Beside the many obvious reasons as to why Draco did not understand Muggles, the way they lived or how they managed to get by doing everything by hand, the main thing that bewildered him was their concept of God and the Devil.

He once heard a Muggle-Born, a Ravenclaw, talking about the Devil. The Ravenclaw had committed a sin, Draco had overheard, and knew he was going straight to hell without this God forgiving him for it. Draco did not know exactly what the Ravenclaw had done to damn himself so thoroughly, but now the idea of two opposite beings was implanted in Draco's head. Unbeknownst to him of why it was so important, Draco searched for the answer in textbooks.

For most Muggles religion is a key factor of their lives. It is their belief that there is a balance between Good and Bad, Light and Dark. God is the person that resides in Heaven, that created people and watches over them from above.  He is the ultimate being. He is the one with the power to save you, your soul, and the ones you love. Now, the Devil's the exact opposite. He is the one that drags you down, that puts you down roads of temptation that will seduce you to breaking every rule religion says goes against God. The Devil is the Prince of Darkness, the one that will destroy without mercy.

So, as he sits on an armchair, surrounded by people that annoy him, that he would hex without a second thought, Draco is certain the Muggle's God is punishing him for the sins he has committed. Draco was to suffer in silent misery as a penalty for those sins while the Devil laughs in the background.

"So, what do you think?"

Blinking away from his internal cursing, Draco  looked up at a redhead with brown eyes that were not his. "About what?" he managed to say in a Granger-like tone.

The Gryffindor redhead untucked her legs from beneath her, sitting upright on the ground by the fireplace where she had several parchments scattered around her. "About the ending paragraph for my Herbology essay. It's due next hour, remember?" When her friend did not respond, Ginny Weasley raised an eyebrow. "Where's your head, Hermione? You've been looking distracted since breakfast."

Swallowing a retort about how she should mind her own damn business, how her essay was none of his concern, and the fact that she depended on Know-it-All Granger to deem it acceptable was pathetic, Draco settled on shrugging his shoulders. "Just tired," he responded, knowing that was the best explanation.

However, not counting that she was far more attuned to Hermione's way of being, Ginny narrowed her eyes at the person before her. "You've been ill, haven't you?"

Draco rose a brow that was not his. He could feel himself becoming confused, sure that the exterior reflected Granger's warm tendencies — something that he wasn't.

"I know we promised never to bring the subject up, but I think it's necessary," Ginny said to her friend, now worried. "I know that you're trying to handle what happened on your own, maybe for Harry's sake, but you — "

Just as Malfoy was edging to the end of the armchair, unwillingly interested with what the Weaslette was about to bring up, a group of Gryffindors tossed themselves onto the couch beside his armchair, disrupting everything.

"Bloody Slytherins," Dean Thomas grumbled first, leaning back tiredly on the couch.

Forgetting all about what she was going to divulge, Ginny threw a questioning stare at the boy. "What did Malfoy do now?"

In his seat, disguised by a terrible joke as the Brightest Witch of the Age, Draco narrowed his eyes at the Weasley girl.

"It wasn't that git," Thomas snapped, looking properly disgusted by the name — which certainly had to do with the fact that he'd been imprisoned in Draco's cellar the past summer (but that was not something Draco wanted to recall at the present moment). "It was Zabini and Nott."

"Dean and Seamus got rallied up because Nott knocked me over," and in the group that had joined his torture hour as Granger, Draco saw Parvati Patil sigh in the same exhaustion Thomas had. "I would've said it was an accident so the boys would've let it go, but it didn't help that Nott threw his stupid 'Blood Traitor' comment at me when he did so."

Ginny grunted her displeasure. "Where's Seamus in all of this?"

And to her question, Neville Longbottom answered for Patil. "Well, you know Seamus, Gin. He really gave Nott a go for what he did to Parvati. He's the one who actually started the fight. Ms. Venus showed up, and for Seamus' bloody luck, she took him and Nott to McGonagall."

"It was sweet." Aiming a smile at her friend, Lavender voiced her opinion. "Seamus fancies her. He started a fight with a group of barbarians to defend her."

Parvati scoffed something underneath her breath, crossing her arms indignantly.

