AN: Hey guys! I replaced and editted everything because I wasn't so proud of what this story was before. Anyway, It's about mainly Draco and Hermione. It is still coming together. I sort of only have the outline done. Actually, its partially done. I have a very important decision to make... I'm quite a busy person, but I'm determined. I am determined to finish this story! I'll do as best I can. I am an amateur writer, so don't expect the best. If I ever have time, I'll keep making revisions so this story can be the best it can be. I don't want anyone to read my story and just forget it. Please put it on your Story Alert list. I'm not forcing you to, and I'm not begging for reviews either, though those would be nice. Maybe reviews will make me better and update faster. Ah well. Thanx to the readers I had before. I guess you might have to read my story over again because it could be confusing from where I left off. Don't worry, I wrote more.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything...but I will someday!! Bwahahaha!
Chapter One
Blurs of rich green, umber brown, and dark, silvery blue whizzed past the great Hogwarts Express train. It were deep in the middle of nowhere, rumbling past a long, winding river. The time was just past eleven. The sky above was a forbidding gray. Sunlight struggled vainly to break through clumpy gray clouds drifting with the wind.
Hermione Granger, an eighteen year-old Gryffindor witch now in beauty and still a relentlessly nimble minded maven, sat right up by the window with her face pressed upon the cold glass. She was alone in the compartment. Her famous hero of a friend Harry Potter; her red-haired, more than often red-faced, and even more than often red-eared ex-boyfriend Ron Weasley; one of her few female, still Harry-obsessed, Ron-related friend Ginny Weasley; quirky and broad-minded Luna Lovegood; and even the bungling, fumbling Neville Longbottom had deserted her. Random pieces of junk left by the group rattled and rolled about on the floor. Owl cages jumbled and crashed together loudly, but Hermione hardly took notice. She was lost somewhere in her own mind. Who could ever know what she was thinking.
One possibility was that she was analyzing strange things happening to many of the male students. Already she had caught over ten boys staring at her. She swore they blushed when she caught their gazes with questioning eyes. Now she could be forging a connection between these boys. Perhaps they plotted something for her and her friends. But that couldn't be it. Ron was one of those boys. He wouldn't dare keep anything from her. They had declared true friendship, nothing more, nothing less, shortly after their break-up. She would most certainly ask him a few questions when he got back.
That is, however, if her thoughts were really those suspicions. Running through her mind could be something simple and much more common for a student like her.
The year about to begin would probably be on her mind's agenda. This was her last year. It was bound to be special. The seventh year would sure be something. With interesting new things to learn, teachers to reveal their true thoughts about their departing students, and of course the departure. The Graduation Ball was always something to look forward to. But before that you would have to add to the list of accomplishments. Besides saving the entire wizarding world, valedictorian was the one main goal in life. Even if she had succeeded in getting higher marks than any other student, if she screwed the last year, she would soon be clapping for someone else walking down the stage. The very thought listening to another's success speech and thank-you's and how hard work paid off made her sick. Really, who could be more hardworking than her?
We may never know what she was thinking. She had stopped. Her preoccupied gaze left the scenery. What else would Hermione Granger do?
Thumbing through the pages of an all-time favorite, Hogwarts: A History, she settled herself comfortably in a corner. At a random page, she immersed herself in the book like she'd never read it. This, of course, wasn't true. Her classmates had seen her read the book hundreds of times. And that was only at school. You might think this girl would get tired of it. You're wrong. Some would think she were pitifully obsessed. Others would be simply disgusted.
She had, without even knowing it, trained herself to memorize things with uncanny speed and perfection.
She was murmuring the text of the last two pages --- She may have even traced the pictures in her head. Her speech was a quiet mush, but it appeared her memorization was flawless. Her lips moved as if she were talking normally, her head shook with emotion, and the her hands even shook the book as if she were trying to thoroughly explain to an invisible class of students --- when there was a knock at the door.
She cringed at the sound. Her thoughts, most of the memory of the last two pages, were flooded away by bursts of annoyance. She lifted her magnetized head up from the book. Through the glass of the compartment door she saw two sneering faces.
They both belonged to Slytherins. Both brought back horrid memories and both brought sudden curiosity. The two laughed as she put aside her book. She got up to let them in. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini stepped in without any thanks.
"Aw, yuck," Blaise grimaced enthusiastically, "smells like owl poop, Weasley, toad, and…"
Her heart sank. She had actually looked forward to this year since the war had ended. She had been treated a bit more nicely by some purebloods. She had gotten herself into thinking that the Slytherins would be friendlier towards her, but the spiteful looks of those two didn't promise much.
And now she faced the hateful M word.
"Potter," Draco finished.
Hermione sat in the corner again, looking small as Draco and Blaise towered over at least six feet.
