Draco sat at the end of his house-table, his eyes focused on nothing that pertained to him. The noise of the Great Hall pierced his ears, becoming the one prominent thing. It was a chaotic mess, as always. It made him turn up his nose, scoff darkly at home seemingly normal everyone was. He hated that they did because it was non constant, it could change at any given moment. Some days everyone was in a thick gloom, drowning in it, and in other days everyone acted like it was just another year at their previous school. It was like they all agreed to pretend they weren't all inching to death every second that passed. They just continued to eat, talk, laugh — like there wasn't any sort of tension or pressure on them.

At the furthest end of the Slytherin house-table, he noticed a First Year girl make her way with her dinner. Her eyes were a sort of innocent blue, the kind that one would associate with a cloudless day. As this little girl joined the other huddled group of First Years, he couldn't miss the glint of terror that was common among the younger students. Every step she'd taken, well, Draco imagined she was leaving her life behind her, along with all her chance of survival.

He wasn't a sentimental person at all, that was a given, but he couldn't fight off the pity he felt for the First Year girl. When the moment came, and it would come,  he knew the First Year wouldn't stand a chance. In fact, none of them will remain in tact...

Bang.

"Nott!" Pushing those doomed thoughts away, Draco saw Pansy Parkinson standing over Theodore Nott's body, a goblet firmly clutched in her hand as she waved it threateningly at him.

Laughing hysterically from the floor, his arms protecting his face as Pansy shook furiously in her stance over him, Nott said, "Oh, come on, Pans, it was just a joke."

"I don't find it funny, you idiot!" Pansy shouted once more, kicking him on the ribs with her left foot. "Keep your hands to yourself or I will rip them off and feed them to you!"

Nott moved his protection away from his face to reach his arms forward, holding on to each of Pansy's legs. "You looked a little tense, love. I just wanted to loosen you up." He ran his fingers up her legs, trying to lift his back off the ground to go higher up her legs.

Clearly still not finding the situation amusing, Pansy raised her foot off from the ground and smashed it down to Nott's chest. "I—am—not—your—toy," she kicked him with every word, not swayed when he tried to push her away from him, huffing painfully with every hit. "Touch—me—one—more—time—"

"All right, all right. That's enough,"

"—and—I'll—kill—you!"

Appearing at the Slytherin table, Blaise Zabini took a hold of Pansy's waist, lifting her away from a gasping Theodore Nott. She struggled with him, not knowing who had dared to touch her during her current seething phase. Once she heard Zabini whisper in her ear, she stopped fighting against him.

Blaise thrust Pansy onto her seat, ignoring the frown the witch was giving him. "Cool it, Parkinson," he warned like a parental figure. "You're going to get all of us in trouble again. And I am not going to go through another round of detention for you. Understood?"

From the floor, after finding himself able to breathe without his ribs hurting, Nott started laughing again. "I guess she's in a bad mood," he mocked as he extended his arm out to Blaise, who graciously decided to help him up. "I'll try again later."

Blaise rolled his eyes at Nott. He was clearly annoyed with his friend, as he often was due to Nott's careless attitude and need to always cause problems everywhere he went. "I'm guessing you two aren't getting back together, right? Murder is not something to base a relationship on — considering how it previously ended, that is."

"We were never together," Pansy huffed, looking insulted by the comment.

"That's right," Theodore agreed after sipping water, his white face slowly easing from the red that had invaded his cheeks, "we weren't. Pansy was just trying to see if Malfoy would finally notice her if she hooked up with one of his friends. And since Zabini clearly refused to assist, I gladly offered my services like any decent bloke would do."

Slytherins around Draco began to laugh. He sneered back at them. "Leave me out of this."

Pansy dropped her head on the surface of the house-table, muttering deadly curses that arose from her embarrassment.

Ignoring her, Malfoy turned to Blaise and said, "Where the hell were you all night, Zabini? We had things to discuss."

"Places, Malfoy," his friend responded. And by the questioning look on his face, Zabini added, "places that you don't need to worry about. Okay?"

