Hey! This is my very first fanfiction, so I'm a little tentative. Please review, and give me all the constructive criticism you have. Thanks a lot! It'll swap between Hermione's and Draco's POV throughout, just to let you know.
Disclaimer – This is gonna apply for the whole of the story. If I owned the Harry Potter series, or anything to do with the series, which I do not, I wouldn't be sitting here writing fanfiction…
Chapter 1 – Draco's POV
Draco walked through the corridors of Hogwarts school, a smirk on his face, headed to the Great Hall. It was his sixth year at the magical school, and he was in his prime. He was known as one of the 'Sex Gods of Slytherin', along with his best friend Blaise Zabini. He'd slept with nearly half the girls from the 5th year upwards, and his reputation preceded him. As he strolled through the deep red and meticulously ornamented passages, he was met by flirtatious smiles and yearning faces, which he often returned with a wink or winning smile.
He stepped into the bustling Great Hall, and made his way to the Slytherin table, where he was greeted by his friends and admirers. "Alright mate?" Blaise asked, scooping cereal into his mouth as Draco sat himself next to him. Draco nodded and browsed the overflowing plates and dished, and began to load his plate with toast, before buttering it, and adding raspberry jam. "We've got potions first, have you done that essay?" Draco nodded again, his mouth full. Swallowing, he sneered as the Golden Trio entered the hall, all prim and proper in their neatly ironed Gryffindor robes.
"I see that Weasel hasn't got into Granger's pants yet," he smirked, noting the way that they were stood either side of Potter, with Weasley occasionally glancing at Granger nervously, before looking away. They sat, and Potter was immediately surrounded by a group of eager Gryffindors. Blaise made a disgusted noise.
"I can't stand the way they all fawn over him. I mean, it's fine when people admire us, because we're hot and good in bed, but with Potter, it's just…because he's famous." Draco nodded in agreement, and returned to his toast.
"Draaaaaco," an irritating whine penetrated his ears, and he winced. The owner of the voice was one that he had not slept with, and was determined not to, even if they were betrothed – Draco shivered at the word, and turned to look at Pansy Parkinson, the plump, greasy haired, spotty girl that he was destined to marry for the sake of a pure blood status.
"Yes Pansy?" he sighed, as she shuffled down the bench towards him, so that their thighs were touching.
"You left the common room before I could come with you to breakfast," she whined again, attempting to pout, but ending up looking like a duck.
"Oh…sorry." Draco feigned an apologetic tone and turned away, finishing his first slice of toast. He noticed Blaise hurriedly finishing his cereal, so that he could escape the ear-piercing tones of Parkinson's voice. Draco followed suit, picking up his second piece of toast, and standing up. "Sorry Pansy, realised that I'm late for, um, a detention." Pansy frowned suspiciously.
"A detention at eight in the morning?" she narrowed her eyes.
"Um yeah, it was Snape, he needed to talk to me…" he cut himself off by shoving the piece of toast in his mouth, and climbing out from the bench at the same time as Blaise, their eyes meeting with a knowing glance. They hurriedly left, and Draco tore off a chunk of his toast, eating it quickly, before repeating the action again, until he'd finished the slice. Blaise smirked as they walked through the Hogwarts corridors, and raised an eyebrow at Draco.
"I can see a very happy marriage in the future there…" he jumped out of the way as Draco attempted to hit him.
"Fuck off." He answered moodily, as they reached the door to the dungeons.
It was the end of lessons, and the Slytherin common room was occupied by various groups of students, chatting, doing homework, or playing games by the fire that was warming the spacious room.
Draco was lounged in his usual armchair, looking at a peculiar device that Blaise had recently purchased in the muggle area of London.
"It's called an 'iPod'," Blaise grinned, overly pleased with his new toy.
"And…what does it do exactly?" Draco looked bemused as he turned the thin, black device over in his hands, poking at the 'screen' with no results.
"It plays music," Blaise explained, removing the iPod from Draco, and pressing the button on the bottom of the device. The screen lit up, and Blaise followed the instruction to slide the bar to the right, before entering his pass code, and clicking on his music selection. Draco had never understood Blaise's obsession with muggle music, and sighed, bored, as Blaise put the 'headphones' into his ears and started bopping his head to some silent tune that only he could hear.
Draco picked up a book from the table next to him and examined the cover. 'Dark Charms through the Ages' grinning, Draco opened the cover, and began to read the instructions on various hexes and spells that could be put on household items so that they would cause the user various types of harm. He'd just reached a particularly interesting account of how you could charm a cloth to cause a stinging rash on any area of skin that it touched, when he was interrupted by Blaise, who had began to sing out of tune out loud. Sighing, he poked Blaise for the fifth time and raised his eyebrows.
"You're doing it again." He smirked, as his best friend thanked him sheepishly. He stood up and stretched, before tapping Blaise again. "I'm going to change for dinner." The other boy nodded, and replaced the headphone in his ear, before doing a strange dance that seemed to involve wiggling his fingers near his shoulder and violently shaking his other hand around the side of his stomach.
Draco made his way up the stairs to the 6th year boy's dorm room, his socked feet sinking into the plush, dark green carpet. The room was deserted bar him, and he stepped past three four-poster beds before reaching his own, and leaning down to the trunk at the end of his bed. He pulled out a pair of dark jeans, and a dark grey Ramones t-shirt that Blaise had bought him at Christmas, insisting that it was 'cool', and very 'indie', whatever that meant.
He removed his school robes, and changed out of the plain black t-shirt and trousers into his more comfortable clothes. He stopped to admire himself in the mirror once changed, and smirked at the handsome boy who was sneering back at him. His blonde hair was messy, and a fringe fell across one of his eyes, a style that he'd adopted for the 6th year. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and a toned chest and stomach. His jeans fit his legs comfortably, and they t-shirt emphasised the muscles he'd been working on in the newly installed Slytherin gym in the dungeons. To finish his look, his searched through his trunk once more and pulled out a dark green beanie hat with a bobble on the end. This was also given to him by Blaise, who had enjoyed his Christmas shopping a little too much. He pulled it onto the back of his head, and positioned precisely; not too far off, but not covering his fringe or the front of his hair. The whole look was aimed to be casual and thrown on, but Draco's roommates knew that it was anything but.
Deciding that his outfit was complete, he left the dorm room and descending the stairs, his hands shoved into his pockets non-chalantly. He appreciated the attention from the Slytherin girls, and returned to his seat by the fire, and picked up the book again.
"There's not much point in carrying on reading, mate, it's practically dinner." Blaise had put away his iPod finally, and was standing, stretching all of his 6'2". Draco checked his watch, and nodded, standing also and putting down the book. They left the common room together, and headed to the great hall.
As they entered, Draco noticed a crowd on the Gryffindor table, gathered around a small figure in the middle. They sat down, and he nudged Blaise.
"Who's that? In the middle?" he gestured to the centre of the group, and Blaise shrugged, not particularly interested, and began to fill his plate with chicken and chips.
Draco continued to search through the people, before they settled down and his eyes widened. The girl had gone through a transformation, her usually bushy hair tamed and straightened, her lack of makeup gone, and had been replaced by carefully applied eye-liner and mascara. She was no longer wearing shapeless tops or flared trousers, and instead was sporting a pair of very skinny jeans with pumps, and a tight top with a hoodie thrown on the top.
"Fuck me," he muttered, "It's Hermione Granger…"