"So what brings you here?" asked Hermione, sounding unintentionally casual and polite.
"Why so friendly, Granger?" Draco asked slyly. Hermione blushed at her foolishness.
Blaise, as he did earlier, looked at her oddly. Or rather, to be more correct, with an expression she failed to identify.
She was going blank at her embarrassment, but blurted, "I asked the question first."
"MmHm, at loss for a good comeback?" Draco inquired, shaking his head disappointedly. "You come up with 'I asked the question first'" He spoke accusingly. There was a mysterious glint in his eye. Was he planning something devious to spit at her? Or was he just up for a fight?
"Maybe Weaselbee ---" started Blaise, snapping out of the trance Hermione had cast upon him. A mean elbow from Draco interrupted him.
"I'm here because I've got some interesting, yet unfortunate news for you," he said after swishing a strand of platinum blonde hair from his face. "Head news."
"Head news? Oh, have you finally gotten enough money to shrink your freakishly large head?" Hermione asked.
"Pathetic, Granger." Draco said, thwarted again by dashing hopes. "Pathetically pathetic. Really, what's gotten into you?" He shook his head.
Blaise look at her expectantly, if not adoringly…dazed… Then Draco said, "Head news as in Head Boy and Head Girl. Duh, Granger."
Oh that news, Hermione thought glumly to herself. She was already down from acting so stupid in front of Draco. It was difficult for her to admit that she was not able to come up with a good comeback because she was so preoccupied with the new image of her school rival. He was taller, more muscular, and less aristocratically dressed: with an old looking emerald green vest over a simple white shirt, sleeves were rolled up halfway, displaying tanner skin, and his hair wasn't gelled. His facial features were bold; maybe he did not look friendly, but she could blame that on that unmistakable trademark smirk he carried all the time. Without it he would look handsome…or maybe handsome-er. He looked neat though, and since Hermione didn't like extremely proper boys or extremely dirty boys, he fell right under perfect, much to her dismay.
Hermione had been so worried when she received only one letter from Hogwarts. She had been expecting another to tell her that she had become Head Girl. She thought the owl may have gotten lost. Up until that day she had been waiting readily at the window. She had let herself agree, not without a huge wave of depression and the mature suppression of a hissy fit, with the fact that some other girl earned the title she had been working towards for years.
"I am Head Boy!" Draco said proudly, flashing a winning smile at her. It disappeared, though. Malfoy's didn't smile.
Hermione feared she had blushed again. She turned redder just at the thought. "So how is that unfortunate?" she asked in attempt to rid the feeling.
"I am not finished yet, Granger," said Draco, glaring at her angrily. "The unfortunate news is," he paused and frowned, "you're Head Girl."
Hermione lit up. "What? How? I didn't get a letter or anything. Why did you ---" she stopped mid-sentence. She was acting excited towards Malfoy.
"Yeah," snorted Draco, dusting off imaginary dust from his clothes. He acted as if she were a filthy creature before him. But how could he? He hadn't even called her the M word, yet.
"McGonagall wants us in the Head's compartment," said Draco and he slid the door open and left. Blaise glanced at her one last time and then trailed after Draco. Hermione thought she heard Draco mutter, "Filthy."
She sighed sadly and slumped into her seat.
Several moments later, as Hermione escaped a dull state of mind, the compartment door slid open. Tall, messy-haired, and lanky Harry and Ron entered, smiling and nodding to Hermione as they plopped onto the seats next to each other. In their arms they each carried heaping piles of chocolate frogs. After combining them into a bigger pile between their seats, they started sifting through the boxes, searching.
"Where did you get all those?" Hermione asked curiously, craning her neck to see what they were looking for. Ron pulled out an ordinary looking box, held it up to his ear, and shook it. Harry did the same with his. "What are you doing?"
"Checking to see if its lucky." replied Harry, and he furrowed his brow again as he shook the box.
"I see, and how will you know if it is?" questioned Hermione.
"We don't know yet," Ron replied, "Fred and George just said we'd know when we've found one."
"What are Fred ---" Hermione stopped. Ginny and Luna entered the compartment, whispering and giggling to each other.
"Hey, Ginny, Luna." greeted Hermione. Luna greeted her as well, but Ginny looked past Hermione to stare admiringly at Harry, rummaging through the pile again.
"It was amazing what you did Harry," Ginny said breathlessly.
"Mm?" Harry looked up at her, "Oh yeah. Yeah, thanks Gin. But I didn't really do anything. It was those first years."
"Yeah, it pretty much was their fault," Ron added, "I mean, who wouldn't know Harry could produce a corporeal Patronous. There was a picture of it on the front cover of the Daily Prophet for Merlin's sakes!"
