Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

A Whole New World	By : nekho-tenchi Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 4668 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry potter nor do i make a profit

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Author’s note: K so the next few chapters are just going to be about the dream instead of going back and forth. I will inform you when I am back in real life. Also I would like to make a big shout out to my beta reader Cearea Elnin. She is a wonderful beta reader and catches all my mistakes and forces me to show and not tell. Also I know in my last chapter I promised a chapter a month! Well I am scratching that as of now. I don’t believe I can do justice to my story if I try to stick to a time table. So I am going to have a chapter ready when it is ready.
Dream:
Draco entered Arithmancy class and saw the only seat in the room available was next to hers, he put on his foulest sneer and strode over. Vector had clearly arranged the desks for a pairs lesson, and he didn’t look happy about it.
He shoved his book down on the table top and collapsed into the seat, dragging it as far away from her as he could in the small space. He, somewhat childishly, had his body angled away from her even thought this made it awkward for him to see the board. Hermione took a deep breath. It wouldn’t help her cause to get angry at him straight away, but it was a challenge. The infuriating little ferret just made her mad so easily.
They both did their work for the lesson in petulant silence, hoping that they could just breeze through it without interacting at all. Hermione was painfully aware for most of that time how close they were sitting. She could practically feel the heat from his body in the stuffy classroom. Draco kept pushing his hair back irritably and huffing a little too loudly. Once or twice, Hermione contemplated talking to him – just leaning over and whispering a question about the work – but she knew that he would be suspicious. He would know very well that she was capable of completing these equations with her eyes closed. And she was determined to be subtler in her behavior around him, so she just stayed quiet and ignored all his annoying little habits as he expressed his disgust. About five minutes before the end of the lesson, Vector called for a halt.
The Professor looked unsure of herself and sighed. “Alright class, listen carefully please,” she began, and although their bodies were tense it was second nature for Hermione and Malfoy to fix their gaze on the teacher, both being compulsive over-achievers.
“Over the course of this week in your pairs you will be working on a little project. Together you will be solving a series of complex, shifting equations. As you solve each question, it will reveal a clue for the final riddle, and I will be introducing variables as you go, so you have to think quickly and adapt. You will need to work together.”
Her eyes darted sternly towards the two seething enemies seated side by side, as if to warn them, “because if you do not work as a team effectively, you will find this task impossible. It’s quite advanced NEWT level work, but I think this class is capable of tackling something that would typically be ahead of them in the course. You will, however, need to dedicate homework time as well to do this, as class will not be sufficient. I suggest you arrange your schedules today to complete it, as organization is the key to success. Not everyone in here will be able to successfully solve this task. Understood?”
After the class let out a chorus of murmurs to show their agreement, Vector nodded. With a flick of her wand, a series of parchments appeared on each desk for the pairs.
“You may begin going over it now.”
Hermione sighed and went to grab the top instruction sheet, just as Malfoy made a grab for it too.
“Give it to me, Granger. If you take it we might never hear from you again.”
Hermione scowled but, reminding herself to stay clam, she relented and released the page into his grasp. He seemed surprised for a moment before he scoffed and turned his attention to the instructions as Hermione casually flipped through the first sheet of equations.
“Shit,” Draco murmured under his breath, and Hermione could see why.
These equations were unlike any they’d come across before. They were extremely difficult and convoluted, because She had never seen these strange equations before. There was no chance she’d finish it by herself with a single week. Which meant she really would have to find a way to cooperate with Malfoy. Easier said than done. But it might just help her to find out more about him, so she nodded quietly to herself. She sat a bit straighter and reminded herself to be serene and keep her dignity. She was the brightest witch of her age.
“This is going to be…”
“Bloody impossible,” growled Malfoy.
“I was going to say fun, actually.”
Malfoy stared at her in disbelief for a moment.
“For Merlin’s sakes, are you kidding me, Granger?”
Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed the instruction sheet from him. “Come on Malfoy, we’re not all that different you know. I bet somewhere deep down you think it’d be interesting to see if we can accomplish this, see if we can beat our competition. Aren’t you at least a little curious?”
Malfoy cringed, but there was only a split second of something like understanding on his face before his arrogant mask came back in full force.
