~*The Passion of a Dragon*~

By: xKatx

Author's Notes: Dummm dee dummm… again, not much to say… :-D

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:

*no new characters*

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"Professor McGonagall, may I borrow Miss Granger?" Professor Dumbledore asked that morning. It was already halfway through Transfiguration, and Hermione had already completed the day's assignments.

        "Of course, Headmaster," Professor McGonagall replied kindly, before turning around, writing something on a slip of parchment. She turned back around and gave it to Hermione.

        "This is the homework. It's due next class."

        "Thank you, Professor. Have a good day."

        "You too, Miss Granger."

Hermione tucked the slip of parchment into a pocket in her bag and waved goodbye to her friends, shrugging at the inquisitive look Harry gave her.

She stepped out into the corridor along with Professor Dumbledore, and followed as he walked toward the Arithmancy classroom.

        "How has your first month been, Miss Granger?" Professor Dumbledore asked pleasantly as they climbed a flight of stairs.
        "Busy, sir," she replied, "But not overwhelming."

        "What do you think about this prophecy of ours?" He questioned, a playful grin on his old, wrinkled face.

        "I think it's ... well it's interesting, sir," she replied, "I'm a little concerned about who the two might be, but I'm sure half of the school is too."

Professor Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, they are quite curious. I've had many students ask me if I knew who the two were."

He let the statement hang, and knew she was struggling with the prospect of asking herself.

        "Surely they know you are not a Seer?" She questioned, and Dumbledore grinned.

        "Well, some of them believe that I do have that specific power, which, you are correct, I don't."

Hermione nodded, "It will be exciting, that's for sure."

        "Ah, yes, it will be. I remember the last time this prophecy came around. The fulfillment was successful, luckily. The previous one hadn't been, so when the students were revealed, I was slightly worried. They were excellent students, full of potential and idealistic prospects for the future. and if they hadn't fulfilled the prophecy, it would have been difficult to lose them."

Hermione nodded, hoping Professor Dumbledore would mention the names. He, however, did not.

They stopped in front of the Arithmancy classroom, and Dumbledore stepped in for a moment, leaving Hermione in the hall. She silently wondered why she'd been pulled out of class, but figured she would find out soon enough.

Seconds later, Dumbledore emerged, a very bored looking Malfoy following behind him.

Hermione gave him a nod, a little apprehensive at the idea of greeting him with a smile just yet. He nodded back, the same apprehension running through his mind. He, however, didn't have a problem stealing glances at her. Today she looked ravishing. Sure, she was wearing the school uniform, and she looked a little pale in the face, but she was still gorgeous. Her hair was curly today, and she'd pulled it into a ponytail, a few tendrils pulled free to frame her face. She wore a silver chain with a four-leaf clover charm on it, she had on three silver rings, and subtle make-up. Overall, she was gorgeous. The vanilla scent that seemed to flow with every movement she made was only an added bonus to his already satiated senses.

He, however, would never voice these admirations or fulfilling traits to her. He still wasn't pleased with the mark she'd left on his chest, and he didn't plan on being pleased with it any time soon. He wasn't even sure it could be removed; it had hit him hard, and it had been Dark Magic she'd used. That fact continued to amaze him; Hermione Granger, goody-two-shoes know it all good girl had used Dark Magic on him. That was something he wouldn't fail to mention the next time the subject came up.

        "Hershey's Kisses," Dumbledore said as they reached the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to his office. Hermione shot a sideways glance at Malfoy, but said nothing. God, how she hated how perfect he was! Not a hair out of place, not a mark on his porcelain face... very masculine porcelain face. His eyes were sharp, and his eyebrows were sleek; his high cheek bones leading down to a full, but somewhat narrow mouth. He had a sharp chin, but it fitted his face nicely. Hermione had witnessed that face bear many different expressions: Pride, every time he won a Quidditch match; anger, every time she beat him in their academics; happiness, whenever Slytherin won the House Cup; and pure evil, the night she scarred him.

She shivered slightly, but remembered too late that he had a keen eye, and caught every little detail of everything. He saw the shiver out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing. He wasn't in the mood to have a row with the Mud--er, Hermione, in front of the Headmaster.

        "Please, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger, take a seat," Dumbledore said, motioning to two purple velvet chairs that appeared out of nowhere. Hermione sat down, impulsively crossing her legs and resting her hands in her lap. Malfoy sat leaned back in his chair, his hands resting on his thighs.

Dumbledore was told a lot by this scene. Only his mind would understand it of course, but by such a simple thing as their posture when sitting, he knew the blunt hatred between them wasn't so blunt anymore.      

        So, it has begun, he thought to himself, but said nothing and expressed no thoughtful expression on his face.

        "I apologize for pulling you out of classes, but with your schedules there was no other time in which to speak with both of you at the same time."

Hermione and Malfoy each nodded, and listened, waiting for the Headmaster to begin.

        "As Head Boy and Girl, you two are responsible for a multitude of things. I haven't mentioned them to you because I wanted your first month to go as smoothly as possible, considering the events that happened last year."

