A/N: I just wanted to mention that I'm using a lot of stuff from the books, movies, and videogames (old and new). The movies have interesting details, the books have some really funny happenings, and the videogames show off a lot of the castle's interior design. So if you find something odd that you don't remember, it's probably from one of those three places. :) hope you're still enjoying the flashbacks; they're almost done I promise. I can't wait for what we'll get into next.

October 1995

Ancient Runes was one of Hermione's favorite classes. The only downside to it was that she shared it with Draco Malfoy, who had, by unfortunate luck for both parties, become her seat partner. This meant that they had to work together on some assignments in class and, occasionally, larger week long projects.

Today was their fourth day together on their first project. The tone set from the very beginning was that each one would do the work on their own and then cross-reference. This seemed to work well so far and meant they had to interact less. Hermione found that Draco was a quiet study partner, though there were times when he got frustrated and played the "woe is me" act. She usually ignored this and let him whine.

He was in the middle of one of his quiet tantrums when she finally felt her resolve snap.

"Malfoy!" She hissed. "Shut your bloody trap, and, instead of bitching and moaning, figure out why there's a discrepancy in our work!" He stared at her in shock before his brow crinkled tightly.

"You're vulgar," he said simply.

"And you're a baby," she responded, turning her eyes back down at their parchments in front of her. They always duplicated their own work and passed the copy to the other so they could look over both sets of answers at the same time.

"Who taught you to curse like that, Granger? Your parents? Wouldn't surprise me, what with being muggles-"

"Sod off! My parents would sooner disown me than hear that language come out of my mouth. Either learn something truthful about muggles or stop. Talking." She emphasized the last two words. He watched her closely.

"Tell me about them then."

"What?" It was her turn to stare at him.

"Tell me something about them. Something truthful that I don't know, because I happen to think everything I know is true." He leaned back, crossing his arms across his chest. She twirled her quill between two fingers.

"Okay. What's one thing you believe about them? Let's see if I can debunk that 'truth'."

"Muggles throw their bodily waste out their windows into the street," he stated smugly, daring her silently to contradict him. She placed a hand to her forehead, willing away the rising anger at his attitude.

"Malfoy, that was literal centuries ago, before plumbing was invented. Now, muggles have toilets and whatnot to take care of their waste. Just like us," she said slowly, watching his face. His eyebrow crinkled again.

"What, how?"

"Plumbing was a muggle invention that wizards took in and expanded on to create the system we use today. For us, everything goes through the pipes into a chamber where the charms there vanish whatever enters, but muggles have specific facilities for dealing with and containing the waste. They're not too different from us." She glanced down at the papers again. "Also, I think I figured it out."

"What?" He sounded almost dazed, like he was still trying to wrap his head around what she'd said about plumbing.

"The runes. You misspelled 'eihwaz' as 'ehwaz' so the rune itself is different, as is the meaning. Also, I added an extra line to 'thurisaz' and accidentally made it 'raido'." She pulled his papers close to her, circling the mistakes on the parchment, before sliding it back so he could see.

"Oh. Thanks, Granger," he said absentmindedly, reading over the work again. She stared at his bent head, shocked still at his gratitude. With a sharp intake of breath, she shook her head and turned back to the translation at hand.

December 1995

"What are you reading?" Draco spoke quietly as he slid into the seat in front of her. Hermione froze, fingers tightening on the page she held so it crinkled. She smoothed it out before responding.

"Doubling Down: How To Escape Perilous Situations," she said coolly. He crinkled his brow at her.

"Is that a defense book?"

"Yes," her tone was clipped.

"You don't approve of Umbridge's approach?" He was searching, she could tell. Putting her chin in the air, she turned a page without answering. "It would seem you're not the only one."

This gave her pause. Was he saying…?

"What do you mean?" She decided to ask.

"You're not the only one who disagrees with what she's doing," he stated calmly, meeting her gaze head on.

"What are you on about, Malfoy?" Her chest tightened. He was a member of the Inquisitorial Squad, he couldn't possibly disagree with Umbridge...could he?

"I'm just stating a fact, Granger. I'm not stupid," he scoffed. "Mind if I stay for a bit?" He gestured to the table. Her eyes felt tight as she stared him down.

"Why would you stay?"

"You're not a bad study partner," he turned his head down as he dug through his bag. "I'm tired of Pansy always bothering me when I'm trying to work."

"And what makes you think you're not bothering me?" Her voice felt thin in exasperation. He glanced up at her behind the fringe that fell over his eyes.

"Am I?" He asked pointedly.

"Yes."

