Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this one-shot. J.K. Rowling does.

Dramione. Switches from Hermione's to Draco's POV.

"Hurry up, or we'll be late for Potions!" I swiftly pivoted, my not-so-bushy hair fanning out behind me. I'd cast a new charm on my hair; it was in the book Professor Flitwick recommended I read for extra credit, although I think he didn't had the term 'hair styles' in his mind when he gave it to me. Professor Flitwick probably thinks I did my little hair experiment for...educational reasons. Which, if you tell anyone, I did.

"Just our luck. Double Potions, and with Slytherins to boot." Harry groaned. I could tell he was wishing for a murderer, or a fight, or even you-know-who to show up—just about anything that would excuse him from enduring the Potion Professor's torture in the dungeons. Sadly, Voldemort does not show up at whims: he chooses the exact time Harry doesn't want him instead of the times Harry does. Like now.

"Yeah, Snape's going to murder us." Ron muttered. Privately, I thought that he'd rather go visit Aragog again than go to Snape's lessons twenty minutes late. Well, maybe not exactly Aragog. Ron had been pretty damn freaked out about that. Ronald has this thing with spiders. I read somewhere that a person's fears are based on how they died in their 'past life' (you know, the reincarnation belief). So (assuming the book and the belief are true) that either meant Ron died from a spider poisoning him; or he saw a spider, screamed like a girl, and ran onto a motorway to escape it.

"Too bad! It's your fault that Snape doesn't like you because you guys refuse to get your sorry asses over to his class!"

"Our fault!?" They chorused back, bewildered expressions on their faces.. "We're late because of you, Hermione!"

I rolled my eyes. Uh huh. My fault. Did I get them in trouble with McGonagall? Did I tell them to use that hex? No. Then again, what did I expect? They might be my friends, but Harry and Ron were still boys.

"Late...again." Snape drawled, a hint of danger in his tone.

I smirked at Potter, and he glared back at me in return. Weasley caught on too, and he tried to "stare me down". I choked back laughter. Weasley succeeded in looking very constipated.

"For tardiness, Granger, ten points off Gryffindor. You too, Weasley." Granger blushed red at her name, and let her head bow down limply. She'd never been late like this before. Weasley followed suit, turning a ghastly shade of maroon. "And as a repeat offender, Potter, twenty-five off for you. Now go to your seats!" Snape barked.

My silver eyes watched Potter move to his table next to the blood-traitor and the Mudblood. The dungeon was drowning in a cold sea, but I didn't mind. Almost reminded me of home, in a weird, claustrophobic, trapped-with-the-Gryffindors way.

Snape began scrawling a long and complicated list of ingredients on the board in the front of the dungeons. I saw the Gryffindors flicker their eyes in boredom. That prat Longbottom actually fell asleep, snoring. How can Snape not hear that? He's probably deep in his potions stuff. I stifled a yawn. But he seemed to have noticed that.

"Hmm..." Snape scanned the room, awakened from his reverie and searching for prey like a vulture. Gryffindor prey, to be exact. My favorite kind. His black eyes latched onto emerald ones. Looks like he's found his victim.

"Potter. Define the Confusing Concoction and its ingredients."

Granger was sitting by Potter, a worried expression falling on her face as Potter was called. Her chocolate eyes flashed out of recognition of the name 'Confusing Concoction'. Granger's hand shot up, straight as an arrow. Know-it-all. Even you can't save your little 'hero'.

"Er...a potion that makes you confused?" Harry guessed, with a pathetic look on his face. Potter couldn't even act smart to save his life. What an idiot.

Harry's Mudblood partner frowned. Obviously that wasn't the in-depth answer she was planning on saying, though I doubted that even Professor Snape would waste his breath letting filth like her the answer.

"And...some kind of complicated...confusing ingredients?" Harry added, remembering the other part of Snape's request. He managed a half-smile, although in my opinion, it looked like a grimace. Stupid Potter, we made that potion in our third year exam!

Then again, he got a zero on that.

Professor Snape narrowed his eyes. I smiled, anticipating the punishment. I was expecting something like detention, or expulsion. More points off Gryffindor, perhaps. Enough and that'll knock them out of running for the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup. Although I didn't have to worry about that. I'm a better Seeker than Potter anyway. I was not, however, expecting this: "Potter. You work with Pansy."

