The Challenge

The Challenge

Part I

A/N: This story is four parts long. I have it done but will be adding bits piece by piece until they are all up and running. Warning: I tend to over-proofread so the story might change slightly in the future if I choose to re-proof yet again. lol. Nothing major, just more perfectionism. Anyway, I do hope you enjoy and constructive criticism is always helpful.


‘I hate not getting what I want.’ Draco thought tetchily.

Upon his appointment to the position of Head Boy, came the pain-in-the-ass Head Girl, Granger.

She was the one girl he couldn’t get to fall head-over-heels for him, thereby making him desire her most; for Malfoy’s never backed down from a challenge and Hermione Granger sure as Hell was a challenge.

Now, as to how to succeed at this particular challenge.

For the first time in his life, Draco had truly no idea how to possess this particular achievement in his collection. There were so many things working against him.

Including, but not limited to:
His father’s support of Voldermort.
The assumption that he voluntarily followed in his father’s footsteps.
And:
his slightly arrogant attitude.

Ya, he was screwed.

There must be some way.

He retreated to the Slytherin Common Room to immerse himself in thoughts of his newest attempt at conquest.

Perhaps the working together that is bound to occur this year will serve as motivation for her feelings to shift? The optimistic and most likely implausible thought crosses his mind.

And, although he knew this method to surely fail, due to the last several months of head duties hadn't changed their feelings in the slightest, he gave an effort at it nevertheless.

For three whole weeks, he watched the progress of their meetings; only noticing an increase in the quantity of their bickering, as well as the volume of their...interactions.

After the three weeks of monitoring their meetings had come and gone with no noticeable improvements; only declinations, he realized that even his mischievous and cunning Malfoy mind was possibly incapable of finding a solution to his current problem and the end of the school year was fastly approaching.

So, his next (and last) resort was to act...nice (he nearly chocked on the word).

But Draco was no fool. He knew that Granger would look at him as if he were the newest exhibit in that oaf, Hagrid’s, class when she heard him speak in anything other than his usual drawl with a fancy sneer to accompany it.

But it was worth a shot.

“Hermione?” He called out upon his entrance to the Head’s shared common room.

Granger’s head peaked out from her favorite over stuffed, Gryffindor red chair, with a perplexed expression.

“Yes, Malfoy?” She questioned as she loosely held her current book in her hand.

“I was hoping I could beg for your assistance on our Transfiguration homework.” The words were physically, not to mention, emotionally painful to express and were followed with precisely what he had expected.

Granger sported an expression of both bewilderment and utter disapproval.

What she was disapproving this week, he hadn’t a clue. She seems angered at him for something new and different each day; sufficient justification or not.

“Why, pray tell, would you, pureblooded git Malfoy, want me, mudblood know-it-all Granger, to help you in any way?”

“You answered your own question, Hermione.” He added an emphasis on her first name in hopes of striking her fancy. “You are a know-it-all, self-proclaimed or not; you are quite intelligent. I was hoping to borrow said intelligence for a mere hour or so.” Draco made his way through the room, taking the green seat closest to hers and keeping direct eye contact constantly.

“I suppose.” She replies with a skeptical sigh.

Granger tells him to wait a moment as she goes to collect her undoubtedly detailed notes.

During her absence, Draco made his way to the Gryffindor love seat that conveniently seats two and only two.

He foolishly assumed that, upon her re-entrance with her textbook and bountiful notes, she would automatically take the seat next to him. Imagine his surprise when she took her seat in a nearby chair.

Granger spread her textbook and notes out on the coffee table in front of both of them, making sure each article was available for his sight.

While she prepared, Draco reached into his school bag to bring out the homework he had easily understood in class but was willing to relearn if it meant being one step closer to achieving his goal.

As he watched Granger teach him what he already knew, he became disturbed as he noticed her little quirks. The way her mouth began to form a smile when he answered a question correctly, but was quickly bashed back into a frown, obviously masking her pride in him; or the way her eyes lit up in determination when he purposively gave an incorrect answer. Another enticing action was when she ran her hand through her hair in frustration when he gave several faulty responses in a row.

Draco found himself intentionally answering incorrectly just to see her reaction; her habits. When he realized what he was doing, it took all his will power not to physically slap himself the very instant in humiliation.

‘She’s nothing more than a conquest...a conquest,’ he continually told himself, only partially believing his own words.

Upon finishing his tutoring session, Draco returned back to his quarters and knew he was in deep shit.

Nothing was turning out as it was supposed to.

‘Not good, not good’, he repeated mentally then proceeded to applaud his amazing ability to state the obvious.

“It’s just a phase, it’ll pass.” Draco reassured himself vocally with half a heart as he lay down on his forest green bed, trying desperately to erase the last hour from his life.

∆∆∆

He awoke the next day and took care of his usual routine, including his morning wank, before heading to breakfast.

As per usual, Pansy was fawning all over him and it took much effort not to slap her in an attempt to grant her some common sense.

But he feared she was so far gone that even slapping common sense into her would fail, and dismally at that.

So he continued his impressive control and kept his expression cold as his eyes drifted over the Gryffindor table for the usual bushel of hair.

When the know-it-all was nowhere to be found, he knew where she was hiding.

The Library.

He rose from his seated position and began a haughty strut away from Pansy and his...’friends’ (with much protest from the aforementioned pug). Draco couldn’t be bothered though as his die-hard determination took over and he quickened his pace out of impatience.

Draco was not surprised to find Granger alone in the large library; not to mention hidden in her favorite, quietist part of the library.

As he made his way over to her table, he made sure to purge his lips of any evidence of a smirk and forced a genuine smile to take its place. He needed a repeat of last night, where he was...nicer yet still retained his sharp wit, which she could rival with her own.

“Hello, Hermione.” He forced the name although had to admit he liked the sound of it.

No! He didn’t have to admit to that or anything to the sort! Nor did he wish to admit Herm-Granger as anything more than yet another notch in his belt.

“Hello, Malfoy.” She replied absentmindedly, not lifting her beautiful-obnoxiously kind brown eyes from her book.

“Come on, Hermione. I think you can at least refer to me as my given name.”

“Hello, Arrogant Git.”

“Ha-ha, very funny, Hermione. I meant Draco.” He kept his tone as sweet as was possible as he took a seat across from her, keeping his eyes on hers.

