It had worked so perfectly.

Hermione stretched upwards, trying to release the stiffness in her muscles, bought on by being hunched over her desk for the last three hours.

She sat back in her chair, heaving a sigh as she looked at the mountains of homework in front of her.

Two piles lay on the desk, finished and unfinished, all ordered in their varying states of urgency.

She scrubbed at her eyes and then shot up straight as she remembered the morning.

With all the hubbub created by Draco Malfoy (or, to be more honest, Hermione Granger), she had clean forgotten the all important book.

She stared for an unseeing moment at her homework and then decided that, as she had done rather well that night already, and was at least a month ahead, she deserved at least a few hours to herself.

Walking to the bed as calmly as was possible in her excited state, she leaned down and rummaged under the mattress for the book, reaching it finally after an increasingly frenzied search that seemed to last hours, but was really all of two minutes.

She breathed in the scent of leather and then stood from her crouched position on the floor and sat on the bed.

She stared at the cover for a good five minutes, trying to take in the enormity of her find.

Silver embossed lettering ran along the top of the book, clearly stating; 'Journal'.

Hermione opened it with a sigh of air that she hadn't been aware she was holding in and stared at the first page.

'Draco Malfoy' it stated in a neat script that could only be his.

Underneath these words was the year, and the words 'For your wishes and dreams, your passions and desires, your secrets and your thoughts. Always loving you, Narcissa and Lucius.'

Hermione's breath caught in her throat at the unexpected sentiment.

How could it be that those…those terrible people…

She pushed her hair out of her face and sighed.

He was their son after all, she reminded herself.

And it wasn't as though she had ever heard of any violence towards him.

They had always seemed very loving…well. As loving as they could be thought of, at least. She pushed the thoughts from her mind and opened to the first entry.

1st January

Another day, another year. Wonderful. I so look forward to the rest of what is sure to be another record-breakingly boring year. Pansy arrives tomorrow. Give me strength.

2nd January

What an awful day. I always manage to forget just how boring Pansy is. Oh, she isn't so bad in her own way, and she can be nice, I suppose, but she is so very dull. Honestly, it's enough to give one a sudden need to stay in the bathroom all day. Which, incidentally, I did.

3rd January

Father came home today. He bought mother a necklace and myself a new set of robes (dark blue, surprisingly. He hardly ever varies from the norm of black, black, and more black.) as well as that book I have been lusting after for some time; Critical Theory Since Plato. I know it seems surprising, but contrary to popular belief, I am actually in possession of a brain, and as Father wasn't entirely aware (read; entirely without knowledge) of the muggle-ism of this particular author (he doesn't read an awful lot, which has always surprised me somewhat) it was no big deal for him to get me the book.

We had a rather interesting conversation about espionage in history (the Scarlet Pimpernel has always fascinated me, although I have never been entirely certain if he were fictitious or no) and the role spies played in war. For a while I had thought there was a possibility some kind of job was to be offered to me, but I think he has lost faith in me since my less than perfect attempts in the years before. Anyhow, it doesn't particularly matter, as I have decided to keep myself out of those dealings as much as possible. I would prefer a peaceful (if boring) year to one where I am constantly risking my life, let alone the lives of others. No one knows this, of course, but I think I would find it extremely difficult to kill someone. The very idea of deciding when a person's life should end seems rather like playing as Nature itself. Which is wrong in every conceivable way.

I doubt Father will be agreeable when I get around to telling him of my decision, but I also doubt he will be too hard on me. I am, after all, his son and the only pure heir (which counts as everything in this family, obviously) to the Malfoy name.

Father isn't cruel, in any case.

I am not entirely certain where anyone got this absurd idea, but there you have it.

He has never beaten my mother or I, and he hardly ever yells, unless he is under particular stress.

I have always wondered why anyone thought so; I mean to say, Father has never really made any particular effort to be pleasant to people he doesn't like, but he has never given anyone any reason to believe he hurts his loved ones.

It's difficult to remember the last time he ever hit me.

