Author's Note:

Dear the person reading this. This story is a collaboration between Redbean99 and I. Both of us have never written a fanfic before, though we have read many. Please review and let us know what you think about it. And if you like it, we will update once a week. Thank you and keep reading, or writing.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, J.K. Rowling does.

"Life is filled with secrets,

You can't learn them all at once."

~Dan Brown, The Da Vinci Code

It was an average, sunny day at the Burrow. Hermione was at the dining table with Ron and Harry, casually chatting while munching on some Wizard Charms when an owl swooped in and dropped a letter into Hermione's bowl of cereal.

"A letter from Hogwarts," She said. Hermione wasn't exactly pleased that her cereal was now more ink than milk. She gingerly pulled the letter out of the bowl and cast a quick spell to return it back to its original state.

Ron rubbed his eyes, he'd just woken up and it was too early for him to start the day. While Harry was busy making lovey-dovey eyes at Ginny, Hermione neatly opened the envelope and scanned the letter, her brown eyes taking in every word at an astounding speed.

"I- I can't believe it," Hermione exclaimed.

"What is it, Hermione?" Ron and the rest of the Weasley family, along with Harry, chorused. They had all gathered anxiously behind Hermione, trying to get a view of the letter.

"I- I this is… so exciting," Hermione stuttered.

"Bloody hell, just tell us what it is already," Ron muttered.

"The letter said, that I'm Head Girl," Hermione announced, overwhelmed.

Mr and Mrs Weasley, Percy, Bill, Charlie, George, Ron, Ginny and Harry all began to clap and hoot. Molly patted the new Head Girl of Hogwarts kindly on the back.

Meanwhile, at Malfoy Manor, a certain blond-haired pureblood stood at the fireplace with a letter gripped in his hands. "Father did nothing wrong. He did nothing wrong," Draco ripped the letter into pieces and threw it into the fire, its fiery ember resembling his mood. "How dare they?" Draco asked to no one.

"Sweetie, your father was in the wrong and we must accept that.," a voice called.

"How would you know? My father is dead, or whatever's left of him anyway. He is gone. Everything is gone. Voldemort is gone and our reputation is gone. It's all that Potter's fault!" Draco snapped.

"Draco. Don't use that tone on me." Narcissa sighed. "Stop with that attitude, Draco. What do you hope to accomplish with it?"

"Mother, do you really think you'll ever understand?" Draco was about to continue when an owl flew through an open window and gracefully perched on an expensive armrest. It just happened to be the one Lucius preferred.

Crossing the room in long strides, with his mother following behind, Draco reached for the letter attached to the owl's leg. It was addressed to him, the oddly specific address of Draco Malfoy telling so. After unrolling the parchment, all Draco could do was gape wide-mouthed at it. A few moments later, seeing as it wasn't getting any treats, the wise, and hungry, messenger with wings flew off into the morning sky.

Two weeks later, Hermione stood at platform 9 and ¾ with Harry. Hermione, Ron, Harry and Ginny, who waved their farewells and boarded the Hogwarts Express. Their seventh and last year of Hogwarts commenced with students staring and pointing at the Golden Trio, and Ginny of course. The wide-eyed and enthusiastic first years made Harry smile and put him in a good mood, despite the fact that he (and Ron) had not been chosen for Head Boy to captain Hogwarts with Hermione. Harry laced his fingers with Ginny's.

"Let's go find a spot to sit."

Soon, the four friends were sat in a cosy compartment for their second last train ride to Hogwarts. They were all talking about the good old times when a friendly visitor popped his head in.

"Hello, Neville," Ginny said cheerfully, her head rested on Harry's shoulder.

"I was just wondering if you'd seen my pet toad, Trevor," Neville said comically, which was followed by an explosion of laughter.

"Come sit with us, Neville, we were just talking about Voldemort," Hermione emphasised the last word with defiance.

Neville sighed. "Of course, you were. Aren't there better things to talk about?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Speaking of which, how do you think Malfoy is doing?"

"What do you mean?" asked Ron.

"It's just, now that his father's in Azkaban and-"

Their conversation was interrupted by the sliding of the door. In came Lavender Brown, freshly permed hair and all.

"Oh my gosh, I can't believe I just so happened to have picked the carriage you're in, Won Won!" Lavender gushed. At an amazing speed, she plopped down right next to Ron, squishing Hermione to the side, and went on about how marvellous he was.

Ron, being Ron, was blushing redder and redder after each compliment. To Hermione's shock, he didn't tell Lavender that he was taken, being Hermione's boyfriend. Instead, he let Lavender continue her stream of flirtatious praise. By now, Hermione was upset and Ron was even redder than his hair. His ego had become almost as large as the steam coming out of Hermione's ears.

"Guys, I'm really sorry but I have to go to the Heads and Prefect's compartment. I was actually due two minutes ago. I really have to go. Bye." Hermione burst out. She turned back to Ron and Lavender, her mouth prepared to say something. But with one last defeated glance, Hermione left.

Walking along the train, and past the many compartments, Hermione was deep in thought. Her mind kept flicking back to the scene before: Lavender's hand rested on Ron's knee, Lavender's irritating giggles and, worst of all, Ron's enjoyment of her company. By now Hermione was so deep in thought, that as she arrived at the compartment she bumped into someone, a tall boy with platinum-blonde hair. "I'm so sorry," Hermione stepped back, rubbing her forehead in pain. She continued to apologise, until she realised who she was speaking to...