Important Author's Note: So yes, this is the story that was formerly called "Causes and Effects of Shagging". Some of you have already read the first twenty or so chapters, but I've got a little surprise for you. It's all been revised. Yes, that's right, some significant changes have been made and there's more story. I personally would suggest rereading it, even if you only skim the chapters. I wouldn't want you guys to be confused by the time you reach chapter twenty-three…

So let me explain. The story was taken down (I can't be sure exactly how it all came about, but I've got my suspicions…) after I received an email from the fanfiction administrators questioning the G rated-ness of the title. Hmm, I thought, I'll just have to change it, no problem with that. I still have all of your reviews in my mailbox, all 378 of them, so don't fear, I still remember everything you guys have said.

If you're new to this story, then keep reading. If you're not then don't bother reading the introduction again. Just skip past the next section, and get on with the story!

Hello everyone, this is coldlove...I'm ashamed to say it, but this is my first fanfiction story, although I've been an active reader for about two years now. (And if you are somehow interested in the person behind the story, check out my profile.) There isn't really much for me to say besides read and enjoy.

However, there are a few mandatory things I have to put in here before the story begins. I think I might need a disclaimer. So...

Disclaimer: All characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series. I'm not even particularly attached to any of them anyway, so I won't take credit when it belongs somewhere else. This goes for all subsequent chapters too...

Ah yes; reviews. Reviews make my day, literally. I sit and read them over and over, then think about them every night before I go to sleep. :) Just kidding, but it's nice to get them all the same…

So, now that all that boring stuff is over, let's get on with the story...

The Return to Hogwarts

It was 7:30 in the morning of September 1. Hermione Granger awoke from a series of pleasant dreams and reluctantly rolled out of bed. In order for her day to be productive in any way she would first need a shower, and so she headed to the bathroom seconds after her feet touched the carpeted floor of her bedroom. Her thoughts wandered back to the subject of her dreams, and where her day would eventually lead her—Hogwarts. Ever since she'd received the news that she was to be the newest Head Girl, her mind and thoughts—and apparently her dreams too—were filled with the idea of it. She couldn't say that it had been much of a surprise. Her closest friends, scattered acquaintances, and even her worst enemies had all been surer of her intelligence than she had been herself. Harry and Ron and Ginny constantly praised Hermione for 'how bloody smart' she always was and had been. And now here was the proof. So while Hermione hadn't always been convinced, now she could no longer deny it.

And with the position of Head Girl, she felt that she could finally do things. It gave her power, and, she promised herself, respect. The students would listen, the teachers would listen, and after her Hogwarts career had ended, she was guaranteed an important role in the wizarding world. The year would be a blast, and with her three closest friends at her side, nothing could go wrong.

And so the one hitch in the plan was, of course, Draco Malfoy. Someone he had managed to snatch the Head Boy position for himself. Hermione had never paid particular attention to him besides in reply to his snide comments, and she'd thrown for a loop by the idea that maybe he wasn't the complete idiot she'd always thought him. But, no matter how intelligent he might turn out to be, Hermione was not looking forward to a year of forced interaction with him. He had managed, in a surprisingly small number of instances, to become one of the most infuriatingly annoying people she'd ever met in her life. And to know that it would only get worse…

"Hermione, are you coming down?"

"Yeah, I'll be out in a second," she called out to her mother. She ended her shower and stepped back into her room to decide what she would wear. After all, it was the first day of her last year at Hogwarts, so she might as well look good. She slipped on a red shirt (the color had grown on her after so many years in Gryffindor), her favorite pair of jeans, and black boots, then prepared to make her way downstairs.

"—last year in that school and what are we going to do?"

Hermione stopped at the sound of her mother's voice in conversation with her father's. She stood at the bottom of the staircase and waited to hear the rest of what her parents were apparently discussing—her.

"Well, she certainly has to attend a university next year," her father said matter-of-factly.

"And how is that going to happen? No school is going to accept a diploma from a wizarding school. They'll think it's a joke."

"Problem solved, then," Hermione said as she walked into the kitchen. "I'll just stay in the wizarding world."

Her parents were sitting at the kitchen counter having breakfast and looked up at the sound of her voice, then each other.

"Honey," her mother began, "you can't stay in the wizarding world."

"Why not!"

"You can't live there and here at the same time."

"I know, mum. I'm going to come back and visit."

"That's what you say," her father interjected as he placed his newspaper down on the counter.

"You know whenever you have a break you never really want to come home," her mother said.

"What are you talking about? I come home every holiday, don't I?"

"Yes, but do you really want to?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. Her parents just couldn't restrain themselves from worrying about her presence in the magical world. She sat down on a stool and picked up a piece of toast, determined to ignore her parents for the rest of the meal. The kitchen was silent until her mother said finally spoke.

"We should probably leave at 8:00 if you don't want to miss the train."

"I know, mum," Hermione said in a drone. She got up and went into the living room where her trunks were waiting. Her father quickly packed them as she and her mother got into the car.

Ten minutes into the ride her mother finally spoke. "So…Hermione, you've got some head position at your school, right? The highest for a student?"

"Yeah, I'm the Head Girl," Hermione replied but said no more.

"Well, honey, you know I'm proud of you."

"Though, it's not really much of a surprise, is it?" her father said. "You were always good at whatever you did."

"Always," her mother agreed. "Does that mean there's a Head Boy too?"

"Yeah, there's a Head Boy," Hermione said, and her thoughts immediately slipped back to their earlier subject. She was still in relative shock of Malfoy's attainment of the position. Really, it was utterly unexpected. If not for the fact that he didn't grunt like the idiots that constantly surrounded him, she would've thought it was one big joke.

