A/N: Hey all! Thanks so much for the reviews - glad to see you're enjoying it so far :)

I actually can't believe I finished this chapter so quickly; I've been involved in the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, as well as writing a 12-15 page paper for Uni. Lucky you guys, I guess ;)

Anyways, hope you enjoy!

"I still can't believe it – Draco Malfoy?" Ginny exclaimed, for about the third time since she had joined Hermione and Neville at the Gryffindor table, "And you didn't hex him into next week?" Hermione found herself grinning at her friend, and certainly feeling better about the situation. Apparently she had been wrong – which didn't often happen – but it seemed that Ginny's Head Girl appointment had not been due to an incredible desire to promote interhouse unity.

"Yes, Ginny. Draco Malfoy. The one and only ferret," Hermione responded, getting laughs from both of her friends. It was funny how she had been so conflicted about Draco, and thoughts of Ron had distracted her, and then she had been so conflicted about Ron and now thoughts of Draco were distracting her. Then again, perhaps it was just Ginny who was distracting her, and making her feel better about both situations.

"Really, Hermione. I mean, after you slapped him in third year, I really can't believe you didn't hex him," Ginny stated again, looking truly confused and almost disappointed in her friend. Hermione simply sighed and shrugged slightly. She really had nothing to say because she herself had no idea why she hadn't hexed him. Of course, for a moment she had thought something was different, and then he had made it obvious that this was only an illusion. But then he was sitting by himself out near the forest…

Hermione caught movement by the entrance doors out of the corner of her eye, and turned to watch McGonagall walk in and head towards the front. The first years were already gathered there, with everyone else slightly confused as to why the ceremony hadn't begun yet. Hermione had simply assumed that something else had come up, something that needed to be dealt with first. And McGonagall had only walked a few feet when another figure entered.

Malfoy? Hermione thought, slightly confused. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his robe, and he looked entirely put out. Looking up, his eyes met hers for only a moment, and she saw his signature sneer plastered there. She turned back to Ginny and Neville, slightly annoyed for some reason. I was right, she thought, nothing's changed.

Or does that mean I was wrong? Hermione chewed on her lip, entirely confused with herself. Especially with her annoyance at the blond – after all, it wasn't as though she'd ever let his actions affect her before. It was only McGonagall's voice, a few moments later, which pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Let the Sorting Ceremony commence," she stated, gesturing to the Sorting Hat, which sat on the same stool as it did every year. Right on cue, it opened its mouth – if you could call it that – and began its annual song.

Oh, I'm not much to look at,

But listen close – I never lie.

I wouldn't be of any use

If there's a better hat than I.

...

So don't worry 'cause I've been here

Since this great school began

And I will keep on sorting you

'Til there's a better plan.

...

Put me on, and I will see

Who you truly are

Your desires and your dreams

Your fears and all your scars

...

Do you belong in Ravenclaw,

With the witty and the smart?

Or perhaps in Hufflepuff,

Where you're together, not apart?

...

Maybe you're a Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave and true?

Or perhaps you are a Slytherin,

With the ambitious and the shrewd?

...

You won't know until you put me on,

So do it and you'll see.

I'm always right, I promise you

There's no smarter hat than me.

...

Now one last thing, I'd like to say.

I'm smart – and that is why

I've noticed that some things have changed

And old habits have to die.

...

Sort you I must – and so I will

But let me tell you this

There was a time when we were one

That time I sorely miss.

...

We've won the war and beat the foe,

Proven that we are strong

But we can only stay this way

If we learn to get along.

...

Each one of you can do great things

You all are great at heart

Remember this – now put me on

And let the Sorting start.

The students clapped as the song ended, which was the custom every year, but Hermione did not join them. The Hat's song had struck a chord in Hermione. Perhaps it was her recent encounter with Draco, perhaps her thoughts about Ron, or maybe her experiences over the last year in general. Once again she didn't know. Chewing on her bottom lip, she cast a quick glance over to the Slytherin table, where Malfoy sat next to Theodor Nott, brooding and looking entirely un-talkative. She couldn't understand why this bothered her so much, though she was still quite certain that it was simply her inability to comprehend the situation.

