AN1: I'm going to NYC TODAY and won't be updating for awhile. So this is a really, really, REALLY long chapter—the longest one I've written for this story—to make up for my impending lack of updates. Sorry!

Dedication: I know that I had said that the first person to guess the movie from the previous chapter—it was Ella Enchanted, by the way—would get this one dedicated to them...but so many got it that I just couldn't leave it at one person. So this chapter is dedicated to: McFressie, Mahiwago no Megumi, blackwolfgirl2722, Kat.1600 and to Ducky!

Disclaimer: I own absolutely no part of Harry Potter; neither the books nor the movies.

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Why does this always happen to me? ...Okay maybe this has never happened to me before, but that is beside the point! It is just my luck to have this happen. I wish I hadn't gotten that note from Professor Snape. My life would be so much less complicated if I hadn't gotten it. Seriously. Only I would be assigned this task.

You're probably confused. Let me go back a little bit; maybe it will clear things up.

I had just gotten back from watching the boys play Quidditch against Hufflepuff. They creamed them, naturally. After Gryffindor was up by 200 points, I decided to stop watching them and read my book. What can I say? It was interesting; never mind the fact that I'd read it at least four times already.


Anyway, so I get back to the common room and standing nervously by the comfy couch is this little first-year boy. He looked scared out of his mind! I asked him what he needed and he told me that he was looking for Hermione Granger and that he had a note for her from Professor Snape.

I took the note, after telling him that I was Hermione, and he left. Poor first year. Snape can be awfully intimidating. So, of course, I open the note and read it.

Ms. Granger:

Please report to the dungeons immediately.

-S. Snape

Harry and Ron were peering at it over my shoulder. "That's not odd at all," Ron had joked. Harry just looked slightly unnerved. I smiled confidently, although I didn't feel confident in the least.

"It's fine. It's not like he's going to eat me or anything. I'll be back soon."

Harry didn't look reassured. "If you're not back in ten minutes, I am going to get help." He wasn't even kidding.


I laughed. "Whatever flies your broom." Then I left and headed towards the dungeons.

I would never have told them, but I was getting nervous. What on earth could Snape possibly want with me?

I knocked on the door.

"Enter," Snape had said silkily. "Ms. Granger," he said once I had entered the classroom, "I have a favor to ask of you."

Well whatever I had expected him to say, it sure wasn't that. A favor? How would I be of any help to Professor Snape?

"Yes, sir?"

"It has come to my attention that one of my students is failing Arithmancy. He must pass it in order to be on the Quidditch team. I went to Professor Birdsrdum and she suggested that you would be the best candidate for the job."

Smartest one in my year or not, I had no idea what he wanted me to do.

"So that leads me to ask if you would tutor a Slytherin of mine in Arithmancy."

I had mentally slapped myself. How could I have not seen that coming?

"Of course, sir."

"I thank you, Ms. Granger. I shall call him in here so that the two of you can arrange a schedule. You can come in now."

The door of what I had assumed to be Snape's quarters opened and out walked Draco Malfoy.

CUE DRAMATIC MUSIC! ...no, I'm not joking. Please, cue it.

Now you're up-to-date. That brings me back to my original complaint: why does this happen to me? Honestly? I think that Merlin is up there slapping his knees and laughing at me. Just absolutely busting his sides with laughter; rolling on the floor with mirth. You get the picture. I mean, really, this must be some sick cosmic joke. Does Snape really think that Malfoy will lower his standards and accept help from a mere muggleborn?

I don't know what the potions professor is smoking, but you know what? I think that I want some. It must be nice to live in Snape-land. Sure, it may be dark, damp and absolutely depressing as hell, but I'm sure it's a much less complicated world than mine. I wonder if I could stow away behind his billowy robes while he apparates there.

Nah, I'd miss Crookshanks too much.

Anyway, Snape has left the room and now it's just me and Malfoy. Malfoy and me. Urgh. I wonder how obnoxious and rude he'll be to me before I punch him. I don't think it will take me that long to snap. And if I do, it'll totally be worth the punishment that Snape will surely give me.

