A/N: So here's the next chapter… sorry, this is more of a transition chapter; not a whole lot of exciting stuff, but I had to take the time to explain or it would have been too confusing for a reader. By the way, the Head Boy/Girl theme may be a bit unoriginal, and technically I could have omitted it from the storyline, but I thought it fit in well with the plot. That's all – enjoy!

Blaise

Blaise Zabini never liked trains. In his opinion, nothing good ever happened on trains; he had a notion this time wasn't about to be any different.

He sauntered down the middle walkway, peering into compartments. Most were already occupied, not that it mattered to him – Blaise had a seat reserved in the Prefect's compartments.

He had been surprised when McGonagall had chosen Draco to be Head Boy; attempting to murder your Headmaster really didn't do well on your résumé. He had been downright shocked when, upon receiving the news, Draco had refused and passed the honor to Blaise. His friend had never offered an explanation, and Blaise was not one to pry, but the memory still caused him to shake his head in disbelief.

"What are you thinking about?"

Blaise blinked at his companion. "Nothing, Draco."

"You're not still wondering about your position as Head Boy?"

Blaise huffed. What a mind reader. "It's not important. Do you know who the Head Girl is?"

"Granger," he answered without hesitation.

"Who told you?"

"Nobody told me, nimrod, it's obvious. Who else would McGonagall pick other than perfect little sycophant Granger?"

"You've got a point there. Will you accompany me to the Prefects' seating?"

"Sure, mate. Anything to get away from Pa-"

"DRACO!" Speak of the devil. Both boys cringed at the cacophony that was Pansy Parkinson's voice.

"I've missed you so much, sweetcakes! Why didn't you owl me, baby?"

"Uh… well, you see, um, Pansy…" He stammered, trying in vain to fend off her capturing embrace. "Oh, get off me, would you?"

Draco and Blaise both had a fling with Pansy at some point in their school years, although it had definitely not been because of her personality. She was never as attached to Blaise as she was to Draco; they went out for most of 6th year, until Draco finally dumped her that summer vacation. Despite many reminders of their breakup, she followed them around like a lost puppy ever since.

"Listen, Pansy," Blaise began in his most reasonable voice, "'Sweetcakes' and I need to head up to the Prefect's compartments-"

"Oooooh, can I come? Pleeaaase?"

"No, it's reserved for Prefects and Heads."

"But Dracie's neither, and he's going!"

Shit. He hadn't thought of that. He raked his brain for a valid excuse. When he turned up with nothing but lame phrases, he gave his friend a helpless look.

Draco sighed in defeat. "Fine, you can come."

"Yay! Thanks, Dracie!"

Disgusted, Blaise turned away. Clingy people made him very uncomfortable. Being a born womanizer, he avoided them on a regular basis.

As the three Slytherins made their way past groups of students clustering the walkway, Blaise remembered his earlier thoughts regarding trains. As always, he had been right. That was a benefit of pessimism; if things went well, you were pleasantly surprised; if not, at least you felt the satisfaction of having predicted correctly.

"Blaise?" A few meters ahead of him, Draco shot him a look that clearly conveyed, Help me!

Merlin, this was going to be a long train ride.

Hermione

I'm not sure what I was expecting when I entered the Prefect's compartments, but it definitely wasn't what I saw before me.

The only reason I found myself here in the first place was that bloody requirement for Heads to sit in the front of the Hogwarts Express. Not to sound inappreciative – I was very proud and delighted to have been chosen as Head Girl, as were my friends, but I still didn't want to spend the entire train ride alone while all the other Gryffindors had a ball without me. Besides, I hadn't seen them since before summer; we had so much to catch up on.

It did have some positive aspects, though – I would see the other Prefects and Heads. I felt very curious as to who was Head Boy, of course. I knew it couldn't possibly be a Gryffindor; I would have heard about that. Don't get me wrong, I love my Gryffindor boys, but give them the slightest thing worth bragging about and you'll never hear the last of it.

I felt my heart sink, however, when I beheld the scene from the doorway. The only other seventh-years in the compartment were Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and Miss Pugface Parkinson, the rest of the room filled to the brim with chattering fifth-years. Since Head Boy had to be a seventh-year, it couldn't be anyone other than Malfoy or Zabini.

Gulping air and attempting to push the growing sense of dread out of my thoughts, I approached them. Parkinson was laughing shrilly at one of Zabini's jokes while petting an annoyed-looking Malfoy on the head. Thinking fast, I decided to take this in a civilized manner. I am Head Girl, after all.

"Good morning, Malfoy, Parkinson, Zabini."

Malfoy seemed strangely relieved at the distraction. "Ah, what have we here? Mudblood Granger. I assume you're Head Girl?"

My eyes narrowed in anger. Forget civilized behavior, this was Slytherin I was dealing with. "I don't see how it's any of your business."

"It may not be his, but it's mine. I'm Head Boy," Zabini answered in a silky tone.

That left me quite conflicted. Between the two of them, I couldn't have picked two young men less cut out for the job. Take Zabini for example. Aside from being a complete jerk, he was Hogwarts' biggest, most vigorous player, spending most of his free time chatting up unsuspecting girls and then snogging them half dead in some closet. Don't even get me started on Malfoy. The list of reasons speaking against him was so long it could have reached to the bottom of Black Lake. All in all, I wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or devastated at this news.

Well, however conflicted I was, I could still get back at Malfoy for calling me a mudblood. "Since you are neither a Head nor a Prefect, Malfoy, I think it best if you removed your ferret ass from my presence."

He smirked. "The Head Boy thinks it's just fine for me to sit where I want, right Blaise?" His grin grew even wider. "But Pansy, if the Head Girl doesn't want non-Prefects to be here, you'd better leave."

Suddenly a matching grin lit up my face. "Oh, but that wouldn't be fair, now would it, Malfoy? If you can stay, I think Parkinson should stay as well." That earned murder glares from both Slytherin boys.

I merely returned what I hoped was a sweet, innocent smile. I was starting to like this new me.