"Don't you think its sweet, Dean?" Not paying much attention to her best friend, Lavender flashed her eyes at the dark-skinned Gryffindor. "You'd do that for any of us — for me, right?"

"As much as I'd like to hex some of those Slytherins, I think it's foolish to waste our time in detention for them. We've got more important things to deal with," Thomas responded, shrugging to himself as he lifted himself from his seat. "Anyway, I'll see you lot later. I promised Luna I'd meet her at the library and I'm late."

Lavender became instantly appalled, her eyes wide with outrage as Dean gathered his schoolbag and headed for the portrait hole.

Clearly amused by the look of complete horror on Lavender's face, Parvati aimed a smirk at Hermione, giggling silently. Draco narrowed his borrowed eyes at Patil, not knowing (or caring) whatever joke she had with Granger at Brown's expense.

"This is outrageous," Lavender huffed to herself. "I can't believe I'm being out-charmed by that stupid, insane — "

"Oi, watch it." Glaring at the older girl, Ginny pointed a finger threateningly. "That's my best friend, Lavender. I suggest you shut it before I shut it for you."

Lavender rolled her eyes, not intimidated. "I think," she began, glancing now at Hermione with a solemn expression, "that you should find out what Lovegood's intentions are with Dean, Granger. Mind you, you do owe me after all."

Since Hermione's body was being inhabited by Draco Malfoy, unknown to those she called friends, Draco made Granger's face ignite in deep fury. The glare was so famous on his pale, pointed face, but now that precious Granger wore it,  it instantly silenced the dramatic Lavender Brown.

"All right, Lav. That's enough bad blood for today, don't you think?" Parvati stood from the couch as well, gathering her books as she flashed a parental stare at her best friend. "You've made it all morning without going into a fit, don't ruin that."

Without saying a word, her face twisted into a scowl, Lavender left the common room with her friend. Only mutterings of curses and insults trailed behind her like a little girl told to go to her room after no one gave in to her tantrum.

Watching them go, Draco crossed his arms in a silent huff. How could Granger handle all this? How can someone with her brain possibly stand being around dramatic girls, incapable redheads, begrudging Muggle-Borns, and annoying Gryffindors? It was beyond his reasoning how she managed to do it — and how he's managed to do it half of the day already.

Interrupting the little moment to reflect on his thoughts, after his ears perked up to a "you should just tell Lavender, Neville. Maybe that way she'll stop threatening to murder Luna," from the She-Weasel, Malfoy frowned into further irritation as Potter and his sidekick joined them by the fireplace.

"Well, it's about time we find you, 'Mione," Harry said with a  dim smile at his friend as he put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You've been avoiding us all day. Is something wrong?"

Malfoy inhaled through Granger's nostrils, trying to keep his witty Slytherin remarks to himself. "Just tired," he repeated again, knowing that was always a safe-proof statement. "Honestly," he added, trying to be reassuring as Potter didn't budge.

Just like with Ginny, Malfoy did not count on the fact that Potter was not an idiot and knew his best friend well. But being a boy, Harry let it go without another thought, just an appointed look.

"Never mind that now," Ron cut in. "We've got news from the Order."

Harry frowned at him. "Nicely put, mate. Couldn't you've waited until the coast was clear?" Looking around the common room, noticing a few younger students around, Ron stared apologetically. "Anyway," Harry said, "Kingsley found out that the Ministry has been infiltrated."

"That's the information?" Draco huffed, making Granger look indifferently at her famous bespectacled friend. "Come on, who didn't know that? It didn't take a genius to figure out that by now the Dark Lord snuck in more Death Eaters after your stunt last summer."

Harry raised an eyebrow at Hermione, a little surprised by her uninterested tone. "Erm, right," he cleared his throat. "We obviously knew things were going to get worse after we broke in, but that's not the point, Hermione. Apparently there's some type of information in one of the departments on how to strip Hogwarts from all its magic."

On that armchair, fading from bored to a little bit curious, Hermione stared back uneasily at Harry Potter. "But the Aurors and McGonagall are keeping the castle safe. All the wards are created inside. How can they strip it from the Ministry?"

"You'd think because she reads Hogwarts: A History every bloody month that she would've known the answer to that," Ron scoffed under his breath, looking smug at the confusion on Hermione's face. Yet, when she started pulling on a  glare, Ron was quick to add, "The castle has its own magic, 'Mione."

