In all her years of being best friends with Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the number one target of any dark wizard or witch, Hermione Granger knew that the concept of time was not to be taken lightly. Every hour, every minute, every second was precious. Every moment of time held valuable information that could be deadly or save them all for another day to come.

Time was not to be messed with, meddled with, or wasted. Time, to them, to those ferociously loyal to Harry, was almost like an analogy of sand seeping through the cracks of your fingers. It was quick, like the wind. There was not one moment of all those years that Hermione did not blink and wondered where Time had gone.

Now, however, after she was viciously morphed into the Slytherin Prince's body, Time was being a bitch and taking its time to get the show on the road.

She blinked up from the parchments of homework scattered on her table, looking at the magical clock hanging on the wall ahead of her. Two minutes had passed since the last time she checked. And two minutes ago, like the past few hours she'd managed to walk in Malfoy's shoes, literally, she wanted to kill herself.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Looking away from the clock that was not budging, that was dragging its second hand  painfully slow, Hermione narrowed her eyes at the dark-haired witch in front of her, who tapped her finger loudly on the tabletop. 

"I can't believe we almost had a free double Potions," Pansy sighed in annoyance, forgetting all about the work in front of her. "But, of course, leave it to the old hag McGonagall to come swooping in and telling us to use the four hours to study for our N.E.W.T's."

Next to Pansy, Daphne Greengrass, a girl with luscious blonde hair and intimidating eyes, scoffed at the girl's comment. "There should be no complaining on your behalf, Pansy. From your poor marks last year, you need all the time to study in order to make it out of here in a few months."

"Oh, precious, precious, annoyingly brainy Daphne," Pansy spoke with her voice thick in irritated sarcasm. "Can you please take your righteous attitude and move it to the Ravenclaws at the other end of the library?"

Hermione blinked away from the two girls in front of her, her eyes darting past them and onto the clock on the wall behind them. As she did so, she noticed the aisles of books, the students gathered in circled-tables and studying together. She knitted her eyebrows, frowning to herself. Not only was Time torturing her, it was also messing with her concentration.

"Forgive me if I'm actually smart enough," Daphne Greengrass retorted in returning, earning her  Hermione's attention again. "Or what is it, Pansy? Are you counting on the school to blow up once the Death Eaters manage get in, just so you won't have to bother with your education?"

Pansy looked instantly enraged, her dark eyes impossibly darker. "Why do you always have to bring that up?" 

Despite the anger on Pansy's face, Daphne did not budge. "Because you're the one who can't wait for that moment," she hissed back. "Because you seem to be under the diluted idea that once that happens, you'll be spared and treated like the princess you wish to be."

"Seems to me, Greengrass, that you're implying I'm going to be killed." Pansy was still aggravated, but something changed in her eyes. "Because if that's your diluted idea, then I suggest you revise it. Who do you think will go first? Me or you—the Blood Traitor?"

Hermione's attention was far away from the clock now as she stared shockingly at the two Slytherins.

"Under your definition, Parkinson, what makes me the Blood Traitor?" Daphne continued the fight. "The fact that my education is far more important to me than wishfully waiting for Death Eaters to come and rescue me? Or, perhaps, it's the fact that I've chosen to refrain myself from picking a side, alike my family? Is that what makes us enemies?"

Just as Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass were glaring at each other, with something that wasn't quite a full-on hate, Hermione saw herself enter the library. She saw her small body gliding through the aisles of tables, a sort of whoosh to her step, like she was a furious tornado on a rampage.

Hermione carefully reached for a compact mirror Pansy pulled out an hour or so ago when she started complaining about pimples. As she did, just as she slid it on the surface of the table, she looked down at the small, circular glass and found grey eyes staring back at her.

Of course, she thought to herself. She wasn't in some sort of trance—a very bad one at that—and the realization that the Hermione Granger scowling with fury a few feet ahead was the owner of the body she was currently in.

When they locked eyes, the borrowed silver she currently wore and the brown that were robbed from her, Hermione nodded. Clearing her throat, trying to find her Slytherin within, she slammed her fist over the compact mirror, startling the two witches in front of her.

