Hermione Granger was not happy. Not in the least, and all of the little rivers, and streams, and brooks of annoyance stemmed from one ocean. An ocean by the name of Draco Malfoy.
It was all his fault. Every single thing. Had he not become Head Boy, she wouldn't have had to live with him. She wouldn't have had to become even remotely civil towards him. She would not have learned all of his odd little quirks; like always having to have a cupcake with butter-cream icing before he went to bed, and always having to style his hair at least five different ways when he knew damned well that he was going to slick it back in that horrendously perfect hair style. She would have never have become his friend. She would never have gotten to her first class only to find out that he had taken her bag on accident, and thus would have never had one of the worst days in her academic life; In which she was late for her first and second classes, didn't have her homework for her third, and missed lunch tracking down her bag, which was still with the evil prat who grinned widely when her saw her and gave her the bag and a hug for all her trouble.
She would not have gone off to her fourth and last class of the day, Potions, in a slightly happier, yet still incredibly pissy mood, and she wouldn't have found a letter declaring Draco Malfoy's love for Hermione Granger.
She wouldn't have walked through the torrential rain to the Quidditch Pitch to find said Draco Malfoy, captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team during his practice, and her shirt would not have been so violently see through. And Hermione Granger would most certainly not be in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch in the afore mentioned torrential rain watching impatiently as Draco Malfoy signaled his team to the ground.
Said captain landed gracefully and looked questioningly at Hermione, who took a rather large breath, and proceeded to rant.
"This is entirely your fault you arrogant jerk! You, and your ridiculous habits, and your 'forgetfulness', and your stupid spectacular hugs, and your freaking love note, and your damned perfection! It's your fault!," Her voice rose to a scream, "I'm in love! In in love with you, you stupid, horrible person! I blame you!"
With that, she spun around and began to stride away, with as much dignity as some one who had just screamed a love confession out to their love interest in front of a group of said love interest's annoying friends could. Of course since Draco had been the first one to own up to the fact that he was in love, he was not presently in a mild psychotic break down. Quite the opposite really.
Not two steps away, Hermione found herself stopped by the wrist and spun around gently. She looked defiantly up at Draco, whose face was lit up in a shameless smile and soaking wet from the rain. He took her equally rain drenched face in his hands
"I'll happily take any blame for such heinous crimes." He told her, smiling gently before lowering his lips to hers. The Slytherin Quidditch Team looked on in mild disgust of the couple, but only one question was raised:
"Does this mean that practice is over?"