A/N: Hiiiii! I'm back! *ducks under the table

I'm sorry for the radio silence, guys. I was busy looking for a job and now, I am going to more busy because *drumroll please!* I have a job! Woohooo! I'm a working girl so, I have a lot of responsibilities. Thank you for your patience in waiting for me to update this story. I promise you guys that this will not be abandoned, ever. I just need to work around my schedule so that I can write this fanfic. Anyway, I will not bore you with my life story and allow you to read this. I hope you enjoy! Do let me know what you like, what you don't like, what can be improved, and whatever you wish to say! I appreciate all kinds of reviews and responses from you guys because you rock!

Love, love, love,

BlueLilyLilyBlue

"You're welcome…Hermione."

"…anger."

"…welcome…Hermione."

"Mi…Gran…"

"…Hermione."

"Miss…nger!"

"Hermione."

"Miss Granger!"

The brunette witch in question sprung ram-rod straight in her seat, chocolate-Brown eyes wide in shock at being caught uncharacteristically inattentive. Her initial reaction turned apologetic and shamefaced as Professor Vector looked at her in a mixture of bemusement and disappointment. Around her, she could hear the lull of whispers and giggles of her classmates but, she paid them no mind as she was growing rather apprehensive knowing that she might have earned Gryffindor's first point deduction for the day.

"This is all because of that stupid, arrogant, egotistic, Blonde albino! He's going to cost me my Head Girl badge because of what he did!" She mentally seethed, biting the inside of her cheek to keep her face from screwing up into an inelegant scowl befitting that of a Goblin.

"Miss Granger, while it is still early in the year, I do hope that you know that every lesson that I teach in class has the potential to appear on your NEWT exam. If you do not wish to fail, do try to keep your head out of the clouds and pay attention. I expected more of you, being the Head Girl." The Professor chided, clucking her tongue and shaking her head in sheer displeasure. Hermione ducked her head in mortification and as her classmates began to twitter, enjoying the rare show of dismay of the older witch towards her favourite student.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for the lack of attention." The older witch announced, much to the brunette witch's horror. In the wake of the Professor's enunciation, the few Slytherins that were taking up Arithmancy were beyond giddy. They were always ecstatic when one of the so-called "Golden Trio" was at the brunt of any professor's anger but, they absolutely love it when it was her.

"Great job, Hermione. It hasn't been a week and you're already out of it. For the smartest witch of the age, you're pretty stupid, letting that annoying git occupy your thoughts. He isn't worth it. Got it? He isn't worth stressing about, nope. He's just going out of his way to provoke you and you shouldn't fall for it." She inwardly lectured, cringing slightly as the voice in her head sounded much like Molly Weasley during one of her infamous tirades. It seemed that hearing the Weasley Matriarch's stern and tad overbearing voice worked wonders on her as thoughts of the morning's event dissipated from her mind although it didn't escape her notice that the debacle with her best – sorry, that's ex-best friend with his…girlfriend has been pushed to the recesses of her mind as it had been filled with her very disturbing encounter with a certain Slytherin. She almost groaned as yet again, her head was skirting towards that train of thought.

For the life of her, she didn't even understand why she was even thinking about it. She had wanted to have some peace and quiet, even just for a few minutes but, she had the misfortune of bumping into him, of all people. At first, she was giving him attitude and sass but, the next thing she knew, she was pressed against the wall, his deliciously, sinful body – wait, did she just say that?! Dear, sweet Merlin, she was going mental! She resisted the urge to hit her head on her table, repeatedly, for the traitorous notion swimming in her head. Sure, she knew that he was the most desirable boy to the eyes of many of the female population and homosexuals at school but, it never crossed her mind that she would think so, too.

Was she just like the rest of the girls here? Allowing some pretty boy (she begrudgingly admitted) to distract her? No, she decided. She will not allow someone, especially Draco Malfoy, to taint her perfect school record and seamless cognitive functions. He'd already cost her more than she wanted, not that he knew nor would she ever want him to know, certain that if he had gotten hold of that particular information, he would do everything in his power to tease her and smirk at her with his notorious shit-eating grin. No, Hermione Granger would rather cut off her arm than to permit him to plague her thoughts. It's bad for her mental state.

"…next week. You're all dismissed." Professor Vector concluded, the bell ringing as soon as the last syllable fell out of her lips.

