A/N: Just trying this plot...let me know how it is! I always hated how much Hermione was under Harry and Ron's thumb.

Disclaimer: I do not own the song lyrics, so do not report this for copyright infringement. Don't say I didn't warn you. I also do not own Harry Potter, no matter how many times I wish upon a shooting star...or a Shooting Knid.


Chapter One: You Never Know What You Have


Finally blew up in my face
Crash and burnt to pieces
You got what you want from me
I gave you what you needed

I was warned but fooled by charm
And you deserve to be alone...

— Better, by Meghan Trainor


Hermione blinked back tears as she stood at the railing in the Astronomy Tower late at night. It was past curfew, but she didn't care. She replayed the conversation over again in her head:

"Hermione!" Harry called, waving her over to him, Ron, and Ginny. She had just walked in the common room, back from a late-night sojourn at the library.

Hermione crossed the room and plopped down in an overstuffed armchair beside Ginny. "Hello, boys and Ginny," she greeted. "What are you doing?"

Ron looked up from his parchment and said, "Oh, thank Merlin! I'm so glad you're here! I need some help with my Potions essay. I only need—" he waved his wand over the piece of parchment and continued, "Another three feet and three-quarters inches."

Hermione groaned: "That essay is supposed to be four feet long! And it's due tomorrow morning! You know how Professor Snape is when you don't do the work!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Come on, 'Mione, just write it out! You know as well as I do that it'll only take a few minutes for you, since you're such a know-it-all swot."

Hermione glared at the black-haired boy and said, "Do it yourself, Ronald! And don't you take that tone with me, Harry James Potter!"

Harry glared right back. "Well, then, help him!"

Hermione turned pink, and slowly became redder and redder in the cheeks as her anger mounted. Finally, she shot one last dagger-loaded stare at the two idiotic boys that were somehow her friends, kissed Ginny on the cheek, picked up her overflowing book bag, and got up and marched out.

A tear welled up in her eyes and slipped through her tightly squeezed eyelid. She leaned forward and rested her forehead on the cool metal of the railing.

Why hadn't she just helped Ron? Now both of her best friends were mad at her!

You're fed up of being under their thumbs, a quiet voice whispered in her ear, and she started.

Was that true? Was she tired of being bossed around? Was she sick of acting as Harry and Ron's portable library?

A feather-light touch ghosted over her arm, and she spun around, hand groping at her waist for her wand.

Draco Malfoy held up his hands defensively. "Whoa there, Granger! What's got you like this?"

Hermione sniffled and wiped her damp cheeks. "Nothing's wrong, Ferret," she replied, but without the sting behind her words.

Malfoy peered at her, clearly doubting the truth of her statement. "Then why are you crying?" He asked in the softest, kindest voice Hermione had ever heard from him. "Was it Weasel and Pot-head?"

Hermione smiled through her tears at the once-offensive nicknames. They didn't bother Harry and Ron anymore, although when Malfoy called them that, they never passed up a chance to hex their long-time enemy. "They didn't mean it," she sighed. "They never mean anything by it."

"But they say it anyway," Malfoy finished. "Why do you let them walk over you? Why do you always do their homework for them when they're perfectly capable of doing it themselves?"

"They aren't really," Hermione murmured. All she received was a blank stare. She elaborated: "They aren't capable of doing it themselves."

This comment earned a smile from the blonde boy, and Hermione almost gaped at the sight. A real smile—not a smirk! "Why are you up here, Granger?" Malfoy asked again. "What did the Dumb Duo do this time?"

"Nothing," Hermione sighed, "Harry just called me a swot—again."

Malfoy's face scrunched up in confusion. "But he calls you that all the time. Weasley, too. What made it different this time?"

Hermione tilted her head and twisted her lips to one side, as if thinking hard. "I don't know," she admitted truthfully. "I guess sometimes enough is just enough. Knowing them, they'll try to apologize tomorrow."

"And dig themselves in even deeper," Malfoy snorted. Hermione smiled and nodded in agreement.

"I'm just...tired of it all, you know? Tired of being used as their homework machine, tired of never being thought of as a girl, tired of being given the silent treatment when I'm trying to help the idiots. I feel like that all I'm useful for is my knowledge. They use me."

"And they don't know exactly what they have," Malfoy said softly. She blinked at him.

The blonde boy edged closer. "They don't understand how precious a gift you are," he murmured. "They have no idea what they just lost when they insulted you." Hermione stared at him in confusion. "I do," he whispered before he leaned in and brushed his lips across hers.

The kiss was short, but sweet, and Hermione touched her lips reverently when he pulled away. Draco leaned his forehead against hers, his breath softly ghosting across her lips and cheeks and making her shiver slightly.

"Damn it, Granger. Those lips have been driving me crazy for the last month."

Hermione smiled. "I shall thank them later, then."

Malfoy wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to his firm chest. "Their loss," he whispered, his warm breath fanning over her lips before he claimed them again with his own.