No Other Choices

Chapter II

A Day of Reform

He leapt out of his bed and threw on a pair of black pants that had lost their crease and were very wrinkled. He put on a white shirt he pulled out from the bottom of his trunk. On him, it was obvious that it had been in a ball beforehand. He didn't care; Pansy Parkinson had just kissed him for fuck's sake! Shuddering at the thought, he picked up the comfortable robes he had worn the day before and threw them on as he sprinted to the dungeon, wanting to make it absolutely clear to his professors that he was worth the title of Prefect.

"Good Morning, Malfoy, take your seat," Professor Vector said softly. Draco looked around; the only other person in the classroom was a Gryffindor prefect, Miss Almighty Moodblood herself.

"Punctual, aren't we Granger?" he sneered in her direction.

"As usual Malfoy," she said, her face still buried in a book. She was ignoring him! He briskly walked over to her and snatched the book out of her hands.

"Malfoy!" she looked angrily up at him, her pale cheeks reddening.

"I'm just having a looksie, don't get your panties in a twist!" He cast a sharp glance up at Vector who was immersed in a stack of parchment reaching three feet off the desk.

"Prefects Who Gained Power..." he muttered thoughtfully.

"I was reading Malfoy, maybe you should try it some time," she snatched the book back. She once again looked down, completely ignoring him. Infuriated, Draco snapped.

"Looking for a job at the Ministry or something of that sort?" he began matter of factly. "My father holds a spot at the ministry as you well know. Would've been a shoe in for Minister if that Muggle-lover Arthur Weasley hadn't been awarded that Order of Merlin for doing whatever he did...I could speak to him, you know..."

"What are you on about Malfoy?!" she demanded, he was pleased to see a panicked expression on her face.

"Well, I would tell him some things for you. But you know how father is... Too bad he'd probably just think you're a filthy Moodblood, you could've led a department with all of your 'achievements.'"

He looked down and corrected his stride once again. If only he could change his malicious ways along with his walk.

'Well Draco old boy,' he thought to himself. 'So much for turning over a new leaf, you're still a self-centered little prick who throws around the words 'my father' and expects doors to open. But what would making nice with Granger do? Absolutely nothing! But, why do I feel so fucking guilty for saying those things. They weren't even up to my malevolent standards.'

"Mr. Malfoy," Vector began. "Would you kindly take your seat?"

Draco looked around and noticed that in that brief amount of time, the small class had been filled. He pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and his eagle owl quill and began to doodle, while absentmindedly taking down odd theorems and the occasional note. He then caused a slight diversion to the rest of the class by smacking himself in the face.

Over the sniggers and smirks, he could see Granger looking smug. He recovered himself, or so he thought, by whipping his head around, looking for the bug that was taunting him.

"Malfoy!" Vector snapped. "Please refrain from swatting, as there are no bugs, and will be no bugs, inside the Hogwarts walls. The castle is charmed from them. If you see fit, you may go see Madam Pomfrey."

Draco grumbled, sliding down in his seat. He had only been reminding himself that to take Snape's warning seriously, he was trying his best in his classes. But then again, it wasn't his fault Arithmancy came so easily to him.

Glad that the class was over, he grabbed his things and made his way down the hall.

"Draco," a voice said from behind him. He spun oh his heel, blonde hair flying gracefully over his right eye as he fixed a wide, gray-eyed gaze on the owner.

Hermione Granger's breath caught as he turned to face her. All she could wonder was what he was thinking. All he could wonder was what she was thinking.

"Granger," he said quietly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Malfoy, I was going to ask you about our potions session on...Friday, is it?"

"Right in one, after my Quidditch practice, I can't allow Slytherin to lose to Gryffindor yet again, can I?" He smiled warmly at her.

"I guess not," she said, smirking in his a way unique to him. "But that's exactly how Harry's thinking, so that's going to put a damper on your glorious victory."

"We'll see, now won't we?" Draco looked down at her, walking nearer.

"I guess we will," she said, noticing how tall he was. "So, where should we do this?"

"What?" he smiled (the presence of which she was trying to get used to). "Oh...Oh, our tutoring meeting."

"Precisely, so, we'll meet in the potions Dungeon?"

"Seems logical, but lacks imagination...The Library?"

