I found this old story in my folder and revamped it. I'm still slightly wavering on whether I should post it or not (it's unbearably corny) but I haven't posted anything in a while...

The Blame Game
By Rurouni Star

Whenever something happens, it's Draco Malfoy's fault.

He's long since come to accept this. He isn't just the possibility, or just the suspect – his jury hangs him before he even knows a crime has been committed. His sentence? Her.

She merely glares the first time it happens. Shoots him poisoned looks all through the day – accidentally knocks over his bowl of chopped dragon liver, though he knows from her face that it really is an accident.

"Watch yourself, mudblood," he hisses.

Instead of flinching, she regains her composure immediately. "You ought to watch yourself," she says.

But before he can try and figure out exactly what this means, she's gone.

It's a week before the second time – this time she spots him and hisses something to one of her little friends. The redheaded girl is now glaring at him too, as though he'd hit one of her other little friends. He wishes he knew how he'd gotten them so angry so he could do it again.

He hears that night that something's got the Gryffindors upset at them, in Slytherin. No one's quite sure what – or someone's not admitting. All too possible. Which is why everyone thinks it's him.

"You're holding out on us?" Pansy asks playfully.

He shrugs noncommittally. They take it as an answer.

And then – the next day, she brushes past him violently in the hall. She spits his name like poison. He almost likes the way it comes off her tongue. But he still doesn't know why, goddamnit.

The teachers get concerned, at some point.

"She's normally such a good student, but her grades, and her attention-"

A few days later, Granger is back to shooting him dirty looks, though they're merely suspiciously dirty – as though whatever it is he's going to do, she's preemptively angry at him for it. It almost annoys him until he begins to think that perhaps it's all a game. It sounds like a very Slytherin thing to do, though for what purpose, he's not certain. That's why it surprises him, from her.

After that, whenever she accuses him, he pretends to pretend to be affronted. It's a convoluted idea, to be sure, but so much fun.

"Who me, Granger? Why I never!"

She never says a word about what exactly it is he's done. Which only reinforces his idea that she's lying. Making the other two in her little trinity unnecessarily worried.

It all pans out, in the end, he thinks. She never even gets the guts up to strike him – apparently, her deception isn't worth a detention. Which makes it even more obvious.

Obviously, thinking back on it, he was a little too cocky.

"You!" she hisses from across the library, and suddenly, uncharacteristically, he wants not to be there.

Instead, he turns around and turns his smile into a lazy smirk, as though he knows what the hell she's talking about. "Me," he mimics. "Yes, Granger, what is it now?"

She marches up to him angrily, hair tossed back, eyes flaring – he blinks as he finds he is now against the wall, with a wand digging sharply into his throat. Draco Malfoy begins to think, as he stares at her with eyes that would widen if he would let them – he begins to think perhaps it's more serious than the game he thought it was.

"You horrid – evil-" She stutters as she tries to force some kind of adjective out that will adequate describe him.

He can't resist, one more time. "Slimy?" he guesses, smiling calmly. "Repulsive, disgusting, abhorrent? Really, Granger, you're going to have to give me a hint – am I getting warmer or colder?"

The wand jabs deeper into his throat, and he loses his breath – he almost regrets it. But not quite.

But a little sniffle escapes her, and for some reason, some insane, goddamned ludicrous reason, he begins to feel guilty.

"Put him back," she says in a small voice. "Put him back." Her voice cracks.

At this, he finally decides to take a wild guess. Partially because her wand is beginning to really hurt, and partially because he doesn't want anyone in the library to hear them and find him at the mercy of a mudblood Gryffindor. And a girl at that.

"Your teddy bear is in a better place now," he says self-importantly. "You should be happy for it."

Hermione just stares at him in confusion. He likes this better. He contemplates doing it more often.

She quickly regains her strength of mind, though. "Put. Him. Back." Hermione grits out.

Malfoy rolls his eyes.

"Look, mudblood, you want the truth?"

She watches him with darkened eyes.

"I've got absolutely no clue what you're talking about."

Her wand moves slightly – she opens her mouth angrily, possibly to hex him- but he quickly continues talking.

"I never did. I just went along with it, you idiot. What's your problem, anyway?"

Granger steps back. She's… surprised.

And resigned, for some reason.

She lets him go – stumbles back, a hand to her chest. Her wand clatters to the tile, and she slides to the floor, back to the wall.

She's crying.

"I thought you knew," she whispers. "I thought you could tell me, I thought I'd be able to fix it-"

"Fix what?" he demands incredulously, though he's still shaking slightly from his brush with the know-it-all's wand.

He tries to figure out, later, why in the world she would ever tell him anything. Perhaps she was very distressed. Or perhaps she felt – dare he imagine it – guilty, for blaming the wrong person.

"Harry," she manages. "He's – he's dying. I wasn't sure at first, but now he won't wake up, and they can't find a reason-"

It sounds disturbingly familiar. He tries to think where he's heard of it.

"It's not a disease and it's not a curse- but why in the world would I- you're just as bad, even if you're not the one that did
it!"

He feels as though it's on the edge of his brain. "Did it start with an 's'?" he mutters to himself.

She looks at him as though he's insane, but there are still tears in her eyes.

"S… sown… soap…" His frown deepens. "For god's sake-"

"What are you talking about?" she demands, seeming to regain her composure slightly.

He snaps his fingers. "Sopor!" he says with instant enlightenment. "That sounds quite a bit like the Soporus curse." He blinks at her. "Nasty dark magic. I wouldn't imagine you'd find it even in the Hogwarts Restricted Section."

She stares at him.

Malfoy shrugs, feeling strangely uncomfortable. "You can't blame me anymore," he informs her. "I can't cast that."

Hermione swallows. "You- you just helped me-"

A smirk appears on his face, despite the fact that he's not quite certain why he did it. "Yes well – awful mistake, wasn't it? It must have slipped out."

She runs from the library soon after – probably to tell the precious headmaster what to look for.

He sees her in the halls after that, and Potter too. But she never accuses him anymore; she doesn't even look at him directly.

He finds he somewhat misses it.

So one of those days, in Potions, he knocks over her salamander eyes on purpose, a thin apology leaving his lips while his eyes flash like they used to.

She still doesn't look at him.

So, just to break with tradition, he stays and helps her clean up.

That gets a rise from her.

"What do you think you're doing, anyway?" she demands.

He opens his mouth to respond, but closes it again as he finds he doesn't quite know. And then, because the room is empty, he puts his hand beneath her chin and kisses her.

The eyes get cleaned up, and he finds he's proud he's managed to confuse her. But, of course, he's equally confused himself, so it's no victory.

It's just a twisted kind of tie in a game that never existed at all.