“You’re a freak, Granger. I shouldn’t even be here. I don’t see how silly little problem solving games are supposed to make me any better at…..”
Hermione looked at him directly, coldly, as he trailed off.
“At what? Torturing muggleborns?”
Draco returned her stare with equal chill, and she couldn’t help but shiver in response.
“Something like that…” he responded with a menacing tone to his voice.
Hermione gritted her teeth and took a breath through her nose, falling silent for a moment so that she wouldn’t ruin this.
“Well I refuse to fail this assignment just because you’re a pretentious little bigot. So when are you free for us to meet?”
Malfoy turned away, uncomfortable looking at her any longer.
“Can’t we just split it up and do half each?”
Hermione made a little growl of frustration, unable to contain her annoyance.
“Look at it, Malfoy!” She shoved the parchment under his nose and he finally let his eyes sweep over some of the numbers and runes.
“Dammit,” he swore softly.
“Exactly. Now tell me when you’re available,” she ordered.
Malfoy huffed and ran a hand through his blond hair, messing it up from its usual neat slicked style. Hermione thought it made him look a lot more vulnerable. Almost….sweet.
“Tuesday and Wednesday, evening, after eight.”
“I can make that work. Let’s meet in our little spot.”
She knew it sounded strange to say spot, and Malfoy was clearly outraged at the term, as his eyes immediately shot back to hers with a look of disgust and almost fury, her eyes simmering in furious disgust, but she just tossed her hair and ignored him.
“Whatever,” he replied in a dull voice, clearly not wanting to get into any more arguments with her. Fortunately for them, Vector dismissed the class. Malfoy swept from the room and out of the door as fast as his legs would carry him. What he didn’t notice was the Headmaster watching the events unfold, a sad smile on his lips.
“So it begins,” Dumbledore whispered.
Draco dragged his feet all the way to library on Tuesday evening. He had only managed to spend half an hour working on the cabinet, and it had been a total waste of time. He had just stared at it, his brain consumed instead by his dread about spending an hour with Granger in the library.
In their spot.
How dare she, even inadvertently, make this sound like some kind of special rendezvous? The very idea was laughable, and he was angry with the rational side of his brain that argued that it was a very large library with extensive seating, and two of them did tend to claim that one alcove of only about five desks as theirs more often than not, whether separately or at the same time. There was something peaceful about that part of the library, burrowed away from the main section. And seeing her with her curly head buried in textbooks always inspired him to push himself harder, so he kept going back there. But that didn’t give her the right to call it their spot, as if it was some sort of romantic secret between them.
“By all means, take your time, Granger,” he drawled, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed.
Hermione’s eyes shot up and she met his gaze, her brown eyes wide and innocent.
“Oh I’m sorry, Malfoy. Sometimes I get carried away with what I’m reading and I sort of block out well everything…” She trailed off in embarrassment and a red flush spread to her cheeks as she dropped her gaze.
Draco had never seen her blush like that before. She was usually so high and mighty that she didn’t often let her feathers get ruffled. Another reason why it was more fun to taunt Potter and Weasley. They always reacted so perfectly to his insults, whereas she just ignored them. He also couldn’t help but noticing that these last two years in particular she didn’t seem to care what people thought of her. Which was just as well, because most girls despised her and most boys were too intimidated to like her. She needed a thick skin. So it made him feel quite smug that she was so outwardly flustered in his presence now. He felt a savage pleasure that he could still make her react if he tried hard enough, or maybe just if they were alone together.
“Let’s get this over with okay?” he snapped, and enjoyed seeing her blush deepen and spread from her cheeks down her neck and into her shirt. He wondered briefly how far down it went.
“Alright. Well…the reason I was reading was because I’ve managed to gather some formulas that could help us find the initial sequence.”
He raised an eyebrow at that. So she was researching their assignment before he arrived. She was far too prepared. Yet another thing that irritated him.
“Show me,” he said, gritting his teeth.
She handed over the parchment of notes she had made, and he nodded brusquely, not wanting to say anything to indicate that he was actually impressed with her work. It was insufferably meticulous.
“I assume you have some kind of plan. Merlin forbid every teacher’s favorite little perfectionist comes unprepared to kiss arse.”
Granger arched one brow and paused, before brushing her hair back over her shoulder and sitting straighter.