"Hermione, snap out of it!" Ginny stated, snapped her fingers in front of Hermione's face, and looking slightly concerned, "You almost looked like you were staring at the Slytherins." The redhead raised an eyebrow, letting Hermione know that she had caught on to more than she said out loud, and Hermione sighed.

"Why would I be doing that?" she questioned, slightly aggravated by Ginny's nosiness, though she knew she didn't have much reason to be.

"That was my question," Ginny responded with a small laugh.

Hermione gave her a look that clearly said drop it, I'll tell you later.

Blushing slightly, Ginny quickly changed the subject: "Which of those first years do you two suppose will be in Gryffindor?" she asked.

"That little boy there, with the curly hair," Neville stated quickly – he'd obviously been considering this – and pointed to a taller boy near the back, "I've got a good feeling about him."

"Willing to bet a galleon on it?" Ginny asked, reminding Hermione entirely of Fred and George. She winced when she remembered that it was just George now.

"Yeah, why not," Neville responded, "Who are you betting on? You in Hermione?"

Biting her lip, Hermione nodded: "Oh, sure, I suppose." She had never really been into betting, but anything to take her mind off her thoughts was appreciated at the moment.

"I get that girl near the front. With the blonde hair and the pink barrette," Ginny stated, and Hermione groaned inwardly. She'd been about to pick the same girl.

"Um…" Hermione paused, continuing to chew on her bottom lip, considering.

Ginny laughed, "You're taking this way to seriously, Mione."

"Mione?" Hermione questioned, laughing herself.

"I just thought of it. Can't believe we haven't called you that before," Ginny responded with a grin, "Do you mind?"

Hermione shook her head, "No. It's nice, actually."

Ginny smiled at her, "Okay. Now pick one, they're already starting."

Hermione turned quickly and realized that Ginny was right – a brown-haired boy had just stepped off the stool and was heading towards the Ravenclaw table. She did a quick scan of the first years, and then pointed to a little girl near the back. Honestly, she looked about the least Gryffindor out of all of them, but Hermione knew that looks didn't mean everything:

"I pick her," she stated, "The girl with black hair, at the very back."

Ginny glanced at her, "Really? She's about – "

"Well, look at me," Neville joked, cutting in. They all knew what Ginny had been about to say, "I was about the least likely to be Gryffindor in our whole group of first years, and I think I've turned out okay." He winked at the two girls, and they laughed. It was true, really.

"How did you get in Gryffindor, Neville?" Ginny questioned, eyeing him. Hermione leaned in, wondering how this topic hadn't come up before.

Neville grinned, "Well, I wanted Hufflepuff. The hat and I must have argued for like five minutes about it, and in the end the hat won. Apparently it knew what it was doing, just like it says it does," he stated with a smile.

The girls laughed: "Apparently so," Hermione responded.

"Yeah, well – " Neville began.

"Shhh!" Ginny cut in, gesturing to the front where her choice of student had just taken a seat on the stool. McGonagall placed the hat on the girl's head, and a few moments later:

"SLYTHERIN!" The girl's face fell slightly, as the other tables went quiet. Hermione felt bad for her – the Slytherins weren't exactly appreciated at the moment. Perhaps McGonagall was right with her attempts at promoting interhouse unity.

Ginny scowled, and pushed a Galleon each towards Hermione and Neville, who grinned. The three decided to focus on the Sorting rather than chatting; a few more students were called and then Neville's boy from the back. The hat barely reached his head before:

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Awe, man!" Neville groaned, handing a galleon each to Hermione and Ginny. Ginny laughed; perhaps she wouldn't lose too much due to this bet after all.

Hermione's girl from the back was one of the last to be called; there were only two more after her. The three went silent as she sat on the stool, and they held their breaths as the Sorting Hat was placed on her head. Ten Seconds went by, then thirty, then a minute. The entire room had gone silent now, watching the girl, whose face was scrunched up in contemplation. Hermione was immediately reminded of her own sorting; she had been a hat stall like Neville, though the hat had been deciding between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. It seemed the same thing was happening here.