"Will you two shut the hell up?" Malfoy's voice rung between the table Hermione was sitting in, coming out of her lips. "Fight and glare at each other somewhere else! I need to study, and I'll hex both of you without a second thought if you keep talking!"

Pansy and Daphne widened their eyes, a little skeptical and surprised. In that moment Hermione thought it was because of the angry hisses she'd thrown at them, but she didn't realize the two Slytherin witches gaped because Malfoy hadn't shouted or filled himself with rage since their Fifth Year. Not since he'd been ordered to kill Dumbledore, and definitely not after the events that happened the previous summer.

"We...err...We'll just be going then," Daphne said hesitantly, suddenly no longer upset with Pansy as they both collected their things and she threw the dark-haired girl a knowing stare.

Not bidding him a farewell or a look of questioning, especially since she'd snogged him earlier, Pansy rushed away with Daphne. Now leaving the girl—or boy, in that cursed moment—alone as the Brightest Witch of the Age quickly took the seat Pansy had left.

"Please tell me you weren't having a heart to heart with them, Granger." Dropping some things on the tabletop that were Hermione's but he'd been carrying around all day, Draco Malfoy narrowed his vision at himself. "You might still be a girl inside there, but it's me. I don't have counseling sessions with my house-mates."

Hermione frowned at Malfoy, loathing the way he was making her face twist like the devil was inside of her. "It took you long enough to get here, Malfoy. What were you doing, eating the entire feast?"

Draco's annoyance suddenly leveled up another step. "No," he snapped, "I didn't even get a chance to eat. Since there were no Potions, your bloody Gryffindors dragged me to your common room so you could check their homework. After that, it was impossible to get out of their sight. I had to fake menstrual cramps to dodge Weaselbee."

Not really hearing Malfoy's complaints fully, Hermione remembered what Zabini had said when he found her (well, when he found 'Malfoy'). "Hey, Malfoy," she looked up at him, ignoring the rambling he was still doing, "I need you to do me a favor while you're in my body."

Malfoy said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

"You're going to have to talk to them, the Gryffindors," she said, feeling a little nervous despite herself.

"About what?" he asked with boredom.

"You need to convince them to lay off the Slytherins. And when you do it, make sure you say it like I would. Don't command them, don't shout at them. Just use the fact that we can't afford getting into trouble right now. Tell them...Tell them they're supposed to be practicing. Simple as that."

Keeping the bored expression, Malfoy said, "And why would you want me to do that, Granger? So you won't have to hex one of them once they decide to attack the Slytherins?"

"So they'll leave Zabini alone," she snapped at him. "I don't know what's exactly going on with him, but I know he doesn't need the stress of a stupid rivalry to add to his problems."

Instead of hearing a crude remark slip past her mouth, Hermione watched from Malfoy's body as he kept her mouth shut for a moment. After a tensed second past, he said, "Have you found anything about what happened to us?"

Dragging air into her lungs, Hermione turned to the empty chair beside her. "I didn't have much luck," she said firmly, grabbing a book she had hidden underneath it. "Turns out the only thing that comes close to a body-switch is the Polyjuice Potion."

"But Polyjuice Potion allows someone to turn into someone else for an hour," Malfoy replied, looking upset once more as Hermione was flipping through her thick book. "Our souls left our bodies and swapped with one another. And it's been more than one bloody hour!"

"Souls," Hermione scoffed, "like you have one." She rolled her eyes, glancing down at the single page of information she managed to find that somehow came close to their current mishap. "I know it's completely useless, but, honestly, the Polyjuice Potion is the only thing that relates to what happened. And since we've established that it can't be the answer to our situation, I want to say it had to do with the potion we were brewing in Potions."

Malfoy snatched the book from his own hands, staring down at the page she'd been reading. "As dense as that sounds, Granger, I think you could be right." He glared at the explanation of Polyjuice Potion on the page. "There might have been a faulty ingredient or elixir we were exposed to that lesson."

"We need to tell someone." Straightening herself on her chair, Hermione kept a hard expression on as Malfoy flashed her brown eyes back at her, making them look apprehensive. "We have to go to McGonagall, or even Slughorn. We need help to fix this."