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, actually.”
“I didn’t intend for it to be one,” he retorted angrily. Then she smiled at him in a challenging sort of way, a mischievous sparkle of gold in her deep brown eyes. He cursed himself for noticing.
“I’ll have to just accept an accidental one then. I’m not ashamed of being an organized person, or of being well-liked by the teachers I respect.”
Then, before he could rebuff her statement, she flipped open another big book and shoved it under his nose.
“Now look at this. We can use this one to work out the first sequence.”
Draco pinched his lips together in frustration. She was so bossy and it was no surprise that Potter and Weasley managed to scrape through all their subjects by the skin of their teeth. She practically dragged them through.
“Just give me the damn sheet, Granger. I’ll do the first one myself.”
Hermione shrugged her shoulders “Suit yourself.”
“I will.”
They both huffed softly and were silent for a while as they puzzled out the equations on each of their sections. After a while Hermione broke the silence with a triumphant grin and exclaimed, “I’ve got this one!”
“Me too,” he agreed, putting down his quill and flexing his sore hand.
Granger looked at him apprehensively. “Swap?” she suggested.
He nodded curtly without a word and they exchanged parchments. Looking down at her neat, pedantic work, he couldn’t help but be impressed as he followed her lettering to the conclusion. She was definitely correct. He started to grind his teeth and hoped with a curious fluttering in his chest that she would find his correct as well. He couldn’t stand to be beaten by her right now.
“It’s spot on!” she announced with a pretty smile as she passed the page back to him. He didn’t say a word, but handed hers back as well with a grunt of acknowledgment. Her infuriating smile widened and he couldn’t help himself but stare at her for a moment.
“Next one?” she suggested innocently.
Still refusing to talk freely to the witch, he grabbed the next two and they repeated the process. A part of him was incredibly grateful he was paired up with someone so smart. Although the work was extremely difficult, they soared through it, helped by their combined intelligence. They only exchanged brief words with each other to keep the assignment on track or to double check answers. Otherwise they managed to fall into what he could only describe as a comfortable silence.
Draco let his eyes flicker up to watch her a few times as they worked. She was in her element, and as much as he teased her in public, he admitted very reluctantly to himself now that there was something admirable about that fierce concentration she had while studying. Her dark brown eyes were focused with such intensity on the page in front of her her that he was surprised it didn’t catch on fire, and her lip was red and swollen from being gnawed on by her ferocious little teeth. It filled him with a strong desire to impress her, as if her approval would really mean something, because anyone who met her high standards was doing something right. Draco groan in frustration realizing this was taking longer then expected, but with there combined intelligence they finished a nice stack of equations
“All right I guess we’re done for now, until Professor Vector gives us the next variable, “she sighed after three long hours of working. It was getting closer to curfew, and Draco was exhausted. He hadn’t slept well that previous night.
He stretched his back, spine cracking softly, as he ran his hands over his face. Draco felt her eyes on him and he returned her gaze. She looked worried, pitying even, as her stare took in the rings under his eyes, and the stiffness in his posture. He swallowed, mortified. He didn’t want her seeing a moment of weakness like this, not when it seemed possible that she was already watching him like a hawk. Granger seemed to debate with herself for a few moments, before finally she spoke in a whisper only just loud enough for him to hear.
“You should get some sleep.”
Draco’s heart thudded and he felt his anger escalate all too quickly.
“I thought I told you to mind your own business, Granger,” he spat.
She blinked once at his harsh tone, but otherwise held his gaze. Eventually she smiled an almost secret, conspiratorial smile. Draco frowned as he watched her lean forwards slightly across the desk between them, wondering why she was quirking her lip up in that secretive way. Part of him just wanted to run now that they were finished their work for the night, but he didn’t want to look like a coward, or to let her know she was getting to him. So he just sat there and watched her smirking at him
“ You don’t scare me you know,” she murmured lightly. Draco snorted, his knuckles going white.
“I’m not trying to scare you, I’m trying to ignore you.”
Hermione’s smile widened, and that gold glimmer had returned to lighten the shade of brown of her irises. “And how are you doing with that?”
Draco looked at her with suspicion, trying to work her out.
“Not as well as I’d like. What are you playing at, Granger?”
