Chapter One
The Meeting
The first thought that went through Hermione's head was: Am I in trouble?
She clutched the letter with shaking hands. Please meet me in my office at 7.00pm tonight. Professor McGonagall. Desperately she racked her brain, trying to think of anything she might have done wrong in the few weeks she'd been back at Hogwarts. Perhaps McGonagall had found out that she helped Ron write his most recent Transfiguration homework. No, no, it couldn't be that – she'd read up on the ancient Hogwarts rules on plagiarism and there was nothing that said you couldn't help people with their homework, as long as you didn't write it for them. Oh god, maybe it was something more serious – Professor McGonagall was her Head of House, after all. But what could she have done wrong? Everyone knew she was a perfect student. She went to all of her classes and more, and she handed in all of her homework on time and to an exceptional standard. What had she done wrong? Was she going to be expelled?
Hermione had found the letter on her bed at 6.40pm, but the twenty minutes she had to wait until the meeting were the longest of her life. She arrived outside McGonagall's office at 6.55pm – she made sure she was always punctual, of course – and proceeded to spend the remaining five minutes feeling as if she were going to be sick. She didn't think she could have been more afraid if Voldemort suddenly Apparated in front of her.
At 6.59pm, she knocked on the office door.
"Come in," came Professor McGonagall's voice from inside.
She opened the door. Professor McGonagall was sat at her desk, her silvery hair scraped back into its usual tight bun. She looked stern – but then again, McGonagall always looked stern. And, to Hermione's confusion, also sat at McGonagall's desk was none other than Draco Malfoy.
"Sit down, Granger," McGonagall said.
Oh god. Oh god. She should have known that Malfoy was involved in this. They hated each other. It would be just like that foul ferret to try and get her into trouble – some malicious lie, no doubt. Not a problem, of course – nothing some Veritaserum couldn't set straight. Unless… Oh god - unless he'd told Professor McGonagall about how she punched him in the face in third year. Hogwarts were very strict on violence. She'd have some points deducted from Gryffindor at the very least. But that happened years ago – why would Malfoy bring it up now? Perhaps…
"I have called you here to inform you that you have been selected as Head Girl, Granger," McGonagall said.
Oh.
Oh.
"Is everything alright, Granger?" McGonagall asked, a look of concern briefly passing over her stern features. "You look rather pale."
"Yes – no, I'm fine – well, more than fine of course, I'm delighted, thank you so much Professor, what an honour…"
"Good," McGonagall said, cutting her off. "Both of you were chosen because of your consistent and exceptional academic achievement, amongst other things. We have very high expectations of you in your fulfilment of this role, and we expect you to carry out your responsibilities with the same diligence you have shown your academic work."
She was Head Girl. Head Girl! She'd dreamed of this moment ever since she first received her Hogwarts letter. All of the anxiousness she had felt up until now was forgotten. She was in bliss. She couldn't wait to tell Harry and Ron and, more importantly, that bitch Pansy Parkinson who'd also been eyeing up the Head Girl position. The Gryffindors would be so proud of her…
Something was niggling in the periphery of her ecstasy, though. "Both of you…" Did Professor McGonagall say 'both of you'?
"Professor – so sorry to interrupt – did you say 'both of us'?"
Professor McGonagall looked at her sharply. "Why, yes, Granger, I did say both of you – both of you were chosen for your positions. You as Head Girl, that is, and Malfoy as Head Boy."
Malfoy was Head Boy. Head Boy…
"As I was saying," McGonagall continued, "you will have responsibilities. First and foremost, you will be responsible for managing the prefects. You will be expected to continue many of your prefect duties, such as patrolling the corridors at night…"
Professor McGonagall kept speaking but Hermione was hardly listening. Malfoy is Head Boy… The bliss she had felt at being chosen as Head Girl was vanishing like mist in sunlight.
"Of course, with your responsibility comes privilege," McGonagall said. "As well as the Prefects' Bathroom, you will have access to your very own Heads of Hogwarts bathroom. This bathroom functions as an en suite to your own Heads of Hogwarts bedrooms and common room, which I assure you will be significantly more spacious than your current accommodation. A House Elf will be sent tomorrow to transport your things from your current dormitories to your new chambers…"
Was McGonagall suggesting that… that she leave her friends in Gryffindor to live with Malfoy?
She was suddenly aware that Professor McGonagall was staring at her expectantly.
"You are dismissed," McGonagall repeated. "Unless you had any questions you wanted to ask me?"
Malfoy spoke for the first time. "No, thank you, Professor – I don't." His chair made a loud scraping noise as he stood up and tucked it under the desk.
Hermione mumbled something similar and left the room.
x
Hermione walked hurriedly away from McGonagall's office, trying to both contain the whirlwind of emotions she had experienced in the past ten minutes and get back to her dormitory as quick as she could before Malfoy too left the office, leaving her alone with him. It was a cold evening in October and the sky outside was already dark. Lit sconces in the shape of lions and winged serpents lined the stone walls and filled the corridor with warm, dim light. Her black, small-heeled shoes sent echoes throughout the corridor as she walked.
"Granger," came Malfoy's unmistakable voice from behind her.
She walked faster and pretended she hadn't heard him.
"Granger!" he called again, this time too loudly for her to ignore.
Reluctantly, Hermione stopped and turned to face him. She hated Malfoy, but she wasn't rude.
Malfoy sauntered towards her, his hands causally in the pockets of his robes with a smirk painted on his face. Instinctively Hermione took a few steps backwards and placed a hand gently over her robes until she could feel her wand underneath. It wasn't until he reached her that she realised how tall he had become since she'd seen him last year.
"You know," Malfoy said in an amused drawl, "where I come from, it's considered rude for a lady not to come when a man beckons her."
"Then let's be glad I'm not where you're from," Hermione retorted immediately.
Malfoy's smirk only grew. He took a step forwards. She took another step back.
"Well, you heard the old cat. We're going to be living together as of tomorrow, Granger – just you and me. No Potter and Weasel around to defend little Granger this time. I think it's going to be very fun, don't you, Granger?" His voice became menacingly low. "I bet you're very excited, aren't you?"
He took a step forwards. She took a step back and felt the hard stone wall behind her. He took another step forwards until his tall lean figure was almost pressed against her. Unable to step back any further, she scrabbled for her wand and pointed it at his sharp white jawline.
"Leave me alone, Malfoy," she warned quietly.
Malfoy was unfazed. He raised his eyebrows and looked at her with amusement. "Now, now, Granger, there's no need for violence," he said in the same threatening tone. "If we're going to be living together for the next year, I think it's only right that we try to be a little more civil to each other, don't you? Though I must warn you…" His voice fell to almost a whisper. His breath tickled her ear as he spoke. "I'm an only child, and since being at Hogwarts I've only shared a bathroom with other Slytherin boys. So you might have to prepare for the fact that I prefer to air-dry rather than use a towel."
Before Hermione could react he took a quick step back. He straightened his tie.
"Goodnight, Granger."
With that, Malfoy spun on his heel and marched away. And as if she had been cursed with a body-bind spell, all Hermione could do was stand and watch him leave.