One Week

Monday, September3rd

Filth,

I can't believe that crackpot loon Dumbledore is making all the student members of the Order of the Phoenix communicate with one another via owl post...I'm seriously thinking of reverting to my dark, disgusting, evil Death-Eater ways. Assuredly, had I known that that incompetent Sorting Hat possessed such a sick sense of humour as to pick you as my pen pal, I would have pledged my soul not only to the Dark Lord but to the Devil himself.

This exercise is supposed to build co-operation? May I scoff? Here, in the 6^th year Slytherin Boys' Dorms, Crabbe has been partnered with Weasley for this charming exercise, while Blaise Zabini finds his pen pal to be the one and only Harry Potter. And I suppose I can divulge to you the result of this: numerous plots outlining the precise time and method we shall bring about the deaths of the three of you.

I mean, just because we've decided to be spies for Dumbledore and go against Voldemort, it doesn't mean we're good or anything. Heaven forbid.

Alls well down in these damp, musty dungeons...oh, hang on, I think Goyle just lost a finger from the Explosive Hex I was planning to use on you.

Much hate,

Draco Ares Malfoy.

Tuesday, September 4th

Pinhead Prick,

Should I start my letter by thanking you for not addressing me as 'Mudblood'? Or were you just saving that insult for a later message? How is it even possible for you to fill in that many insults in one letter? I think I'm right in presuming that that's not even one-tenth of your extensive swear-word vocabulary. As for rejoining Voldemort: I can only wish you would...I feel it safe to say that with a nincompoop like you fighting for him, our side would be assured of victory.

If you think I'm any happier than you are about having you as a partner in this doomed venture, you are sadly delusional...oh, wait, you're delusional anyway. And sad. Yes, yes, perhaps not my best attempt to impale you with words, but I think transfiguring you into a pure white squirrel at today's Order meeting took a lot out of me. Amazing, really, how all one has to do is look at you and the first thing that pops into their minds is: rodent. Ever wondered why, Malfoy? Oh, do excuse the devilish grin; it's most unlike me.

Co-operation is certainly the last thing Dumbledore can hope to achieve from this exercise. To be quite honest, he has more of a chance of defeating Voldemort with a toothpick in the eye than he has of getting the two of us to be civil with one another. And now I find myself wondering why on God's green Earth I respect the man so when all he seems to be doing is playing matchmaker between the houses. I mean, really, he's got Snape and McGonagall sharing the same living quarters...how long do you give it before we find Snape transfigured into a eunuch? Although I doubt McGonagall would require magic for that.

Right. Now that I'm done insulting more or less everyone you know and everything you stand for, I'll sign off from my nice, warm Gryffindor Common Room where there isn't the slightest bit of dampness or mustiness.

With equal loathing, if not more,

Hermione Aurora Granger.

Wednesday, September 5th

HAG,

Although quite an appropriate way to address you, in this case I'm referring to your initials. How could your parents allow you to go through life with a name that spells out 'HAG'? Have those Muggles no mercy? Oh, wait, these are Muggles I'm talking about...they have no brains! But seriously, your name, coupled with your appearance...one wouldn't blame you if you wanted to legally change your name or try out a few cosmetic spells. We might all benefit...be spared the incessant nightmares, you know.

Yours wittily (actually, not yours...never yours in any circumstance),

Draco Malfoy.

Wednesday, September 5th

DAM,

If you insist upon being childish enough to play word association games with my name, I'll be forced to point out to you that your initials indicate where you come from: Hell...and where you should crawl back to: ergo, Hell.

Well, alright, if you insist on being too dense to comprehend this, let me put it in more colloquial terms...GO TO HELL, MALFOY.

Not wanting any part of you unless it involves causing you immense pain,

Hermione Granger.

Thursday, September 6th

HAG,

Believe me, Hell would be Heaven compared to any place where I have to listen to your banshee-like screech. What possessed you to launch yourself at me at today's Order meeting? You may find me irresistibly attractive, but I'll thank you to keep your uncontrollable urges for a broom closet and Potter. And your hands on my...err...well, you remember. Big no-no in public, Granger. Learn to separate your fantasies from reality. I can only be a distant, unattainable dream to you.

Sincerely sympathetic about your passionate devotion to me,

Draco Malfoy.

Thursday, September 6th

Smug, arrogant, incomprehensible, insufferable prick, bastard, toad, moron, jerk,

There just aren't enough words to describe the utter and complete loathing I feel for you.

You know perfectly well the only reason I jumped across the table at you yesterday was because you accused me of giving Ron a hand job under the table. As for finding you attractive...let me tell you, the only reason I had my hands anywhere near your puny...err...assets (I would call them liabilities in your case) was to publicly castrate you for your crude comment. And even with the satisfaction of knowing that, I had to scour my hands in hot water for two hours.

I hope you rot,

Hermione Granger.

Friday, September 7th

Stuck up, prissy, know-it-all snob,

Kindly excuse my over-use of clichés in insulting you with the same magnanimity that I excuse your existence. You'll have to forgive the fact that my writing may lack its usual flair and panache today...a letter from home has done enough to ruin my mood, and to make matters worse, I must write to you. Wouldn't it just be easier to stand in the Great Hall...or the Entrance Hall...or the Potions classroom...or anywhere...and yell my head off at you? Oh, that's right, I forgot...Malfoys don't yell.

