Chapter One:

The Heads of Hogwarts

Hermione Granger yawned and rolled over on her bed. Her clock on the night table beside her read 10:30. It was the end of August, and the sun still shone brightly enough to wake her from her dreams. Her mother had obviously come in and opened up the shades so that Hermione wouldn't sleep too late. It was a habit of Hermione's to sleep as long as she possibly could during the summer. A warm breeze entered the room and danced through her brown hair; hair that was now sleek and straight. It fell to her shoulders, framing her face. The summer sun had brightened the sprinkling of freckles on her nose and cheeks, and had tanned her fair skin ever so slightly. With a sigh, she sat up and stretched. Her bare feet hit the wood floor as she made her way to the bathroom, grabbing clothes and her robe on the way. The steamy waters poured over her skin, and she closed her eyes in contentment. A song immediately entered her thoughts, and she hummed it, softly at first. After a few minutes, she had given up humming, and started singing like no one was listening. Of course it wouldn't have mattered to her if someone were. She wrung out her hair and wrapped it in a towel. When she was dressed and her hair was dried, she flounced down the stairs and sat down at the breakfast table. Her mother didn't look up from the eggs on the stove.

"Morning, Hermione. How do you want your eggs?"

"Sunny side up, please." Hermione grabbed the newspaper from the far side of the table and glanced at the headlines.

"You got mail, Hermione." Her father walked into the room, looking through a stack of envelopes. He slid it across the table to her, and she glanced at the envelope. Her name was engraved in scarlet letters, and the Hogwarts seal made her smile. She ripped open the letter and glanced at it. Her mouth dropped open.

Dear Hermione Granger:

We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to fulfill the duties of Head Girl in your seventh year. Congratulations on this incredible achievement! Also, we are pleased to announce that since the defeat of Voldemort, and the impeachment of Cornelius Fudge, Albus Dumbledore has been nominated to take the position of Minister of Magic. In celebration of this, a masquerade ball is going to be held in place of the usual banquet. Masked attire is required. We look forward to seeing you again. Enjoy the rest of your summer holiday!

Sincerely,

Professor Minerva McGonagall

Headmistress

Hermione gasped. Then her heart soared with happiness and a sense of accomplishment.

"What does it say, Mya?" Her father watched his daughter's reaction. Hermione stood up and hugged both of her parents, squealing with excitement.

"I've been named Head Girl for school this year!" She exclaimed, breathlessly. Her mother set down a plate of eggs at the table and smiled at her daughter.

"That's wonderful, honey! We're so proud of you!"

"I need to go shopping for a masquerade costume, as well." Hermione called out as she rushed up the stairs to write to Harry and Ron. After she sent her barn owl, Cedar, flying into the cloudless sky, she returned to the kitchen to eat her breakfast. The eggs were cool, but it didn't bother Hermione. Nothing could this morning.

"Get up, Draco!" Narcissa called out in a shrill voice. Draco groaned and pulled his pillow over his head. Narcissa used her wand to lift the pillow out of her son's hands. Draco cursed under his breath and slid further under the covers. Narcissa was standing in the doorway, holding an unfolded piece of parchment.

"What was so important that you had to arouse me from sleep at this ungodly hour?" Draco muttered, rubbing his eyes. Narcissa glared at the pile of sheets in the large queen sized bed that was her son.

"You got a letter from Hogwarts this morning." This caught Draco's attention. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"I see you've already read it." Draco looked pointedly at the unfolded paper. Narcissa ignored this comment and strode across the room.

"Put some clothes on and get downstairs. I'm taking you shopping." Draco froze in horror.

"Shopping?" He spit out the word as though it were poisoned. His mother merely sighed impatiently and left the room. Draco stared down at the parchment. His insides swelled with pride at the first sentence. Head Boy...that would have pleased my father. He read on about Dumbledore's nomination and the masquerade ball. He groaned. A masquerade ball? Reluctantly, he dressed and went downstairs. His mother was waiting for him in the foyer.

"Come on, Draco, we need to buy you a costume."

