Draco looked up as a thump came from his left, and looked across the aisle. His eyes widened. "Lots of books there, Hermione."

"What're you reading, Draco?" She slid into the seat, breathing slightly unsteady from the combination of the hard work of lugging her private library around the school and of irritation. The chatter behind her back, insults about being a know-it-all or whatever unimaginative slur they had moved on to now, none of it was as subtle as they seemed to believe it was. She wasn't listening. You keep telling yourself that, Hermione.

"The list."

"The list-seriously? We go to the same school and you still get sent a list of everything I read? Who could you possibly have watching me in the Gryffindor common room?"

He smirked. "I have my sources. How have you had time to reread Hogwarts: A History again?"

"I'm organised. Draco-"

"What? Because if you're going to try to convince me that I don't need to get to know you, again, then -"

"I was going to say, before you interrupted me," he blinked at this; did I? That was odd, as he had never attempted to interrupt anyone else, at any point in his life. "That you could just get to know me by actually asking me. Or getting me to write out my reading schedule for you. That way, you might even be able to keep up."

He didn't have a chance to retort before Professor Snape began to take the register. It didn't escape the notice of either Draco or Hermione that he lingered on Harry Potter the longest, much to their annoyance. Just like Professor Flitwick, Hermione was thinking. Figures, was all Draco had to say-he hadn't been in that class; Gryffindor first years had Charms with Ravenclaw. "Ah, yes, Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity." Draco snorted at that. Hermione shot him a glare that he didn't seem to notice.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." Hermione had tensed up and moved right to the edge of her seat, Draco could see that. Perhaps it was because Professor Snape had implied that she was thick.

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione raised her hand. Draco raised his eyebrows. "I don't know, sir," said Potter.

Snape curled his thin lips into a rather frightening sneer; Draco was glad that he was in Slytherin with the eerie potions master for head of house. At least he'd get favouritism working for him. Hermione's hand was ignored, though, which led to him frowning at the back of the Professor's head. Ask Hermione. "Tut, tut- fame clearly isn't everything. Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoars?"

Hermione's hand stretched further, though she didn't quite leave her seat. Draco turned around to watch Potter's face, his eyebrows as high as they could go. He couldn't feel himself trembling, though Hermione would point it out later. Ask Hermione.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

Draco almost felt sorry for Potter, forced to meet Snaps' cold eyes for so long. If he were in any other house, there was a high chance that Snape would drop it. Of course he didn't, though, and of course he continued to ignore Hermione. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfs bane?"

Draco whipped around as a bench scraped against the floor; Hermione, seated across the aisle beside Blaise Zabini, had actually gotten to her feet. He gaped openly at her, it not occurring to him to shut his mouth. What is she doing? Why doesn't he just ask her? "I don't know," Potter said, so timid it was a wonder he'd ever been made a lion, "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

A few people laughed as Snape whirled around, stalking back towards the front of the room. "Sit down," he barked at Hermione, and Draco winced at the tone. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfs bane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

Hermione was, of course, and had been since the instant he had stopped asking questions and started talking. Draco picked up his eagle-feather quill as Snape docked a point from Gryffindor for what he dubbed Potter's 'cheek'. Everyone else thought it was quite impressive, apparently.

Things didn't improve as the lesson wore on: only Draco and Hermione managed a successful potion, working with Theodore Nott and Zabini respectively. Draco kept glancing towards her automatically, watching her hands as she worked. Considering she'd never been able to attempt any potion-making processes in the past, she had an impressive comprehension of techniques. After he made this observation, Neville's potion boiled over, Draco had to stop himself from stepping on the hem of Snape's coat when he insulted Hermione's almost flawless technique for the fifth time, and Potter lost more points for 'not cautioning Longbottom'. Even Draco thought that was unfair, though he would rather eat eye of newt than admit it.

"I've noticed we don't have any other classes together."

"You're wrong, actually."

"Excuse me?" She adjusted her hold on the stack of books, eyebrows furrowing. He could imagine how her mind must be churning, trying to explain that unlikely accusation.

"Flying lessons are on Thursday." Draco was absolutely beaming at her. Zabini and Nott snorted from just in front of them; evidently, they found his glee entertaining. "Gryffindor and Slytherin have the same class at three thirty."

Hermione groaned. "Perfect."

"Isn't it?" And then he started chattering about Quidditch again. He didn't notice when Hermione sighed, checking her watch for the time.

"At least there are no more classes I might miss today," she muttered to herself, and headed to the library to return the books she had lugged into class. Draco remained at her side the entire way.

✦

"Go away." Hermione turned the page in Quidditch Through the Ages, reading out another tip. Neville was eating it up, sitting close to her and turning his tiny wrapped package over in his fingers. Draco rolled his eyes, leaning over them and dropping a neatly wrapped package on the table.

Hermione looked over instantly. "What's that?"

"Your winnings."

Her and Neville both looked up at him now, surprised. "What did I win?"

"The bet about whether or not I'd make it so you weren't in a different house."

She frowned. "You took that seriously?"

