly," said the third, a blonde. "The nerve of that mudblood, insulting the Malfoy name." They glanced back at me snidely, then ahead again. "Draco was probably hurt more than anything else, poor guy."

They walked on, and my heart pricked. I've never insulted someone before, especial not a person's parents without really getting to know them. I only met Lucious Malfoy once, and I haven't laid eyes on his wife.

I sighed. Great. Now I feel bad for insulting not Malfoy, but his parents. Malfoy's an arrogant, proud snot, and a bully.

The day went on, and I pushed through my classes. At the end of the day, my heart pounded. It was horrible, thinking that I had to apologize to Draco Malfoy. I rounded a corner with Harry and Ron and about ran straight into said boy. Of course.

"Watch where you're going, mudblood," he spat, then shoved off.

I huffed. No. I shouldn't apologizing to him. He deserved that insult.

"I really don't like him, and from day one" Ron said. "Calls you mudblood, and doesn't care in the least that it hurts your feelings."

"I guess that's something you'll have to get used to," Harry said to me.

"No, I can't," I said, my throat tightening. "Every time he says that word, it's like a stab to the heart. Someday he'll see that what he's doing is wrong."

"And that's going to be never," Ron muttered. "His heart's as black and as cold as a stone in the winter."

Ron wasn't helping things. "Let's just go. I'm tired."

We walked on to the common room and I instantly went up to my bed and shut the red curtains around me, tears in my eyes. I fought them, but they fell anyway.

Someday he'll know. Someday he'll figure out that all he's doing is hurting people.