Hey guys! This is the third chapter! I hope you guys like it :) This week, I won't be around as much as I wanted to because I will be going out with my mom for a few days, so yeah. Thank you guys for following my story, and of course SomeoneKnew, your comment really made me blush. Thank you! And for all you silent readers, do share your thoughts. :) See ya!

Confession Number 3: What You See Isn't Always Everything

Defense Against The Dark Arts.

That was the last class they had before they could get to their free time. Technically, it was the class that was hindering him from finally working on the cabinet. It wasn't going to be fun. Draco knew that, but it was just the one month since he had gotten here, and he needed to get this stress off of him. He spent the whole night reading about that blasted thing, and all he needed was to refurnish it... but how? That was the question that he was desperately searching an answer for. He could do this. He sighed running a hand through his hair, he found himself sighing a lot these days.

Pansy and Blaise were helping him in a way. They knew a bit about the Vanishing Cabinet, and they also knew about his task to murder the Headmaster. No matter how much he wanted to refuse their help, they were trying. Books were received, all about that stuff, and he sometimes even found them reading and discussing about it, but that wasn't the reason that he was thankful for. It was because that even in the circumstances he was in, they still managed to get a few chuckles out of him. They still helped him relax, and even Blaise was helping him with a few essays he never bothered to do (that still didn't stop him from failing still).

The corners of his lips inched him to a smile as he twirled the quill between his fingers.

Professor Snape trudged into the room and the loud snickers and cheers from the Gryffindors became silent. His beady eyes scanned the class before he flicked his wand, and the books that were in their bag sprang out to their table. "You will be partnering with each other for a... project–an essay if you must on the three Unforgivable Spells. You must give me a parchment for each about the consequences that would happen and a few spells that could be nearly as similar as the Unforgivables."

A partner. Good.

If it was a Slytherin, they could do it for him. Maybe if he was actually lucky, Blaise might even be his partner... and that would give him absolutely free time to work in the cabinet more. Draco was about to give a sigh of relief when his Head of House decided to say the names, "Potter and Weasley, Longbottom and Parkinson, Flint and Zabini, Nott and Patil, Granger and Malfoy..." That was it. The other names faded to the back of his mind when he heard his name and Granger's. The Slytherin Prince groaned and placed his hands on his face, not even bothering to notice the pitying glances from his housemates and the heated glares from Saint Potter and Weasel.

"I expect you to do well," Professor Snape sneered. "This is a very important essay, one that requires both of you to work together. I do not expect you to take this lightly. Now, take a seat beside your partner."

"Sorry, mate," Blaise whispered as he slipped out of his seat.

Bloody fucking hell... Granger was going to be his partner. The bloody mudblood was going to be helping him with this project. Draco wouldn't really care much as she was the smartest witch her age, but she hated his guts. She could fail this project and still get an O at the end of the year. He, however, it didn't even look like his grades could survive a month. He cursed silently at the thought. Draco stiffened when he felt someone sit beside him, and the smell of strawberries made him feel particularly woozy. "Ever heard of strawberry overdose, Granger?" He spat and his nose crinkled.

Her eyes narrowed, "For your information, it was Ginny's fault," she responded hotly, crossing her arms. "Ever heard of not insulting people, Malfoy?"

"Technically, it's the truth. Then again, what the Weaselette did was a good call too, don't want the muddy scent to get to me," Draco sneered. Oh yes, the project was going to go incredibly well, he could imagine.

"Ms. Granger, I'd expect better from you in joining the banter with Mr. Malfoy. Five points from Gryffindor," he spoke dryly and color flooded her cheeks. She gripped the textbook that she was holding, and she tried to hide herself in those curly hair of hers. Draco struggled to not snicker in front of his favorite professor, but seeing how embarrassed Granger was, it was hard. When he walked away, she turned and shot him a glare.