"So, if they can find a way to break the center of all the automatic magic from the castle," Neville looked up towards the Golden Trio, making himself noticed as he and Ginny blended out from their view, "the Death Eaters can get in?"

Harry nodded solemnly at that, looking frustrated as he blinked his green eyes back at Hermione. "Remus said they'll keep us informed in case we have to prepare for a fight if McGonagall can't properly secure the castle's source of magic."

"Harry, let's say the Death Eaters...." Whatever it was that Weaslette was talking to Potter about, Draco no longer heard it. He instead melted into the Gryffindors' armchair, thinking to himself for a slight second. And for that little fraction of time he wasn't cursing and damning Granger to her most painful death, or contemplating whether this God that belonged to the Muggles was actually punishing him, Malfoy's head sprouted a flicker of an idea.

If, for the time being, he couldn't get out of Granger's body that meant he had an open pass to direct information from Potter — from the Order. Information that he could be of use for Draco's benefit, for his side.

X

Something was punishing her, Hermione knew it. Something was out there, whatever or whoever it was, and it was making her suffer on purpose. There could be no other explanation to why she'd woken up in the Slytherin Dungeons; to why she splashed water on a face that wasn't hers,  why she spent the past four hours walking around as Draco Malfoy, and why Madam Pince had taken the morning off and closed the library when she desperately needed to rampage it.

Hermione tried breathing calmly, trying to collect herself, but she was now so attuned to the cold anxiety that plagued her mind that she knew she was about to go into a frustrated overload. Her mind was a mess. Every thought, every bit of knowledge, every sentence she had read on an informational book twisted and twisted. It was all becoming a giant knot in her head, nothing made sense as it just rolled and rolled painfully together. She couldn't remember if she ever read of a curse that could do this to people. She couldn't remember if she ever encountered a reversible spell for this type of situation, or if there was a potion or ingredient that could do this to them.

Nothing. She couldn't pick out one single word from her mind to save her life.

At that horrific realization, Hermione felt her chest tighten. She could feel her airways close up, she could feel her heart thumping too fast, and she could sense her blood slow, her fingertips going numb. She was in a full-out panic now.

Reaching out to loosen her tie, she was pushed into further chaos as she remembered that the tie around her neck was not that of the Gryffindor colors, but a haunted and damned silver and emerald.

"Oh, God," she breathed to herself, tugging the tie and loosening it up. How could this happen to her? How could she be trapped in Draco Malfoy's body?

Just as she could feel herself go dizzy, her vision beginning to develop black spots, a hand slapped against her back roughly. "There you are, mate." And looking down at her, the bright eyes of Blaise Zabini startled her.

Not being able to respond, her throat still tight, she just managed to give a single nod at the Slytherin.

"You've been secluding yourself again, Malfoy," Blaise said to her, not suspecting once that the outer-shell he was talking to was indeed his friend, but the inside was the girl they all hated. He sat next to her casually. "You left the common room early, you sat by yourself during lessons, and now you're spending our break hidden underneath this tree."

At that, Hermione blinked. She looked away from the dark-skinned Slytherin, looking at her surroundings. A little surprised at how she got to the hill that overlooked the Black Lake, Hermione inhaled some of the pure oxygen desperately.

Blaise eyed his friend, watching the blonde just inhale, exhale, and inhale forcefully; like he'd been running out of air. Knowing that the clear silence he was getting from Draco meant to shove off, Zabini decided not to bring his seclusion up anymore. "Heads up, we might have some trouble with Gryffindor during Potions."

Hermione snapped her neck to look at the Slytherin beside her, making Malfoy's face transform into an expression of concern. "What? Why? What did Malfoy do?" Zabini raised an eyebrow, staring back at her in confusion. "I mean," she coughed, feeling incredibly stupid, "what happened?"

"Theo happened," Blaise said, still looking skeptically at Draco. Although he looked wary, his bright eyes also flashed a shade of annoyance and a flicker of anger. "We were leaving Transfiguration, and you know how it is, mate.  We all have automatic responses to seeing one another, glares and muttered insults are exchanged."

Hermione snorted. "Typical."

