Author's Note: I know the plot is cliché, but I've always felt there are very few well-written stories about it. So, after a very long reprieve, I have finally decided to return to fanfiction. Here's the plot line:

Hermione is Head Girl. Draco is Head Boy. They have to share living quarters together at Hogwarts. Draco thinks his life is planned out for him and makes no effort to change that course. Hermione is convinced he's just as bad as his father. Time passes and they very, very, VERY slowly begin to trust and care about each other. They SLOWLY become aware of a mutual attraction but don't know how to handle it. Finally the sexual tension between them explodes and they lose all their inhibitions with each other. For a while it's just sex, and then SLOWLY they begin to realize they are falling in love. Of course, all of this is kept very secret. No one but Draco and Hermione know about it. Unfortunately, Draco is supposed to propose to Pansy at their graduation, and Hermione doesn't know yet. What happens when she finds out? Will Draco have the courage to take responsibility for his destiny?

Anyway, hope you enjoy. This promises to be a long project. XO

CHAPTER i

There was a hummingbird drinking nectar from the blossoms on the cherry tree, zooming back and forth between the branches in its quest to find the sweetest bud. The beating of its wings created a low hum in the warm afternoon air.

Draco Malfoy watched the bird for a few moments with bored interest before raising his wand. There was a loud pop and he reached out to catch one soft, sandy feather that floated downward.

"For you," he said with a sarcastic smirk, and deposited the feather carelessly on the palm of his companion.

"Oh Draco!" the girl cooed, "how sweet of you!" She scooted towards Draco and snaked her arm around him, trying to tickle him by inserting the feather into his left ear. Draco pushed her away.

"Bugger off, Pansy." He could never tolerate her incessant blathering or none-too-subtle attempts at seduction.

"You're never any fun!" she accused.

Pansy thought she looked very sexy when she pouted the way she did now, but Draco didn't seem to notice. He never was particularly attentive. She turned away from him, huffing angrily. Draco ignored her, preoccupied with other matters that, judging by his scowl, were none too pleasant.

"The pudding is simply outstanding, Molly, dear."

"Yeah mum, you really outdid yourself this time!"

Molly Weasley bustled around the crowded kitchen table, ladling second servings of bread pudding to everyone present, regardless of protests made by those who had already eaten too much.

"Hermione, dear, you're looking much too thin! I hope you haven't been buying into any of that dieting nonsense," Mrs. Weasley scolded as she observed Hermione's unfinished dessert.

"She's fine, mum, leave her alone!" Ron replied through a spoonful of pudding.

"Ron, don't talk with your mouth full," Hermione said and poked him in the ribs. "And thanks, Mrs. Weasley, it was delicious but I really can't eat another bite."

At Harry's hopeful glance, Hermione laughed and handed him her bowl.

She reflected. Acting cheerful and optimistic didn't come easily anymore. Since Dumbledore's death, nothing did. But in an attempt to preserve their sanity, they did their best to carry on as before and suppress the stifling uncertainty and fear of what was to come.

She, Harry, Ron, and Ginny were at the greatest disadvantage. They had proven themselves to be more than capable of fighting effectively for the Order, yet they were required to return to Hogwarts for their seventh and sixth years (respectively), and watch the fight from the sidelines. They would inevitably partake in the final battle, but until the Order deemed it appropriate, they were not allowed to receive any inside information. Harry especially felt the injustice of this very acutely.

Hermione's musings were interrupted as four large owls soared into the Weasleys' kitchen through the open window. They delivered a gust of warm air laced with the smell honeysuckle, and Hermione thought distantly to herself that weather ought to adjust itself to reflect peoples' emotions. After all, late summer sunshine seemed very out of place given the current circumstances.

"Those must be your Hogwarts' letters," George said as he peered at the envelope attached to the leg of the nearest owl. "They're coming pretty late this year."

Ron tore his open, barely glanced at it and resumed licking his bowl. Harry followed suit.

"Same old, as always."

"Yeah, but we should go pick up our books tomorrow before they sell out," Ginny replied, scanning her textbook list.

"Bill or I will go with you," Arthur interjected, and raised his eyebrows when Ginny looked ready to argue. "You lot aren't going to Diagon Alley alone when all this is going on. I don't want to hear any complaints."

Ginny lowered her gaze, but Hermione could tell she was furious. Personally, she herself was more than irritated with the way they were always treated as incompetents in need of protection.

Ron suddenly looked at Hermione. "Well?" he asked expectantly and grinned at her.

She hesitated. Her letter lay unopened in front of her. This was the moment she had been anxiously awaiting for six years. She had always dreamed of becoming Head Girl, and even though she knew she was more than qualified for the position, the possibility of not having gotten it made her reluctant to open the envelope and face disappointment.