“Fine.” She replied pointedly with a slam of her book against the hard, wooden top of the library table. “Hello, Draco.”

Must chose to ignore how nice that sounded, he told himself.

“Do you wish to speak to me on something of dire concern?” She prompted after a minute of silence.

“Yes, actually.” He complied. Here we go; let the games begin. “I desire,” he inserted a pause simply for dramatic effect, “to thank you for your kind deed last night.”

To say she looked completely and utterly shocked was nothing if not an understatement. Draco didn’t believe he had seen her so shocked as she was then, her jaw open, eyes wide and excessively pale.

Granger regrouped slowly and he was ecstatic she was appearing to be comfortable enough with him to look completely unkempt as she had moments before.

“You must be kidding.” Granger more stated than questioned.

“I assure you, I am not.” He was partially speaking the truth.

He may have an unexplainable attraction to the wench before him but that didn’t make him any less Slytherin.

Yes, he had stated it. ‘An unexplainable attraction’, obviously referring to her.

But why?

She isn’t attractive, nor ugly; simply average.

He could have better. Hell, he’d had better and they hadn’t taken half this work to conquer.

But something about dethroning the Gryffindor Princess intrigued him.

He had to have this girl...woman...in his bed now.

“Hermione,” he reached out for her hand and she jumped at the contact. As she attempted to pull away, he tightened his grip, forcing her to stay.

Her hand felt soft and warm in his. Her small palm and digits fit attractively and perfectly inside his.

“I’m experiencing some...feelings.”

His will power was no longer centered on controlling the odd feelings but instead controlling his laughter.

If it was at all possible, her jaw dropped even further this time than its previous decent.

“W...what?” She stuttered and made another attempt to free herself of his grasp. He, expecting this maneuver, quickly tightened his grip and tugged her arm closer.

“I believe I am beginning to have feelings toward you. I watched you as you tutored me last night. You were beautiful.” He was lying though his teeth and once again had to suppress a chortle.

“You must be kidding.” She repeated her earlier comment as her jaw dropped even more.

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me!” Draco bellowed in false anger before roughly dropping her hand and marching away from her study table.

“Draco!” He smirked as she called after him.

Draco heard her rise from her chair and quickened his pace. He had to get away from her, give her time to stew over the information (false or not) he had just given her.

He shortly discovered he practically had to run to get away from this woman, a fact that oddly interested him.

He jogged the entire way to the Slytherin common room to reflect on the sheer genius of his plan.

∆∆∆

“Malfoy!” Granger screamed as he leisurely strolled through their portrait hole that night. “First of all,” she stood from her usual Gryffindor chair and began to march toward him, “how dare you proclaim feelings for me and not give me the chance to let it settle before marching away!” Yes! She had bought it. This is going to be easier than he had thought. Granger continued to approach him with an accusing finger pointed in the air. “Second, do not lie to me, Draco Malfoy. Unlike you, I am not a fool. I see right through your kind act. You may be able to hide you’re emotions from appearing most places, but your eyes give you away. So don’t try to fool me with this sudden change of personalities, I don’t believe it for a second.”

She completed her monologue standing mere inches from him, her eyes oozing anger to the point it actually frightened him.

“Hermione, I don’t know what your-”

“Yes you do!” She intermitted. “You...fool! I just told you not to play stupid and continue this act but do you listen? Of course not! If you actually have interest in getting to my heart, which I highly doubt, why don’t you try listening to me on occasion?!”

And with that she was gone. She marched to her dorm door, slamming it close deafeningly behind her.

Shit.

Guess that plan didn’t work. Why does Granger have to be so obstinate?

His thoughts were interrupted by an urgent knocking on the nearest window.

Draco approached his family’s owl with a heavy heart, assuming it was yet another order from that bastard of a father he had.

He sighed heavily as he took the parchment from the bird and broke the Malfoy seal.

Dearest Draco,

I regret to inform you of your father’s rather untimely departure from us. He tragically met his demise as the pressures of Azkaban grated on him and his psychological health; the Minister felt forced to administer the kiss. Although, I was fairly certain he was going to meet this demise upon his admittance to the prison, I am deeply shocked, as I assume you are. Don’t be afraid to owl if you are in need of assistance of any kind.

Mother

Draco couldn’t believe it.

No, it wasn’t his father’s death that surprised him most.

It was the coldness of the letter, as if his mother couldn’t be bothered by the death of her husband.

He always knew his parents weren’t affectionate toward one another, but he’d hoped they at least liked each other enough to get along and cared enough to be saddened by their companion’s death.

Guess he was wrong in his assumptions.

Draco couldn’t blame her for being a little relieved, as he was as well. No more obligation to the Death Eaters, for if they ask him to step up and take his fathers he will attempt to decline. Perhaps he should speak with Granger on the possibility of protection that Snape had offered him in the past.

Do not be mistaken, Draco was surely saddened by the loss of a hero; for while his father did try to force him into a war he didn’t really want to be included in, the man had many other admirable qualities; many Draco himself wished to occupy some day.

As he reread the letter, he suddenly became acutely aware of footsteps coming down Granger’s staircase. He ignored it until he heard her door open and a gasp of breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Granger lower her finger and her angry expression falter as she continued to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, his sadness apparently evident on his facial features as his eyes continued to drift from left to right over the parchment.

“My father’s dead. Demntors finally got the best of him.” He didn’t lift his gaze and continued to reread the cold letter from his mother.

“I’m sorry.” She attempted to sound sincere but was clearly only doing so for his sake.

He chuckled and looked up from the letter to meet her gaze for the first time. “My eyes may speak the truth but your voice betrays you.”

“You look...relieved.”

“That would be because I am. One less person to make happy. Especially him; he was a bastard when it came to standards. You know, he never understood how I could be second best to a Mudblood.” He chuckled once more and shifted his glance to the floor. “No matter how many times I told him that there was no beating the great Hermione Granger, that didn’t matter. No matter how many times I reminded him second best was better than third, that didn’t matter.” Draco felt tears of anger begin to form and closed his eyes to prevent their decline.

“How’s your mother taking it?” Granger slowly began to approach him, weaving through the various furniture and study items in the room.