She shook her head innocently, eyes wide. He didn’t trust her for a second.
“I’m just worried about my assignment. I wouldn’t want your stubbornness to get in the way of my grades, now would I?”
She said it with such a serious, disingenuous voice that Draco almost laughed along with the joke she was surely making at his expense. But his instinct told him that to play along with her teasing would be dangerous.
“Just leave me alone. Once this task is completed I don’t want to hear your annoying stuck up voice or to see your bushy head again, understand?”
“Would that be easier for you to cope with?” she retorted with a knowing glare. “To pretend I don’t exist?”
He met her stare with wide, panicked eyes. Of course he had worried that after he pushed her against the wall last week that she would understand the hidden meaning of his words. He cursed her for being too smart for her own good; she was bound to see through his stupid, impulsive words. Granger knew now, thanks to his error, that he really did struggle to see her as beneath him. She had probably figured out that she scared him, because she challenged every ideal he had been taught as a young pureblood boy. He could tell from her piecing look now that she could plainly see the guilty set of his shoulders and the way he couldn’t quite hold her gaze. Not knowing what to say, he stayed frustratingly silent. His mind raced, yet he couldn’t think of any insults to hurl at her , and knew that saying the word mudblood to her now wouldn’t get him out of trouble. Not that he even wanted to say it.
Eventually she quickly nodded her head and hoisted her bag onto her shoulder. Then with one tilt of her lip and quick flash in her eyes she turned and left the library, over her shoulder she left him with some parting words, “I’ll see you same time tomorrow.”
Hermione knew that she may have crossed some uspoken line, and that it was all too likely Malfoy wouldn’t turn up at the library on Wednesday. He had already made it clear that he didn’t feel comfortable working with her and that he was frightened of the two of them working and interacting any more closely.
Because beneath the silent glares and scornful words he had said last night, he looked…conflicted - almost as if he was thinking too hard about how he should act around her. That in itself showed her that he had doubts, and while they were working she had caught him watching her with hooded silver-blue eyes. She wasn’t sure if he was feeling wary or just curious but his attention had made her flush and experience a twinge of self-consciousness.
The next day, he sat quietly during meals in the great hall, barely eating but just pushing the food around his plate. He had withdrawn a lot from his friends these past couple of months – even when they tried to engage him in conversation he seemed to just dismiss them as if it were just another burden. Hermione’s mind was ticking over with how to help him, how to earn his trust. Perhaps if she worked out the puzzle that was Draco Malfoy she could actually do something, instead of just sitting around waiting for a war to begin that was out of their control.
Eventually she settled on a fairly mild first step that he may not react too badly to. She was sitting waiting in the library, working on the Arithmancy project and hoping he would turn up. It was ten minutes past the time he was expected, and she had started to think she had pushed him too far. But then a huffing breath ruffled the top of her head and she saw him slump into the chair across from her, a muscle in his jaw clenching angrily.
“Let’s just do this.”
“Ok, here you go,” she said promptly, passing him a series of numbers while she tackled a different set. They worked in silence until a suitable amount of time had passed. He seemed determined to just keep a wall up between them and do the work without interacting at all. With a secret smile to herself, Hermione quietly removed the thermos from her bag and carefully unscrewed the lid. She started to sip at it and let out a soft moan of approval as she tasted the rich, warming liquid inside. Malfoy’s head shot up at the sound and he stared at her. The soft sounds of enjoyment coming from her mouth had obviously shocked him, because he looked a bit stunned and his mouth was hanging open. Then he seemed to collect himself.
“Don’t tell me Granger, you’ve finally removed that stick from your ass.”
“Hmmm?” she hummed in response, still sipping on the drink.
“Smuggling drinks into the library? That’s against the rules.”
Hermione smiled with mischief.
“It’s worth it. The house elves made it for me specifically.”
Malfoy frowned and stared at the strange flask she was holding. She could see him trying to figure out which spell she had used to hold in the warmth. He clearly had no experience with muggle homeware.
“What the bloody hell is it? Firewhiskey”
Her smile widened as she snorted and shook her head. She bit her lip a bit nervously before answering.
“It’s...hot chocolate.”
He scoffed. “Seriously? Are you five years old, Granger?”
She chuckled and took another sip.