"God's no, I'd be too distracted. The Prefect's commonroom," she suggested.

"Boys or Girls," he raised an eyebrow in her direction.

"Which do you prefer?" she asked, knowing the answer.

"Why...Girls of course," he grinned, as if it was common knowledge. But then again, she knew he'd never been in there and would want to venture in.

"Of course," she turned and walked away. Abruptly stopping and whipping around, she found him still watching her. "What time will we meet?"

"Nine o'clock," he said promptly. He turned and walked swiftly towards his next class.

* * *

Meanwhile, Hermione Granger was pondering some pretty uncharacteristic thoughts. Her mind was swimming and she was confused about much of what had happened that day. Being the kind of person she was, she took advantage of her free time and headed to the library.

'What was Malfoy's deal back there?' she pulled out a book from the shelf nearest to her, not caring to read the title. It was one of her many ambitions to read the entire library, so any random book would do. She began to read the book, though one thousand words was a little light for her liking.

One of the more unexplored fields of magic, trained invisibility has been mastered by only three wizards to date. The ability enables the possessor to become invisible at will...

'How can McGonagall expect me to tutor him if I can't hold a solid opinion of him?' And how could she read if she wasn't focused?

Earlier that morning, a scene had unfolded over Hermione's journal. It seemed like a very muggle thing to keep, but she didn't know what she'd do without it. Last night, her entry had been rather lengthy and personal, basically written as if nobody would ever read it.

...Too bad my studies are so time consuming. I had made a pledge to myself that this year would be different. I would be different. Perfection and above and beyond perfection are my life. But if so, why does it feel like something's missing? One of the things that bother me is my relationships. I've been doing everything in my power to make Harry pay attention to me more. Does he wish me to be frank? Should I confess that when I'm around him, I feel...different? We've been through so much together, is it worth it to go and jeopardize everything? Maybe Rita Skeeter was right, Harry doesn't need this right now. I can't believe I just wrote that...

She had casually charmed it, locking it by means of a complex spell. It never crossed her mind that someone would be as rude as to break the charm and read it. The next morning, she left the prefect's quarters to visit the Gryffindor tower. After showing Lavender a quick spell to make her bag hold more, she began down the stairs to the common room. On a table close to the fire, two pairs of eyes met hers as she reached the bottom of the flight. They were huddled together over a book, lying open with pages glowing. Only one book she knew had glowing pages, and they glowed because she had charmed them, to allow her to write in the dark. The two guilty faces didn't look guilty for long before they stood up and confronted her.

"I can't believe you!" his face was reddening by the second. "You're sick! You've had fantasies about all of my brothers...even Percy! And I can't believe you never even...Never mind! It's like I don't even know you anymore!" he grabbed his things and ran up to his dormitory.

She turned and faced her remaining friend. Not knowing what to say, she mouthed 'I'm sorry.' Harry stood up and hugged her. He then backed away, looking very uneasy.

"I'm sorry too," his deep voice reassured her. "Maybe some day, Mione, but not right now. Voldemort's back, and there are Death Eaters swarming all over, We're taking our O.W.L.'s soon and..."

"And Cho Chang's single again, I know Harry," she said rather harshly before briskly walking back to the portrait hole, pausing only to see the hurt look on her best friend's face.

Slipping back into the present, Hermione gazed down at the book, invisibility would have to wait. She took her wand, pointed it at the page and waited. Seconds later, a piece of parchment fluttered out of her wand and landed on the book. She pocketed it, not bothering to look at the due date, and walked to the Great Hall. She looked towards the head of the Gryffindor table, seeing Ron and Harry talking absentmindedly. She turned and walked out onto the pathway to find her secluded bench had already been occupied.

"How goes it Granger? Long time no see," his gray eyes were fixed on her again.

"Sorry Malfoy, I'll leave you alone." With that, she turned to walk away.

"That's quite alright Granger, there's enough room here for you. I don't bite...not yet." He winked at her, laughed at the absurdity of it, and explained his situation. "I'm only writing a poem."

"Poetry, you? It just doesn't fit your persona Malfoy."

"Just sit down and do your work, I'll do mine, no confrontation required." He looked down and began adding to his foot of parchment. Hermione couldn't help but notice that his writing was extremely precise and elegant, and that the words 'hate' and 'how dare her' came up quite often