Draco was lying on the damp grass, his schoolbag transfigured into a cushion behind his head. He bit into the apple which he considered was his lunch. He'd lost the taste for the green ones during his sixth year. Still, he craved the fruit now and then so he'd switched to red prince apples instead. They were sweet and tart, not sour. He liked holding them too; the contrast of the red against his pale skin.

In the distance, he observed Hogwarts, the castle's tall towers, its large stone walls and ramparts. It looked a little like a prison to him now. Although one he much preferred than the real prison he was threatened to be incarcerated in. It loomed over Draco nonetheless, as if it knew to keep a watchful eye on him, even from the Quidditch field. Theo's kitten let out a lazy meow and curled itself into Draco's side.

"Come here Blaise Junior," cooed Theo, who was lying beside Draco on the left, "Blaise-y-kins, come here."

Draco smiled smugly. "Looks like the cat prefers me mate."

"He's my cat."

Blaise scowled. "Can't believe you named your kitten after me."

"But he's just like you," Theo smirked, "look at how much he likes to cuddle, Draco."

Blaise sucked in his cheeks, adjusting his own transfigured bag grumpily. " I liked cuddles when I was twelve," he defended.

Draco laughed, his mouth half-full of apple. "Father almost had an aneurysm that time he walked into my bedroom and saw the three of us sleeping together like sardines."

"I remember that," guffawed Theo. "His face was bloody priceless!"

"Hmmm, he was mightily concerned that my homosexuality would deprive him of an heir."

"You're joking!" cried Blaise. "You never told us that."

Draco sat up and flung the apple core far off and watched it soar through the air, falling in an arc onto the grass. "Most awkward five minutes of my life," he groaned. "Both mother and father sat me down that very morning after you'd both left. They weren't angry, just concerned for the future of the Malfoy bloodline."

"Sounds awful," said Blaise sympathetically.

Looking back upon the memory Draco swallowed down the lump in his throat. "Actually," he said, feeling the thickness in his voice as he spoke. "It was kind of nice… in a weird way. Kept saying how much they loved me." Draco cleared his throat. "Anyway…"

But Theo and Blaise had descended into sullen silence, their eyes upon the skyline. Blaise's eyebrows were furrowed and Theo's eyes were sad. Gently, he reached for Blaise Junior, forcibly removing the fluffy creature from Draco's side and onto his chest. Petting him, Theo said quietly, "Mother used to say I love you all the time."

Blaise's face tightened. "Can't even remember when I saw mum last. She sends postcards though."

Draco lied back on the grass. "Wow," he half-scoffed, half-laughed. "We're a sorry miserable bunch."

"Right," clipped Blaise, all signs of sorrow suddenly vanishing from his face. "Onto merrier things! The Gryffindors are having a party tomorrow night."

"And?" replied Theo disinterestedly.

"And we're crashing it," pronounced Blaise.

Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Good luck with that."

"I said 'we'. Didn't you both hear me use the plural form?"

Draco twisted his expression one of utter disbelief. "Are you off your rocker? I'm not stepping into the lion's den, especially uninvited — and why would I want to?"

"Because," said Blaise empathetically, "there are going to be witches there, lads. Witches of all shapes and sizes. And fire whiskey. Warm tantalizing fire whiskey."

Theo cracked a smile. "You had me at witches."

Draco was suddenly very irritated at his friends for even entertaining such a ludicrous idea. Why would they want to spend time around Gryffindors? Besides, didn't they understand how dire his situation was? Draco had the urge to tell them everything, to list it all out; the death threats, his feelings of invisibility, his odd friendship with Myrtle, the sleepless nights. But he felt it all sounded so pathetic. Especially his forbidden thoughts, the temptation of Hermione Granger's bare shoulder.

The way he felt when he was around her or merely thinking of her; the simultaneous sense of superiority and utter inferiority. And the dread of seeing her again warred with his eagerness to get her alone.

Yes, Draco wanted to tell them everything, yet all he said was, "I can't go."

"Look, if you're worried about Pansy—"

"It's not her I'm worried about," he murmured. "I just can't."

Theo's voice grew hard. "Thomas and Finnigan still giving you a hard time?"

"Suffice it to say, I don't think my presence will be welcome."

"Well, that's the fun of it," chuckled Blaise. "And since when did you care about what other people thought?"

"If you haven't noticed, I'm a little limited with the use of my wand. I can't afford not to care what people think, especially when they attack me."

"Fine," declared Blaise determinedly. "If we can't go to the party, then let the party come to us."

"What does that mean?" asked Theo amusedly.

"Just leave it to me alright? I have a plan."

"Dunno why you're so adamant on going to some Gryffindor party anyway," sneered Draco. "Can't be missing much. They probably sit around in a circle holding hands singing kumbaya, retelling stories of heroism and all that shite."

