I know! You all hate me now. But this will all work out, I promise. So if you hate the new parts, just stop reading where it got stupid. And if you love the new parts...well, here's some more!

Draco woke up slowly, he reached over to touch the empty sheets next to him. He was pretty sure something was supposed to be there, but he couldn't remember what. He turned on his bedside light, knocking over a small pouch. The pouch burst on the ground and the ringing of galleons on stone filled the air. He let out a breath. His stomach filled with lead as he remembered yesterday's events. He knew deep down he shouldn't have taken the galleons…but technically he had won.

Won what? He asked himself. Not Hermione.

He tried remembering where he was. The Slytherin dorms. He'd taken refuge there after the portrait in front of his and Hermione's dorm wouldn't let him enter. He figured the password would be along the lines of "Draco Malfoy is an arse," but he figured he'd let her be.

The common room and the corridor beyond were both deserted but he could hear the murmur of a hundred voices as he neared the Great Hall. The doors were left wide open, Draco immediately searched the Gryffindor table for Hermione's dark hair, but he didn't see it. He headed for the Slytherin's.

"Hey," he said as he moved toward the open bench beside Blaise.

"Sorry," said Blaise not looking up. "Spot taken."

"By who?"

"Bugger off," Blaise raised his angry eyes to Draco.

"I take it you heard."

"You're bloody barmy, Malfoy. Running with Theo Nott? We all thought you didn't want to follow in daddy's footsteps." Crabbe chimed in.

"You're all mad at me because I'm not in love with Hermione Granger?" Draco asked.

"You know what," Goyle stood up, getting into Draco's face. "One, you are in love with her. Two, she deserves much better than you. And three, you better get out of here before you're really sorry."

Draco rolled his eyes and moved further down the table. He realized people were avoiding his gaze, but the people who's eyes he did meet looked very angry. Finally he reached who he was looking for.

"Pansy," he said quietly.

"What?"

"Can I sit down?"

"Nope."

Draco slowly realized what the days ahead could hold.

He marched toward his dorm room, dodging various hexes and nasty looks. As he neared them, he realized that two people were sitting right outside the portrait. Two people with very red hair, and very unfriendly looks.

"Get lost." Ginny said, not glancing up.

"I just want my stuff," Draco tried to move past them.

"It's outside."

"What's it doing out there!"

"I believe Hermione threw it out the window." Ron answered.

"No, that was me," Ginny said, blushing.

The portrait eased open behind them, Hermione crawled out. She gave Ginny and Ron looks of confusion, then spotted Draco.

"Hermione," he began.

"Malfoy," she answered with loathing.

"It's Draco, you know."

"No, you made it very clear what your name was," Hermione answered. "You guys, I really don't need a guard. He can't hurt me."

She heaved her bag up on her shoulder and started toward the library. Draco followed her and took a seat across from her, never once trying to speak. He calculated her distant expression. The way she brushed her fringe back, only to have it fall back into place. How she held her quill, or how she bit the side of her lip while she thought. She'd glance up at him every once in a while. Waiting for him to speak, but he never did. Soon, the sun was sinking into the horizon.

Hermione watched him watching her. How his eyes roamed her face, never once straying. How he looked almost apprehensive when they made eye contact. The way the golden rays made him glow. Finally, he broke the silence.

"You know, you aren't nearly as mad at me as you should be."

"Hmm," was her distant reply.

"You should hate me. You should curse me. You should get your friends to beat me up. I'd let them you know. I'd let you curse me too, I'd let your friends beat me till I can't bleed anymore. I'd let you hate me, if it'd prove how much I love you."

"Oh," she said absentmindedly.

He was ranting again, more to himself than her now.

"I understand why I made the bet with Nott. I wanted you to want me, Granger. So I made us become friends. I was nice, I know you think it was an act, but it wasn't. See, I thought I had it all planned out. I thought I had you right where I wanted you, but I think it was you who had me the whole time.

"When I took that unicorn hair…all I could think about was you. The Weasley's said it makes you pure right? Pure thoughts and all I could think about was you."

Hermione shut her book, packed up her things and began walking back toward her room.

"I wanted you to be mine since the first time I saw you on the train. But I had to pretend to hate you. I'm sorry, Hermione, for everything I ever said to you."

He followed her up to the portrait. He didn't wait for replies, because he didn't expect any.

"I was a prat. I guess we all are when we want something so badly. Ends of the earth, that's where I'd go for you. I see that now. I didn't think everyone would hate me for what I did. But they do…everyone hates me. And that's okay. But Hermione, if there's anything I can do…to make this okay…just tell me."

"Draco," she finally spoke from just inside the portrait. "You can get lost." And she slammed the door.