((Sure.))

"Crookshanks!" Hermione whispered loudly. It was the middle of the night, and her cat had gone missing. She exited the Griffindor area of Hogwarts, and walked the halls. She heard a meow, and followed it. Just as she rounded a corner, she saw her beloved cat jump into the portrait that led to the Slytherin quarters. "Crook, no!" She ran, but couldn't catch her cat. She stopped in front of the portrait, which was staring at her.

"Would you quiet down, please?" it said, frowning.

"But my cat-"

"I don't care. Go back to your room."

"No. My cat is in there."

"Sounds like a personal problem to me."

"You don't understand, Draco...."

"Draco, mate, calm down...."  

Draco stalked out of his room, practically seething with anger. The conversation echoed in his mind, currently fueling his fury. He had just caught a certain Blaise Zabini with a certain Pansy Parkinson. Draco's Pansy Parkinson, to be exact. He couldn't believe that Pansy would cheat on the Draco Malfoy, for Blaise Zabini! Oh, he'll show them. He'll show them both. They'll regret....

Meow!

The small cry interrupted Draco's thoughts. He looked down, seeing a big, ugly cat with a scrunched up face. Draco sneered at the pathetic creature. Wait a second, he thought, isn't that Granger's cat...?

Then he heard her voice, talking to the portrait, asking to go retrieve her cat. A thought flashed through his mind, and he grinned, picking up the cat - No matter how much it disgusted him to do so-, and swung open the portrait. "Missing something, Mudblood?" he sneered. 

"Oh, shut up, Dragon," Hermione sneered back, clearly making fun of his name. The mudblood comment sent a pang of sadness into her heart, though. She hated being called that. Even though she was a mudblood, she was still at the top of her classes.

She snatched her cat out of Draco's arms and kissed its head. "Crook, don't you ever run off again." She stood there, waiting to see if Draco had any more remarks that he could spit out, all the while watching her cat. Crookshanks really did have a face that only a mother could love, and Hermione was basically his mother. She had raised him from a kitten. Even then he had an ugly smashed-in face.

He could see the pain written all across Granger's face at the remark, and he knew he hit home.

He smirked, the said, "The cat's as ugly as you." He surveyed the cat's scraggly fur, his scrunched up face, and then his eyes turned to Granger. Her hair was in a disarray of brown curls, looking as if she just woke up -which she probably did-, and her face, scrunched up in a pathetic attempt to copy his signature sneer.

He shook his head sadly."No wonder it likes you so much," he said, looking at the cranky cat.

Hermione's hands shook as she fought back tears. "Shut up, Draco." She turned away and walked back to the Griffindor area. She walked through the portrait, and layed down in her bed. Tears were streaming down her face. She felt sick now. Crookshanks curled up beside her neck, and fell asleep. Hermione reached for her wand, and began to clench it in her hands. She didn't like this at all.

She turned to Crookshanks, who woke up at the movement. "Am I ugly?" she asked the cat, not expecting a real answer.

Crookshanks only meowed, and went back to sleep.

"Shut up, Draco," he mocked, rather childishly, as she walked down the hall. "Is that the best you've got?"

As soon as she was gone, he walked back into the common room. Mocking Granger always helped let out his anger. He sat down, watching the fire in the fireplace as it lashed at the wood logs viscously.

He didn't really think she was ugly. Really, she had grown up a lot since the first year. Her curls had grown more tamed, her lips had grown fuller, and her body had developed more curves. He thought she was quite beautiful, actually. So why do I hate her so? he asked himself, as he had many times.

But he knew it answer. It was because he was Slytherin and she was Gryffindor. It's because he was on the dark side and she was on the light side. It's because he was a Malfoy and she was a Mudblood.

He hated her because it was expected of him. He hated her because he had to.

{Wait, what year are we doing this in?} 

Hermione finally stopped crying and went to sleep. Crookshanks cuddled up closer to her, and purred.

~~~

Hermione early, as always. She didn't have classes that day. It was Saturday. She put on her regular clothes; a pair of skinny jeans, and a fitted t-shirt. She made sure that Crookshanks was locked up in her room before she went out into the courtyard. She sat down on one of the stone benches, and debated on what to do that day.

Ron came and sat beside her, and Harry sat on the other side. She felt like a Hermione sandwich. Hermione got up, and brushed her jeans off. "What?"

The two boys began speaking simultaneously, and then began arguing with eachother. Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. "Boys." She walked away, shaking her head. She walked to a nearby creek, and sat down on one of the larger rocks. She grabbed a flat stone, and skipped it across the flowing water.

 {I hafta go, be back later.}

Draco woke up at six in the morning, like he did every morning, weekend or not. He threw on some wizard robes, then strode outside for his usual morning walk. He walked in the general direction of the creek, the place where he tended to spend his time before Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott would awake. 

Along the way, he stumbled upon Potter and Weasley, and upon sight of them, his mouth raised into a habitual sneer. "Potter, Weasel," he greeted coldly. "Where's the Mudblood?"

Ron growled. "Don't call her a Mudblood."

"We don't know where she is," Harry said, looking at Malfoy. "Why do you want to know? Stalking her?"

Ron chuckled at Harry's remark. "Why are you wearing your robes? Today is Saturday. And I think Hermione might be at that stream. She usually goes there when she wants to be alone."

~~~

Meanwhile, Hermione was looking at her reflection in the water. her curls surrounded her face like ivy crawling up a wall, and her eyes were the same chocolate brown as her hair. Brown hair, brown eyes. She was so ordinary, or at least she thought she was.

((Um... I forgot which ages go with what year, but Hermione is fourteen, about to turn fifteen. Sorry about that.

EDIT: Fourth year.))

Ron was silent, and Harry sighed.

"Fine. Go find her," Harry said.

Ron had been holding back anger at what Draco said. "If you upset her, you'll regret it," Ron said, clenching his fists.

~~~

Hermione continued throwing rocks in the stream. She liked this stream. Hardly anyone came there, so she would spend time there practicing her spells, and drawing in the sand that lined the water.

"Would you please stop calling me that? I have a name." Hermione almost growled. "Crookshanks is locked up in my room. Why are you here?" She had her hand on her wand, ready to cast a spell if Draco planned to do something mean.

"Fine. Granger." Draco wasn't in the mood to argue. He had an awful headache and being in the presence of all three of the Golden Trio within the span of 5 minutes didn't help. He had a Death Eater meeting in a few hours and he knew that he would be punished soon for not completing the task he was given.

He shook his head to clear the thoughts and sat down. "I just want a place to sit in peace," he growled. "Quietly," he added after an afterthought. He knew Granger had a big mouth, and if he didn't shut her up now, she'd prod him to no end.

"That's what I came here for. Go away. And my name is Hermione. Not Granger." Hermione put her head in her hands due to the frustration. "Why do you have your robes on?" She turned around to face him. "It's Saturday."