Malfoy waves his hand in front of my face. "Granger? You there?"

Oops, I must have zoned out on him.

"Yeah, I'm right here. So when do you want me to...tutor you?"

"Well when's good for you?"

"I don't know. It depends. How bad is your grade?"

He doesn't look at me. Instead he chooses to look at the floor. Oh, so it's that bad.

"Is three nights a week good?"

He looks half relieved and half horrified. Well too damn bad. He can suck it up. It's his grade, not mine.

"Yeah," he chokes out.

"So are Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays okay days?" I wait for his response, although I know what is going to come next. Something about Quidditch practices no doubt.

"Except when I have Quidditch practices," he says to me.

See? What did I tell you? "Sure, we can work those out as they come."

"Great."

"Great. So I'll see you tomorrow. How about we meet around seven pm in the library?"

"That sounds good. How long each day?"

"It depends. How much are you willing to pay me?"

"Ten galleons an hour," His face is the epitome of seriousness.

Sheesh! I was joking, but hey, who am I to turn that much money down? "Then how about one hour a day?"

"You've got yourself a deal, Granger."

I turn to walk out the door; I am quite satisfied at the prospect of getting thirty galleons a week. That's certainly nothing to sneeze at. He grabs my hand before I can leave. Not roughly, and not softly, somewhere in between. My cheeks, I am sorry to say, turn red at the contact. Why? I have no clue. I think I'm coming down with something.

"One more thing," he says while keeping a firm grasp on my hand.

"Yes?"

"Since we'll be spending much more time together than normal, we should go to a first name basis. This surname business is quite childish, wouldn't you agree, Hermione?"

Damn! My face just got two—if not three—shades darker. Why though? My name did sound lovely coming from his appealing mouth. His lips are ones that I know for a fact that Parvati would kill to have; they are full and look very kissable. She's been thinking about getting injections; Collagen or some such nonsense.

Wait, what?! Oh dear Merlin. What's wrong with me? I must be getting sick. Malfoy's mouth...appealing? His lips kissable? I shake my head to rid myself of those thoughts.

He's still waiting for an answer. Well what am I supposed to say?! If I say 'no' then that will make me seem childish! I don't want to seem childish.

"Yes, Draco, I agree."

His name rolls smoothly off my lips like melted chocolate.

????? What!? What? No. I'm delirious. I must be. I must have a fever or I must be getting one. That's the only way that I would ever think that blasphemous thought. Hmm, or it could be hormones. I could be PMS-ing. Yeah, that's gotta be it. There's no other explanation. No other plausible one anyway.

He lets go of my hand. "See you tomorrow at seven."

"Yeah, see you," I said faintly and walked out the door.

Now what the hell am I supposed to tell Harry and Ron? He didn't say anything, but I highly doubt that Draco—that's going to be odd to get used to, me calling him Draco—would want me telling anyone that he's being tutored. And besides, he probably wouldn't tell his Slytherin buddies. So I'm assuming that this is a secret. That's fun. I like secrets!

But back to the problem; I know that as soon as I walk in they are going to attack me with a bunch of questions. Maybe I could oh-so-carefully lead them away from the subject. It'll be so subtle that they won't even realize that I'm doing it.

By the time I get to the common room, I have no specific plan. Here's to improvisation!

I walk in and, just as I had predicted, Ron and Harry come running towards me.

"Hermione, Hermione! What happened?"

"Yeah, what did Snape want?"

I take a deep breath and...yawn? That's not part of the plan!

"Well he chained me to his desk and made me his love slave. Then Malfoy came in and we had a threesome. It was amazing but now I'm really tired. So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go to bed now."

