I have been told to disclaim.

I am not JK Rowling, so do not have the pleasure of being able to call these characters or settings my own.

Carrying on...

"Malfoy." The voice was vaguely familiar, but Draco had trouble placing it. Pansy? No, it was nowhere near shrill enough. Then who –

He turned and was very surprised to see Hermione clambering gracefully up the stairs to catch up with him. Thank Merlin he was alone.

"Mind if I walk with you?" She asked, not meeting his eye. He could see that she was expecting him to say no. Expecting him to turn on her right when she'd opened herself up to him, just as he'd done before.

"Sure." He replied, and turned back to the stairs.

Hermione's mind raced with the question of what to say. She knew a "chat" was in order. There was no way she completely trusted Draco, and she was certainly going to let him know that, but she was giving him a chance, and felt he had the right to know.

She pushed him into an empty classroom at the top of the stairs and closed the door behind them. She swiftly strode to the front of the room, which was dimly lit by a single stuttering candle, stone walled and far too dark for a third floor room, and sat herself down on a desk in a "no-nonsense" manner, and indicated Draco do the same. He watched her face, bemusedly as he sat himself down, pleased he was not in a rush to be anywhere, he had a feeling this was going to be something of a stride in his quest to win his bet.

He watched as she took a great sigh, working herself up to saying whatever it was she needed to say.

"Draco." She began. He raised one eyebrow in surprise, Draco? "I don't know what you're playing at, but I really hope it's nothing because, for some insane reason I seem to have completely lost my mind and have convinced myself you're being civil to me because you want to turn over a new leaf." She gushed, still refusing to meet his eye.

Draco was not quite sure what to say. He could tell he was making her uncomfortable, not answering like this, but he was torn. Of course there was no chance he wanted to "turn over a new leaf" as she so naively put it, but, for some reason, a small part of his mind was battling for him to say yes, and mean it.

"It's good of you to have some faith in me. I think that's all I needed." The words tasted sour on his lips, and he could tell he'd gone too far. She looked skeptical as she pushed herself off the desk, and landed daintily on her toes.

"Well, good. Just… don't make me look stupid, ok?" She turned her back to him, and strode past out of the classroom.

"Crap." Draco moaned. What was the matter with him? This was supposed to ridiculously simple! Lie in whatever way was necessary to get Granger to fall in love with him, so why was it so painful?

"I must be tired." Draco muttered to himself. He closed his eyes. An image of Hermione stood in front of him, her uniform surely more revealing than it was in real life, flashed in front of his closed eyes. "I must be really tired."

It was true that it was late, and as Draco marched down the stairs to the Slytherin dungeon common room, he heard the clock strike ten. The common room itself was barely lit; the unusual fire that glowed green in the grate was dying, as only a few students remained there to keep it alive. Blaise was there though, and Draco considered going across to him, boasting about his success with Hermione, but it didn't feel right somehow, and he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead he walked straight past, and climbed the steep narrow steps to his dormitory.

His corner of the long, low ceiling room was the only area unblemished by posters of half naked witches, lounging seductively, and giggling and shifting uncomfortably in feigned embarrassment whenever somebody looked at them. It was cheap, in Draco's opinion. To cover ones walls with pictures of such kind was almost as good as casting a banner over ones head reading, "I'm not getting any!"

He smirked at his chain of thoughts. It was true that his negligence of this common trend amongst the older Slytherin boys had earned him nothing but respect amongst his fellows. It was something they were unable to put their fingers on, a detail so small that they were could not pin it down, but Draco knew that was one of the reasons that he was one of the most highly respected students in the school.

That was, of course, only part of it, mused Draco, as he flopped down onto his neatly made bed, and positioned himself with great care so as not to disturb the sheets before it was needed.

His reputation played a large part in it as well. He was the well known son of a well known deatheater, and, though the vast majority of this school viewed this as something to be ashamed of, he knew it also created a secret sense of awe around him.

He was also, though it was not as widely known, an excellent student. All right, so he wasn't always on time with his essays, but what he wrote was good, and he flew through exams without even needing to pick up a book.

Nobody could doubt he was destined for greatness. "But I'd give it up for you." He breathed. He sat up. Unsure of what he had just said. "Who…?" He racked his brains. Something, or rather someone, was on his mind, and he didn't even know who it was.

Surely the mind should not be able to trick like this. To stir up such feelings without even offering an explanation was simply cruel. Draco sat back and cursed his mind for being so infuriating.

"It will pass." He assured himself. "It will pass."

I KNOW THIS CHAPTER IS SHORT! It's a mini-inbetweeny sort of chapter! Read Act 2 scenes 3 and 4 of Antony and Cleopatra. Shakespeare had mini-inbetweeny bits too! Not comparing myself to Shakespeare, as, let's face it, that's just idiotic. So yeah, don't review saying "This was a really short chapter" because I know it is. I wrote it. But I have very little time at the minute, so if I'm going to update, just for now, it's going to have to be with mini chapters.

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