Draco glared, waving the subject off as unimportant as he stood up, shoving a letter to Zabini that he'd gotten in the morning run of mail. "We have things to discuss," he repeated, and as Zabini grudgingly took the letter, Malfoy turned on his heels to signal that it was time to walk out of the noisy and crowded Great Hall.

Scanning the letter, ignoring the bits of Mrs. Malfoy worrying about her precious boy, Zabini felt something inside of him contract. His dark skin ran cold, tensing. Of course it would be bad news, how could they have not expected it with the world in flames outside their protected walls?

About to turn the corner, lost in his thoughts once more, something collided with Malfoy. "Watch it, you bloody—" The clear and profound rage that was usual on his face was halted, his wand freezing halfway to the person he was going to attack when he noticed that it wasn't a student.

Standing there, white robes wrinkled from the impact she suffered by colliding with Malfoy's shoulder, Aphrodite Venus narrowed her eyes at the student.

"Sorry about that, Ms. Venus," Blaise muttered for his friend, knowing that with their current affairs Malfoy would never apologize to someone who was on good terms with McGonagall. "He's just clumsy today."

Draco frowned, his nose scrunching in disgust, but he said nothing.

By the crude way his face twisted, Ms. Venus raised a blonde brow, the wrinkles around her eyes becoming a little more apparent. From inside her white robes, the woman pulled out a notepad and a golden pen. With one more judging look at Draco Malfoy, she wrote something down and headed away from the two Slytherins.

X

The Potions dungeon was extremely cold and lightly dimmed. The faint light came from a few lit candles between the spaces of the separated work tables. Usually, when they were working on their potions, so there would be no accidents with the elixirs or a confusion in ingredients, the classroom was bright with light created by the professor. Seeing as he was yet to arrive, the low candlelight and the loud chatter was clear indication that students were going to take advantage of their momentary freedom.

All but Hermione, of course. She was desperately trying to read the book she'd yet been able to finish, but was failing miserably when she found herself surrounded by her two best friends. She loved them, she did, but, Merlin, couldn't she have a moment to herself?

"Seamus and Lavender are planning something," as soon as he'd reached the table where Harry and Hermione sat together, Ron took it upon himself to end their mindless conversation. "Something important, apparently. I heard them when I was gathering my lacewing flies."

Harry raised an eyebrow at him, setting down his quill over his unfinished homework. "Is it a plan that could help me finish this Transfiguration essay?"

"Erm, no," Ron said, looking at the bespectacled Gryffindor like he had just lost his marbles. "But, apparently, something's up with Parvati. Lavender was telling Seamus about it. And since it's obvious that Finnegan likes Patil, they're on a mission to figure her out. They think she's traded sides or something."

Before Harry could say anything, Hermione snorted from her seat. "You're paying attention to gossip now, Ronald?"

"It's something that we should be worried about if it's true," Ron snapped at her. "Parvati is constantly around us. She knows things. She's heard us talking before — she's in the D.A and practically in the Order with the rest of us. If Lavender, her best friend, thinks she's changed then it's a problem. I think we should look into it, that's all."

Harry and Hermione shared a look. For a moment they seemed to be carefully calculating what Ron  just informed them of, but the idea was quickly brushed aside. The two Gryffindors laughed at the issue Ron presented.

"Sure, laugh it off. But what if Patil turns out to be a snitch? We're going to be in a mess," he added, frowning.

Shaking her head at the clear joke, Hermione sighed as she blinked back up at Ron. "Come off it, Ron. Lavender's probably saying that because Parvati has matured a little more over the summer. While your dearest girlfriend is watching Dean Thomas through a telescope from a tower, Parvati's being reasonable about everything else. It ridiculous that Lavender would even bring that up. What a nutter."

Ron turned a little red at the ears, looking down at the jar of lacewing flies he had gone to fetch. "She's not my girlfriend anymore," he muttered back.

Watching a little awkwardly as that subject was brought up, Harry was instantly grateful when the light in the room became brighter, illuminating the other tables and students in the dungeon as the door swung open.

"Sorry I'm late," Professor Slughorn said quickly, fixing his hat as he wobbled in.

