AN: I don't know how many loyal fans i have out there but sorry for the long wait. I know my chapters are pretty short as well but they're slowly getting longer. I'll try to update as quickly as possible. Keep reading and REVIEWING. It really helps me when I know what the readers thinks.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. all that jazz... and love to JK Rowling.

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September had come and gone and before I knew it, we were well into the month of October. As a first year, any magic that we were depended upon to learn was little more than the basics. Kid stuff. I excelled... much like I had at school back home. Granted, my study habits were far more superior to most people: years of practice can do that to you. I quickly found that many of my peers were somewhat dull . . . and a bit on the slow side. Sometimes, I play nice and excuse the muggle-born ones–like myself–for their lack of skill due to their late birth into the wizarding world. Like I said, however, I was only playing nice because I did splendidly. And where did I come from? The MUGGLE world. Half-bloods had it a little harder. I mean coming from families with only one magical parent; wouldn't a constant display of magic be horrific to the non-magical party? At least they try. You can't blame them all. Harry Potter is a half-blood . . . and he is supremely talented. I spend half my time watching him during classes. Taking notes, it may seem, is the best way to disguise spying on someone. Most of the time, I sit behind Harry and stare at the chalkboard. Don't get me wrong here. I DO take notes . . . just mental ones about Harry as well. There are so many aspects about Harry that I wish I could get to know. He may not be as book smart as I am but he definitely has a natural talent for things. A little bit more concentration and he'll make a fine wizard. I mean, he did defeat you know who and all. The question is, how? Every time I look at him, the curiosity swells to the breaking point. I offered him some pointers . . . but his annoying friend always gets him to shrug it off. What's it to me if he waves his wand incorrectly. Stupid pureblooded git. He's barely a notch higher than the talent less Neville . . . and THAT is saying something. There is no absolute excuse for ANY pureblooded witch or wizard to be so daft when it comes to magic. They have been exposed to it all their lives. It honestly just baffles me. I guess talent plays a bigger role than I imagined.

There is, on the other hand, Draco Malfoy. Prideful little prat if I must say so myself. Then again, he has much to be proud of. If my guesses are correct, he is second in the class, considering there's no way he could be first with me around. So he's intelligent . . . well dressed . . . rich . . . popular (amongst the Slytherins to say the least) . . . but most of all, he's my friend. We never talk much, being in different houses and all, but we often exchange notes via owl. The first note was a threat. Can you believe that? He threatened me!

The only way you'll ever be happy is to know your place. Malfoy's don't bow to anyone.

And of course, I wrote back.

Of course they don't. They grovel at my feet.

He wasn't very pleased with my response. More notes came, and I always responded. Eventually, we gave up on the childish banter and got to writing short letters. Some of them were boring–discussing Snape's newest assignment–while others served as welcome entertainment. Apparently, none of my house mates took much of a liking toward bossy, know it all Granger, so what was the use of hanging around them? With Draco's letters, my first month at Hogwarts passed quickly. Classes took up a large portion of my day, as well as homework, and a bit of extra reading here and there. My spare time, I devoted to writing.

I got a perfect on McGonagall's paper . . . but I'm guessing you already knew that. Everyone probably knows. How did you do? Soooo... when are you going to teach me how to play quidditch? You've been going on and on about it that I'm starting to believe it might actually be fun. It sounds a lot like soccer to me, but on broomsticks? I have a fear of heights you know. You handled your broom very well today. I didn't think Harry would be able to catch the Remembrall, but he is Harry Potter. Which reminds me . . . about this duel . . . what if you get caught? You're just going to get both of our houses in trouble. And if you get hurt you're going to spend the whole weekend in the hospital wing. How are you going to help me then? Anyway, let me know if you'll meet me. I should start on my homework. Don't start! I know you're going to say it's not due until next week, but I might as well get it out of the way . . . especially if I want to make time for quidditch lessons.

HG – Dragon Slayer

Walking back from the owlery, I spotted Draco with a few other Slytherins. As I passed, he smirked at me. I loved it when he smirked . . . at least at me. He never smiled, but I had begun to read his expressions as of late. There was the I am better than you smirk, which is what he usually had plastered on his face . . . but there was also his I know what you're up to smirk. The one he always gave me. Really, there was no logical way he could know I was coming back from the owlery, but then again, he is Draco Malfoy. I just smirked in response and made my way to the Gryffindor common room, but not before noticing that he detached himself from his fans and headed in the opposite direction. His letter came sooner than I had expected.

