The Journal

Chapter 4: Gender Issues

The morning bell rang, signaling the beginning of classes. Draco grudgingly got up from his seat and headed out of the Great Hall. Flanked by Crabbe and Goyle on either side of him, he made his way up the marble staircase. He and his two cronies walked slowly, blocking the other students who were eager to get to their classes.

"Can you guys please walk a little faster?" uttered a young boy. "My class is all the way in the North Tower."

Draco stopped in mid-step, causing a fourth year Hufflepuff to slam into his back. He turned around and glared down at the young man who had just spoken. The low hum of students' whispers suddenly ceased.

The courageous boy, who appeared to be a first year, stared up at Draco with annoyance on his face. Realizing that the crowd was now at a standstill and that Draco and his two friends showed no intention of moving anytime soon, the first year placed his hands on his hips and tapped his foot on the floor. Several of the other students moved away from him; some of them, sensing trouble, even walked down the stairs in search of alternative routes to their various classes.

"Can we please get going?" said the first year. "I kinda have to--" He stopped talking when his friend leaned close to him and whispered into his ear. When they pulled apart, the first year's mouth opened slightly and the rosy shade drained from his cheeks. The fire that was gleaming from his gaze diminished, as he slowly lowered his head.

Feeling that the young man was now acquainted with who he was, Draco and his two friends continued on their way. This time, they walked at a snail's pace; Draco even stopped several times to rearrange his robes.

When they finally reached the landing, the first year sprinted down the hall to his class. Crabbe and Goyle took a step forward, as they were ready to advance on him and teach him a lesson; but Draco held them back. The two boys looked down at him with surprise and disappointment on their faces; it was a rare moment when Draco did not allow them the privilege of pummeling an unsuspecting youngster.

But Draco had his reasons for holding them back: Peeves was dumping trash onto the floor in a nearby corridor where the first year was headed. Never one to miss out on such a grand opportunity, the poltergeist raised the metal wastepaper basket over his head and threw it at the youngster's legs. The first year tripped and slid down the length of the hall, before slamming into the wall.

Draco stood in the middle of the hall and laughed, before making his way to the other end of the corridor. He, Crabbe and Goyle rounded the corner and walked into their Sociology of Gender class. Classes like these were populated by seventh years of all the four houses. However, this class was only a second choice for most of the students, as the preferred class, Wizard Sexuality, filled up quickly.

Professor Monroe was standing in front of the class talking, but paused when the three boys noisily burst through the doors. Draco ignored the nasty glares his tardiness garnered him from various Gryffindors and Ravenclaws and trudged to the back of the Slytherin side of the room. He threw his bag onto the floor, and fell into his usual seat.

"It's very nice of you gentlemen to bestow us with your presence," said Professor Monroe. The youngest professor in the school, she had come to Hogwarts the year before with tremendous zeal and enthusiasm for the subject, which some of the male professors looked down upon.

But that spark within her had long since faded over the year, due in part to the student's lack of interest. Her spirits would have been entirely obliterated if it weren't for the Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors and Ravenclaws in her class, who always participated wholeheartedly in the discussions and debates. The Slytherins, true to form, watched the discussions as though bored spectators.

She waited until the Slytherin side stopped whispering to one another before she resumed talking to the class. "If everyone will recall, during our last class session we were talking about language. I said that someone could degrade a woman by calling her a bitch. Now, is there a word in the English language one can use to call a man that will carry the same power as 'bitch?'"

A murmur soon grew from the class; some of it was attributed to students discussing curse words to call a boy, while others were merely shocked that the teacher had used foul language.

After a minute, everyone remained quiet. But just when the teacher was beginning to lose all hope, Hannah Abbott's hand slowly lifted into the air.

"Yes Hannah," said Professor Monroe.

Hannah hesitated and looked around before talking. "Prick?" she said in a timid voice.

The professor considered the answer. "But is that word as offensive as 'bitch?'" She glanced around the class and saw students shaking their heads. "If I went up to Mr. Longbottom --please don't get offended Mr. Longbottom, but I'm only using you as an example--and called him a prick, he might just roll his eyes at me."

"Or start to cry," Millicent whispered to some Slytherin boys sitting in front of her.

"Now, give me another word," continued Professor Monroe.