“I’m not certain. She is probably as relieved as I.”

“What an odd family.” He hears her mutter quietly and can’t help but laugh.

“Yes, yes we are.” Draco strides lazily over to their common work desk, dropped the letter from his mother and began his reply.

Mother,

Are you okay? I know that sounds to be a foolish question as your husband has just deceased, but I want to be assured. Would you appreciate a visit? I’m certain that if I speak to Dumbledore he will allow my leave, if only temporary. Please reply as soon as possible to my inquiries.

D.M.

“Were you closer to your mother than your father?”

“Yes.” Draco replied as he closed the letter and sealed it before handing it over to the owl.

“Will you be okay? Shall we go see Dumbledore and ask for your permission to miss classes?”

“No, I’m fine.” He growled causing Granger to step back slightly. “I’m going to bed; goodnight Granger.” He marched over to his room and slammed his door shut before sinking down to the cold floor.

Draco sat stationary momentarily before deciding to write Dumbledore on the news; and perhaps ask for some sort of protection. Just as he had sat in his desk chair, there was yet another familiar tapping on the window.

“Damnit!” He growled in frustration before standing up roughly and walking over to the window. He noted it was a school owl and not his family’s as he ripped the parchment open without one glance at the seal.

Mr. Malfoy,

It has come to my attention your father has passed on. I assume your mother has contacted you already and I realize you must be in a great state of grief.

Ha! He paused his reading and openly laughed at the old man’s naïve mind-set.

You have been excused from your classes for the next week as to allow you some time to come to terms. If you need more, do not be afraid to inform me and I will happily grant you your wish.

I would like to encourage you to visit your mother at the manor for at least the next week. I believe it will help placate both of your mourning states, if only temporarily.

If you are in need of any help, or simply need some one to speak with, my office door is always open.

Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster

‘Crazy, old bat.’ Draco thought with a chuckle. He dropped the letter where he stood and made his way to his dorm door, throwing it open frantically.

“Granger?” He called out and she lifted her nose from the book it had been implanted in.

“Yes?”

“Do we have any Head duties we need to do over the next week?”

“Yes, we need to make plans for the next Prefect meeting. Why do you ask?”

Draco grumbled in frustration. He had almost found a way out of this wretched school to see his mother. He must admit he is quite concerned for her and worried at how she was taking the news. His mother was one that you needed to see her reaction; she could hide her emotions in a letter, but not in person.

“I was hoping to visit my mother and make sure she is okay. Dumbledore suggested it.”

“You can go. I can take care of the arrangements if you need to check on her.”

“No, Dumbledore would get on my case about not attempting house unity. Crazy old bat.” He spoke out loud.

“He is not crazy.”

“Maybe not, but he is certainly old.”

She sighed in frustration but didn’t retort. “I have an idea. Why don’t you come with me? That way we can still get work done and I can observe my mother; make sure she is okay.” Draco suggested.

“No, your mother wouldn’t want me.”

“She isn’t prejudice like my father; if that is what you are concerned about.”

She appeared to think it over as she narrowed her eyes in contemplation. “Are you sure I wouldn’t be a burden?”

“Positive. I would actually enjoy company; maybe you wouldn't be first on my list but what choice do I have?” She narrowed her eyes once more, only in anger.

“I can’t go. We will argue and fight and probably get nothing accomplished.”

“That’s nothing new.” He forced a laugh as he slowly walked further into the room. “Come on, Granger. Haven’t you always been curious as to where the infamous Draco Malfoy grew up?”

“No.” Her tone betrayed her once more.

“It’s settled then, you’re coming. Pack your things at once. We will go speak with Dumbledore tonight and be gone tomorrow.” He retreated back to his room before she had a moment to protest and began to write his mother with news of his visit.

He had only begun when there was a loud knock on the door.

“Granger, I don’t want to hear your complaints just go pack and be ready in no longer than an hour.” He didn’t even rise from the desk.

“But Malfoy-”

“But nothing. You’re coming and that is final.” He was desperate. He needed someone there to keep his mind off of his father and the memories that were bound to flash before his eyes and Granger was the most obvious choice. She would provide arguments and busy work, preparing for the upcoming meeting.

“You arrogant-”

“Git. Yes, I know, Granger. We both know what I am. Now why don’t you go think of some more insults while you pack your things?”

He heard her grumble angrily before marching away and couldn’t help but smirk triumphantly.

∆∆∆

Approximately an hour later, he checked the common room for any signs of her presence; noticing none, he settled on the Slytherin couch.

“Granger?” He grew impatient and walked to her door, knocking lightly. “Are you almost ready?”

She opened her door and drug with her an overly large suitcase. “Jesus, Granger. We are only going for a week, not a year!” He jested.

“You never know what you will need.”

Draco reached to help her carry it but she slapped his hand away, claming to be ‘no damsel in distress’.

“Put your suitcase down somewhere in the common room and we shall go see Dumbledore about taking our leave.”

Granger did as told and they were shortly on their way to the bat’s office.

“Malfoy?” She asked after a while of walking.

“Yes?”

“Why did you ask me to come with you?”

“Business of course.” He lied. Or at least partially lied.

“Head duties?”

“Yes.”

She seemed content with this answer and they went back to walking in silence.

When they had approached Dumbledore’s office they stated the password he had given them and slowly made the ascent up the stairs.

“Professor?” Granger asked as they opened his main door.

“Ah, I figured I’d see at least one of you two sometime tonight.” The old man said from behind his desk.

“Yes, I was wondering if I could take you up on that offer to visit my home for the next week.”

“Certainly.”

“I was also wondering if Miss Granger could accompany me on my trip.”

“We have Head duties to do, Sir. And, due to the present circumstances, I believe it is only fair to allow him the visit to his mother. So, if I go with him, we can also work on our duties.” Granger explained nervously.

“That is a splendid idea.” Dumbledore replied with that oh so annoying twinkle in his eye.

They nodded slightly before turning to make their exit; not before hearing a subtle and almost jovial ‘have fun’ from the man with a long beard.

“I can’t believe he left us go so simply.” Granger stated as they made their way back to the hall.

“Don't complain, Granger.” He said, harsher than he intended.

“I wasn’t.” She replied nonchalantly.

Silence once again fell upon them as they made their way to their common room and to their separate rooms; a simple goodnight to each other before retiring.

