Author's note: Thankyou so much to everyone who has reviewed, favourite'd or followed this story! It means a lot to me that anyone has even taken any notice! I know there have been a few mistakes in my writing but I do reread them best I can!
Don't be afraid to criticize, in fact, I'm counting on having some constructive criticism. Thanks again! X

The morning bought new life to Hermione's plans, and she'd had the whole night to ponder this idea, mulling it over in her head. It seemed more reasonable, the most possible of her options. She was going to have to sleep with Draco Malfoy. She blatantly ignored the part of her that squealed with girlish delight at the thought, and squashed it deep down into her subconscious. This was a challenge that she was going to win, one way or another she would complete the coat of arms and win.

She got up early once again, but this time spent her morning cooking breakfast instead of going to the Great Hall. The small kitchen was barely used and she had to clean a thin layer of dust off most appliances and the small counter area. She'd never learnt how to clean with magic like Mrs. Weasley did, she felt it therapeutic to use the ways that were commonplace in her muggle home. The sunlight filtered in through the small circular window above the kitchen table and Hermione felt truly calm for the first time in weeks, letting herself dance around and cook like she did whilst at home with her parents. Hermione had known for as long as she could remember that she wouldn't settle for life as a housewife, witch or not, but she knew the importance of being able to cook. She planned on becoming part of the Wizengamot, and maybe working within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement - if this happened she was adamant that she would be able to cook her own meals, and not rely on a microwave for nourishment.
"What on earth is a micro wave?" she jumped at the interruption of her daydream and looked quizzically at Malfoy, "You were muttering, about not relying on a micro wave… what's that?" He looked quite confused and she had to smile at his lack of knowledge for all things 'muggle'.
"It's one word, microwave, it's a device muggles use to cook food, normally when they're in a hurry. You can have pre-cooked meals and reheat them in minutes, but honestly fresh food is always better," She turned to face him revealing that the stove was full of an assortment of foods cooking away, she smiled "talking of, I'm cooking breakfast for us." Hermione then turned back to continue cooking. She expected a reply, and when only silence followed her statement she looked up at Malfoy. His whole face was pink as he looked up and down Hermione's body and she shrugged acting like she didn't know what was wrong with him. Smiling to herself as she plated up the English breakfast. She knew her outfit – or lack of – had caught Malfoy's attention. She only wore tiny pyjama shorts and a green vest, it wasn't exactly sexy, but that was not something Hermione could pull off, this was the most skin Malfoy had ever seen from Hermione, and the little clothing she wore were his House colours, those two things combined made him blush profusely.
Handing him the full plate she sat opposite him at the table, leaning over ever so slightly to spark up a conversation.
"Don't worry, I haven't poisoned it," she winked at him and smiled, his puzzled expression made her choke on a laugh that bubbled to the surface.
"What is going on?" He demanded and she laughed away his question.
"Nothing! I just made you breakfast, don't you want it?" Hermione pulled her face into a pouty expression she saw Lavender use on Ron when she pretend to be hurt by his thoughtless remarks. It worked and Malfoy quickly started eating, still with a bemused look on his face, like he'd been dropped into a parallel universe.
Hermione found it was surprisingly easy to keep up a conversation with Malfoy when he wasn't constantly poking fun at her, and she was completely right about the fact he provided more intelligent conversation. Soon they began to speak about the fourth year Triwizard Tournament and Hermione blushed when Malfoy bought up the winner Viktor Krum.
"I heard you fucked him in the bushes outside the Yule Ball." Malfoy smirked with an eyebrow raised.
"That is a load bull! That's the kind of stupid gossip that gets thrown around about me?" She was red in the face and to stop this constant rush of blood to her head she tried to distract herself by biting her nails. She then realised she was trying to seduce Malfoy, not become his friend.
"Anyway, I always preferred blondes." This caught Malfoy's attention as he looked up from his half empty plate to her face, he quirked an eyebrow and smirked.
"Thought you had a thing for gingers, actually." He drawled, leaning further over the table to meet Hermione's gaze as she continued to blush.
"No," she held her ground "definitely have a thing for blondes." He didn't actually know how true that was, and in letting herself exchange pleasantries with Malfoy she was only becoming more attracted to the way his messy white-blonde hair caught the sunlight and fell across his face. Staring wasn't a good look, but Hermione realised she couldn't stop and Malfoy only played on this, grinning as he moved even closer to her face and whispered, "Yeah, I have a thing for blondes too. Shame." Before sitting up straight and moving away from the table. "Thanks for breakfast!"
Hermione growled in frustration at his retreating back, why did he have to be so difficult?

Potions gave Hermione another shot at flirting with Malfoy, but she knew that she had to be quiet in the presence of both Harry and Ron. When collecting her ingredients Hermione forgot one that she knew was hidden in the cupboard next to Malfoy's desk. She started to brew her Wiggenweld Potion, a healing potion she had been learning to brew through books, she added salamander blood and watched the potion turn red, then orange and continued stirring and adding ingredients until it was pink; whilst leaving it to boil she leant over her desk and called lightly, "Malfoy, could you pass me that Asphodel in the cupboard next to you?" at first she thought he had ignored her, but then he slowly moved to bring it her. Once he'd reached her desk, placing the ingredient by her cauldron he purred, "Is this how you plan to pick up every guy? Ask them to bring things in potions?"
"No" She stuttered out, wondering why she hadn't thought about that before. "I just, it's the only way to speak to you in here. " Snape did run a strict minimal speaking policy in the classroom, if he heard any conversation diverging from the topic of Potions he'd be taking away house points by each syllable.
Y'know what, Granger, I think I was wrong, maybe I prefer brunettes? I guess I'll never know until I fuck one." With his voice still ringing in her ears and her legs shaking he retreated to his own desk and easily started slicing Valerian roots for the potion hers counteracted, The Draught of Living Death.

The past couple of days had shown Hermione she really didn't know how to flirt, all the conversations she made were casual and although she wasn't a stranger to sex, the flirting side of it was a confusing prospect. It irritated her that Malfoy knew how to do something she didn't, but there wasn't exactly a book on how to flirt. Hermione was forced to accept that it wasn't something she couldn't learn, and it wasn't something that came naturally; unlike brewing the potion that was placed before her. Leaving the potions classroom with her hair unruly and wild she felt a warm hand brush the small of her back, she turned and caught sight of Malfoy moving away from her, curling his fingers to grab at his robes with obvious tension.