Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to any characters or anything related to the Harry Potter universe. Mores the pity.
He may have been integral in bringing down Voldemort, Hermione thought, but he's still a git. She wasn't surprised to see him in the Heads cabin. It made sense that after his part in the happenings of last year that he'd be made a prefect. Most likely it would be a nominal position. She couldn't really see Malfoy preforming his duties. Him, patrol the halls? Not likely. Still, looking at him leaning against the door frame with that smug look he perpetually wore was enough to raise her hackles.
"Malfoy" She said, her voice dripping with disdain. "I was wondering when you'd show your face, ferrety though it may be." She couldn't help the petty satisfaction she felt as his smirk slid into a scowl.
She probably ought to have been more polite seeing as how she was now Head Girl, but she couldn't help it. He was Malfoy. The boy who had tormented her throughout their schooling, the first person who had ever called her a mudblood. She'd heard it many times since then, and had tried to develop a tolerance for it, but you never forgot the first person who introduced you to a new kind of hurt. It had been during her second year in this strange new world, and she wasn't prepared for the prejudices she was going to face in the wizarding world. Not that muggles were without their prejudices, and she supposed they were one in the same. It appeared that no matter the people, some would always try to assert superiority by some asinine accident of birth. It still stung, like tiny paper cuts no one could see, but nothing compared to that first time. To be twelve years old learn that people actually thought her blood to be tainted was heart breaking.
Not that he needed to know any of that.
Still scowling, he took a seat as far from her as he could get in the small compartment. "Oh you're going to make this a lovely year, aren't you?" he said. His voice was rougher than she'd known it to be. In fact, he looked a little rougher as well. His white-blonde hair fell nearly to his slate colored eyes now that he'd forsaken that awful hair gel. His normally ghastly pale skin was a shade darker. Not much of a difference, but when you've been enemies as long as they had, you noticed these things. He was still tall and lean, all sophisticate lines and angles that only served to swell his already over inflated ego.
She wished she'd left a mark that time she'd hit him years ago. Something to mar the perfect shell he hid behind and let his true nature show.
"Look," she said after a few calming breaths, "I don't want to be stuck in here with you any more than you do with me. Let's just wait for the other prefects and Head Boy to get here, go over everything with McGonagall, and then be out of each others hair. It's not like you want this position anyhow." She saw his eyebrows narrow in confusion for the briefest flash before his face was taken over by a look that said 'I know something you don't know'.
"I was unaware you'd be able to get anything out of that mountain you call hair, Granger. Color me shocked." he quipped, and with a face of exaggerated surprise propped his feet rather rudely on the seat across from him. Not even two minutes with him and already she felt likely to throttle him. How on earth was she going to handle bi-monthly head/prefect meetings? Merlin she hoped she could convince the head boy to field most of the Malfoy drama that was guaranteed to arise.
Speaking of, she wondered who had been selected. Her first thought was Harry, but he'd already told her he hadn't been selected. It was probably for the best seeing as how he was going through so much. With Voldemort well and truly gone, no one trying to kill him around every corner, he could finally focus on doing well in his studies. His marks had been average throughout their years, understandable given the circumstances. This was seventh year though, and there was no dire situations. He needed to buckle down. Not to mention the whole Ginny debacle.
She'd been enamored with him since before she properly met him, and he'd thought he felt something too. They got together soon after that final battle but quickly learned that it wasn't meant to be. Ginny realized that her childhood adoration hadn't translated into true affections, and Harry realized that what he felt was a natural interest but not really anything. They had agreed splitting was the best thing to do but that didn't mean it was easy or clean. Neither wanted to hurt the other, and the resulting tiptoeing around each other made it incredibly awkward for them and anyone with them. The only one happy with the situation was Ron, who had never appreciated his best friend and his only little sister snogging behind his back.
Oh Ron, she thought wistfully. You big idiot. You were so worried about what was happening behind your back that you never stopped to see what was in front of you. She'd harbored latent feeling for her ginger friend since he'd tried to curse Malfoy for calling her a mudblood. It'd backfired of course, and he'd spent the next two nights with his head in a bucket collecting puke slugs, but still. It was the thought that counted. He'd stood up for her at a time when she'd been her most vulnerable. That mattered.
Unfortunately, it seemed to be a one sided affection. Ron had never given her any hint that he was felling what she did, and yet she'd held tight to her crush, unwilling to give up on him. She was so sure that if he'd just been given the time to realize what they could have, he'd return her sentiments and they could try to have something real. She'd even thought he might've been jealous of Viktor, innocent as their relationship was. But he was actually just acting out of some sort of territorial nonsense, thinking he had a right to say who she saw or snogged. It disappeared as soon as the Durmstrang boys left, ans she was once again alone in her secret admiration.
