A/N: This is my first legitimate attempt at a Harry Potter fic, not counting the ones where I wrote a bit of one chapter, realized my idiocy, and promptly stopped writing it. Hopefully, that will not happen with this one. Also, this is my first shot at a Draco/Hermione story, I just thought they'd be so cute together, so... here you have it: Chapter 1 of Forgetting the Rain.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, if I did, I definitely wouldn't be wasting my time on my rickety old Mac typing this. I'd probably be counting my money.

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If it hadn't been for one of his team mates' (rather harsh) cry of 'Malfoy!' he'd have been thirteen feet in the ground with an angry bludger lodged into his skull before he even knew who -or what- had hit him. Luckily for him, a nifty barrel-roll on his brand-new StarGrazer 3000 saved him from that fate. Drat! He needed to keep his eyes on the game, and *off* Hermione Granger.

And yet, how could he, with her looking beautiful as ever on the blessed sunny day. Bloody hell! She was a mudblood, not worthy of even a passing glance from the pureblooded Draco Malfoy. That phrase was just about all that kept the hateful words flowing out of his mouth to her. Imagine what father would say if he befriended a Gryffindor.

Running a hand through his platinum locks, he tilted the front of his broom slightly, sending him rocketing high above the Quidditch pitch, and gradually that certain Gryffindor become only a tiny dot in his eye. Out of his keen peripheral, a glint of gold hovered right by the Hufflepuff goal, 30 meters away. They were already slaughtering the weaker team 70-10, so why not get the game over with? With a ragged sigh, he shifted his position, now laying almost parallel to the broom handle. Like a rocket, he sped off to claim victory on behalf of all Slytherins.

The Hufflepuff seeker quickly saw his direction, but was outstripped by the powerful broom in a matter of moments, his own Cleansweep Seven looking more useful as a cleaning tool at the moment. Grasping the wooden handle of his own broom with one hand, Draco lurched forward, and closed the fingers of his other hand around the small, wriggling golden ball which he then raised triumphantly in the air. A waves of cries erupted from the Slytherin side of the stands, while groans came form the rest of the houses. And yet, even Draco couldn't rightly wear a smug grin through his victory.

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Hermione let out a pent-up breath as she saw the players land with a 'thud' on the green tur of the playing field. The Gryffindors would now have to beat Slytherin by at least seventy in the game that hovered ominously two weeks ahead. And Hermione knew only too well what that meant, that she probably would be seeing very little of her two best friends. Ever since Ron had joined the team as a Chaser two years prior, it was nearly impossible to sever the two boys from their beloved Quidditch field.

She filed out of the tower behind Harry and Ron, who were animatedly chatting about tactics, which was worse then a foreign language to their Quidditch-inept friend. She turned around quickly when a tap came to her shoulder, finding herself face to face with Ginny Weasley.

"Don't worry, the season will be over soon." The younger girl gave a knowing smile. 'Not soon enough.' Hermione was tempted to add. The red-head just went riht on into telling her a joke she'd heard from so-and-so, and Hermione, only half-listening let her mind wander to other things at hand. Namely OWLS and Transfiguration.

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Dinner went past in a blur, thankfully enough. Hermione vaguely remebered laughing, and eating of course, but the rest was just beyond her reach. As she lay in bed that night, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be in love. Harry and Ginny were definitley an item, whether they realized it was so obvious or not. She had noticed their lengthy glances at each other frequently over the past year, but Ron seemed to overlook them. Probably to busy trying to sneak a look up Lavender's robes, she mused with a smile. Though her friend would turn beet red and throw up slugs before he ever admitted that. And yet bookish Hermione Granger; the know-it-all, the show-off, had *no one*, and why it hurt, she didn't know.

Suddenly the Head Girls' room felt entirely too small, leaving her feeling clogged in the confines of her quiet bedroom. Seizing the chance for an adventure, she swung her legs over the side of her four-poster, and silently exited the room, the floor cold under her bare feet.

She just *had* to get out. Creeping out of her room proved an easy-enough task, even for one who rarely bent the rules, as she. Unlike the other years at Hogwarts, she was now Head Girl, with a room of her own, and no nosy roommates poking around.

The corridor was drafty, making Hermione shiver in her light robe, which she had hastily thrown over her nightgown. Her toffee-colored eyes widened slightly, the emptiness of the halls foreign to her. With hushed footsteps,she hurried down the winding staircase that separated the Head Girl and Head Boys' rooms from all others.

It was eerily quiet, though it was much welcomed by Hermione, rather than the lud hustle-and-bustle of a normal day. Vaguely, she wondered where she should go. As she rounded a corner on the third floor unsuspectingly, she collided with a solid object, sending her backwards onto her rear. Glaring haugtily up at her unseen attacker, it was a moment before she rocognized the platinum-blonde hair and hauntingly grey eyes of Draco Malfoy, looking tall and dangerous from her vulnerable postition on the floor.

"Granger!" He gasped out on a hoarse whisper, obviously as surprised to see as as she had been to see him. His face was a meltingpot of indecision, as if he couldn't decide whether to help her up, scowl at her, or dart away.

"What in Merlins' ghost are *you* doing here."

With an indignant tilt of her head, she huffed, and hoisted herself back to her feet, trying hard as she could to size him up, though it was pityfully useless, seeing as he had a head-and-a-half on her. Height-wize, at least.

"I could ask to same to you, *Malfoy*. But seeing as I'm Head Girl, I'd say you're in more of a pickle at the resent time, wouldn't you agree?"

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Coming Up: Malfoys confession... An interesting encounter... a distraction in Potions.

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