Okay, so this was originally going to be a oneshot - but after a few reviews requesting for more, and LOTS of consideration, I've decided to try and continue this, and we'll see how it turns out.

I realise that this may not be as good a follow up to the first chapter, but it was difficult to decide in what way this story could continue. Nonetheless, I hope you guys like it! I won't be able to update regularly, but I'll certainly do my best ;D

"We're going to be late," Hermione warned over her shoulder to Harry and Ron, who tagged along behind, cloaks liable to trip them over in the midst of their haste.

"They won't mind," Ron assured with a shrug of his shoulders to Harry.

"They will," Hermione argued. "Harry's supposed to be teaching them: they're in there waiting for him – not us."

"She's right, Ron," Harry muttered. "I shouldn't have overslept, knowing DA was this morning."

The three turned at a corner, rushing down the corridor, when three Slytherins appeared at the opposite end: Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott.

"Well, well," Malfoy smirked, swaggering towards the other three, of whom had halted abruptly in their tracks at the sight of them. "Look who we have here. Saint Potter: out for a stroll, are we? You do know, of course, that running is prohibited in the corridors. Would you say that's, twenty points from Gryffindor, eh? And, of course, thirty from the Weasel – the extra ten points thanks to the state you're allowing yourself to be wandering around the corridors in." His eyes swung over to Hermione, who immediately flushed. "Ah, Granger," he grinned broadly. "How are things? Been getting into any trouble recently?" He stepped closer to her, and tilted his head slightly. "I don't suppose I need to remind you about the punishments for failing to follow rules, do I, Granger?" He wiggled his eyebrows as Hermione merely glared at him in response.

"Leave off, Malfoy," Ron grunted, making to separate the two up.

"Shut up, Weasley," Theo retorted, aiming his wand in Ron's direction.

"Hermione, come on," Harry muttered, tugging at the sleeve of her robes. "Let's go."

Malfoy sniggered, and gestured to Blaise and Theo to continue onwards.

"What the bloody hell was that about," Ron frowned, looking over to the retreating Slytherins. "What punishments?"

"It doesn't matter Ronald," Hermione snapped. She exhaled in irritation, ignoring the two boys' confusion. "You two go on ahead. I'll be with you in a minute." Before they could question her, she stormed off, in the same direction Malfoy, Zabini and Nott had disappeared.

Hermione easily caught up with them, quick to catch sight of the head of blonde hair bobbing up ahead.

"What is your problem, Malfoy," she yelled through the corridor: he spun around in surprise, to then grin.

"Granger," he exclaimed, as Nott and Zabini turned around too. "Eager to continue conversing?"
Her eyes narrowed, and her lips tightened to a thin line as she targeted him. His grin wavered as he saw this; Malfoy stumbled back – albeit only slightly – as she began to pummel him, with her fingers curled into her palms.

"Hey, hey," he laughed, grabbing her wrists, "this isn't Third Year, Granger."

"What is your problem," Hermione repeated, glaring at him.

Malfoy merely looked highly entertained. He glanced to Theo and Blaise, and jerked his head. "This won't take long. I'll see you later."

They nodded begrudgingly, and went on ahead. Malfoy brought his attention back to Hermione. "Where were we, Granger?"

"You had better explain right now what exactly it is you're after, and – and let go of me," she demanded with gritted teeth.

"One thing at a time, Granger," he retorted, though took heed to what she said and loosened his grip on her wrists. She yanked her hands away and used the free space to step closer to him.

"Well, go on then," she muttered expectantly, glaring up at him.

"You are rather determined, I grant you that," he commented with a nod, not so much in a rush to explain as Hermione wanted. He glanced around warily, as though it only just came to his attention as to what other students would make of this unlikely exchange: he roughly grabbed a handful of her cloak, and began to stride through the corridor, Hermione unwillingly in his wake.

She tugged at her cloak with a snarl. "I can walk by myself, you know," she pointed out, to then reluctantly gesture for him to continue leading the way. Malfoy chose to shrug rather than make a remark, and obliged. He took them to a small alcove, so as to be unseen by any passing students or professors: with sideward glances to check the coast was clear, he brought Hermione in, to then step in after her and fold his arms.

"What do you want, then, Granger," he asked casually, though he had to incline his head slightly, from the low ceiling of the alcove.

Hermione looked quizzically at the confined cupboard-like surroundings, to then glare at him. "You know exactly what I want, Malfoy. An explanation."

"To what," he sniggered. "I kissed you. What is your point?"

"Why aren't you bothered by it?!" Hermione exclaimed, jaw widening her mouth in shock. "Haven't you spent the last five years sneering at the very sight of me?"

"People change, Granger," he answered lightly.

"Not that quickly," she disputed. "You'd be happy to let your friends know then, that you kissed a Mudblood?"