The only thought that comes to mind is when I was four and Father caught me showing one of the muggle children from the neighbouring village our garden.

Father told me calmly that the child was dirty and had taken her back to her parents.

He was not unkind.

He would not kill a muggle child merely for playing with his only son.

But after the child was gone he had smacked me on the cheek and told me quite firmly never to play with people below myself again.

Ah, that lesson learnt from childhood.

All people are equal. Some people are more equal than others.

But I love my father, always have.

Our relationship has, however, become a little more strained in the past few years, since the Dark Lord has returned and Father had been expected to give up his job, his family, in total supplication to the lord to forgive him for not having sought him out.

But the yelling is fine. I can deal with it.

Mother told me today that I was to…

Hermione's head snapped upwards as the sound of feet approached her door.

A loud knock began steadily and then rose in tempo and volume.

"Open up, Granger!"

Hermione went an interesting shade of purple as she heard his voice.

She stuffed the journal under the mattress and dived for the door, trying to lock it before he could…too late.

He stood in the doorway, at least a head taller than her, glowering fiercely, even his blonde hair appearing to crackle with rage.

"Granger. We need to talk."

Hermione gulped.

Ah, not the kind of thing she wanted right now, to be stuck in the same room as him, alone no less.

She made a move for the door but he grabbed her arm and forced her into a seat, his eyes narrowing perceptibly.

She shifted nervously in her seat and waited for him to say something.

He sat on the edge of her bed, sneering as he looked around her room, which, Hermione had to admit, was embarrassingly bare.

She blushed scarlet when he looked pointedly at a bra on the floor and rushed to pick it up.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked, her face still crimson.

Draco grimaced.

"Granger. I…" he steepled his fingers and looked upwards as though thinking.

"Yes?" she asked, impatience overpowering nerves.

"That thing that happened this morning. I have you to thank for that, don't I?"

Hermione looked anywhere but at him.

"You can't prove it." she said in a small voice, while wondering if he, perhaps, could. She hoped she wouldn't be expelled.

"It doesn't matter whether I can prove it or not Granger. I know you did it. It was a rotten thing to do, you know that?"

Hermione felt extremely small and worthless.

"Yes." She said in a mouse voice.

"I have to admit, it was inspired."

Hermione looked up at him in surprise. He was grinning. Why was he grinning?

"Why are you grinning?"

He looked away for a second, and then cleared his throat, his expression becoming hard again.

"I wasn't."

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. You were."

Draco looked as though he were about to say something extremely childish but stopped himself just in time.

"It doesn't matter. Anyhow, I just wanted to say 'stop it', because otherwise you will regret it."

He tried to look suitably evil, but Hermione couldn't quite see it after reading the few entries of his journal.

She smiled.

"Alright then. Out you go."

He looked rather bewildered at this sudden and unexpected dismissal and Hermione's smile widened.

"What? You're done intimidating me, aren't you? So go on, get out of my room."

Draco looked extremely confused as he was shepherded out of the door and stood in the hallway for a good five minutes, trying to collect his thoughts.

Hermione sat down on the bed and waited for him to leave before rummaging around under the mattress again. As she flipped to the appropriate page, the door was flung open and an enraged Draco Malfoy stood looking down at her.

As she had had time enough to stuff the journal underneath her pillow, she was able to look at him quite innocently (although her heart was pounding treacherously) and say; "I thought you were finished? Why on Earth do you look so tense? Oh…" she grinned.

"Is it that time of the month?"

Draco obviously seemed not to be joining in her mirth and simply seethed quietly in the doorway.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well, are you going to come in or go out? Pick one, preferably out, and remember to close the door behind you. It's really rather cold."

Draco slammed the door behind him and advanced on her.

She squeaked as she realised he was really quite mad, and dragged herself backwards on the bed, as far away from him as possible.

She was so focussed upon his angry face that she completely misjudged how far across the bed was and went flying off the edge, her ankles around her head and her skirt covering her face.

"Ow." She muttered as she climbed to her feet.