"I don't do costumes." Draco laughed shortly. His mother only frowned disapprovingly and took his arm.

"You're going to have to, Draco. It is important that Malfoy's always look good." Draco rolled his eyes as he leaned on the wall.

"That's stupid."

"Well, think about the bright side. You're Head Boy! Your father would be very pleased." Draco forced a smile. The death of his father was still a touchy spot of conversation, even though he had hated the man. His mother handed him his wand, and they both apparated to Knockturn Alley. His mother pulled him into a store he had never noticed before. It was filled with costumes and odd knick-knacks. His mother chatted with the storeowner, and Draco glanced around, hoping that no one he knew would see him. His mother's voice interrupted him.

"Come on, Draco. You need to be measured." Draco stared at his mother in horror.

"Measured? This has to be worse than being underdressed at a ball." An old man with gnarled hands gestured to a back room. Draco sighed and tried not to think of how degrading this was. The old man talked to himself about nonsense as he measured Draco's arms and legs. Then the man disappeared. When he reappeared, he was carrying three different parcels. All were large in size and heavy in weight. He winced as the man piled the packages in his arms.

"Come find me if they don't fit." He said in a raspy voice to Narcissa. She nodded and thanked the man.

"Well, Draco, let's go try these on." His mother pulled him into a changing room.

"Don't you think you've done enough?" Narcissa pursed her lips and took one of the bags from Draco.

"Open those two, Draco. The faster you do this, the faster we can leave." Draco rolled his eyes, but refrained from arguing. As soon as he saw the silver sequins on the costume, he pushed it away.

"Absolutely not! There is no way in hell a Malfoy would go this far to look good." Draco stared at the costume in disgust. His mother gathered it and held it up to him.

"I think it makes you look handsome."

"You're supposed to say that. You're my mother."

"I'm not lying to you because I'm your mother. Now at least try it on." Draco looked at his mother, attempting to stare her down. He ended up grabbing the bags from her and stalking into a changing stall. Silver sequins? No way.

The last thing Hermione packed into her trunk was her dress for the masquerade ball. It was positively beautiful, and it had taken her an entire week to find. She just hoped she hadn't gone overboard. The dress was red, sure to attract attention. It was floor length and made of several layers of heavy fabric, similar to dresses worn in the Middle Ages. The mask was gold with a long red feather, and adorned with sparkling rubies. She smiled as she reflected upon first seeing it. The red had caught her eye immediately, and when she saw the gold mask that went with it, she knew it was perfect. When she had tried it on and twirled around in circles, it swirled around her gracefully. The bodice fit snugly, and it had a low square cut top. The sleeves were long and the fabric fell down several inches away from her arm. The costume made her shiny, straight hair appear elegant. She took one last glance around her house, and then she got into her father's car. The houses and stores of London swept by in a blur as Hermione's parents drove her to the train station. After saying a brief good-bye, she passed through the wall to platform nine and three quarters. She spotted Harry and Ron immediately.

"Harry! Ron!" She called over to them, waving. They both looked at her, then exchanged puzzled glances. She rolled her eyes and walked over to them. "It's me you, gits!" Ron looked uncertain until he saw the books tucked under her arm and the gold Head Girl badge on her cloak.

"Hermione! You look..." Ron's eyes swept over her, making Hermione shift uncomfortably. "You look gorgeous." Hermione blushed furiously.

"Oh, Ron, stop it."

"No, he's right. You look absolutely beautiful!" Harry put in, glancing up and down her matured figure a few times. Hermione groaned. Boys will be boys. She picked up her trunk and lugged it to the train. After finding an empty compartment, she settled down to read the romance novel she had bought the day before. The title held intrigue (Forbidden Desire) for her, and the moment she read the summary, she knew she had to buy it. A more dangerous and passionate Romeo and Juliet. A tale of a man and woman, madly in love, and madly in denial. Knowing that a relationship between them would endanger their lives because of the man's father. The father, an abusive bastard, was against the woman so violently; it would mean death if he knew they were involved. The plot gave Hermione shivers, and she eagerly opened to the first page and began to read. Harry and Ron joined her, but didn't disturb her. She heard them only distantly, talking about Quidditch and such. The train lurched forward, jolting her back to reality. She marked her place and put the book away.