Malfoy frowned. "Listen woman – I haven't called you by that name for at least two years."

"Oh, well that clearly makes up for the other two then," Hermione challenged.

"Granger, you've seen my father, yeah? You know what he's like. I've been brought up by him throughout my life: I believed him because I had no reason to doubt him. I took his words to be true: I came to this school thinking that everything my father said was right. He was pretty determined to continue the Pureblood traditions and old beliefs through the family. Of course, having seen you… it took a considerable time to realise it at first, but I initially denied that you could be in any way different to how my father said you would be. But then…" he bowed his head, sighing. "It doesn't matter exactly what happened, but I started to realise that not everything my father said was actually right, as I'd once assumed it to be."

Hermione stared at him stonily. "So you thought that giving me a kiss would make up for everything, then? All those, spiteful names, and glares sent my way – you got half the Slytherins in our year following your example."

"I see that now, Granger," he responded. "And – well, as for the kiss… that was merely because I was curious to see your reaction," he smirked.

"So there wasn't a suitable reason behind it, then," Hermione huffed.

"Oh, of course there was more than just that, Granger," he sniggered, as he cocked his head slightly and winked.

Hermione grimaced. "I can't believe I came to attempt a civil discussion with you.""This is civil," he replied. "The most civil we've probably ever been. Come on, Granger, you've got to admit that this at the very least has been enlightening for you. I'm not who I once was."

"That doesn't make you good."

"Who wants to be good? Girls love a bad guy, right," he said, eyebrow quipped and the corner of his lips twitched upwards.

"Not the kind that bullies them for years and then decides to unexpectedly kiss them, no," Hermione said, appalled, and she turned to leave the alcove.

Malfoy lashed out and grasped her hand, pulling her back in. His hold was gentle, yet firm, as he leaned forward and pressed his other free hand against the stone wall, just to the side of her head, to support himself as he towered over her, like a predator encasing his prey.

"Why are you so afraid," he muttered, his breath tickling at her ear.

"Afraid?" Hermione tilted her head up and met his gaze. At such a proximity, Hermione could clearly see the startling pale blue of his eyes, his blonde eyebrows furrowed as he studied her with an intense curiosity. The bangs of his platinum hair curled over his forehead, and she became very aware of his hand reasserting its place around her own, his thumb delicately brushing against her skin.

Her breathing suddenly sounded far louder than it should have done, given the silence of their surroundings. She exhaled deeply, and as she breathed in once more caught a most peculiar scent, which she found herself surprised to identify as Malfoy: oddly refreshing, cool and sharp.

"Where's the harm in admitting you like me, Granger? I can see you trying to deny it – but why? What's so bad about liking a Malfoy?"

"You bully those who you deem beneath you," Hermione breathed.

Malfoy shook his head. "That, as I've already pointed out, is something of the past. Although, I still don't like Potter or Weasley, but that's simply a mutual hate – which I'm sure you understand."

"Rather well," she grated.

"Granger, my intellect matches yours-"

"Barely."

"-And I actually like education, unlike your useless friends. As for Quidditch: it's important, but it's not the only conversation that my brain can handle."

"I'm glad to hear it," Hermione said, her sarcasm heightened by a lift of her eyebrows.

"My friends won't care as to who I like. After all, you were the one who said they followed after me. What they consider important is whether or not I'm happy – which I should hope, much as I dislike them, Potter and Weasley also do for you."

Viktor Krum and Ron passed briefly through her mind, but she quickly shook off the reminder.

"So, Granger," Malfoy grinned. "What do you say?" Hermione kept quiet, considering her situation carefully – though slightly distracted by the boy's hand still keeping hold of hers. Malfoy hesitated, his grin falling to a solemn gaze as he studied her a few seconds, before he leant closer. His head inclined to one side as he dipped down and pressed his lips to hers. His hand finally released her own and instead cupped her cheek, as he continued to use his other hand as support against the wall of the alcove.

Hermione could have pushed him away. She could have left him there alone in the alcove, or slapped him – but despite both her hands being at quite the advantage, she made no such move.

Malfoy broke away, a smirk already on his face. "I'll be taking that as a yes," he decided triumphantly, with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"You seem incredibly confident with yourself," Hermione mused.

"But of course," he replied. "I gave you the chance to move away."

"Did you really," Hermione quipped with mild amusement.

"Well, I didn't exactly pin you down, did I?"

Hermione inclined her gaze to the hand against the wall, just to the side of her face. Malfoy followed her eyes; he hastily pulled his hand back and straightened – at least, straightened as best he could despite the lack of much space to do so. "There: happy now, Granger?"

Hermione chewed at her lip. "…Maybe." She glanced to him, and actually managed a small smile towards him.

Malfoy brightened considerably. "Ten points to Slytherin," he grinned, to be met with an exaggerated eye roll.