"Yeah, well, Parvati Patil accidentally bumped into Nott and he took it like the girl had blasted his manly-bits off," the Slytherin ignored her comment, his eyes suddenly lost in thought. "The idiot should've counted on the fact that not only did he push down a Gryffindor, but a girl. Not a second later did Finnegan start a fight that's not going to end anytime soon."

"Well, Nott's a complete idiot," Hermione said in her righteous attitude that was misplaced in Draco Malfoy. "And, honestly, Seamus is an idiot, too. I mean, it's understandable that he fancies Parvati and all, but in these times there's no need to get into trouble. There are more important things to be preparing for."

Zabini kept his skeptical expression on, frowning a little now. "Forget about Finnegan and Patil's love life right now, okay, Malfoy. What the hell are we going to do about the bloody Gryffindors coming after us?"

At the clear fact that this was bothering the Zabini too much, Hermione said her first real Malfoy thing. "Why are you so concerned, anyway?" Her tone was riled, slightly suspicious even. She didn't interact with any Slytherins, but she wasn't stupid to not know they enjoyed the quarreling with Gryffindor. It was their means of entertainment, after all. "Who the hell cares about the Gryffindors and their need to save damsels in distress?" she also said, finding that she was now a little in character as her part as Malfoy.

Blaise released a little of his frustration out to the open air, trying to inhale some composure as his friend now eyed him carefully. "Normally, I'd enjoy the bickering, but I don't have the mind for it right now and you know that. After what your mother said in that letter, Draco, do you honestly think I have it in me to be watching my back every second? I have to figure out what I'm going to fucking do."

Hermione opened her eyes a little, surprised by the clear aggravation on Zabini's face. "And, erm, what have you figured out?  About your situation?" Her voice was low, trying to play it out as she now felt curious. What did Mrs. Malfoy tell her son that involved Blaise? And why did it have him hanging on a ledge?

"I don't know, mate," Zabini whispered, sounding so weak and tortured for that poised boy Hermione had always seen walk through corridors like he owned the world.

Wanting to reach out for his hand, to squeeze his fingers in a sense of support, in a way of comfort like how she always did for Harry when he was on the brink of a meltdown, Hermione closed her hands into fists. She couldn't act on her natural compassion for people, not as long as she was in Draco Malfoy's body.

Like there had been someone listening to her thoughts, Pansy Parkinson approached the two Slytherins on the hill, coming in a form of an unwanted rescue. She walked with her arms crossed, no expression whatsoever on her face as the wind of the day made her dark hair flow behind her.

"There you are," Pansy huffed, crossing her arms. "Where have you been, Draco? We had a project to work on, remember? I waited for you in the common room for an hour. Don't think I'm going to do your part, too."

Hermione frowned, making Malfoy's face look displeased. "I lost track of time," she said in her best malicious tone. "We'll just work on it later."

Pansy frowned back for a moment, but as she remembered Draco sulking in the background, his silver eyes looking defeated all morning, she sighed in resignation. "Forget it, Draco. I'll finish find a way to do it all on my own."

On a normal circumstance, Hermione Granger would have never allowed anyone to do the entire share of work that was meant to be a group effort, but seeing as she had to solve the pending question of how the hell she and Malfoy had swapped bodies, she let this one go. There was no way she was going to make time for Parkinson in her hectic life. "Sure, thanks," she mumbled.

"No problem," Pansy flashed Draco a smile. "But that's not why I'm here. You two need to get yourselves up and help the rest of us deal with that fucking Peeves. He closed the nearest corridor to Potions and it starts in ten minutes."

As she began to stand, collecting Malfoy's schoolbag off the grass, Hermione's attention was on the shadow of Zabini heading back to the castle with the cloud of despair following after him.Right as her brain was thinking about doing the human thing, about trying to figure out how to help him while she was stuck in his friend's body, she didn't notice when Pansy had wrapped her arms around Draco's waist.

Hermione was about to push the girl away, appalled at Parkinson's proximity, the latter lifted herself on her toes and pressed her lips onto who she thought was Malfoy.

Oh, God, no! Hermione's brain screamed. She needed to get out of Malfoy's body as soon as possible. Preferably before Pansy Parkinson decided to do more than kiss and she was raped in a boy's body.