"So, how was your summer?" Hermione asked her friends. Both of them struggled to keep their eyes on her face as they stuttered and stumbled over their words.

"Well, uh-it was, uh, it was great. Yeah, a lot of fun." Hermione frowned at them.

"What is wrong with you two?" They stared back at her like they couldn't understand why she would even ask. "Forget it. I'm going to the bathroom. When I come back, you better have your hormones under control." She rolled her eyes and excused herself from the compartment. In the bathroom, she stared at her reflection. Her hair fell into her face, and she brushed it away from her amber eyes. Why do boys have to be so obnoxious? She sighed and left the bathroom. When she approached the compartment, she heard Ron's angry voice. She appeared in the door and stared at Ron, who was on the floor wearing a pink frilly dress. She choked back a laugh, and it came out sounding like a cough. Ron glared up at her.

"MALFOY, YOU'RE GOING TO SUFFER A FOUL AND UNDESIRABLE DEATH!" He bellowed. Hermione raised her wand and replaced the pink dress with Ron's clothes.

"Fine time to go to the bathroom, Hermione. We could have used you to curse that ferret into next week." Ron grumbled, resuming his seat. Hermione bit her lip to keep from smiling.

"You need the practice anyway. Apparently, you'll need a lot of it. Blocking a simple spell like that should have been easy." Hermione sat down and crossed her long, slim legs. Immediately she recognized it as a mistake. Two pairs of eyes went to her legs, and two mouths fell slightly open. Hermione picked up her wand.

"Occhinorum," She muttered.

"AUGH! I'VE GONE BLIND!" Ron exclaimed, waving his hand in front of his face.

"No, you prat. I've merely put a temporary spell on you both so you'll stop staring at me like I'm a monkey on display."

"You're sexier than a monkey." Ron muttered quietly. Hermione heard it nonetheless and blushed, thankful they couldn't notice.

"Aw, we were just being teenage boys, Hermione. There was nothing we could do to stop it." Harry blindly attempted to find a chocolate frog. He ended up instead grabbing the tail of a sleeping Crookshanks. The cat hissed and jumped down from the seat. Hermione knew that Harry was right, but she didn't want to return their vision just yet. It was entertaining enough to watch them flailing their arms about.

"True as that is, Harry, I just want you two to learn your lesson. A few more minutes in the dark should emphasize my point." Ron muttered something blasphemous under his breath, and Harry sighed, leaning back. Hermione returned to her reading, and would have forgotten Harry and Ron were still blind if Harry hadn't accidentally kicked her.

"Can we have our vision back yet?" Ron asked quickly when Hermione gasped from Harry's foot connecting with her shin. She rolled her eyes, but decided it would be best for everyone's health if they could see. A flick of her wand and a mutter of a counter curse, and Harry and Ron could see. They both blinked a few times, getting used to the light again.

"That's better. Sometimes I wish we were friends with Lavender. That girl can't even lift a wand." Ron grumbled. A romance between Lavender and Ron had gone sour, and he was still sore from it, apparently. Nevertheless, his comment had been correct. Lavender rarely picked up her wand outside of classes for fear she'd ruin her latest manicure, or some other preposterous reason such as that. Arousing laughter from Hermione and Harry seemed to help Ron forget the painful memories of Lavender.

"So, Head Girl, Hermione?" Harry grinned at her. "Who could have predicted that?"

"Everyone knew the minute we got to Hogwarts." Ron put in. Hermione blushed.

"There were plenty of other girls who could have filled this position."

"But you are the lucky girl who actually gets the position. Everyone knew you would." Hermione racked her brain, trying to think of something else to talk about so that she would stop blushing so much.

"So how about this masquerade ball? Did you two find costumes?" Ron narrowed his eyes and groaned out loud.

