Disclaimer: I only own the plot, all characters and settings belong to J.K. Rowling

(A/N: Hey, everyone! This is my very first fanfiction, so please feel free to tell me how I'm doing. Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 1 is mostly just flashbacks to set the story up)

Chapter 1 (Exposition)

"Malfoy! I'm going to kill you!"

Lounging clutters of Hogwarts students looked up towards the library in a moment of unity. The angry voice of their Head Girl, Hermione Granger, pierced the cold winter air. As impressive as her vocal projection should have been, it was quickly becoming the norm around school. Draco Malfoy, the Head Boy, was notorious for being able to annoy the daylights out of her.

"I swear if you don't stop poking me with the tip of that paper airplane, I will shred it and shove the pieces so far up your nostrils you'll be sneezing confetti for a week!" her shrill voice continued.

"You're practically a pro," came the answering drawl. "It must be easy to shove paper up my nose when you've got so much practice shoving that stick up your arse."

"I don't know what Professor McGonagall was thinking when she made you the Head Boy. You're the most egotistical, unfriendly, and lackadaisical person I've ever had the displeasure of meeting."

"Oh, what, and you're so much better? You're a dull, prissy little bookworm. No wonder the Weasel dumped you for that Lavender girl."

"That's it. I'm telling the Headmistress that we can't continue to be co-Heads. I hate working with you, being around you, I hate even thinking about you."

"Sorry that I take up so many of your thoughts, Granger. I can't help that females find me attractive. That is, if we can actually call you a female."

An exasperated scream could be heard throughout the entire castle.

Professor McGonagall's eyebrows seemed to have taken up permanent residence near her hairline. She looked disbelievingly at the two school leaders, surprised at the level of venom they glared at each other with. She felt a dull throb start near her temples.

"You two do realize that no Heads have ever threatened to quit before, do you?"

Hermione glared at the blond idiot currently examining his cuticles. "I hate to be such a bother, Professor, but is there anything you can do? If this continues, I think I'll be totally insane by the time the school year is over."

Draco glanced up from his nails and scoffed, "You mean you actually think you're in a sane state of mind? Oh, the delusion in this room is cloying."

Hermione took in a deep, fortifying breath. "Please. I'm begging you. Is there any way we can resign, or a way to replace one of us with a different candidate?"

"You two imbeciles do realize that you signed a magically binding contract at the start of the year that states that you will uphold your responsibilities until you graduate, correct?"

McGonagall turned in her seat and silently reprimanded the portrait behind her. Severus Snape's bored expression stared at her from the canvas. She silently wondered why she actually enlisted his help in running the school. She made him a co-Headmaster because she needed to share the duties that came with being the school's leader. She would have been able to handle it if that were her only job, but she was still teaching Transfiguration due to a shortage of applicants. The stern teacher began to regret her decision ever since the former Potions Master started making snide comments about her posture, her robes, even her grey hairs. She shook her head slightly and refocused her attention on the two students in front of her. She stifled a small snort of laughter and buried it with her trademark stern expression.

Hermione and Draco's eyes had grown wide as they realized that they were stuck with each other for the rest of the year. The horrified expressions on their faces were the first things they had in common since school started again.

After the two students had filed out dejectedly, McGonagall whirled around and accosted the portrait.

"You can't just call students 'imbeciles'! It's completely unprofessional, not to mention rude!"

"Are you denying that those two were anything but imbeciles? Just because they dislike each other doesn't mean they get the right to complain and try to quit. They signed a contract; they have to uphold it."

Professor McGonagall sighed. "With any other student, I would agree and tell them to try to work out their differences. However, Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger are no ordinary students."

Snape nodded. "You're absolutely right. Mr. Malfoy is of a much higher standard than Ms. Granger. To try and force him to interact with someone so much lower than he in intelligence and importance is quite demeaning."

"What?" McGonagall said, shocked. "I meant that Ms. Granger is one of the most hardworking students I've ever encountered. Mr. Malfoy's inherent laziness must drive the poor girl insane."

"We'll agree to disagree," Snape said, his facial expression pinched.

"I suppose so," McGonagall replied tersely.

A moment of silence stretched across the spacious office. Finally, the Headmistress slumped against the large chair's back and shrugged. "They're so stubborn and opinionated. They are both intelligent, cunning, and willing to work hard to achieve their passions and dreams. The two are more alike than what first meets the eye."

Snape conceded, seeing the point in her statement. "If they had a normal conversation for only ten minutes, I feel as if they would find they have a lot in common. It's unfortunate that they're both too strong-willed to allow that to happen."

"I don't know. Ms. Granger, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley weren't fond of each other at the start of their first year, but have grown to be inseparable. There's a possibility Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger's arguments could decrease until they're comfortable with each other."

"I'm not sure. Mr. Malfoy is set in his ways and quite proud. Not to mention Ms. Granger, who is argumentative, strong-willed, and unable to back down from a fight."

"Ah, the fights. They hold a lot of hatred, don't they?" McGonagall nodded.

"Hatred and passion often go hand-in-hand." Another pause ran through the room. Snape's lips suddenly quirked up into a wry smirk. "How long until you think they start dating?"

