~*The Passion of a Dragon*~

By: xKatx

Author's Notes: Welcome to my story! I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing it. Yes, it is a WIP, but I'm moving along with the plot so it'll all be out soon! please read and review and let me know if this is worth continuing. I love you guys tons!
Disclaimer: I don't own HP stuff—I'd be in the mountains right now if I did—I own everything you don't recognize.

Characters You Will Meet In This Chapter:
Mrs. Granger, Muggle mother of Hermione

Harry James Potter, The Boy Who Lived, only son of Lily and James Potter, Hermione's best friend

Ronald Edward Weasley, youngest son of Arthur and Molly Weasley, Hermione's best friend

Virginia Anne Weasley, youngest daughter of Arthur and Molly Weasley, Hermione's best friend

Seamus Andrew Finnigan, best friend to Hermione and her other friends

Parvati Penelope Patil, best friend to Hermione and her other friends

Lavender Angelica Brown, best friend to Hermione and her other friends

~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~

Hermione slept the entire night through without another nightmare. She awoke at nine-thirty just as she planned, rolling out of bed when the alarm gave a shrill whistle at her. She managed to successfully shower without falling asleep, which was quite a feat for her, considering she was definitely not a morning person. She made her way from the bathroom to her room, a little more awake than she had been previously. She pulled on a pair of low-slung, hip-hugging, faded, bootcut jeans, a black belt with cities of Europe written in scratchy white writing across it, and a clingy black halter-top that exposed half an inch of her tanned waistline. She pulled on several silver bangle bracelets and silver hoop earrings. By the time she applied her smokey eyeshadow and nude lipstick with gloss, she was fully awake. She had just pulled on her black boots when her mother called up the stairs.

        "Hermione!" Mrs. Granger called, "You have fifteen minutes to get down here and eat!"

        "Okay!" Hermione called back. She had just enough time to do her hair before having to eat breakfast and leave for the train station.

She quickly straightened her hair with a straightening iron, letting it fall thinly against her face. She shut off the iron, wrapped the cord around it, and put it into the trunk with a few other last minute things. She let out a long sigh before looking around her room. This was the last time she'd see it before being a Hogwarts graduate. She smiled as she left her room, heading down stairs to breakfast with her parents before her departure.

~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~

Hermione stood with her arms folded across her chest as she waited on Platform 9 ¾ for her friends to arrive. She was somewhat nervous, unaware of what their reactions would be; Harry's especially. She was best friends with them all, there was no doubt about that. But she had always, and probably would always be closest with Harry. There was an unspoken bond between the two of them that was completely undeniable.

She twirled an end of her hair between two fingers as she sighed. She hoped they wouldn't hate her new look; would they think she looked too different?

        Will you stop worrying? she told herself, You'll find out soon enough.

        "Hermione?" A disbelieving voice asked from behind her. She turned around to see…

        "Harry, Ron, Ginny," she said, smiling at each in turn. They looked more different than even she could have imagined. Harry James Potter had grown into a well-built man. At six-foot-two, his broad-shouldered chassis was rippled with muscles aquired by six years of Quidditch. He'd cut his black hair short, and had more fashionable, silver-framed glasses. The eighteen year old Gryffindor Quidditch Captain was different in every way except for his broad smile and sparkling emerald green eyes.
Ronald Edward Weasley had changed a fair amount as well. Long gone was the long and lanky boy Hermione had once known. Towering at an impressive six-foot-three, his shoulders were not as broad as Harry's, but he was equally as muscular. Quidditch had done wonders for the two boys' physiques, and it showed. Ron's face had grown to match the size of his once oversized nose. His red hair was cut short as well, and his blue eyes reflected his shock at Hermione's changed silhouette.

Hermione noticed Ginny next. Sixteen year old Virginia Anne Weasley was the shortest of the group, reaching a small five-foot-six and a half. She was thin and a bit pale, but she had her fair share of curves. She'd grown her red locks long, with natural waves throughout it. Her blue eyes were open in shock at Hermione.

        "You look…" Harry stuttered, not being able to finish his sentence. Hermione knew what he meant, though.

        "You look… too," she replied with a grin. Harry, Ron, and Ginny each smiled, relaxing as they realized Hermione was still Hermione; no make-up or training could change her.

        "I'm so happy to see you guys," she said, before hugging them each, noticing Harry's and Ron's arms were significantly stronger than they had been.

