A/N: Oh look, I got –NO- reviews. Thanks, people. I feel really appreciated. I'm now only continuing this fic because I like it. Otherwise I wouldn't have enough self-esteem to write the first five words…Ok, I'm exaggerating a BIT much, but I do feel unloved.
However, since no one reviewed, I have to use up that space by ranting on and on about nothing much at all. So, I GOT THE HARRY POTTER DVD. Yes, I realize so did just about everyone else in the country, but I don't care. I still have it. It's MINE. Quite literally, too. I was going to buy it with my own money, but I didn't have quite enough, and then I remembered that my mom owed me twenty-five bucks, so she bought it for me instead of paying me the cash. It's MINE. I OWN it. Not my sisters; ME. I did that spellcaster's knowledge thing. Not only did I get perfect, but before they showed the clip, I could tell you what the spell was, what happened in the movie, and what was SUPPOSED to happen (*coughRictumsempracough*). There's another thing that really bugs me. Which does not belong?: Lumos, Nox, Finite Incantatem, Eat Slugs…EXACTLY! Will someone please explain to me how "eat slugs" became a SPELL?
…Just think. If you had reviewed, you wouldn't have had to listen to that rant. Isn't that a great incentive?
DISCLAIMER: It's not mine. I don't own it. I deny everything. Draco and Oliver are NOT locked up inside my closet. Nope. Really. There's nothing at all in there. ;D
Chapter 1
Everyone sat at their table, looking at the Headmaster. The Sorting Ceremony had just finished, and it was time for Dumbledore's annual welcoming address to the students.
"I welcome you here, new students and old, to Hogwarts. I am sure that this year will be, in may ways, much more enjoyable than the past few, since a few, ah, hinderances have been removed." The entirety of the Great Hall looked over at the Gryffindor table, specifically, at Harry Potter. "In that same thread of thought, let us bow our heads for a silent moment to remember those who did not live to see that happy day." All the students and teachers looked at their plates. Some of the many people had tears flowing from their cheeks, thinking of parents, siblings, relatives, and friends who had been killed by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. After a minute, Dumbledore raised his head and resumed his speech. "But let us not move into depression by pitying ourselves. We will look fondly upon the memories of these people, but we shall not let them barricade our lighter emotions. With that said, tuck in." The old man sat down, and food appeared on the four house tables.
"Bloody old coot," said Ron Weasley, helping himself to a rather large serving of mashed potatoes. "Thought he'd never get to the point!"
"Ronald Weasley, how can you say that?" shrieked the voice of a seventeen-year old Head Girl Hermione Granger. "Do you have any idea how many people lost their families over the past few years?"
"Well," he replied while covering his entire plate with gravy, "I'm not sure of the exact number, but I'm sure you've read it in a book somewhere, so you really don't need to ask me."
"But…you…they…grr," was Hermione's only response.
Harry laughed. "Relax, 'Mione."
"But Harry, he's being so insensitive! I should think you would appreciate the need for that speech."
"Yes," said Harry seriously. He turned to look at his red-haired friend, who was busy shoveling gravy-covered green beans into his mouth. "But I also appreciate the need for a good meal!"
Hermione shook her head. She would never understand Harry. It was amazing that one who had suffered so much since his birth could so easily brush aside something with a laugh. And yet, maybe it was because he had suffered so much at a young age that he could live without permanent depression. He hadn't even known his parents. Harry hadn't been around them long enough to grow consciously attached to them. It was merely that instinctive attraction between child and parents that he would have felt.
"So 'Mione, how does it feel to be Head Girl?"
"Honestly Gin, I don't really feel any different. It's a lot like having a birthday. You don't just wake up and feel a year older. It feels the exact same."
Ginny giggled. "I know what you mean. It's the same thing with being a prefect."
"Bloody brainy people," Ron muttered.
"Need I remind you, Ron, that if you actually ever DID your work, you might also be viewed as intelligent?"
"Weasley? Intelligent?" piped Seamus. "Hermione, Ron has about as good of a chance of being seen 'smart' as Neville has of remembering to pack everything for school!"
"As a matter of fact," Neville butted in, "I didn't forget to pack a single thing in my trunk!"
"Good for you, Neville!" said Hermione, smiling at the plump boy.