Draco tensed immediately. "Are you mental? We cannot tell anyone about this."

"Why not?" Hermione hissed back. "I don't have answers or solutions, Malfoy. We're screwed here, in case you haven't noticed. We need help. I'm not going to spend any more time as you if I can help it."

Slam.

"I said no!" Draco glared , keeping the hand he slapped on the surface of the table still and hard. "What do you think they'll do to me once you tell them? You seem to be forgetting the staff of this bloody school has taken an oath to report any single mishap that's happened to the parents of the students."

"Oh, well of course!" Hermione huffed indignantly. "Let us waste more time—let me waste more of my precious time just so your mummy and daddy won't find out that you've become undesirable muggle-born number one!"

As quick as Hermione's irritation had sparked, as quick as her angry words left the mouth she'd taken from him, Malfoy felt his own fury double. "Why the hell does everything have to be your way?" He could feel his anger vibrate with his mind, but it was her hands the shook with his fury. "My home is currently used by You-Know-Who, in case you've forgotten! If they inform my parents, it's informing him! Do you even realize what that can mean, Granger?"

Looking a little startled—feeling startled—by some kind of flash of fear Malfoy had accidentally slipped out, Hermione did not notice when three bodies made their way to her and Draco after they  heard their ruckus from their individual places in the library.

"Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy," Appearing before two Gryffindor boys that sprinted to the table at the end of the library, Aphrodite Venus stared pointedly at the Slytherin and Gryffindor. "Are you two not capable of restraining yourselves? This is the second time today I find you two bickering like children."

As she'd been the one who wasn't fuming as much before Ms. Venus' approached, Hermione tightened the stranger-lips and looked apologetically at the woman.

"Perhaps you two wouldn't find yourselves in this predicament if you knew how to set your differences aside," the woman added through the silence the Gryffindor and the Slytherin were adapting. As she said that, both  looked up at her; a mix of confusion and hope in their eyes. A hope that was instantly squashed when she said, "Now, I hope whatever assignment you two are working on together, because of that embarrassing scene Slughorn said you caused in his lesson yesterday, is completed without anymore fighting. I'd hate to have to inform Professor McGonagall about this."

 Hermione frowned to herself as Ms. Venus stormed past them without saying anything else as she scribbled unknown things in her notepad.

Taking the first second after the Ministry Official was out of sight, Ron made himself noticed by his side next to Harry. "Hermione, I thought you went to the Hospital Wing?"

Hermione was looking at Ron, her heart hurting as she hadn't noticed how much she missed him —how much she had missed Harry and him. It had been a few hours, but she missed their comfort and their warmth. But as she was staring at him, a few tears springing into her eyes, Hermione was ignored by the redhead.

Scowling, a little more controlled, Draco cleared his throat, feeling ashamed as he met the eyes of the Weasel. "Obviously I lied, Ronald," he managed to say in a tone he'd overheard so many times Granger speak with. "If I told you or Pot—Harry that I needed to meet Malfoy, you would've wanted to come along."

"With good reason," Ron said sternly. "You're forgetting he attacked you with a steaming potion last time you worked with him. You can't go about sneaking off, Hermione, especially not with this git. You might end up burned...Or tortured again."

When Ron said that, with the hatred and disgust evident in his voice, Hermione almost recoiled into her seat as his blue eyes daggered into her, towards the Slytherin she happened to be stuck as.

Hermione blinked away from Ron, looking at Malfoy as he narrowed her brown eyes, looking disgusted as well.

"Leave it, Ron." Saving the moment by some divine miracle, after throwing the Slytherin a calculating stare, Harry pulled his best friend back a step, his bespectacled eyes now on his other friend. "'Can your assignment with Malfoy wait, 'Mione? We need to talk to you. It's important."

Meeting his own silver eyes, looking at his own pale face that was now being controlled by Hermione Granger, Malfoy nodded at Potter,  brown curls flying around him as he did so. "I'll...Later, all right, Malfoy?"

Not giving Malfoy any chance to say anything to Hermione, Ron snatched the girl's schoolbag, grabbed one of her hands, and dragged her away from the table. Not once did he realize that he was holding her hand, but he had left Hermione behind on that table; her soul and mind inside Malfoy's body.