"Hm. Seems we've reached an impasse then." He stared her down, his eyes hardening. "What, you with your defense book, me with the power to dock you points if I so choose…"

"Dock points all you'd like, Malfoy. I'd rather not be spending my time with someone who's oblivious to a very real danger. You're choosing to flaunt around school with your 'special power' over everyone and ignoring the threat to our existence," she was seething at this point. When he had joined the Inquisitorial Squad, she'd ignored him more than usual in Ancient Runes. He had prodded her elbow with his quill when they were supposed to be working together, but she had simply shoved it away and did the work by herself. Afterwards, she'd pushed her paper into his and let him copy any of her answers if he needed them. She wasn't entirely mean spirited.

"But, of course, I shouldn't expect you to understand what it means to have Voldemort return-" his eyes blazed when she said his name. "-what, with your special pure blood and whatnot."

"You know, I think twenty points from Gryffindor would be suitable right about now," Draco hissed back at her.

"Go for it, take the whole lot if you wish. I'm going to my common room to study alone. Have fun with Pansy," she spat out, collecting her things and stomping out of the library, leaving him at the table breathing heavily.

February 1996

Goosebumps crawled up her arms and the back of her neck as she stood waiting for the moving staircase to stop at her floor. She shook it off, and climbed the steps when they finally rumbled to a stop. When she reached the sixth floor, she stepped off the stairs and headed for the secret passage she knew led to just outside the Room of Requirement; however, when she turned a corner, she saw a blonde head out of the corner of her eye. The prickling feeling resumed. Quietly, she ducked behind a statue and waited. Draco ducked his head around the corner, looking for her, but when he didn't see her, he stepped out into the hallway visibly irritated.

"Why are you following me?" Hermione stepped out from her hiding spot. Draco noticeably flinched and sneered at her.

"What are you up to, Granger?" His voice was harsh. She stared him down, arms crossed over her chest.

"If you must know, I'm headed to the East Wing to study for a bit," she lied, sticking her nose in the air. He met her eye, silent for a few seconds.

"I'll accompany you then. Shall we?" He gestured for her to go ahead. Her blood ran cold. He really was a piece of work. Straightening her shoulders, she strode determinedly towards the East Wing. With a sinking feeling in her chest, she realized she'd miss out on D.A. today. Her wand hand twitched towards where it was stowed in her robe pocket. She could just hex him and disappear into the secret passage, but then he would probably just follow her and find out where she was actually going. Best to keep him preoccupied then. What she would give to hex the entire Inquisitorial Squad…

"So, why's the Golden Girl headed to the East Wing to study? Potty and Weasel asking you to write their papers again? Trying to avoid them, are you?" He started, a glint in his eye.

"It's quieter there. The suits of armor make people feel uneasy, so no one likes to be there." She wasn't lying then and avoided his other questions. The dozen suits lined against two walls stood guard over the large space, watching for any misdeeds. Portraits lined the walls but none of them spoke, leaving the crackling fire the only sound in the entire room. Hermione, however, found solace in the room even with its quiet and imposing occupants.

"You'd rather the East Wing than the library? Really?" He picked up pace, ducking his head to look at her face behind the curls that framed it. She nodded even though, while she liked the East Wing's solitude, the library remained her favorite place in the entire castle. "You're an odd one."

"The same could be said about you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Jumping at the chance to accompany me to study? What's that about? One might say you have a bit of a crush, what with all the time you've been spending following me around," she goaded. He flushed and she watched him with a curious eye as he looked straight ahead, hands in his pockets.

"I don't have a crush - why would I, on a Mudblood of all things…" his voice trailed off, his jaw tightening as if he regretted what he had just said. There was a hollow being buried in her chest but he continued. "You're one of those that needs to be kept an eye on. You lot are always up to something."

Hermione remained silent as they entered the East Wing. She chose the table closest to the fire and settled in the large chair sat at it. Draco chose to sit across from her, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back. She rummaged through her bag; she'd already done all of her homework, but she needed to do something to get him off her case. She racked her brain for a class they didn't have together, one he wouldn't know the coursework for and thus couldn't prove that she wasn't really studying.

Muggle Studies. It was obvious, he would never stoop so low as to take Muggle Studies. They shared every other class but that one. She pulled out her textbook, Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles, and a roll of parchment. Next she grabbed her quill and inkwell, organizing the objects on the table.

She flipped through a couple chapters, finally landing on public transportation. Heaving a sigh, she pulled her parchment closer to her and dipped her quill into the ink. Before she could write, Draco opened his mouth. Apparently, being a quiet study partner was only true when he was also working.

"What are you sighing about, Granger? I thought studying was a turn on for you."

