Author's Note: My brother's getting married on Saturday, I'm so excited! I'm a bridesmaid, which means I'll be very busy until the wedding's over. Thank you to those who read and reviewed my one-shot. I'm really glad about the number of hits it got! Anyway, when you read this chapter, you'll see that Lupin is back! I love him too much to leave him out of this story. We'll just pretend that the curse on the Defence Against the Dark Arts position is one that only allows the teacher to teach no more than one year in a row. There won't be that much Draco-Hermione interaction in this chapter because I'm sure you all know how it goes; exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, resolution, blah, blah, blah… enjoy the chapter!

The wonderful reviewers: , Jadalia, BroadwayNightOwl, SgtSnarky, Green Flames, mikenewtonislove, love from a muggle, AyMee.x, ASHLEY H., teekim17, shell, I'm home, Saku-Chan9876, kk1999 and uknowho.

SgtSnarky: Thank you for pointing out my embarrassing mistake! As you can probably tell, I'm very forgetful. And yes, lots of girls signed up too! You'll be seeing lots of girl power on the team later on.


Chapter Two – Believe Me, I'm Lying

Hermione entered her Ancient Runes classroom and was greeted happily by Professor Babbling. Four other students were there. Ernie Macmillan, Terry Boot, Theodore Nott and Draco Malfoy. Hermione frowned slightly when she saw the blond Slytherin. He was staring at her with his intense gaze once again and she quickly turned away.

"Miss Granger, why don't you sit next to Mr. Macmillan and Mr. Boot? We're working on a group translation," Professor Babbling said. Hermione nodded and sat down with her assigned partners. She was glad that Professor Babbling didn't make her work with the Slytherins. But then again, she wouldn't let Hermione suffer. All her teachers adored her. Except for Professor Snape, that is, but he just despised all students apart from his dear Slytherins.

"Good morning, Hermione," Ernie greeted her. "Good to see you back in Ancient Runes."

"You too, Ernie." Hermione smiled as she took out her books and parchment.

"What'd you think about the whole IIQT?" Terry asked.

"The International Interschool Quidditch Tournament?"

"Yeah. Sounds cool, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it'll be fun to meet students from other schools."

"I've signed up for it."

"You play Quidditch? I didn't know that," Hermione said while keeping her eyes on the runes they were supposed to translate.

"I'm not amazing, mind you, but I do play," Terry said. "Besides, almost everybody's signed up. Even those who don't really play."

"Why?"

"For the glory, of course," Terry explained with a smile. Hermione shook her head. Sometimes, she really could not understand the male species. The rest of the lesson sped by quickly, even though she had to do most of the work herself due to her two partners not being able to do anything but talk about the upcoming Quidditch Tournament. She never understood why the game was so compelling. Flying on a broom was one of her biggest fears, apart from Lord Voldemort. It wasn't the height, but just the idea of sitting in midair on a thin stick with a mind of its own that freaked her out. She was actually a decent flier. Not that she let anybody know. She just pretended she was horrible on a broomstick so nobody would ever force her to fly on one. She couldn't reveal her fear—Gryffindors were brave. They weren't supposed to be scared of wooden sticks with broomcorn sticking out the end! Hermione let out a sigh of relief as the bell rang and neatly packed away her things.

"Good lesson, students, good lesson! We'll continue this next lesson!" Professor Babbling beamed at her class.

"Do you have Potions now, Hermione?" Terry asked.

"Yes." Hermione checked her timetable. "Oh, how delightful. A full hour with our favorite Slytherin professor."

"Well, at least Lupin's our Defence professor again this year," Terry pointed out as they exited the classroom.

"That's true. I can't wait for Defence!" Hermione smiled. After much persuasion from Dumbledore, Remus Lupin had agreed to return to his post as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. The Board of Governors had eagerly agreed to it, knowing that Lupin was the most competent teacher the school had had in many years. Once the Golden Trio had heard the news, they had flooed from the Burrow to 12 Grimmauld Place, where Lupin was temporarily residing, and attacked him with vicious hugs.