Two minutes.

Three minutes.

Four minutes.

Finally, there was movement on the stool. The hat opened its mouth and cried out:

"SLYTHERIN!" Hermione's face fell; she had been so sure that…

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat called out, with barely a pause.

You could hear a pin drop in the room. The hat was removed from the girl's head by a stunned McGonagall, who seemed to have no idea how to handle this situation. After a moment's pause she placed the hat back on the girl's head. Without pausing the hat called out:

"SLYTHERIN!" followed only seconds later by, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Hermione crossed her arms, and risked another glance at Draco. He too was watching the situation intently, no longer brooding like he had been moments before. Then he turned slightly, and his eyes caught Hermione's across the room. She turned quickly, realizing as she did so that she was making it obvious that she had been staring.

Draco rested his chin on his hands once again, as Granger tore her gaze away from his. She'd been watching him for who knows how long – and for who knows why. Scowling, he studied the brunette as her face turned slightly red. At least she had the decency to be embarrassed for spying on him.

Merlin, what's up with her today? He thought, mind drawn away from the Sorting mishap for a moment. First the carriage ride, then this? Draco had no idea what to make of either of these incidents, except that they were entirely unwanted and unnecessary. He felt bad enough without being – pitied – by a mudblood, if that's what it was. Which, he supposed, was the most likely answer. Though it still didn't make much sense; everyone else seemed to hate him. Granger of all people had practically every reason to despise him. Maybe she was up to something.

Then it occurred to him that he had once more called her mudblood, albeit in his thoughts, and once more he didn't really feel guilty. Which bothered him.

Oh, for Salazar's sake, what's wrong with me? He thought, for the millionth time that day. He knew he felt guilty, that he had done things he regretted, but he still wasn't sure why he felt this way. He didn't know what this made him now, either. Had he changed? What exactly had happened to him?

Forcing himself out of his thoughts, Draco realized that he was still staring in Granger's direction, though she didn't seem to have noticed. He turned back to look at the front of the room, where the confused student and Headmistress were still attempting to figure out the situation. It was certainly odd, and Draco wondered if it had anything to do with the strangeness of the Hat's song at the beginning of the ceremony. But the Hat was under a spell to sort every student into one house and one house only – for this to be happening meant something was going wrong.

Or right? A little voice in the back of his head questioned, but Draco ignored it. He certainly didn't need anything else to figure out at the moment.

"This is really strange," Astoria commented, sitting across the table from Draco. He simply nodded, not bothering to respond, "What do you think they'll do?" she questioned.

Theo shifted uncomfortably beside Draco, and he gritted his teeth. If he's so upset about her talking and fawning over me all the time, why doesn't he just bloody do something? He wondered. He had half a mind to just forget about Theo and ask Astoria out himself – he liked her quite a bit, honestly. The only reason it hadn't happened was because Draco really did care about his friends, and he didn't want Theo to get hurt. He'd have to talk to him at some point; this couldn't keep going on.

"I have no idea," Draco finally responded, when Astoria shot him a look for not answering her. McGonagall had now sorted the other two students, one to Hufflepuff and one to Gryffindor, and she was replacing the Sorting Hat on the mixed up student for what must be the fifth time. This time, the hat clearly called out.

"Gryffindor!" And then went silent. The entire Hall held their breaths, waiting, but the Hat did not speak again.

"That was bloody odd," Blaise finally stated, turning around from his seat beside Astoria to face the group again, "Salazar – something strange is going on here."

Draco nodded. Even though the situation seemed to have sorted itself out – no pun intended – the Hall was still quiet. Nothing like this had happened before, and Draco had to wonder if perhaps the Hat was fighting its own spell to make a point. This wasn't the first time that it had sung about interhouse unity after all. But it was definitely the first time that it had tried to sort a student into two houses. Gryffindor and Slytherin out of all of them, too. Placing his head in his hands, Draco groaned. It was too much to think about, especially when added to everything else.

