I will apologize in advance if I get any terms, names, or spells incorrect. I've read/seen the Harry Potter films/books, but I'm merely an amateur. If there is anything you find that you dislike, inform me, and I will try my best to alter it. Thanks for clicking on this fan-fiction link; read and enjoy :D I repeat, this is a Draco/Hermione (Dramione) fan-fiction.

Future Additional Comments: I would like to thank Schermionie for giving what is probably the most helpful bunch of constructive criticisms yet. I've re-edited the first chapter just slightly after reading more deeply into the text. Thank you again!

I looked out the window of my castle tower, my glorious bedroom of royalty. I heard the maids scurry around beyond my wooden door. My palm came in contact with the cold stone ledge as I stared at the black, metal, barred window. It wasn't the crack of dawn, but it wasn't exactly noon just yet – somewhere in between where breakfast and lunch was served.

I looked past my barred window, my only source of fresh air, and sighed as I saw the lush land of Gryffindor. Beautiful, isn't it? Rich valleys and a busy hubbub in the town square. How I wished to be part of society; to just get a glimpse of what it'd be like to have an actual life without being trapped within my own home.

"Princess Hermione, your bath is ready. Best be there before it cools down, the weather is quite chilly today."

My personal maid, Luna Lovegood, was such a kindly young woman. She's just a year or two younger than I, but she's extraordinarily mature for someone who's only fifteen (and however many days, she would say).

"Thank you, Luna, I'll be there in a moment. You should take the next hours to rest, I know how busy you've been – running errands for father and such."

She bowed forward slightly towards me. How I wish people would stop treating me as such; I'm a witch, just as they all were. I sighed at the term "witch" I've bestowed upon myself. I'm no pureblood, never in a million years. I'm what the society would call a "mudblood" – such a horrid term used to describe me, the living embodiment of royalty.

My biological parents had been complete mortals – non-magic folk. I've only been called a "witch" after I was taken in by the royal court, who realized my magical abilities that came only once every hundred generations in the mortal world. After that, I was taken in as the adopted daughter of the king and queen of Gryffindor – my magic had surpassed all who have tried against me, although, they weren't the brightest lot of wizards and witches I've seen. The royal court couldn't bear the fact of having a witch in mortal hands, so they put me here as the princess of Gryffindor. Why my adoptive parents didn't have another child is beyond my knowledge – for now, that is.

That was all so long ago – thirteen years, to be exact; I'd only been about the age of five, and the memories are oddly vague – I can only put the pieces together from what I've heard from the maids.

"Thank you, Princess Hermione, but you know my duties to serve you are strict. Please, don't think much about it, it's no trouble at all."

I gave her a small smile as I stepped into the bathroom. I stood utterly still as I was stripped of my night gown, an eerie chill went up my spine as I stood bare. Luna guided me to the bath and I stepped in.

"Is there anything on your mind, m'lady? Your shoulders a bit more tense than usual."

I leaned my back on the edge of the tub as she poured warm water over my body, gently rubbing on some soap.

"It's just the usual, Luna, no reason to fret."

"Oh, the whole 'wanting to be free' situation?"

I sighed and gave a small nod as she began to wash my hair, combing her slender fingers through it.

"You simply have to understand that until the kingdom of Gryffindor and Slytherin come to a mutual understanding, it's simply not safe for a lady of such stature to be walking in public."

I slapped my hand through the bubbly waters and watched as it splotched against the faucet, gently dripping down afterwards.

"It's a war over nothing! The two kingdoms will even fight if they are in a mutual agreement! It's insane how it all is. All four kingdoms are supposed to be at peace with one another, but it's always war when it comes to Slytherin, and they always seem to target Gryffindor. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are in utter peace, it almost disgusts me how we cannot be in peace."

"It's just the way it is, think of how odd it'd be for Slytherin and Gryffindor to just stop fighting. Nothing can happen overnight, m'lady."

"Why, I outta just cast a curse –"

"Princess, you know that is strictly prohibited, not to mention tragically dangerous if anyone finds out if was you who caused it. I'm sorry, m'lady, but you'll just have to deal with it until they come to a truce."

I scowled, "You mean, if they ever."

I felt her hand on my arm as she guided me up out of the tub and dried me off.

"Like I said, it's how the world works nowadays. Let's leave it be."

I heaved a long sigh as I pulled the dress over my head. I turned around for the laces to be laced up and my shoes to be put on.

"It's just very hard to have a meal, knowing that your kingdom is at war with another."

I felt the comb's bristles against my scalp as it ran through my brunette hair.

"Well, maybe the two kingdoms will be at peace when you take the throne, m'lady."

I smiled at the thought; me, queen of Gryffindor! – What a sight it'd be! I laughed at my own imaginations, it wouldn't be until another twenty years until my coronation.

"Off you go now, m'lady, the king and queen are waiting for you in the main dining hall."

"Dearest Hermione, what's on your mind? You seem oddly stressed. You're not even wearing your new gown this afternoon," my mother stated, quite concerned.

I put down my fork and placed my hands on my lap – a force of habit.

"Well, you see, I've been just a tad angry that our kingdom is always at war with the kingdom of Slytherin. I don't see there be any reason to even be at war."

My mother and father looked at one another, then back towards me.