"Well, yeah. Open your package. I need to know if it's a good choice, or if you'd prefer something else. Mother's note says it was the most expensive one there."

Ah, now she understood. She eagerly tore the plain paper away, positively beaming when she caught sight of the gilded cover. To his eyes, it would seem as though she didn't care that it was fancy - not so; she was merely more interested in the contents, at least for the moment. "The Rationale Behind the Ministry. This isn't meant to be out until Christmas! How did you get it?"

Draco shrugged. "Money and mother. She sent it. Does that mean you like it?"

"Like it? Draco, I can't ever pay you back for this."

"Well, you are mine. You'll have everything you could want, anyway, it's not like you didn't before."

"It's a Remembrall!" Draco grimaced at Neville's outburst, leaning over and plucking it out of his hand. Across the table, Harry and Ron jumped to their feet. Hermione grabbed Draco's arm, mostly because she expected him to attack them. It certainly wouldn't be a 'once in a blue moon' occurrence if he picked a fight with Harry Potter and his lackey. She would have snorted, if she wasn't so concerned that he was about to get thoroughly beaten - she'd heard Harry and Ron complaining enough about Draco in the common room to be fully aware of what they would dish out, given the opportunity.

"What's going on?" came McGonagall's voice from directly behind Draco. He scowled as Neville remained silent, letting Ron snap an explanation that was a complete lie.

"Malfoy's nicked Neville's Remembrall."

"He has not!" That was Hermione, narrowing her eyes at the red-head. "He's -"

"Just looking," Draco cut in, stopping the argument before it could start. He turned and left, a single pale student all alone in the masses that filled the hall.

✦

While they were waiting for their first flying lesson to start, Draco and Hermione stood a little behind Neville. She had started on about the value of a Remembrall: "All they really do is confuse and annoy the owner."

"I suppose I know what to get you for Christmas."

"No, Draco, I'm serious. Poor Neville, he was so worked up over the idea that he'd forgotten something, it distracted him all morning. Professor McGonagall even called him out on it just before lunch, it was awful."

"Potter seems more worried about the thing than Neville, to be honest with you, Hermione. Didn't you notice how he acted at breakfast? He jumped right up. Probably would've thrown himself at me if McGonagall hadn't shown up."

"And good thing, too! Ron's bigger than you, he'd have the advantage in a fight."

"I bet I can get Potter to threaten me first."

She groaned at this suggestion. "Seriously? Do you have to?"

"Are you going to take the bet or not?"

Hermione considered this for a long moment, tilting her head back to look up at the sky. Draco wanted the bet to stick. He thought for a moment, then told her his terms. "I'll ask them to stop sending me the lists if you win."

"Fine. And I'll stop complaining about it if you win."

"Deal."

They shook on it before Madam Hooch ordered them onto their brooms. Less than ten minutes later, the lesson was unofficially over, Neville was on his way to the hospital wing, and Draco had been glared at for laughing. It wasn't that he thought Neville had earned it, it was more that everyone else had been surprised when he panicked: they mustn't have been paying much attention, to be surprised by Neville's failure, he thought.

"Did you see his face?" he asked Hermione, referring to the pain-filled relief he'd seen in Neville's eyes and almost grinning. Of course the other Gryffindors' took it badly.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Parvati Patil snapped without hesitating.

"Oh, don't you dare," Hermione shook her head, but she'd spoken too quietly to get anything more than a smirk from Draco. She watched as it faltered when Pansy defended him, switching to an irritated scowl. She was fully aware that this would be a great chance for him to win the bet, especially as he darted forward, grabbing the fallen Remembrall off of the lawn.

"Hey, he dropped this thing." I'd better give this back when-

"Give that here, Malfoy," Harry said. Hermione groaned aloud, not that anyone noticed her, except from Draco, who only smiled at her. I've got this one, it seemed to say.

"I think I'll be taking this, Potter."

"Give it here!"

And Draco mounted his broom, rising up into the sky. Hermione watched in horror as the Gryffindor boy mounted his own broom. "No!" He glanced at her, and she quickly realised that she couldn't order him to stay put so that she wouldn't lose a bet with a boy he didn't like at all. "Madam Hooch told us not to move-you'll get us all into trouble."

But then Harry was off, and from the ground it looked absolutely terrifying, at least to Hermione, who hated heights. Draco was of a different opinion, one that had him grinning and missing the horrified stare she fixed on the pair. That smile faltered, though, when Potter said something he didn't like, something that was offensive towards Hermione, an insult that sounded unnatural dripping from the lips of the boy who lived. The Remembrall slipped from his fingertips, and while he found his feet, Potter caught the thing. McGonagall dragged him off quickly.

Draco grimaced as Hermione timidly found her place beside him again. "We should go check on Neville."

"Should we?"

"Yes, certainly. Tell him Harry has his Remembrall. And by the way, you lost the bet."

"I did not!"

"He didn't threaten you, just went after you."

"That's just a detail."

"You lost, Draco. Admit it."

"Details, Hermione!"