Hermione Granger didn't know what had hit her. Well, she did, obviously it was a charm, but that wasn't the part she was having trouble with. No, that would be the part where Draco Malfoy was kneeling in front of her, apologizing. Not only that, but the fact that she was almost positive her lips were tingling not from the painful shock of the spell but from being kissed. By Malfoy. Oh, Merlin, Hermione wake up! Pinch yourself, or something. That ferrety git wouldn't kiss you! You're a filthy mudblood to him! She told herself. Obviously, she didn't listen to herself, as Malfoy stayed where he was, his gray eyes clouded with concern. Standing in front of them was a fuming Pansy Parkinson, wand pointed directly at Hermione.
"Cow! Ugly, sleazy, tarty cow!" She screamed. Footsteps sounded behind her, and Professors Snape and Mcgonagall grabbed the angry girl from behind, forcing her to drop her wand. It clattered on the hard stone floor, the sound echoing in the now shocked silence filling the corridor. Pansy was now sobbing, obviously more attatched to the indifferent blonde Slytherin paying attention to a girl other than her than Hermione had known. A girl who Pansy could clearly see Draco would not condone to be insulted. "Draco," Pansy whispered. Her large eyes begged him, but he gave her a passing glance, filled with only disgust.
Hermione's vision started to cloud under Pansy's glare, the back of her head aching where it hit the stone. She started to lose her bearings. She tried to get her arms underneath her, but they felt like jelly on the cold floor. Draco, however, noticed her futile attempts, and, as gently as he could, he lifted her off the floor. She moaned even with the slight movement. Under normal circumstances, Hermione would never allow her so called 'nemesis' to touch her, let alone carry her to the hospital wing. However, the extreme pain from the combined force of Pansy's blow and her fall onto the hard floor overcame her senses. She gave a final groan, and blacked out.
************************ 10 days earlier**********************************************
"No. No, no, no, no, no!" Hermione Granger shook her copy of the Daily Prophet, delivered by an owl that morning, but only just opened. She glared at the neatly printed words, wishing she could make them disappear. No, she wished she could make the subject of the offensive article disappear. But that wish was shared by the entire wizarding world.
"More attacks?" Her long-time friend, Harry Potter, asked her. She nodded, rolling her eyes as if to say; Of Course. "Right, what else, eh?" He corrected himself. She nodded again, glaring at the Prophet. Her gaze was so intense that, from his view on the other side of the Great Hall, Draco Malfoy wondered if she would burn holes through the newspaper. He smirked, enjoying his enemy's frustration. And his leader's triumph, of course. But mostly at the frizzy haired freak seated with Potty and Weasel.
Draco turned to Blaise Zabini, the closest thing he had to a friend. He had his goons, (a term he used fondly, mind you) and his… Pansy Parkinson, but no friends really. Blaise was stuffing his face with roast potatoes and Yorkshire Puddings, his plate already pre-loaded with slices of lamb. Draco rolled his eyes, then took a sip from his water before speaking.
"Head Boy, you reckon?" He inquired.
Blaise nodded, raising his eyebrows at the blonde haired boy next to him. "Really, Draco? Do you even think it's possible you wouldn't?"
Draco smirked, knowing he really wanted attention. He twitched an eyebrow up and down, turning his attention back to the podium where Dumbledore, or the madman as Draco preferred to call him, stepped up, ready to make an announcement.
"Quiet, quiet," he called, and almost automatically a hush fell through the fall. "Now, this year I will rely on our Head Boy and Girl to enforce our rules, as I know both will. Head Boy: Congratulations to Draco Malfoy." Cheers erupted from the Slytherin table, with a few polite claps around the room. "Head girl: Hermione Granger, well done indeed." The Gryffindor table roared, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw clapped, but silence was heard from the Slytherins, as per usual. Enjoy the feast. Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger, please meet me in my office afterwards," Dumbledore concluded.
Hermione smiled, gracious. However, she wasn't particularly thrilled about Draco Malfoy of all people being head boy, but nothing could be done. Harry and Ron patted her shoulders, Ginny grinned at her. She patted down her hair as Dumbledore took his seat, trying not to glare at Draco, who was sneering at her from his table. She turned back to her friends, only to notice Harry smiling shyly at Ginny and Ron stuffing his face with lamb covered in gravy and mint sauce.
"Merlin, Ronald! Must you be such a… pig? Honestly." He lifted his eyes, looking at her with his confused 'I'm an idiot' look, then went back to his food. Hermione rolled her eyes, frustrated. "Harry, I… Harry? Harry!" She had to almost yell to get his attention. Merlin, that boy fancied Ginny a tad too much. Harry turned to her, widening his eyes as if to say, 'Not now!' Hermione again sighed, turning back to her plate of food. She stabbed a brussel sprout with her fork, glaring at it. From across the room, she heard the ferrety git Draco Malfoy laughing.
As much as she hated to admit it, Draco wasn't half bad looking. He had filled out, gained muscles from endless Quidditch practices, and his gray eyes seemed to glow. Hermione, no! Stop it, you idiot. She smacked her forehead in a futile attempt to rid herself of these thoughts. Oh, if only she could rid herself of that boy, she'd be fine. And honestly, whether he was gorge or not, she knew none of that mattered compared to the Dark Mark hidden under his robes. That realization brought her back to reality. Dumbledore dismissed the students, so Hermione headed to wait outside his office for Malfoy.
Draco arrived, looking rather flustered. He also had a lipstick stain on his cheek. For some reason, this stirred something in Hermione. She recognized jealousy. Her subconscious smacked her again. Merlin, girl, hold yourself together! It's purple lipstick. Pansy. It's not like he loves her, or anything. She furrowed her brow as she thought this, wondering why love would matter to her subconscious. She physically shrugged her shoulders, commanding herself not to care.
Draco smirked, wiping his cheek, then stepping forward to utter the password. He looked at the slip of parchment in his hand, then shrugged. "Jellybean." He said, firmly. The door opened and the pair stepped inside.