"Dick?" said Parvati. The class erupted in laughter, and the young woman brought her hands to her face to hide her burning cheeks.

Blaise, who was sitting closest to the other three houses, leaned over and whispered, "I could give you that if you want." He then flicked his tongue out at the Gryffindor. Parvati made a face and looked away.

"That's a good one Ms. Patel," stated the teacher. "But that word will not produce the same reaction in a boy as 'bitch' will in a girl."

Soon the class become more assured of themselves and started blurting out words such as "ass," "jerk," and "prat," causing the young professor to grow more and more enthusiastic. She raised her hand in the air when the noise in the room reached a fevered pitch. Slowly, the students began to settle themselves.

"You guys have given me some wonderful examples," said Professor Monroe. "But none of those words carry the same impact as that one derogatory word that is targeted at females. And does anyone know why?"

Instinctively, everyone's eyes traveled to Hermione. And as usual, she had her hand raised in the air.

"Yes, Ms. Granger."

"We live a society that is ruled by men, and they are the ones who control the language."

"Lesbian," Blaise mumbled not so softly underneath his voice. The Slytherin side of the room laughed, as did some of the students in the other three houses.

Professor Monroe glared at Blaise for a moment. But then her gaze drifted to Draco, where they stayed for a long time; it was as if she was blaming him for the disruptiveness of his house. Draco stared back at her and raised an eyebrow, before concentrating on Hermione's flustered cheeks.

"That is absolutely correct," the professor said over the giggling of the Slytherins. "Twenty five points to Gryffindor. And another ten points to Gryffindor for class participation. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, you get ten points also."

"They get points for cursing?" asked Millicent. "That is not fair." Professor Monroe opened her mouth to say something, but Millicent continued to talk. "Okay, what about 'queer?' I bet that word would cause any boy to get upset." She then glanced across the room at Justin Finch-Fletchley, who immediately cowered in his seat.

"Ms. Bulstrode," stated Professor Monroe, "I awarded them points for contributing to the discussion. And since that discussion is now over--"

"What about 'fucker?' That's a good one."

"If you do not wish to lose points for your house, I'd remain quiet."

Millicent was about to say something else, but Draco interrupted her. "Millicent," he hissed as he leaned forward in his chair, "shut your fat mouth."

Even with the extra thirty-five points awarded to them that morning, Gryffindor still remained behind Slytherin in the race for the House Cup, and Draco wanted it to remain that way. Millicent quieted down, but Draco kept a harsh glare on her nonetheless. When he was finally confidant that she would not utter another word, his gaze then drifted to all the other members of his house to discourage them from making any other outbursts.

"I would now like to go into greater discussion about your class project," said Professor Monroe. A collective groan echoed around the room. "I like for you to spend some time with a member of the opposite sex so you get a feel of what it's like to be in their shoes."

She then flicked her wand at the chalkboard and read the words that began to appear there. "You and your partner must have a series of four meetings over the next month to discuss your views and definition of gender. These meetings will be conducted in the library, where you will be required to sign in with Madam Pince. And they must be at lease one hour."

Her gaze moved down the board to the next bullet point. "The two of you must also spend time with each other outside of the library, where you will observe one another's behavior. You need to take notes on your partner's manner of dressing and speaking, interactions with other students, and sexual practices--" she paused for a moment when many in the class began to laugh, "I mean courting rituals. You need to show how these behaviors fit or do not fit the role our society has defined for their gender. "

When she had finished reading all of the requirements, she faced the class once more. "I think this will be a very fun assignment for all of you. I know it's a lot of work, but you have until after your Christmas break to turn it in." She then slapped her hands loudly together, startling some of the students who were engrossed in writing down what was on the board. "At this time, I would like for you to pair up with someone...who's preferably not in the same house."

She stared at the right side of the room, as the three more cooperative houses made attempts at partnering up with one another. Her lips spread into a smile that had long disappeared since the beginning of her teaching career. But her happiness was short-lived, as her gaze wandered to the Slytherins, most of who remained seated with expressions of disinterest on their faces. Some even had the latest Quidditch magazine spread open on their desks. She sighed loudly and ventured back to her seat.

"I will give you all a few more minutes to find a partner," said Professor Monroe. "Come and sign your names on this parchment when you are through. Once both your names are placed here, it is final. So, please pick carefully."

