A/N: Tackling another chapter edit. W00t.

You know you have no life when you're editing a FanFiction about a nonexistent couple you're obsessed with from the most nerd-related series that wasn't even written by you at nearly 1 in the morning. Whilst choosing to ignore all Facebook messages that are thrown your way in order to 'concentrate better'.

Pshh. Antisocial. Never.

Have a piece of American dream,
Open up and swallow on your knees,
And say "thank you,
I'd like some desperate measures, please."
For a first effort this
Feels kinda last ditch,
I guess this just
Got kinda drastic,
Trust us, you just fell off the bus, suckers
Yeah, well, payback is a mother fucker.
~Desperate Measures by Marianas Trench

Draco stormed over to the Slythin table, a familiar scowl resting upon his face, and hovered above Blaise and Theodore. Beside them sat a first year, looking up at the two infamous Slythins with an awed expression on his face. Draco, muttering angrily under his breath, shoved the first year out of the seat. The defenseless boy looked like he was about to protest, but when he met the eyes of the angry Malfoy heir, he scrambled away. Blaise and Theodore snickered as Draco slid into the now vacant seat.

"How kind of you, Mate," Blaise commented.

"He shoulda seen in coming," Theodore put in.

"Damn first years," Draco muttered. "So bloody annoying."

"And easy," Theodore said, winking at a blonde a couple of seats across from him. She giggled and hid behind her hair.

"Drrraaakkeeyyyy!" Upon Draco's arrival, Pansy had squeezed herself into the seat between Draco and the boy beside him. The space was tight, and Pansy's leg was thrown across Draco's. "Where have you been?"

"Get off of me, Pansy," Draco growled, shoving her leg away from him.

Pansy pouted. "Don't be like this again, Drakey! I haven't seen you all summer- can't you be nice today for today?"

"My name is Draco," he said with clenched teeth. Then, in a mock-Pansy voice, he said- "Not Drakey."

More snickers from Theodore and Blaise.

"I thought you liked my nicknames," Pansy cooed.

Draco snorted. "I don't like your nicknames," he paused, his head tilted as if he was thinking, then he added, "Or you, come to think about it."

"Oh, you don't mean that, Drakey!" she cried shrilly.

"Oh, I mean every word of it," Draco replied instantly, shoving her. "Now, get out of here. Your perfume is suffocating me."

Pansy jutted out her lower lip in what she thought was a sexy pout -but was rather revolting to the blonde Slythin-. Tears began to form in her hazel eyes and she stood up, dashing from the Great Hall. Most of the Hogwarts students ignored the girl, as they had grown used to her drama, but the first years stared after her worriedly.

"Ohhh Drrraaakkkeeeyyy!" Blaise and Theodore mocked, laughing at the blonde. The two of them were used to Draco's mood swings that were Pansy-related. At one moment, he would be snogging her in public that surely was not legal, and another, he would appear as if he was ready to push her off a cliff. Yet no matter what Draco did, Pansy always returned to him. More than likely because of the money.

"Sod off," Draco growled. He stabbed at his meat with his fork. His issues with Ganger were far more important.

Be civil to Granger? Hell no! When was Draco Malfoy ever polite to anyone, let alone a Gryffindor? Let alone a mudblood! Draco shook his head angrily. That would completely destroy his reputation as the heartless Slytherin Prince, and he couldn't allow that to happen. But then again, what choice did he have? McGonagall had said the school could potentially be shut down if they didn't improve their House problems. As much as he hated to admit it, Draco needed this school, he needed a place to escape his father from. Hogwarts was his only option, and it always will be. If his father ever found him again once he moved away (which was highly unlikely to happen, because Draco was just that cunning and deceitful), he needed a backup plan. He could get a job at Hogwarts. He needed this school here for much, much longer.

I'll only be kind to the mudblood when we're in public, Draco decided silently. And not even so much then. Just a simple nod in her direction, it's not like I have to talk to her or anything. Then, when we're back in the common room, I can be as nasty to her as I wish.

Yes, that would work. Though the buck-toothed witch didn't deserve so much from the Slythin Prince, he had no choice. But one question still remained- What would this do to his reputation?

Draco could feel his headache returning. Bloody Granger, Malfoy thought bitterly. Why do you have to complicate my life further than it already is?

"Hey, Mate," Theodore nudged him. "You alright?"

"I'm fine," Draco snapped. He took a sip of his water and accidentally slammed his glass to the table with a greater amount of force than he had intended.

"Looks like somebody needs to get wasted," Blaise remarked, sharing a mischievous grin with Theodore. "We're having a little back-to-school party in the Slytherin common room."

"You know, the usual," Theodore butt in.

"Firewhiskey?" Draco inquired.

"No, butterbeer," Blaise replied sarcastically.

"Shut up, Blaise," Draco snapped. "I'm in."

"Good," Theodore grinned, regarding Draco. "You need it."

"More than you think," Draco growled. "Bloody Granger is Head Girl."

"We heard," Blaise sympathized.

"What was that old coot thinking, making a mudblood a Head?" Theodore agreed, glancing over at the Gryffindor table and wrinkling his nose.

"Let alone, a Gryffindor," Blaise nodded.

"I'm telling you," Draco muttered, "McGonagall hates me."

"Why don't you get your father to do something about it?" Theodore asked as he took a bite of mashed potatoes.

"You know why that won't work, Knott," Draco snapped, an icy edge to his voice.