Horror flashed through me, and in my peripheral vision, I could sense disgust in Harry's expression and pity from the other Slytherin's. My eyes darted instinctively to the girl in question, who was next to me. Her face mirrored my own. "But Pansy's my partner!" I whined, staring into Snape's unreadable expression. I am not working with a Gryffindor.

"Then you work with Potter's partner." There was a hint of amusement in his voice. He's enjoying this, isn't he? That bastard.

"We don't work well together!" I said, desperate. Granger gave me an unreadable expression.

I am not working with a Gryffindor.

And yet, I am.

The Mudblood made her way over to my table as slowly as possible.

"Granger."

"Malfoy," she shot back.

"Mudblood."

"Death Eater." She spat those words, and I flinched.

"Sod off, Granger." My voice was low and menacing. We don't work well together.

"Malfoy, we both know that we'll hate this. So let's just get this rubbish over with." My eyes widen. I'd never heard her refer to 'classwork' as 'rubbish'. Granger opened her books, already chopping up the flaxseed and throwing it in my pure gold cauldron.

"Yes. I was expecting loads of fun." Is it possible for sarcasm to literally drip from words?

"And I was expecting snogging too, but all I got was an idiot and loads of bollocks. Guess we're both disappointed," she retorted, signifying the end of the conversation.

We were working silently for a while now, and our potion was about halfway done. Malfoy was actually doing a pretty good job. I never really thought he'd look at home combining herbs and powdered claws together, but he did. I had always imagined him with his two croonies, Crabbe and Goyle. Now that I thought about it, he is second in all of his classes, right behind me.

Mix the flaxseed with the powdered root of asphodel, then add a string of fangs lightly sauced over with dried valerian root to the cauldro—

"—No, no, no. You're doing it all wrong!" Malfoy cried, and grabbed the dried herbs and the bright red fangs away from me. He jabbed his finger on my Advanced Potion-Making textbook. "You're supposed to add the valerian roots and fangs to the flaxseed and asphodel powder mix first!"

"Stop it! Give it to me! Can't you read, Malfoy? That was step eighteen! We're on step twenty!" I fought back, and seized the herbs, acting like two bickering children. Fortunately, the room was already too distracted by purple explosions coming from Ron and Dean's failed Confusion Concoction to spare us a glance.

"You're going to mess it up!" He made a grab for the herbs on the table, but I was quicker and snatched them before he could. Malfoy was Slytherin Seeker; how was I faster than him?

"Trust me, I won't. I care more about my grades than stupid enmity—that's the only reason I'm still here!" I snapped, emphasizing on the 'still here' part. I continued mashing the items together, my hand unfolded palm-up, expectantly waiting for him to surrender the fangs.

"Fine, fine..." Malfoy, gave me the fangs and then tucked his hands behind his head, relaxing. "If you get us a score less than 100%, I'll murder you," he said, nonchalantly, but still managing to exasperate me even more.

I frowned. "You," I jabbed my finger in his shoulder," are a lazy git." And I don't work well with gits like you. Ha! Beat that, Malfoy!

"Yes. But I'm a blonde git." I smirked, enjoying having the last word. You know, Granger, this could be fun. I'd never thought we'd work so well together.

"Yes, everyone's proud of being a blonde bastard." I hear her mumble. Since when has Granger become so...snarky? No, that wasn't the right word. It was just...she used to employ the 'ignore' tactic, and now she was using sarcasm and comebacks! It was as if the world turned inside out! I discreetly slapped myself a good one on the knee, just to check.

Apparently, not discreetly enough. That Mudblood threw a dirty look at me, and then added three handfuls of shifty beetle eyes and suspicious yellow liquids to the potion. Ours was progressing the farthest out of the class's. Of course.

"Granger." I spoke warningly, a sneer plastered on my face. Don't you dare throw dirty looks at me, the Slytherin prince. I could buy this whole castle if I wanted too.

"Malfoy." Her voice was riddled with annoyance.

"Mudblood." I used the most mocking tone I could muster. I knew that my smirks infuriated her the most.

"Git." She said it, short and quick. She said it almost affectionately, like I was her friend. Wait—what? Friend!? I was probably imagining things. It does run in the family. Must be my vampire blood.

It was pretty puzzling, alright. I could have stayed silent and thought about being her friend, but I didn't. Draco Malfoy does not take well when people are degrading a Malfoy (namely me or Father). I cleared my throat, and politely (not really)corrected Granger.

