A/N: This is just a little one shot that I wrote to clear my mind and to trial a first person narrative. A more introverted Hermione, with a few issues and a dry sense of humour. :p


I want to get one thing straight.

Hermione Granger is not a bookworm. I mean, I, Hermione Granger, am not a bookworm.

I really am just naturally smart. What's it called? Ah yes, I have a photographic memory.

I have a habit of referring to myself in the third person, my mother especially thought it was strange growing up when I would tell her that, 'no, Hermione was not in her room, and would like to be left alone.' It never worked of course. Well, she still thinks it's strange, so I should probably not discuss it like it is a thing of the past.

It follows with; Hermione Granger no longer has a crush on Ron Weasley. After spending the summer with him, any feelings once harboured are long gone. Talk about chivalry being dead. Get a bunch of boys together in one room, and the female species become the object of much crude discussion.

Oh, and the toilet humour. Will that ever stop? This is the first chance I've had away from them. Hear that serenity? Bliss.

This leads me to my next point of correction.

I, Hermione Granger, am female. I know, this is not something I should have to draw attention to, but hanging around a bunch of guys during my adolescent years has had some lingering side effects.

Well, more than some.

I am sick of being one of the boys.

I really do like girly things. There are exceptions to the rule of course, like Witch Weekly, wearing lipstick, brooding over boys, and wearing jewellery - because things around my neck give me this feeling of suffocation.

Forget it.

Hermione Granger wants to be more girly. Although, I henceforth have no intention of entertaining silly and pointless crushes. Ugh! If hanging out with boys has had any influence, I want to just get some and move on. Who needs feelings? Look at where they got me with Ron.

Nowhere.

He still sees me as one of the boys.

Girly things I do like? Well, mascara, underwear - I am obsessed with buying underwear, checking out hot guys, baking cakes…kidding. Hmmm, I need some more filler.

If I were a man I would be a sleaze.

"Oi, Granger!" I must have been staring out the window as I hear the echo of an annoying voice. I turn my head to face the intruder, and my theory is realised.

Speak of the devil.

"I heard you, Malfoy," I glare at him, while checking him out at the same time. He is looking mighty fine this year. Too bad I hate him, those feelings getting in the way again.

"McGonagall wants to see us," he spits out, like the inclusive reference is causing him chest pain.

"Whatever," I stand up and walk out of the compartment, following him silently. More like following his arse. He might be a Slytherin son of a death eater, but hey, I can look right?

A very nice arse.

I don't see him stop, and in the next moment my head has hit his shoulder.

Shit.

He turns and looks at me like I have a special problem. Well at least he doesn't think I'm a bookworm. I merely shrug, not wishing to apologise to the likes of him.

Anyway, his shoulder got in the way of my nose.

Bastard.

He opens the compartment and I follow him in. Professor McGonagall is poised and austere. She looks up at us with her straight face.

It is so misleading.

"Hello Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy," she finally smiles. "I would like to congratulate you on your Head positions. I know you will both lead the school body through a successful year."

"Thanks, Professor," I reply. As if anyone else was going to get Head Girl? I bet Malfoy is thinking the same thing. I hear him mumble something akin to a 'thankyou' but I'm too busy playing with my head badge.

"Now, I will give you each a standard copy of the school rules, and your duties. You will meet with me fortnightly, and with the Prefects every other week. Here is the list of their names to assist you with delegating patrols times and projects." I take a copy to add it to the other pile of parchment in my hand.

"You are both privileged with your own dormitory so you will be in each others company constantly. I expect you both to act responsibly and respect each other as colleagues. Please see me after dinner and I will take you to your new rooms."

I nod, thinking of something about Malfoy that I could respect.

There it is again.

His arse.

I really am a sleaze. Just haven't acted on it yet.

"That will be all. I will see you both later."

"Thankyou, Professor," I turn and walk out before Malfoy. I don't want to be distracted by his arse anymore, it might cause me angina.

I head back to my compartment, plonk myself down in a very unladylike fashion, whilst scratching my hip where the tag of my shirt is causing an itch, and undo my tie. It is way too early for discomfort. I really wish I had my old jeans and a t-shirt on right now.

I hear the compartment door open again. Can't one be alone with her thoughts?

"What?" I exhale not looking at the intruder.

"Thought you might want some company." I turn to see Ginny, and suddenly feel guilty for my outburst. "I'm sick of hanging around the boys."

"Oh, yeah, sure." I encourage, smiling. She comes over and sits opposite me. At least one of us is oozing femininity, with her long wavy auburn hair. She pulls out her lip gloss and starts applying it. I watch her; she always overdoes it to the point of amusement. It is starting to pool there is so much there. If anyone tried to kiss her, they would get stuck. She laughs, I laugh too.

"No wonder you go through lip-gloss so quickly. Maybe you should just use a balm or something; it can't be good for you." She licks her lips a little to settle them. They are ridiculously shiny and pink and plump.