Draco's two companions fell silent. Of course they knew; everyone knew. The Malfoy family had lost much respect since the war, despite Lucius's attempt to regain it. Sure, they had the family wealth, and sure, Lucius had managed to convince the ministry that he was not a Death Eater. But Potter had expressed his hate for the Malfoy family many times, and therefore the entire wizard community hated them. Yet another reason for Draco to hate the Golden Trio.

Blaise cleared his throat, sending Theodore a look that said, way to go, Theodore. He changed the subject in a way that was about as subtle as a cat."So, what do you think about the new potions master?"

"Professor Saravia?" Theodore glanced over at professors' table, his keen gaze searching for the fine blonde woman. "She's hot."

Draco looked up at the new teacher, and couldn't help but agree with his fellow Slytherin. Her long, silver curls slid elegantly down the professor's back, Hollywood-styled bangs covering one large, sapphire blue eye. Her thick lips were covered in cherry colored lipgloss. She looked as if she was in her twenties; this was probably her first year as a teacher.

Blaise smirked. "I'm glad I signed up for advanced potions classes this year."

Theodore glared down at his food. "Bloody lucky arse. I don't have potions this year."

Blaise took a bite of green beans, his eyes glittering triumphantly. "More for me, then."

Draco listened to his friends talk, trying hard not to think about Granger and how hard this year would be.

"Mr. Malfoy. I see you've actually decided to arrive."

Hermione glared at Malfoy as McGonagall spoke. She and McGonagall had been waiting outside the portrait that lead to their new rooms for more than fifteen minutes; McGonagall had insisted that both be present when she gave them their new password. If any, Hermione's pet peeve was when someone arrived late. She absolutely hated that; why set a time if you're not planning to arrive on it?

"Sorry, Headmistress," Malfoy drawled, half-sneering. "I had some... Catching up to do."

Judging by his ruffled shirt and messy hair, Hermione could almost guess just what kind of 'catching up' had to be done. And judging by the look on McGonagall's face, she did too.

"This is not the kind of behavior that I expect from the Head Boy," McGonagall scolded.

"The Head Boy is supposed to be admirable, to set a good example for the first years," Hermione agreed.

"Don't worry," Malfoy said, a smirk on his face. "I definitely made a good impression on her."

McGonagall, looking quite disturbed and flushed, cleared her throat. "Well," she said. "The password is 'Amortentia'. I will send an owl every week to alert you with a new password."

As the Headmistress lead them into the common room, Hermione couldn't help but gasp. The room was large, much larger than the Gryffindor common room, decorated elegantly with greens and reds. A fireplace resided to the left of Hermione, with a friendly-looking portrait above, who smiled and waved upon their entrance. In the middle of the room was a large couch and two chairs, with a rich, wooden table between them, presumedly for homework and studying. Hermione looked at it regretfully, knowing that she'd never be able to use it. No, she'd be doing all her work in her room. The entire wall across from them was nothing but a large window, giving the two a fabulous view of the castle grounds. Why, she could see everything: the lake, glittering in the sunlight, Hagrid's hut, looking warm and inviting to Hermione's eyes, the Whomping Willow, its arms billowing around leisurely, and the forbidden forest.

"It's alright," Draco said indifferently.

"Alright!" Hermione gasped. "It's amazing!"

"Miss Granger, your room is to the left," McGonagall said, gesturing towards the stairwell on the right, decorated with reds and yellows. "Mr. Malfoy, yours is to the right." She then gestured to the left, which decorated with Malfoy's own house colors. "I realize you must have much unpacking to do, so I'll leave you to it. It is amongst the two of you to decide your patrolling schedule, but I require at least one in the morning and one in the afternoon. Fail to do so..." McGonagall shot Malfoy a pointed look, "...will result in loss of Head status. I bid you farewell."

And with that, she was gone, leaving Hermione with Malfoy.

She was silent for a moment, shifting her feet awkwardly. She remembered her duty to keep Hogwarts running. "Um, so, this patrolling schedule..."

"I'll take morning shifts, you take night shifts," Malfoy snapped.

Well, he didn't call me mudblood, Hermione thought. It's a start.

"Listen," she continued, "about the whole House wars thing..."

"No, you listen," Malfoy growled. "I will not, nor will I ever be, polite to a mudblood-" Nevermind, Hermione thought, sighing internally. "-I will occasionally acknowledge you, possibly at meals or anything of the like, but you must understand that it's all an act." Malfoy glared at her.

"That's all you're going to do?" Hermione cried. "Malfoy, the school could be shut down!"

"So?" Malfoy said, arching an eyebrow. "They're lucky I'm doing that much."

"You really don't care about this school?" Hermione said in disbelief.

"Why should I?" Malfoy shot back.

"Oh, no reason," Hermione said angrily. "Except that maybe, just maybe, Hogwarts is more than just a school for some people. It's their home. An escape from the people who hurt them." Hermione saw faint surprise and flash across Malfoy's face, as if something she had said caught him off-guard. "Like Harry. His uncle-"

That seemed to hit a nerve in Malfoy. "I don't give a damn about Potter's sap story, Granger," he snapped. "In case you didn't know, it was an 'escape' for Voldemort, too." Hermione cringed at the name. "Look where that got him."

Hermione's temper snapped. "You're heartless, Malfoy, you know that?"

Malfoy smirked, though his eyes did not reflect the confident expression on his face. It held, instead, some odd sort of emotion. "I'm reminded every day."

"Well," Hermione said hotly, "If you're not going to do anything to save the school, I will."

She stormed off into her room, practically fuming with anger. How could Malfoy be such a selfish git? Why did she have to do all the work? Of course, she really shouldn't have expected anything more from him. She flung herself onto her bed and sighed.

This would be a lot harder than she thought.