“Nope. It’s made with medicinal chocolate. Melted and brewed with a pinch of cinnamon and cream.”
Draco was intrigued. He had never heard of hot chocolate being made with medicinal chocolate before, and the smell was divine.
“Huh. Whatever,” he shrugged casually, trying to appear nonchalant, even as his stomach rambled covetously, They fell silent again and continued working, but Hermione couldn’t help noticing the furtive glances he kept throwing her way, and how he licked his lips and swallowed every now and then. She knew he was interested. The bait had worked. When enough time had passed, she made sure to keep her eyes studiously on her books while she poured a decent amount into the thermos cap. It was designed to be a detachable mug. She carefully, slowly, slid it towards him across the small space of table between the. From the corner of her eyes she saw him frown at it, then his angry, suspicious eyes raised towards her, as if checking for a trap.
“It’s not poisoned,” she murmured with a shrug, still focusing on her work and trying not to make a big deal of it. Still, he left it there for about five more minutes, and she was glad she had cast a new stasis charm on it to keep it warm. But sure enough, the delicious smell alone proved too much temptation, especially because he probably hadn’t been eating enough lately. Malfoy carefully grabbed the cup, sniffed it, and took a sip. While outwardly, Hermione was focused entirely on her work, she let her gaze flicker up to him, hidden behind her curls.
He had closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the taste. She could well imagine how much he was enjoying the smooth, rich chocolate with just that hint of spicy cinnamon. But more than that, she could see how it made warmth seep through him from top to bottom. Even his chilled fingertips would thaw as the sensation spread. At first he appeared to want to savior the sweet liquid, taking small sips, but it wasn’t long before he drained the entire cup and licked his lips.
Hermione held back a smug smile, simply passing him the sheet she had completed. He looked a bit guilty, and shuffled the papers around that he had been working on.
“I think this riddle is starting to make more and more sense.”
Malfoy nodded, and Hermione bit back another smile that he was no longer snapping at her every two seconds. Even though he had settled into a moody silence, it was more peaceful than his defensive insults.
“Yes…here, how does this look?”
She ran her eyes along the words down the bottom of the sheet that Malfoy had written in Latin and it only took her a few quick moments to see that he had solved this piece of the puzzle.
“That’s brilliant!” She exclaimed, “You’ve got it!”
And for a single moment, Malfoy’s guard was dropped and he looked genuinely pleased with himself. Not the usual arrogant mask, but actually proud that he had achieved something difficult, and for once he accepted her smile without suspicion.
“If we don’t get a bloody Outstanding for this assignment I’m going to hex that women!”
Hermione giggled, and he couldn’t help but think it was rather pretty sound, not like the irritating high pitch squeals of other girls he hung around with. Then he froze and shook his head to clear it. That damn chocolate, and the pride in his success must have temporarily addled his brains. He needed to rescue this situation.
“At last, I wont have to waste much more time with you, Granger. I’m surprised I didn’t catch something already.”
Hermione sighed. It had been going so well.
“Ok, Malfoy. Go for it. Say what you need to say to make you feel better!”
He just glared at her and started to pack up. When he almost finished and she was still just sitting there staring at him, with her arms folded in front of her, he snapped
“Look, what do you want from me Granger? Because you’re really starting to piss me off.”
Hermione looked at him calmly from her seat. She considered just throwing off the question or making a snappy comeback, but in the end she settled on honesty.
“I want to help you.”
Malfoy laughed coldly.
“You want to help me please the Dark Lord?” he asked sarcastically.
Hermione stared at him directly, her heart thudding. There was a sad expression on her face and as soon as Draco saw it an angry flame appeared in eyes and he probably hadn’t even registered he had basically confessed to working for Voldermort.
“No. I want to help you,” she retorted.
“It’s the same thing,” stammered Draco.
“I don’t think it is.”
Malfoy looked at her in disbelief. He was probably wondering how she could sit there so calmly and say this to him. He had been spiteful and cruel to her for six years and he was working for the dark wizard who wanted to kill her kind. He probably thought she needed to work on her sense of self-preservation. His eyes darted around their little concealed area in the library. He looked panicked and shaky, like he wanted to run. Malfoy licked his lips nervously and leaned over her.