She hands it to me. I shake my head. I hate the feeling of gunk on my lips. Lip balm is sufficient for my purposes.

"C'mon, you never wear any. It'll look good." she dangles the tube in front of me in an attempt to entice me further.

What the hell.

I take it. She seems to do a little dance in her seat from the excitement. I roll my eyes as I apply it. It feels weird on my lips and I press them together. They almost stay in position, returning to their relaxed state very slowly.

"Ugh, how can you wear this, it's so gooey."

"It's looks good!"

"It tastes bad!" I keep pressing my lips together, now I can see the appeal.

"Stop that, it won't last."

"Who says I want it to?" I manage as I mould my lips together. She sends me a reprimanding look and takes it back from me.

The compartment door opens again.

What is with the interruptions?

Ginny reacts before I do. I can see her shooting death stares.

It's Malfoy.

He is staring at my lips strangely. I fight the urge to wipe them.

"What?" I let out.

"Don't you read, Granger?" He dangles the manual Professor McGonagall gave us. Mine is lying abandoned on the seat next to me.

"What about it, Malfoy."

"We need to meet with the Prefects, allocate which year level they have to baby-sit to the castle," his tone impatient and patronising.

"Fine," I give Ginny an apologetic look.

"Sorry to interrupt your kissing games Weasel," he taunts.

"Sod off, Malfoy," she retorts maliciously, crossing her arms and sitting back.

He scoffs and turns on his heel.

"I'll see ya later, Gin," I re-assure and head out after him, taking my manual with me and straightening my tie in the process. I am so annoyed with myself for getting distracted by lip-gloss, but can't help pursing my lips together as I stare at his arse, which is leading me to the back of the train.

He stops again suddenly yet I am so bloody daft, I find my nose colliding into his shoulder again. Its hurts like hell this time. Is that lip gloss on his jumper?

"Granger, what is your problem?" He turns and glares at me, rubbing his shoulder this time. As if that hurt!

"It's not my fault you jolt rather than slow down," I defend. Stupid distracting arse with its perfect roundness. I really was walking a little too close this time. I touch my nose delicately, relieved to find it intact.

There's that look again.

"Keep your distance, Granger. It's bad enough we have to share living quarters."

"It's a lot worse for me," I don't really know what I mean by that but I just shove past him to get on with it. The prefects are waiting in the back compartment, causing a raucous. Who named them Prefect?

No one even notices when I enter. Not even Ron.

"Hello!" I try to grab their attention.

One of the Hufflepuff prefects looks at me and shrugs. I want to scream a series of profanities.

Malfoy walks in behind me. I turn around, eyeing him expectantly to do something like a good Head boy; he smirks and leans against the door.

Did I mention he was a right bastard?

I walk over to Ron and shove him.

"Owww," he actually has the nerve to complain.

That's it. I've had enough.

I pull out my wand; hold it against my neck and my voice booms through the room.

"Oi!"

They all shield their ears, and look at me dumbstruck. Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini glare at me and keep talking. At least the others have shut-up.

I stare back at Malfoy, waiting for him to do something about his lot.

He walks over to her and kisses her on the lips. She squeals and hugs him.

Spew.

Pansy with her kissable lips has shut up.

Zabini turns away in distaste. At least he's on my wavelength.

He catches my eye, and smirks.

He then openly checks out Padma standing next to me. If he wasn't a pureblood Slytherin, he'd be a cad. But he gets away with it, and Padma is batting her eyelashes back at him like she's got something in her eye. Yes, I am secretly jealous.

Of Padma, naturally, but I'm also jealous of Blaise. He gets to be a sleaze. You know how I feel about that whole issue.

"So, why are we here Hermione?" Padma turns and asks me when she is done.

"Ask Malfoy," I indirectly delegate, too pre-occupied with my thoughts.

"Draco," she practically cooes, "Hermione would like to know why we are here?"

Bitch.

His arm is around Pansy's waist and they are both looking at me like I am some untamed beast. My hair must be a dead give away. I just flung it up and somehow wrapped an elastic around some of it. I can't even begin to describe its state. Apathy has washed over me like you wouldn't believe. I stare back at them blankly.

Despite everything, Malfoy is compelled to answer, now that Padma has asked so nicely. I inwardly laugh and the show goes on. Before I know it, everything has been sorted.

That was just a tease. As if I would let Malfoy take control! But I'll let him think he's holding the baton, for now.

Ron walks out with me, I am still pursing my lips together, but the lip-gloss has mostly absorbed. He is so much taller than me; I can remember when we were the same height.

"Do you want anything to eat?" he asks as the trolley approaches.

"No, you go ahead," I wait for him as he deliberates over purchases. I check out his arse, it's not as good as Malfoy's, but he has nice arms. He hands me a chocolate frog anyway.