"It was so magnificent the way you showed them off, Harry." Ginny said, truly proud.
"So you made bets?" asked Hermione, incredulous. Harry and Ron nodded. "Do either of you have any sense of decency at all?! Gambling with first years, taking advantage of them, the very though disgusts me!"
"Jeez, 'Mione. Calm down."
"I will, thank you very much, just as soon as you return all those frogs. Now, or detentions for both of you."
"You can't give us detentions!"
"Yes I can," said Hermione reproachfully. "For your information I've been made--"
"Look, Harry!" said Ron gleefully, shaking a box fiercely. "I think I've found one. Listen."
They all fell silent as Ron shook the box. Surprisingly, croaking sounds were heard.
"A frog croakin' before its left the box. Brilliant!" Ron mused.
"I don't think its coming from the box." said Hermione, and soon, as if on cue, Neville Longbottom stumbled to the entrance of the compartment. He was panting and flushed. Clutched tightly in his hands was a slimy, bumpy toad.
"I found him. I found Trevor."
"See, Ginny? Neville found Trevor all by himself, but if we hadn't had to race to Harry because you saw him with those first years, he would have found him faster."
"I was curious," Ginny said sheepishly to Luna.
"Yes, well anyway," Hermione started after watching Ginny blush and hide behind Luna, "I've been made Head Girl."
"That's great, Hermione." said Ginny.
"Congratulations." Luna said.
"Yeah, congratulations!" Neville chimed in.
"Why didn't you tell us before?" Ron asked.
"Didn't find out until just now," Hermione replied quietly.
"Well, we're all proud of you Hermione." Harry said.
"Thank you," Hermione said, "um, so you and Ron take the frogs back. I'm late! I've got to meet Professor McGonagall at the Head's compartment. See you." She took her book bag and hurried out.
She made her way through the thick crowd of students in the hall, saying many apologies and pardons in the process.
In her haste, she didn't realize she had no idea where the Head's compartment was. She ended up halted at a dead end. Feeling like an idiot, she scanned the crowd for someone who could help her.
There actually weren't many people around. The mob was off in the distance down the hall. Near her was a group of second year boys huddled together, deep in conversation, probably plotting something. The loner wandering about was a short, peculiar looking girl. She was wearing very colorful clothing: a bright patterned purple shirt under a small, dark denim vest decorated with glitter and sequins; she had two short skirts on: a ruffled scarlet skirt poofing up a dark denim decorated skirt. Bright orange and black striped socks reached just past her knees. Her blonde hair was up in two pigtails and streaked several times with lightning blue. Sure she looked a bit flamboyant, but the look was kind of cute. Of course, you would never see Hermione wearing clothes like that.
The girl's face looked a little too old for her petite size. She was older than the second year boys, she knew that for sure. Third-year probably? Then how come she had never seen her before? She seemed the better choice to ask for help of the two.
"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, tapping the girl's shoulder lightly. She whirled around, startled.
"Oh, yes?"
"Could you help me? I seem to have forgotten where the Head Boy and Head Girl's compartment is located. Do you know by any chance?"
"Um, well I did see two seventh years pass by here talking about the Head Girl. Could that be you?"
"Yes. Where did they go then?"
"You were just there." the girl pointed her finger of her gloved hand at the dead end Hermione was just at.
"But it's a--"
"Yeah, I know. They walked right through it! It was just like Platform 9¾, except I think there's another charm on it because I can't get in."
"Okay. I think I can get in. I should be able to." Hermione started towards the dead end, then she remembered something and ran back to the girl. "Sorry, forgot to thank you. Um, thanks. I'm Hermione Granger."
"Oh I know you. Other people have been talking about you. The guys think you're hot, especially one of the boys who just went into that compartment. These two Slytherin girls were making fun of you. Calling you a…a mudblood."
"Yeah, um I kinda didn't need to know that." Hermione said stiffly.
"Its really not much of an insult, you know. Its just something for purebloods to say to make themselves feel better. My mum's muggle-born. My dad's muggle-born. Hmm, maybe that makes me half-blood?"
Hermione laughed uncertainly.
"Anyhoo, I'm Georgie Isilee."
"Pleased to meet you, Georgie. Sorry, gotta go."
Passing through the wall felt awfully like flooing and using a portkey. When she opened her eyes she saw three people looking at her. Anger, but mostly embarrassment surged from the ends of her curly brown hair to the tips of her toes. Blaise Zabini sat studying every single aspect of her body like some obsessed pervert. Draco Malfoy sat with his legs crossed, leaning back in his seat clearly entertained, and with that infamous smirk hanging on his face. What disturbed her most was Professor McGonagall sitting directly in front of her. Her lips were pressed tightly together, her eyebrows were quirked up, and she was looking stern and un-approving at her. Hermione only got that look when she was with Harry or Ron. Seeing a teacher like this towards her made her want to cry. Perfect students just don't take this sort of treatment like others.