“Even if I needed or wanted help, I would never lower myself to accepting it from…a…a-“
“Yes, go on, call me a mudblood if it helps you convince yourself you’re better than me,” she taunted, her own anger rising as she stood and faced him. She couldn’t help it. Despite all her determination to stay calm, he just got under her skin. She also noted with a smug sense of victory that he hadn’t been able to say that word again.
“What would make me feel better is you leaving me the hell alone.”
“So you can just continue being Voldermort’s brainless pawn?” she asked a bit crudely, not jumping around the issue. She was surprised by her own daring, but she couldn’t back down now. Hermione watched him flinch and his body jerk forwards as his left arm twitched violently. He strode the two steps towards her and clamped his hand over her mouth, pressing her back to the wall. It was eerily similar to the last time he had pressed her into the wall, and he was fuming.
“Don’t say that name!”
She couldn’t respond even if she wanted to, his palm was pressed over her lips quite forcefully. So she just nodded her head slightly and relaxed under his grip to show she meant no harm. It was like taming a wild beast. He was staring at her with wide eyes, his grip on her shoulders hard and bruising.
It took him a while to register that she was calm and at his mercy. He felt the tension leave her, and it eased him to. Hermione saw him blink a few times and take a deep breath to control himself. She saw the mask come back over his face- he was bloody good actor- and he eventually managed a small smirk.
“All right Granger. I’ll admit you’ve made me curious. I never thought you’d have the balls to say anything to my face. But let me assure you, your pity is not needed. I don’t need pity. I’m proud to serve him and bring honour to my parents.”
She reached up with one steady hand, moving slowly so as not to scare him, and grasped his wrist, lowering his hand slightly away from her mouth.
“You took the dark mark.”
It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. His left arm twitched again noticeably against her, and before he could spit out a threat or even a hex she spoke again with urgency. “I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just want to help you.”
He rolled his eyes at her repeated sentiment.
“Why? You and I have hated each other for six years. Why would you want to help me.?”
She could tell he was desperate to know her answer, to know that she wasn’t just playing some sick joke on him. His eyes were pleading and wide, and had lost that edge of animosity. They pierced hers urgently and made her shiver. She paused and considered his question a bit before she spoke.
“I’ve never hated you. You’ve been horrible, and rude, and spiteful and cowardly.” He winced at that, and she pushed her advantage. “Yes, cowardly! But you’ve never really had much of a choice. I want to give you a choice.”
“But, why?”
She shook her head then and looked at him with equally wide eyes, no malice or trickery in her gaze.
“I don’t know,” she finally confessed, and she felt his grip on her loosen a little.
For some reason her answer just confused him more. His lips pursed into a frown and his brow came down together in a pained scowl, as if he was thinking hard. Maybe he had hoped that she would have some intelligent logic behind it all and that she knew exactly what she was doing, but she was just as lost as he was. He was still leaning in towards her, pressing her against the wall, but she just waited for his response. She felt his shoulders sag and his hands brace themselves on the wall on either side of her as his face crumpled in disappointment.
“This ends now, Granger,” he whispered, his breath tickling her cheek and brushing over her ear. She winced at how forlorn he sounded. “You need to stop this or we’ll both be in danger.”
She continued to stare intently at him.
“I’m not afraid”
He looked down at her and she felt him shudder at their close proximity. She could smell the sweet chocolate with a hint of cinnamon on his breath. He might hate Griffindor stupidity, but surely even he could not deny that she was brave. Maybe she could see that even a small part of him, deep down, looked pleased that she cared about him, that she was offering whatever support she could, even if he felt he couldn’t accept. She knew that she had just taken another chink out of the armour built around him from birth. In the face of her wide-eyed honesty and concern, she saw a slither of need build inside him. It was childish and dangerous, but for some insane reason he couldn’t quit fathom, he suddenly wanted her to care about him. But there was that other part of him, the part that was plagued by nightmares, as she had seen right here in this very spot. He angled his head to the side to peer at her, looking a bit guilty or at least very uncertain of himself.
“You should be.” he muttered. His gaze locked on hers, and with one last push he grabbed his bag and raced out of the library without looking back. Neither of them saw the Headmaster hidden in a corner watching the events unfold.
“Very good,” he whispered. “Very good.”
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A Whole New World