Draco's stare drifted to the other section of the room, as he observed the young girls he would have liked to pair with. But that move would have been too bold; his activities with members of the other houses were much more exciting and enjoyable if kept secret. He lazily let his mind race with all the possible escapades he could have indulged in while at the library, when he saw Millicent Bulstrode coming his way. He immediately frowned and lowered his head.

He had long suspected her of having deep feelings for him, which were made evident when she followed him around the common room, volunteering to beat up anyone in the school for him. Draco had declined her offer then, but it did amuse him when she shoved Pansy into the wall during a heated interlude.

He began to rub his chin as he mused over the prospect of having another Crabbe or Goyle on his side. Although he could benefit from having a person of her size and strength beside him, the idea of spending hours with her in the library was a matter that did not fill him with joy.

But he was saved the duty of turning down Millicent's offer when Prudence tapped him on the shoulder. "Do you want to work together?" she asked in her usual wispy voice.

Draco placed his elbow on the desk and muttered, "I guess."

As Prudence waltzed to the front of the room, she received an ominous glare from Millicent. Prudence flipped her hair over her shoulder and continued to the teacher's desk. During her absence, Draco busied himself by watching Goyle flip through a deck of playing cards, which had pictures of scantily clad women on them. When he looked up, Prudence was once again standing before him, this time with an angry look on her face.

"That really wasn't funny," she said. "If you didn't want to be partners with me, all you had to do was say so."

Draco slumped further in his seat and lazily gazed away for a moment. "What are you on about?"

"You being partners with someone else. I was up there for five minutes trying to write your name next to mine. There was no need to embarrass me like--"

"Will you shut up for a minute?" Draco interrupted. He immediately sat up in his chair. "Who am I partnered with?"

Prudence looked blankly back at the sign in sheet that sat on the professor's desk, before shrugging her shoulders. "I don't know. When I asked the professor why the quill wasn't allowing me to write your name next to mine, she said it was because you were already tak--"

She didn't get an opportunity to finish her sentence because Draco rushed past her. He bolted to the front of the classroom, and shoved students out of his way in his quest to get to the professor's desk.

"I thought we were allowed to pick our own partners," he said as he placed his hands on Professor Monroe's desk and stared down at her.

Professor Monroe pushed her dark brown hair away from her face and casually glanced at him. "Yes, that's right."

"Then why did you sign me up with someone?"

"I assure you that I did not sign you with anyone."

"But Prudence just told me she wasn't able to write my name next to hers."

Professor Monroe lifted the parchment from her desk and looked down the list of students. "It looks as though you already have a partner," she said as she gazed down at his name. "But I was not the one that made the pairing." Her eyes flittered to the right side of the room, and stayed focused on a certain young lady. She then sat back in her chair and handed the parchment to Draco.

Draco grabbed the parchment from her hands and found his name written in a penmanship that did not belong to any of the girls in his house. He then directed his gaze at the name written next to his own. Several emotions ran through him, as his eyes stayed permanently fixed on the name of the young woman who had the nerve to pick him. He at first thought it was a cruel joke someone was playing on him; but when her name didn't disappear like the time Crabbe signed him up for a Potions assignment with Harry Potter, his astonishment was quickly replaced with anger. His fingers curled around the parchment for a moment, before he let it slip from his grasp.

"Granger?" he said in a hushed but tense voice. "I have to work with Granger?" The volume of his voice soon grew, causing many of the other students to stop their chatter and gaze at him.

"It seems like it," said Professor Monroe. She then glanced up at the ceiling as a pleased expression spread across her face. "I think it's wonderful that someone such as Ms. Granger has made an effort to get to know--"

"But I didn't choose her," interrupted Draco.

"But she chose you. So you have no other choice."

Draco glanced over his shoulder at Hermione, who was sitting calmly in her seat, staring back at him as though nothing was wrong with her actions. But that ease suddenly faltered when a flood of glances flittered her way.

"I want it changed right now," said Draco. He picked up the parchment from the floor and stabbed at Hermione's name with his finger. "I will not be partnered with that Mud--"

"I would watch what you're about to say if I were you Mr. Malfoy," said Professor Monroe. She was now standing up and glaring back at him.

Draco ignored her threat and looked at Hermione once more. "I want you to pick another partner."