McGonagall stepped back up to the podium, raising her hands for silence, though the Hall was still quite quiet. The Headmistress looked quite flustered, which was something Draco had never seen before, and he couldn't quite connect the emotion to the sternness she usually portrayed.

"Well – that was an interesting turn of events," she stated, her voice shaking ever so slightly, "But, we will continue on as normal." She took a deep breath, and when she spoke again her voice was noticeably steadier, "Now, I mentioned at the train station that there would be changes made here at Hogwarts as a result of the last couple of years. These will, as I am sure some of you have guessed, be put in place to encourage interhouse unity. I feel that this last year specifically many of you have had – shall we say – hard feelings towards each other." McGonagall glanced over at the Slytherins as she said this, then quickly turned her gaze away, "This needs to change."

Immediately there was a flurry of chatter at the other tables, though the Slytherins remained mostly quiet. Draco once more felt sick as students from the other houses shot angry glares at their table. Without thinking, he looked down to avoid their gazes, and then realized that this was about the worst thing that he could do. He was a Malfoy, and Malfoy's did not show weakness. Not ever.

"Silence!" McGonagall cut across his thoughts, and the noise in the Hall dropped. Draco forced on his indifferent mask, and looked back up to listen to the Headmistress. Taking a quick peak at his friends, he saw that they all looked just as unnerved as he had felt only moments prior. They had all known that this would be a difficult year, but it seemed that none of them knew exactly how difficult.

McGonagall surveyed the crowd of students, settling down after her recent pronouncement of 'silence'. She had not been oblivious to the nasty stares and looks sent the Slytherins way by that of the other tables. However, she had noticed that a certain group of Gryffindors had not taken part in it. Perhaps she had once again misjudged Ms. Granger and her friends, which she certainly hoped was true. After all, she had already made her decision, and she wasn't going to change it now.

When the students all stared back up at her expectantly, McGonagall continued, "The first of these changes is that we will be having a school dance," excited squeals from the girls began, and McGonagall again held up her hands, "But this will be no ordinary dance. Every student in years four and above, as with the Yule Ball, is required to attend."

Groans from the first, second, and third year girls. Cheers from the boys in the same years.

"However, not only will everyone be required to attend, but if you would like to attend with a date it must be a student from another house."

This announcement brought only silence, as everyone seemed to consider exactly what this meant. McGonagall allowed the news to settle in for a moment. This idea had come to her both as a way of promoting unity among the houses, and also as a way of bringing about excitement in the school once more. Godric knows they needed it, after the horrors of last year.

After a moment, she continued: "Secondly, I have decided to appoint two students to head a new 'interhouse' committee, where they will work together with a group of other students to integrate creative new methods of building relationships into the everyday life of Hogwarts." She let out a breath as this statement settled in. This was it. The moment that she had planned for, thought about, and finally made a decision on.

"These students," she began again, "Must plan at least four events throughout the year, which the entire school will take part in. And as for who they are; they are the two who, disregarding the events of the last year or so, would have been chosen as Head Boy and Head Girl. The two with the highest grades and who showed strong signs of intelligence. These two, who will be given the titles of Honorary Head Boy and Girl, are," McGonagall took another deep breath, already beginning to regret her decision: "Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy."

Hermione's sharp intake of breath could be heard halfway along the Gryffindor table. Honorary Head Girl? She thought, confused, Where did that come from…? Of course, she would only be heading some committee and working on interhouse unity, but still…this was what she wanted, right? Only…

Turning quickly, her eyes once again met Draco's across the room. His were steely and cold, and she could tell that he was in no way happy about this decision. Not that she was either – in fact, she was already planning to talk to McGonagall about it.

Who, in their right mind, would choose Draco Malfoy for the job of promoting interhouse unity? Hermione thought, turning from Malfoy to look at McGonagall, who seemed to be giving them a moment to take in this news. However, as soon as Hermione looked at her, the older witch turned her head and met Hermione's eyes. In them, Hermione saw both worry and trust, and she thought that perhaps she understood. McGonagall wasn't certain about this decision either, but she needed a Slytherin to head the committee. Slytherin was basically the reason for – or behind – all these problems, so without their cooperation it meant nothing. What Hermione still didn't understand was why Draco Malfoy had to be that Slytherin. It could have been Daphne, Blaise, or Theo, all of whom seemed like more appropriate choices.

