Wheee! I know… last time I said two days ;; but its been four months. I'm sooo sorry. Ever since school started, I've been super busy with homework and all that crap. (I'm in four honors classes! YIKES!) But since it's WINTER BREAK!111!one, I'm UPDATING! OOOO also, make sure to check the announcement at the bottom of the page.. It's VERY important (I won't say it now in case you guys forget)

Chapter 8- Misconceptions and Doubts

The next morning was airy and bright, a noticeable (and frustrating) contrast to a certain Slytherin's predominant mood. Noting the radiant sunshine bursting from the Great Hall's ceiling, Draco Malfoy groaned. Another fantastically abysmal day.

Earlier that morning, before (he had made sure) Granger had woken up, he had called a Slytherin assembly and spread the situation. No one, he had said, was allowed to harm or insult the mud… no… ex-mudblood. Understandably, quite a few people were confused and upset over this, including Pansy, but Draco was Draco and rules were rules. (He liked to think that as King of Slytherin, his word was law, and now that Granger was temporarily- he shuddered- the Queen of Slytherin, her word would soon be too) Thus, greetings were grudgingly aimed towards Granger (along with the use of her fearfully Gryffindor name) and no one-thankfully-questioned her presence.

Suddenly, a spasm of whispers broke out across the hall. Granger had entered timidly, her coffee eyes wandering around the hall. Draco rolled his eyes. Apparently no one had told her where she would be sitting.

From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Potty getting up to call her over. Warning… WARNING! His brain screamed. Keep the facade! Forcing a smile onto his face, he rushed towards Granger, and grabbing her by the arm, steered her to Slytherin table.

This was, admittedly, the only thing he could have done. Ignoring Potty and Weasel's brutal glares, he plopped Granger down next to him and started piling things on her plate.

What are you doing? His brain asked. You were just supposed to get her over here, not become her nanny too. Widening his eyes at his own actions, Draco snapped back to reality and shoved the plate towards Granger. Eat. Act Natural. Do SOMETHING! His brain screamed. Draco grabbed the first thing he saw: a gigantic slice of omelet, and crammed it into his mouth. So Weasel-like, his mind taunted snidely. He mentally slapped himself. What was he doing, receiving abuse from a particularly disobedient conscience?

Granger must have noticed the mental abuse Draco was receiving from himself, because she reached over and tapped him on the head. "What's wrong?" She asked.

Draco swung around and found himself staring into a pair of auburn eyes, widened with worry. What the… he thought, before realizing that she didn't know that she hated him. He forced his rebelling conscience to radiate contentment, and Granger's relief pulsated over him like the horrible sunshine, something unusual and alien. Shaking his head to rid himself of the nauseating sensation, Draco returned to his food.

Unbeknownst to him, Pansy sat nearby, her jealous eyes taking in what seemed to be a budding love. So, her shrewd (hey, who knew?) mind calculated.

Across the hall, Harry and Ginny and Ron spoke in livid whispers, their heads bowed together like Harry, Ron, and Hermione had some weeks earlier.

"Who gave him the right to boss her around like that?" Harry fumed.

"Dumbledore did, Harry." Ginny stated reasonably. She had heard the story last night when Harry and Ron had debated about Dumbledore's sanity.

"But look at them! Sitting together like that, all lovey dovey." Ron snapped. "Merlin, they could be plotting to burn down Hogwarts and all we would see is two kids sitting together, chatting."

The three of them turned to look at Malfoy and Hermione. Malfoy was attacking his food with unusual fervor, and Hermione was staring at him with, apparently, great concern.

"You and Hermione used to look like that," Ginny prodded Ron. "Except you were only interested in food and she just didn't want you choking before you successfully conjured a stretcher."

Ron flushed crimson. "You seem to be happy about these arrangements."

Ginny shrugged. "I don't want Hermione to embrace the 'dark side' but I think its good for her to be exposed to Malfoy in his full evil. Besides, if you guys can't eat it, we could always win her back."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Ginny, you're a genius! That's exactly what we have to do: make her remember us!"

Ron's expression clouded over as an unusually thoughtful look took over his face. "That's not a bad idea." He said slowly.

"Great. So it's settled, then. We're getting Hermione back." Ginny stated cheerfully, then climbed off the bench. She waved as she exited the hall, her mind clearly already devising. After a few sullen glances towards the Slytherin table, Ron followed with a "see you in Potions, Harry. I'm going to go pack up."

Leaving Harry Potter sitting there alone, glaring thoughtfully (yes, he can do that) at a certain 'pair' of Slytherins. "We're going to win her back," he reiterated, then whispered, "no matter what the cost."

Nobody had informed Snape of the conditions. Nasty and condescending as always, he slammed Granger over and over again, calling her an "overachieving prat" and "wannabe know-it-all with absolutely no true talent."

