Here's another update! I made it a tiny bit longer than before, so I hope you like it! Do share me your thoughts, as I would love to hear them. What do you think of Draco and Hermione? What about the friendship between Pansy, Blaise, and Draco? Tell me :) Thank you!

Confession Number 7: There's A Reason For Everything

Hogsmeade was near.

Draco and Pansy had been pale and sweaty day by day. None had commented. None had mocked them for it. Then again, there were a handful of Slytherins who were also shivering in fear in the next four days. Blaise tried to cheer them up by his sardonic humor or his blunt honesty, but he also wasn't putting the best face today. His mother had just become a widow again, and rumors were flying off the roof on how she had managed to kill him off this time. All in all, none of them were having a good day. It was a good thing that there was a Quidditch Match that they could look forward to–Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff. Maybe he and Pansy could finally report something good to the Dark Lord... Maybe he could finally kill Dumbledore, without touching a piece of his hair!

"I don't know why we need to go. It's obvious who'd win," Pansy scowled at the blond, staying put.

The Italian sighed, "Come on, Parkinson, don't be a git and just get on with it. Something to get your mind off of it, why not?"

The scowl hadn't disappeared from her face, but she finally trudged out of the Common Room with both men beside her. "I don't need something to get my mind off to," she said. "I need something to look forward to–Dumbly's death. That's the solution to all our problems."

"Come off it, he'd be dead by the end of the year because of that arm. Dunno why I have to rush it," Draco muttered darkly. Since his father was already thrown to prison, there was no stopping the Dark Lord from making him drop on the floor and scream in torture. Though his father wasn't the best father in the world, at least he was bearable. Damn Potter. If he really could be the fucking key to his death, he might as well do it right away. For someone who could be described as selfless, he was selfish to the unwilling death eaters. Potty 2.0. Letting people die for him year by year.

Blaise raised his eyebrows, "Don't let the professors hear you. Wouldn't want them to check everything he gets and let them die in the process."

The other two smirked.

"Ah... if only."

"Let them die for all I care."

"I don't know why I became best mates with two sadistic Slytherins," he scoffed. "Think you imperiused me?"

Pansy was about to answer before a voice had interrupted her. "Don't let the pretty face fool yourself, Zabini. Merlin knows that you're equally sadistic and cunning, maybe even more, than they are." They turned around to see dark chestnut eyes that belonged to Theodore Nott.

"Ah, Nott, what a pleasure to see you again. Tell me, do you have a habit in insulting me or have you fallen for my charm?" The Italian frowned up at him, crossing his arms.

Theo sneered, "Your charm could equal to the charm of a Giant Squid."

Smirking, he chuckled. "I'm sure the Giant Squid was known for charming witches in his past life then."

They didn't give him time to answer before pushing past the burly man. Blaise's and Nott's relationship had a few bumps on them... that would be the biggest understatement in the century. Draco rolled his eyes at the thought. Ever since his mom had slept with Theo's father back in third year, things had never been the same between them. Rivalries were a dangerous thing to have in the Slytherin House, because there are times when grudges could lead to something more than that. That was why he never bothered to intervene unless things get rough.

"This is one crappy day," Blaise mused. "Run in to Nott. Detention tonight. Gryffindor Winning. Dunno which is worse."

"Try putting 'studying with the mudblood', and we'd all know the answer to that," Pansy butted in, giving the blond sixth year a pitying glance. "Poor you."

"Mud's nothing compared to the blood that we'll soon be losing in Hogsmeade," Draco muttered, but he knew that both his friends could hear him. To his relief, they were now silent.

They didn't bother to eat breakfast. Instead, they rushed to the Quidditch Field to see almost every student in every single house were staring wide eyed at nothing but green grasses. The game still hadn't started yet then. Draco smirked, and his hand fidgeted when they find themselves a seat right in the back to watch the scene full view. "You think Potter's just going to catch the snitch quickly?" Pansy asked, her tone bored as the Quidditch Players sat on their brooms, determination written all over their faces. "Make this game over quick."

"If only. I see that the Gryffindors don't have a sense of originality." he observed.

Draco turned his attention to the song that were coming from the red and gold. "WEALSEY IS OUR KING. WEASLEY IS OUR KING..." Scoffing, he shook his head, "I'm surprised you notice that now, and I thought you were the observant one in this lot."

"Ah, but the facts need to be repeated unless one of us would forget," Blaise smirked back at him, but that smirk quickly died down when he heard words behind them.

"That Zabini?"

"Yeah, mate. Saw his mother dallying with my father back then."

"What a whore."

The Italian paled, turning around to see who had said them. Turned out they were just third years, and with their bulky form and their snotty attitude, they didn't seem to know what'd happen if they mess with the Silver Trio. Pansy was the first one to speak, smiling sickly sweet a the two boys, "Watch your words, sweetie, you might not like the ending if you don't shut your traps." Her tone held a hint of malice, but they merely stared back at them, not intimidated.

"I'm just saying the truth," one grinned boldly.

"Yeah."