∆∆∆

Draco awoke early in anticipation of leaving Hogwarts and making his way home. He showered and dressed quickly before deciding to knock on Granger’s door, in hopes she was an early riser and they could leave even earlier than expected.

“Yes?” Her voice drifted through the wood.

“I know it is early, but I was curious as to whether you would be willing to leave now.”

“Certainly.” She opened the door and he could tell she was still tired but was putting on a happy face for his sake.

“You’re sure you don't mind?”

“Positive. Let’s get a move on.” She pushed past him and went to grab her suitcase with much difficulty.

“Here.” He reached for the suitcase and quickly grabbed it from her.

“Give it back!” She screeched.

“No.” Draco replied adamantly.

“Give it back!” Granger restated.

“Come on Granger, we are leaving.” He called as he made his way to the fireplace. “You go first.” He instructed and she reluctantly did so.

“Malfoy Manor!” She screamed after throwing floo powder into the fire.

Draco quickly followed her, just in case she frightened his mother.

When he arrived, he spotted Granger standing shakily, dusting off. Draco stepped out stealthily and placed her bag down in his father’s-the manor’s study.

“Mother?” Draco called out as Granger stood up straight, having gotten most of the soot off.

“Draco?” He heard her down the hall and exited the study in search of her.

“Mother where are you?”

“In the library.”

Draco made his way down the hall that he knew lead to his destination. When he came upon the familiar double wooden doors, he pushed them open and his eyes fell upon the many volumes that made up the Malfoy library.

“Mother?” He called out once more before a head of platinum blond popped out behind one of the stacks. “Hello, mother. How are you?” He approached the woman and was tempted to hug her, but decided against it.

“I am fine.” Her tone betrayed her, just as Hermione’s had.

“I would like you to meet someone.” He put a hand on her back and guided her to the door, where Hermione stood. “Mother, this is Hermione Granger. Granger, this is my mother.”

“It is nice to meet you.” Hermione stuck out an unsure hand and his mother gracefully shook it. “Hermione Granger. That name sounds vaguely familiar, Draco.”

“It should. I have done nothing but complain about this woman for the past six years.” He chuckled slightly. “But she and I have Head student duties to attend to so I invited her to join me this week.”

“Oh, yes I remember now. The muggleborn who always beat you in school, correct?”

“That would be her.”

“Well it is very nice to finally put a face to the name, Hermione.”

“This library is beautiful.” Figures, leave it to Granger to observe the library at a time like this.

“It is, isn’t it? It is my absolute favorite room in the house. The one room I got a say in when we added to the manor.”

“I love to read.”

“Me as well.”

“Lovely to hear it, but Mother, are you certain you are fine? Your letter sounded slightly...distant.”

“Well, Draco, you try writing your only son to tell him of his father’s death and let’s see how poetic you are.” She let out a light laugh.

Draco mockingly scowled before putting a loving arm around her shoulder and guiding her out the door.

“Mother, I hate to say this, but I am oddly relieved that father is gone. I hated how he treated you.”

“Yes, it is relieving to be free for a change.”

Hermione walked a slow pace behind them, clearly observing each and every word they uttered to one another.

“Are you going to take my earlier advice and speak with Dumbledore now? You know they will be after you.”

“I suppose, if it will shut you up.”

Narcissa hit her son on the shoulder in jest and they continued a slow pace down a long hallway. “You promise?”

“As soon as we get back.”

“Hermione?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you make sure my son goes to speak with Dumbledore the moment you two return?”

“Certainly.”

“Thank you, dear. Now let’s talk of something different. Hermione? What is the most recent book you have read?”

Draco couldn’t believe how well his mother was getting along with Hermione. He never thought he’d see the day. The two then proceeded to come to a complete stop in the middle of the hall and get on a ten minute tangent about some muggle book about a man called Gatsby. Foolish readers.

“Now it is my turn to change conversation. Mother, is it possible to have some breakfast of some sort? I am rather hungry.”

“Shouldn’t you ask your friend if she is hungry as well?” His mother gave him a sort of all-knowing look that made the hairs stand up on the back of his neck and question what she was up to.

“Fine. Hermione?” He turned to her with a sigh.

“Yes?”

“Would you like some breakfast?

“Breakfast sounds good.”

“Okay mother. I asked her, now will you please feed us?”

“Certainly.”

“Oh, mother. Beware; Hermione isn’t fond of using house elves.”

“Ah, I see. You are also the girl who began that affiliation. Yes, my son has told me quite a bit about you.” She eyed him knowingly once more.

“Oh, really?” Hermione laughed and looked at him pointedly. “May I ask what he has told you?”

“No! You may not!” Draco snapped. “Let’s just go eat breakfast, shall we?”

“I suppose.” Draco’s mother continued her stare and climbed down the marble staircase to the large entryway.

A few moments later they entered the dinning hall and Mrs. Malfoy took one of the head seats quietly. Draco moved toward his usual seat but his mother cut him off. “Why don’t you sit at the head of the table, dear? You might as well; no one else is going to use it.”

“Okay.” He replied reluctantly. His mother was so at ease with his father’s death it only deepened his concern.

As they were all seated, Hermione in Draco’s old seat at the side of the table; a multitude of breakfast foods appeared; nothing new for Draco.

“Did house elves make all this?”

“Just eat it, Granger.” Draco growled.

“Draco, do not be rude. It makes you sound like your father!”

That was enough to scare him into politeness.

“I’m sorry, Hermione. If you are uncomfortable, we will work something out.”

“No, it’s fine.” Her tone betrayed her yet again. But she ignored her disapproval and put some food on her plate, clearly hungry.

“Now Hermione, tell me your opinion of my son.”

“Oh, God. I hate to ask what she thinks of me. And I’m not certain I want to find out either.”

Hermione chuckled slightly before preparing herself to answer. “He is...interesting, to say the very least.”

“Well that is a start.” Mother laughed light heartedly. “Are you two getting along well?”

“It seems to be going fine.”

“You lie, Draco.” His mother quickly accused. “Your eyes give you away.”

Draco gave a quick, suggestive glance to Hermione who returned a knowing expression, similar to that of his mother’s.