Resentfully, the conversations died down and the Gryffindor and Slytherin Seventh Years took their places at their respective tables. It was amusing to Hermione how instant their bored looks were brought on.

"Today we'll be splitting the potion productivity in half. Some of you will do the Blood-Replenishing Potion and the others will be doing Murtlap Essence," Slughorn said to his students.

Harry raised an eyebrow at the professor's assignment, looking up at Hermione and whispered, "Yeah, he's definitely preparing for war."

Hermione cracked a little smile, but did not say anything as Slughorn continued. 

"Before we begin, however, we're going to divide the class in a way that Ms. Venus suggested," his voice was unconvinced, nervous almost. Nonetheless, the professor raised a hand out to point out the clear division in his classroom. "Slytherins on the left side of the tables, you'll be paired with the Gryffindors on the left side of the table across from you. And the same goes for the ones on the right."

There was an instant boom of groans and complaints.

"Hush, hush, now," Slughorn called. "Headmistress McGonagall supports Ms. Venus' choice here, there is nothing that I can do. Now, find your partner and get started. If you do no participate, you can expect serious consequences."

Still in full-mode of complaint, the Potions students did not begin to move quietly. Everyone made their dislike apparent.

"Oh, great," Ron huffed, peeking over his house-mates' shoulders to look at the Slytherin on the right side of his table. "I've got Goyle. You know we're going to end up blowing something up."

Harry copied Ron's actions, looking over Hermione's head to look at his Slytherin on the right. "Damn it. It's Zabini," he sighed in defeat, gathering his things to head to the table across from the one he was sitting at.

Hermione gave both her boys a light-hearted wave, then looked down at her school things. She didn't bother looking for her partner because she didn't really care what Slytherin it was. Regardless, she was going to finish her potion as efficiently as possible and then rid herself of the Slytherin present.

Though her resolve was a justified one, Hermione couldn't help the shivers of uneasiness when her nose caught the whiff of the Slytherin Prince. She kept her gaze on her parchment of notes, holding tightly onto the fragile stem of her quill, trying to calm herself before bile rose up her throat. With a collective breath, her brown gaze met a cold and distant silver one.

At the clear fist the Gryffindor Princess made when she looked at him, Draco Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her in equal displeasure as he dropped his book carelessly onto her desk, making it thump against her own belongings. Without saying anything, he took a seat on the bench Potter had left open.

"Okay," Slughorn looked at his class warily, watching the disastrous mix of students, "the right side of the room will work on Murtlap Essence and the left will be assigned the Blood-Replenishing Potion. Please get started now. You have one hour."

X

The first forty minutes of class had gone by as normal as it could with Gryffindors and Slytherins paired together. There was the occasional insult, the shove, the snort, but most of it was subdued since Slughorn kept them all in line by reminding them this was their final year, and if they did not pass his class, they wouldn't be able to complete their Hogwarts education.

So as time ticked by especially slow, sitting at the furthest edge of the bench as they could, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were the only pair working with dead silence. She, as it was to be expected, had split their duties for their brewing of the Blood-Replenishing Potion; talking had not been required from either of them. That is, until Malfoy noticed something in the directions in the book that he had not expected.

Before he could decide what to do,  Weasel appeared at the front of his table. 

"Mione," he began with a whine, sounding like an annoying puppy Malfoy would be happy to kick, "you're the expert on Murtlap Essence. Can you check our potion, please?"

"I'm working on the Blood-Replenishing Potion, Ronald, and it's far more complicated than your potion." Hermione looked up at Ron, an apologetic smile on her face. "Why don't you ask Harry to help?"

"It's Harry, Hermione," Ron said, "he's complete rubbish at Potions just as I am. Unless you let us go and fetch his old Potions book, then neither of us will pass this class without your help."

Hermione frowned instantly. "Yes, of course, because that turned out brilliant." At the heavy sarcasm tainting her voice, Ron sighed and headed back to his table where Goyle was trying to figure out what to do next.

Taking the opportunity of the idiot Weasel King's departure, Draco grudgingly turned to the brunette. "Granger," he called, his chest hurting with the deep need to hurl, "we've got a problem."

Turning to him, Hermione raised an eyebrow at the blonde Slytherin, waiting for him to continue.

