A/N: Hey guys! I'm not really new to fan fiction, just new to publishing stuff here. =)
Disclaimer: I own nothing of this story except for the amazingly orchestrated plot.
Chapter One: Boyfriends and Boy-haters.
"Ronald, what are you doing?" Hermione Granger stood above her boyfriend with her hands on her little hips while he struggled to pack just minutes before the entire household was set to leave for Platform 9 ¾. He looked up at her through his mass of red hair, and grinned.
"Packing?" he said uncertainly. She rolled her eyes and tapped her foot impatiently, and he looked down at her sensible black shoe, unable to see the disapproval in her eye. He wanted desperately to laugh, but figured it would be unwise in the present company.
"Besides the fact that you told everyone you had packed yesterday," she said, "Are you a wizard or what?!" She raised her wand and everything Ron was trying to stuff unceremoniously into the trunk folded and stacked itself neatly and the trunk slammed shut with a resounding bang. Ron looked up at his girlfriend in adoration.
"What would I do without you, Hermione?" he asked, standing up straight.
"Undoubtedly fail out of Hogwarts, annoy your mother to no end, and miss the train?" she supplied helpfully. He threw his arm over her shoulder only for her to shrug it away.
"Thanks, Herm," he said. "You really know how to feed a man's ego."
Hermione levitated the trunk and bounced out the door. "I wasn't aware that was my job," she replied loftily.
He followed her down the narrow staircase to the Ministry-approved cars waiting in the drive. Harry was already there, talking to Ginny, whose face was the faintest shade of pink, leftover from her Quidditch sunburn. Fred and George had come to see them off, and had undoubtedly packed Harry's trunk with all sorts of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products. But, at the moment, they were kicking a rock between each other, irritating a small garden gnome watching them from his burrow. Harry excused himself politely from Ginny and took over the retrieval of Ron's trunk, stuffing it into the backseat of the car, where Hermione and Ginny had already placed theirs.
"Alright, guys, it's about time to get along," Mr. Weasley said, jogging to the front of the car. Ron, Hermione, and Harry all exchanged a slightly apprehensive look.
"Mr. Weasley," Harry said cautiously. "Can you drive?" Mr. Weasley looked back at Harry blankly, as if he had asked him where all Vanished objects went. Harry stared back for a moment, and then repeated himself. The reaction was much the same.
"The car, Mr. Weasley. Can you work it?" Hermione asked nicely.
"Oh, I imagine it shouldn't be a problem," he said breezily, and hopped into the front seat. Ron sniggered, and Ginny looked like she wanted to bail out the window. He stared at the ignition for a moment.
"You…turn it, Mr. Weasley," Hermione said. "Here, let me." She scooted out of her place next to Ron and took the driver's seat. Ron, Ginny, and Mr. Weasley looked on in fascination as she turned on the car and backed out of the driveway.
Ten minutes later, they were unloading their trunks at Kings Cross Station, and Ron was marveling over Hermione's driving skills.
"Ronald," she said, sounding exasperated. "It's just driving. It's really not that hard."
Harry grinned. "I somehow think Ron would find it challenging." Hermione laughed.
Ron tried to swing his arm around Hermione's shoulders, trying to show off to the rest of the seventh years that he had somehow managed to snag the smartest witch of the age. No one was taking any notice, especially since Hermione shrugged his arm away after leaving him be for only forty-five seconds.
They drug their trunks all the way to the back of the train, where they found an empty compartment. Hermione left Ron to wrestle with her luggage.
"I'll be back," she said. "Head's meeting."
Harry nodded. Ron ignored her, mostly because her trunk blocked his view of her face. "We'll be here," he said.
Hermione weaved her way between students all the way to the front of the train, her white sundress flapping around her knees softly as she went. She shook her now-tamed curls out of her eyes and opened the door, expecting to see Ernie Macmillan or Terry Boot or even Blaise Zambini. But instead, she found Draco Malfoy.
And unfortunately, let her eyes linger for a moment. Even the Golden Girl couldn't deny that he was good-looking. But she had always managed to play it off by not really seeing him. But now, she saw. And she understood.
He was slightly less pale than he usually was, she noticed. His skin no longer looked sickly, but healthy, glowing, and bright. His hair was the same platinum blonde it had always been, but it was no longer slicked back, but fell into his eyes in jagged little spikes. And his eyes.
They were a mixture of soft and hard. Hot and cold. Friendly and mean. They were a such a soft gray they bordered on blue, but the was his long eyelashes framed them and the way his slightly tanned skin made them lighter stuck to Hermione in a terrifying way.
"Who let you in?" he said scathingly. Well, there was the real Draco Malfoy.
"For your information, Mal-ferret," she spat. "I'm Head Girl. Why are you here?"
"For your information, Mudblood," he mimicked. "I'm Head Boy."
A/N: I know, slightly useless chapter, but it gets better. This is more like my exposition. Read and review!!!!