Hey everyone, this is my new venture with Hermione/Draco. I just love them and cant get enough. I hope you enjoy this first chapter, let me know if I should keep going, I think this story will be quite good if you guys review enough. The song in quotes was inspired by the penfifteen club's "hey miss hilton." Hope you enjoy.

Hermione Granger tossed and turned in her bed, swallowed up in the immensity of her blankets, trying not to panic as thunder cracked over her head. It was something she had always been afraid of; thunder and lightening. She tossed and turned, wishing the fear and panic away, however it was out of her control, and that was what bothered her the most. Control. The loss of it is what caused her terror. She was in control of everything else in her life; her schoolwork, her selection of friends, and her future job after she had graduated Hogwarts later on that year. However, death was something she could not control, and the fear of being electrocuted to death did not sit well with the seemingly perfect Head Girl. She slowly crawled out of bed, fumbled around to her dresser, and found a bottle of her muggle Zoloft pills. She popped one without even taking a drink, and returned to bed, thankful that her dentist father could fill such a prescription. She then looked up to her ceiling and felt more in control, yet still uneasy and unsatisfied with the way that she had so easily lost control of her life. She was not going to die from a stupid little thunderstorm, she had thought silently. She attempted to close her eyes, and drifted off into a seemingly satisfying sleep.

But what Hermione didn't know was that she wasn't alone in her restless night. Draco Malfoy stared at the ceiling, feeling completely alone, even though Pansy Parkinson was asleep next to him. He knew that she didn't care about him, and she knew damn well that he could replace her instantly. Yet they still maintained a false relationship together, perhaps because that's what others expected of them – the Slytherin King and Queen were never meant to be apart. So he and she stayed together technically; cheating on each other rampantly – a silent understanding between the two of them that as long as they maintained their title, everything was fine. Yet he always felt unsatisfied, and he wasn't sure why. Perhaps he did, yet he wasn't ready to admit it to himself. He knew that he had everything that a young wizard could want – power, wealth, good looks and an unlimited supply of young women at his leisure – yet he knew that he needed something more. A crack of thunder above his head caused him to jerk out of his reverie, a seemingly ironic reminder that life wasn't always going to be there and that something or someone could take it away from him didn't exactly help him to fall asleep any easier. So the young Slytherin turned onto his side and stared out the window, watching the lightening dance among the sky and pounce down onto the ground like a tiger onto its helpless prey.

The next day seemed to drag on, with most of Hogwart's students feeling the melancholy effects of the bad weather. Hermione forced herself to eat the small amount of breakfast in front of her, pushing the food around, hoping to make it disappear without her actually having to eat it. She watched in envy as the other Gryffindors she had come to regard as family ate merrily at the table, cracking jokes and telling secrets that seemed to be the center of their tiny world. She looked over to a window and outside at the storm that was surrounding the castle. She tried not to panic, and maintained the same placid smile across her face, leading her peers to believe that nothing was wrong. Yet underneath the vast table at which they sat, her leg jiggled nervously trying to release the nervous energy that had built up inside of her.

"Hermione!" She snapped out of her thoughts and looked over to one of her best friends, Harry Potter, waving his hand in front of her face.

"Yes?" She responded.

"I've been calling your name for what seems to be the past millennia. Now would you answer my question?" Harry asked with that same mischievous smile on his now mature, handsome face.

"What was the question again?" She asked, trying to seem interested in their mindless chatter.

"Well, we have found out, quite secretively, that our fellow Slytherins are throwing a party for all of the school, except for us Gryffs. They even invited the fucking Hufflepuffs. We plan on crashing it. You in?" Harry asked, with Ron looking eagerly on beside him, as usual.

"No thanks, I have some potions homework that I really need to catch up on; you guys go ahead without me." She lied, trying to get out of what she really didn't want to do.

"Oh Hermione, we all know that you finished every single homework assignment there has ever been given in the history of Hogwarts. Come with us, just this once," Harry pleaded, with wide eyes. She could never resist the wide, emerald eyes of her best friend.

"Fine. As long as I don't actually have to do anything, I'm just standing there and that's all," She relented.

"That's fine. And we want you to look the part. We are requiring that everyone that comes with us wears all black. Can you handle it?" He asked, half laughing.

"Are you serious?" She asked, dumbfounded.

"Completely. Be in the common room at 8. Don't be late," He replied, and as he said that, the bell to begin the afternoon classes rang.

Later that evening at around six, Hermione Granger stood in the mirror, looking at her reflection. She applied the straightening charm to her hair and applied some dark black eye shadow to her sparkling brown orbs. She then rifled through her closet and picked out a simple fitted black turtleneck and a rather short black skirt that she deemed inappropriate for any other occasion other than this. She then pulled on some black Ugg boots that she thought looked ridiculous but knew were the most comfortable shoes she had ever owned. She spun around and left the room without a second glance in the mirror. It must be easy when you're that naturally beautiful.

She met her fellow Gryffindors downstairs, what looked to her like a swarm of black aunts all surrounding their leader, someone who they regarded as the boy-who-lived-to-lead. Or in the case of tonight, he was the boy-who-lived-to-cause-trouble. She found her place next to her best friend, Ginny Weasley, trying to look like she was part of the crowd and not just a bookworm that studied all the time. She followed the Gryffindors, walking next to Harry and Ron, the trifecta of trouble as they were this night, walking towards the Slytherin dungeons, Hermione felt a stab of nervous energy course through her veins, yet she tried to will it away, at least for now.