Draco's lips were twitching in spite of himself.

Hermione stamped her foot without even realising it, which made Draco's lips do a rather amusing dance across his face as he tried not to laugh.

"Are you done? You've intimidated me enough now, haven't you? I've rather hurt my neck, you awful excuse for a man! Charming my arse."

Draco rolled his eyes and held a hand out for her and she climbed across the bed again, using his hand as a banister of sorts. It was rather strange, she thought, having him help her. Across the bed no less. He seemed to have the same thought and grinned at her.

"Now." She said as she stood in front of him and tried to look suitably fearless and unhurt, although she really felt rather like crying, "Why did you make me hurt myself? It's not exactly the chivalrous thing to do, is it? You've never actually hurt me before." Her eyes widened at that thought.

"Actually, you never have hurt me before. Physically at least. Isn't that peculiar."

"You're a girl." He drawled. "I don't hit girls. I was bought up alittle better than that."

Hermione smirked. "My, isn't that sweet."

Draco's eyes narrowed.

"I could reconsider that, though. You are particularly aggravating."

Hermione smirked.

"Right. Now, what did you come barging in for?"

Draco's frightening look began to reappear and Hermione wished rather fervently that she hadn't said anything.

"You stole my journal." He said in a fierce undertone.

Hermione tried to look innocent.

"Now why would I do such a thing as that…?"

Draco growled and Hermione squeaked.

She seemed to be squeaking rather a lot this evening. Where was the brave Gryffindor she knew? Quite probably hiding underneath the couch with the mouse.

Stupid bravery.

"You'd do such a thing as that because you're a girl and you have no sense of privacy and also because, oh yes, you hate me!"

Hermione pretended to be shocked.

"Well now, isn't that the most sexist remark I have heard all day?"

Draco began advancing on her again and she backed up before her knees hit the bed and she sat down heavily.

Draco grabbed her shoulders and glared at her.

"How much did you read?"

"I don't even…"

His grip tightened and she looked up at him, slightly frightened.

His glare was really not at all nice, and she was beginning to doubt he'd hold up his end of the 'not hurting girls' deal unless she did something quickly.

"Where. Is it." he asked through gritted teeth.

His face was so close to hers that she was going slightly cross eyed trying to keep him in focus.

"I…I…"

"Granger. I'm warning you."

"I…I…you're hurting me, Malfoy!"

His grip loosened somewhat, but he was still glaring at her.

"Granger, tell me where it is, or I swear, I'll…"

Hermione did the first thing she could think of, which was a highly stupid thing to do, looking back on it later.

She leant up and kissed him.

It wasn't anything like what that first kiss between two people should be like, thought Hermione.

It wasn't slightly nervous, or even in the least bit sloppy.

It wasn't anything like Viktor, and it wasn't anything like Ron.

It was perfect, and sweet, and warm and right and…wrong! This was Draco Malfoy!

But what was he doing? Kissing her back? Extraordinary!

Hermione pulled away slowly, biting her lip as she watched him, watching her.

"What was that?"

Draco was looking rather awestruck and kept licking his lower lip in little flicks of his tongue.

Hermione eyed it for a moment and then looked at him sheepishly.

"Erm…diversionary tactics?"

Draco smiled a little and then said "you are quite honestly the strangest girl I know."

Hermione frowned. "Thanks. I'll take that as the compliment I'm sure it was meant to be."

"Right." Said Draco, looking at her with one eye closed.

"Erm. What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Hey! Hey, you still have my journal! You are good, woman, but not good enough for me!"

He grabbed her shoulders again.

"Now, don't you try any of that kissing business again. I'm too sharp. Where's the journal?"

Hermione sighed, trying to take in the strangeness of the situation.

She had just kissed Draco Malfoy! Of her own free will! She was quite obviously going insane.

"Granger?Hello! Granger?"

She shook herself and looked at him.

"What?"

"Where. Is. The. Journal?" he asked in a voice that sounded rather as though he were talking to a small child.