Draco Malfoy.

Friday, September 7th

Malfoy,

What are you prattling on about? And honestly, you call those lackadaisical, dispirited words insults? You should be ashamed of yourself! And what got into you, storming out of Defence Against The Dark Arts today? Was it anything to do with that letter delivered by that disgusting black hawk? Was that the letter from home you were talking about?

And...well...it's against my better judgement to ask this, but you can chalk it up to being a goody-two-shoes Gryffindor...are you alright?

Hermione Granger.

Friday, September 7th

Granger,

Hell must have frozen over, and I know I saw a pig flying outside my bedroom window just now (maybe that was just Weasley)...you actually seemed concerned about me?

Draco Malfoy.

Friday, September 7th

Malfoy,

Don't get carried away by it...and by the way, don't try to change the subject with your one-eyebrow-raised-I-can-seduce-anything-are-you-distracted-yet tone of quill...you haven't answered my question. Are you alright?

Hermione Granger.

Friday, September 7th

Woman!

Yes, I'm bloody alright! Or as bloody alright as I can be when my mother's bloody unwell and my father's bloody cover in the Dark Lord's bloody circle is close to being blown and there's nothing our batty old Headmaster can bloody do about it! Does that answer your bloody question?

Severely hacked off,

Draco Malfoy.

Friday, September 7th

Draco,

Advice to you in two words: calm down. All that raving and ranting can't be good for your blood pressure. And it might do you a spot of good to place a little faith in Dumbledore...he's not God, but there's something to be said for the fact that he managed to defeat Grindelwald and he's the only wizard that Voldemort fears. If anyone can salvage your father's cover, it's Dumbledore. Don't worry.

Tolerating your temper tantrum only for tonight,

Hermione Granger.

Friday, September 7th

Granger...erm...Hermione,

Just thought I'd see how it feels to write that.

My owl's exhausted after tonight's trips...yours must be too. So I'm just going to send Thor with one last message. Goodnight.

Draco.

Friday, September 7th

Draco,

Yes, well, I suppose Nefertiti is up to delivering one more note as well.

Goodnight,

Hermione.

Saturday, September 8th

Draco,

Once again, I go against my better judgement and apologize for what happened in Dueling Practice today...I swear I didn't mean to give you African Elephant ears. I realize that laughing the way I did probably didn't make it seem as though I was apologetic, but you must admit, the ears did look rather incongruous with your blonde hair. Whoops, here come the giggles again...are you sure you didn't throw in a Laughing Hex while I wasn't paying attention?

Hermione.

Saturday, September 8th

Hermione,

Against my better judgement, I'll dismiss your apology as sincere...though at the time I thought you did it only to wreak vengeance on me for casting the Full-Body Bind on Potter. You are rather psychotic when it comes to either of your boyfriends, you know.

Draco.

Saturday, September 8th

Draco,

It's too bad this isn't a romance novel...if it were, I would sigh. Don't get any ideas...I'd sigh because I'm utterly sick and tired of explaining to people that Harry and Ron are simply my best friends, nothing more. I mean, honestly, Draco, don't you have any best friends of the opposite sex with whom you can share everything and feel absolutely comfortable?

Hermione.

Saturday, September 8th

Hermione,

Best friends of the opposite sex...hmm...no, can't say that I do. Crabbe and Goyle are gay...does that count?

Draco.

Saturday, September 8th

Draco,

THEY ARE??

Hermione.

Saturday, September 8th

Hermione,

Would I lie to you?

Draco.

Saturday, September 8th

Yes, you would, in a heartbeat, you would!

Hermione.

Saturday, September 8th

I think I should be insulted...but then, one can't convey a pout properly via owl post. Meet me near the Divination classroom in half an hour? And see, I'm being nice...I asked you instead of ordering you.

Draco.

Saturday, September 8th

I'm bringing my wand just in case this leads to a duel.

Hermione.

Saturday, September 8th

Just be there, woman.

Draco.

Sunday, September 9th

Dear Hermione,

I swear I meant every word I said. No elaborate tricks to break Potter's heart, or to get Weasley all riled up, or even to get Pansy off my back. I meant every word. And I'll say it again under Veritaserum if I have to.

Regards,

Draco.

Sunday, September 9th

Dear Draco,

Give me till nightfall, at least, to consider. I don't doubt your sincerity, for some unfathomable reason. It's just that...well...things have moved rather fast. You've...we've...gone from hate to love in a week. Is that illusion or reality? Is that logical? Is that even possible?

Fondly,

Hermione.

Sunday, September 9th

Dearest Fool,

If I, the master of all cynics, am willing to give this a chance, don't you think it's something that perhaps surpasses norms and expectations and logic? I may not be able to promise you anything: not patience, not kindness and certainly not eternity. What I can promise you is love, here and now.

I'll be up in the Astronomy Tower after curfew. If you've made up your mind by then...

Yours with love,

Draco.

Sunday, September 9th

Darling Idiot,

I'll be there.

With all my heart,

Hermione.