Once again, she was jolted out of her musings as the cacophony of her classmates' chatter, the rustling of parchment and books. She stared, bewildered, as the bustling of life surrounded her, the brilliance of her mind catching up as she realized that she drifted off and missed the remainder of the lecture. Hiding her panic, she gathered her things, noticing that she barely written down any notes except for a few key points at the beginning of the lesson. Quickly, she stuffed her things inside her ever-enduring satchel and hefted it on her shoulder, scampering out of the classroom in hopes for her lingering thoughts to leave her and remain inside the recently vacated chamber. It helped a little as the noise levels were at an all-time high and students were rushing towards their next class.

Being squished, squashed, jostled, and almost stamped on was nothing new to her and while it should have annoyed her like it always do, she welcomed it. She wanted other thoughts to consume her mind and it was a rather effective remedy for her aberrant behaviour. She needed a clear head for her next class, which happens to be Charms. She didn't want a repeat of her earlier blunder – she's got a reputation to uphold although she was far too sure that her Slytherin classmates already disseminated the play-by-play of her episode in Arithmancy and sure enough, several people were throwing her amused looks and snickers as well as mild look of curiosity with hints of sympathy. The last bit profoundly unsettled her. She didn't understand what that expression was for but, she immediately caught up when she heard two third years murmuring about yet another of her affair, this time at the Great Hall. She wasn't astounded that the rumour mill was working twice as fast as Lavender spreads her legs open to any eligible wizard.

She snorted at that. The girl spreads her overused vagina faster than anything for anyone with ball sacks and a functioning penis. She couldn't, for the life of her, understand why in Merlin and Morgana's name did Ron hook-up with her. She was hardly "girlfriend" material and more along the lines of common slag and "frustration dumpster".

"Got the brains of one, too." She mentally considered, smirking viciously.

Perhaps the reason why Ron chose Lavender was because they were intellectually compatible or probably genetically programmed to find each other. Both of them have the attention span of a teaspoon and the emotional range of a door knob. They can hardly talk about anything other than Quidditch, Wizarding celebrities, and useless garbage from Witch Weekly. It's a miracle that they both passed their OWLs and sixth year NEWTs. Well, it's not really a miracle, per se and more of her patience, concern, and loyalty to her friends.

Speaking of friends, now that Ron had bungled everything in their relationship, she no longer has the obligation to help him with his assignments and projects. There's no need for her to stay up later than she normally do just to proofread his odiously written paragraphs and arguments, no need to lecture him for yet another misunderstood Charm or Transfiguration theory, and absolutely no need for her to hand him her much coveted notes for exams on any subject or elective. She can finally have more time to revise her essays, research theories, and maybe, take up an apprenticeship program with Professor McGonagall or Professor Vector. The most scrumptious deal of all is that she no longer has to deal with any mess Ron will do. Of course, she knows that any floundering on his part will evidently affect her House but, it all boils down to him and his lack of common sense.

He is not her problem, not anymore. She's more than happy to let Lavender take the mantle of caring for him. It will surely be a spectacle to watch the both of them screw up.

"What the hell are you grinning about? That expression on your face is fit for a manic, serial murderer." A lilting female voice articulated from beside her and Hermione twisted to see Padma Patil walking beside her, eyebrows raised inquiringly. The brunette blinked in surprise at the appearance of the Ravenclaw, obviously waiting for her to answer her question.

"How long have you been beside me?" She asked.

"Since the moment you walked out of Arithmancy. You're so out of it that you didn't even notice me. Anyway, what was that about?" The Indian girl replied, slinking closer to her as she avoided a trio of second years making their way, mindlessly, to Merlin knows where.

"What are you talking about?" The Head Girl probed as she turned around the corner.

"Don't play coy with me. You were hardly paying attention during class. Hell, ten points was taken off of Gryffindor because you're mentally absent. Is this about the morning's incident?" Padma queried, magnificently keeping up with the brunette's pace. Hermione almost faltered, not because at the mention of her spat with two of her Housemates but, because of the event that followed it. She almost wanted to throttle the Ravenclaw witch for reminding her. She was becoming successful at filing away the distressing encounter, only to have it resurface at the forefront of her mind.

"No." She ground out evenly and crisply, hoping beyond hope that the girl would drop it. She didn't.

"You almost convinced me if it weren't for your face." The tan witch retorted, cheekily.

She could feel her patience wearing thin. Nothing was going the way she wanted it. The day wasn't even halfway from over and she was already feeling miserable. She has half the mind to keep her silence but, the other half of her wanted to scream all of her frustration and confusion to Padma. The girl is a good listener and a wise confidant. She and Ginny have this uncanny ability to say the right things at the right time although both of them can be tactless and nosy when their right buttons were pressed. Whenever their buttons were pushed, there's no stopping them and this moment is an appropriate and prime example.

