Disclaimer:Hello, I am J.K.Rowling. NOT. Sorry, you'll have to put up with my mischaracterizations of Draco and Hermione. They don't really end up together, but writing them that way is oh so fun.

Things I Hope My Daughter Never Has To Put Up With

Chapter 1.

If asked to compose a list of words to describe Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger would very willingly have obliged. The list would include such words as 'antagonistic, 'arrogant', 'barmy', 'bears resemblance to a ferret', 'despicable', as well as a rather impressive collection of obscenities. Hermione, being Hermione, would not have limited the list to English, either. She would have included Spanish, Italian, French, and German, and very well may have thrown in some languages such as Troll and Mermish. At the bottom of her list, it is possible that she may have concluded with the following note: This all boils down to one thing-Pain In My Arse! There is no guarantee that in her excitement to prove this point Hermione wouldn't set the parchment on fire. That is how far her dislike for the Malfoy boy went.

Draco Malfoy walked into the Heads Common Room.

Shirtless.

Seeing the Head Girl hastily scribbling on a piece of parchment he smirked and crept up behind her. As he saw what she was writing, he chuckled, but, upon reading further became rather annoyed. Not that he was about to tell her. "What the bloody hell are you writing, Granger?" he sneered. "Are you-you are! You're writing about yourself! In third person! Either you're unhealthily full of yourself or you're completely off your rocker. Personally, I think it's a little bit of both."

Hermione turned scarlet, being a true Gryffindor. She was so loyal to her house that it was a mercy she hadn't been sorted into Slytherin, because she didn't think she'd fancy turning green. Red, at least, was a perfectly acceptable color to turn. "For your information, Malfoy," she said, attempting to fight down the blush, "It's for an essay contest."

"Come again?"

She sighed. "I really don't think it's any of your business."

"Well," Draco peered at the 'essay', "Considering you are referring to me as 'arrogant' and seem to believe I 'bear a resemblance to a ferret', I believe it is my business."

"Fine. But if I tell you, you have to promise to go pollute the air elsewhere." Draco opened his mouth to retaliate but merely nodded as he saw Hermione glaring at him. "It's for an essay contest sponsored by Witch Weekly called "Things I Hope My Daughter Never Has To Put Up With". It's for the special Mother's Day edition."

His eyes widened, "Granger, are you telling me you're pregnant? How much did you have to pay someone to sleep with you?"
She fixed him with a withering stare that was nearly as good as a hex. "First of all, no I'm not, and second of all, not all men are whores like you, and third of all, first prize is a thousand galleons."

Draco, being Draco, ignored Hermione's first and third statements and focused on the second, "Yeah, well, if I was a man whore, which I'm not, at least I'd be a well-paid whore."

Hermione snorted. "Good comeback."

In an attempt to maintain his dignity, he merely said, "Thank you," and sauntered off to his room where he (sadly) put on a shirt. The absence of Malfoy's shirt did not go unnoticed by Hermione who, after Draco was safely removed from the room, continued her essay.

Unfortunately, Hermione Granger being a very hormonal teenager could not help but notice Mr.Malfoy's well defined abdomen. Being forced to live in such near proximity to him, she was often subjected to his partial nudity. While she may have found him devilishly attractive, she frequently reminded himself that it was very likely Draco Malfoy was The Devil Incarnate which just goes to show that appearances aren't everything.

Nibbling on her quill, Hermione decided that that last part may have been a little too much information for the editors of Witch Weekly. In fact, it may have been too much information for herself, and so she hastily scribbled it out.

Just in time, too, for at the same time Miss Granger was destroying all evidence of what Mr.Malfoy looked like while less than fully clothed, the male in question reentered the room, this time with his torso covered.

"Oy, Granger," he called.

Hermione turned in exasperation and made no comment but her expression clearly read, What do you want Malfoy, and make it snappy.

Why wouldn't he stop smirking?! Someone should come up with a potion that prevents people from smirking. Hermione mentally added that to her to-do list, in between 'Destroy Voldemort' and 'Find A Solution To End World Hunger'. "Granger, I've decided to help you with your essay, good soul that I am. And, as it's about me (which is quite flattering in a twisted way), I'd like to make sure my character isn't misrepresented in any way."

Hermione could do nothing but gaze at the boy in mute horror as he continued; "First of all, I believe you should include in your essay, that I am devastingly handsome and fabulously wealthy."

"Malfoy, in regards to your first point, stay away from the firewhiskey. I hear that large amounts of alcohol tend to cause halluncinations." Oh, what a liar you are, Hermione. Now I'm really going to bring him down! "And as for your second point, I would change the adjective to 'disgustingly', bearing in mind that your fortune comes from exploiting others, like those poor house elves."

"And I suppose you'd free all of them, would you?"

"Why of course," replied Hermione, sitting up rather haughtily. "It's the humane thing to do, after all."

"They're not human."

"Yes, well, neither are you."

'Ooh. There's a good one,' Hermione silently congratulated herself.

"Yes, well...I once saw a flea-bitten stray dog with hair like yours,"retorted Malfoy.

'He's so sexy, when he's trying to insult me', thought Hermione. "Really? Are we talking about one of your girlfriends?"

"Oh, you mean your mum?"

That did it. Hermione raised her fist to sock it to that bastard but good. Malfoy, quite unfortunately (or was it?) caught her wrist in his rather strong hand.

Hermione gasped.

"Oh, don't even tell me that hurt, you big baby. And in trying to hit me you proved something I've long suspected."

"And what's that, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, mustering up a scathing tone. "That your afraid of getting hit by a girl?"

"No. That you have no class."

"And what would you prefer, I did? Act as one of your 'well-bred' society girls? Do you want me to do this?" And Hermione (rather vixenishly) tugged free her hand and gently wrapped it around the back of Malfoy's neck. "Shall I call you darling? Do you want me to hold you, carress you, kiss you, and then shag you all night long, leave my knickers in your bed and never see you again? Is that class?"

Draco was dumbstruck. He didn't know what to do. Should he play along with this charade? Those lips were looking rather tantalizing.

"You're wrong on one point, Granger."

"And what would that be, love,?" she asked poisonously.

Drawing her close, he whispered in her ear, "If you wewere to make love-and notice I said make love not shag which is a rather vulgar word-you wouldn't never see me again. You'd keep coming back for more."

Hermione felt a bit tarty, but she allowed herself to press in closer to her co-head and said, "Well, it's too bad I have no class, Malfoy." She looked him straight in the eye and slowly ran her tongue over her upper lip. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an essay to write."

She slowly-very slowly-pulled herself away from him making sure to rub all the right parts of her anatomy against his chest, and sauntered off to her room, sashaying her hips and smirking the whole way.

A/N: I'm planning on making this a two shot, with the next chapter being from Draco's point of view. Tell me what you think, my beloved readers!