Oh my gosh. That wasn't part of the plan either, but it doesn't even matter! That was priceless. The look on their faces as I flounced past them was totally worth it! They didn't buy it, but still! What idiots, they actually think that I am going to bed; never mind the fact that it's eight pm and way too early to go to sleep. Whatever, I'll find something to do. I can read! Yes, that's exactly what I'll do.

xxxXXXxxxXXX NEXT DAY xxxXXXxxxXXX

Hmm, I'm pretty bored. I'm currently in my last class before lunch: Transfiguration. And today we are turning snakes into gophers. Oh, now there's a useful skill. I'm totally going to need that later when I'm the minister of magic. Oh for sure, Professor McGonagall. Most definitely the most useful spell ever. They'll pay me thousands of galleons to turn snakes to gophers, I just know it.

Gophers are actually pretty gross. No wonder they have gopher-snakes that exist just to prey on these ugly little creatures.

...But I digress.

I can't really focus on much. I'm trying to think of what I can say to the boys so that they won't follow me to the library. I don't want to tell them what I'm really doing, but then if I say that I can't tell them what I'm doing, then I just know that Harry's going to bring out his cloak and he and Ron will follow me there. And then when they see Draco and me getting along, they'll blow steam from their ears—figuratively, of course. Although, I'm not too sure about Ron, he may just explode—and demand that I get away from him. Ron will probably grab me and drag me across the room while scream-interrogating Draco about what spell he cast on me.

You think I'm joking. I'm as serious as I can be without actually being Sirius.

Get it? Serious...Sirius? I'm sure you do. I would hope so. Haha, I am too funny sometimes!

Finally! It's lunchtime! Maybe I'll get a chance to think of a lie to tell Harry and Ron. And if I don't think of one during lunch, then I'll have three other classes plus dinner to think of one. I doubt that I'll still be raking my mind frantically for an idea when it's six-fifty.

xxxXXXxxxXXX SIX-FIFTY xxxXXXxxxXXX

Oh my gosh! I still haven't the slightest idea of what to tell them and it's six-fifty!! I am quite literally racking my brains and yet I can't think of anything to say!! Harry and Ron look concerned.

"Hermione?" Harry ventures, "Are you alright?"

Breathe Hermione, breathe. I can't flip out on him.

"NO! No, Harry, I am NOT okay!!"

Heh, so much for not flipping out. He backs away with his hands up defensively. "I'm sorry I asked."

I feel slightly guilty for screaming at him. Only slightly. Well females are very emotionally unstable sometimes. Especially when...OHMYGOSH! I have it! I know how to get them to not follow me!

"Sorry, Harry," I said earnestly. "I'm just under so much stress and, and..."

I whip around to face Ron. "Do you know if Ginny has any tampons?"

I almost blew my cover by laughing. The looks on their faces are so funny. They paled completely. If there is one thing that makes guys uncomfortable, it's the mention of periods, tampons and...that time of the month. It's a tool that can be used only once in awhile. It must be used wisely.

Ron stuttered, trying to come up with something to say. "I, er, well, Hermione, couldn't you just go ask her yourself?"

Wrong thing to say, Ronald, wrong thing to say. Bring on the crocodile tears.

"It's okay. I'll go find her myself," I started to let tears well in my eyes and some spilled over. Brilliant. So my performance continues. "It's not like I ever do anything for you guys when you need my help so why should you help me in my time of need?"

Ron has the grace to look ashamed. "Aw, Hermione,"

"No." I interrupt him. "Just stop, I'll go to the hospital wing. And don't even THINK about coming with me."

I can be so dramatic when I want to be. It's very fun. For effect, I sniff once, turn on my heel and head out the door. Before it closes I hear Ron, "That was scary mate, one minute she's yelling at you and the next she's crying her sodding eyes out! Women."

I didn't hear Harry say anything so I'm assuming he just nodded.

Bingo! Now I'm out and there is no way in hell that they'd even consider following me. Not after that over-dramatic performance.

With a skip in my step—not literally—I make my way to the library to meet Draco.

To my surprise, he's already there and he has his book open and is working on problems.

"I'm not late, am I?"

"Nah, I'm just early." He smiles at me. He has a nice smile.

What? Don't look at me like that! I'm just saying. It's a nice change to see him smiling as opposed to smirking. Although his smirk is pretty damn hot.

