Disclaimer: Ohhhh! You think I own Harry Potter, do you? Just what are you on, and would you mind sharing? This disclaimer applies for the whole story, also, simply because I don't want to write it over and over again.
Chapter One
A Lovely Little Joke
"Move out of my way, Mudblood, or I'll move you myself," Draco Malfoy sneered through clenched teeth.
"Make me, Malfoy," Hermione sneered back just as evilly, blocking his path through the snow covering the Hogwarts grounds to the outdoor Care of Magical Creatures classroom.
"Watch your mouth, Granger," Draco said tersely, glaring at her with narrowed, silver eyes.
"What are you afraid of, Malfoy? Having to walk in the snow and getting your pretty little shoes wet?"
"Like I said, watch your mouth, Granger. These shoes are worth more than your house."
Hermione smirked at him, a very Draco Malfoy-ish smirk, and she stepped up very close to him. Draco was nearly a head taller than her, so he looked almost straight down into her unfaltering honey-colored eyes.
"Malfoy, I've had a rather trying day and don't feel like fighting, so I'm going to do the merciful thing and allow you to keep your precious shoes dry." With that, Hermione stepped to the side, but not without stomping heavily on Draco's foot—and his rather expensive shoe.
Draco Malfoy howled in pain and jerked around to wheel on Hermione, wand drawn. She stopped and turned to look at him, and then at his wand, her eyebrow raised in an attempt to appear merely curious, when in fact, she was rather quite fearful.
"Just what do you think you're going to do with that, Ferret?" she demanded, staring him down, arms crossed loosely against her chest. Draco narrowed his eyes at her again, infuriated that she doubted his ability to do anything to her.
They stood just like that, glaring at one another, for nearly five minutes. Finally, Hermione's cold gaze faded, and she shook her head.
"Look, Malfoy, I'm tired, and we're both about to be late for class, so if we could come to some sort of understanding before I freeze my ass off, I'd be permanently indebted to you." Her sarcastic remark only made Draco angrier, so he kept his wand focused on her.
"What exactly are you doing out here, anyway, you filthy little Mudblood? Helping Pottymouth with his research again? As Head Girl, you should know better than to go traipsing about when you should be in class," he said, knowing it would agitate her quite a lot that he'd suggested she was a lousy Head Girl.
His remark had the desired effect, he noticed happily.
Hermione approached him again, grabbing the tip of his wand with her left hand and directing it to press against her heart. Draco raised an eyebrow, mild shock present on his usually calm features. Hermione rose up onto her tiptoes and put her face directly next to his own; her eyes were level with his nose. If one thing that preparing for the war of all wars had done for her, it had prepared her for very dangerous things, and Draco Malfoy was one of those very dangerous things.
"And, as Head Boy, I should think you'd learn to appreciate the girl you're going to have to share your dorm with for the entire year." Hermione smiled evilly. "Of course, if you can't…" she turned and began to walk back up to the huge castle, "I wouldn't be surprised if you woke up one morning with some terrible STD. I do know how to curse people, Malfoy. I'm the brightest witch of my age. Keep that in mind." Draco held his wand on her until she slipped into the school, her threat still hanging in the air. He finally noticed, a few moments after he heard the doors to the castle close, that it had begun to snow again.
He was late for class.
"Damn that Mudblood!" he exclaimed, pocketing his wand and rushing down the rest of the pathway to Herbology III.
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"Hermione! You're late!" Ron whispered a little too loudly.
"I know, Ron. My, aren't we the observant one today?" Hermione sniffed, sitting down heavily in her seat in Advanced Charms. She pulled out a few pieces of parchment and her favorite, fluffy quill. Then, she sighed, and began rummaging furiously around inside her bag.
"What is it?" Ron asked, worried that he'd done something to anger her again.
"My ink bottle! I forgot it!" Hermione said exasperatedly.
Ron leaned over and nudged Harry, who was talking non-stop to Luna Lovegood. Harry made a "give me one second" gesture to her; she nodded and Harry turned to face Ron.
"What's wrong?" he asked, sounding somewhat annoyed.
"It's Hermione!" Ron said plainly, as though this was obvious. "She's late! And she's forgetting things!"