McGonagall sent a quick glare at the surly painting. "Severus, I cannot believe you. What makes you think that I would care about when or if the two Heads pursue a relationship?"

Snape merely lifted one eyebrow.

McGonagall's stern expression lifted into a grin. "Two months."

"I say sooner, like a month and two weeks. Care to make a wager? Loser has to… complete a dare of the winner's choosing."

"Really, Severus? Bets are so childish, so trivial."

She paused for a few seconds. The silence stretched through the joint office.

"You're on. Be prepared to suffer."

"Could you please stop?" Hermione snapped from the kitchen. "You could actually do your homework for a change."

Draco was sprawled on the couch, shooting sparks out of his wand and listening to the loud popping noises they made as they hit the ground. "Now what makes you think I don't do work? I did make Head Boy for a reason, you know. My scores are only behind yours by a few dozen."

"Then why don't you do any work?"

"I do. I just don't do as much as you. One can still get full marks on assignments if they don't write double the amount teachers assign. As long as all the necessary information is present, I don't need to do double the work. Unlike some people who need to write twice as much to get the same marks."

"I hate you."

"Likewise."

"You're a piece of trash."

"Back at you."

"Can you not think of anything to say back?" Hermione retorted.

"I could, but I don't want to waste my energy when I could just annoy you by turning your oh-so-clever quips back at you."

Hermione scoffed. "Sure, whatever you say."

Draco sat up. "Now what did you mean by that?" His gaze connected with hers from across the room.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You sound like you're just saying that because you can't come up with a better comeback. You're using your laziness as an excuse for your inability to win an argument." She smirked inwardly, knowing that Malfoy wouldn't like her implying he was inferior. His response did not disappoint.

"Excuse me? You really are quite full of it. Did you really think an insignificant little bug like you could ever beat me in a battle of wits? I have been quick-witted since I was born!"

"Based on your displays of maturity, I'd wager that was five years ago."

Draco's eyes widened in shock. How dare the little bookworm call him immature? Before he could say anything in retaliation, Hermione beat him to the punch.

"Aww, can little Draco think of nothing to say?" she teased, packing up her homework and shouldering her bag.

"Little? I'm nearly a head taller than you!" Draco said condescendingly.

"Right," Hermione drawled, "I was talking about… height," she finished in an uncanny imitation of him. She marched up to her room, grinning at the indignant shouts coming from the mouth of a certain blond Slytherin.

Hermione shut her door and dropped her bag on her bed with a muffled thud. Her victorious smile slowly dropped off her face and a red haze descended. How dare that egotistical little snot make fun of her? She hadn't done anything to him, but he had hated her from the first time he saw her. She fumed as she opened her scrolls and spread her textbooks on her desk. She tapped her quill against her parchment as she reconsidered her decision to return to Hogwarts. Malfoy simply drove her insane with anger.

(Flashback, Muggle London)

Hermione looked down at her Head Badge emotionlessly. She had wanted to be Head Girl since she arrived at Hogwarts when she was eleven, but now, after fighting a war, she just didn't feel that rush of elation she expected to. After seeing the cold, dead faces of her loved ones, she just couldn't muster enough feeling to feel happy.

Ron and Harry both decided to become Aurors after the war, but she decided that she wanted to finish her education. She wanted to finish her seventh year. She wanted to get a job based on skill and not on name. She wanted to be a normal student, and she wanted to be Head Girl.

Now if only she could convince herself that it was true.

She walked around her empty house aimlessly. She could still see her parents' touch on the smallest things: her mother's car keys hanging on the hook by the kitchen door, her father's fishing hat on the rack by the front entrance, their bed still unmade after a year. Hermione didn't have the heart to change it.

She was only seventeen years old; she wanted her parents to tell her it was all going to be okay, but after Muggles were under a Memory Charm for over six months, they would lose all previous memories and would only remember the altered ones. Her parents couldn't remember their daughter anymore, and it was all by her own hand. She knew it was a possibility, but she had dared to hope while on the run. That hope was completely gone now.

Hermione found herself wishing she had enough emotion for tears, but she didn't. She had only emptiness. She just felt…nothing. And she would hate herself for that, but she couldn't because hate was an emotion.

(End Flashback)

Downstairs, in the living room, Draco breathed a sigh of relief as he heard Hermione stomp upstairs and allowed a small, genuine smile to grace his lips. That was unbelievably fun. He considered his plan to make Hermione Granger feel emotion to be a success. He loved seeing her face heat up in anger. He loved seeing her small fists clenched. He loved seeing that fire behind her eyes.

He loved her.

(Flashback, Malfoy Manor)

Draco Malfoy rubbed his temples dejectedly. Lucius Malfoy glared at him from across the grand dining hall table as his mother elegantly sipped from her cup.

"Why do you not wish to have a betrothal engagement with Pansy Parkinson? Their family is wealthy, she is your age, she is a Slytherin, and perhaps most importantly, her family doesn't care that we were on the wrong side of the war.

"You, father," Draco repeated wearily. "You were on the wrong side of the war. I chose to fight on the side of the Light after that botched attempt on Dumbledore's life. Potter even came to my trial and verified that I was a spy for the Order."