Hermione moved a little in her seat, easily expressing her discomfort with this topic. Malfoy, however, did not move.

        "So now, considering you've had ample time to adjust to school once more, it's time to explain your duties to you."

Dumbledore reached into a drawer to his left, and pulled out a piece of parchment."

        "So, let's see," he said, looking through his spectacles onto the parchment, "Item number one: you will be responsible for planning all balls and functions for the students. The Prefects will have a hand in it as well, but you two have final say."

Hermione nodded, and Malfoy tipped his head.

        "Item number two: you will be responsible for setting up the patrol schedule for the halls. Now I realize Voldemort is no longer a threat--" Dumbledore paused, remembering a former Death Eater's son was Head Boy, "--But there are still other things to keep in mind; students out of bed, you know..."

He resumed looking at the paper, "Item number three: you are allowed to deduct House Points. However, you are only allowed to do this if you see or hear of behavior that is not allowed. Now I know you both are from Houses with a difficult past... and this prophecy will only add to the tension, but you are not allowed to deduct points over trivial things such as feuds or disliking someone in the opposite house, or any house for that matter. Do you understand?"

The two nodded.

        "Now, as you know, Halloween is approaching, and we've had several requests for a Halloween ball this year. This, however, is up to yourselves and the Prefects of each house. I have no problem with any functions you wish to have, unless of course they conflict with exams or other business in Hogwarts. Therefore, if you do decide to hold a ball at any point in time, I shall request that you submit a plan and statement to me, and I shall okay it. Other than that, the rest is up to you."

        "Excuse me, Professor," Hermione said after he finished, "But I am curious--why are you so lenient about the number of functions?"

Dumbledore gave her a smile, "Ahh, I figured one of you would ask that question. The reason is that it promotes inter-House relations. And goodness knows, anything to bring the Houses closer together is a good thing."

Hermione nodded before sitting back in her chair. She only heard half of whatever else Dumbledore said, considering she'd spotted something on one of his shelves that caught her eye. It was a picture frame. An ordinary picture frame--there was nothing extraordinary about the frame itself. The picture inside, however, was enough to almost make Hermione gasp.

In the photo were two people, who looked at her and waved. Her eyes went wide. It was the two people from her dream! Taryn and Luke!

        Well, Hermione thought, that answers my question of whether they survived or not... and whether they stayed together.

The photo was of Taryn and Luke at their wedding.

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Hermione didn't tell her friends about anything that had begun to happen concering the prophecy. After all, how could she be sure it meant anything? It could be just a trick the teachers decided to play in hopes of boosting Inter-House relations. Then again, after what Dumbledore said, maybe not. She was just so conflicted about every little coincidence that seemed to be happening after her dream that she couldn't bring herself to talk about it. After all, if she was the person from Gryffindor destined to fulfill the prophecy, who was the person from Slytherin?

        With my luck, it'll be someone from Malfoy's little posse, she thought bitterly to herself, or even better, it'll be Malfoy.

If she had had this thought six months ago, she would have probably been sick and then died. The thought of feeling anything but hate for him would have killed her. But now...

        No, she reprimanded herself, no, I don't think of Malfoy as anything else but a pureblooded prat who always gets in my way.

Didn't she?

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Malfoy didn't know if she'd seen the photo, but he had. The smiling couple in that frame had been the same two people in his dream; Taryn and Luke. The two that had fulfilled the prophecy last time. Was it just him, or was it just a little too convenient that that photograph was there, in plain sight, when Malfoy was sure he'd never seen that photo in Dumbledore's office before.

He shook his head; this prophecy stuff was a bunch of bullshit. Sure, the dream and ceiling business in the Great Hall was very convincing, but he didn't believe in anything he couldn't see. And he sure as hell couldn't see a prophecy.

Malfoy entered his room and closed the door. Part of him wondered where Hermione was, but the other half scolded him for even thinking about it. Why should he care what that Mudblood did with her time? She was lucky he agreed to call her by her first name! She didn't deserve to be in his thoughts, however.

He quickly changed into athletic clothes; he had Quidditch practice in thirteen minutes and he didn't want to be late.

As he pulled on a white tee and a pair of black pants, his mind wondered to her again. Why had he become so attracted to her in the past few days? She was still the dirty Mudblood--nothing in that department had changed. Plus, she was a know-it-all, bossy... but one of the most exquisite creatures he'd ever seen. She thin, curvy, but graceful; she moved like a delicate swan--gently floating from one place to another.

        Sappy, Malfoy thought to himself, how pathetic can you get?

He snapped out of his reverie and left his room, not noticing the figure floating outside his window, watching him.

        "Soon," the figure whispered to itself, a sly grin appearing on its lips, "Soon. He's already questioning his true feelings about her. It's happening a lot faster than I expected, but no matter--it's getting around that time when I can start to have a little fun with Malfoy."

With a cruel laugh, the figure flew away.