"She's…late?" Harry repeated, going pale; it seemed that was all he'd heard. "Ron…I…I thought I told you that if you went for it to use a Pregnancy Prevention charm!" Harry stared at Ron, his jaw lying in his lap.
"WHAT?" Ron shouted, suddenly understanding what Harry meant. "I did NOT have sex with Hermione!" The entire classroom full of students turned to stare at Ron and Hermione. She'd gone quite red in the face, dropped her quill, and looked at Ron as though she was about to gouge his eyes out with her little finger.
"Ron?" Hermione said, her jaw set. "Would you like to explain that little outburst to the entire class?" She said it as more of a statement, a demand, rather than as a question.
"I…uh…" Ron mumbled, his ears turning as red as his hair. Hermione kicked him hard in the leg and he sat bolt upright, his knee painfully banging against the underside of his desk. "Hermione's late, but it's not my fault, because I definitely wasn't having sex with her, so it's not my fault she's late!" Ron blurted out.
Hermione's mouth dropped open, and Harry's eyes grew as wide as saucers.
"RONALD WEASLEY!" Hermione screamed. Ron didn't seem to understand that his attempt at defending himself had only made things worse.
"Ron!" Harry hissed sideways to him, grabbing him by the shirt and practically choking him to death. "You just told the whole class that Hermione is late! Meaning, you bloody git, that she's pregnant!"
Ron's eyes grew wide with realization. He turned in his seat to stare at Hermione, along with everyone else in the room. Ron blinked. Hermione fumed. Ron's face contorted into a wide spectrum of emotions.
"She's…pregnant?" Ron asked Harry, his voice low. Harry gasped and tried to grab Ron's arm.
"No—that's not it!" But Harry was too late. Suddenly, Ron stood up, towering over Hermione, his face red with anger.
"AND WHO, MAY I ASK, IS THE FATHER?"
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"Hermione! Come out of there, Hermione. Just tell me what happened. It can't have been that bad!" said Ginny Weasley, Hermione's red-haired best friend and Ron's little sister. She was standing outside the Heads' bathroom, leaning against the door, knocking, and trying to see if she could hear anything.
Hermione sobbed loudly, and Ginny heard something break.
"I don't want to talk about it, Ginny!" Hermione choked, just before Ginny heard more objects shattering within the bathroom.
"Just tell me what's wrong! Do I have to break out the ass-kicking stick?" Ginny demanded, pleading evident in her voice.
"Yes!" Hermione's voice said, the tone suddenly changing from angry to enlightened.
"Whose ass needs kicking, then?" Ginny asked, rubbing her temples.
"Your idiot brother's!" Hermione screeched back, suddenly very angry-sounding again.
"What did the prat do this time?" Ginny asked, sinking to her knees and preparing herself for a very, very long explanation of the stupidity of Ron.
About an hour later, after Hermione had told Ginny every little horrific detail through the bathroom door about her earlier class with Ron, Ginny sighed in aggravation.
"And, as if that wasn't enough," Hermione said dejectedly through the door, "Malfoy had to go and be himself again today! Before the whole Ron thing even happened! And it's only the second day of school, Ginny! It's my last year, and I made Head Girl, and I just wanted to bask in it for a little while! But no! I have to share my whole damn dorm with Draco Malfoy all year long, because some idiot named him Head Boy!"
"That 'idiot' you are referring to just happens to be Dumbledore, Hermione, and he just so happens to be standing right beside me."
A short silence answered Ginny's remark. Then, the door was unlocked and Hermione opened it, red and blotchy in the face. She looked from left to right, up and down the hallway, for signs of Dumbledore. Seeing none, her eyes settled on Ginny—who was pushing the door in, taking her chance.
Once Ginny had shoved Hermione back inside the bathroom and locked the door behind them, she smiled triumphantly at her depressed, outraged friend.
"You tricked me!" Hermione exclaimed, shocked. "You…you…"
Ginny put up a hand to stop Hermione just before she threw her arms around her in a warm embrace. Hermione stiffened for a moment, just before giving up and wrapping her own arms around Ginny. Hermione sobbed into the younger girl's shoulder, her tears dampening Ginny's maroon sweater (courtesy of her mother) and neck.