"There's nothing wrong with my face." She countered, hotly.

"There. Right there. That's what's wrong." Padma pointed at the crease between her brows and she consciously touched the wrinkled skin.

"Fine lines and crinkly skin is hardly a problem." The brunette remarked, snootily.

"Stop being obtuse! You're obviously troubled by Ron dating Lavender!" The Indian whinged at her, blocking her way by throwing her body in front of the affronted Head Girl, hands raised to her side forming a T, inefficiently and ineffectively halting the brunette from her tracks.

"I'm not obtuse and I simply chose to ignore to acknowledge your faulty contestation." Hermione said, coolly, rounding the other girl and resumed her trek towards the Charms classroom.

"Wha – Wait! So, it doesn't bother you?" Her friend hollered after her, jogging swiftly in order to catch up to the curly-haired witch.

"Shouting is prohibited in the hallways and no, it doesn't." She responded primly, inwardly screaming for any higher being to strike the persistent Ravenclaw and leave her in peace.

"Then, what's got you all distracted? It's so unlike you and I bet you didn't even know that we have an assignment due next Tuesday." Padma informed, grabbing Hermione's wrist, prompting the brunette to jerk to a stop. The Head Girl stopped and sighed.

"You really aren't going to drop this, are you?" She grumbled.

"No. You know me better than that. Besides, we both know that if you don't freaking tell me, Ginny would grill you and I think I can say it for the both of us that it won't be pretty." The girl pointed out, giving a knowing stare. She groaned.

"I should have known that she has something to do with this." The curly-haired witch mumbled grouchily, massaging two fingers on her temple.

"Well, what do you expect? In case it escaped your brilliant mind, we happen to be your best girl friends and what do girl friends do best? Gossips, fashion, make-up tips, and most importantly, being extremely pushy when one friend is being extremely hard-headed. So, 'fess up, Granger. Otherwise, Ginny and I will gang up on you and even I can say that you can't handle the both of us when we really push it." Padma professed, stance confident as she crossed her arms to her chest, eyebrows cocked upward, and dark eyes twinkling challengingly. The two girls stared at each other, well, she glared while her annoyingly persistent friend looked on at her as if they both have all the time in the world.

She was tempted to just walk away and be on her merry way to her next class but, if she did that, she would have Padma trailing behind her the whole day, driving her mad by being steadfast and if she didn't crack, she would eventually haul Ginny and they will both corner her until she spilled whatever was bugging her.

"Ugh, fine!" Hermione relented, throwing her hands in the air. Padma looked at her as if she won the lottery and the Head Girl wanted nothing more than to wipe the glorious smile on the other girl's face.

"Tell me later. We'll be late for Charms." The Indian girl remarked, grinning impishly as she hauled Hermione by the wrist and made their way to their next class. All the way to the classroom, the brunette was glaring daggers at the back of Padma's head for manhandling her which would have pressured anyone to look back at her, scratch the back of their necks in a repentant gesture, and sheepishly asks for her forgiveness but, Padma isn't just anyone. The girl had gotten used to her hostile glares and grew immune to it.

Normally, she would have put up a fight with anyone who attempted to drag her but, Padma has a strong grip for a seemingly delicate girl. She learned her lesson back in fourth year when she tried to escape the Ravenclaw from grilling her for any dirty gossip regarding Ron in an attempt to embarrass him for his dismal company and insensitivity towards her during the Yule Ball. Of course, she was highly tempted to spill the beans in revenge for his spiteful words to her that fateful night but, her loyalty won out and she refused to divulge any information. When Padma realized that she wouldn't be talking anytime soon, the girl proceeded to ask her about Viktor Krum and at that particular topic, Hermione spilled more than she imagined. When their conversation turned rather spicy, she shied away immediately but, the other girl wasn't having it.

With a deathly grip on her and a hex at the tip of the Ravenclaw's mouth, she confessed all of the clandestine meetings she shared with Viktor in dark corridors, broom closets, and the most sacrilegious of all, within the forgotten bookshelves at the library. By the time they finished their tête-à-tête, Hermione was reminiscent of a ripe tomato whilst Padma was fanning herself, donning a shit-eating smirk. To say that the Indian girl was surprised was an understatement. Never had she imagined that the resident Gryffindor Prude wasn't as innocent and pure as everyone thought. The things she did with the scrumptious Bulgarian Seeker were something out of a racy, romantic novel that every girl wished for. Once Padma had gotten over her inner romanticist, Hermione was smiling lightly, feeling rather like a normal girl.

