Disclaimer: I'm not Rowling. Don't look so surprised. Oh yea, and don't sue. Please.

A/N:

This fic was written in response to a challenge at the dhr_valentine fic Valentine's fic exchange.

Many thanks to my favorite beta, Jennifer. The fastest beta in the west. Or something. Anyway, thank you.

I picked the title, although not an astoundingly witty or brilliant one, both because it fit the tone of this story and in response to JK's now infamous interview response.

Author's Note: The line "It hasn't really started yet. But it won't be long now…" is directly quoted from OOTP, p.865 American Ed., hardcover.

***

If you hate a person, you hate something in him that is a part of yourself. What isn't part of ourselves doesn't disturb us.
--Herman Hesse

There is a battle that goes on between men and women. Many people call it love.

- Edward Munch

Dogs love their friends and bite their enemies, quite unlike people, who are incapable of pure love and always have to mix love and hate.

- Sigmund Freud

***

Harry shuffled his way from the bathroom back towards his compartment on the Hogwarts Express. He heard snickering behind him, but could hardly be bothered to look up. "Let them laugh," he thought angrily, assuming that it was someone who still believed him to be nutters.

Before he could give the matter any more thought, however, Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot came charging out of a compartment to Harry's left, gesturing wildly with their wands and hurling curses directly behind him. At first irrationally convinced that they were trying to kill him, Harry stumbled away as quickly as he could before whirling around, wand ready.

Occupying the entirety of the aisle in front of him were three enormous slugs, crammed into Hogwarts uniforms. Hogwarts uniforms with Slytherin badges. Harry wasn't quite sure how to respond, and looked up to find six rather bewildered DA members staring at the three as well. He overheard Terry Boot hypothesizing how the result was likely the combination of some belching slugs curses, a few well spoken Protegos, and possibly someone's clever idea of an unfinished or overexhuberant cross-species transfiguration. Harry cleared his throat.

"Er…"

Ron had come rushing into the corridor and now stood next to Harry. "Bloody hell! What happened here? Good thing I came and not Hermione. She'd kill you lot."

A few members of the group blushed, but Harry grinned appreciatively. Naturally, Ron, being the shining example of a Prefect himself, wouldn't be doling out any punishments.

Quite on the contrary, Ron cleared some space on a nearby luggage rack for the slugs to go, muttering something about not wanting them to be in the way. Harry noticed Ron's growing tendency to glance over his shoulder fairly often and knew exactly why Ron wanted the three dolts to be somewhat hidden. After Justin and Ernie helped Harry hoist the Slytherin slugs onto the luggage rack, he shook their hands, waved his thanks to the group and walked back to the compartment with Ron. He suddenly felt a great deal better.

***

Hermione looked up from her Daily Prophet as Ron reentered the compartment, followed by Harry. They looked oddly gleeful. She raised an eyebrow, but said nothing and turned back to her reading.

After some time and after reading some interesting parts aloud, Hermione sighed and folded up the paper. "It hasn't really started yet. But it won't be long now…"

It occurred to her at about this point that Malfoy had not made his usual appearance in their compartment. After contributing the best she could to the Cho Chang conversation, she allowed her mind to return to this particular train of thought.

And for some reason, what kept resurfacing in her mind were the all-too-gleeful faces of her two best friends as they returned from what she now remembered was a very noisy hallway. With a frown, she excused herself to the loo and stood up to investigate.

Upon her first inspection of the train, nothing seemed out of order. She checked all of the compartments, and no one seemed terribly distressed or injured, aside from two third years who had gotten into an argument over a box of Bertie Botts'. Apparently one had given the other an earwax-flavored bean, promising it was butter pecan.

After resolving the argument with a threat to confiscate the Beans, Hermione returned to the hallway. She hadn't found Malfoy or his cronies in any of the compartments. She had to be missing something. Although her inquisitive side wanted nothing more than to march back to her own compartment and demand such information from Harry and Ron, her pride would not allow her to do so.

There was no way she was going to let either of them know that she had noticed they foul trio's absence. Besides, she could figure it out on her own.

After another five fruitless minutes, she realized that she might not be able to.

With a heavy sigh and a final trek down the corridor, she decided that, while she was out, she ought to check that the luggage was all in place. She assumed that the train would be stopping soon.

Hermione was about halfway between the bathroom and her own compartment when she reached the luggage rack holding Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. Her immediate response, upon finding three giant slugs wearing ill-fitting robes, stacked into a semi-closet like slimy suitcases was a quick, horrified backstep.

It took her a few moments (to allow for the gagging to cease) before she could begin to undo the damage. As she raised her wand, she halted once again.

