Disclaimer: You know the drill. NOT mine. So sad.

Dedicated to my bestest buddy Morgan!

Chapter 5: M.O. Emergency

After that embarrassing incident in the bathroom, Draco had retreated to his room. He feared running into Hermione and having her ridicule him.

The next morning, he finally emerged. But he had made a silent vow to humiliate her too. It was, of course, revenge for turning him into a ferret and insulting his, ahem, manhood.

While all these thoughts were whirling through his mind, Hermione decided to make her entrance. She was clad in a very modest skirt and a blouse that was even more modest. Hermione was also wearing knee highs with her Mary Jane's.

Draco glanced at her outfit and snorted. 'Geez, Granger dresses worse than my grandmother.' Light bulb This was his chance to embarrass her. With his face contorted into an evil grin he said, "Good God Granger, you dress worse than my grandmother. Ever thought of showing a little skin every now and then? What are you, a NUN?"

Hermione turned crimson. Her blood began to boil. Her right hand began to twitch and he swore that she was struggling not to slap him. But, instead, Hermione turned on her heel and angrily stormed back up the stairs.

Draco sat back and smiled smugly. The rest of the drew looked at him with pity. He had unofficially started a war with Hermione. This was not a war that would be easily won. Before anyone could utter a word, the furious girl had screamed, "Pansy! Ginny! M.O. Emergency!"

Hurriedly, the girls being summoned scramble upstairs. They knew what the emergency was and they were itching to help her. The boys back in the kitchen were wholly confused.

"What is an M.O. Emergency?" asked Ron, scratching his head in complete confusion.

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Back upstairs, the girls were working on their emergency. M.O. stood for make-over. They had come up with this code so the others would know when they were in need of their service. Usually it was getting ready for balls, or other formal occasions. Hermione reasons were more evil.

Hermione's bedroom was in a mass of clothes, shoes, and hair and beauty products. The main goal of all of this: to bring down Malfoy. Hermione had the potential if she dressed with a little more skin. But she chose to dress in a different fashion. Her clothes had to be up to her standards and no one else's.

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About an hour later, they were finally ready to unveil their masterpiece. Pansy and Ginny went into the den where the three men (ha men, right) were playing video games, courtesy of Hermione.

"Harry, Hun," Ginny cooed, draping her arm over his shoulder. All she got in response was a grunt. Highly offended, Ginny pointed her hand at the television and it blew-up. Harry looked at her furiously.

"Gin!" cried Harry.

"Oh, quit giving me that look. It was only a video game. We, we being Pansy and I, have something to show all of you."

"Presenting," took over Pansy, "The fabulous, new-and-improved, Hermione Granger.

Hermione strutted into the boys' range of vision. One glance at her and their jaws simultaneously dropped to the floor. Hermione was clad in a skin-tight, white halter top with a low v-neck. She was also wearing a tight, skimpy jean skirt and black stilettos. Her hair was cascading down in soft curls, down her back. The make-up she was wearing was natural looking. To complete the new do, she had stolen Malfoy's smirk.

Hermione went up to Malfoy and put her head level to his. She could sense that he was uncomfortable being this close to Hermione. She almost laughed out loud at that.

"I don't really that your grandmother looks like this, now does she?" Hermione breathed into his ear. Now he was really losing it. Draco decided he would go in for a kiss. But, a second before their lips met, Hermione turned her head and licked the side of his face, leaving a trail of saliva on his cheek.

Everyone laughed themselves into a fit of hysteria. Everyone, that is, except for Draco. Hermione looked up to Draco, expecting to see him blow-up in fury. It was, after all, a war. But, he just sat there, seemingly dejected. Hermione frowned. He wasn't supposed to be upset; he was supposed to take revenge. Well, that just ruins everything.

"Draco, I…" Hermione didn't get to finish. Draco had stormed off when she started speaking. He seemed deeply hurt. Hermione went after him.

When she got to his door she knocked. No answer. Hermione knocked once more. Again, no answer.

"Malfoy, if you don't open the door this instant, you will find that the door is no more." The door swung open. Hermione continued in and then began her apology.

"I'm really sorry Draco. I guess that I took it a little bit too far. After all, it was you who started this war. That's not the point. I want to make it up to you.

"How?"

"Well, you could lick my face." He stared at her incredulously. Hermione stepped closer. "Just kidding." Closer. "I was thinking," Closer. "I could do," Closer. "This." Then she kissed him. He immediately responded. He's a guy, what do you expect?

They parted on account of a lack of oxygen. For a couple of minutes they just stood their in silence, stealing glances at one another. Finally Draco mumbled something.

"What was that?" questioned Hermione.

"I said you're forgiven." Hermione smiled. Before she left the room, she quickly gave him a hug and a peck on the lips. Hermione shouted her thanks over her shoulder as she walked out of his room.

"No, thank you," mutter Draco softly to himself.

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Once the whole 'war' was over, Hermione and much more civil to one another. A couple of days later, Dumbledore made an appearance.

"Hello Heirs. How are you on this fine day?" Hermione felt a wave boredom and frustration wash over her. The emotions channeled from the rest of the crew were urging Hermione to tell off Dumbledore. The brunette had a feeling that they were doing this just to witness Hermione speak back to their once professor.

"Actually sir, we are quite bored at the moment. I am sick and tired of staying in this old, moldy excuse for a house. I want to go out into the world, discover and experience new things. Most of all, I WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL. Of course that isn't possible in light of certain events. We need to stop hiding, go find Voldemort, and KICK SOME EVIL ASS!! BUT, YOU WON'T LET US LEAVE!" Hermione was flushed after her powerful monologue. She was relieve that she got that off her chest and embarrassed that she let herself get carried away.

Dumbledore was shocked at first, but then he started to chuckle. "Ms. Granger, you must have been holding that in for awhile. Well, I'm glad you got that out of your system. No need to apologize. It is hard to deal with one's emotions. Especially when the emotional baggage of others is being thrust upon you." The last sentence was directed at the five who had willing passed Hermione their feelings.

"Anyway, since you all are so bored, I have come up with a plan. The plan is to hold relay races." Most looked at Dumbledore like he had three heads. "Relay races are a series of different races. I guess that it could be considered a muggle sport. The races may be anywhere from quaffle toss to 100 meter dash. You will be one teams of two. The teams are: Harry-Ginny, Ron-Pansy, and Draco-Hermione."

"Now all you have to do is come up with a team name and uniforms. Tootles." And with that, the headmaster left, the room, humming a Mary Poppins tune.

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The six young adults sat around brainstorming ideas for the uniform and names for the upcoming competition. Hermione suddenly jumped upright, eyes sparkling with ideas. She concentrated hard on Draco and herself. When she opened her eyes, she grinned.

Draco was clad in navy blue and silver swim trunks. On the side of the pant was the team name- The Enemies. He was also wearing a tee that matched his shorts. Hermione was sporting a tankini and shorts that were the same colors as Draco's ensemble. Her outfit also bore the team name.

The other teams' were similar. Harry's and Ginny's were gold and maroon with the name The Fighters. Ron's and Pansy's were white and deep green. Their name was The Dreamers.

Everyone peered around the room, checking out the other's uniforms. With satisfied nods, they all went up to bed, looking forward to the races that wise, old man had prepared for them.