"Go on, open it," Bill encouraged. Hermione vaguely remembered that he had been Head Boy during his last year at Hogwarts.

Feigning confidence, she picked up the envelope, broke the seal and tipped its contents onto the table. For a moment she saw only parchment and was gripped by an overwhelming sense of loss. Then Ginny let out a loud whoop and her hand darted out to grab something. The red and gold badge with the words Hermione Granger: Head Girl was resting in her hand.

The Weasleys erupted in applause and congratulations, and for the first time in several months, Hermione felt a ray of genuine happiness penetrate her. Perhaps everything would turn out alright after all.

"Good evening, Mother, Father," Draco murmured as he stepped into the grand dining hall of the Manor.

"Good evening, dear," his mother replied with a fond smile. "Come sit down. The elves prepared oysters tonight, your favorite."

"No," Lucius Malfoy interrupted curtly. "He arrived late. You are too lenient on him, Narcissa."

Draco felt his blood boil as he saw his mother wither beneath his father's gaze. She lowered her eyes to her plate but did not resume eating.

Lucius snapped his fingers and a house elf appeared immediately at his right elbow.

"Yes, master?" it asked, visibly trembling.

Lucius didn't even look at the creature. "Bring this fool I have the honor of calling my son a plate of yesterday's cold stew and a pitcher of water."

The elf nodded emphatically, disappeared with a pop and materialized again thirty seconds later, this time beside Draco who had taken a seat at the opposite end of the long mahogany dining table.

Draco kept his face down to keep his anger in check. Ever since he had failed to kill Dumbledore, Lucius had tormented him endlessly. His father's physical punishment had been brutal, but these constant derisive remarks were much more undermining.

He poked his stew listlessly with his fork. His mother remained subdued and Draco felt another wave of wrath towards his father for the way he treated her. She was far too good for him. They both were. Draco made sure not to make eye contact with his father; if he did Lucius would use Legilimency and see Draco's traitorous thoughts.

"How was your afternoon with Miss Parkinson?"

Contrary to better judgment, Draco looked at his father in shock. Did Lucius really just encourage him to speak his mind?

He hesitated. "Thank you for asking, father. It was alright," he answered stiffly.

"She is quite…ah, besotted with you, is she not?"

Draco swallowed uncomfortably. "I suppose."

"Well then," his father said matter-of-factly, "I expect you to make yourselves official. I have already spoken to her father and he is in agreement."

Draco stared dumbly at his father. No. He opened his mouth but no sound came out.

"Come on, boy!" his father barked. "No wonder Severus had to take over for you if you're this slow on the uptake every time!"

That snapped Draco out of it. "I'm not marrying Pansy. She's a bloody psychotic wench!"

"You are. I expect you to give her a ring at your graduation ceremony next June. I will cover the expenses." Lucius seemed self-satisfied with his benevolence.

Draco stood up abruptly. "No. I am not committing myself to that woman. She's vulgar—she has no grace or charm or intellect—I'm sorry you have to hear this, mother, but all she does well is spread her legs!"

Narcissa was looking between them with wide, anxious eyes, desperately trying to think of a way to prevent further conflict.

Lucius sneered. "I'll grant you that—she is quite a treat in bed."

Draco took one look at his mother and lunged at Lucius. Narcissa let out a strangled cry, "NO!" but it was too late. Lucius whipped out his wand and Draco was suddenly thrown backward across the room. He crashed into the marble wall and slid slowly to the floor, dazed, with blood trickling from the back of his head.

Narcissa made a move to go to him, but Lucius stopped her. "Get out before your meddling gets you the same thing."

Hermione and Ginny woke up early the next morning and went to wake Ron and Harry. The heat was stifling even at seven in the morning, and the girls had been unable to sleep well because of it. The boys, on the other hand, were still fast asleep when Hermione and Ginny snuck into their room and doused them with cold water.

"Oi!"

"Bloody hell!"

Ron and Harry shot out of bed, completely disoriented, as Hermione and Ginny fell into hysterics.

"We'll get you back for that," Ron warned, wringing out his ginger hair.

"Just you wait," added Harry with an evil grin. "You'll be sorry."

"We had to get you out of bed somehow!" Ginny teased. "All you ever do is eat and sleep."

"It's summer, that's how it should be!"

Hermione smacked him on the arm. "Not for long, school starts next week. Didn't we say we're going to Diagon Alley today?"

"It's not just us—we're going with escorts, remember?" Ginny frowned.

"As if something could happen to us!" Ron exclaimed. "Knockturn is one thing, but Diagon Alley? Bloody hell."

The mood in the room darkened noticeably. All four of them felt the same indignation at being watched and followed so carefully.