“Well, we argue quite a bit. But that is no different from the first day we met and we manage to get the work done we need to.” Hermione replied after turning her attention back to his mother.

“Tell me, Hermione,” Mother said after taking a gulp of her juice, “is my son interested in any one, yourself included?”

“Mother!” Draco screamed, embarrassed while Hermione laughed horrendously.

“I suppose you’ll have to ask him.” Hermione replied through chuckles.

“I suppose. Draco, suppress your discomfiture for a moment and inform me of any prospects.”

“Mother, I will do no such thing.”

“Please, Draco. Humor your old mother.”

“Well, you are old.”

“And you’re so kind.”

“Are you two always like this?” Hermione stated through light giggles.

“Yes.” Draco and his mother chorused.

“Please, Draco. Please just tell me if you have a girlfriend.”

“No, mother, I do not.”

“Anyone you fancy?”

“Possibly.” He subtly eyed Hermione, as to not let his mother be aware of the interaction, only to catch her watching him intently. She smiled before looking back to her plate and continuing to eat her bacon.

“Oh, go on. Tell me who!”

“Mother can we do this later?”

“Why, does it involve someone in this room?” His mother eyed him suspiciously.

“Hermione, shall we get to work; mother appears to be doing fine.”

“Nice try, Draco; I’m not letting you leave until you inform me of this mystery girl.”

“Well then we are going to be here a while because I will not submit.”

“Hermione, if you do not mind, I would appreciate speaking to my son in private. I will get a house elf to walk you to the guest room. Your things will be there and you may unpack. My son will join you momentarily.”

Hermione nodded and wiped her mouth once more with her napkin before standing and exiting the decorative room.

“Now, my son. Tell me of your feelings for Miss Granger.”

“I do not have feelings, other than hatred, for the girl.”

“You lie, once more.”

“I do not.”

“Your eyes say you do.”

“Well then my eyes lie.”

“No they do not.”

“Apparently they do.”

“Face it, Draco, you like the girl and that’s that.”

“I do not.” He replied proudly.

“Fine, you choose to live in denial, it isn’t my fault you are alone.”

“I’m not alone. I have...Pansy!” He screamed out the first name that came to mind and immediately regretted it.

His mother laughed till the point that tears had developed in her eyes. “Son, you and I both know you detest that Parkinson girl. I, personally, have never met her but you paint quite the picture.”

“Well, I may not like Parkinson but I certainly do not like Hermione.”

“Then why did you bring her?” Mother asked after a moment of thought.

“I told you; Head duties.”

“I don’t believe you, Draco.”

“You should.”

“But you know I won’t.”

“I know. But if you’ll excuse me, I have more productive things to do than sit and banter all morning with you.” Draco stood quickly and made his way up to the guest room, where he knew Hermione to be.

“Hello.” He knocked on her open door, her back turned to his as she unpacked.

“Hello, Malfoy. Have a good chat with your mother?” She mocks. This girl was growing on him.

“Very interesting. What do you think of her?” He stepped inside the huge guest room a little more.

“She is quite amusing; different than I expected.”

“What do you mean?”

“She seems lively. I always pictured your mother to be some sort of, and I mean no offense by this but, a bit of a submissive housewife. You know; the one who gets stuck home all day while the husband goes off to work and such.”

“She was while my father was around. Only when my father was sent off to Azkaban in fifth year did she loosen up a bit. I must admit I enjoy this version more.”

“Shall we begin preparations?” Hermione stopped her packing and turned fully to Draco, her determination showing in her voice.

“I suppose.”

“Where shall we work?”

“You seemed fond of the library.”

Granger did a small, subtle jump for joy at the mention of the room before getting herself back under control. “I suppose that would be a sufficient location.” She replied somberly before walking through the bedroom door and down the hallway. “Now, how do we get there?”

“This way.” He guided her down the hall that led to the library.

They walked in comfortable silence as they went toward their destination.

“What all do we need to discuss this week?” Draco asked as they sat in two comfortable chairs by the lit fireplace.

“Well, we need to review that Prefects should follow the rules they enforce, since apparently some don’t know that.”

“That’s it?” Draco asked after a moments pause, thinking she wasn’t done speaking.

“Yes, there isn’t much planning needed for this particular meeting. Seems to be quite the dull week.”

“So, I brought you with me for nothing?”

“Thanks.” She replied sarcastically.

“I’m sorry. And before you go and accuse me of lying again; I’m not. That isn’t the only reason I brought you with me.”

“Oh really? And why else?” Hermione leaned back in her chair confidently as a smirk grew on her lips that neared Draco’s own in intimidation level.

“For moral support.” He replied weakly.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yes.”

“If you say so, but I can guarantee your mother disagrees.”

“My mother can think what she wants. I brought you with to plan and to give me something to do that didn’t involve solely talking to my mother.”

“So are we done planning for the week?”

“As long as we know exactly what we need to discuss, I don’t see why not.”

“Shouldn’t we go over specifically what we are going to say?”

“And write a script while we’re at it?” Draco easily mocked her voice and she scowled because of it.

“Smart alec.”

“And proud of it.”

“I know you are. Such a pity.”

“What is?”

“To waste such a mind thinking solely of yourself.”

“I don’t think of just myself. I came here for the sake of my mother, didn’t I?”

“Perhaps; but you and I both know you came here with the ulterior motive of getting out of school for a week. Oh my gosh! We’re going to be missing a week of school!” She stood and began a frantic pace. “Imagine all the work we will miss! Why did I do this? How could I have been so stupid?”

“Hermione!” He stepped in her pacing path and put a hand on each of her shoulders to halt her motion. “You’ll be fine. I’m sure Dumbledore will send us our work and if not, you’re such a know-it-all that you will quickly catch up.”

Her breathing began to regulate and he ushered her back to her seat. “Thanks.” She mumbled; her gaze steady on the floor.

“No problem.” He said with a sigh of relief. “You prone to these outbreaks often? I mean other than the ones I provoke?”

“Yes. I find school to be quite the stressor.”

“I’ve noticed.” Draco replied, taking back his seat. “Well I suppose we are done. What now?”

“I would love to look in your library. That is, if the books aren’t all centered on the dark arts.”

“None of these are. Father kept those hidden.”

“We should turn them over to the Ministry.”

