Memoria Luxareo @tootytots1
The Daily Prophet

'How could you?' Hermione's voice rang through the empty corridor, biting through whatever peace Draco had managed to attain, and snapping him out of his own thoughts. He cast a sullen glance towards the sound and sighed, the small witch was marching toward him, the Daily prophet rolled up in one hand and brandished like a weapon. With a groan he pushed himself off the wall - getting her attention had been part of his little scheme now though he realised, he wasn't getting out of it unscathed.

'Ah Granger, to what do I owe this pleasure?' He asked smirking slightly as Hermione bristled.

'You know exactly why I'm here, you pompous git, how-could-you?' Draco winced as Hermione whacked him across the head, punctuating every word with tiny, but rather painful, exclamation marks.

'Am I supposed to know why you're beating me with press?' He asked coldly, lowering his arms when he was certain she had stopped attacking him.

'The Skeeter article? Harry Potter implicated in student attacks? Friends with werewolves and giants? Do anything for a bit of power?' Hermione paused, glaring at him, 'Courtesy of Draco Malfoy, any of this ringing a bell?'

'Ah yes, that.' Draco commented, glancing down at the paper still rolled up in her small hands. Draco cringed as his thoughts wandered the realms of how easily the Gryffindors hands would fit into his own. Shaking his head he looked back up at Hermione, who was fuming to the point of smoke exiting her ears. 'Well, they weren't lies.' He shrugged, wincing in regret when she started hitting him again.

'You manipulative, deceitful little prat.'

'Granger stop...stop hitting me.' He grabbed her wrist with one hand, wrenching the paper from her with the other. He opened it out with a flourish, giving the angry witch a pointed look, before turning away to inspect his handiwork. 'I don't see what's got your hair in such a frizz,' He shrugged, 'a bit of publicity will be good for ole Scarface, get his name out there.' He added sarcastically. Hermione's eyes widened incredulously.

'You can't be that much of an idiot. You knew this would hurt him, would hurt me, and you went and did it anyway.'

'Er, Slytherin.' Hermione gave him an appraising look, scoffing and shaking her head.

'Oh, so we're back to stereotypes? I thought that you Slytherins were all just misunderstood heroes, victims of a dusty old hat, forever condemned to the fate of being bullies, what changed your mind?'

Her sarcasm annoyed him somewhat. There weren't many occasions that he'd actually voiced some of the thoughts that rattled round in his head, but he'd made an exception, and now she was using it against him.

'Honestly Granger, you're overreacting.'

'Oh, really and why would that be?' Hermione asked, hands on her hips and foot tapping erratically against the stone floor.

'Potty and I haven't exactly got on, ever,' he lifted the Daily Prophet, to once again peruse the article he'd practically given Skeeter, gift wrapped with well wishes, 'Besides, what's a bit of banter amongst long-term enemies. He should expect it really.'

Hermione wondered why she'd ever thought Draco could be anything but a huge pompous jerk. His reaction after the second task should have been warning enough, a huge red flag over whatever friendship they had somehow managed to strike up. With a huff, Hermione hurled herself at the boy, curling her hands into fists and reigning down blow after blow, with as much force as she could muster.

Draco reeled back in shock, chucking the paper to one side and lifting his arms up to protect himself from the oncoming attack. With great difficulty, he managed to capture her wrists again, holding on to the tightly, as Hermione struggled.

'Will. You. Stop.' He said, through gritted teeth, trying to ignore how his skin warmed at the connection, the telltale spark of the Sensieve's magic dancing up his arms.

Hermione pushed and pulled, trying desperately to get out of his grip, her eyes the darkest shade of brown he'd ever seen them, her mouth set in a hard line.

'Let - me - go - Malfoy.' Her words punctuated by her attempts to wrench herself free.

'No can do, Granger, you're being hysterical.'

'Hysterical?...Hysterical? You spread foul lies about my best friend, I think I have every right to be hysterical.' she spat, all the while lessening her attempts to break free. She was acutely aware of the Sensieve's magic growing in the air, making it difficult to concentrate. With great difficulty, she ignored it, cutting her eyes up at the Slytherin.'You knew how I felt about that Skeeter woman, you knew how much I despised her, and you...you tattled to her.' Draco snorted.

'Tattled? Hardly. I told a rather brightly dressed reporter a few truths, that she may, or may not, have already known. Anyway, what makes you think that any of this, had anything to do with you.' He quickly dropped her wrists, turning to walk away before she could answer.

He lowered his head, trying to ignore the witches protests as she followed him down the corridor. She was right of course, the only reason he would ever talk to that infernal woman was to get a rise from Granger. It was her fault for ignoring him.

'Will you stop.' Hermione screeched.

'Or what, Granger? You going to hex me?'

'Don't tempt me.' Hermione spat. Two second-year Slytherins who'd been talking in an alcove appeared to vaguely interested in the prospect of a fight. Draco shot them a look, and they both bustled away, once again leaving the corridor empty.

Draco stopped as Hermione managed to circle round in front of him. 'Regardless of how I feel about it, this is the last thing Harry needs.' Draco scowled angrily down at her.

'You think I care what Super Specs needs?'

'Perhaps you should, this isn't a game Malfoy, this is more than just some petty classroom rivalry, it's..this is real life, actual problems, actual dangers. Harry could...he could actually die.' Hermione's voice shook more than she'd wanted it to. Her worries for Harry had always been real, now though they were tangible, words floating in the air that she couldn't ignore. Harry could die.