Harry grimaced but said, "Let's get some breakfast first, I'm hungry."

An hour later they were at Flourish and Blotts, accompanied by Bill. Arthur had wanted to go as well but eventually gave in, conscious of the fact that they were thoroughly irritated already with the current arrangement. Hermione thought it could have been worse. Luckily, Bill understood their situation and diplomatically stayed out of their way.

The line of Hogwarts students at Flourish and Blotts was fairly long and they were forced to wait about half an hour until a store clerk could accommodate them.

Harry suggested they go to Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor to cool off (waiting in the heat at Flourish and Blotts was exhausting) and Ron, Hermione and Ginny happily agreed. Bill went away briefly away to run some errands, so they were left alone.

"This is getting to be unbearable," Ginny muttered as she watched her brother's retreating form.

"At least he's better than dad," Ron replied, spooning an enormous amount of praline ice cream into his mouth.

"I wish they would tell us what's going on, or if they're making any progress. How am I supposed to kill Voldemort when I don't know any of the Order's plans?" Harry distractedly ran a hand through his hair. "What's the point of being so secretive?"

"I don't know, but there isn't much we can do about it," Hermione reasoned. "We can do our own research at Hogwarts and try to get some information out of Fred and George, but in the end we just have to trust the Order's judgment."

"But it's so bloody frustrating!" Ron bit out angrily. "We've played a bigger role in this than all the other members combined, except Dumbledore. And no one will be able to lead the Order as well as he did."

"Hermione's right," Harry replied. "We do have to be patient. I can't stand the uncertainty either but we've got to live with it right now."

Ginny gripped his hand, and for a while they were silent as they all mulled over their own thoughts.

Draco woke up on the cold stone floor of the dining room feeling utterly disoriented. The room was enveloped in darkness and he couldn't see his hand in front of his face. He registered a dull, throbbing pain on the back of his head, and suddenly remembered how he had come to be there.

Cursing beneath his breath, he gingerly stood up and tested his legs' ability to bear his weight. Two fingers probed the painful spot behind his ear and he discovered he was still bleeding.

"Draco?"

It was his mother. She looked regal in her white dressing down and slippers, but Draco saw a frightening weariness in her eyes.

"I'm alright." He said it more brusquely than he meant to.

She sighed and lit her wand, then came towards him and checked his head. There was congealed blood on the collar of his shirt.

Draco stood tensely as she healed the cut with her wand and removed the bloodstain. He was afraid that if he succumbed to the comfort of her tender touch, he would break down altogether. That was, of course, not an option. He hoped she understood.

Narcissa put a hand on Draco's shoulder. "I didn't sign up for this, Draco. Not even in my imagination could I have thought your father capable of the things he has done. Please don't cause me the same grief he has. You can choose a different path."

Draco gritted his teeth. He wished his mother would understand. There was no other path. His life had already been planned out for him. He was to marry a pureblood, bear an heir to the Malfoy fortune and uphold his father's legacy. He already had the Dark Mark. There was no way out.

"I hope I will not be a disappointment to you the same way I am to him," he said. He expected her to say he would never be a disappointment to her, because he was her son and she loved him unconditionally.

Instead, Narcissa said, "I hope so, too."

She left him standing there and Draco pondered her words. His mother would be disappointed in him if ever he did something his father would be proud of, and vice versa. It was a catch-22. But he was a man, and that meant he had to act like one. His destiny had been chosen for him and his duty was to comply with it, even if it meant marrying Pansy Parkinson. He shuddered at the thought, and then remembered his father's words: "I'll grant you that—she is quite a treat in bed." So Pansy could add Lucius to her lists of conquests. The idea disgusted him. Probably, when he married her, she'd continue sleeping with his father just to have easier access to their vault at Gringotts. Get the money at its source. Draco laughed bitterly—Pansy was indeed a very conniving Slytherin.

Dim light was beginning to permeate the room, and Draco guessed it was nearing dawn. He walked up the grand staircase and continued through the first corridor on the right until he reached his bedroom. He undressed quickly down to his boxers and then noticed a there was a strange owl sleeping on his desk. He untied the letter attached to its leg and quickly scanned the contents.

He was surprised, to say the least. At least a hundred people were more qualified than he was. What about Potter, or even Weasley? Draco had tried to kill Dumbledore! After that he had assumed he'd be banned from Hogwarts permanently, or even be forced to live life indefinitely on the run from authorities. Mysteriously enough, though, the Dark Lord insisted that he continue going to Hogwarts to spy on Harry Potter, and even more mysteriously, Headmistress McGonagall had allowed him to return without penalties. And now, this?! His mind reeled. It was impossible! But there it was in his hand: a green and silver badge engraved with the words Draco Malfoy: Head Boy.