Lucius sniffed disdainfully. "Yes, I am aware of that… situation, but it is unimportant. I don't care that you took down the Dark Lord's followers from within, I don't care that you passed along information, I wouldn't even care if you had shot an Avada at the Dark Lord himself. I care only that our vaults are much emptier now because of those fines the Order charged us with."

Draco took a deep fortifying breath and looked at his father. "You do realize that the only reason why those fines exist are because of the crimes you committed? You do realize that the only reason you are not sitting in Azkaban is because Potter owed me a favor? And you do realize that I cannot stand Pansy bloody Parkinson?" he finished, his voice rising in volume until the last question was nearly shouted.

Narcissa Malfoy set down her teacup and glared at her son. "Don't speak to your father with that tone! We both only want what is best for you and what is best for the Malfoy line!"

"There is no way I will marry that bitch when I already love someone els-"

Draco stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back. His eyes glared at his bewildered parents until, with the next blink of an eye, he had Apparated away, the angry pop still echoing in the room.

"For the love of Christ, Malfoy, stop showing up in my flat at the asscrack of dawn!" Harry Potter yelled from within his bedroom. "I gave you that key for emergencies, not so you could hide from your blasted daddy issues!"

Draco charged into his room anyway, startling a squeak out of the bleary-eyed Boy-Who-Lived-to-Piss-Him-Off. Harry drew the covers up in shock and fumbled on the nightstand for his glasses. Draco opened his mouth to rant before cutting himself off and throwing a smile to Mrs. Ginny Potter (who was watching her husband in amusement). "Hey, Gin. Sorry to barge in, but I need to talk to your squeaky spouse."

"Oh, no problem. I think your bromance is adorable," replied the redhead, re-burrowing under the covers. "Just have him back in an hour, that ought to be enough."

Draco smirked, grabbed the protesting Auror by the arm, and Apparated the two of them into a bustling breakfast restaurant in Hogsmeade. All chatter died away as the patrons realized that war-hero Harry Potter was standing in the entrance, red-faced and still wearing his striped pajamas. Draco grabbed two menus and sat down at an unoccupied table. He raised an eyebrow at the blushing Boy-Who-Lived and gestured to the empty seat across from him. "Potter, you do know how restaurants work, right? You sit down, look through the menu, order food?"

The volume increased after a flustered Harry feebly waved his hand towards the crowd before quickly plopping down across from Draco. "I hate you, Malfoy, have I told you that recently?" Draco shrugged carelessly and set down his menu. An eager waitress hurriedly asked the two men what she could do for them (coupled with intensely fluttering eyelashes in Draco's direction). Harry tried not to laugh as he ordered a coffee, and an uncomfortable Draco ordered the same. The young, attractive waitress pouted as Draco studiously avoided looking at her and snatched the menus before flouncing away.

Draco cleared his throat. "How's she doing?" he asked, his casual tone belied by his fidgeting hands.

Harry smiled innocently. "Who are you talking about?"

Draco dropped the act and glared from across the table. "Stop playing around, Potter. We both know who I'm talking about."

Harry's smile grew wider. "Ginny's doing great! We're very excited about the idea of becoming parents, but we decided to wait until our careers-"

"Fine, you win, Potter! Granger. How's Granger doing?"

All traces of amusement left Harry's face. "She's still moping around her parents' house. Every time Ron and I go over there, she says she's fine but I can see the dark circles under her eyes. They're about as deep as yours," he added, concern for his friends showing on his expressive face. "I can't remember the last time I saw her genuinely smile. I can't remember the last time I saw any real emotion, now that I think about it. She's just kind of… existing."

Draco sighed. He remembered all those fiery fights they had in their school years. He couldn't imagine Granger as an emotionless shell. He suddenly started as an idea began to formulate in his head. The same waitress set down their drinks loudly, looked at Harry hopefully, and walked away dejectedly as Harry shook his head politely.

Harry turned back to Draco as he picked up his cup and took a careful sip. "What did you just think of?"

Draco grinned. "Operation Granger," he replied. Harry waved his hand, asking Draco to elaborate. "We both know that Granger hates me. Hatred is an emotion! If I accept McGonagall's position of Head Boy this fall, I can get Granger out of her funk! Lord knows I'm exceptionally good at pissing her off. Granger will be forced to spend day after day with me. We have to sign a magically binding contract at the beginning of the year, meaning that she can't back out. I make her feel anger again, and you and Weasley spend time with her on Hogsmeade weekends so she can complain about me to you! It's perfect- anger will eventually lead to happiness again with your bloody Golden Trio positivity vibes. Before the end of the year, we can have Granger out of her emotionless state!"

Harry simply raised an eyebrow. "So this plan has nothing to do with your being in love with Hermione since the Yule Ball? Being able to live in the same quarters as her is not at all a reason why you want to accept the position?"

Draco flushed as Harry's lips quirked up into a smile. "I am not in love with her! I just want you to stop projecting your nauseatingly concerned feelings about her all over the place. It's sickening, really."

Harry sipped his coffee and said nothing.

"Whatever, Potter. Yes, or no?"