A/N: Everything belongs to JKR!! R&R pleaseee!

Gentlemen,

You are hereby invited to

The Hunting Party.

500 galleon admission fee, if you are interested, meet two hours after curfew at the portrait of

Mordred the Malevolent.

Be discreet about your invitation.

The password is The Hunt has begun.

Looking forward to meeting you,

Joe Davenport - Hunting Master.

Harry looked at the worn out parchment in his hands and then up at the painting of Mordred the Malevolent, where he was told to be at the time.

He had tucked his Invisibility Cloak beneath his robes the minute he arrived and was now standing infront of the painting of Mordred, pondering his decision to enter.

The parchment had been handed to him by a stuttering first year from Ravenclaw, while he was practicing his loops at the Quidditch pitch.

He had returned to the castle with a confused expression, forgetting in his haste to change out of his Quidditch robes in the locker room and instead opted to go directly to the Common Room.

There he had sent Ron a glance before going up the stairs to the boys dormitories, noting that Hermione was absent, probably still in the library.

When upstairs he had locked the door soundly, before turning to a curious Ron and handing him the letter.

"I got this today…what is it?" Harry asked as he took his robes off and proceeded to change to a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

Ron didn't answer and Harry looked away from his pant buttoning and noted that his friend was red in the face, mouth agape and eyes wide.

"Ron?" he asked softly, coming closer to the redhead who was opening and closing his mouth, frantically searching for words.

"T-the hunting party…" Ron stuttered before promptly plopping down on the closest bed, which conveniently enough was his own.

"It's this…place where a few wizards get invited to the last week of their sixth year. I only know of two, three including you whom have been invited. Bill and Charlie were both in on it, Charlie used what he won to travel to Romania and set up a place to live…Bill lost 500 galleons and the girl he fell in love with." Ron began before scratching his head.

"The deal is, frankly put…a betting game, a girl in sixth year is randomly picked, I don't know how, and the boys compete for her, without her knowing it. The winner gets all of the money the others put in the pot and the girls…virginity."

Ron blushed furiously at his last word, licking his lips before starting up again.

"There is a hunt master who helps the others start up before he graduates, the boy who won the last round is the next party's master. It is a great honour and only boys who are deemed worthy are asked to arrive"

Here, Ron looked down at his feet, caressing the parchment with one finger, thinking of how he was once again bested by his best friend and brothers.

Harry as if feeling his friends' feelings took the parchment and tossed it in the rubbish bin.

"I'm not going, it's stupid and what if I knew the girl, I could never break anyone's heart like that!" he murmured, seating himself next to his friend.

Ron's head snapped up, eyes sparkling dangerously as he rose and stomped over to the rubbish bin, retracting the parchment and waving it infront of Harry's face.

"No. You are going, if only to look and if you want you will join, if not…" he paused and smiled "you can come back and tell me all about it!"

"Are you coming in or not, boy?" Mordred asked, impatiently tapping his cane against the corner of his portrait.

Mordred the Malevolent was wearing a black top hat, deep green robes and a silver cane with a heart shaped head in black matte stone.

His handsome face was surrounded by long black locks to his shoulders and a neatly trimmed moustache rested over his full lips. His eyes sparkled with well…malevolence, the icy blue orbs promising pain and pleasure combined.

Harry nodded to the wizard, deciding to do as his friend asked…only to look around and tell Ron all about it later.

"The Hunt has begun"

--

"Who are we waiting for?" Draco drawled, annoyed that he was forced to wait for the last boy as he twirled his wand between his fingers.

"Just one more, Malfoy, and then we can begin…if he doesn't arrive in two minutes we'll start without him" Joe Davenport of Ravenclaw stated.

Draco frowned, hating when others were late but nodded, knowing that the seventh year was in charge.

There were twelve other boys there besides himself, four from Ravenclaw, three from Hufflepuff and Slytherin and two from Gryffindor.

He had been told of The Hunting Party by his father, whom had attained his mother through the game.

Draco had also been told of his part in the game.

Every Malfoy son had attended, no exceptions and it was rumoured that a Malfoy had been the co creator of the Hunting Party.

Soon his musings were interrupted by the creaking of the portrait opening, letting The-Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Die through the opening.

He felt his lips form a sneer by instinct and he felt faintly pleased that even his body had learnt how to respond to Potter's arrival.

Said boy had a curious expression on his face until he noticed Draco, which caused his face to twist into a similar facial expression as the other boy.

"Malfoy" he greeted between clenched teeth.

"Scarhead" Draco replied, smirking inwardly at the other boy's furious glare.

"Now boys, none of that. Be seated and I will tell you why you are here" Davenport chastised before seating himself at the far end of the long mahogany table in the middle of the dark stone dungeon room.

Harry looked around him and noticed that Cormac McLaggen and Seamus Finnegan from his own house was there and hurried to seat himself next to the Irishman, politely greeting the bumbling troll McLaggen as he went.

There were three boys from each house, he noticed as he looked on the others seating themselves next to their own.

Kevin Bailey, Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein from Ravenclaw, seated to his right.