'And what a downright shame that would be.' Draco drawled and Hermione hit him again. 'Ow...look either way it's his own fault he's in this mess. Eternal glory was obviously too much of a heroic hard on, for him to pass up.' Hermione recoiled slightly at his words, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

'Harry didn't put his name in theā€¦'

'Like he'd tell his goody-two-shoes-best friend that he cheated. Hate to break it you Granger, but good ole Potter is your average everyday attention whore, with more dramatic outbursts per day than you can shake your wand at, and lace-up knee-high-boots to match.' Draco once again stepped round a gobsmacked Hermione, digging his hands into his pockets.

'Someone is trying to kill him, doesn't that mean anything to you?' Draco paused, glancing over his shoulder in a bored manner.

'Should it?' His raised an eyebrow as Hermione opened and closed her mouth in surprise.

'Yes...how can you...why..'

'Perhaps you should let whoever it is, put him out of his misery.' Hermione blinked several times, her eyes wide in shock. Draco was a Malfoy, and with that came the expectation that he would ultimately be a dick, but Hermione was certain that she'd seen glimmers of goodness in him. Whatever held that side of him back, she wished it would drop the act, because keeping up with his mood swings was getting tiring.

'Why are you so...infuriating?' she breathed, all energy to argue leaving her as fast as it had arrived.

'I am a Malfoy.' He pointed out smugly.

'Why can't you be a Malfoy somewhere else?' The comment hurt, a nice stabbing pain in his chest.

'And miss out on these thrilling conversations?' He bit out sarcastically watching as Hermione rolled her eyes.

'You know, it never ceases to amaze me how much of a dick you can be. Just when I think you've reached dickish heights you go ahead and surprise me.'

'It's my pleasure.' Draco cut in. Hermione barely even acknowledged him, continuing with her rant.

'If you tried, I'm sure you and Harry could get on, maybe even be friends, but you don't want to because Merlin forbid you should try to be nice.' Her words infuriated him, he knew he could be a dick, it was a fact of life, a fact his own friends reminded him of every day. But he was sick of Scarhead being treated like some sort of Demigod, a spectre of goodness that could do no harm.

'You're mates with a poor lonely orphan, whose constant need for validation sends him, and the rest of your pathetic golden gang, spiralling from one deadly magical conspiracy to the next, and I'm the one with issues?' Anger flared once again in Hermione's gut, she stepped forward poking Malfoy in the chest as she spoke.

'You're the one spreading pathetic little lies, why do you want people to hate him so much?'

'As far as I can see, Scarface could do with someone taking a pin to his overinflated ego. How in Merlin's name does someone fail so spectacularly in class, but get branded a great wizard, just because he's so dense that the killing curse, quite literally, bent around him.'

Hermione hadn't realised she'd slapped him, till she felt the sting of it in her fingers, and saw the red welt rising in Draco's cheek. He looked astounded, more astounded than when she'd punched him the year before.

Draco cheek hurt, the sting of it forcing tears to his eyes. He wanted to hex her into oblivion, hold her, hit her, kiss her till she ran out of breath and couldn't scream at him anymore, couldn't hurt him. He thoughts jumbled around in his head making him want to run away. He was a proud Malfoy and no one was supposed to get away with hitting him. And yet there she stood, gnawing on her bottom lip in the most enticing way.

'You might not care about people Malfoy, but I do care about Harry, and I won't let you or anyone else hurt him.' Draco grit his teeth. Potter this, Potter that, always, always Potter. Without fail it always came back to Scarface. 'Of course, you do, Mudblood.' Draco spat, pouring all his hurt and hate into the word, till it felt like spitting venom.

'Don't call me that.' Draco swallowed the guilt in the back of his throat as he heard her voice shake.

'I'm sorry,' Draco mocked, sneering down at her, 'does my pointing out your filthy blood upset you?' Gritting her teeth, Hermione turned away, storming down the corridor, trying desperately not to cry.

'Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you, bucktooth.' He shouted, rushing after her.

'Why?' Hermione suddenly said, whipping around to face him, making him stumble, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. She noticed the look of confusion that flickered across the blonde's features before getting lost in the malice.

'What?' Hermione thought his sneer was the ugliest thing she had ever seen.

'Why do you always do this?' Hermione asked. Draco said nothing, trying his best not to falter, even though, for once, an apology was on the tip of his tongue.

'Something happens that you're not okay with, that upsets you in some way or another and you revert back to the old you; calling me names, pointing out my filthy blood, acting like a spoilt child.'

'Watch it, Granger.' He ground out.

'Why touch a nerve did I? I wonder what I should expect the next time I choose to spend time with my friends instead of you, going to tell Daddy?'

'You have no right to talk about my father.' Draco spat, taking a step back in panic, wondering if she knew everything else, like the way he'd been looking at her recently. His hands balled into fists; she'd hit him twice, wounded his pride more time than he could count, and she had the infernal habit of always being so snootily in the right. He wanted to wipe the smirk off her pretty face.

Hermione's eyes widened suddenly, her breath catching as the walls of the corridor began to melt away, replaced with moving pictures. The green pillars glimmered into focus and rain began to fall from the ceiling, huge warm drops that began to soak through her uniform. Hermione glanced at Draco when she heard him groan. She smiled slightly as the Sensieve rose out of the floor, it had been so long since it had made an appearance, and Hermione had desperately wanted to find out what had happened to Sonyea. Sighing slightly, she relaxed as the Sensieve's magic grew in the air, and allowed it to pull her into its depths.

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