Harry and some other boys preformed enlarging spells on the exhaust vents so that everyone could fit through in order to get to the Slytherin common room without being noticed, when Hermione and Ginny were finally in the vent above the ceiling of the common room, Hermione started to observe all the seemingly drunk teenagers move about the party, and dreaded the seconds until she'd have to jump down from the vent and do what was perhaps one of the first events in her life that actually caused trouble.

Draco Malfoy was the typical life of the party, the alpha male, the type that was surrounded by replaceable beauties and always had a vodka gimlet in his hand. It was the perfect drink for the Slytherin, since he used only the most expensive vodka of the wizarding world that gave off a silverish tint, and the green lime in it completed the Slytherin color scheme. He represented everything that Slytherin was about, a cold sense of beauty, intelligence, cunning, and an arrogance that only comes with wealth and good breeding. He wandered about the party, giddy with the satisfaction that he had one-upped the Gryffindorks one more time. He secretly didn't give a fuck about the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry, it's just that he hated Harry fucking Potter, and his do-gooder ways severely annoyed the Slytherin. Its not that he envied his fame; he didn't. Although he liked the attention he received from his classmates, he never wanted to be the one that was expected to defeat the Dark Lord, or to always be perfect all the time. He enjoyed being bad sometimes, and basically having no consequences, unless he pissed off his father. He was supremely enjoying himself at this party. Blaise Zabini's band played a song she wrote for him as a favor for getting her out of trouble with her own, equally as demanding and wealthy father. Draco smiled as he heard Blaise sing his favorite line.

"He's a stone cold fox with platinum hair

Mr. Malfoy, you must be worth a trillion bucks.

Get the feeling that you don't really give a fuck."

Draco took a sip on his gimlet as he heard rumbling above his head, something that was entirely different from the thunder that he had become accustomed to. He watched as everyone in the room started to cover their heads as the plates covering the vents for the air conditioning and heat started to pop open. Everyone at the party looked to him for a look, a glance, to let them know that everything was alright. However, in his half drunken state, didn't know what the fuck was going on, nor did he feel like dealing with it. He then looked up and saw a ton of blurry figures in black practically falling out of the ceiling. He stumbled up, realizing that he was a lot more wasted than he has previously thought. He cursed his unbalanced nature when intoxicated, and tried to scream out "What the fuck!" but somehow he couldn't muster the words.

Hermione surveyed the scene as soon as she got over the shock of jumping down from a ten foot ceiling. As soon as the first Gryffindors landed, the band stopped playing, and a bunch of kids at the party stopped dancing and started ducking in corners and covering their heads. She had to admit to herself that this was pretty badass, something that she had never done before. She looked around, noticing the ruler of Slytherin himself, Draco Malfoy. He looked like he was about to be sick, probably from drinking one too many of his famous silver vodka gimlets. Even a homebody bookworm like Hermione had heard of Draco's famously expensive and favorite drink. However, something that Hermione was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling that she was not used to, jealousy. She was extremely jealous of Draco Malfoy, despite all of his childlike, immature and bratty ways, she was jealous of him. She knew had everything; money, wealth, and love with Pansy Parkinson, despite the fact that he got ass from every girl that he ever wanted it from. She watched him from the sidelines, seeing him in the corner attempting to get up and hold his glass level. On an impulse, she walked up to him, grabbed his precious gimlet, put the glass on the floor and smashed it with her foot. Harry turned around and looked at what had just happened, and began to laugh. Hermione was finally letting go of her prudish self. Draco just looked up at her with a drunken stupidity, and she laughed at the power she felt over him, the control she felt over him.

He then looked up at her with sad eyes, and she suddenly felt bad for him. Why she felt this way, she didn't know. Then he fell over to his side, completely passing out. She suddenly felt even worse for him, and bent over to help him get up. As she bent over and tried to pick up his lifeless form, she noticed multiple scars all over his neck and on his collarbone, although she didn't dare look past where his shirt ended. So, this boy has a past, and perhaps a present skeleton in the closet.

"Hermione, what the bloody hell are you doing? You're supposed to be spray painting the walls, not helping Mr. Drunko Malfoy. What the hell?" Harry said, half yelling.

"Nothing, he just passed out…I didn't know what to do," Hermione replied.

"You leave him alone and come with me. There's stuff to be done," He said plainly.

"I told you if I came with you, I wasn't going to be doing anything. So leave me alone and stop dragging me into this mess," She replied firmly, attempting to stand her ground with one of the most powerful students in Hogwarts, albeit the fact that he was her best friend.

"Fine. I suppose I know now where your loyalty lies. With this filth," He spat, looking disgusted at her.

"I didn't mean that I would rather take care of Malfoy! I meant that I wanted to stay on the sidelines this time," She replied, trying not to let her voice shake.

"Shut up, Hermione. You're always on the sidelines, although I hate to say it. You always are," Harry replied, looking at her with a blank stare.

"Oh really. I'm sure that I was on the sidelines when I helped you save sirius Blacks life, or that I helped you retrieve the Sorcerer's stone. You forget so easily, all the shit I've done for you. You've turned into such a prick since Dumbledore died last year," Hermione said, and then gasped when she realized what she had done.

"Fuck you, Hermione. You wouldn't understand, at least you have a father; he was the closest thing to one that I've ever had. So fuck you and goodbye," With that, he spun on his heels and walked away, leaving Hermione there with a single tear running down her cheek.

Hope you liked it. The next chapter will come if I get some reviews, even some critisms, I really don't care, it helps me improve my writing. Ps- I'll be needing a beta writer, so if you are interested write in your review some contact info – ie, aim s/n, email, msn s/n if you are interested, it should be good because youll get to help me develop the story and help with ideas. Thanks!

xxx

tinkerbelle