        "Oh my goodness," Ginny said when they hugged, "It is going to be so much fun to dress you up for balls this year!"

Hermione laughed with her friends as they got their trunks and such into the train and located a large, vacant compartment near the back of the train.

~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~*x*~

        "So you did all of this over summer?" Ginny questioned after the four had settled themselves in the compartment.

Hermione crossed her legs and leaned her left elbow on her knee, her chin on that hand, "Yeah, pretty much. It took me about a month to get used to showing my stomach!"
Ginny giggled and the boys looked at her strangely.

        "A month? Hermione, when you wear a bikini you show your stomach," Harry commented.

She smirked at him and winked, "I'd never worn a bikini until this summer."

Harry and Ron nodded, "Ahh," they said, "Well that could explain it."

They four spent the next fifteen minutes recounting their summers in detail until they felt the train lurch forward, slowly gaining speed. They were on their way to Hogwarts for the last time, and it was a somewhat sober thought.

Seconds later, the compartment door slid open.

        "Oy! Girls! I found them!" Seamus Andrew Finnigan's Irish voice called before he stuck his face in. Hermione could hardly believe that this was Seamus Finnigan--he looked so different! At eighteen years old, Seamus had short cut brown hair and playful brown eyes. Of the boys, he was the shortest at an even six feet. He had narrower shoulders than Harry did, and fewer muscles, but he was still impressive.

        "Blimey, tooks us fourteen tries to find you," he told them as he slid the door open further and strode in. Seconds later, Lavender Angelica Brown appeared in the doorway.

Ron gulped. Eighteen year old Lavender had long brown hair that flowed past her shoulders, and friendly brown eyes. She was about five-foot-seven and a half, and was a little rounder then Hermione and Ginny were, but she still had her share of curves. She grinned at them.

        "Oh my gosh, you guys!" She exclaimed as she looked on her friends. Hermione was pleased to see the shock in both Lavender and Seamus' faces. It was exactly the reaction she'd wanted.

        "Oh sure, desert me you two," Parvati's voice said as she entered the compartment. Eighteen year old Parvati Penelope Patil had long brown hair and blue eyes that snapped and sparkled when she laughed. She was five-foot-eight, and thin with absolutely no curves at all. Her skin was slightly tanned and she had a pretty smile.

        "Hermione! Oh my gosh you look fantastic!" Parvati gasped, hugging her friend.

Several more hugs were passed around before everyone settled down. Harry and Ginny (holding hands, mind you), Ron, and Lavender sat on one bench, and Hermione, Seamus, and Parvati sat on the other. It was slightly cramped, but they were willing to deal with it.

        "So, when did you two hook up?" Parvati asked, motioning to Harry and Ginny's entwined hands. Harry blushed and Ginny rolled her eyes.

        "Right before the Quidditch World Cup," she said, "Honestly, I don't know why you still blush over that," she informed her beau, who shrugged.

Hermione watched this exchange with a warm smile. Those two clicked like no other couple she'd ever seen, and she was glad Harry had finally gotten the courage to voice his harbored feelings. Hermione was glad Ginny reciprocated--if this was how he acted when they were dating, she would have hated to see him if Ginny had said no.

The majority of the train ride passed in the same friendly fashion; Hermione, however, couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy. Harry and Ginny exchanged glances that only Hermione seemed to notice, and the tension between Lavender and Ron and Parvati and Seamus was thick enough to cut with a dull knife. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see they were attracted to each other--the only ones who didn't seem to notice it was them.

Hermione crossed her legs again and rested her chin on her hand. She was sick of being alone--each of them had or was finding someone, and she was the seventh wheel; as always.

Luckily, she was saved from her thoughts of self-pity by a stuttering young Gryffindor second year who knocked on the compartment door and came in.

        "I-i-is there a H-h-hermione G-granger in h-here?" The young, freckled, green-eyed, red-haired girl asked.

Hermione nodded, sitting forward, "Yes," she replied.

        "P-p-professor M-m-G-gonagall w-would l-like to s-see you in her c-c-compart-m-ment."

        "I'm coming," Hermione replied.

The young girl nodded as Hermione gave her a warm smile. Seconds later, the girl darted back out of the compartment and shut the door.

        "Were we really that small?" Lavender pondered.

        "It's hard to imagine these two brutes as small," Ginny said, motioning to Ron and Harry.

        "Hey!" Seamus objected, looking indignant.

Parvati patted his shoulder sympathetically, "You were a shrimp until sixth year, Seamus--we still remember that."

