Recap: The stage was set, so if you can't remember my tiny prologue, then go back and read it again :P Heehee!

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Chapter 2: Year Seven

"Ron!" Hermione called from the bottom of the stairs, struggling to keep Crookshanks from getting away for the fifth time that day. They were going to be late if he didn't hurry. As it was they probably wouldn't end up in the same car.

"Is he ready yet?" Mrs. Weasley asked, rushing past Hermione into the kitchen to grab the snacks she'd packed for Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry. As far as she was concerned, Harry and Hermione were her children too.

"Is he ever?" she laughed, pulling her mangy cat from her shoulder. She wondered absently if it were possible to train a cat.

"Yes," came Ron's irritated voice from the top of the stairs. "I am to ready. Now stop talking about me." He came down the rest of the way, pulling his jacket on. "We're not going to miss the train, 'Mione." He kissed her lovingly on the cheek, then scrambled out the door. He hadn't talked to Harry in almost a month for many different Ministry-related reasons. He was eager to see his best friend again.

"Change of pace?"

Hermione turned around to see Mrs. Weasley holding her bag of snacks.

"He must have remembered the famous Harry Potter," Hermione laughed. "At least he'll make the train this year. We have that."

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Twenty minutes and already she wanted to slap them. Not that they were doing anything out of the ordinary. On the contrary, they were doing the exact same thing they always did; ignore her. Ginny, who sat across from her, had fallen asleep almost immediately, knowing her brother and boyfriend all too well. Hermione should have known by now too, but there was still that hope that she could ignite something in Ron the way Quidditch did. The way she used to be able to.

She was up and out of the car before the boys could take notice. But she had her money on the fact that they never would. What she needed right now was a short walk through the train, just to clear her thoughts and focus on what was to come; her seventh and final year at Hogwarts, where she was named Head Girl; the year she considered her time to shine.

Time seemed to speed considerably as she dragged her feet through the carpeted corridors of the train. Most every compartment was full of chattering students, their shades pulled down. The train began to slow and it was almost time to disembark. She was about to head back to her cabin, when she heard heated voices that tried in vain to keep their conversation from prying ears.

"I am so damn sick of this!" The voice was obviously feminine. And Hermione knew exactly who it belonged to: Pansy Parkinson. Which meant that the other voice, the male voice, belonged to her boyfriend, and Hermione's longtime enemy: Draco Malfoy. Now there was absolutely no way she wouldn't eavesdrop. One always had to have their guns locked and loaded when they were the enemy of a Malfoy.

"You're sick of it?" Draco retorted. He was trying the hardest of the two to keep it down. "I have to hear this shit from all the other Slytherins and you're sick of it? Sick of what exactly, Pansy?"

"You don't trust me," she stammered, her voice faltering.

In the corridor Hermione repressed a giggle. Oh this was too good!

"I think we're beyond that point," Draco sneered. "I didn't trust you a year ago."

"What did I ever do to you, Draco! What! I'm your damn trophy for God's sake!"

"What did you do!" There was no controlling his tone now. "What didn't you do? First—"

"Hermione!"

She turned sharp on her heals, as if she were a naughty child with her hand caught in the cookie jar.

"Ron?"

"What are you doing out here?"

"What are you doing out here?" she laughed. "Did Harry die?"

He ignored her joke; it had been a jab and they both knew it. "The train is unloading. Come on."

"When did you notice I was gone?" she asked, sidled up next to him. Again he ignored her. Why couldn't she just understand? He needed to just be with a friend sometimes. Not that he wanted to be without her, he loved her, he always had and always would, but sometimes it was "friend time" not "girl friend time". The thing he didn't know, however, was that for Hermione when she was with Ron it was like both.

How could she make him see that?

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"Hey Granger." Hermione's back stiffened at the sound of Malfoy addressing her. She turned around and smiled rigidly at him; he would not get the better of her on their first day back.

"Malfoy?"

"Guess who else was named Head?"

"Someone qualified."

"Perfectly," he laughed. "We're going to have such a fun year, Granger. Well, I am anyway. How could a mudblood get through the day knowing how lowly they are?"

Hermione smirked, cocking her mental gun.

"And how can you get through the day with Pansy? I'm ok with you lashing out at me, Malfoy. You need to, otherwise you wouldn't be able to handle the fact that she's been cheating on you since day one."

