Sorry, people. There's been a lot of shit going on lately. Not doing my best. Here ya go.

Hermione found Harry and Ron deep in conversation about last week's Quidditch finals when she re-entered the pub.

". . .I told you the Tornados were going to come back this year," Harry was saying.

"You didn't even know who the Tornados were until Cho Chang introduced them to you in our fifth year," retorted Ron.

"Yeah, well, you were supporting the Cannons, who lost horribly and – Oh, look, Herms is back!"

"Hey, Hermione was there!" said Ron, still engrossed in Quidditch. "Herms, didn't I say right before the game that the Tornados only had a chance of wining because the Cannons had just lost Noganzic, and he's the best after Krum!"

"Erm, sure," Hermione answered, hoping they wouldn't go any further on the subject of the Bulgarian seeker, Victor Krum. "Listen, we should get going – it's almost half-past nine. The train will be here any minute.

Hermione turned away to pick up her trunk and breathed a sigh of relief. Neither Ron nor Harry suspected anything.

Draco Malfoy slumped down next to Miles, trying not to look upset. Miles smirked.

"How'd it go?"

"Shut the fuck up," Malfoy snarled. "I know you know exactly how it went."

Miles waved a waiter over and ordered Malfoy and himself each a large firewiskey. Draco always wondered how he got away with ordering alcohol, since they were both clearly underaged.

"Let me guess: You kiss her, expecting her to just completely melt under your 'gentle' touch and totally forget about Harry Potter, her boyfriend, but instead, she shoves you away. Then you try to get her back by sweet-talking her, but she doesn't take any of it."

God, he knows me waaaaay too well.

No, you're just way to obvious. You have to be more discreet about Granger.

Yeah, good – NO! No! She's a mudblood. An ugly mud-

She's not ugly u dirty little liar. It's pretty sad when you start lying to yourself about these things.

"God damn you, Miles," muttered Draco, before realizing that he had just told himself to be more discreet. "I mean, that's not what happened at all!"

Miles raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Um. . .yeah. I decided that I just had a temporary case of hinotinia and I don't really like her at all. She's just an ugly slut, that's all."

"Uh-huh. . .what's hinotinia?"

Nothing. I made it up.

"It's. . .errr. . .really rare. A type of brain disease. We learned about it in Professor Sprout's class the day you were sick last year."

That convinced Miles and he fell silent. The large clock building – known to muggles as 'Big Ben', chimed the nine-thirty chime.

"What time does the Hogwarts Express come?"

"It should be here now. We should go."

Half an hour later, when the entire student body was settled comfortably in numerous compartments in the Hogwarts Express, and the train was on its way, rushing past fields and rivers and mountains, Hermione had to go to the bathroom. Leaving Harry and Ron amongst a pile of chocolate frogs, Bertie Botts Every Flavored Beans, and cream pies, she set off down the corridor. She didn't get there right away, however. Her classmates Neville Longbottom, Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, and Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Lavender Brown, and Pavarti Patil all bombarded her on her way down the hall.

"Hermione!" said a pompous Ernie. "How was your summer?"

"Hi, Herms!" said Neville distantly. "I'm trying to remember. . .Did I leave Trevor at my house? I don't remember grabbing him. . ."

"Do you know who the new Head Girl and Boy are?" asked Lavender. "We thought it might be you, since none of us are."

"Did you see the Quidditch match last week? Wasn't it great?" said Dean happily.

Hermione smiled at her friends, feeling loved. Deciding she had some time to spare before she really had to go to the bathroom, Hermione sat down with them to chat. As she did, however, there was a loud croaking sound from underneath her and she jumped up immediately.

"Trevor!" cried Neville. "Sorry 'bout that, Hermione."

"That's ok," answered Hermione. She looked around. "How is everyone?"

"Just fine," Seamus replied. "So, have you heard who's Headgirl and Boy"

"No, actually, I don't. I just hope it's not Malfoy."

"If it is, I'm going to file a complaint"

"But what about Headgirl?" Pavarti piped up. "It's strange because, usually, when someone becomes Headgirl or boy, we usually hear about it because it's such a big deal."

"Yeah. . ."

Hermione couldn't hold it any longer. "Hey, I gotta run, but I'll catch you all later, 'k?"

"Bye, Herms."

For the last forty-five minutes, Draco had been chatting comfortably with Miles, Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle. However, all the firewiskey he had guzzled had run right through him, and now he had to pee. Leaving the other Slytherins to a viscous game of wizard's chess, he headed down the corridor to find the toilets.

Walking down the long train, Draco wondered who the new Headboy and girl would be. In truth, he had been expecting to become Headboy. If not him, then who? Ron Weasel? God, no. He hoped that Pansy Parkinson, a snooty Slytherin girl who was absolutely obsessed with Draco, wasn't Headgirl. Contrary to popular belief, Draco hated the girl.

Draco was lost in thought when he turned the corner and banged head on with none other than Hermione Granger.

Trying to preserve his pride from his last incident with Hermione, Draco decided to be a dick to her.

"Ewww, it's Granger. Where's Potty and Weasel?"

"I thought I told you to fuck off, Malfoy," said Hermione coolly.

"I thought I told you to not talk back to your superiors," Draco snarled.

"You know what? I have never –" began Hermione hotly, but was interrupted by a loud tapping on the train window. A large Hogwarts barn owl, struggling to keep up with the train, obviously wanted in. Hermione went to the window and slid it open. The owl flopped in. It was carrying two letters. One to Hermione and one to Malfoy. Draco recognized the Headmaster of Hogwarts' spidery handwriting.

Handing Draco his letter resentfully, Hermione ripped her envelope open and quickly scanned the letter. Then she let out a gasp and clapped her hand over her mouth.

"What?" Draco asked.

"I – I'm Headgirl," whispered Hermione, seeming to temporarily forget her hatred towards Draco.

Draco quickly tore open his own letter and read,

��

������

��

�

��

���

"Headboy. . ." whispered Draco, already forming ideas of how he could torture Weasley and Potter. He had to tell Miles so they could talk about all the evil things he could do.

"Wait. . ." muttered Hermione. "Does this mean that we'll be living together?"

"How should I know?" said Draco coldly, before brushing past her.

That's all. Will update soon, most likely.