It had occurred to her exactly what sort of chaos her release and restoration of the three could cause. She sighed again and held her wand to her chin, thinking. One of the three began to wriggle, in what she assumed was a slug's feeble impersonation of anger.

She glanced down each end of the hall before she spoke, to ensure that no one would come across her whispering to giant slugs.

"If I release you three, and you cause any sort of trouble, there will be consequences. Quite honestly, I'd be happy to see you remain in your slimy, disgusting, proper forms."

The angry slug ceased its wriggling. Hermione could have sworn it was glaring at her. The other two did not seem to have heard her.

With a final sigh and a shake of her head, Hermione whispered a few incantations to end the magic active in the three adolescents. With her first "Finite Incantatum". Draco Malfoy tumbled from the luggage rack, landing ungracefully on his stomach at Hermione's feet. Her second and third were followed with a resounding crash, as the luggage rack collapsed along with Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, who sat amongst the luggage for several minutes, looking rather dazed.

Heads poked out of every compartment and several Prefects began rushing out to Hermione's aid, but she waved them back. "I'm fine, thanks. Nothing to see here. Please return to your compartments."

A red-faced Ron then dashed into the hallway, gripping his wand tightly in one hand, while clutching a very disgruntled pawn in the other.

"Ron, it's fine. Go back in. I've got Malfoy."

She watched a look of horror wash over Ron's face, and by the red tint his ears were taking on, she gathered that Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle being trapped in a luggage rack as giant slugs was nothing new to him. He took a few steps forward.

"Ron. Go."

"But… Hermione… They'll…I could…"

"I've got it." Her tone of voice implied that Ron's future had nothing bright in store for him.

She turned back to Malfoy and noted that Ron, after further hesitation, finally turned back to their compartment.

Draco sneered up at her from where he was now sitting, with his back against the wall. "Don't need your prince charming's help, then?" He paused, attempting to look pensive, before the insult came. "Although I suppose he's more of a charming peasant, then, isn't he?"

Hermione glared at him before attempting mock surprise. "I didn't realize you understood what charm was, Malfoy."

She heard an unpleasant cracking sound and looked up to see Crabbe and Goyle, now unencumbered by luggage, cracking their knuckles at her.

She sighed and waved her wand at them, muttering a quick "Petrificus Totalus" at each before turning her attention back to Malfoy. She pretended not to hear the resounding thuds their collapses made.

"Example A: Setting your goons on me. Charming."

Draco had the decency to look surprised. "I had nothing to do with that. They're just a bit overprotective. They love me, you know."

Hermione stifled a laugh and schooled her features into an angry stare once again. For some reason, she had just pictured Crabbe and Goyle as Malfoy's own version of Harry and Ron.

Malfoy misread her poorly stifled laugh. "What's so funny? I think I'm highly deserving of such worship. Just because you're a filthy M-"

"A filthy Mudblood, I know. Grow up, Malfoy. Or at least think of some better insults. It's no good when your enemy can finish them for you."

Draco scowled.

"Well, really, I mean - "

Hermione paused. Draco was standing up. Determined to not be intimidated by him, she rushed on.

"The only reason you ever even began using such foul language is because-"

Draco had taken a step towards her. Hermione moved back an insignificant amount. She noticed a second year poking his head out of the closest compartment.

"…of your father. It's not like you ever-"

Draco had taken another step.

"…even-"

The train's direction changed abruptly. Hermione saw the second year fall into the hall before he pulled himself away from the compartment door. In spite of her best attempts at maintaining balance, she stumbled backwards.

"…meant-"

Draco reached out an arm and deftly caught her before she fell, his seeker reflexes working to her benefit. She realized, suddenly, that she had dropped her wand. His arm was still around her. She looked up at Draco, half-expecting him to be pulsing with anger and ready to strike.

She wasn't given a chance to comprehend the look on his face, because he kissed her. He kissed her abruptly, pushing her firmly into the wall she had so accidentally backed towards. It was over in a few seconds, but for Hermione, it felt like it had lasted for five years.

When she was able to open her eyes, she found him leaning against the opposite wall, staring at her with an unreadable expression.

She coughed and glanced guiltily at Crabbe and Goyle's still figures.

"So. Right. The train should be stopping soon. I should… Er… We should - the Prefects, I mean, we should check-"

He had crossed the hallway and was standing very close to her again. She looked up and found that he was watching her, a very concerned look mingling with the darkness that had overcome his countenance since the news of his father's imprisonment. He touched her arms lightly.

"Does it really matter, Granger?"

Before she could process this strange statement that seemed so incongruent with her own, Draco pulled out his wand and turned away from her, released Crabbe and Goyle, and strolled down the hallway toward his compartment, never looking back.