The war had been over for almost a year. No one had realised it would take quite so long to repair the Castle, although, admittedly, it was a mighty big castle. On an early morning in late July, a pack of Owls flocked No. 12. They were carrying letters from Hogwarts. The writing was sharp and upright. It screamed of Professor McGonagall. They were thicker than usual, especially for Hermione. She opened her letter, sitting at the end of Harrys bed. Harry's letter lay at his side unnoticed. He was too engrossed in the "utter beauty" of his moth eaten quilt cover. Madame Pomfrey had to up his dosage of Calming Draught.

Hermione scanned the page, with both a feeling of dread and excitement. The school year was to resume for all previous students. Hogwarts would be accepting the usual First Years too, so the school would be more packed than usual. Hermione pulled the rest of the parchment from her envelope. A golden badge fell and slid across the floor and came to a stop next to Ron's foot.

"Ron, could you pass that back to me, please?" Hermione asked. He didn't answer; he just turned red and looked away. His attitude hadn't improved at all, in fact, it had gotten worse. "Oh honestly Ron, grow up." She stood, strode to where he was standing and picked it up herself.

Ron burst out. "You're not my wife; stop telling me what to do."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Her heart and mind, protecting her sanity had blessed her with the ability to place all the feelings she had for him into the back of her mind, where the doors were barricaded until he matured and grew a sense of sympathy. Ron was by no means a mean-spirited person; he was just very emotionally immature.

Hermione finally looked at her badge. In scarlet red, curly font were the two letters 'H.G.'

She couldn't believe it! She'd made Head Girl! She'd been dreaming of this day since she had first read about it in Hogwarts: A History. She jumped up and down excitedly. Ron turned on his heel and left the room. Harry looked up and smiled absent mindedly at Hermione.

Her happiness slowly faded. She didn't really have anyone to celebrate with. Her parents didn't know she existed, Ron was a moron, Harry was coked up on drugs and the rest of the Wesley's were still in heavy mourning.

She trudged slowly up the stairs to the hidden library Malfoy had discovered. Ever since that event, they had shared the Library, neither saying a word to each other, but accepting each others quiet company. Hermione was okay reading with Malfoy in the room, as long as he wasn't insulting her. Ever since his parents had left to move back to their manor, Malfoy had become far more tolerable. He no longer called her Mudblood, but gave her the generous previous title of 'Granger.'

As she entered, she found him sitting in his usual high-backed chair, perfect posture as always, with a book resting neatly on his lap. He looked up as she entered, gave her a curt nod and returned to his book.

Between them, they had read almost the entire library within the year, the only shelves left untouched were the very top ones, which Hermione could in no way reach and Malfoy could barely close his fingers around the bottom edge. Hermione scanned the shelves for a while, before spotting a very interesting looking book on the topmost shelf. "Etiquette and Manners of the Modern Pureblood. Revised Edition 1908." It looked like it hadn't been touched since then. But of course, this was the Black family household. Above everyone, no mere book would tell them how to act. Glancing quickly at Malfoy to make sure he wasn't watching, she took out her wand and slowly levitated out. Unfortunately it had been wedged in between the other books for so long, five or six others toppled down on top of Hermione, narrowly missing her. The Etiquette book was still gliding down slowly, almost comically beneath the barrage of dust that was assaulting Hermione's lungs. She rushed out of the cloud of dust into the back of the library to catch her breath. There was a dull thud behind her as the Etiquette book finally reached the floor. After she heaved in lungfuls of fresh air, she turned around and expected to be faced with the prospect of cleaning her mess up, however the dust was gone and the books were back on their shelves. Malfoy was standing in front of her, holding out the Etiquette book, his face emotionless. Hermione took it from him, speechless. He turned to return to his chair.

"Thank you." She said quietly. Malfoy inclined his head in acknowledgement and said "That's quite an interesting book. We have one back in the Manor. It was written before Muggleborns were considered lower-class. But we also have the second edition. The 1909 one, opinions changed with that." And he returned to his own book.

Hermione stood in the same spot for a while, wondering about the little interaction. Malfoy had been acting very different lately, almost Gentlemanly. What was his angle? Hermione contemplated his ulterior motives as she moved across the room and sat in her normal soft, but not too soft chair to read.

She searched through the contents. There were chapters relating to How to Treat a Lady and How to Treat a Gentleman, different sections for men and women. She flipped to the How to Treat a Lady chapter, glancing up to make sure Malfoy wasn't looking. But he seemed to be oblivious to anything around him, so engrossed was he in his book.

This chapter seemed to strike cords in Hermione's memory, some of the Etiquette rules here had been applied to her recently by Malfoy and she was sure that if she looked through the chapters on friendships with other men, she'd find examples of the politeness exhibited by Malfoy to the rest of the inhabitants of No.12. It seemed as though Malfoy was trying to prove himself to them all. He was trying to show his noble side, though he obviously didn't really know how to go about it. Nobility wasn't in a book, though any girl would swoon for the things in this book, the perfect gentleman. She was halfway through the book when she glanced at her watch. It was 2.30 in the morning. Just a few more pages, she thought.

She awoke suddenly as the door of the Library closed. She looked up confused. When had she fallen asleep? Malfoy had re-entered. "You're still here?" he said surprised.

"It's only 2.30 in the morning." She said groggily as she tried to sit up. She had a bad pain in her neck, due to the position she'd been in.

"No, Granger, it's noon. You must have slept here all night." He sat back down in his chair.

Hermione sat up a bit more. She realised she was covered in a coat of sorts. She distinctly remembered there was something in that book about covering a Lady if she was cold. Hermione ignored this. As she pushed the coat off of her, there was a clatter and a gold badge fell out of one of the pockets. She caught a glimpse of it. It had the letters H.B. written in cursive green on the front. Malfoy picked it up and put it in his pocket.

"I'm going to go to bed for some proper sleep." She didn't really know why she was telling Malfoy this; her excuse was just light conversation. Malfoy looked like he was considering standing during her departure, but thought it too formal and just gave her a nod and a "Goodnight Granger."

So… Malfoy was Head Boy, was he? Oh this year would be interesting indeed.