X

They were walking out to the grounds of the castle. The sky was a navy blue now, grey clouds instead of white; the glowing moon in the shape of a crescent, taking the place of the sun as it signaled that it was nighttime now. Despite the chilly weather, the wind brushing past them in a violating manner, freezing their skin, the Golden Trio continued a path away from the school and its students.

Harry and Ron were speaking silently with one another, Hermione caught in the middle as they exchanged comments about Quidditch. Neither noticed the scowling on their friend's brown eyes that was an exact replica of the original, famous Malfoy glare.

"No, I'm just saying she's a bad-mannered, ill-tempered, bitch and you need to get rid of her," Ron continued, his hand still clutched tightly to Hermione's. "We can't afford people like that in the team."

Shaking his disoriented black hair, Harry frowned. "I'm not getting rid of her. She's one of the best Chasers Gryffindor has seen in a while." And then passing Hermione's front, Harry managed to reach and punch Ron in the gut. "And don't call Ginny a bitch, Ron. She's your sister."

Snorting at that, Ron said, "So? She's still fairly nasty and a hazard."

"You're just still upset that Ginny asked McLaggen to join practices," Harry laughed.

As both boys phased into a comfortable bickering, the soul living inside of Hermione Granger's body was growing more aggravated the further they walked and the further they talked. So without holding back, Draco stopped abruptly, glaring at Weasley and Potter. "How further are we walking?" He was glaring now. "I'm freezing my arse off, and you two are leading us straight to the wards McGonagall has around the castle. If we take one more step, the Aurors are going to come hexing us."

Halting their conversation, Ron and Harry exchanged a look, both taken aback by their best friend's attitude.

"All right, I'm sorry, Hermione," Potter was the first to break the awkward moment. "I just wanted to get away from the castle. You know, security and privacy measures and all that."

Letting another single moment pass, Draco tried to collect his patience, remembering he was morphed into the world's biggest sympathetic and kind person. "Sorry," he mumbled, feeling like the manly-bits he left behind in his real body were about to disappear. "I'm just...Bad day."

Harry nodded once, but didn't press it. "Before I begin to tell you, 'Mione, you need to promise not to go yelling your knickers off. We've already established that I can't help it sometimes, and I don't want to be lectured."

"And, though you'll be mad, it's pretty brilliant," Weasley added, looking hopeful.

Before Draco could question what the hell they were on about, Harry's spoke once more. "I think I know where one of the Horcruxes is," there was some type of relief in his voice. "When you left, I sort of started dozing off. I've had a massive headache all day, but I didn't think much of it. Just stress, you know? But when I fell asleep, that's all it took. You-Know-Who was angry about something, furious. He killed a group of people, no clue who. But through that, he thought of something. Something that had Ravenclaw's symbol on it."

A little dumfounded — well, a lot dumfounded; completely lost and confused — Draco took a step back from Potter and Weasley,  certain that his confusion was pooling onto Granger's face.

What the hell were they on about? He thought to himself, his mind turning itself into a knot. Had Potter just insinuate he was inside the Dark Lord's mind? Did he just say that he has some sort of connecting with him that Granger knew was dangerous? And what the hell was a Horcrux?

Taking Hermione's silence as skepticism, however, Harry looked serious;, like he was discussing very important business. "I know what you're thinking, Hermione, but I'm certain of what I saw."

Clearing his throat, looking up from his lashes at Hermione, Ron said, "We know how you feel about...well, what happened in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault, but Harry had been right then, too. He knew the demented bint had a Horcrux hidden there."

Draco shook his temporarily-borrowed head, those brown curls flying around everywhere again. "Wait, wait. So...What are you saying?"

"That the Horcrux is here!" Harry almost but shouted desperately at the girl. "You-Know-Who hid a Horcrux inside the castle, Hermione. And by what I saw, it belonged to Ravenclaw. And if that's true, well, we're one step closer. We just need to find it."

Still completely at loss with Potter's ramblings about who-the-hell-knew, Draco knitted brown brows, trying his hardest to make his exterior look understanding. "Okay. So, that thing is here. Where do we find it? And what object of Ravenclaw's could it be, a random bird or what?"