"Mr. Malfoy," continued Professor Monroe, "the situation is already settled. The pairings are final. Now, if you'll please move. You're holding up the line." She tried to usher him back to his seat, so the students behind him could sign the parchment, but he would not budge.

Draco stood upright and crossed his arms against his chest. "Then I simply won't do the assignment."

At these words, the professor straightened up. "I just want to remind everyone of something," she said as she stared at Draco and then at the rest of the class. "Those of you who don't think you need this class are sadly mistaken. I hope none of you will follow Mr. Malfoy's example by thinking you do not have to complete this assignment. As you all know, the Ministry is now requiring that all who wish to join their agency to take and pass a diversity class, such as this one." She then fixed her stare exclusively on Draco. "I know you have professed an interest in going into the Ministry, so I would do my best to complete this assignment if I were you."

Draco stood defiant for several minutes. There were several obscene things he wanted to say to the professor, who was also Muggle-born, but he bit down hard on his lip instead. He soon tasted salty droplets of blood trickle into his mouth. He then glanced from the professor to Hermione and back again, as if trying to decide whom he was angrier at. But he eventually gave up his stance, and stomped back to his seat.

The rest of the class period remained a blur to him, as he spent most of that time fuming and staring at Hermione. Ill thoughts ran through his mind as his eyes bored into her; but she remained oblivious to his stares and continued taking notes as usual.

His only consolation was the sympathy he received from members of his house, who turned around in their seats and offered him jinxes he could put on Hermione. His hand trickled down to his wand several times during that period, as he was overcome by a tremendous desire to inflict pain on her, but he stopped himself from doing so. After awhile, he slumped down in his chair and became consumed by his thoughts, as Professor Monroe's voice dissolved into a faint murmur in the background.

**************************

Pansy burst through the portrait hole, her face contorted with anger. She lifted her bag into the air and threw it into the couch where several second years were sitting. "I hate this," she screamed at the top of her lungs.

The common room grew silent for a moment, as everyone turned to look at her. But the chatter continued again just as quickly; they were all acquainted with her theatrics and now grew weary of her, just like Draco.

She stomped her feet as she walked towards Draco, who was sitting on one of the tables in the corner of the room; he had not looked up from his game of Wizard Chess when she entered the room.

"I was standing out in the hall for fifteen minutes," she said. "Authur wouldn't let me in until I recited the last five passwords." She pressed her arms against her chest and stared down at Draco.

Draco's gaze remained lowered as he moved his pawn across the chessboard. After a moment of waiting, Pansy grew impatient. "Well?" she snapped. "Aren't you going to do anything about it?"

The sharp tone in her voice caused Draco to look up at her. Pansy's hands suddenly fell to her side and she reduced the harshness in the voice. "I mean...can't you talk to him about laying off me? I know he listens to you."

"Authur does that to everyone," said Terry, who seemed annoyed that the game was suddenly halted over such a trivial matter.

"But I'm not just anybody. My circumstances are different because I'm Dr--"

Draco suddenly caught her gaze, his eyes daring her to utter the word that was on the tip of her tongue.

"I'm just different," she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "He shouldn't be treating me like this."

Draco went back to his game. "And why should I talk to him?" He suddenly winced when he witnessed his pawn being demolished by Terry's knight. "I actually enjoy watching him mess with you."

The comment caused a smile to spread along Terry's lips; but Pansy ignored him as she pulled back a chair and fell into it. She sighed loudly for several minutes while she watched the game, hoping Draco would glance her way. But she was unable to keep silent for long and decided to draw him into a conversation.

"I wish I could take that gender class with you," she said. "Sexuality class is too over-rated. Leave it up to Professor Binns to make the subject of sex boring. He's already ruined History. Why did Dumbledore let him teach the course?" When Draco did not respond, she continued. "And he's given us tons of homework."

"Draco also has a huge project to do in his class," said Terry. "They have to partner up with a girl and do some observational - follow them around or something."

Pansy's eyes grew wide as she looked back at Draco. "You have a partner?" Her mind then raced as she thought of the girls who were in his class, some of whom she had confronted during the past year about their supposed liaisons with him. "Who are you partners with?"

Before Draco could respond, Terry blurted out, "Hermione Granger."

Pansy let out a deep breath and leaned back into her chair.