An image of his face came to mind and a shiver went down her spine. Though she put up a front whenever he harassed her or her friends, inside, Hermione was still a little scared of him. He was unrestrained in his cruelty to her, and took as many chances as possible to call her mudblood and insult her background. And he was just as haughty and cruel to others. He walked the halls of the school as if he owned Hogwarts and everybody in it.

And his expression. What had made her shiver not two seconds before was the sheer hatred with which he always regarded her, especially since after a particularly biting, and accurate, remark she'd made to him the year before.

She'd been on her way to Potions with Harry and Ron when Malfoy had slammed past her, nearly throwing her off-balance and scattering her books all over the floor.

"Watch where you're going, mudblood," he'd said as he continued on down the corridor without breaking his stride.

Maybe it had just been that particular day, but it was too much for Hermione to bear. She'd sped up and placed herself suddenly in front of him, and he'd looked down and stopped.

"You should know, Malfoy, that for the life of me I cannot figure out why you're such a disgusting person. I know you can't help that everyone in your family is evil, but those expectations don't serve as an excuse for your immature, prick-like manners."

Hermione had glared at him with positive fury in her eyes as she said these words. Malfoy had seemed to be at a loss for words for a moment and completely surprised at her exclamation. But he'd recovered from the shock quickly enough and had glared back at her with a new and even more threatening expression of hate. Harry and Ron seemed to sense danger and had pulled Hermione away from Malfoy and their staring match into the relative safety of the Potions classroom.

So now, when he wasn't giving her that particular look of intense hatred, or making fun of Harry and Ron, his expression was as smooth and blank as a piece of paper. Besides the ever-present loathing on his part, she could never tell what exactly was on his mind.

And then there was his track record with the female population of Hogwarts. Rumor had it that he'd bedded at least fifty percent of the girls at the school. Hermione had never thought of Malfoy in that respect because she was so incredibly repulsed by his character. But apparently everyone else thought that he was the hottest thing in existence, and he used that fact to his advantage. As Ginny said, he shagged girls faster than he could count them all. So, with morals like that on top of his detestable personality, how could Malfoy possibly be a person she could stand?

But why was she even thinking about this subject at all? Damn her and her detailed memory; she always seemed to be lapsing into moments of thought about the most arbitrary things and people, even ones like this that gave her no pleasure whatsoever.

"Hermione…Hermione!"

"Yeah?" she replied, coming out of her trance.

"We're here."

Hermione looked through the window up at King's Cross Station and her thoughts flashed over her remaining year at Hogwarts. She couldn't believe that this was the last time she'd ever need to board the train here. But now her parents were beginning to unload the car and she could no longer linger to muse on that subject. She stepped out of the car, took hold of a suitcase in each hand, and followed her parents into the station. All her luggage was loaded onto a giant cart, and Hermione prepared to wheel it away.

Her mother sighed, then gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek.

"We love you honey."

"I love you guys too."

"Good luck. We're proud of you."

"Thanks, mum," Hermione said as she made her way to Platform 9 ¾. Heading straight for the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, she made sure that no one was looking as she pushed her way through and on to the other side.

And there it was; the Hogwarts Express, steaming away as dozens of students made their way back and forth, hugging parents, pushing luggage, and boarding the train.

Hermione smiled as she got her luggage on the train. She stepped back onto the platform to see if she could spot Harry, Ron, and Ginny. No such luck, so she headed to the compartment she usually shared with them.

"Hey guys!" she said as she saw all three already sitting down inside.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed and rose to crush her in a hug. "You look different," he said as he pulled away. "Did you grow an inch or something?"

"Ha ha, very funny, but yes," she said in response. "Though it's easy for you joke about height, isn't it? And you too, Harry," Hermione said as he walked over.

The Boy Who Lived grinned happily and enveloped her in a long hug. "Well, I try."

"Hermione, I don't know what it is," Ginny said as they embraced, "but you look positively radiant."

Hermione laughed. "What are you talking about?" she asked as Ginny pulled her to sit down.

"I told you Hermione, you changed," Ron said. "You grew…"

"Yeah, you're glowing," Ginny said ignoring him. "You look more…confident or something. And it suits you."

Hermione inwardly smiled at Ginny's unexpected comment; perhaps her Head position was already having its effects.

"I'm so glad you made Head Girl," the younger Weasley continued, then began thinking aloud about how much fun she anticipated that year.

Hermione had told her, and Harry and Ron of course, almost as soon as she'd received the letter. She'd also told them that Malfoy was the Head Boy—and what unwelcome news that was. Even though their entire correspondence had been through owl post, Hermione could still imagine Ron's face reddening as he read the letter and processed the fact that Malfoy had actually gotten the position.

Hermione came back to the moment and checked her watch. 9:04. And she had a rendezvous with Malfoy and Professor McGonagall at 9:10. "Guys, I've got a meeting just about now." She stood up to leave. "I'll see you later."

"With Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"He is the other Head…"

"I swear…"Ron said, shaking his head.

"Don't know how he managed that," Harry said.

"Probably paid for by his father. Such a git."

"You know guys," Hermione began even though she knew it would be in his defense, "he's not a complete idiot. It might be a surprise, but after my marks, his are the best in our year."

"Still doesn't deserve it."

Hermione laughed at the sour expression on Ron's face. "I'll be back as soon as I can," she said, then left, making her way towards the Heads' compartment.