"Ahem. Damn sexy blonde git." I enjoyed having the last word. It's what we Malfoy's do. Well, it's either that, or decapitate the people who irritate us. And I'm sure Father would not like it if I decapitated Granger and got myself expelled from Hogwarts, even if she was a Muggle-born. Father would have wanted me to beat her at every test first, play nice (possibly by sending flowers) and gain her trust, then behead her.

I saw her roll her (warm chocolate brown) eyes. Granger was actually quite beautiful, with her straightened hair smoothly rolling down her shoulders. She was also quite smart, and was a pain in my ass because Father didn't believe that a Muggle-born like her would beat a pureblood like me. And Granger was actually sort of...charming and innocent. I never really noticed any positives about her before. Not like this.

What the hell am I thinking? I'll never have her, she's my enemy. And a Mudblood too.

I busied myself to attending our potion. It was almost done.

Damn sexy blonde git? Really Malfoy?

Although, he is sorta right...

I mean, about the git thing, of course.

I glanced over at the boy next to me. He seemed oblivious to my quick peeks at him whenever he worked on the simmering potion. Our potion was progressively shading itself lighter and lighter. I craned my neck to get a view of Harry's and Pansy's potion. Their brew was forming lumps at the bottom, with characteristic (nasty grey-green) smoke and toxic haze rising from it.

I winced. Another zero for Harry, it appeared.

The final step for the Confusing Concoction was to stir it while adding the last ingredient, shredded boomslang skin. I stirred the potion and Malfoy added the boomslang skin. Our mixture gave a little sputter, and then it turned into a light shade of grey, like the fog in Dumbledore's Pensieve. Just as described in the textbook.

"We work well together." He said it was such a soft wonder, almost as if he just realized it himself.

"We do, don't we?" It sounded like a question. What was I asking?

His silver eyes stared into mine. I cursed myself for replying. I could never have him, he's a Slytherin, a pureblood and a...

"Yeah. We do." I heard myself reply. I could get lost in her eyes, her beautiful, caramel eyes.

We do.

Our scores came back the next day. I didn't look at mine during the lesson though, not in the dungeons with Blaise stretching his neck over my shoulder to see it. Instead, I stepped outside into the corridors afterwards, where, coincidentally, Harry and his friends were.

257%, the parchment read in Snape's familiar scrawl. Very potent Confusing Concoction. Good job! I assume you did most of the work.

"I got a 40%." Potter started. "I reckon I would have gotten a zero if I hadn't been working with Pansy."

"I got a 25%." Weasley said, crumpling up his parchment slip and tossing it to the floor. "I don't deserve a 25%! My potion was the best! That bloke's crazy, you know?" The trio laughed, reminiscing about some past adventure they took part in. I noticed Hermione blush when they turned to her, waiting for her score.

I reckon 'Mione's got a 100. As usual." Weasley said. Hermione blushed even more, turning into a lovely scarlet. She held her parchment tightly against her chest.

"You're going to have to be patient. I'll tell you later," she said, and began to walk away.

Potter seemed to have no more patience. He grabbed Hermione's parchment paper and fled down the hall before Hermione could catch him.

"Hermione!" I heard Potter yell from across the corridor. "How in the world did you get 257 percent!?"

I covertly spied on them. I could see Hermione smiling a little, the corners of her mouth tugging. "I got a good partner. We work well together." I thought I saw her glance my way, but it could have been me hallucinating. Or maybe Hermione couldn't resist my devilishly handsome looks. Impossibly good looks and hallucinations do run in the family. I suppose it's my veela blood.

"Bloody hell 'Mione!" Weasley took the parchment away from Harry's hands, reading. Weasley probably assumed Hermione's high grade was a joke, seeing as he only got a 25%. "What's wrong with you? How is Malfoy a good partner?"

We work well together, Weasley. Little did I know that Hermione was thinking the exact same thing.

"Ron, we work well together." I said firmly with as much seriousness as I could.

Ron shook his head, disbelievingly. "That's a load of rubbish! I reckon somehow, I dunno, Snape slipped you some of that Confusing Concoction or something." He looked appalled, and then mouthed something to Harry. Harry looked aghast too, and mouthed something back. They both nodded.

Harry and Ron suddenly clutched both of my arms and began tramping back to Snape. I smiled. "Seriously, Snape didn't poison me!"

"That's just what he wants you to think!" They chorused together, marching even faster. I shook my head. Boys.

I took a swift look over in Draco's direction, and saw him stifling his chuckles. He'd heard.

I don't work well with gits.

But you're the exception.

Fin.