Will you STOP signing your letters with Dragon Slayer? We ALL know that there is a SLIGHT possibility that you may be smarter than me, but that in no way translates as my defeat by your hands. I got 89 on McGonagall's paper. Apparently, the unimportance of turning a match into a needle was more prominent in my writing than its actual importance. When am I EVER going to need to do that? Wasting my only chance at warmth to what? Stab someone to death with a needle? Sew some leaves together? And what is all this hype about HARRY POTTER? I mean sure . . . he's famous and everything but he seems very average to me. I see the way you stare at him in potions. My father says he's the "boy-who-would-not-die." I think he's right. If he's so high and mighty, have HIM teach you quidditch. Maybe then, he'll fall off his broom as I had wanted. That's as much as you can hope for where I'm concerned. About the duel, it's all sorted out. I always win. By the way . . . your flying sucks . . . I think teaching you quidditch will be disastrous to my health.

DM – Lion Tamer

In a way, I owe it all to Draco. If it hadn't been for his stupid duel, I would never have met that three-headed monster. My true intentions were to make sure nothing serious happened to Draco during the duel, but who knew that he was only setting Harry and Ron up to get caught? Granted I was dreadfully scared for my life when I saw that bloody dog, but I guess you can say it was the stepping stone toward my future with Harry and Ron. And Neville . . . considering he had followed us. We ran so hard. I was surprised that we didn't wake anyone what with all the noise we were making. And oh was I seething. Yes, I was still alive, but if it weren't for Draco and his STUPID plan, I wouldn't have been lurking in forbidden corridors with my head about to be chewed off. What if I had died? What if I had gotten caught? Breaking rules was one thing, but being expelled from the world of magic was another. I had finally found where I truly belonged and I had almost been brutally snuffed from it because of a few boys' immaturity. Boy was Draco going to get an earful.

The rest of the month passed without much commotion. I was no longer talking to Harry and Ron, which Draco delightfully told me was a good choice. I was still peeved about the whole three-headed dog situation, but there was really nothing I could do about it. It wasn't Draco's fault that I had wanted to check up on him. He HAD told me that he would win . . . and in a way, he did. We tried to meet occasionally in the library and talk when no one was looking, but Gryffindor and Slytherin rivalry was not something to be taken lightly. In the end, we simply resorted back to writing letters. It was odd, our relationship, but it was all I had.

I have a few questions about the potion we're brewing for Snape. Think you could lend a hand? I know it'll be Halloween weekend and you'll be busy playing pranks on unsuspecting Hufflepuffs, but if you'd meet me in one of the empty classrooms in the dungeons for a bit, that would be great. That is, if you can get your two goonies to stop following you. Haha. Why do you even hang around with them? They can't be very entertaining. At least from my perspective . . .

Dragon Slayer

He responded shortly with a See you in the dungeons. I was ecstatic. Despite everything, I had started to feel lonely and outcast. Sure, there was Draco, but with each passing day, I couldn't help but notice that all I had to show for it were a couple of letters. Draco had his Slytherins . . . I had no one.

I couldn't wait for Halloween weekend. It would be my first time doing something with another student outside of class work. It wasn't much of a secret. Hermione Granger had no friends. Or at least, that's what everyone thought! Still, it hurt when others taunted me about this minor fact. I was still human . . . and even the smartest twelve-year old can't help but cry when someone stabs you where you're weakest.

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All I can really say is that trolls are ugly, smelly, vile creatures and I NEVER want to see one again. Stupid gits for making me cry. If it weren't for them, I'd never have been in the bathroom to begin with. At least I made more friends. We knocked out a troll, for heavens sake. If that doesn't bring you closer, what does?

The following morning, I sat with Harry and Ron in the great hall. It was nice, having someone to talk to over breakfast. A couple of times, I caught Draco glaring in my direction... but then again, he always glares at Harry. Ron was actually quite funny when you got to know him. His table manners needed obvious improvement, but all aside, he was enjoyable company. Like Draco, these two were OBSESSED with quidditch. I was listening to the boys talk but their voices were hard to hear with the arrival of owl post. Glancing at the Slytherin table, I saw the owl I had picked earlier deliver my note to Malfoy.