"Really, Neville?" Dean sounded awestruck.
"Yeah!" he answered. "I just sort of…forgot…to bring my trunk," finished Neville sheepishly. All of Gryffindor table burst into laughter.
Once dinner was over, the prefects led their houses to the respective dormitories and common room. Hermione walked off to Dumbledore's office as she had been asked. As she walked, she glanced at her surroundings. She saw many portraits that she had met before, and waved to them. At the end of one hallway, she noticed a picture she had seen during her third year, and never forgotten. Hermione walked up to the painting. "Sir Cadogan!"
The over-enthusiastic knight raised his visor and bowed. "Gentle Lady, good greeting!"
She blushed at being called 'Lady'. Not that she minded, it was just that she was unaccustomed to being addressed in such a manner. "My name is Hermione, Sir. I see you were moved from your old hanging place."
"Indeed, Lady Hermione. I was asked by the great Headmaster to stand at this post and greet all who came by here." He sounded pleased by this assignment.
"I'm sure it's a very important job. Have you greeted many people so far?"
"The Headmaster, that ruffian gamekeeper, a few prospective teachers, the Minister for Magic (he puffed out his chest importantly at that name), and there was one other just a few minutes ago. Now who was he…?" Cadogan leaned on his sword for a moment and thought. "Ah, yes! The new Head Boy. Not the nicest of chaps, but he seems quite tip-top in the brains department."
"That's wonderful! I would love to stay and chat some more, but I'm late for a meeting with the Headmaster right now."
Sir Cadogan jumped up. "I shall escort you, fair Lady Hermione! Come with me!" He began to walk toward the Headmaster's office, but Hermione stopped him.
"Oh no, it's quite alright. You're needed here! What if someone was to come by, and you weren't here to greet them. You'd be neglecting the task given to you by Professor Dumbledore, and I wouldn't want to lose you your job."
"You are right of course, Lady. I regret I cannot escort you, but duty calls. Farewell, Lady Hermione, and I look forward to our next meeting." The knight bowed to Hermione. She gave a small curtsy before running down the hall to the office.
That man is absolutely mad, but quite entertaining, thought Hermione. I wonder who the Head Boy is? (Like we don't already know)
She reached the gargoyle that blocked the staircase to Dumbledore's office, only to meet the Headmaster practically head-on (dear god that was a bad pun. It was not intended. I apologize). "Professor Dumbledore, I am so sorry I'm late. You see…"
"It is quite alright, Miss Granger, quite alright. Our Head Boy has just run up for a few things I left behind in my office. I thought we could meet outside instead, since it is such a lovely evening, and I could use a nice walk."
"Of course, Professor."
"Ah, here he is now!"
The sound of grinding stone was heard behind them as the gargoyle sprang aside to reveal the staircase. Hermione turned to see the new Head Boy, the person she would be working in collaboration with for the rest of the year, and froze. Oh no. No no no no no. Not HIM. Of all the people in our year, not him!
Standing on the bottom stair, arrogant as ever, a smirk on his face and the papers clutched in his hand, was none other than Draco Malfoy.
A/N: Gee, I'll bet none of you were expecting that, were you? I TOLD you it would be a typical D/Hr story. And when I say typical, I mean TYPICAL. Don't worry; there will be plot twists. I wouldn't bother writing this if it was going to be the EXACT same as the others.
Seeing as no one reviewed, I am still in need of a BETA. I would also like your opinions on the title. It's kind of growing on me, but if you can suggest something better, I might change it.
I've made an executive decision. Well, not really, since it IS just me, but I like using that phrase. This story will be mainly D/Hr, with a side H/G plotline. However, Harry is still going to be the "hero". He just won't be exploited as the main character. Does that make ANY sense???
See you in the next chapter.
REVIEW. PRESS THE PURPLE-ISH BUTTON!
I'm really going to leave soon.
ALL HAIL REVIEWERS.
Seriously, I am going to shut my computer off now.
I LOVE REVIEWS!
*Nice people in white coats drag Aindel away from the keyboard*
…. Riiiiiiiiiight. I'm tired.
Later Days!
Please tell me I didn't just type that.
All readers: (in unison) GO AWAY!
Aindel: Bye!