“I’ll talk to mother about it.” He replied, thoroughly amused as she began to skim the rows of books. “I’ll leave you to your books. My room is across the hall from the guest bedroom, if you should need me.”

“Okay,” she muttered distractedly as she found a book and sat back in what Draco believed to be becoming her favorite chair in the house.

Draco left with one last glance over his shoulder to find his mother. Although, he knew she would most likely just continue her investigation into his love life and he would thoroughly regret going to see her in the first place, he continued to search for her.

“Mother? Mother, where are you?”

“Hermione reading in the library again?” She asked from behind him.

“Yes.” He turned to face her.

“Shall we discuss your feelings for her, then?”

“We could, but there would be nothing to discuss.”

“Your eyes say you lie again.”

“Mother, your eyes need checking because I am not lying.”

“Dear boy, I will/ convince you of your feelings for her if it is the last thing I do.”

“Sure, whatever you say. Let’s discuss something of relevance. How about father’s death? That seems fairly important.” Draco added sarcastically.

“Yes, it is.” She chuckled. “It really won’t be that big of a change. He has been in Azkaban for nearly two years, leaving me alone here. So, I have already adjusted to living alone. I have taken over most of the businesses already. I suppose the only difference now is you are officially the head of the family.”

“Bought time.” Draco replied sarcastically.

“My dear boy, so arrogant. The girl is right.”

“Yes, back to her once more. What do you think of her?” No avoiding the subject; might as well get on with it.

“She is a little shy but that is okay. I overall like her. It is good you found one who likes to read; means she's smart.”

“Certainly is.” They began a leisurely pace down the hall.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think you two are perfect for one another.”

“Even if we were, mother, I’m only seventeen, I don’t want to hear of ‘being perfect for one another’ for quite a few more years.”

“You never know, the one could come along and change that completely.”

“Whatever you say, mother.” He placated her in an attempt at peace.

“Don’t ‘whatever’ me. I’m right and you know it. Would it kill your bloody pride to admit someone is right other than yourself?”

“I always thought it would.” They both turned at the sound of Granger’s voice, seeing she had a book clutched to her chest.

“Very funny, dear. Pity it is true.”

“It is not true. And why are you two ganging up on me? If I had known that was going to occur I wouldn’t have brought you!” He motioned to Granger and she merely smirks.

“She smirks too, she’s perfect for you!”

“Mother!” Draco barked. “Would you be quiet?!”

“I see he is equally kind to you as he is to me.” Granger joked with honesty. “I don’t believe he even knows what the word ‘kind’ means.”

“I, too, have questioned his vocabulary at times. Another word he has not quite grasped is ‘fairness’. In all seriousness, my boy, there is no need for all the prejudice.”

“Especially towards me. I could have hexed you into oblivion and we both know it.” Hermione held her chin high.

“Really? You always seemed fonder of punching, if memory serves.”

“What do you mean, boy?”

“In third year, I punched him in the nose and he ran away crying like a little baby.”

“I did not!”

“Ah, so you were the girl who gave him the bloody nose. Touché, my dear.” Narcissa completely ignored her son.

“Mother! She hit me in the nose! You shouldn’t be applauding her!”

“Really? Because I appear to be doing just that.”

Draco threw up his hand in frustration and began a hasty pace away from the two women. “I’ll be in the room if you two feel like berating me some more.”

“We’ll keep it in mind, dear.” Narcissa said as she approached Hermione. “I cannot believe you are the infamous Hermione Granger.”

Draco hid in the darkness of a nearby alcove and listened intently to the conversation between his mother and Hermione.

“If I may ask, why not?”

“Oh, I did not mean it in a negative way. You just aren’t what I pictured.”

“Well, if it is any consolation, you aren’t what I pictured either. Well, physically yes. You have the hair and the complexion that I suspected. But you personality is so...off from what I anticipated.”

“Yes, Lucius had beaten the life out of me, I’m afraid. Only when he was sent off to prison did I finally become myself once more.”

“So, you weren’t prejudice like Draco and his father?”

“I was at one time. I still am on occasion; old habits die hard, I’m afraid. But I try to veer from it.”

“You mentioned how Draco should speak to Dumbledore upon our return to Hogwarts.” Granger followed Narcissa as she began to stride.

“Yes, I wish him to ask for protection from the Death Eaters. They’ll be after him now, asking him to take the place of his father. They have been attempting to reach him for the past two years but I have yet to fail in protecting him. But, as you can see, my son seems to think he doesn’t need my protection, let alone my advice, anymore.”

“Yes, I noticed he seems to think he can do everything and make his decisions on his own.”

“He knows he can’t. He takes my advice to heart and keeps it there. I know he does; I can see it in his eyes.”

“The eyes give him away. I told him that just a little before we came here.”

“What did he lie about?”

Don’t tell her, Hermione. Don’t tell her, Hermione.

“He was trying to seduce me and was forced to be nice. I saw right through his act though; didn’t even need his eyes to see it.”

Damn girl.

“He was trying to seduce you?! What a silly fool! A lying silly fool!” His mother laughed. “Here I ask him if he has feelings for you and he openly lies to me.”

“I don’t know if he was doing it because he has feelings for me or simply to get on my case.”

“True, my son has a habit of purposively wanting to be annoying.”

They continued to walk and Draco hid deeper in the dark as they past him and began a descent down the nearby staircase.

“Are you interested in him?” Draco’s ears perked up at his mother’s question.

“I don’t know. He is handsome, I suppose. But you can’t tell him that because if you do, his ego will swell larger than it already is, forcing his entire body to explode from having such a large piece of anatomy trapped under the skin.”

“True, once again, my dear.”

“He has some endearing qualities but the bad ones tend to outweigh the good.”

“I must say, I admire your honesty dear, but you sound nervous.”

“I am always a little reserved. Especially when I have to describe their son’s terrible qualities to a loving mother.”

“I imagine that would be slightly nerve-racking. But, overall, you seem slightly anxious.”

Draco crept out of his hiding place to get a visual image as the two walked through the entrance hall, deep in conversation.

“I am strict on occasion; particularly about certain things, school being one of them.”

“I have also been informed of your...short temper.”

“Yes, although that only rears its ugly head when provoked.” She chuckled lightly.

“Such as...”

“Anytime I am in conversation with your son.”