Blaise was grinning. "All I know is that Romilda Vane will be in attendance, and if there's one thing I know about her, it's that, that witch is up for anything — and I do mean anything."

Draco sighed. "Look I think I'll just sit this one out."

"No," said Blaise in a curt tone that left little room for disagreement. "You're coming. You can't keep hiding underneath your sheets, mate." Before Draco could argue back, Blaise suddenly leaped up. "Shite!" he exclaimed. "I have Quidditch practice in half hour, have to go get changed." And with a small salute he began walking toward the castle leaving Theo and Draco alone.

Blaise Junior raised his head from Theo's chest and gave a quiet purr as if to notify them of Blaise Senior's departure. Theo stroked the kitten's head softly until he relaxed again, curling back up into a ball. "So how's it going with Granger?" he asked suddenly without preamble.

Draco hesitated, eying his friend. "It's not," he finally admitted with great reluctance. "She not only hates me, she's scared to be alone with me."

Theo shrugged. "Come on Draco, just admit when you've been beaten. Blaise really set you up with that."

"No. I refuse to let Blaise get the better of me."

"You know if your parents get wind of this you'll be disinherited."

"Mother will cave, eventually, and father… well I think I could convince him it's in everyone's best interests, and with his appeal coming up, it couldn't hurt to —what?" Theo was staring at him in the oddest way.

"What the hell are you on about, have you gone mad? You're not actually going to date her. It's only a game mate."

Draco sat up, his fingers running through the tall blades of grass and pulling them out. "Well I have to get her to fall in love with me don't I, just how do you presume I do that without actually dating her? And apparently she's not with Weasley anymore. That makes things a little less complicated."

It was a long time before Theo's expression morphed, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips till he was practically grinning from ear to ear. "Oh, I get it," he crooned. "You date the heroine of the hour, make her fall madly in love with you, win the bet and take Blaise's place as Quidditch Captain. Meanwhile, you come off looking all noble, full of repent and pro-Muggle-born. Then," he paused taking a breath before going on, "once the Malfoy name is restored to its former glory, you break up – but make her be the one to do it — ingenious Draco. Two birds, one stone. You haven't lost your touch."

Draco blinked, his eyebrows raised high. It was a cruel plan, but as Theo said, an ingenious one. So why hadn't Draco thought of it? A month ago he would've, but his intentions were so much worse than a conniving publicity stunt.

So he lied. "You know me all too well, mate."

The truth was that he wanted her. He didn't even like her but he was constantly imagining undressing her. He wanted her to use him in ways he had never wanted to use Pansy, despite her always offering so. Draco couldn't stomach the depraved thoughts that came to mind without hearing his fathers voice, reminding him that the Mudblood was inferior to him. Yet in his fantasies, he was slave to her. He was often on his knees, perspiring underneath her as she decided how next to punish him.

And he should be punished. He deserved it.

Hermione was lying on her belly near the hearth. She watched as the low fire twitched and crackled as if it had something to say. The sound of her fellow Gryffindors laughing were mere background noise to the whirlwind of thoughts howling in her head. She was thinking of Ron again, of the letter she had sent to him and of his silence. But there was the other pressing matter of the bet. Her three days had come and gone, and still she hadn't given Zabini and Nott an answer. She was grateful that they were giving her an option to bow out. They hadn't pushed her on the subject either. In fact, in the last few days, she'd only received polite smiles from them in the corridors and during class.

Perhaps her reluctance to tell them her decision was because deep down there was a part of her that was curious enough to say yes; at least enough to wonder if she was capable of getting the Malfoy heir to kiss her. And also, enough to wonder what that kiss would be like. Whether his lips would be cold marble, like kissing a beautiful stone sculpture. And what would happen after their lips left each other? Would she become a statue in turn… hard, cold and unyielding?

Because it would take someone cold-hearted to do what Zabini and Nott were asking her to do. Using a person like that, toying with their emotions just so she could win a bet. The fact that it was Malfoy didn't make it any easier. She still felt guilty at the idea of leading him on. And this was all based on the assumption that Luna was right. That she could lead him on, that after all the years he'd spent hating her, he suddenly liked her.

Luna's word drifted in and out. I don't think he wants to wait till the Christmas ball to kiss you.

Hermione couldn't understand it. Couldn't comprehend Malfoy's behavior toward her the last few days. And if he did want to kiss her, as Luna suggested, she couldn't understand that either. It was unfathomable. Unsettling.

Standing up she made her way out the common room and to the girls dormitory to pen the letter she'd been avoiding.

Dear Blaise and Theo,

Hermione frowned at the piece of parchment in front of her before crumbling it up and taking out a new sheet. Without any formal address she wrote—

I've considered it. My answer is no. I should've never agreed to it in the first place. It's not right leading someone on for a bet. Clearly, I rushed into it without thinking it through.

