Chapter 2

Disclaimer: This is a fan fiction based on the Harry Potter Series. Anything you recognize is not mine, I am not profiting from this, and this story is for entertainment purposes only.

Of course her good mood couldn't last. Just as Hermione had composed herself she heard her troubles catching up to her. "Hermione! Hermione wait!" Ron shouted down the hall. Before he could reach her, she leapt into the Room of Requirement and slammed the door shut behind her. It vanished and she took a few steps back, waiting to see if the room would let him in. When nothing happened, she let out a sigh of relief. "You know you can't stay in here forever Granger." She jumped and spun around. In her panic, she had forgotten he was even in here. "Especially seeing as I'm using the room." Draco stood tall, looking down his nose at her. Hermione shot him a glare worthy of their late potion's master. Her foul humor was returning quickly. "The room is large enough for both of us to use Malfoy." She waved a hand to indicate behind her. "And I'm hardly going to go back out there right now."

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Rolling her eyes she said, "Fine, have it your way." She walked past him to the empty space before the stage and sat in a chair that appeared for her. Draco followed her to the chair and tried to loom over her. "How about a bargain? You let me stay here for an hour or so, and I won't tell anyone about your… performance." She stuck out her hand, but he ignored it. He walked back to the stage, obviously scheming. Hermione wondered if she should be worried, but son of a death eater or not, he was better company then what awaited her outside of the room.

Finally, Draco stopped and leaned against the stage. He radiated arrogance, so whatever his plan was he was pleased with it. She waited while he attempted to let suspense build. "That was a nice attempt Granger; I could almost believe you were a first year Slytherin." He looked slightly superior and her tight hold on her anger slipped. Hermione almost hexed him. "However, I'm going to need better insurance against you being anything other than discreet." Hermione started listing hexes and counters in her head. He was trying to bait her and it was working. "You perform something and we'll call it even." Hermione blinked, opened her mouth, and then closed it.

"You want me to what?" She asked incredulously. She stood as if to emphasize her denial. "It's really a simple concept Granger." Draco said easily. "If I have dirt on you then you won't use similar dirt you have on me." He yawned, stretched, and began to walk towards the door behind her. "On the other hand, I am tired…" Hermione covered her eyes with her hand and sighed. "Fine, so long as I get an undisturbed hour after the performance." She really had no idea why she was agreeing to this, except perhaps she wanted to stop thinking. She had just enjoyed herself watching Draco make a fool out of himself. At least being ridiculed by him in turn would give her something trivial to consider instead of what felt like the world weighing in on her life.

Draco actually looked surprised but recovered easily and sat in a chair the room provided for him. He gestured to the stage and the lights and back screens came on. She climbed up on stage and thought about what song she should perform. She didn't have any time or inclination to rewrite a song like he did, though she would love to know where he had heard a Muggle song, but she could think of one song that would rebut his holier than thou attitude. Using her wand she programmed the song into the stage's magic and began to sing.

Hermione felt the magic wrap around her throat making her voice sound smooth and warm. She gave a genuine smile. Knowing he couldn't sing either was a point in her favor. Amusement colored her voice and she looked directly at Malfoy as she sang. "I've known a few guys who thought they were pretty smart, But you've got being right down to an art, You think you're a genius-you try to make me fall, You're a regular original, a know-it-all." Malfoy looked startled and she knew technically the pot was calling the kettle black but he seemed to take a twisted sort of pleasure at besting her in potions without any real effort. "Oh-oo-oh, you think you're special, Oh-oo-oh, you think you're something else, Okay, so you're a natural potion brewer, that don't impress me much." The Slytherin relaxed but she knew that could not last. "So you got the brain but have you got the touch, don't get me wrong, yeah I think you're alright, But that won't keep me warm in the middle of the night, that don't impress me much."

Draco's face, despite his best efforts, was tinged with pink. "I never knew a guy who carried a mirror in his pocket, and a comb up his sleeve-just in case. And all that extra hold gel in your hair oughtta lock it, 'cause Heaven forbid it should fall outta place" His face slowly lost its pink color. She wondered at his sudden control. "Oh-oo-oh, you think you're special, Oh-oo-oh, you think you're something else, okay, so you're a pure blood, that don't impress me much. So you got the looks but have you got the touch? Don't get me wrong, yeah I think you're alright, but that won't keep me warm in the middle of the night, that don't impress me much" Hermione frowned but kept the teasing tone in her voice. He looked inordinately intrigued, not at all the response she was expecting.

"You're one of those guys who likes to polish his broom stick, you make me wash my hands before you let me on. I can't believe you kiss your ride good night, c'mon baby tell me-you must be jokin', right!" Nothing, no comments from the peanut gallery. She wondered if he was saving all his snide remarks for when she was through. "Oh-oo-oh, you think you're special, Oh-oo-oh, you think you're something else, okay, so you've got a nimbus 2001, that don't impress me much. So you got the moves but have you got the touch, don't get me wrong, yeah I think you're alright, but that won't keep me warm in the middle of the night, That don't impress me much, You think you're cool but have you got the touch, Don't get me wrong, yeah I think you're alright, But that won't keep me warm on the long, cold, lonely night, That don't impress me much, Okay, so what do you think you're Lockheart or something...Oo-Oh-Oh That don't impress me much! Oh-Oh-Oh-Oh-No Alright! Alright! You're Alberic Grunnion! Victor Crum maybe. Nicholas Flamel. Whatever! That don't impress me much!"

Finished and surprised at how tired she was she dropped off the edge of the stage and leaned against it with a sigh. Malfoy stood, stretched, and said, "Interesting choice Granger, I suppose that you have held up your end of our bargain." Hermione waved her hand at him in a dismissive gesture as she walked over to the left wall of the room. If he wasn't going to insult her, she wasn't going to tempt fate by staying close by. The room sensed her desire and turned the wall into a alcove, complete with a bookshelf and a cushy chair.