The Head Girl of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry rapped three times on the office door of the Headmaster, and her foot tapped the floor impatiently as she waited to enter.
"Come in," came the light, airy voice of Professor Dumbledore. "What can I do for you Miss Granger?"
"Professor," Hermione's voice was commendably measured, considering the fiery rage that was currently licking the inside of her chest. "I won't burden you with my opinions concerning your choice of Head Boy, but I must implore you to please consider changing the current living accommodations of the Heads of the school!"
"Ah. When I chose Mr. Malfoy and yourself as Head Boy and Girl, I wondered which one of you I would be having this conversation with first!" said Dumbledore simply, seeming slightly amused.
As if Professor Dumbledore's statement had cued him, Draco Malfoy burst through the door without knocking. "Professor, I won't stand for this! Is this some sort of game to you? Punishment for my actions during the war? I've said I was sorry, I've come back to school, done everything you wanted! But this is mental! I won't live with that mud- oh, girl, habit- sorry!" he amended as Dumbledore pierced him with a harsh look. Draco opened his mouth to speak again, and Hermione could practically hear him say 'My father will hear about this!', but Draco shut his mouth again, obviously remembering that the threat was a bit outmoded these days.
Hermione let out an indignant cough, and Draco finally seemed to take in his surroundings. However, instead of looking mortified at the discovery of her presence, as Hermione thought that the pompous brat well should have, Draco seemed quite apathetic towards it. He simply said "Oh, hello, Granger," and inclined his head ever so slightly. His tone was cold, his action forced.
"Well I see you've beat me to it," Draco said conclusively. "So what are you going to do about this problem, Professor?" He asked, in the same spoiled, self-important manner that he had questioned Hagrid about going into the Forbidden Forest all those years ago.
"Oh, young Draco, I do not intend to do anything about what you refer to as a 'problem'." Dumbledore answered mysteriously.
"Excuse me sir," Hermione said, nonplussed. "But you say that as if you don't feel that Malfoy and I living in the same dorm will be a problem?"
Dumbledore smiled at the incredulous look on her face. "While I can see how your predicament could... ostensibly... be viewed as unfavorable, problematic, and possibly even slightly dangerous," his bright eyes twinkled at this, "I feel that your situation will prove to be quite the wonderful one indeed, in the long run, of course." He concluded, smiling in that unnerving way of his.
"Ostensibly? Wonderful?" Hermione sputtered shrilly. "You think this is good?"
"Yes, yes, my dear, I must say that I do." He said airily, dismissively.
"Well, that's just... preposterous!" Hermione fumed, and with that she turned on her heel, uttered a 'hmph', and stormed from the room, arms crossed tightly across her chest.
Draco looked at the Headmaster as if he were crazy, opened and closed his mouth a few times, and followed Hermione's indignant example.
As the door closed, Dumbledore smiled in a fond, knowing manner, and absently stroked the feathers of Fawkes the Phoenix, withdrawing his hand only to let the bird burst into flames.