"Really, Malfoy?" She stared at him.

"Really. I figured it was the only way you got off."

"Well, you'd be wrong about that," she sniped. "It's none of your business, but I didn't sleep well last night; I'm exhausted."

"Then why study? Go to bed," he said, the crinkle in his eyebrow making her fingers twitch.

"You know, you're right. Besides, I can't study very well in your presence. You irritate me."

"Pack your things, Granger, I'm walking you back," he glared at her. "Can't keep an eye on you if I don't."

"I'm sorry, what?" She blinked.

"I'm walking you back; let's go," he gestured for her to hurry up. Still dazed, she slowly gathered her things together and stood. She followed him out of the East Wing.

She led him down the hallway past the moving staircase to a rotunda where the stairs to the seventh floor curved around and up. They started up the staircase in silence. Hermione's feet felt like lead and her bones ached as she thought about her companion. How strange it was to be escorted by Draco Malfoy. They arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady. Draco stood there, watching her carefully. She glanced at the portrait and then back at him.

"You're barmy if you think I'm going to just say the password in front of you," she hissed at him. He met her eyes firmly.

"Go to bed, Granger. Merlin knows you need it." With that, he turned on his heel and walked off, hands in his pockets. She watched him go, eyes round and chest heaving with burning breaths. He was so hot and cold constantly; she couldn't keep up.

"Felix Felicis," she muttered to the Fat Lady, who swung the portrait open wide. Hermione glanced back once before climbing through.

September 1996

Hermione shuffled aside the old newspapers, huffing at the articles that meant nothing. Harry wouldn't let her near the book so she had little to go on besides the mention of "the half-blood prince". Her frustration with him only grew the more he cheated his way through class.

She stood, irritated and impatient, diving back into the stacks for another potions book. She had been thumbing through whatever she could find, desperate to find any notes similar to what was in Harry's book. Her fingers dusted across the spines as she walked.

Suddenly on a shelf just above her head, the worn spine of a book titled, Brewing with Boundaries, caught her eye. She stretched an arm up, fingers just grazing the bottom of the spine. No problem, she'd just go grab her wand from her bag and come back to get it.

Before she could move, an arm swung past her face to grab the book. Quickly, she swiveled to find herself face to face with Draco. His eyes were burning, but she couldn't tell if it was from amusement or indignation. He turned the book towards his face, tearing his eyes away from her to read the title.

"Reading for pleasure or to get a one-up on Potter, Granger?" He drawled, looking back down at her. His chin rested just at her temple and she fought the urge to stand on her tiptoes. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"It's none of your business, Malfoy," she quipped back. She reached for the book, but he held it above his head.

"Ah, ah, Granger. That isn't how we speak to our superiors." He tsked, lowering his arm slightly.

"I know you aren't talking about yourself," she sneered. Once again, she reached for the book, hiking herself up on her tiptoes finally. He held it back up out of her reach and stepped backwards.

"Well, it seems I'm the one in power here, so it's only right that I'm the superior in this situation."

"That right, Malfoy?" She took advantage of his lax posture. Placing her hands on his chest, she slammed him into the shelf behind him. He dropped the book, staring at her in shock. She leaned in, her nose inches from his chin as she looked up at him. "Who's the one in power now?"

His cheeks flushed pink, and she blinked. Her hands felt the fast pace of his heartbeat beneath his uniform and she dug her fingers into his shirt before dropping to the floor, scooping up the book, and darting back to her table, heart pounding. He didn't follow.

November 1996

"Interesting scents, Granger," Draco's drawl was slower than usual, tight and pinched. "Freshly mown grass? Really?"

"And what exactly did you smell then, Malfoy?" She huffed, turning to face him in the potions cupboard. She had come to gather the ingredients for the calming draughts they were making. He leaned up against a shelf, his arms crossed.

"What's it matter to you?" His face was pale, more than usual. The beginnings of dark circles hung under his eyes.

"You're so interested in mine. What's the harm in telling me yours?" She grabbed the valerian root and turned to grab the peppermint.

"Ink." She stilled at his words but didn't say anything, silently pressing him to go on. "Like when writing an essay. Rain - cold, not warm. And spiced apples, like in cider and pastries."

"Interesting," she repeated his earlier sentiment.

"So, Granger," he passed a hand through his hair, looking at the ground instead of at her. She refrained from reaching for the skullcap leaves; she didn't want to keep him from what he was about to say. "Any of your scents remind you of someone?"

"Not quite," she answered truthfully, though she didn't know why. "I thought maybe...but it's not, I don't think. Though I could be wrong."