"I now ask both of you to come to the front and shake hands, so that we may begin this feast with a show of unity. You will then sit at the empty places at the Staff Table for the remainder of the feast, to begin your discussion of plans for the next year," McGonagall stated. She glanced at Hermione after speaking the words, and Hermione thought she saw a small amount of pity in the Headmistresses gaze, but she couldn't be certain.

Ginny reached over and gave Hermione's hand a small squeeze and smiled at her encouragingly. Hermione gave her a look that asked did you know about this? A small flash of guilt passed through Ginny's eyes, and Hermione had her answer. This upset her for some reason, and she pulled her hand from Ginny's. Harry and Ron would never have kept secrets from her like this.

Hermione forced herself to stand, and saw Draco doing the same at the Slytherin table. He looked cool and collected again, though she could also tell that he was entirely tense. He certainly wasn't enjoying this. Which once again struck Hermione as odd – just another thing to add to the list of the recent strangeness of Draco Malfoy. She was certain that at one point he would have been reveling in the attention that this gave him – now it seemed like he would far rather be hidden up in his dormitory.

The two reached the podium at almost the same time, and McGonagall gestured for them to shake hands. Hermione quickly stretched out her hand, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. Draco uncurled his fist, and reached out to take her hand in his. Hermione had expected it to be cold and stiff, like his demeanor, but it wasn't. As their hands clasped, she found that his was warm and soft, and sent a small tingling of heat through her. They shook quickly, and then locked eyes at the last moment. Hermione saw a small flash of panic pass through his cool gaze before they broke away. For the infinite time that day she had no idea what it meant.

Draco just wanted to die. Truthfully, he wished someone would show up and Avada Kedavra him on the spot so that he wouldn't need to go through this anymore. Merlin, after everything that had happened last year McGonagall of all people was choosing him to be some stupid promoter of interhouse unity? If he was being honest with himself he knew that this was something Hogwarts probably did need, but he also knew that he certainly was not the one to help bring it about. His stupid parents and their prejudices were far to deeply ingrained in him, and he couldn't even figure out his own thoughts on the matter. How could he help change anyone else's?

"You may sit down," McGonagall told them. Draco turned abruptly and walked towards the table she had gestured to earlier, feeling sick. He slumped into a chair, and then, remembering where he was, straightened up again, his indifferent mask firmly in place. His mind, however, was racing to find a way out of this.

Granger sat down beside him, and he eyed her warily. After his pulling away from her in the carriage, and her comment about mudblood germs, he was quite worried that she would hex him under the table. He shifted his chair slightly away from her, and she frowned.

"Let the feast begin!" McGonagall stated, clapping her hands. Immediately food began piling itself on the tables and the students, forgetting momentarily about the announcements, dug in.

Neither Hermione nor Draco moved, but instead continued to eye each other warily.

Finally, "Do you want me to pass you anything?" Hermione questioned, attempting to be polite. She didn't want to make a scene in front of the entire student body, and if she had to work with Malfoy all year, she thought she might as well be civil.

Draco glared at her: "What, and get your mudblood germs all over my food?" he sneered coldly, repeating her earlier words.

"I believe you said you didn't use the word 'mudblood' anymore," Hermione responded with equal coldness.

Draco's eyes widened, but only for a split second. He hadn't meant to say it out loud – especially not to her – and especially not now. But he had, and that was that.

"I was just repeating what you yourself said earlier," he responded, which was true.

Hermione rolled her eyes: "Oh, and I suppose that makes it perfectly fine, right?" she questioned, crossing her arms.

"No," Draco admitted honestly, though he wasn't sure why he said it. This gave Hermione pause, and he watched as she began to chew on her bottom lip, clearly confused.

"What do you mean 'no'?" Hermione finally asked, drawing out the last word.

