a/n: OMG I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG! Almost a year between updates is just unacceptable. But I'm finally done with school and, though I'm not going to make any promises, I should have more time to at least complete the fanfics I've started, this one included. This chapter is short, but it's something. Once again, I apologize for my absence.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter... but I do own Tom Felton's autograph 3

Lesson ten: Don't assume you know what she wants. Ever.

If you do, you'll probably be wrong. However, don't be surprised when she expects you to be a mind reader, which, of course, you are not.

I suppose were I to look back on it, I hadn't had to wait for Malfoy very long. But when you're nervous and your hands are sweating and it seems like the clock is taking much too long to make a complete circuit, waiting even an extra five minutes can seem like an eternity. So I had just begun to give up hope that he was even coming, if you could call it hope, when a knock on the portrait hole made me almost wet myself with surprise.

I jumped up from the couch and scuttled to the door, furtively looking over my shoulder as I did so. But before I opened the portrait, I wiped my hands on a jacket hanging from the coat rack. (With satisfaction, I noted that it happened to be Ron's favourite Chudley Cannons sweatshirt.) Sweaty palms are such a turn off... I stopped myself mid-thought. Did it really matter if it was a turn off? Wasn't my ultimate goal to not be dating Draco Malfoy? Then why was I concerned about his feelings toward sweaty palms? All these thoughts whirling around in my brain made my nerves go berserk and my palms start sweating all over again.

Malfoy gave another louder knock. Impatient, that one. No matter. I gave my hands another thorough wiping on Ron's sweatshirt before finally opening the door. My breath caught in my throat. Draco Malfoy was standing there in the corridor. He was sneering at cursing at the Fat Lady and was making a horrible face, but I could still appreciate his superb bone structure and perfect skin. Really, he was much more beautiful than any male had any right to be. I felt a little sad and a little jealous at the same time, to think that he would make a more attractive female than I did. Life was so unfair!

"You're nothing more than a second-rate Crivelli if I've ever seen one," he spat. The Fat Lady gasped in horror. I didn't care. He was being downright awful, but all I could see was the black button-down that hugged his Seeker's body quite nicely. My eyes didn't travel lower than that; I refused to let them. Remember, I never wanted to date Draco Malfoy. I swallowed and turned my attentions back to his face. Nope, I never wanted... Oh, Merlin, he's looking at me now... this...

"Hey, Hermione," he said to me, his scowl softening somewhat. "You Gryffindors should invest in higher quality art. I understand your lot are fairly poor, but I'm sure you could take up a collection and have this fat-arse removed in no time." Without another word, he strode past me into the common room. I stood where I was just a moment, staring into the corridor. I was barely aware of the Fat Lady sniffling or the fact that Malfoy was inspecting every inch of the common room with a critic's eye and undoubtedly making snooty remarks under his breath.

I cleared my throat. "Er, I'm sorry he's offended you," I said quietly to the Fat Lady.

She swallowed a sob and replied, "It's n-n-not your fault, de-dearie. All though, I thought you h-h-had more s-sense than to be... cavorting with Slytherins... What a nasty little b-boy! Crivelli! Ha! I'll have you know - !" I shut the door and didn't feel the least bit sorry about it. I probably would later when I was stranded alone out in the corridor all night because the Fat Lady was too "preoccupied with other matters" to come and let me in.

"It's nice to see you," Malfoy was against my back, breathing on my neck. With his hand, he brushed the hair from my shoulder and ran his fingers down my neck. The nerve of him! Didn't he know what he was doing to me? I shivered and tried to say something sarcastic, or at least something coherent, but all I could think about was that black shirt he was wearing and how nice he looked in it, but how much nicer he would look with it off... No, stop it! Stop it! Stop imagining Malfoy naked!

"Mmmhmph," I said to him in what I hoped was an alluring manner.

Malfoy laughed and pulled back. I sighed in relief. "Well, are you ready to slut it up?"

I turned around and folded my arms across my chest. "And what exactly does that mean, 'slut it up'?"

He smirked. "What do you think it means?" He held out his hand to me and I felt my knees go weak. Stop it, knees! Just stop! You're being foolish! But my knees weren't listening and neither was my heart, which was hammering in my chest.

I groaned and took his hand. Hopefully, my palms weren't too sweaty... I said as Malfoy began to lead me up the stairs to the dormitory, "If it means you're going to try dressing me up like a trollop, you're in luck. Ginny has graciously let me take advantage of her exceedingly revealing wardrobe." I gave the back of his head a huge grin... And then it suddenly occurred to me to ask how he knew where the dormitories were...

But I didn't get the chance because we were at the landing and he had stopped and was looking down at me. His eyes narrowed slightly and he leaned forward. "So you think Ginny Weasley is a bit of a slut," he said softly.

I tried to stare him in the eye and not look at his lips. "It's just so Harry will notice her," I explained quietly. I wasn't about to tell Draco Malfoy, of all people, that I thought my best friend sometimes dressed in a way that was unbecoming... Even if it was the truth.

"But that kind of thing doesn't work on Harry." I nodded in agreement. Malfoy dropped my hand and I immediately wished he hadn't simply because now that hand was lurking somewhere outside my range of vision and I had no idea if or when it might strike out and molest me. "And you, don't you crave attention sometimes?" he asked.

I shuffled my feet and gave into the urge to wipe my hands on my skirt. "I suppose."

Malfoy smiled. A genuine smile. Not a smirk. My knees threatened to give way again, but I chided them silently and they remained steady for the most part. "Well tonight's the night," he told me. "You're going to get all the attention you've ever wanted." That hand that I had feared might grope me suddenly appeared against my cheek. Malfoy held my face for just a moment and I thought that if he tried to kiss me right then and there, well, I might just let him. Even though I most definitely did not want him to... Maybe...

But he didn't. He let his hand drop and said to me, "Will you show me to Ginny's room, and we can get started."

"I wonder where Hermione is!" Ginny yelled over the sound of screeching emanating from the giant speakers towering in the corner of the Ravenclaw common room.

Ron looked at her. His brow furrowed. "What?" he yelled back.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Hermione!" She mimed reading a large and boring book.

"Oh! Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. He shrugged and took a swig of butterbeer from the bottle in his hand. "Who cares?" A particularly busty Ravenclaw fifth year passed by in front of him and he excused himself to follow in her strawberry-scented wake.

Ginny looked despairingly over to where Harry was posted, leaning against a wall surrounded by a cluster of fawning girls. Yet, he seemed oblivious to the fact that each and every one of them were flirting their pants off... Literally. One of them had lost her pants and was undoubtedly drunk to the point of collapse, which she would have done sooner were she not hanging on to Harry's shoulder like a herpes-ridden parrot.

Ginny took a deep breath, downed the rest of her lukewarm butterbeer, slammed the bottle down on the table, and began to make her way over to Harry and his harem. But before she could take two steps, she collided with a familiar red dress and a less-than-familiar girl wearing it.

Hey you bitch, Ginny started to say, that's my dress you're wearing, but she then realized who she was talking to and her angry expression was replaced by one of curious amazement.

"Hermione?"