Draco groaned inwardly as he felt her crushed spirit jabbing into his conscience. Over and over, he tried to whisper, to warn Snape of the predilection, but being the abusive teacher he was, Snape was naturally too absorbed in taunting the "mudblood" to notice Draco's glares.

The abuse was getting to her, Draco could feel it. She messed up constantly, whether her amnesia had affected her text-book memory stocks or whether from nervousness, Draco couldn't tell. This only increased Snape's glee, as he slid smooth circles around Granger's desk, harassing her about every mistake.

By the end of the class, Granger had broken out in tears and raced from the class, chased by yells of "fifty points from Gryffindor!" Draco cringed. However, since she had already gone, he could do nothing but try and get Snape to understand.

When the bell rang, the class leaked out happily, but one blonde remained bent over his cauldron. Glancing up occasionally from the corners of his eyes, he determined not to lift his head until the Potions Master himself came over and asked him what his problem was.

"Mr. Malfoy. You must have something better to do than studying the interior of your cauldron so intimately." Snape glided over to Draco's desk.

"Professor, why did you pick on Granger like that today?"

Snape scoffed. "Normally I would have thought you would have been happy that she received such a thrashing."

Draco's head snapped up, his eyes full of seething anger. "You're going to ruin it all," he nearly screamed."

Snape's eyebrow quirked. "All what? I don't suppose you've been… lusting after the mudblood have you?"

Draco's hand darted forward and snagged the collar of Snape's robes. "I don't care if you're a Professor, but you're not calling her a mudblood. She's a fucking half-dragon, and she's in fucking Slytherin. So act like you like her and leave everything to me."

Snape stiffened. "Get your fingers off my robe, Mr. Malfoy, and please do not use such despicable language in my presence. Another word from you and you'll get detention for a month. Now, out."

Wrenching his fingers free, Draco stalked out of the room. He knew his "father-son" relationship with Snape wasn't exactly the healthiest of father-son relationships, but Snape would come around.

He had to.

Back in the Slytherin Common Room, Hermione Granger was sitting in front of a fire in a slightly lumpy armchair, tears dribbling down her cheeks.

"Why?" She whispered, watching the fire crackle, willing the golden prongs of the flame to be burnt into her mind, "why me? Out of the whole class, just me?" Her fingers toyed with a frayed tassel drooping from the throw that was crushed under her slender frame. I thought he was the Slytherin Head. Isn't he supposed to favor me, like he fawns upon Draco?

She frowned. Unwillingly, she saw the scene play back in her head, heard the scream of "Fifty points from Slytherin!" She frowned again.

Why the hell would Snape take points from his own house? She frantically tried to replay the memory in her mind, but to no avail.

Sometimes, when a person tries to remember something and puts all of her energy into trying to recall a specific detail about a dream, a thought, an event, the fine lines fade like aging pictures. The memory blurs like tear-obscured vision, and gradually slip away from outstretched arms.

Hermione pounded her own mind. She remembered Snape yelling "Slytherin," but whether that was a fragment of her imagination or reality confused by constant lapses of memory, she couldn't tell. The words melted together, and although she was pretty sure that Snape had said "Slytherin," her doubt was seeded and sprouted.

Shrugging, she snuggled deeper into the velvet throw, wondering why it mattered so much whether Snape had said "Slytherin" or "Gryffindor." She convinced herself that he had said Gryffindor; the punishment hadn't necessarily been directed at her. After all, Slytherins had potions with Gryffindor, and Snape could have just been yelling at Harry Potter again.

Harry Potter. Hermione's eyes filled with tears. Why did that name fill her with so much longing, so much remorse? It made no sense to her whatsoever, that a guy she supposedly hated would have such a… nostalgic effect on her.

Her eyes were cemented to the hissing fire, its warmth holding her like a newborn child. The dungeons were cold, so very cold, but the fire calmed her and made the stone walls look less unfriendly, the slimy moss less unappealing. The fire brought her images of friends, laughing at antics pulled during lessons, of shameless flirting, of Gobstones and Wizards Chess and homework reviews.

Hermione Granger shook her head. What the hell was going on? Those images had nothing to do with her.

Glancing sadly at the hostile room around her, she closed her eyes and sank into the lumps of the armchair, relishing the last embers of the dying flame.

The images had nothing to do with her, and they never would.

OMG THAT TOOK SO LONGGGG! Haha okay. Since I'm so busy with school now, I can probably only update once a month tops. So don't be disappointed if I don't update for like two or three months even.

Well hope you liked it and remember,

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IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: I'm thinking of stopping all my other series until I'm done with this one. I have a lot of unposted stuff I'm dying to post, but I think I shall put it off till I finish this series, you know, just as extra motivation to keep writing. Of course, you guys are my main motivation reviewing does help xD .

X3, ME