Meet me after dinner.

I still needed help with my potions assignment. Besides, I wanted to tell him about my adventures with the troll. Surely I could have written it to him in a letter, but for once, I wanted to see his expressions as I told him something. Outside of our writing, he was a mask of indifference. Aside from the smirking that is.

I spent the rest of my day lounging by the lake with Harry and Ron. They were prodding the giant squids tentacles with a long branch. I half hoped that it would drag one of the boys into the water so I could laugh at one of them. They retreated to the sanctuary of my tree when both boys tired of the squid.

"So what do you think of Malfoy?" I asked.

"Bloody spoiled git if you ask me." Ron replied. "Whole family is horrid. They think that just because they're rich, they own the world. His father's a supporter of you know who. That's what my dad says anyway."

"I don't like him." Harry raised a hand to ruffle up his hair. "I mean what did I ever do to him? He's so unpleasant he can't really have expected me to be his friend."

I was taken aback. Here were my friends, vocally bashing on Draco, the only person who had befriended me before them.

"He can't be that bad. I mean what do you two REALLY know about him?"

Ron stared at me, open-mouthed. "Just wait until he finds something about you he doesn't like and you'll see." He groaned. "Malfoy's the worst. Trust me."

I definitely had my doubts. Everyone knew that Malfoy didn't get along with many people. He was just misunderstood. No one had taken the time to get to know him like I had. Draco was different... he had saved me when times had been rough. I simply couldn't see the side Harry and Ron were describing. I made a mental note to ask him about it later that night.

After dinner, I made my way to the dungeons. When I had left the great hall, Draco had still been dining. I strolled around the empty classroom, using a simple scourgify to clean the dusty room up a bit. Draco was allergic to dust, never having been exposed to large quantities at a time. He had once told me that his manor was impeccably clean. I didn't doubt it. More time passed and I busied myself with some potions notes. I had more or less worked out what I needed to do for the assignment, but having Draco's help would clarify anything else I was confused about. Two hours later still did not bring Draco. I assumed that he had forgotten, making my way to the owlery to deliver another letter.

Hey, I waited for you! Two hours! I can't believe you forgot. Meet me tomorrow morning before breakfast, same place.

D. Slayer

I sent the owl to him, hoping I'd get a response before I went to bed. Upon reaching my dormitory, I noticed a folded slip of parchment on my bedcovers. I picked it up and immediately recognized Draco's "artistically slanted" scrawl. At least that's what he called it. Crawling into bed, I pulled the hangings shut and tore open the wax seal.

I knew you would sink down to your level eventually. I suppose hanging with the lowly weasel is in your blood after all. I had high hopes for you, you know? Actually started thinking that you understood me, that you'd see me for who I am. I thought that you could become so much more than your blood was worth... but associating with Potter? I'll admit that sometimes, I forgot that you weren't pureblood... the way you held yourself, your immense talent, and impeccable taste (i.e ME). Did you HONESTLY think that I, Draco Malfoy, would befriend the boy who would not die and his insufferable sidekick? Don't deny it... I know that's what was running through your ugly, bushy haired head. But this is where we draw the line. I made my mistakes in seeing you for what you'll never be... and you... you made the mistake of not knowing your place.

Hermione Granger, filthy muggle born witch. Don't write. I won't respond. If it's any consolation... I'll always remember you. Hermione Granger: Slayer of Dragons.

DM

waiting will only cost you a lifetime...

The next morning, I made my way down towards the dungeons and into the empty classroom. It was Sunday. No student in his right mind would be indoors... I sat... missed breakfast... missed lunch... and when dinner rolled around, I knew he would never come. Defeated, I trudged my way up to the great hall and sat myself between Harry and Ron.

"Where have you been?" Ron asked, a mouthful of potatoes.

"Library... you know me..." I lied, sheepishly. Both boys shook their heads. I couldn't concentrate on my food so I tried to join in on the conversation. They were talking about quidditch... and suddenly I was no longer interested. It reminded me of him... I looked up across the sea of heads and I could see him talking to one of his house mates. It only took a moment, but his eyes slowly made their way to my face. He held my gaze and smirked and in an instant I knew what he was trying to say: I'm better than you.