Lost in her thoughts, Hermione failed to realize she was approaching something hard until she bumped into it. It was Draco Malfoy.

"Watch it, Mudblood," Draco hissed, pretending to brush her "filth" off his uniform.

"Don't you dare call her that, Malfoy." Terry glared at the Slytherin.

"I'll call her whatever I damn well please, Boot." Draco smirked and turned back to Hermione. "See you later, Mudblood."

Draco and Blaise walked away, leaving Hermione fuming. That ferret! It may have been many years, but the word still hurt every time it came out of his mouth. Mudblood. Draco's father had been imprisoned in Azkaban after the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, and since then, Narcissa Malfoy had not once stepped out of the Malfoy Manor. Rita Skeeter made it her duty to pry around the manor grounds, trying desperately to catch a glimpse of the beautiful elitist witch herself. Rita penned her constant failures in her Daily Prophet column, blaming Narcissa's "selfish and volatile son" for kicking her off their property time and time again. Hermione couldn't blame him for doing so. Nobody knew what had happened to the Malfoys, although it was confirmed that the new Minister for Magic himself, Rufus Scrimgeour, visited the Malfoy Manor shortly after Lucius' imprisonment while accompanied by a group of Aurors.

"What a git," Terry muttered.

"C'mon, Hermione. We don't want to be late for Potions," Ernie pointed out. They walked to their classroom in the dungeons, and once they walked in, Hermione's face fell. The other students already there were Michael Corner, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott and Hermione's two best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Where were all the other girls?! It was simply… degrading. They probably opted to continue with Divination. Oh, how Hermione despised the subject. And the professor.

"Hermione, come sit next to us!" Ron waved cheerfully to her.

"Can I sit with you, Hermione?" Ernie asked her hopefully.

"Yeah, of course," she nodded. They took their seat at a desk next to Harry and Ron's. Hermione looked around to observe the classroom, only to find Draco Malfoy staring directly at her.

'There is something seriously wrong with that boy.' Hermione thought before turning back to Ernie, who was asking her a question about potion ingredients.

"We had a free period," Ron grinned, "and we have one after lunch too!"

"Are you two down for all the same classes?" Hermione asked. Harry and Ron both nodded enthusiastically. "I should have known," she muttered. While her two best friends were joined at the hip, Hermione… well, wasn't. In her earlier years, she clung to them like a leech, but lately she found that she enjoyed spending more time with her other friends too. Harry and Ron were still her best friends, and they would always be, but it wasn't like she could talk to them about some of her problems. She didn't think they would know what potion to take to get rid of her period pains.

The doors swung open and a man with a prominent nose and greasy black hair stormed in. He cast a cold look over his students before shouting, "Draught of the Living Death. Now!"

Hermione took out her copy of Advanced Potion-Making and quickly flipped to the page on which she had previously learnt how to make the potion while reading the book before the school year even began. While the rest of the class frantically scanned through their books to find the correct page, Hermione got up and went to the supply closet to collect the needed ingredients.

"Look at her," Blaise Zabini said as his eyes followed the Golden Gryffindor Girl as she crossed the classroom. "How the hell can she do everything so quickly?"

"She's a bookworm." Draco shrugged. "Where's Pansy? Is she skiving?"

"I heard something about her trying an engorging charm on her boobs and ending up in the hospital wing," the Italian boy snickered.

"Are you serious? Bloody hell, that girl is thick."

"Tell me something I don't know," Blaise agreed. They continued flicking through their copies of Advanced Potion-Making slowly. "Who do you think will get into the IIQT?"

"Not sure." Draco shrugged. "To be honest, I think Pottyhead will be Seeker."

"Aren't you trying out for Seeker?"

"No. I'm trying out for Beater."

"Beater?" Blaise looked at his best friend in confusion. "But you're a Seeker."