I think my performance with Harry and Ron was too convincing! My hormones are coming back. He's not hot and neither is his smirk. I'm just going crazy. I should wear a sign that says: 'Please ignore me, I'm not right in the head.'

Yeah, that sounds reasonable.

"Okay, so we have an hour. Please, try to keep your hatred of me at a minimum. I can only take so much."

My tone was joking, but I meant what I said. I know that we aren't the best of friends and I know that his politeness to me the other night had probably been because Snape was in the other room. Draco looks askance at me after I said that. He looks a little hurt. Why? I don't know. But he did. Ignoring that, I sat down next to him, pulled the book in front of me and quickly scanned the page.

"So, what's troubling you?"

"Everything."

Oh dear, it was going to be a long hour.

After about forty-five minutes of going through what I thought to be the most basic concepts and explaining them step by step, he started to get it. I could just tell that he was beginning to understand it more. When he only had ten problems to go, I told him that I wouldn't help him and that he had to solve them on his own.

Ten minutes passed, and he had a couple more to go. I waited until he set the quill down with a bang. I looked at him and he handed me the paper to look over.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not a mean person by nature, I'm really not. But I love to be over-dramatic. As I am looking over the paper, I make various sounds of disapproval hoping that he'll think that he did them wrong. The smug smile drops off of his face and he watches me worriedly. I feel sorta bad about doing this, but I'm enjoying myself more than I feel guilty.

Finally, I set the paper down and look at him somberly. His eyes bore into mine, searching for a sign of laugher. It's too much. I can't keep a straight face. I start laughing.

"What?"

"You got them all right!"

"Seriously? You aren't joking?" I shake my head.

"Yes! I did them right, and they make sense!! I could kiss you!"

My cheeks flush and I look down. No. I refuse to entertain that notion. I don't want him to kiss me. I don't. Believe me; I don't want to feel his amazingly appealing lips on mine. Really, I don't. And he's not going to. So it doesn't matter.

It got very quiet all of a sudden. I looked up and he was watching me intensely. "You know, about what you said earlier, I've never had hatred for you. I may have been an evil little daddy's boy taught to look down on non-purebloods, but I never loathed you. It was petty, childish jealousy."

What? Malfoy? Jealous? Of me? I was going to ask of what, but thought it wiser not to. Part of me didn't even want to know.

Instead of just saying, 'Oh that's okay it's understandable, let's just start over. Hey, I'm Hermione,' like any NORMAL person would—but let's not forget that I am not normal—I lean forward and kiss him on the cheek. He looks almost as surprised as I feel!

I am mortified. I don't know why I did that! What possessed me to kiss him? My face resembles a tomato, I can feel it. I cram my stuff into my bag, mumble an apology and get up to leave.

His hand grabs my wrist.

He pulls me backwards and onto his lap. My cheeks don't even have time to get darker.

Before I can get up again, he puts his arm around my waist and pulls me to his chest. (So I can't escape?) And then he kisses me.

And not on the cheek either.

His mouth is soft and demanding on mine. He nips on my bottom lip and I part my lips so his tongue can gain entrance into my mouth. It is amazing! I never want his lips to ever be apart from mine. I don't know how I've survived this long without this feeling, I really don't. Remember how I said that his mouth looked appealing yesterday and again about fifteen seconds ago? Well it is. And let me tell you, his lips are better felt than looked at, if you know what I mean.

You know, I think that I could definitely grow to like tutoring. It's not as bad as I thought that it would be. You're probably thinking, 'Well she would say that now.'

And you know what, you're right; yes I would say that now.

Who's the one kissing Draco Malfoy? Yeah, that's what I thought.

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THIS IS MY NEW FAVORITE CHAPTER!

THIS IS MY NEW FAVORITE CHAPTER!

AN2: Heh, I thought that some of this was quite funny. (See above notes.) And yes, Hermione is being quite dramatic and possibly OOC...but that's why it's funny.

Twelve reviews for this chapter would be so fabulous! Thirteen or more would definitely guarantee a faster update! C'mon, I KNOW that there are more than eleven of you reading this. REVIEW! All of you!

Lovelove, Amanda