It's the nicest thing he has done all summer. "Thanks."

"Harry's up the other end. Where are you and Ginny sitting?" I point in the direction as I bite into my chocolate.

"I'll come over a bit later," I say, with no intention of doing so. I just want me time. He shrugs and walks ahead sending me a wave from behind.

Some first years are fighting in the corridor. Reluctantly, I walk over and see what the problem is.

"Don't you have compartments to sit in?" I ask. A couple of boys are arguing about something I don't want to know about. They stop and look at me, their eyes suspicious. I point to my head badge to set them straight. Their eyes widen in horror.

How cute.

"Wow, are you the Head Girl?" the one on the right asks, his eyes lighting up. I nod, remembering how I felt about seeing the Head Girl in my first year. It's almost touching.

"I hate Gryffindor, I'm going to be in Slytherin!" the other one announces, crossing his arms defiantly.

"Yes, you probably are," I respond. I want to tousle his hair, just to annoy him.

"My dad says Slytherins are bad, is that true?" the first one turns to ask me.

"They are not!" the one with his arms crossed cuts in. Great, a bunch of first years and the house rivalry has already begun. I sigh with resignation and formulate my diplomatic response.

"Some Slytherins are bad, but your house doesn't determine if you are a good or bad person," I hear myself say, not believing a single word.

The questioner ponders my wise words while the other one is not convinced. He's definitely a Slytherin.

"The Head Boy is a Slytherin, so he must be good and smart," he concludes, looking at me for validation.

Again I want to tousle his hair and say, 'there, there, all will be realised in time,' but I respond, "I suppose he is then." They both walk away satisfied.

My work is done. I experience the satisfaction of a politician who has said nothing, but implied everything.

"So, you think I'm good and smart, Granger?" I freeze and prepare to glare as I turn to face the intruder.

Deny, deny, deny.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy," I retort. He is looking at me with vague intrigue.

I can't help glancing at his lips. You can tell he's had a make-out session, they are blood red. His mouth curls into a smirk and he leans against the corridor wall, blocking my path.

"Do you mind getting out of my way?" I purse my lips involuntarily this time, and place a hand on my hip to express my irritation. 'Implications are as good as admissions, Hermione,' I mentally reproach.

"There's just a little thing we have to clear up first, Granger," he states.

"And what would that be?" I snap.

He pushes off the hallway wall and opens the nearest compartment, gesturing me in. "Head business," he directs. I stare at him, irate and puzzled.

Suddenly I feel like a suspicious first year.

"C'mon, Granger," he demands.

"Fine," I huff and enter. He follows. I immediately turn around, not wanting my back to face him, for fear of unexpected hexes coming my way.

"Well?" I snap.

He is scrutinizing me. I start back at him, he is as tall as Ron, his body is leaner, but his shoulders are broader. Yes, I am openly checking out Malfoy again but this time I am being too obvious.

He smirks.

"Granger, if we are going to be working and living together, I can't have you carrying on like that?"

I am momentarily perplexed.

"What?" dismiss.

He takes a few steps closer. I'm thinking this might have something to do with my delegating of explanatory obligations? I shrug unable to come to a resolution mentally.

I focus back on him and realise he is mere inches from me. I take a few steps back involuntarily. Must keep a safe distance, and all.

He steps forward again. Oh, so it's a game? Count me out, I hate playing games.

"Malfoy, what is this about?" I command sternly. I am the Head girl after all.

"It's okay for me, Granger, you're not girly enough for my liking," he offers, staring at my hair.

Thanks for pointing out the obvious, but what the hell are you talking about?

"But, I can see you are going to have issues living with me, so let's get it all out of the way."

Huh? He steps forward again; I step back in synch but come to an undeniable halt as my foot hits something and my back hits the window.

"I'm doing you a favour, Granger," he says, and then his lips are on mine, and his hand is on the back of my neck holding me in place. My eyes widen in surprise as my hands hit the window behind me.

And then I realise, his eyes are closed. Malfoy is kissing me with his eyes closed.

That's all it takes, and I find myself responding, hesitantly at first, until he licks my bottom lip.

There goes my lip gloss. But, that unusual thought soon evaporates from my mind as his tongue makes its way into my mouth and I am pleasantly surprised.

My hand unglues itself from the cool window and comes up to his cheek. He reacts to the cold as I hear him inhale but he doesn't pull back.

There we are, Head Girl and Head Boy, Gryffindor and Slytherin, kissing. I am still not clear why such a full throttle approach has been taken here.

'Now arriving at Hogwarts,' blares through the overhead speaker.

He pulls away, letting go of his hold on my neck. I let my hand fall away.

"Later, Granger," is all he says, he winks and walks out, leaving me with my thoughts and my freshly kissed lips.

I am very jealous of Malfoy right now. I want to be a sleaze.


A/N: LOL! It could probably develop into something but I have two other stories to focus on for now.