"I'm aware of that, Blaise," Draco snapped. "My father was the one who wanted me to be a Seeker. Now that he's gone, I can do whatever the hell I want, can't I? Being a Beater's more interesting. You get to hurt people. The bloody Seeker doesn't do anything until the end of the game."

"Are you sure you can play Beater?"

"I know how to play Beater better than I do Seeker."

"Then you must be hell good." Blaise laughed. "You think Weasel will be picked as the Keeper?"

"No fucking way. Everyone knows Miles is the best Keeper in this school." Draco watched as Hermione stepped out of the supply closet, arms full of an array of ingredients. There she was, the most ridiculously confusing girl he had ever met. He had always hated her because she was a Mudblood. But the truth was, the first time his eleven-year-old self saw her on the Hogwarts Express, he thought she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. When she found out she was Muggle-born, he was disappointed. When she began hanging out with Harry and Ron… that was when he started to despise her. Even though she was pretty, she was also a Mudblood, and Draco accepted the fact easily. However, as time passed on, she became prettier and prettier, and in the beginning of their third year Draco had almost had a heart attack when he saw her. He tried to keep his silly crush a secret, but Blaise knew better.

"Mate, you annoy her cause you like her," Blaise once said. "I don't see you paying attention to any of the other Muggle-born Gryffindors."

Naturally, he denied it, and cursed at his best friend repeatedly. It was when Hermione slapped him across the face when he first felt like his head would implode if he couldn't have her. And no, he was not into S&M. But when her hand made contact with his face, he could feel fire. Not just the burn from the pain of her slap, but something else that felt like nothing else he had ever experienced. Draco Malfoy knew exactly what it was. Lust. He wanted her. He really wanted her. But being the conceited Pure-blood that he was, he didn't do anything about it. Well, he did… in private when he was alone in his dormitory.

"Mr. Malfoy, get on with your potion," Snape ordered before continuing with observing other students.

"Wanker," Draco muttered under his breath. He was quite surprised that the Potions master would talk to him in such a way. "He usually let's me do whatever I want."

Blaise chuckled at his friend's immaturity and said, "Maybe he doesn't think you're that important anymore."

"Not important? Maybe you're forgetting, but my name's even in the bleeding school motto."

"Oh yes, how could I forget." Blaise rolled his eyes. He coincidentally flipped to the page with the instructions for the Draught of the Living Death. "Great, I found it. Come on, let's start on the bloody potion."

When Draco was halfway complete with his potion, the bell rang, signifying the end of Potions.

"Finally," Blaise sighed as he packed up his things. "I need a smoke."

"Same," Draco agreed. They began to file out Snape's classroom, and Draco couldn't help but feel a little mischievous. He deliberately bumped into Hermione as he walked out the door. "I thought I told you to watch it, Mudblood," he sneered.

"You were the one who bumped into me, ferret!" Hermione retorted, crossing her arms.

"I'm careful enough not to touch filth." Draco smirked. "I know I'm perfect and all, but you don't have to be all over me."

"Don't be so full of yourself, Malfoy." Harry glared at the Slytherin before wrapping his arm protectively around Hermione. Draco felt a tinge of jealousy. "C'mon, Mione. Let's go." Harry led her away, and Ron gave Draco a look of pure loathing before he followed his two best friends. Draco turned to Blaise, only to find he was smirking.

"What?" Draco demanded.

"Oh, nothing," Blaise said, but the smirk stayed in place. "Just thinking about how you fancy Granger."

"I do not-"

"Draco, mate, I'm your best friend. You can't keep things from me," Blaise said. "You should know that by now."

Draco remained silent for a second before saying, "And if I did?"

"If you did what?"

"If I did fancy Granger, hypothetically, what would you think?"

"I would disapprove. At first, anyway. You know I don't care that much about blood status, but she's a bloody Gryffindor. I'd think you were mental," Blaise said. "Hypothetically, of course." he gave Draco a signature Slytherin smirk before walking off, not waiting for his best friend.

"Right," Draco said, watching as Blaise left. "It's hypothetical."

Oh, Draco Malfoy, you can't fool yourself.