Hermione sighed. "Under my pillow." She muttered, trying not to look too defeated.

He reached over her and searched underneath the pillow before coming up with the book in hand. His eyes narrowed again.

"Granger. Look. This is important. How much did you read?"

Hermione looked disgruntled.

"Oh, what? The fate of the universe hanging in the balance? You do value yourself rather highly, you know."

"How. Much. Did. You. Read?"

"Temper, temper, young Malfoy. Not much. Not past last week, at least."

She smirked as he looked as though he were about to cry.

Serve him right. Bastard. Kissing her back. Manhandling her. Scaring her out of her wits, so that she would kiss him.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Honestly?"

Hermione sighed and let her neck fall back.

She was sotired.

"No Malfoy. I only read three entries. The first three."

Why was she telling him the truth? Why?

Draco looked pained.

"Thank you for telling the truth. I shall now have to kill you."

"What about that 'not hurting girls' policy? What happened to that policy? I quite liked it."

Draco closed his eyes and stood up.

"If you ever mention to anybody that we kissed, I will personally rip out your heart, policy be damned."

He pointed a finger at her as if to accuse her of something else, and then let it drop.

"Diversionary tactics, my arse." he said, and stalked out of the room.

XXX

"You have to admit, he is gorgeous." Ginny pointed out as they climbed, panting, up the stairs to their morning class.

Hermione looked over at Draco, a few metres ahead of them, not a hair out of place, talking amiably to Goyle.

Memories of the night before assaulted her and she fought off a sigh, instead screwing her face up in disgust.

"I have no need, nor desire to do any such thing. He is entirely too pointy. And remember at the Yule Ball?" she cast around for the exact phrase Harry had used to describe him.

"He looked like a…like a vicar with a stick up his bum! Ooh!"

The last exclamation was unintentional. As she had been so firmly focussed upon the boy in question, she hadn't paid much attention to the rather large staircase which she was climbing and had tripped on one of the stairs.

Draco looked back at the sound and grinned when he saw her on the floor, then turned around and walked out of sight.

Hermione let out an angry "oh!" and climbed to her feet, only to be met by a smirking Ginny.

"What?" Hermione asked, wincing as she heard the petulant tone in her own voice.

"What?" she asked again, careful to remain calm.

Ginny grinned again.

"You where so busy looking at his arse that you didn't see the…the stairs!"

She hooted with laughter while Hermione glared and came to the conclusion that she was best friends with a completely insane person.

"Look," she began again, trying to keep her teeth from grinding too much, "it isn't so much that he isn't gorgeous…which he isn't!" she added hastily as Ginny began to choke on her own laughter.

"It's just that he's so…he's so…Draco Malfoy." She finished lamely.

Ginny sighed regretfully and nodded.

"I know. But…oh well. I'm still allowed to look, right?"

"No!" hissed Hermione, her cheeks flaming.

"Hermione, you need to give it a rest. For your own well being."

Hermione scrunched her nose up in misery.

"I can't. I just can't."

"Welltry, Hermione. It's not doing you any good. You're becoming obsessed. All you talk about is him. Which can be fun for a while, but…"

"Ooh! Who does she talk about?" asked an eager voice by Hermione's side. She jumped and then swung around, before suppressing a groan at who it was.

Lavender Brown. Ugh. Ghastly woman.

"Nobody." Hermione said in an undertone, glaring at Ginny, who had the nerve to grin.

Lavender looked disappointed at the lack of gossip forthcoming and made a hasty retreat.

"Seriously though." said Ginny as they rounded the corner. "He is the only thing you ever talk about nowadays."

Hermione grimaced.

"The words 'Draco Malfoy' will never pass my lips again, I swear. Honestly, he causes trouble without even trying. I can't even sleep for dreaming about him. And no, not like that, you dirty minded little girl." She added as Ginny smiled lewdly.

"Referring to him as 'he' doesn't make it any less obvious who you're talking about, you know." Ginny pointed out.

"Well, it's not as though I've been reduced to using a capital 'H' on the 'he' and 'him' yet."