Malfoy, Zabini and Pucey from Slytherin next to them, and Zacharias Smith, Justin Finch- Fletchley and a boy he remembered being called Josh Kendall from Hufflepuff.

Davenport proceeded in telling them basically what Ron had told Harry earlier that evening, with some exceptions.

He was told that the girl was picked out of a hat, all virgin girls in sixth year would be inside the hat and Davenport would stick his hand inside and the name that came out would be what they would call from then on 'The Fox'.

The first one inside won, this statement of rules caused a couple of lusty leers and throaty chuckles from some of the boys.

If you wanted, you could add 50 galleons to get some inside info on the girl; likes, dislikes and such.

Nothing too personal, for it would give you too much of an advantage.

If the girl ended up being a personal friend to a player, the player was replaced, but the girl's place was firm, no switching.

No players were allowed to leave if they weren't satisfied with the girl; they had to give an oath to play, only exiting if they were close friends with the Fox.

And if one was to exit, you would not tell anyone-and especially not the fox- about the game.

After the fox had been chosen you were not allowed to make any kind of move towards her until the beginning of seventh year.

When the rules were cleared up Joe tapped the surface of the wooden table three times and a small crack appeared, the crack spread and opened, revealing a hollow inside of the table.

Joe inserted his hands in the hollow and gently extracted a familiar looking black top hat, flipping it upside down before taking a pouch out of his robes and shaking its contents into the hat.

Several pieces of parchment fell into the hat and Joe shook the hat so the parchments would mix thoroughly.

"Ready, gentlemen?" he intoned, not waiting for a response before putting his hand inside and picking up the first parchment that made contact with his fingers.

He unfolded the parchment, the others waiting with bated breath as he read the name.

"The Fox this year is…Hermione Granger, Gryffindor"

--

Hermione Granger was confused.

And being confused annoyed her greatly, since she was rarely so.

Two days ago both her best friends and a number of other fellow sixth years had been acting strangely; she noted also that all of them were of the male variety.

When she walked the halls she noted that those particular males seemed to stare at her.

She had no idea why and was rather frightened by the cause of their sudden attention.

None of them besides Harry and Ron had approached her to speak; they simply stared at her…eagerly, like hunting dogs watching the fox, waiting for it to run so the chase could begin.

Ron had this shocked expression flitting over his face everytime he set eyes on her, like he was surprised that she was there.

Harry had gone more silent than usual, guilt sometimes sparking in his eyes before leaving again and she was most certain that he was keeping a secret from her.

As she sat on a bench on the muggle side of Platform 9 ¾ waiting for her mother, she thought of these odd looks she received, becoming none the wiser as she pondered what the cause may be.

She had already said her goodbye's to her friends, the golden trio splitting up, but eager to see eachother soon again.

"Darling?" a soft voice called from the crowd bustling around on the platform, looking for their train.

She raised her head and smiled brightly when she saw her mother make her way towards her.

Hermione looked a lot like her mother, unruly chocolate curls, amber eyes and petite curvy figure. The only thing she inherited from her father was her love for books and fiery temper.

"Mum" she greeted and was instantly enveloped in her mother's lavender scented embrace.

--

When arriving to the Granger residence she had to bite her lip to stop from crying.

While she had been in Hogwarts her beloved father had passed away, leaving a nearly empty house and heartbroken wife and daughter behind.

She had only told her closest friends and the Weasley's, not being able to stand too many pitying looks being shot her way.

She had mourned for him for a month, curling up in her bed crying after placing a strong silencing charm upon her drapes.

After the month passed she threw herself desperately into work, knowing that her father's greatest wish was for her to succeed academically, but also socially.

She had never got to the social part, for people naturally stood away from know-it-all-bossy-bookworms like her; she only had a handful of friends, maybe even less than that.

This summer she was determined to do something about the social part of her life, wanting her last year to be filled with excitement, love, drama and all those stupid things that normal teenagers experienced.

Harry had defeated Voldemort last summer and all of the youths in the wizarding world let loose, the thoughts of impending war not weighing down their shoulders anymore.

She and Ron had obviously been there, sending their Avada's at the same time as Harry, hoping to put a stop to the madness.

And they did.

Hours after that she received an urgent letter from Dumbledore, telling her to come as fast as she could to Hogwarts.

She, thinking that he only wanted to congratulate her on their success, took her time walking to the Headmaster, smiling and greeting her friends and well wishers on the way, even stopping at the kitchens for an apple to go.

When she arrived, she was met by the sight of a grave headmaster, eyes no longer twinkling as he told the young witch the worst news she ever received.

She had not been able to meet her mother, the guilt of walking through Hogwarts so cheerily haunting her. She told her mother through owl that she needed a little time, but would be home for the summer.

Her mother seemed to understand, for she didn't press the matter more.

She stepped into the silent house, teeth clenched tightly to stop sobs from leaving her mouth.

Her mother walked slowly behind her, letting her daughter deal with her own grief.

The house was exactly as she remembered a big living room with the usual furniture, telly and occasional paintings and shelves. The whole house was coloured in whites, browns, beiges and greens, except her room, which was powder blue with white accents.