The nib of the quill pressed into the full stop making the ink run a little. She lifted it off the page decidedly, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. She'd owl it to them later. That night Hermione floated into slumber with the peace of mind that she'd made the right decision. And tomorrow was her birthday after all. She had cake to look forward to.

…

The blindfold was so tight Hermione had little clue as to where her friends were taking her. "So where are we going?" she asked them warily.

They were all giggling. "You'll see," snickered Pavarti. "We're almost there."

Hermione repressed the urge to remove the blindfold and go back to her dormitory. She desperately wanted to crawl into bed and hide beneath the covers all the while wishing Ronald Weasley would grow a tail to resemble the traitorous rat he was.

Earlier in the day he'd surprised her by turning up at Hogwarts for her birthday. She'd been thrilled.

"I'm sorry I didn't write back, I thought this would be better. Besides, if I hadn't come I wouldn't have been able to see your face when you opened my gift."

She'd been grinning from ear to ear. "I love it. Thank you."

"Look, I need to tell you something. I want you to hear it from me before anyone else."

Hermione cleared her throat. "I know about the girl Ron… it's okay."

Ron let out a deep sigh of relief. "Really? Hermione I – I'm really sorry."

"Well it's not like we ever talked about being exclusive–"

"Exactly! I told Harry as much when he saw me with her."

Hermione's brows furrowed. "Harry knows?" she said, while putting the books she'd been gifted on her desk.

"Well yeah, he saw us kissing at his birthday party." Hermione paused, blinking several times. That had been less than two months ago. Much earlier than when she'd received Ron's break up letter.

"I have to run," said Ron cheerily getting up to hug her. He didn't even notice Hermione not hug him back. "Happy birthday Mione."

She gave him a weak smile. After he disapparated, she merely stood there numbly, unable to think over the lound ringing noise in her head.

The blindfold was torn off, jolting her back to the present.

"Oh my—" Her lips split into a wide grin as all her friends chorused "SURPRISE!" She looked around her. The entire room was filled with balloons and floating fairy lights. Happy birthday, Hermione!" There was a large cake in the center although she could barely see it through the throng of people.

Hermione noted that there were students here who she hadn't even met yet. She didn't have time to question it because suddenly she was being passed over from person to person hugging everyone. The room was dark and filled with music. It took her another few minutes to realize that the walls were draped in green and that her party guests were mostly girls. She leaned into Padma, "Are we in the Slytherin common room?" she yelled over the music.

Padma grinned taking a sip of her drink. "Isn't it great!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm going to go get a drink," she yelled back.

Walking through the crowd, she stopped and said hello to a few people she knew. Turns out that the party started without her because almost everyone was already quite drunk. After pouring herself a drink, Hermione made her way to the other side of the room pushing through a small group of Ravenclaw girls, when she accidentally bumped into someone.

"Malfoy!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

Sheepishly he answered, "Blaise said—"

"Oh, Blaise said," she mocked. "Well, I'm sure you go along with everything Blaise tells you to do."

"It's true," grinned the accused, suddenly appearing beside her. "I convinced him to crash this little soiree — but hand to Merlin," he said putting his palm over his heart, "I didn't know it was your birthday, Granger. Otherwise, I'd never have hijacked it."

"I'm a little offended we weren't invited," added Theo who had also suddenly appeared on her other side. "Thought we were all one big happy Hogwarts family now."

"No," clipped Hermione. "We're really not — and anyway, this was a surprise party. I didn't exactly have a hand in choosing the guest list."

Blaise shrugged. "Well, surprise!"

Theo and he both laughed unapologetically, sauntering into the crowd leaving Draco and her behind by the fireplace. She'd come this way because it was a little quieter here but she didn't want to be left alone with him of all wizards.

"Look I'm sorry. Really, I didn't know."

Hermione tried not to cringe. It was the second time Draco Malfoy had apologized to her and it was eerie to hear the words fall from his mouth so easily.

"It's fine," she said after a moment. "Really, I don't care."

"For someone who's meant to be in a celebratory mood, you don't sound it."

Without answering Hermione took a great chug of her drink.

"Does it have something to do with why Weasley was here today?"

She turned to face him fully. "Why are you still here, Malfoy?" she asked, her eyes squinting with suspicion. "This isn't exactly a Pureblood function."

The fire cast dancing shadow over his face, and for a moment she glimpsed the old Draco, his contemptuous countenance just floating underneath the façade of this new Draco. "I do what I like," he growled. And Hermione had to suppress a smile, feeling much more comfortable around the unfriendly version.

"Clearly," she scoffed, under her breath. "When haven't you."

His eyebrows furrowed. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," she said shaking her head.

"Come on then Granger, spit it out."

"Did you tell Professor McGonagall that I had agreed to tutor you?" she asked.