"Hermione, sweetheart, I'd like to let you know that I've sent out a treaty of peace with the kingdom of Slytherin. Until I receive a response, I'm afraid we'll be at war until – and if – it is to be signed."

"I wish to eat lunch without having the thought that our kingdom might be invaded. I wish to go out to the town square and greet the commoners without having to know that I might be kidnapped. I wish to be in peace, father, you've no idea how I long for a truce with the Slytherin kingdom."

My father gave me a heartwarming smile, and as did my mother, "We've nothing to do but wait now, Hermione."

I gave them a smile in return. I slowly got up and left the main dining hall and retreated to my castle tower bedroom. At last, peace! The kingdom of Gryffindor may finally be at ease with Slytherin. Oh, how joyful I am, I simply must share these great news with Luna!

"Are you sure about this? I feel as if we're betraying her in a way – handing her over to the Slytherin Prince."

"No need to worry, dear wife. I'm confident that our Hermione is mature and she'd handle the situation with the utmost care."

"What is wrong with you!? Filthy servant, begone!"

My no-good servant scurried out of my bed chamber. At last, I was alone. I picked up my wand, "Incendio."

This wretched chilly weather is getting on my nerves, and the fire I just started in the fireplace wasn't giving as much of an effect as I thought it would. A shame it is. I flicked my wand again, "Ferula."

Curse that servant, spilling a pot of immensely hot soup on my arm. I sighed in content as the bandages took its effect on my burning wound.

"Draco! Get down here this instant!"

My father and his wretched tyrants, utter insanity I tell you. I looked around for my cloak, where ever could it have gone? I sighed, drat, "Accio."

I looked at myself in the full view mirror.

"Peh, I wanted my emerald green one, but this will do for now."

I stuck my wand within my cloak and headed towards the main hall. This is the price to pay for being the Slytherin Prince – it's well worth it.

"What took you so long, Draco?" my mother questioned.

"A good-for-nothing servant spilled hot soup on my arm, mother," I replied rather coldly.

I sat down on the green velvet covered chair and ran my fingers through my platinum blond locks.

"How are things going with Gryffindor? Not too much blood shed, I hope?" I questioned.

My father groaned, "They've tried to admit a truce –"

I laughed bitterly, if there was anything I inherited from my father, it was the sarcastic laugh.

"Have they no shame? Admitting defeat?" I stated.

"Yes, it is an odd situation," my mother stated cunningly, "they've stated they cannot afford to go into war with us over nothing."

"Over nothing? Our kingdoms have always been at war, it's how the world works around here."

My father gave me a sly look, "It's funny how you should state that, it was stated that the princess of Gryffindor stated the exact opposite in their treaty of alliance."

I nearly spat, but I'm too much of royalty to engage in such mudblood actions.

"The princess of Gryffindor, if I can recall correctly, is merely an adoptive child. More so, she's a filthy mudblood with magical abilities that might've been a fluke by nature," my mother scowled.

"They've bought up a good point, we've lost quite a number of wizards and witches in this war – I believe we're down to our last few thousand, not counting the ones who've been severely injured. If we take anymore measures of war, I'm sure we'd be down by another thousand."

I sat up straight and leaned my elbows against my thighs.

"Father, what ever are you trying to say? You're actually agreeing to draw a truce?"

"You said it as if I'm a mudblood. I've no choice but to call a truce, our economy will run dry if we don't. They've already sent a treaty and I've looked at it from every possible angle and it seems safe. Besides, we have more important matters to attend to rather than bicker with these Gryffindors."

"So, are we signing the treaty or not, Lucius?"

My mother seemed rather impatient, perhaps she had another one of her potions clubs to attend? My father gave into a thinking stance; I could tell he was thinking of the possible opportunities he had in his new range.

"No, not yet, we'll wait until the annual ball. We'll meet there and discuss the matters at hand. It won't look too suspicious since the other two kingdoms will also be there."

I rolled my eyes, "The ball is in three days, why not just accept the treaty now?"

I saw my mother glance at me for a second before returning her gaze towards my father.

"Because. Their princess is a mudblood, I'm still having doubts of forming an alliance with a kingdom whose future queen is a mudblood. As bright as she may be, she's not a pureblood. I've already married off all my nephews and nieces to every other kingdom but Gryffindor –"

I stood up immediately, quite angered, I must say, "No! I refuse!"

"Draco, you haven't even let your father finish yet, sit down, son!"

"I know perfectly well what he's trying to say. I refuse to marry a mudblood for the sake of the kingdom. I'll do anything else but be used in a marriage-alliance. Filthy mudbloods; how in the world do you expect me to live that way? Aren't we supposed to remain within our pureblood range?"

I felt the burning grey eyes of my father peering at me.

"You are a Malfoy, and Malfoy children do what they do best – listen to the elder Malfoy, understood, Draco?"

I swiftly turned on my heel and walked up to my bed chamber, "Curses to all!"

Me, marry a mudblood? – That's insane, I will not allow it! Filthy insolent mortals! How dare my father place such a wretched deed upon me; blasted Gryffindors, curse them all!

Thank you for reading (: How'd I do? Not to horrible, right? Again, this is my first Harry Potter fan-fiction. Remember, constructive criticism is allowed and very well appreciated.