Draco smirked at his triumph of rousing Granger’s temper.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, but I imagine your son has already notified you of this.”

“Yes, among other things.”

“Such as...”

Shit.

“You two seem to be having a great deal of fun down there.” Draco interrupted his mother’s gasp to reply and Hermione looked aggravated at it. Draco leisurely approached the two, hands in his pockets.

“We had been, yes.”

“So hostile, Granger.”

“So intruding, Malfoy.”

“I shall leave you two to bicker; I have work to attend to.”

“Mother!” Draco began to follow her out of objection.

“Draco, just go entertain the girl. Give her a tour if she wishes; but whatever you choose, do not interrupt me and my work.”

“Fine.” He replied sulkily before turning back to Hermione.

“Would you like a tour?”

“I would say yes but it would take the remainder of the week.”

“Very funny, Granger. I wasn’t aware the stick emplaced in your arse allowed you to be comical.”

“And I didn’t know your ego allowed you to pay a compliment to anyone; particularly the know-it-all that you supposedly despise.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“Oh and what are you; a peach?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact; a delectable, sweet, peach.” Draco drawled as he took a few steps toward her.

“You are neither sweet nor delectable.” She did the same.

”I beg to differ.”

“Don’t you always?”

“When it comes to you, yes.”

“Shocker there.”

“I know, isn’t it?”

“Truly.” By this point, they had gotten quite near one another, each too dedicated to not losing their argument to take notice.

“Run out of insults yet?”

“Not even close; you?”

“Same.”

“That’s funny.”

“What?” He growled quickly.

“You claim to be not nearly out of insults and yet only say ‘same’. To one, that would make it seem as if you could think of nothing better to say.”

“You must want to test me.”

“Test you on what?” She asked with false innocence.

“My patience.”

“I already know you have little to no patience when it comes to me. Exhibit A: The past six years.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the smart-ass of the two of us.”

“What; do you have rights on the word?”

“No; simply a reputation to back it up.”

“Well, my temper isn’t known as calm.”

“I’m aware. I have been hit by the shrew on several occasions. Exhibit A: The past six years.” He smirked as he mocked her. His eyes drifted over her face, as they were mere inches from one another, yet still not realizing the fact.

“What? Can’t come up with your own insult?”

“Plenty, just thought it would be amusing to feed back your words, is all.”

“Well, it wasn’t.”

“Yes it was.”

“How intelligent; ‘yes it was’. A full three syllables. I must say I’m impressed. May not be able to do his Transfiguration homework but at least he can assemble a three syllable sentence.”

“You insufferable-”

“I asked for fresh insults. Not old and over-used ones.”

“What kind of person asks for insults, let alone new ones?”

“The kind that enjoys a challenge. What, you don’t enjoy a challenge, Malfoy?”

“Yes, I do. I’m looking at one right now, as a matter of fact.”

“I assume you are referring to me?”

“How’d you guess?” He replied sarcastically.

“Just a hunch, I suppose.” She played along and a smile graced her lips. “I enjoy being called a challenge.”

“Who in their right mind enjoys being a challenge?”

“Apparently me.”

“That is evident.”

“How long you recon we can go on like this?”

“Well, as for you I am unsure; but I can go another nine rounds, if not more.”

“Great to hear it.”

“Isn’t it just?”

“This has veered away from arguing hasn’t it?

“I believe it has evolved to-dare I say it-friendly bantering.”

“Perhaps not friendly, but bantering nonetheless.”

“Yes, we could never be friends.” Draco replied in a mysterious tone, just to confuse her.

“God forbid.”

“What would Potter think if he knew you were here now?”

“He’d probably call St. Mungo’s.”

“And Weaslebe?”

“He’d accuse you of kidnapping me.”

“He wouldn’t believe you came on your own?”

“Never, no matter how many times I told him.”

“Idiot.”

“He can be, yes.”

“Did we just agree on something?”

“Perhaps.”

“That is certainly new.”

“Most certainly is.”

“I see you two are getting along splendidly.” Draco’s mother’s voice tore the two apart from their close distance faster than a Firebolt.

“Mother, I thought you had work to do.” He had been so close to at least kissing her! Yes, he was still after achieving his goal; nothing could stop him, not even his father’s death.

“I am taking a tiny break to check on you two; making sure you are both still alive and breathing.”

“We appear to be.” He replied rapidly.

“I can see that, dear.”

“It is good to know your eyes don’t need a checking, then.”

“Suppose it is.”

“Would you like to return to your work, now?”

“Not particularly.”

“I would appreciate it if you did.”

“Why? Want some alone time with Hermione?”

“That isn’t it.”

“Yes it is, and we both know it. I shall do as you...’asked’ and be back to work. Enjoy yourself, dear.” She scurried off as to avoid his reply and back to her own private study.

“I see you get your quick mind from her.”

“Yes, without doubt.” Draco turned back to her, “would you like some lunch?”

“If you make it, yes.”

“Interest in my cooking?” He stepped closer to her with a smirk.

“No, only interest in not ordering around house elves.”

“Jesus, Granger. Would you just accept that they enjoy working?!”

“Never.”

“Of course not. Because you are bloody, stubborn, know-it-all Granger. Yes, I know you want fresh insults. That wasn’t an insult, merely the truth.” He added at her gasp of complaint.

“Fine, you want to play with truth? We’ll play with truth. You are an arrogant, Slytherin git who has done nothing but listen to his father for the last seventeen years to the point that it takes the aforementioned jerk to drop dead for you to have a wake up call!” She screamed across the entrance hall.

Ouch, that one actually hurt.

“You know nothing of my father.”

“I know enough.”

“As in...”

“I know he was a prejudice wrench who corrupted the lives of his son and his wife during his life. I can only hope he won’t do the same in his death!”

“What’s that to mean?!” He was in by her face again, and she his.

“Don’t continue on the same path that you are currently on, Draco. Don’t become a Death Eater. Learn something from your father’s death; for it could turn from his death to your future if you aren’t careful.”

She had a point. And if she hadn’t just insulted his father, he might have told her that.

“Granger, I can handle myself.”

“Can you?”

“Yes, I’ll have you know that even though my mother insists on giving me advice constantly and my father did nothing but order me around, I can take care of myself.”