They finished their ice cream and decided to explore Diagon Alley a bit more before returning home. Bill hadn't returned so they decided to make their way towards Gringotts and see if they would bump into him on their way.

Diagon Alley was bustling with eager shoppers, and the spirit of the place didn't reflect the political turmoil that was overtaking British wizarding society. The threat still seemed intangible to most people, and as a result they remained unaffected for the time being. However, those who had been at Hogwarts to see Dumbledore's death and funeral knew better.

Harry and Ginny walked hand in hand, not talking much. She hadn't stood for any of his nonsense about letting go if they loved each other. Ginny thought that was completely irrational and ultimately managed to convince him of the same.

Hermione walked with Ron a few steps behind them, also rather subdued. Ron broke her silence.

"So, who d'you think is going to be Head Boy?"

"Good question," Hermione replied and thought for a moment. "Maybe Ernie? He's the most obvious choice."

"Yeah, or Blaise Zabini," Ron added.

Hermione grimaced. "I hope it's not a Slytherin. We have to share rooms!"

"I was only joking, there's no way he can be in Slytherin after what happened last year. The whole lot of them were in on it!"

Ginny turned around and interrupted. "There's Bill over there, let's go get him."

The four of them made their way through the crowded street to the base of the marble steps of Gringotts wizarding bank.

"Oi! Bill!"

Bill was talking animatedly to a young man with dreadlocks and waved that he'd come over in a couple minutes, so Hermione sat down on the steps to watch the passers-by. Ron, Harry and Ginny promptly joined her.

Suddenly, Hermione saw a white blond head diverge from the crowd and head in their direction. She nudged Ginny. "Malfoy."

Ginny narrowed her eyes in hatred. "He's got nerve, showing up in Diagon Alley on a day like this."

Harry and Ron noticed him too. "You've got to be kidding me. Mate, hold me back, otherwise I'm not going to be able to restrain myself."

Malfoy obviously hadn't seen them yet and walked pointedly towards Gringotts. Hermione noticed that he still walked with a distinctly haughty air, even after the summer's earlier events. It was a miracle he had been pardoned. She wondered if he would be returning to Hogwarts, and voiced this question to her friends.

Draco was on his way to Gringotts to withdraw the necessary sum of money needed to purchase Pansy the most ostentatious, gaudy engagement ring in all of England, when he heard someone say his name. He looked around and almost immediately noticed Potter, Granger, Weasley and his little sister sitting some twenty feet to his right, all staring daggers at him. He sighed inwardly—they were so confrontational! This was definitely not what he wanted to deal with right now, but they were asking for it.

He sauntered up to them and sneered, "What's wrong, Weasel, haven't got enough money to get in? Are you sightseeing instead?"

The idiot boy reddened and tried to jump up, but Potter held him back.

"Don't bother, Ron," Potter said, his voice laced with ice. "One day he'll get what he deserves."

Draco bristled at that. Potter knew nothing. Nothing at all. "Shut up, Potter. I'll be luckier than Dumbledore was."

Then, before he knew what was happening, he felt Granger's hand meet his left cheek with a resounding 'SLAP!' What a little bitch. He caught her wrist as she stepped away and squeezed it hard.

"Let her go!"

Harry and Ron both lunged at him but he held Hermione in their way. Before he released her, he whispered coldly in her ear. "You're next on the list, Mudblood." He realized she smelled faintly of lavender.

He pushed her roughly away and spun on his heel. "Good of you to chat," he said sarcastically before he entered the foyer and disappeared from their eyes.

Draco was riled up. That chit had the gall to slap him in front of so many onlookers, and had undoubtedly left a handprint. He felt his face redden even more at the thought. How dare she?! Still fuming, he walked up to a goblin and began his transaction. At least he was Head Boy. He would make their life hell.

Bill rushed down to where Harry, Ron and Ginny stood around Hermione. Draco Malfoy had just manhandled her and she looked a bit put out.

"Are you okay?" he asked with a frown.

"Yeah, fine. It's really no big deal," she answered. He was surprised to see so much hatred burning in her eyes. Harry, Ron and Ginny looked mad enough to kill.

"Did you see what he did to her?" Ron snarled. "That fucker!"

"Calm down, Ron," Bill said. "I saw it and it was appalling but there isn't much we can do. Let's go."

"I'm not just going to let him walk away!"

Hermione interjected, both her voice and expression void of any emotion. "Drop it, Ronald. Please."

"But—"

"Please."

Hermione began walking down the steps and threatened to disappear into the crowd if they didn't follow her, so of course they all did. No one said anything the rest of the way to the Burrow. Hermione was glad because that way she could think of all the various ways she could use her power as Head Girl to make life hell for Draco Malfoy.