"Thanks a lot, Malfoy," she spat before giving a sigh. "Look, I don't like this anymore than you do, but I'm going to be mature about it and work it out. What time are you free?"

"Are you asking me out, Granger?"

The Gryffindor spluttered slightly and the blush brightened into a vibrant shade of red. Suits her house color if he must say. "No!" she hissed. "I would never ask an arrogant prat like you. I was just asking that because we needed to see each other to work on our project. Now, what time?"She looked ready to charge at him.

"Well, you could've just said so." He leaned back on his seat while Granger slammed the parchment on his desk.

"What. Time." She said through gritted teeth.

He sighed, "Tomorrow, after Herbology. We have free period, am I right?" she nodded. "There. Now, would you please stop harassing me?"

"You're a git."

"Well, do you really expect me to be charming to a bitch?"

Draco was surprised that no one was paying attention to what they were shooting at each other. But when he looked around, it seemed that a few partners weren't really going too well. Hell, he could even see a Gryffindor already pulling out a wand. Granger glared at him, and a smug look started to form in her face, "True that," she said. "But do you really expect me to be kind to a guy who had his father thrown in Azkaban?"

He froze. He wasn't really expecting the insult to come so fast, nor was he expecting it to hurt so much... from a mudblood. He frowned, and his grey eyes darkened in a stormy shade. "Oh, yes, bring my father into this, why don't you?" his face was passive, but from his voice, it was like a knife cutting through the tension. "Is it that hard to find any faults in me that you have to bring my father into the conversation?" he snorted. "Well, couldn't expect anything better from a mudblood."

Silence had intervened them.

Draco didn't bother to comment now. He hated her–despised her every being. That was the thing about Gryffindors, they always brought up their family background and try to find something to fault them with it, as if the person was just like his parents–as if he was just like his father. He wasn't... He wouldn't be like him. He seethed silently. When they bring their parents into this, the Gryffindor would laugh and clap each other in the back, but when they did it, all they would receive was a punch from the victim or even maybe detention. Because technically, Slytherin was the 'evil' house. And they thought prejudice was far gone in their dictionary.

He sneered.

Before Granger could speak up, Snape had already said, "You may go now."

And he shot up from his seat and stalked off.

"Hey!" He turned to see Pansy running towards him. Blaise was nowhere near sight, probably working on the project by himself. "Are you alright?"

"Fine."

"I heard what the mudblood said," Pansy shook her head in disgust. "The nerve of her. Are you going to work on the cabinet?" She changed the subject, noticing the way the blond Slytherin had tensed his shoulders at the mention of Granger.

"Yes."

She looked at him calculatingly, "You got one whole year, Draco. Couldn't you just sit down and relax?" When he shook his head, she tapped her foot. "You could fix that cabinet, but you obviously couldn't do that if you're going to be zombie like and be an arse like that."

That's when he looked at her, finally looked at her up and down. Pansy's dark eyes glazed at him, but there was a hint of concern in those deep abyss. The emotionless mask was gone from her face, and it held worry and... frustration. "What do you want me to do?" He asked, throwing his hands up in the air. It was a good thing they were near the dungeon, so nobody could hear them. "Technically, my mother is acting like a bloody puppet. My dad is in Azkaban. And now I'm in the Dark Lord's mercy. Disobey him? Die. Follow him? Later on get killed. Fail? Die. Either way, I die. My mother die. My father die. So tell me... what. do. you. want. me. to. do?"

When she went silent, he crossed his arms. "That's what I thought."

He was about to walk off when she grabbed his arm. She opened his hand and slipped him a package. "There's a curse in this necklace. Let it touch Dumbledore, and he'd die." She didn't say another world before she strolled off with hands in her pockets before turning back to Draco. "Oh, and Drake, you must be quite stressed out to be affected by Granger's words. I know you dislike your father."

"I just don't like people pointing out my family's flaws," he muttered.

But the curly brunette still didn't left his mind.

And he hated it.