Ginny patted Hermione's back gently until it seemed she'd cried all she could. Then, slowly, Ginny lead Hermione to the comfortable-looking padded bench in the corner of the enormous bathroom. Ginny noticed uneasily that broken statues (large pieces of which seemed to resemble parts of Ron's head…) lay strewn across the floor in mass amounts. Reaching the bench, they both sat down in silence for a few minutes.
"Bloody hell. This bathroom is enormous!" Ginny said, taking in the high ceiling, the sink with several faucets, the bathtub big enough to fit a troll or two in, and the glistening countertops of the lighted vanity. Hermione merely nodded; it was a throw-away gesture, obviously pointing out the fact that her mind was concerned with other things. Ginny noticed and thought a moment about something that could make Hermione feel better.
Suddenly, being one of the Weasley children came in handy. She'd learned quite a few things from mischievous Fred and George, her older brothers. Those two twins had never wasted an opportunity to test a new joke product on their younger sister, and her knowledge of their vast collection of rather interesting pranks came proved useful many a time.
"Hermione!" Ginny blurted, smiling widely. Hermione stared at her as though an enormous, glowing light bulb had popped up over Ginny's head. "Name the person you hate more than anyone else in the world!"
"'Hate' is a very strong word Ginny. I don't use that word," Hermione sniffed, folding her hands in her lap.
"Well…think of someone you despise more than anyone else, then," Ginny said, standing up and beginning to pace across the whole expanse of the tiled bathroom floor. It wasn't two seconds before Hermione had an answer.
"Draco Malfoy!" Hermione spat, as though the name burned her tongue.
"Wonderful!" Ginny said, giddy with excitement.
"How…is that…wonderful?" Hermione asked, her curiosity temporarily making her forget about her previous misery.
"Just listen!" Ginny said, ceasing to pace and standing directly in front of Hermione. "What's the one thing Malfoy can boast about having that no one else in the whole of Hogwarts can?"
Hermione thought a moment.
"Having slept with every girl in Hogwarts?"
"Right!" Ginny said, becoming even more excited. "He's slept with everyone. Except…?"
"…me?" Hermione said meekly, already not liking where this was going.
"Exactly! And what does Malfoy hate more than anything else?" Ginny prompted, beginning to pace again, ideas bouncing back and forth within her pretty red head.
"Me?" Hermione suggested, sinking back into her pit of self-loathing.
"No! Well, maybe…but I was thinking more along the lines of being denied something…because he always gets his way!" Ginny said. Hermione made an "oh…that's right" expression and nodded in agreement.
"That's true. Selfish prat gets everything he wants, whenever he wants…" Hermione mumbled, staring at the tiles on the floor beneath her feet.
"And, taking that into consideration…what would be the perfect prank to play on Malfoy?" Ginny asked. Hermione raised an eyebrow, trying to look uninterested. Ginny knew her friend well, though, and so she knew that Hermione was extremely curious. "We dangle something in front of him…something he thinks will be easy to get…and then," Ginny said, making a snatching gesture in the air above her head, "we snatch it away from him!"
Hermione's face lit up gleefully.
"Oh! That's a marvelous idea, Ginny! And he'll be so angry about it, he won't know what hit him! He'll finally get a taste of his own medicine!" Hermione screamed happily, jumping off the bench to hug her friend. Ginny hugged Hermione back warmly; she was brimming over with excitement.
"There's just…one thing I want to know," Hermione said, separating herself from Ginny. "What exactly are we 'dangling' so precariously before his snotty nose, just before we snatch it away so cruelly?" Hermione asked, not sounding one bit bothered by the idea of committing a malicious act against Draco Malfoy.
Ginny smiled widely, her perfectly straight teeth clearly visible. Hermione did not like the expression on the redhead's face at all.
Ginny reached toward Hermione and turned her entire body, grabbed her by the arms and steered her toward the full-length mirror on the far wall of the bathroom. Hermione looked into it and saw a very pretty redheaded girl—and a very not pretty bushy-haired girl with blotchy skin—staring back at her. But Ginny was still smiling.
"We, my dear friend, have the only object in our possession that would ever refuse Draco Malfoy. The shock will be so riveting that he'll be reeling from it when he's a decrepit old fart with no wife and no hair," Ginny said, holding Hermione steadfast in front of the mirror.
"And…what 'object' might that be?" Hermione asked, gulping.
Ginny smiled again, looking more devilish than Fred or George ever had.
"You."