A/N I know I already have three stories of my own, but like I said somewhere, I have a million ideas in my head that are bursting to get out. Expect at least one more, either by myself of my BEST friend, Emelyn (inspration for Emelyn in What's the Point of Living If You Don't Believe In Love?)…a.k.a. TempusToki. P.S. This is non-HBP Emelyn has that covered

Disclaimer: I do not own a majority of what you will be reading, nor do I have the faintest idea as to where this will be going

Chapter One: Writing On The Desk

"Oh just stuff it, Malfoy! Why don't you just go cry home to your Death Eater father!" Hermione Granger shouted in the middle of the Charms corridor.

Draco Malfoy squinted his eyes at the girl in front of him. How dare she speak that way to him?

"Well at least my parents don't have dirt for blood!" It was all he could think of. He had used pretty much every other insult he had either in this argument, or during their past few.

Tensions had been running high during the first few weeks at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and this was the third fight in the past two weeks between Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy.

Both teens drew their wands out, aiming their own at the other. The corridor became quiet. Harry and Ron were standing behind Hermione, too nervous to make a sound with their hands itching towards their wands. The majority of the Slytherin seventh years was standing behind Draco, each ready to follow him.

"That's it Malfoy!" Hermione yelled. "I'm tired of all your crap! Just because I have no magic in my blood whatsoever, you think that you are automatically better than me! NEWSFLASH! Money and heritage don't make you better!"

"Oh, you want to talk newsflash, huh, muudblood?" Draco smirked at the brunette before him. "I'll tell you a newsflash you might have heard. Not only do people not like know-it-all's, suck ups, or goody-two-shoes, but we don't respect them, admire them, or even care about them! Who cares if you know the difference between a werewolf and a wolf?"

"Well who cares if you've shagged every girl here? It's not like that's gonna help you in life more than perfect grades?" Hermione spat out.

"Oh, are we jealous, little mudblood?"

"Nope," Hermione smirked, "just calling you a slut."

"Why you little-"

"ENOUGH!" Everyone looked up at the headmaster. Albus Dumbledore had heard most of the fight from the classroom he had been in and thought it time to break up the fight.

"Pro-"

"That will be quite enough, Miss Granger." Professor Dumbledore put his hand up to silence her. "Will the two of you please come with me?"

Hermione and Draco silently followed the old man, not to his office, but to an unused classroom in a deserted corridor.

"Alohomora." The door squeaked open. "In."

Hermione gulped as she entered the room. She took a seat at one of the few desks that were still upright and not broken. She looked down at the little table connected to it. They didn't use chairs like these in any of her classes. There was writing on almost every inch. She noticed, though, on the top left corner there was a large flower. It was about four inches all the way around with the initials 'H.U.G.' and 'D.A.M' in the middle. Hermione would have giggled at the initials if hers weren't so similar. How she hated her name, Hermione Alina Granger, H.A.G.

Draco had decided to sit on the teacher's desk, rather than in a chair, but he noticed on the chair next to his there was writing on the desktop. In large letters, taking up the entire surface, said 'D.A.M. + H.U.G'. With a smirk, he thought of his horrible name, Draco Ugo Malfoy, D.U.M.

The two snapped out of their embarrassed thoughts when they heard the door slam behind them. Dumbledore looked at the two, trying not to allow them to see his disappointment. These were the two brightest students of their year. Had they only met under different situations, oh well, it does not do to dwell.

"I have been watching the two of you for, Mr. Malfoy, would you please get off of my old desk. It is quite rude." Draco hopped off the desk and sat in the chair he was looking at before. Dumbledore saw this and smiled. "It is quite interesting that you choose that seat, Mr. Malfoy. It actually has a quite interesting story." Draco crossed his arms and slouched in the seat. "When I was a young teacher here, there were two students quite like the two of you. Both highly intelligent, very talented, and both had a strong hatred towards each other. Hazel Ursala Girard and Damian Alberto Mendez. I can tell you don't want details, but I would just like you two to know that they are now married, have five children, and neither of them have ever been happier."

"That was a lovely story sir," Draco said sarcastically, "but what does that have to do with us?"

"These two students spent nearly an entire seven years bickering, not unlike the two of you. I threatened punishments. I told them I could make them do a project together, switch bodies, live together, I got a few comments from Mr. Mendez for those two. I said that I could magically connect the two so that they would be unable to be more than three feet apart from each other, send them on a trip together, exchange program, my list went on (A/N hint to you reviewers if you want to see any of these ideas or more, tell me…it could happen)." Dumbledore looked from one child to the other. "I could do any of that and more to you two. Instead I will let you come up with a punishment."

Hermione and Draco looked at each other in disbelief. Draco couldn't believe what a fool the old man was being! He will get to come up with his own punishment? This was too good to be true! Hermione, on the other hand, realized that this meant that they would have to speak to each other and compromise on something. She also knew that the wise headmaster had a few tricks up his sleeve if he looked so serene.

"I want you two to come up with something by dinner," Dumbledore said as he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Hermione looked at her watch. It was half past three. Dinner won't be served for another two and a half hours, giving them plenty of time.

"Do whatever you want, mudblood." Draco got up and walked to the door. "Just tell the old kook that we agreed on it. DAMN!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked over at Draco, who was having trouble opening the door. "What now, Malfoy?"

"Bloody door won't open," Draco grunted.

Hermione sighed and pointed her wand at the door. "Alohomora."

"Didn't work, brainiac!" Draco exhaled heavily and stormed off to the chair behind the teacher's desk and crossed his arms. He leaned back on the back legs and looked up at the ceiling.

"Looks like when he said that he's serious about this whole thing," Hermione sighed. She conjured up a pen and started to draw on the little space left on the desk.

"Just don't talk to me for the next two hours." Draco began to rock the chair. "Dumbledore won't keep up locked in the entire time before now and dinner."

Hermione shrugged. This was not how she wanted to spend her homework time. Wait! Homework! She looked around the floor for her bag. If she couldn't be with her friends, she may as well read or do some work!

"Shit," she said softly.

Draco pretended to nearly fall out of his seat. "Did I hear right? Did little miss two-shoes Granger just cuss?"

"Oh shove off Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed. "I can't find my bag."

"Dumbledore obviously wants us to actually talk," Draco said in a defeated voice, putting the chair on all four legs.

Hermione sighed and looked around the room. "What's that?" She looked at the side of the desk Draco had been sitting at before. She walked over to the chair and lifted the side of the table-top, which easily flipped over, revealing an entire side of writing.

"Looks like this just got interesting," Draco said, reading over her shoulder.