Feigning ignorance, he said, "No, that's odd."

"She's under the impression that I'm helping you with Muggle Studies. She came by today to wish me happy birthday and happened to mention how proud she was of us having overcome our enmity."

"Well, I mentioned that I had read a Muggle book of yours, but—"

"Malfoy…"

"Fine," he clipped. "I might have twisted the truth just a little."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "So do you actually need help with Muggle studies?"

"I'd think the answer would be fairly obvious..."

"Right," she muttered, putting her weight on one foot and then the other, seeming to contemplate something. "There's nothing else?"

Draco scoffed, thanking Merlin he was a talented Occlumens. "What else would there be?" he chuckled avoiding her eyes. Suddenly she had grabbed hold of his arm and began tugging him toward the staircase winding down to the Slytherin dorm rooms.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Tutoring you," she yelled back at him pulling him through the crowd all the way down the stairs and into the nearest bedroom.

"Right," she snapped once the door was closed. Drawing her wand she said, "Lesson the first. Muggles don't have potions like veritaserum, so they tend to learn from an early age when someone is lying. Hint. They never look you in the eye. You're going to tell me the truth, Malfoy, or so help me I'll hex you. And don't feed me any more ridiculous lies, I'm getting tired of them. So Start. Talking."

Malfoy gulped, feeling his Adam's apple bob against the tip of her wand as it dug into his throat. He considered which would be worse. Telling her about the strange fantasies he'd been having or about the bet.

"I already told –"

"I said," growled Hermione digging her wand in more, "no more lies. Does this have something to do with Blaise and Theo? This can't all be a coincidence. You're all conspiring against me to make me look like a fool."

Draco scowled, batting her wand away. "What are you talking about?" he asked earnestly.

"They tried baiting me into making a bet."

"What bet?" demanded Draco.

"Some stupid bet. They said if I got you to kiss me then they would help me with S.P.E.W, legally," she paused, knowing how hideous it sounded, "and financially."

Draco clenched his jaw seeing red. "I see... is that why you agreed to meet me at the club?"

"Maybe," she admitted sheepishly. "You invited me, after all. Are you saying you don't know anything about this?"

"No, I don't."

"They why did you take my book, why lie to McGonagall?"

Draco straightened; his lips a cold line. "The truth is I made a bet with Blaise and Theo too."

"For?"

"For the position of Quidditch Captain."

Hermione crossed her hands, her features hard. "And what did they want you to do?"

Without hesitation, he told her. "I had to get you to fall in love with me."

Her reaction wasn't any of the reactions Draco had expected.

A cruel cold cackle escaped her lips. "And you really thought you could get me to fall in love with you? That's just…" she laughed again. "Merlin Malfoy. All this just so you could be Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team." Hermione walked around him to leave. "You're pathetic."

"Pathetic, am I?" he countered, stopping her in her tracks. "What about you agreeing to kiss a bloke you don't even like for gold? There's only one word for a witch like that."

"I didn't take the bet," she said turning around to face him. "I was going to decline, but you on the other hand–!"

"You were considering it!"

"Hardly!" she growled. "The galleons in all of Gringotts couldn't get me to stoop as low as kissing you Malfoy. I only wanted to save the elves."

"The elves," spat Draco disdainfully. "You're such a whore for them aren't you? Certainly were for Dobby–" Before he knew what was happening, Hermione had slashed her wand in the air, splitting the porcelain skin of his cheek.

His hand came up to touch blood. He stared at his red-tipped fingers, a dangerous thrill rushing through his veins. Hermione was panting, her chest heaving staring him down.

"Come on Granger," he rasped. "You can do better than that."

Her grip on her wand tightened. "Don't test me..."

Draco's lips curled, his cheek stinging as he did so. "I bet you cried for him," he taunted.

She stepped toward him, tears brimming and her hand was shaking uncontrollably.

"Shut up."

The blood had dripped down to his collar, staining his white shirt red. "Would have liked to hear his eulogy–"

"I said shut up!"

"Come to think of it, he's only dead because you were stupid enough to get caught by snatchers."

"I told you to SHUT–" Draco flinched as he felt his other cheek split open. "UP!" He took a deep breath relishing the pain she'd inflicted on his face. His eyes bright, his heart pounding he slowly pulled his wand from his pocket and cast a non-verbal healing charm. Angry tears were flowing down Hermione's cheek, her entire body shaking. When he stepped toward her she didn't move. They were so close to each other, Draco could feel her hot breath on his chin. He lowered his lips to her ear caressing the shell.

"I hope that was as good for you as it was for me, Hermione."

She shoved him away with as much force as she could muster. Her face was twisted in disgust as she finally noticed the lust burning in his eyes. "Stay away from me," she whispered fearfully.

Then she fled the room. Sick to her stomach with what she'd just done.