From then on, it was be a usual occurrence to see both girls together and at times, one of them would interlope at the other's table for a meal. Nobody bats an eyelid at their behaviour for it was a good show of camaraderie and inter-House Unity. At one point, Dumbledore even pointed out their friendship during his speech for the Welcoming Feast on her fifth year. With the professors championing inter-House relations, secret affairs and rapport sprung forth like fungi. The first three months of their fifth year was packed with astonishment from all of the revelations that the students hid from their fellow schoolmates.

Her friendship with Padma wasn't that resilient of a catalyst to cause such an effect but, it seemed to be the nudge that Hogwarts needed to mend the broken bonds among the four Houses. Still, there is tension lingering about but, it isn't as palpable as compared before although, its slowly creeping back for the seventh years are all gearing up to finish their final year with a bout of victory. Add in N.E. and it is a disaster waiting to happen.

"It's already a disaster. Not even a week back and Gryffindor is already lurking at the bottom for the House Cup. Damn you to hell, Ronald. And let's not forget Draco sodding Malfoy, the prat." Hermione thought, bitterly.

"I can practically hear you sulking, Mia." Padma commented, breaking the silence between them. The girl looked over her shoulder to stare at her and Hermione scowled.

"I'm sorry for brooding, Your Highness. I'll try not to do it with you around." She responded, scathingly, wrenching her wrist out of Padma's grip and treaded on the hallway faster.

"Being a complete bitch isn't going to get you out of our conversation later." The Ravenclaw retorted, the sound of her quick footsteps loud against the nearly deserted corridor as she make to keep up with the swift Head Girl.

The brunette didn't reply, opting to stay silent in order to keep herself from exploding in a mixture of feelings. She couldn't, for the life of her, understand why she was being this way. She rarely lost control of her feelings and when that occurred, she can quickly compose herself. It was one of her best qualities, being graceful even under stressful situations but, this is hardly a stressful situation. It shouldn't even be a situation at all.

Yet, here she is, being an utter git. The urge to bash her head to the wall was coming out stronger than before and the universe seemed to be helping her when she crashed into someone for the second time for the morning as she rounded up the last corner to reach the Charms classroom. With her things flying out, she toppled backwards, a scream bubbling over her throat as she fell in an increasingly alarming rate when sturdy arms wrapped around her waist and hoisted her upright. The shriek boiling on her gullet died and replaced by a relieved sigh as she survived the ordeal without pain. Breathing in deeply, her nose twitched as she identified the familiar, soft, seductive cologne of her unsuspecting victim and willing saviour.

Tipping her head upward, her Whiskey-Brown eyes took in the strikingly, sharp jawline, plump lips, elfish cheekbones, aristocratic nose, and star-studded Silver eyes. Slowly and comically, her eyes widened in recognition and her heart stuttered when he pulled her close, their chests touching and Hermione can feel his muscles rippling underneath his clothes. She gulped.

"We've got to stop meeting like this, Granger. One would think that you want to be as close to me as humanly possible." He purred, his voice taking a rather sultry tone and she involuntarily shivered. She watched as a deliberate smile dawned on his lips and she found herself draw at the action, her eyes glued on the ostensibly silky flesh. They moved rather languidly and she was mesmerized at the dance his mouth was doing. Unconsciously, her hand slowly made its way towards the enchanting patch of skin, that is until she heard Padma's voice in the background.

"Oh. My. Godric." The tan girl exclaimed, her mouth hanging open as she caught sight of her in a rather intimate position with Draco Malfoy.

As if waking up from a trance, Hermione snapped in attention, surprise flooding in her system at the sudden interruption before she realized, in horror, whose arms she was in and immediately scrambled away, hurriedly gathering her fallen things and made her way inside the Charms classroom without turning to look at any of the other corridor occupants. Sitting down her usual seat, Hermione dropped her bag unceremoniously on the ground beside her chair and promptly slammed her head onto her desk, startling Harry and Neville. They were talking but, she hardly heard them as the voice inside her head was savagely ripping her apart with snide remarks. Screwing her eyes shut even tighter, she barred the angry tirade out of her mind, the anxiety she was feeling for what surely would be a thorough interrogation from Padma and focused on decelerating her hammering heart. She would lecture herself later for allowing someone like him to distract her but, for now she wanted to curse the world for her predicament and quite, literally, hex Malfoy for even existing.