Draco stopped concentrating on his next move and glanced up at Terry. "Why the hell did you have to bring that up? I was trying not to think about it." He watched as Terry brought his hands to his face to hide his laugh. Draco then stood up. With his eyes squarely on Terry, he swiped the chess pieces across the room.

"Why'd you do that for?" yelled Terry. "I was winning." He watched in dismay as his queen landed into the fire and began to scream.

"That's for opening your big mouth and...your performance out on the pitch." He knocked over his chair as he picked up his robes and headed for the portrait hole.

***********************

The library was less crowded than the previous night, but the usual players were present with their noses stuck in their books. Draco glanced at the table in the far corner and eyed Hufflepuffs Hannah and Susan. He then huffed loudly at the thought that they preferred to spend their weeknights in the library than engaging in other activities like normal students. But he couldn't dwell on them for any longer, as he rushed to the back of the room and approached his favorite isle. He would have been there hours earlier, but he was still numb from the events that took place in his first class.

His eyes darted from left to right on the shelf he had explored several nights before, in search of his brown leather journal. He leaned forward and glanced at the books one at a time to make sure he didn't skip over it. The books were just as he had left them: in complete disarray. After searching for another minute or two, he found his journal under a stack of bibles.

But while he made his way to the exit, he noticed Hermione sitting at a table on the left hand side of the room, staring at him. When he looked her way, she appeared to jump and quickly lowered her head.

He continued to stare at her as he thought of the stunt she had pulled earlier that day. "Partnering up with me," he said coldly under his breath while his eyes narrowed down on her every action, as if trying to make her regret her decision.

He then watched as she got out of her seat and slowly approached him. Her head was down at first, but she soon stood upright, looking him straight in the face. Draco did not flinch nor make any reaction to her seemingly cool appearance. There was silence for several minutes, as their gazes locked on one another. But Hermione was not like the other girls, whom he could intimidate by just his glare - except of course Pansy; but she, too, would eventually be overcome by his fierce look and glance away.

"Professor Monroe gave me our schedule," Hermione finally said. "We're to meet in here tomorrow night to start our reporting."

"You know what?" Draco said after a long silence. "We're no longer in Monroe's class, so I can tell you exactly what I think of you." He leaned close to her, watching with some delight as she backed away from him. He lowered his voice and uttered, "I am not going to work with a Mudblood."

Hermione continued to stare at him with a blank expression on her face. Draco watched her for any signs or discomfort, but that word failed to induce the intense emotion that he had seen during their second year.

She then glanced down at the parchment in her hands, as she looked over the specifics of their assignment - or perhaps it was a ploy to hide her emotions from him, thought Draco. But she soon glanced up at him, with a defiant look across her face. "Like Professor Monroe said before," Hermione stated, "you have no choice but to work with me. We all need this class.... even you."

Draco opened his mouth to say something; in his head, he planned to utter, "My future career plans will not be affected by some silly class," but he said nothing.

He had wanted to do what his housemates had advised him in the common room: sabotage the project. Causing Hermione to receive low marks would have delighted him, but he knew the class was important to his overall grades. He needed to fulfill the school's requirements. He knew this, and unfortunately, so did she. And of course, his father would not tolerate anything less than excellence from all areas of his life. So, the project would go on. But he would make sure that it didn't last very long.

Never one to admit defeat, he continued to stare at Hermione, as he tried to keep his face from showing too much emotion - aside from the anger he felt towards her. Hermione ignored his glare and continued to talk.

"Professor Monroe has designated that room for us," she said as she pointed to the room that lay in the back of the library. "We can meet there at five."

Draco said nothing. He lazily blinked several times before turning and walking out of the library, leaving her to stare at his back.

*******************

Dinner that night was a special treat from Dumbledore, which he hoped would make up for the dreary weather they had been having for the past couple of weeks. But while everyone else at the table gorged themselves - Crabbed disgusted some by using his fingers to grab several chicken legs out of the communal dish - Draco only half-heartedly glanced at his food.

The day had been a disaster for him, to say the least, as he had another dismal Quidditch practice under his belt. His dream of turning the rest of the team into finesse players had now been bashed; they would have to resort to aggression and intimidation if they wanted to win games.

His gaze flittered to one of the other few people not eating their meal. He had watched Hermione off and on for the past thirty minutes, and observed that she too only picked at her food. The sight of what he guessed was her nervousness over that night's meeting was the only thing that caused him some happiness. The sight of a dreary-looking Harry Potter had brought a momentary smile to his lips, but Hermione was now his new target.