That had all changed this summer though. During one of the many celebration parties they'd attended, when they were both drunk on this new found freedom and punch that Fred and George had spiked when no one was looking, they'd surrendered their innocence to one another. It had been a sweaty, rushed affair, with a lot of sloppy kissing and a handful of shallow thrusts from Ron's end before he'd collapsed beside her and soon fell asleep. She remembered a distinct feeling of disappointment, like a balloon that you'd expected to pop but had instead simply lost all of it's inflation. She'd cast a quick contraceptive charm as well as a scourgify, but she couldn't help thinking, That's it? That's what all the fuss has been about? I've had charms lessons more exhilarating than that... She chalked it up to first time nerves, and curled up beside Ron happy to dream of what they were starting. Only, apparently they weren't starting anything. Ron had woken up mortified, and shaken her awake with his hand covering his eyes. "Merlin Hermione, I am so sorry. The punch must have had something in it. You have to believe, I'd have never..." But that was all she needed to hear. He regretted their night together, and admitted that it never would've happened if they'd been sober. So even though her heart was shattering for her ruined dreams, she pulled on her dress and her best smile and reassured Ron that she didn't blame him, that there was no blame to place. They were both drunk right? It didn't have to become a thing if they didn't want it to.
So he'd happily gone back to being one of her two best friends, and she went back to gather the splintered bits of her heart and find a way to piece them together again. It would have been easier if she could hate him, if he'd done anything on purpose to hurt her. But in the end she only had herself to blame for holding on when she should've let go. The worst part was having no one to talk to about it. She couldn't very well tell Ron, and Harry had enough to deal with. Ginny would listen but it felt wrong to talk to the younger girl about a drunken one night stand with her brother. No, this was one hurt she'd have to sort out herself.
She was so lost in her thoughts and memories that she hadn't even noticed when the compartment filled with her peers. a calm but firm "Miss Granger" snapped her out of her reverie. It had come from the stern teacher she had come to regard as a pseudo mother during her time at school. "Now that I have everyone's attention," Professor McGonagall said with a look at Hermione that was half chastising half fond, "I'd like to get down to business. It has taken much longer than it should have for you all to make your way here and as such, we are short on time. Let us discuss your duties and get to it, shall we?" The reprimand in her tone was clear, and everyone opened the scrolls they'd been given with no hesitation.
It was a long list of requirements for each role, particularly for the Head Boy and Head Girl, but Hermione was secretly quite pleased. Losing herself in her studies and her duties had always been a good distraction for her. Godric knew she could use some of that about now. She'd decided on the way to Kings Cross that it was time for her to move on let the torch that she'd carried for Ron all these years die out. Which was much easier said that done, she'd discovered. Head Girl responsibilities was just what the mediwitch ordered.
It was only as McGonagall dismissed the group to get changed into their robes since they were only fifteen minutes from Hogwarts that she realized she didn't know who her fellow Head was. "Professor!" She called, and watched as the teacher turned back to her with a patient but weary expression. "Yes, Miss Granger?" said the tired elder witch.
"I'm sorry to hold you up, ma'am. It's only that I didn't hear you announce who Head Boy is. I'd like to arrange some scheduling with him as soon as possible."
"Trying to get me alone under the guise of paperwork? Seems a bit beneath you, Granger." She turned to look at the smirking face of Malfoy as she took in what he said, and remembered the knowing amused look he'd had before the meeting. As it all fell together in her mind, she turned with a look of abject horror back to her teacher as she raised her hand in a halting motion and said sternly, "Crass as his introduction may have been, Mr. Malfoy is telling the truth. He is our Head Boy for this coming year. Ah ah-" she cut Hermione off as she began to protest, "I do not wish to her your objections Miss Granger. Mr. Malfoy has shown himself to be a fine young man and he is who the staff has unanimously decided shall be Head Boy. If you have any further objections, you may always resign from your position. If not, the two of you will meet me in by the stairs after dinner and I will show you to your dormitories."
Hermione just stared as she walked away like she hadn't just dropped a massive bomb. Malfoy was Head Boy. They were to share living quarters. Separate bedrooms of course, but a shared bathroom, kitchenette, and living space. She felt a shoulder brush past hers, and heard the newly rough voice of her counterpart chuckle, "I told you this was going to be fun, Granger."
She glowered at him, but he merely tossed her a wink and sauntered back towards his cabin to change. If she wasn't mistaken, there was a hint of jauntiness in the smug pricks gait.
Fucking hell, she thought miserably, so much for my perfect year.
A/N: Hey guys! Just a quick caveat. I know this is the second chapter in one day, but the normal up date speed will NOT be as frequent. I'm off work today and spilling it out as it comes, but I do have to get back to work and will therefore have less time to write. I will most likely put out a chapter a week. Enjoy!