"That'd be a riot," he huffed out a laugh. "Hermione Granger being wrong. No one's seen it yet." Her heart pounded tight in her chest.

"What are you doing in here, Malfoy?"

"Getting my ingredients." He finally looked up to stare her down. "So if you'll excuse me…" He pointed to the shelf behind her. She shook her head, before moving out of his way. Sighing, she reached for the skullcap leaves.

February 1997

Dinner was far from being over, but in order to escape Cormac, Hermione ducked out of the Great Hall and headed towards the second floor. From there she caught the moving staircases up to the sixth floor, her bag swinging from her shoulder. The weight was pulling at the muscles in her shoulder and she slipped her wand out to cast a featherless weight charm.

"Oh, Granger?" She looked up to find Draco inches from her. With a start, she stepped back.

"Malfoy, what are you doing?" Her hand was pressed to her chest as her pulse started to pick up pace. He motioned at the tapestry he was half standing out of.

"I obviously didn't see you standing in the way of my exit," he said. His voice sounded strained, like he'd been screaming. Hermione stepped further back to give him room to step out fully. Still standing so close to him, she noticed the wrinkles around his eyes as well as the purple bags making his sockets seem deeper than usual.

"What's wrong with you?" She asked. The muscle in his temple twitched.

"What does it matter?"

"You look like you got beat by a troll."

"Nice, Granger, really lifts a bloke's spirits."

"Well you do," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What are you up to? Isn't it Valentine's day? I thought you and McLaggen would be all over each other this late in the evening."

"I'm actually avoiding him. I was headed to the East Wing - he won't think to look for me there. Besides, shouldn't you be wrapped up in Pansy?"

"Pansy doesn't do it for me," he said tightly. "And what, McLaggen doesn't get you off the way you like? What a shame," he drawled but there was no venom in his tone.

"I've never given him the chance, nor will I ever." She glanced towards the moving staircase. "I should probably get going though, he might be on his way back to the common room by now and I really don't feel like fighting off any advances."

"Has he touched you? Without you wanting him to?" The hard tone in his voice had her looking back at him. His eyes were narrowed.

"What's it matter to you, Malfoy?"

"I may be a right prick sometimes but I'm not a creep," he scoffed, crossing his own arms and leaning on the stone wall behind him.

"No, you just happen to talk about my sex life more than I do," she muttered.

"What?"

"What?" She repeated.

"You have a sex life?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but you sure seem interested in it regardless. You're always making little comments. And you call me vulgar…" She trailed off. "I should get going. I'd really rather not deal with him, or you, any more than usual tonight."

"Granger." He had pushed off from the wall, grabbing her wrist. "You didn't answer my question. Has he touched you?" She took in the expression on his face; it was lax and his eyes seemed clouded.

"No."

"Best be off then. Safe travels," he said quietly, letting her go and heading to the moving staircase. She watched him leave, his hand pushing back his hair as he started down the steps.

May 1997

Hermione tried to steady her breathing as she slinked down the hallway to the Infirmary. She had stolen the Invisibility Cloak from Harry and had made her way down the stairs to where she stood now, hand pressed flat against the door of the Infirmary. She breathed in deeply before releasing it, pushing open the door carefully. The beds were all empty, save but one.

Quietly, she managed to make it to the bedside of the pale boy, more ashen than usual. She pulled the cloak off, placing it on the chair. Carefully, she poked Draco's cheek. His eyebrows crinkled and he murmured in his sleep. She poked him a few more times until he was rubbing his eyes and struggling to sit up.

"Salazar's sake, Pansy, I said to leave me alone-" His mouth shut with a click of his teeth when he saw his visitor. "What are you doing here?"

"I came on Harry's behalf," she answered and his eyebrows drew close together, lips turning downward.

"Came to finish the job then? Go on, I'd rather it be sooner than later," he muttered, turning away from her.

"No, no, that's not what I meant. I came to apologize-" He glanced back at her. "I know Harry feels terrible, but I also know that he wouldn't be able to drag himself here to apologize face to face. He didn't know what that spell did; he didn't mean for it to happen."

"Well, it did, Granger." He finally pulled himself upright and out of the blankets. She stifled a gasp at the sight of his bandaged chest. Without thinking, she reached a hand out. His hand shot out to grab her wrist. "Hermione. Don't."

They stared at each other for what felt like hours but couldn't have been more than a minute. His face was loose and his eyes clouded over. Her heart felt as if it was beating impossibly fast but in slow motion at the same time. He'd said her name; why? Slowly, he released the grip on her wrist and she drew her hand back.

"I think you should leave," he said quietly. Hermione nodded, grabbed the cloak, took one last look at him, and walked out.