"Yet?" asked Ginny with a grin to put Fred and George to shame.

Hermione hit her.

"Shut up. You are honestly more than anyone should ever have to bear."

"I wouldn't mind baring her." said a voice by Hermione's side.

She jumped.

"Why does everyone sneak up on me?" she cried, and then, seeing who it was, "Oh. It's you."

She did nothing to keep the disdain out of her voice when she said the last word.

Draco grinned.

"Yes. Aren't you pleased?"

"No." said Hermione harshly. Draco ignored her.

"Now you don't have to talk about me, you can just bask in my immeasurable glory!" Hermione scowled while Ginny tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress a giggle.

"I never talk about you, Malfoy." Hermione ground out, at the same time grinding her heel into Ginny's toes.

Ginny yelped.

Draco put on a surprised demeanour.

"Oh? Really?" he said, looking as though he highly doubted it.

Hermione glared at him.

"Well, I must have just imagined that bit about; 'you're'"

He pointed helpfully at Hermione, who glowered.

"That'syou, dearest one; 'you're becoming obsessed. All you ever do is talk about him.'"

Hermione shot an angry look at Ginny, who looked sheepish.

"How do you know we were talking about you? I could very well have been talking of any number of boys."

Draco raised his eyebrow delicately.

"I very much doubt that. Name them."

Hermione made a face at him, which he chose to ignore.

"Harry.Ron."

Her brow furrowed as she tried to think of someone else and managed a slight squeaking noise before repeating; "Harry, Ron…"

Draco tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"Uh. Huh. So what about 'Draco Malfoy shall never pass my lips again'?"

He grinned.

"I do so like that one. Had I not heard 'the words', that phrase could have been interpreted quite, quite differently."

Hermione blushed as he looked her over speculatively.

He wasn't good looking, she told herself firmly. He wasn't even remotely likeable.

He was hideously, terribly flawed, and…and twirling a lock of her hair around one finger.

HER HAIR. Around HIS FINGER.

"What in Heaven's name d'you think you're doing?" she screeched in what she thought was a particularly calm tone, given the circumstances.

He grinned and dropped her hair, letting his finger fall to her cheek, where it brushed softly over it and stopped at her lips.

She hissed in surprise and drew away sharply.

He looked…disappointed, which was wrong in every conceivable way.

But the emotion was gone in an instant, leaving Hermione to wonder if, perhaps, she may just have imagined it, which seemed more likely.

"You'll not touch me again, if you know what's good for you, Malfoy." Hermione bit out, and Ginny looked between them curiously as he sneered and said; "I'm not the one who started it."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh very mature. Blaming someone else. What are you going to do next? Steal someone's crayons?"

Draco made a face at her, which she returned in kind.

Switching personas alarmingly fast, he smiled charmingly and waved over his shoulder at them as he began to walk away.

"Well, goodbye ladies. Lovely chatting. We must make sure not to do it again. Bye now!"

Ginny and Hermione stared after him in shock as he strode off, then realised that they needed to get to class and ran off in opposite directions.

A/N: Oh my, I have taken a long time to update this, haven't I? Sorry! Not that anyone seemed to care TOO much (mutter mutter). Bah humbug. Oh well, I hope you liked it. It's my favourite chapter so far.
PLEASE REVIEW OR I SHALL HAVE TO EAT YOU. IT ONLY TAKES A MINUTE. HONESTLY PEOPLE, ARE YOU THAT BUSY? NO, DIDN'T THINK SO.
Thanks. Please listen to me. Reviews are the only reason I write fanfiction. It is my LIFEBLOOD. So stop killing me. Honestly. 27 reviews? I know how many people read these and don't review - on hpff, they've read it 2355 TIMES. They've reviewed 31. That's sad, man. Help me out here. Give me a sign. REVIEW. It's nothing for you, everything for me. And do every author the courtesy of reviewing, not just some (and not just me, but especially me :) because it really DOES make someone's day. Alright. Rant over. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.