Disclaimer: We obviously do not own the Harry Potter World, as much as we wish we did. That genius comes from the one and only J.K. Rowling.

Please review, thanks (:

-K&M

Chapter 1: The Encounters of Past Shadows

Floor 3, Room 162. I turned into the half-full classroom. Class didn't start for another fifteen minutes, but Malfoys were never late. I proceeded to a solitary seat on the right. Just because I had to attend a stupid "Muggle Relations" class, a mandatory class at all Wizarding Universities since the end of the war, didn't mean I had to actually talk to people. It was easier to just ignore everyone and keep to my studies.

I sent weekly letter to my mother, but only because she had also seen reason at the end of the war and no longer was so set in stone about blood prejudices, so we could relate on some level. However, I didn't care to speak to anyone else, ever. I was still a bit cold hearted, but I was at school to become a Healer so I wasn't completely heartless.

The teacher called for attention as the last few students scrambled into the room, taking seats in the back. I glanced to my left, and saw that no one had taken the seat next to me. "Good," I thought. There was no one to bother me with an over-the-top-first-day-let's-be-best-friends-intro duction. It was undeniably the worst part of the start of a new term. I already had to listen to some overly confident, pompous, annoying kid talk all about his life and dreams that morning in my Introduction to Minor Wounds class. The bloke's head was so big you would've thought he had enough brains in there to notice how much I wanted to curse him.

My teacher for Muggle Relations was a stout man who obviously enjoyed the school's fattening food a little too much. He was waddling around asking each student individually their name and writing it down.

When he got to me, he extended his hand and said, "Professor Slade, welcome to Muggle Relations."

"Draco Malfoy," I replied, accepting the handshake. A flicker of shock crossed his eyes but vanished immediately. The Malfoy reputation hadn't been so great since the war, and I wasn't surprised that the professor didn't seem particularly thrilled to have a Malfoy in his class.

I was surprised when the teacher smiled and said, "I look forward to a good term, Mr. Malfoy. Should any problems arise, I'm always available for dedicated students." He then continued to the next student.

After introducing himself to everyone, Professor Slade walked to the front of the room. He magically made a copy of his list of students, which began to separate, fold and fly into a hat.

"We are going to begin this year with a fun partner project!" He picked up the hat and then announced that he would pick name pairings at random. "When your name is called, please stand and then sit with your partner. Mr. Clark and Mr. Simmons; Ms. Jones and Mr. Samuels." It went on for a little while, and I thoroughly disliked the entire situation. Maybe if I was lucky my partner would do most of the work, or at least she would be nice to look at the whole time.

"Mr. Malfoy," I stood, "and Ms. Granger." My heart skipped a beat. I haven't heard that name in several years. A few rows ahead of me, a bushy haired brunette whipped around to glare at me. I was wide-eyed and frozen to the spot. Hermione could tell I wasn't about to move, so she grudgingly picked up her bag and took the seat to the left of me.

"Malfoy," she said curtly.

"Granger?" I questioned. "I was under the impression you were now Mrs. Weasley?" I had in fact seen a wedding announcement the past year in the Daily Prophet about her and that idiotic redhead Ron Weasley. I certainly would not have forgotten. That was the day I knew that I would never have a chance, but then there she was glaring at me and was apparently "Ms. Granger" again.

"Not everything has a happy ending, surely you know that," she replied rather sourly.

I didn't respond, I just looked up at the teacher who had just finished calling all the names and was about to pass out the project guidelines. I paid very close attention to Professor Slade so that I wouldn't thing about the girl next to me frantically scribbling in her notebook as she always did back in our Hogwarts days.

"And remember to be nice," Professor Slade closed. "Class dismissed."

I stood up from my seat, and went to leave the classroom, barely stopping in time to notice Hermione blocking my path.

"Don't think," she hissed, "that you are going to get out of doing work."

"I wasn't," I lied; of course I didn't want to do the stupid project.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Here," I said writing down my address, "We'll rendezvous around six tonight." I winked at her, and left her behind in the classroom.

"You better not be planning anything fishy, Malfoy!" She shouted after me.

"Wouldn't dream of it," I replied without turning around as I walked away.

ooooo

My hands shook as I unlocked the door to my flat. It was 5:30, and I had about half an hour to clean up this pigsty before Granger arrived. Because of Hermione's S.P.E.W. efforts at Hogwarts, I promised myself that I wouldn't own any house elves and do the cleaning myself. Obviously, the luxurious life I lived previously had left me slightly more than lazy… I was almost regretting my no-house-elf-resolution.

I waved my wand and all the scattered clothes soared towards the hamper in my bedroom. Then the trash made its way to the bin. I hadn't quite mastered all of the household spells that would've been necessary to tidy up faster. I had to manually wash the dirty dishes and put them away. Just when I finished straightening the couch cushions, there was a knock on the door. 6:00pm exactly. Leave it to Granger to arrive precisely at six.

Upon opening the door, Hermione shoved books in my hands and stalked in completely skipping the formalities of "hellos."

"Let's get to work," she said as I closed the door. "I brought some books about Muggle conversations."

I arched my eyebrow. "Why, good evening, Ms. Granger. It is wonderful to see you. Please, do come in. Would you care for something to drink?" I said in a condescending patience. "Besides, I thought you knew all about 'Muggle Conversations.'"

"I do, but you don't. And I certainly don't feel like teaching you. Read up, pretty boy."

"So that's a 'no' to the firewhiskey?"

"Yes. However, I would care for some water," she replied.

"Darn, I would've paid money to see you drunk," I said as I turned to fetch us some drinks.

I walked into the kitchen and filled two glasses with water. I returned carrying the glasses to find her perched on my couch with her nose already in one of the large books she had brought. Man, was she stunning.

"What, no house elf servant to do your bidding at the snap of your fingers?" she asked, accepting the glass.

"Now you're the one being prejudiced," I replied, with a slight smirk on my face. That shut her up quick, and I felt bad, but it was worth it.