Next to a small fireplace rested a white rocking chair, in which she recalled her father seating in, smoking his cigars as he watched the fire.

She walked shakily to the rocking chair and collapsed on it, taking a deep breath before bursting into great heaving sobs.

--

She took a deep breath before knocking lightly on the white door infront of her.

The door opened and she looked shyly at the middle aged woman who stood there.

"Hermione?" she asked a surprised but happy expression on her face.

"Yes, Mrs. Holly" Hermione responded, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

"Is…is Lola here?" she asked, half hoping the respond to be negative, but also hoping it to be positive.

"She sure is! Come on in, Hermione. It's been such a long time since you came over" The older woman said, a small hint of disappointment in her voice.

"I'm sorry about that…I've been busy with school" Hermione said, not being entirely untrue, since she had been rather busy in the library lately.

Mrs. Holly hollered up the stairs that Lola had a friends visiting and to get her butt down here.

She was at the home of her formerly best friend, a muggle girl called Lola Holly, or Lolly Holly in some circles.

They had slipped apart from eachother when Hermione changed schools to Hogwarts, not really bothering to talk to her friend anymore.

Until fifth year she went every weekend during the summer to see her friend, determined not to let the friendship fade.

But when Sirius died and Harry became more dependant on her and the war escalated she had no time for Muggle friendships, spending most of her time at the Burrow of Grimmauld place.

Now, she hoped that her slight against her old friend would be forgotten in the light of Hermione needing help, and desperately.

For Hermione was, as earlier mentioned, determined to give her own social life at Hogwarts a push, but knew not where to start.

So, she bit the bullet and decided to go to the girliest girl she knew, that she trusted more than anything, and that wouldn't question her actions, or ask if she was in love with The-Boy-Who-Conquered or The-Weasley-Who-Helped-The-Boy-Conquer.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the patter of feet as Lola ran down the stairs.

"Mione?" she gasped, a wide grin spreading over her face.

"Lolly" Hermione greeted, smiling as her friend launched herself in her arms, babbling about how much she had missed her.

Hermione guessed that she was forgiven for her sins.

--

"Are you sure about this, Lolly?" she asked, twiddling with the waistline of her new low cut skin tight black jeans.

Her friend flicked her blonde bangs out of her green eyes, flashing a brilliant smile towards Hermione as she applied lip gloss to her lips.

"Of course I'm sure, you look smoking!" She smirked and pouted her lips to the mirror.

Hermione shrugged, looking herself in the mirror.

She sure looked different.

Her hair was tamed to sleek curls to her waist, her teeth shiny white and lips sparkling with a strawberry gloss.

Her feet were covered in knee high black leather stiletto boots and she was wearing a rather revealing red backless halterneck.

She had tucked her wand safely in her cleavage, the tip of the handle resting precisely beneath the edge of her shirt, waiting for her to pull it out and turn people to frogs.

Lolly had told her about a party that would reside in her friend's brother's girlfriend's sister's house and was certain that Hermione could try her new personality on the crowd that would surely arrive.

"Ok, your new life starts here!" Lolly giggled and batted her eyelashes exaggeratedly.

Hermione smiled, looking herself quickly in the mirror again before squaring her shoulders and turning to her friend.

"I'm ready"

--

Hermione stumbled drunkenly through the backdoor of her house, walking not so quietly through the kitchen and up the stairs to her room, where she closed the door with a snap.

The snap was much louder than intended and she giggled before shushing herself and giggling some more.

The night had gone by splendidly, her original awkwardness had been lost after a few Tequila shots and soon she was dancing on a table, gyrating left to right like nobody's business.

She had kissed a few boys whom she didn't know the name of, only faintly recognizing some faces from school when she was younger.

School was beginning soon and Hermione was squeezing every drop of her new experiences as a teenager.

--

Tap.

Tap.

A bush of curly chocolate curls moved upwards, half covered by powder blue covers.

"Whaa?" a faint mumble was heard from the bundle of cloth and curls and a nose peeked out, followed by half a face that scrunched up at the sudden contact with light.

Outside of her window a barn owl was tapping on her glass angrily, annoyed at being left outside and ignored for so long.

She rolled out of bead, groaning as her hangover made itself known and walked like a zombie to the window, pushing it open and letting the Hogwarts owl inside.

"Treats are there…now gimme" she growled and pointed to the owl treats in a bowl on her desk before taking the Hogwarts envelope from the owl's beak and breaking the seal.

She turned the envelope upside down and a shiny gold badge fell out into the palm of her hand, the letters HG emblazoned boldly on the surface.

A squeal left her parched lips and her hangover was momentarily forgotten as she ran down the stairs to the kitchen where her mother was making breakfast.

"I made Head Girl!" she shouted and jumped into her mothers arms, laughing and squealing at the same time as her mother chuckled in happiness.

When the hubbub died down and Hermione seated herself on a kitchen stool her mother turned her amber eyes on her daughter, all trace of laughter gone as she asked:

"Now, will the Head Girl explain what she was doing that was so important that she was unable to return home at a decent hour?"

--

.