"Mum picked out the stupidest costume I have ever laid eyes upon. There were plenty of decent costumes, why in hell did she have to choose the one with "salmon" colored sequins?"

"Salmon...do mean to say that your costume is pink?" Hermione bit her lip in a sorry attempt to keep a straight face.

"I was showing it to Harry when Malfoy came in here. He seemed to think it was incredibly hilarious. Decided to make a little joke out of it, too."

"Well it can't be that bad, right?" Hermione glanced at Harry, who shook his head sadly. Ron slumped down in his seat.

"Maybe I can transfer to Beauxbatons."

"So what about you, Harry? Did you find a costume?"

"Yeah. It's dark blue and stuff. You'll have to wait and see it, because I can't describe it that well." Hermione smiled.

"You two are going to look so funny in costumes."

"Well what about you? What's your costume?" Ron demanded.

"It's a surprise."

Draco's cheeks were still slightly flushed from laughing so hard at Ron Weasley. The image of the red-haired boy in a frilly pink dress was hilarious. Draco's train compartment was empty; Crabbe and Goyle had gone to raid the snack trolley. Without moving his head, he shifted his eyes to look up at the sky through the window. The sun was sinking slowly, casting an orange hue across the grasslands and fields. Wisps of clouds tarnished the clear, blue sky, changing forms in the breeze. In the calmness of the moment, the image of Weasley in a pink dress came to mind once again. He almost laughed out loud at the thought. He wasn't sure if it was good or bad that Granger hadn't been in the compartment when he chose to enter. He could have had a good time cursing her into something that would actually shut up. Then again, she could whip his arse in a matter of seconds. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen Granger at all. Maybe she transferred schools or something. His spirits lifted a bit, and then they fell when Pansy Parkinson poked her head into the compartment. Draco realized that she would find the way he was sitting, rather lying, very suggestive. His hand propped up his head, and his body was sprawled out over the seats. He sat up very quickly as she entered.

"Hello Draco. I missed you over the summer." She purred. Draco winced as she sat down next to him. "I heard you've been named Head Boy." She fingered the gold badge on his cloak. Draco refused to reply. He did the best he could to keep his eyes void of emotion. Pansy pretended not to notice, and she continued.

"I wanted to congratulate you." Her face was so close to his, he could feel her warm breath on his neck. He stood up abruptly as Pansy leaned in for the kiss.

"Thank you, Pansy. It really is a great honor." He tried to sound bored, hoping she back down. Instead, this seemed to make her more determined to have him. She rose to her feet, and Draco felt suddenly trapped by her large body. Having nowhere else to go, he backed up to the wall. She advanced, ever so slowly, and it would have been arousing if it wasn't Pansy performing the action. Draco thanked whoever it was who had opened the compartment door at that moment. Pansy froze upon seeing Professor McGonagall.

"Sorry to interrupt, but might I have a word with Mister Malfoy, Miss Parkinson?" Pansy nodded and scurried away. Draco fought the temptation to hug McGonagall. Instead, he extended his hand.

"Good to see you, Professor McGonagall. What can I do for you?" He addressed her politely, which seemed to shock her for a moment.

"Well, Mister Malfoy, as you obviously know, you have been chosen as Head Boy. The first official Head Boy duty will be to attend to compartments one through one hundred nine. You will inform the students that they are to be dressed for the masquerade ball when they leave the train. They will report to the Great Hall as usual for the sorting process. After the sorting, the ball will officially begin. Be sure to tell them all of that."

"Yes, professor."

"The Head Girl is taking care of the rest of the compartments. Have a pleasant trip, Mister Malfoy." McGonagall turned to leave.

"Professor McGonagall!" She turned to look at him. "Who is the Head Girl?" A twinkle in her eyes made him nervous.