"I bloody mean 'no' Granger. Or is that too difficult for you to understand," he responded, an edge of frustration to his voice, "I already told you, I haven't called you that in years. You're the one who brought it up earlier, and I was just repeating your bloody judgmental words," he finished, though he didn't really mean it. He knew that everything that she'd said about him earlier was probably true – or at least had been – and that she had every right to say it. He was simply frustrated, and she was the nearest person. Besides, him fighting with Granger wasn't exactly an unusual thing.

"Oh," was all Hermione said, staring at him in complete bewilderment. She wasn't at all used to seeing Draco like this. Something was definitely going on, and she wanted to figure out what it was.

"Look, is it too much to ask that we be civil to each other, even for a few moments. We're supposed to come up with some sort of plan for the inter – " Hermione began.

"I don't think you get it, Granger. I don't want to have anything to do with this interhouse unity thing. I didn't exactly ask to be put into this position," he paused for a moment, before meeting her eyes, "And I certainly didn't ask to have to work with you."

Hermione's eyes narrowed, and she glared at him, "Well, thank goodness. Did you think I was planning to enjoy working with a ferret all year?"

For some reason, her comment bothered Draco. And even more unexpectedly, it made him want to prove her wrong. He wondered, for a small second, if this could be his one chance. Or his second chance – or millionth – whichever way you wanted to look at it, to show that he had changed. Or at least, to find out for himself whether he really had.

"Well, your comment about us being civil would seem to say that you aren't entirely against the idea," he stated, smirking. It felt odd, like something he hadn't done in a while, "And I do seem to remember that you grabbed my sleeve when I was trying to leave the carriage."

"You know why I did that. You looked awful, and I just wanted to – "

"To stick your nose where it doesn't belong. Like always," Draco finished, already feeling infinitely better than he had only moments before.

Hermione's eyes were glaring daggers at him, "Look, make up your mind. Do you want to work with me or not?"

"That's not a good question, Granger. Of course I don't want to work with you – but I'm starting to think that I want to have this position after all," he stated, mimicking her as he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

"Godric, you're so bloody difficult!" Hermione spat out.

"Language, Granger," Draco mocked, raising a blond brow. Hermione immediately paused, and Draco thought he saw her turn slightly white. She met his eyes again, but this time there was no malice there. He didn't know it, of course, but she was remembering how Ron had said something similar that morning on the train. That morning that seemed like forever ago.

"Hypocrite," she found herself responding, before she could hold the word back. Neither she nor Draco dropped their gazes, both confused by the others' words. Then they broke away, both feeling slightly embarrassed.

What is with this? Draco thought. We just had two seconds of almost civil conversation – even if we were mocking each other the whole time.

Hermione, chewing on her lip, was thinking almost the same thing. After a moment, she reached out and put a baked potato and a piece of chicken on her plate, and Draco grabbed some food as well. He hadn't realized until this moment exactly how hungry he was. The two chewed on their meals in silence, glancing over at the other now and then, attempting to figure out exactly what had gone wrong between them.

Or right? That little voice in Draco's head questioned once again, and for the second time that day he ignored it. He didn't want anything to go right between him and Granger; the two had always been enemies, and as much as he perhaps wanted this position all of a sudden, and wanted to prove that he had changed, he didn't want anything to be different between the two of them. Arguing with Granger gave him back a little piece of his sanity, one that he had honestly missed over the –

Missed? What are you thinking? He berated himself, though he realized it was true. When Granger had shown up at Malfoy Manor, along with Potter and Weasley, he'd realized how much he would have given to be back at school taunting and arguing with them, even if it meant always feeling inferior to Potter. He'd realized that he had, in some entirely demented way, missed his three enemies. And now, sitting with Granger, he felt almost normal for the first time in what seemed like forever.

"So, are you doing this or not?" Hermione finally asked, when the two had finished eating, and the meal had disappeared. Dessert took its place, but Draco ignored it.

"To be honest, even when I was threatening not to, I knew I probably didn't have much choice. Unless I wanted to leave the school – and I came back, so why in hell would I do that?" Draco stated truthfully, once again wondering why he was being honest. He guessed that it was because he had only just realized the truth of this statement, and that it meant he would have to work with Hermione. So he'd better get somewhat used to it. Not that he had to like it, or even be civil about it.