By now, everyone in Slytherin House knew that they were to work together on their project. But the sympathy they had shown him had all but disappeared, and was now replaced by shielded giggles. Pansy also found the prospect to be quite humorous. And that she seemed almost delighted that he was working with the Gryffindor annoyed Draco even more so.

Draco glanced down at the parchment that was tight in his hand. He had received the letter from his father only that morning, but the sting of it still stayed with him. He had written the man the night before, in his desperation to escape working with Hermione. He, at first, took his protest to Professor Snape - and knowing how the man looked down on the subject of gender fueled his desire to complain even more - but when Snape was unwilling to interfere, Draco had to resort to his father.

While writing his letter, he spent nearly an hour searching for the right words that would provoke his father, and not make him sound as though he was whining. He smiled as he held the finished product in his hands and read it out loud. "Granger partnering with me is Dumbledore's desperate ploy to learn about goings-on in the Malfoy household." He knew those words would incite his father to action.

However, the response that arrived that morning left Draco feeling glum. He unfolded the parchment and glanced down at it.

I have not the time or patience to respond to every one of your asinine requests. I order you to cease with these insufferable letters. As for the issue at hand, you will most definitely complete your assignment with Granger. You partnering with her will allow you the opportunity to learn about her associates. I will be expecting a full report of this soon.

Draco crumpled up the parchment and forcefully stuffed it into his pocket.

***********************

He entered the library and when he went to the sign in sheet, he saw that Hermione's name was already written down. He hastily wrote down his own name, and continued to the back of the room. He rounded the corner past his favorite section and walked to the study area. Hermione was sitting at the small table; several sheets of parchment, a quill, an inkpot and various class books lay in neat piles before her.

Draco stood in the entryway and watched her for several moments, before finally entering the room. He said nothing and grabbed the chair across from her and dragged it several feet from the table. He sat down, placed his hands calmly in his lap and stared at her. Her gaze met his, as she tried to match the same expressionless look that was on his face. He could see she was trying hard to prevent a grimace from spreading on her features. He then watched her eyes roam up and down his body; they soon remained fixed on his empty hands. He knew she was wondering where he was keeping his ink and parchment. This caused a smile to spread on his lips.

Hermione eventually stopped glancing at him and pulled a clean sheet of parchment close to her. She dipped her quill in the inkpot and gently wiped off the excess. Draco watched as she scribbled the date on the right hand corner of the parchment. She picked up the notes she had written in class and glanced down at them.

After some serious thought, she began to talk. "She wants us to start by giving our definition of gender." Her quill was poised just above her parchment, ready to jot down his words.

But Draco sat back in his chair and said nothing. The same smirk remained on his face. He stretched out his legs before him and sighed deeply.

"Then, I will start with my definition," Hermione went on. She placed the quill down on the table and folded her hands in front of her. "I define gender as a socially constructed method that tries to keep men and women in line."

Draco observed her in silence as she continued to talk; his eyes were soon glazed over with a bored haze. She continued spouting her views for several more minutes, until she suddenly stopped.

"Why aren't you writing all of this down?" she snapped. She then glared at him for a moment, before leaning over in her seat. "And where is your quill and parchment?"

The smile on Draco's face got wider as he stared back at her.

Hermione sat back in her chair and crossed her arms against her chest as she breathed heavily. But the stern look on her face eventually faded. "I know you don't want to fail this assignment as much as I don't. So, why don't we just get on with the project?"

"Maybe I am willing to fail," Draco stated in a dry tone, "if it means bringing you down with me." Although he uttered it with true conviction, the statement failed to produce the reaction in Hermione that he had hoped. She just stared back at him, perhaps wondering if he was bluffing, he thought.

"Who the hell gave you permission to chose me as your partner, anyway?" Draco asked.

"I don't need anyone's permission. Professor Monroe said we should pick someone from another house--"

"Then why didn't you pick that Fletch-Finc--that Hufflepuff kid? I'm pretty sure you'd discover many aspects of his behavior that stray from the norm."