Everyone laughed as Hermione left, telling them she'd be back in a few minutes. She grinned to herself; she had the best friends anyone could ever ask for, and she was glad to have one more year with them.

She continued to think of this as she made her way down the corridor of the train, heading toward Professor McGonagall's compartment. She heard a compartment door open ahead of her to her right, and a second later a tall man stepped out of the compartment.
A black button-up shirt with its sleeves rolled up to the elbow covered his broad-shouldered, extremely toned torso. Hermione didn't have to see his bare chest to see he was very muscular. His sinewy forearms were the tiniest bit tan, and he was tall—Hermione guessed he was six-foot-one or so. His face was somewhat narrow; he had high, regal, masculine cheekbones, his eyes the color of thick melted steel, and his silvery-blonde hair slicked back away from his face. He had full lips that were just the tiniest bit red, and his posture was straight.

        "Malfoy," she said, conjuring up as much contempt in her voice as possible. He was the last person she wanted to see—not that he was difficult to look at anymore.

He cocked an eyebrow at her, before the familiar smirk graced his lips, "Granger," he said, her name rolling off his tongue ingratiatingly. It sent a shiver down her spine, but she refused to show any discomfort.

Draco Trysten Malfoy couldn't believe the woman standing in front of him; there was no way that was Hermione Granger--bossy, know-it-all, goody-goody extraordinare. This woman in front of him was gorgeous; one of the more beautiful creatures he'd ever seen. She was only five inches shorter than he was, with beautiful golden brown skin and long straight brown hair, honey colored streaks throughout it. Her brown eyes (normally rather friendly) snapped with malice at him. He had to remind himself to keep his mouth shut when he looked her up and down. The clingy black halter top hugged her curvy waist and hit a good half an inch above her waistline, exposing more golden skin. Her jeans hugged her hips and clung to her long legs. Overall, she was captivating.

        "And I thought I would be spared of you this year," she hissed caustically. It shocked him how such a displeased comment could come from such a beautiful woman and flow in such a melodious voice. However, he roughly shoved these thoughts from his mind, remembering this was Mudblood Granger he was admiring.

        "Sorry to ruin your hopes," he informed her, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "But I'm still here."

        "Damn to hell whoever let you back in school after what you did last year," she glared fire, and he swore her eyes flashed a deep purple. He wondered if that happened every time she got angry.

        "Then you'd be damning our own Minister of Magic," he purred condescendingly, giving her an evil smirk, "Because he was the one who agreed to let me, and half of the Slytherins, back in."

        "Then I damn the Minister of Magic," she replied, crossing her arms and staring bitterly at him.

He shrugged, putting his hands in the pockets of his black pants, "Who you damn or not is of no concern of mine," he told her, sauntering closer, "After all, anyone not in your good graces is in for it anyway. You fight awfully."

        "That'll prove to you never to cross me," she said, "I do hope it left a scar."

Draco, in one smooth movement, lifted his shirt, revealing a silvery-black streak halfway across his impressively buff chest.

        "Your hopes, this time, weren't ruined," he replied splenetically, "You left one."

Hermione's brown eyes took in the scar and she almost felt a pang of guilt. However, it was quickly replaced with a strange sense of pride.

        "The real question is, however," she said, moving closer to him, her eyes flashing a dangerous violet as he lowered his shirt, "Did you learn anything from it?"

        "Tut, tut, tut," he reprimanded her, their faces only about five inches apart, "You of all people should know never to speak like that to a pureblood."

        "What? Going to sic your cronies on me?" She whispered, her lips dangerously close to his.

        "I think in your case, I would handle you personally," he whispered deeply in reply. He looked into her eyes, their color slowly returning to their normal, chocolate color. He felt something constrict in his chest, but shook the feeling away.

        "Glad to know I'd only be 'handled' by one filthy Slytherin," she replied. Her warm breath was on his cheeks, and he began to have problems containing his emotions. She was beautiful—the thought that she was a Mudblood and had nearly killed him one year previously.

        "Even if that Slytherin was yours truly?"

She looked up into his cold gray eyes and narrowed hers, "If I had a choice between them and you…" she paused, looking him up and down, "I'd pick you. But if I had the choice between death and you," she slid one slim finger down his chest, seeing that she was getting to him and wanting to have a little fun, "Death would be a sweet release."

And with that, she moved past him toward Professor McGonagall's compartment.