"You'll have to wait and find out for yourself, Mister Malfoy." A small smile crossed her face, and she left. Draco was alone in the compartment, left to mull over the possible candidates for Head Girl. Obviously, Granger was in the running, then again, she may have transferred. Draco dismissed that thought, knowing that the odds of her transferring were incredibly slim. His thoughts wandered to the masquerade ball. Dear lord, he'd actually have to wear that abomination of a costume. Silver sequins...they haunted him in his dreams. The costume was supposed to be some sort of white knight. Tons of fabric weighed him down, but the only part of the costume he found rather amusing was the hat. Old fashioned and pure white with a long white feather. The feather was what caused a smile to prick at the corners of his mouth. It was extremely long, and would probably poke anyone who came within a foot of him. It was big and fluffy, and could be used as an instrument of tickle torture. The mask was a simple silver face. No intricate designs or sequins...just the way he preferred it. A week ago, he was telling his mother he wouldn't be caught dead in the costume, but now, he figured it wouldn't be so bad. As long as no one knew it was him, it would be fine. He'd just keep his mask up the entire night, and not reveal his identity to anyone. He snorted, knowing that he could only keep that charade up for an hour, maybe less. Then a smirk played across his lips. At least people will be too busy laughing at Weasley to even notice he existed. With a sigh, he exited the compartment and walked down the corridors to the first compartment. He knocked politely before sticking his head in to tell the passengers about the costumes. He had gone ten compartments and discovered that this job was much more tedious than he would have liked. Some of the students questioned his authority and honesty.

"Why should we believe you?" An especially cheeky Ravenclaw boy demanded. Draco narrowed his eyes, bothered by the defiance.

"Because I am Head Boy." The boy was still not convinced.

"And my name is Professor Dumbledore, nice to meet you." Draco's temper flared.

"Listen here, you little third year twerp! If you're not in your costume when this train stops, you're going to have a nasty Gryffindor teacher up your arse. Think about it." Draco left the compartment, both laughing to himself and fuming at the same time. How dare a third year shrimp like him defy a full-grown seventh year Slytherin. He'll learn. At compartment eighty-seven, Draco froze. It was Pansy's compartment. Once he opened the door, he was dragged inside. Pansy flung him onto the seat and tried to kiss him. He moved his head just in time and wriggled out of her grasp. Her eyes were filled with wanting, and Draco actually started to get nervous. She lunged at him, and he ducked. She fell in heap to the ground. Draco stood over her and recited the speech he had given eighty-six compartments before this one. Then he left her there on the floor. At compartment one hundred nine, he gave his talk and walked out. He leaned against the wall and sighed. Head Boy was already proving to be a strenuous position. A flash of white to his left made him turn his head. A girl was walking down the corridor. A girl he didn't recognize. Her brown hair fell in a graceful sheet to meet her shoulders. Her white dress didn't quite reach her knees, revealing a good portion of her long, slender legs. Draco felt his mouth begin to water unintentionally. She was too far away for him to call after her, so he took one last sweeping glance up and down her body and left for his compartment. Crabbe and Goyle were stuffing their faces when Draco returned. They didn't even glance up when he entered. Draco sat down and began to think of who that girl was and why he hadn't noticed her before. She was probably a seventh year, either that or a very tall sixth year. And those legs...damn. Long, slender, shapely. Just the thought of her heated his blood. It was driving him insane trying to figure out her identity and the occasional dumb chortles from his companions made him even more frustrated. The massive train began to slow down, and Draco rose to his feet.

"I'm going to change into my costume. Don't blow anything up while I'm gone." Draco spoke to his friends as though they were small children. They were too dumb to realize they were being spoken down to. Inside the bathroom, Draco dressed in his costume. The fabric seemed just as heavy as it did when he had tried it on, and if it was possible, it seemed even heavier. He finished getting ready by putting on the hat he found so much amusement in. He tipped it down in the front slightly before leaving. He reentered his compartment to find it empty. Figuring that they must have gotten lost somewhere, Draco sprawled himself out on the seats to enjoy the rest of the trip. Fortunately, the image of the girl in the white dress came back into his mind. He closed his eyes, welcoming her into his thoughts, but opened them quickly when he realized something. She's going to be at the masquerade. A slow, deliberate smile dragged across his face.