"Okay, so what do – " Hermione began.

"Look, Granger. I know you're a bloody know-it-all and you want to always be ahead and in control, but I am getting a headache. We're going to need to discuss this another time," Draco cut in, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I am not a – "

"Yes, you are a know-it-all; it's a simple fact," Draco responded, resting his chin on his hands once again.

"And you're a foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach," Hermione stated almost calmly, though her eyes were narrowing once again. Draco laughed at her expression: this was the Granger he was used too. She glared at him.

"Why are you laughing?" she questioned, tone aggravated.

"Because you're bloody hilarious when you talk like that," Draco responded.

"I don't remember you laughing when I said that in third year," she stated.

Draco frowned, "That's because you had your wand out and were about to hex me into next week."

"You deserved it," Hermione told him coolly, "You could have gotten Buckbeak kill – " Hermione quickly cut off, cheeks reddening. Draco met her eyes, confused.

"Could have?"

"Never mind," Hermione stated, far to quickly.

"No, what do you mean, could have?" Draco responded swiftly, trying to find an answer in her actions, but she had put up a strangely good mask. He hadn't known she could do that.

"It's none of your business," she retorted, looking away from him, and grabbing the nearest dessert as a way to calm herself.

Draco sighed, thinking fast: "Look, Granger, I'll make you a deal. You tell me what happened with – that overgrown chicken – and I'll answer any question you ask me. Alright?" He bit his lip, knowing immediately that this was not going to turn out well for him. But he was extremely curious about the hippogriff.

Hermione considered this, and then turned back to look at him. "Fine," she replied, "But we can't talk here."

"What, you're trying to get me on my own now?" Draco joked, though his heart wasn't in it. The mention of the hippogriff had taken any humor out of him and he was, of course, entirely confused as to why.

"Of course not, you – " Hermione began.

"I was bloody joking, Granger."

"Draco Malfoy, joking. I never thought I'd see the day,"

"Ha – Ha," Draco drawled humorlessly.

The two stared at each other for another moment. Then the desserts disappeared, and McGonagall dismissed the students. Draco quickly stood up, wanting nothing more than to get out of there.

"Hey! I thought we had a deal," Hermione said quickly, resisting the urge to grab his sleeve again. She didn't really want to talk to him anymore tonight, but she did want to know what was going on with him. And he'd said she could ask him anything.

Draco sighed: "Look, I'm exhausted. Besides, we'll have plenty of time tomorrow in detention," he began, cutting off when he saw Hermione's confused expression.

"Detention?"

All of the relief that these last few moments had brought to Draco disappeared, as he remember that he was the cause of his three classmates spending time in detention tomorrow. Once again, it was his fault. He wanted to hex himself.

"Yeah – " he began slowly, "I may have forgotten Lovegood's fact from the carriages, and McGonagall may have given us all detention because of it…" he broke off again as Hermione's face fell.

"I knew it, you weren't even listening," she stated angrily, cutting him off as he tried to defend himself, "Godric, and I thought for a moment you had changed somehow." She stood up, and swept past him, eyes blazing.

Draco watched her go, emotions entirely conflicted. She thought I had changed? After five minutes? He wondered, as her bushy head disappeared out the doors of the Great Hall. For some reason he felt bad for disappointing her. Get yourself together, Malfoy, he told himself, this is bloody Granger we're talking about.

Sticking his hands back in the pockets of his robe, he sighed. Hopefully her anger at him wouldn't mean that he didn't get to hear what had happened with the Hippogriff.

Draco strode quickly behind the last remaining students and walked out of the Hall. All he wanted now was to get to his dormitory, crawl into bed, and fall asleep. Hopefully his consistent dreams wouldn't bother him, though he strongly doubted it.

To be continued...

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed! I'd love a review on your way out :)

Also, for those of you looking for really fluffy and quick Dramione, I (don't) apologize. These two definitely need some background before they ever get together :)

Anyways, thanks again for reading! Love you all!