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Harry puffed a chuckle. "Yeah, that would be practical, wouldn't it? But I doubt You-Know-Who's the pet type."

"Not unless you count that damned snake..." Draco widened his eyes, realizing a second late he let that slip.

For his luck, though, Harry had been mumbling something to Ron. "I think I'll go find a few of our Ravenclaw friends," he said, looking in thought. "Maybe one of them will know about a significant item that belonged to Ravenclaw."

"Just don't ask Cho," Ron yelled behind the Chosen One's retreating body. "Ginny will butcher you!"

A piece of his soul, Draco mused silently, his vision darted to the further grounds of the castle, to the bubble of protection at the boundaries. The Dark Lord cast a bit of his soul into something, he continued. What the hell was going on? What the hell did Potter have up his sleeves? How far into his plan to destroy the Dark Lord was Granger into? And how much of it did she know? How much of it was he supposed to know for Potter and the Weasel not to suspect anything?

Bringing him away from all his questions, the sound of a throat clearing uncomfortably, Draco glanced away from what laid yards away to find blue eyes staring at him intently. Scrunching up his nose a little, automatically loathing the way those eyes were gazing at him, he snapped, "What?"

The redhead Gryffindor cleared his throat again, looking uncomfortable as the girl's brown eyes had narrowed and looked upset. "Ginny mentioned that she thought something was wrong with you. You told her you were just tired, but I've seen you changing."

Inwardly, Malfoy let out a groan. It hadn't even been a complete day, and the Weasel had been the one to catch him? It had to be him to know that the girl standing before him wasn't technically that know-it-all girl, but his arch-enemy?

"It started since before we came to Hogwarts, Hermione. I could see it," Ron continued. "You didn't like the idea of coming back, I know. But...somehow, I feel like it has to do with me."

Draco raised an eyebrow, watching carefully as the Gryffindor took a step towards him, gently taking one of the hands of the body he was currently borrowing.

"I know you're disappointed in me," Weasley whispered to the brunette in front of him, his blue eyes looking miserable and ashamed. "And, I am too, Hermione. I'm disappointed that I left. That I walked out on you and Harry. But I meant what I said then, when I came back."

"Sure you did," Malfoy huffed, trying to take a step away from him.

"It was that blasted Horcrux, 'Mione," Ron continued, gripping her hand tighter, not letting Hermione go. "It made me think things...twist them. I know you love Harry as your brother, and I shouldn't have assumed more. I shouldn't...I shouldn't have made you choose between him and me. It wasn't...I just..." He stopped, looking at her deeply, wanting her to see; to know how sorry he was, how he didn't want her to be upset anymore that he'd left them—her.

And what came next, what possessed Ron to do it, was far beyond his own knowledge. All he knew is that he no longer had words, just feelings. And those feelings couldn't be said, they needed to be expressed. So without thinking twice about it, or thoroughly for that matter, he reeled her in by the hand he held. In less than a second, he closed his eyes, leaning down to her.

Watching with horrified eyes as Weasley was closing in on him, Draco looked like he wanted to vomit and scream surrender. Weaselbee was in love with Granger, in love! And seeing as he was not—in a form, yes—Granger, Draco slapped Weasley hard on the chest, shoving him away from Granger's body that he was currently using.

"Hermione, I—"

"Ow, ow, ow!" Draco cried dramatically, wincing to himself as Granger's squeaky voice pierced his hearing. "Ow! Merlin, ow!" He clutched onto Granger's stomach tightly, trying to make her face look absolutely in pain.

"Hermione, are you all right? What's wrong?"

 Weasley was trying to get his hands on the girl, but Malfoy slapped his hands away again. "I got to go," he said hurriedly, gripping Granger's schoolbag tightly. "Killer cramps, I'm sorry! My ovaries feel like they're exploding! Barmy period, I'm telling you!"

Leaving a confused and bewildered Gryffindor behind, Draco rushed as fast as he could back to the castle.

Salazar Slytherin have mercy on Draco's soul. He needed to get out of Granger's body before Weasley decided to declare his love for the muggle-born and Draco was the one who ended up snogging Potter's sidekick.