He glared at her, hating that he was the one who broke the silence and she somehow marveled in that. "In order to complete the potion, the final step is for the brewer to give some of their blood."

Hermione reached the end of her side of the desk, yanking her potions book and looking at the open page of directions. And clear enough, the ferret was right: the potion needed human blood, the brewer's blood, in order to be completely functional.

"You do it," she finally spoke, turning back to her things and not facing him. "Slughorn said we're allowed to keep a flask of our potion once it's done."

Malfoy kept his glare. "And what do you mean by that, Granger?"

"It means you can keep both flasks after we're done."

Stubborn and easily infuriated as it was in his nature, the Slytherin did not wave his clear hatred away. "I'm not cutting myself open to pour some of my blood into a stupid potion."

Hermione turned to him, her glare matching his. "Fine, Malfoy," she said through gritted teeth, "I'll do it. I'll pour some of my blood into the potion. And when the time comes that you're injured and need the Blood-Replenishing Potion, you'll be drinking my blood. Satisfied now?"

Malfoy tightened his lips in a line, disgust on his face. "I don't want your dirty blood, Granger."

The Gryffindor clung tighter to her cutting knife, her blood boiling. "And I don't want yours, Malfoy. It might have escaped your notice, but coward's blood isn't exactly beneficial."

Without thinking, without managing to contain himself, Draco stood from the bench and knocked the small cauldron of incomplete potion onto her lap.

At the clear commotion, at Hermione's gasp as the hot liquid pierced through the fabric of her school robes, the dungeon went quiet.

Alike Malfoy, unable to contain her rage, Hermione's arm twitched in memory and she lifted it up. Instead of slapping him hard across the face like how she'd done in their Third Year, Hermione's hand balled into a fist and she made it collide with his jaw. Malfoy stumbled back, a dangerous rage in his eyes as he pulled his wand out in retaliation.

The classroom came alive: Gryffindors got up from their places, all of them joining together and pointing their wands at Malfoy and any other Slytherin who moved an inch to assist him.

Before Ron or Harry could sprint forward, Professor Slughorn raised his own wand and voice. "Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy!" He was frowning now, sounding so enraged and bewildered at such juvenile behavior. "Go to McGonagall's office, both of you! You both failed this assignment."

Not bothering to gather her stuff, Hermione was the first to turn on her heels and head to the exit of the Potions classroom. Soon enough, leaving a trail of anger and slight humiliation behind him, Malfoy followed after her.

Once outside, the door closing behind them like a giant barrier, Draco let his rage take over him as he gripped the brunette's arm, forbidding her to take another step as he spun her around.

 "That is the last time you ever dare strike me, Granger!" His fingernails clawed into the thin skin of her wrist. "I won't hesitate to return the gesture next time."

Before the Gryffindor could respond, turning the corner of the corridor, Aphrodite Venus' ears perked up; the voices now engraved in her head as she was quick to identify them. When she approached silently, she pulled out her notepad and golden pen, stopping in the shadows as Hermione's voice rung.

"Do it," Hermione snapped, her eyes automatically collected tears by the sting she felt from his grip. "Hit me, Malfoy. It's what a coward would do, and we both know you are one."

By the clear way that he contracted his fingers, Aphrodite could see the young man digging deeper into the girl's skin, not moved by her discomfort. And before he could do something he'd regret, before she could say something that would cross a line, Aphrodite raised her right hand at them from the shadows.

"Ex contemno delecto," Aphrodite Venus chanted, watching as golden threads appeared in the air, heading for the two arguing students, "ex diligo odio," the golden lights spread around them, wrapping them with its threads, "planto illa duos animus animadverto suum fortuna."

She finished saying her incantation and watched silently as the golden sparks invaded their skin, their souls outlining outside their bodies; oblivious to them. Once their souls fought their way out of their respective bodies, flowing out in a smooth way, Aphrodite pulled out her notepad once more as the souls entered the opposite body.

Marking another note on the paper, the woman hid in the shadows until both students had enough and they stomped their individual ways to wherever it was that they were headed. Neither of them even realized their lives were going to change forever.