Hermione exhaled loudly and shook her head, as a look resembling a mother who was about to castrate an ignorant child spread on her face. "That talk about Justin being...well, preferring his own gender are only rumors. And besides, this project is not about discovering deviant behavior in people, but spending time to see how society could have influenced the way--"

"If you think you're gonna follow me around so you could get infor--" Draco suddenly stopped talking, and in the nick of time, too. He was very close to revealing too much information. But it had been hard for him keep his anger bottled up. He had lost the composure he had a few moments ago, and was now leaning forward in his chair with a tense look on his face. His breathing was now audible.

But he settled himself down just as quickly and sat back in his chair once more. He soon resumed staring at her in silence. While the face-off continued, Draco suddenly felt the room getting warmer. And even though he was sitting as far away from her as possible, he could now smell the scent of her perfume. The light flowery fragrance wafted into his nose, causing him to turn his head away in disgust.

He glanced at her once more; she was now banging her quill against the small table. For a split second, he could almost see the fear on her face. He would have remained there all night to bathe in this small victory, but the banging of the quill, which was now magnified, mixed with the invasion of her perfume into his body, caused him to spring into action.

"I'm gonna make this easy for you," he finally said. "I am not going to come here and listen to you chat about the plights of being some Muggle-born girl. I'll write my essay based on what I've already seen of you and turn it in. I suggest you do the same."

He got to his feet and straightened out his robes. "I will not waste another night here with you." He was about to leave the room, when she grabbed his wrist. He glared down at her hand and then at her.

Hermione hastily released his wrist. "We have to sign in with Madame Pince though."

"Don't you have any sense? You can just sign in and leave. I'm pretty sure Pince won't even notice, considering she's so into that trashy book."

"I know," Hermione said quickly. "She reads a different one every single--"

Draco scrunched up his face into a grimace as he gave her a hard look from the corner of his eye. But as he prepared to leave, she began to talk once more.

"But what will you write about me?" she asked.

"I'll write about how insufferable you are."

Hermione sat back in her chair and rolled her eyes. "She'll fail you if you just write about how much you hate me." She then looked down at her nails in a smug fashion, before glancing up at him once more. "This essay has to be on how we fit into our societal roles. And it has to based on many hours of observation."

"I've observed you enough to complete two essays." He took a step towards her, causing her to move back in her seat. "I know that you don't fit perfectly into your designated role. You show traits, such as bossiness, which if shown by a boy would be considered appropriate. But since it is through you, it grates on people's nerves, causing them to whisper about you being a bitch or a lesbian. And although you act as if there's nothing wrong with the way you behave, I know it makes you feel uncomfortable, especially when you get strange looks and snickers from people."

He placed his hands on the table and stared down at her. "Is that good enough for you?"

Hermione said nothing, as her eyes grew wide; he had surely proved his point. He continued bestowing her with his smug glance, until he was absolutely sure she would not utter another protest about his abilities to write a report about her. When he was satisfied with himself, he straightened up and walked out of the room.

*************************

The musky odor that permeated the halls of that old castle never smelled sweeter to Draco, as he made his way back to the dorms. For once during that week, things were going his way. He thought only of his complete satisfaction when he rounded the corner to the entrance of the dorms. But when he paused in front of the portrait hole, he saw that Arthur the Plunderer was not alone; a man named Vincent was sitting beside him. The two men stopped talking when they saw him.

"Wolfsbane," Draco uttered. In his jubilation, he failed to notice that the portrait did not swing open immediately.

Arthur continued to stare at him, while nudging his friend with his elbow. "I hear you are working with Granger on a project," said Arthur. "How unfortunate for you, my dear lad."

Draco's gaze drifted from Arthur and then to Vincent, who was now hiding his face. But he did not let the men's smirks and poorly concealed chuckles rattle him in the most. "Just swing open, will you?"

His glare then stayed fixed on Vincent, whose gleeful smile was now visible. "And you," Draco said pointing his finger at the man. "Aren't you banned from these corridors?" He watched as Vincent showed his teeth, most of which were pointy. "I suggest you go back to that little dark corner which you inhabit." Vincent glared at him, before exiting the portrait.

Draco pinned his arms against his chest and stared at Arthur. "For your information, my project is progressing just fine. And be advised that I will certainly be talking to Snape about taking away your visiting privileges."

Arthur exchanged a narrowed glance with him, before swinging open.

Draco walked into the common room with lightness in his step; that night was looking better for him already.