"Ms. Granger, do you have any explanation for why you were late?"
"Yes, I er," said Hermione, playing with her fingers and blinking nervously at the floor, "I was dealing with a few misbehaving students."
"Ah, thank you for doing your duty, Hermione." At this, Hermione felt instantly happy because she thought she was no longer in trouble. She shot a gloating look at Draco. He replied by not changing his expression.
"That's not what it looked like when you were chatting with the freak peacock." Draco said.
"I was just lost, Malfoy. I asked for directions…How did you know that?"
His eyes gestured to the wall behind her. She turned and, to her horror, there wasn't one. The wall was transparent, she found out when she reached out to touch it. She could see Georgie daydreaming as she was wandering and the boys shouting in protest for one another. She could not hear any of them, though.
"I…"
"Mr. Malfoy, did you not tell her where the compartment was?"
"I assumed she knew, being the insufferable know-it-all she is."
"Mr. Malfoy, I would appreciate it if you would stop insulting her and her friends."
"But you know its true, professor."
"Its rude to talk back to teachers, Mr. Malfoy. Any more of that and I'll be docking points."
"We haven't even started school yet."
"It doesn't matter. You mustn't be acting so rudely."
Hermione sent a triumphant gloating look at Draco. He leered back.
"Now," said Professor McGonagall, "congratulations for being made Head Boy and Girl. The Headmaster and the rest of the staff find you both extremely capable. You will have many great responsibilities as Heads and we know it will be difficult so we you have been given privileges. You can stay up until midnight and can be up as early as 4 o' clock in the morning. However you must spend a large fraction of this extra time patrolling the school. You may deduct however many points you find suitable from any house. You also receive the privilege of receiving extra education about the school. You may get an exclusive tour of the school with Argus Filch, you know, to see how things work and what a professors life is like---"
"How come we never heard of this before?"
"Sadly, not very many Heads choose to use this wonderful opportunity. But knowing you, Hermione," Professor McGonagall smiled at her, "I'm sure you would."
"Oh yes, of course, professor." Hermione said happily as Draco muttered something under his breath. Blaise elbowed him. "So when is this tour?"
"Whenever you want, dear." Professor McGonagall said. "Where was I? Oh yes, we have a new Muggle Studies Teacher. We'd like you two to maybe show her around. To make it easier for you and her, we've enrolled you both and your Auxiliars in her class."
"Pardon me, professor, what is an Auxiliar?"
"You don't know? Oh silly me, I forgot to ask you why you came alone. Draco, did you not tell her?"
"Must've forgotten."
"Well then," McGonagall said frustrated. "The Headmaster wants to create and reinforce Inter-House Unity, and you two are a big part. You will be scheduling house parties and other events. You are also in charge of the events and other things happening during Quidditch matches and such. This will be a challenge and to help you, the Headmaster decided you should each have a helper. You may choose your helper, as Draco has with Mr. Zabini. He or she must be capable as well, do not just choose a good friend."
"What if I chose Harry or Ron?"
"Nice idea, it may improve the relationship between Slytherin, but those two have a very big reputation for rule breaking. So the other Heads of Houses and I probably won't approve."
"Oh."
"Yeah, Granger. Making Potter or Weasley is a death wish for all of you."
"Shut up, Malfoy."
"Why don't you?"
"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, stop." Professor McGonagall said reproachfully. "Anyway, the new teacher's name is Jolene Isilee. You will not have much trouble finding her. As for your dorms, you and your Auxiliars will share a small wing. I will show you later." She glanced out the window. "We are nearing the school. Change into your robes. You may all stay in here if you like, but Ms. Granger, I'd like you to find a suitable Auxiliar. Make sure he or she is in sixth or seventh year. I might not be able to check him or her so make a good choice. Ta." Professor McGonagall left the room, to the surprise of the group of boys just outside.
"Did she say the new professor's name was Isilee?" asked Hermione.
"Are you talking to me?" Blaise asked hopefully.
"I don't know. That girl out there is named Georgie Isilee. Maybe she's her daughter."
"Yeah well if it is," Draco said, looking at Georgie in disgust, "her mother's probably even more mentally insane than she is. Imagine being taught by her! Oh, if my father even heard about me being in Muggle Studies---"
"He won't. He's dead. Arthur Weasley and Xeno Lovegood killed him."
"Shut up!" Draco thundered, making Hermione jump. Looking at the savage anger and sorrow in his eyes, she fled.
As she ran down the hall, she heard Draco say. "I can not believe the guts of that girl…I can not believe the guts of you, Blaise!"