“You are going to speak to Dumbledore, right?”

“Who are you; my mother?”

“If I have to act like it to get you on the right side, then so be it.”

Wow, scary thought.

“Let’s eat lunch.” Draco announced, looking for anyway to escape discussing his mother’s and Hermione’s similarities.

“Can you cook it?” Hermione begged from behind him as he began to walk toward the kitchen.

“Already planned on it.” He grumbled and continued.

“What can you cook?”

“Food.”

“Must you be such a jerk?!”

“Yes.”

∆∆∆

Draco lay in bed that night, thinking of the woman who resided merely across the hall in the guest room.

She could be impressive at times.

Annoying at others.

She was the only girl who could match him in arguments; the only one who could keep up with his quick mind and tongue.

His mind briefly drifted to what else her tongue could do before snapping back into the inner argument at hand.

This had turned out completely wrong. He was suppose to bring Hermione, work on the prefect meeting and have his mother merely...tolerate her; not get along with her! Hell, they had practically become best friends in a day!

This is completely wrong; he thought again.

There was a reserved knock on the door.

He knew who it was.

Ironic, the girl of his thoughts, interrupting his thoughts.

“Yes?” He lifted his head from his pillow and looked up questioningly as she entered.

“We have a problem.”

“What now?”

“Professor Dumbledore informed the student body of our working from your home and Ronald, as predicted, is accusing you of kidnapping me and forcing this all upon me. He marched to Dumbledore’s office and demanded to have access to me. Dumbledore naturally declined and sent him back to his dorm but with Ronald’s tenacity, it won’t be long until he finds a way.”

“Stupid Weasel.” He stood with a sigh. “Can’t he leave well enough alone?”

“Apparently not. But I replied to his owl, informing him of my choosing to accompany you and you exhibiting no force whatsoever.”

“I suppose I owe you now.”

“Of course.”

“Do you think it will stop him?”

“If Harry can convince him to stop, maybe. But my letter alone will do no such thing; merely slow him down. Is there any way he can find the Manor?”

“He can’t floo. It is only open to certain fireplaces. So, unless he gets into the Head’s dorm there isn’t a chance at that.”

“How about Dumbledore’s office? Is there any chance he can get through there?”

“No, Dumbledore’s office isn’t allowed to floo here.”

“You sure?” Her tone was slightly nervous as she lifted her hand to her lips and began to bite her nail.

“Are you, Hermione Granger, nervous that your friend is going to come and whisk you away from your enemy, Draco Malfoy’s, home?” Draco stood from his bed and glared at her in suspicion.

“Maybe not the whisking but certainly facing an angry Ronald.”

“I never pictured you as afraid of him.”

“Not usually.”

“Then why now?”

“Uncertain.”

“O...kay.” He drawled. “Granger, are you okay?” He took a few steps toward her.

“This isn’t right. This isn’t how it was suppose to be. I was supposed to come, help you plan the prefects meeting, tolerate your mother and then leave. Not become best friends with the woman and get along with you in any way, even if it was only slightly.” She began a rant and became totally oblivious of his presence as her usual pacing began.

Meanwhile, Draco was having a subtle panic attack of his own. Hadn’t he just said the same thing several seconds ago?

Not good.

Not good one bit.

“Ironic.” He whispered; didn’t matter though. The murmur was enough to draw her attention to him.

“What is?”

“I thought that exact same thing only moments ago.”

“That is merely proof this isn’t right.”

“I know Granger. Contrary to your belief, I am not a fool.”

“Well, you must admit the ‘nice act’ was a little foolish.”

“It was merely an attempt.”

“An attempt at what?”

“Seducing you.” He said without thought.

“Just great to hear.” She replied sarcastically.

“You should take it as a compliment.”

“What? Hearing that you were only interested in bedding me? Oh, I’m so proud! Draco Malfoy wanted to add me to his endless list of women he had conquered who regretted it the morning after!”

“How would you know?”

“Girls talk, Malfoy.”

“Can you not call me Malfoy?”

“Why? Planning on another attempt at wooing me? Because, if memory serves, that is the same thing you said when you were acting courteous.”

“Don’t worry. I am not seducing you this time.”

“What? Finally realize how physically appalling I am?”

“You’re not physically appalling.” He said once again without thought.

“Yes I am.”

“And you say this because...”

“Ronald is dating the tart again.”

“The tart?”

“Lavender.”

“Oh, the tart. But what does that have to do with you?”

“He dated me a whooping two weeks before breaking up with me.” She marched over to the bed and sat at the end, not thinking of the implications the action held.

“Did he give you a reason?” Draco sat down next to her, also oblivious.

“Yes. Apparently the tart is right for him. Apparently my uptight attitude grates on his nerves. Apparently the tart is willing to spread her knees, while me, the upstanding citizen chose to wait until I’m at least sure my boyfriend is over his ex! I had a feeling he still liked her from the moment we began dating. But I figured it would pass. Foolish me.”

She was going on a tangent again.

“Granger, calm down.”

“Is my uptight attitude that terrible?” She looked him straight in the eye and he noticed the tears forming.

Oh great.

He never was one for comforting.

“Not that terrible. It can be endearing at times.”

“So why doesn’t Ronald know that?”

“Because ‘Ronald’ is an idiot.”

She laughed at that.

A sweet, engaging laugh that rang through the room.

“Yes, well I’m over him nonetheless. But still can’t stop these tiny regressions from occurring from time to time.” She stood and brushed away the few tears that had escaped from the confines of her eyelids and began to make her way across the room before Draco grabbed her hand; pulling her back and standing in one fail swoop.

He covered her lips in his and she protested at first. But as he ran his tongue along her bottom lip before forcing his way in, she melted in his arms.

The kiss was urgent, passionate, as six years of tension were being relieved in one kiss. Hermione bit his bottom lip as a sign of her frustration toward him and his assumption that he could kiss her; or so he guessed. He responded by putting a hand on the back of her neck, bringing her closer, deepening the kiss. She brought a hand to his hair and deliberately moved it from its set spot as he slid an arm around her waist, pulling her flush to his body.

Draco pulled away, desperate for oxygen. “You are not physically appalling.” He repeated in between gasps for breath.

“What am I then?”

“A challenge.” He said before gently pushing her out the door.