Draco snorted, his grey eyes narrowed at them calculatingly. They were... ah! "Jones and Kalis?" He questioned, and when the two nodded, it was his turn to grin. "I'd be careful if I were you, spouting lies like that. I may not know Blaise's mother like my best mate over here, but I know her well enough to know that she has standards."

Pansy tossed her hair haughtily, "Jones and Kalis, huh?" she said, her voice acidic. "I'd be careful if I were you. Daddy's not going to like it if he sees the sons of those bastard fools defying me."

Jones and Kalis paled considerably. "You're Pan–Pansy Parkinson?" Jones stuttered out that the Slytherin Prince couldn't help but snicker.

"How about I make a deal?" Pansy cocked up an eyebrow and the two nodded immediately, looking like broken bobbleheads. "You apologize to Blaise here and don't ever show your faces to us again or I'll make sure your fathers would be thrown out of their jobs before they could even utter a word." Her eyes flashed at them dangerously and the two Slytherin third years immediately said their sorry's and ran off, probably back to the Common Room.

Blaise shook his head, "Great, you scared the lot of them."

"What's the use of being a Parkinson if you don't threaten your status to protect your best mates?" Pansy then scrunched her nose. "Ugh. Now I sound like a bloody Gryffindor. Fuck you, Zabini."

They were interrupted by cheers that the Gryffindors were making.

It was all set to stone.

"Yes!"

It was time for stage two.

"I'm guessing you worked on the Cruciatus Curse?" That was the first sentence she had said when she sat down. She gave him a cautious smile, crossing her legs as she did so. When he nodded and handed her the papers, she gave a sigh of relief and slumped back to the chair. "Sorry, it's just that I'm so used to working with Ronald that I was expecting that you wouldn't do yours too and wait for me to do it."

As if by instinct, Draco sneered at her, "Don't compare me to the weasel, Granger."

"It's surprising how the both of you could be so alike," she sighed. "Anyways, have you read any more books other than Romeo and Juliet?" She talked to him as if the 'mudblood' thing had never happened, as if they weren't enemies for five damn years. As if noticing his expression, she said, "What?"

"Why are you nice?"

Hermione hesitated before a smile bloomed in her lips, "We're working on a project. You've been pretty much civil to me, so I guess, why not right? 'Sides, we share the same hatred for Romeo and Juliet, so I think we're fine."

She was hiding something.

It didn't need to take him time to think to say that. She was fidgeting at every glance he had given her, and there was a hint of fear lying in her eyes for him to see. Draco had two options in mind. He could call her out of it and they could be back to normal (which would be quite a relief because the way she was acting right now was beyond creepy), or he could let her believe that he 'believe' her and they could get along with each other so he could find out the real reason on why she was acting like this.

As much as he thought this was a bloody burden, he plastered a grin on his face. "I've read A Tale of Two Cities."

"And how do you like it?"

"Alright, I guess. Sydney is quite the character," Draco chuckled.

"Isn't he?" She then proceeded into a bit of a rant about the Sydney, throwing her hands up in the air every so often with eyes filled with passion for the character they were talking about. Her uncontrollable hair sparked in the midst of the rant to which he shook his head at. This was the first time he had seen her look at him with no malice in her eyes, and he found himself surprisingly relaxed. The mudblood... Granger was actually quite great to get along with.

"Do you have any books to recommend me?"

Draco's eyebrows shot up in the air. "As much as I would love to recommend you a few of my books," he said dryly. "I don't think you would love the topics with Blood Supremacy being the main plot."

"Why do you support Blood Supremacy?" That question threw him off, but what hit him right out was that there was no mocking tone in her voice, just curiosity. "I mean there are loads of good muggle borns and half blood all around... I mean, isn't that a bit close minded of you lot?"

Hmm... How was he going to explain this all to a mudblood?

Ahh... the fucking irony.

"Let me ask you with another question," he suggested and Granger nodded her head. "Why do you think?"

"Because you believe muggles steal your magic and the fact that you're afraid of something new? At least, that's what I get the gist from what Molly said." Draco laughed and Hermione glared at him. "What?" she snapped.

"For someone who's never, ever wrong, you sure do know how to make one laugh with horrible errors."

"Explain."

"Salem Witch Trials," he said the words slowly for her to understand. "That's the reason. Granger, as much as I would love to tell a story about mudbloods and blood traitors and muggles, I'm not in the mood, so just solve it all with your know-it-all brain and figure it out yourself." He stood up.

"Wait!" Hermione looked at him with eyes wide in excitement with the information given to her. "Uhrm... Could we meet up next week? I'm finally done with the essays too, so we could piece it all together and pass it to Professor Snape."

"Alright."

"And..." she hesitated once again. "Thank you. I'll research about the witch trials."

Draco rolled his eyes, "For someone who knows both muggle history and wizarding history, I'm surprised you don't know what that meant. Good day, Granger." He was already walking away when he heard a scream of frustration and a string of curse words coming from where he had last sat.

He smirked.

Ah, if there's one hobby he take up over the years and liked it, it had to be annoying Granger.