She was met with silence. Her smirk widened.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

He opened his mouth to speak, insult her perhaps, but the words never came, for at that very moment Headmaster Dumbledore approached his podium and began his annual opening speech. The room fell silent and, for the moment, their little tiff was over.

Hermione-1

Draco-0

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"So Harry," Hermione said, taking a seat beside him on the couch beside the fireplace. Ron was currently in the bathroom; the present Fred and George had sent him for making perfect again had exploded all over his new robes. He'd been in the bathroom for over an hour trying to get the stain out and muttering angrily under his breath how he was going to get them back. "How does it feel to finally be a perfect?"

"Alright I suppose." He shrugged and pulled her close. They had a special bond, a relationship like a brother and sister. No one questioned their affection. They loved each other, but they were by no means in love. There was nothing inappropriate about their friendliness. "I haven't really done any perfect things yet. Other than bringing the first years in, but that's nothing."

"It's work, Harry. But I think you'll like it. Besides, me, Ron, and Ginny will be there with you the whole time…How are things going with Ginny anyway? It must have been hell being away from her for so long this summer."

"You're telling me," he laughed. Ginny had received the same exploding sentiment from her brothers. "I wrote her as much as I could, but I was so busy. I could hardly keep up with Dumbledore and them. I'm definitely happy to be back here and not have to worry about so much."

"Did you hear the bad news?"

He cocked his head to the side.

"Malfoy was named Head Boy," she groaned. "And here I thought seventh year would be a breeze."

"Just ignore him, Hermione. That's what I do."

"Can I ask you something, Harry?"

"Sure thing, 'Mione."

"Promise you won't mention it to Ron?"

He raised a questioning eyebrow. What could she want kept from her boyfriend?

"It's nothing big, I swear."

"Alright," he said hesitantly. "I promise."

"Do you and Ginny ever have problems? What I mean is, does she ever feel like you ignore her?"

"Do you feel like Ron ignores you?"

She nodded, averting her eyes.

"I'm sure he doesn't mean to."

"I know he doesn't mean to," she sighed. "But I don't want to mention it to him and make him feel like a bad guy. I love him, but…"

"But what?"

"Sometimes I don't know if I really love him, or I just…you know, love him the way I love you. Do you know what I mean, Harry?"

"I…Listen Hermione, I already promised I wouldn't say anything to Ron, but I think you need to. If Ginny felt this way I'd want her to talk to me. I'm sure its nothing." He stood, stretching his limbs. "Speaking of Ginny, I'm going to go see if she's cleaned her robes yet." He kissed her lovingly on the forehead. "And I know you love Ron, 'Mione. How can't you?"

"Right," she sighed, then perked up and smiled so Harry wouldn't be suspicious. "You're right. I do love him. Thanks Harry."

"Anytime."

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Goyle lay prostrated on the floor of the Slytherin common room, Malfoy's claw-like fingers wrapped in vice-grip fashion around his thick neck. His face was slowly turning blue and, if someone didn't split them up soon, he could pass out.

"Draco!" Pansy screamed, jumping onto his back and pulling at him with all her strength. "Stop it! Get off him!"

"Bastard!" Malfoy seethed, tightening his grip. In his other hand he held his wand, pressed like a knife into his "friend's" neck. He paid no mind to Pansy or any of the other Slytherins in the room. "If I ever catch you touching her again it'll be your life, Goyle!"

"Mr. Malfoy!" came the unmistakenable voice of Professor Snape. Using a simple spell, he separated the two seventh year boys, holding Malfoy against the nearest wall. "What is the meaning of this? You nearly killed him!"

"I should have!" He tried in vain to cast the spell off, but it was simply too strong. After several minutes of struggling, he relaxed, his heavy glare set on Snape, who stood five feet away, his wand still point rigidly at his star student.

"Not even twenty-four hours, Mr. Malfoy," he said, furrowing his brow. "What's gotten into you? What did Mr. Goyle do to make you attack him like that?"

"Forget it," he scoffed. "I'm over it."

"I'm confiscating your wand until after breakfa—"

"But—"

"Would you like it to be all day?" Snape warned. He so hated to be this way with Draco, but sometimes the duties of a teacher came before the duties of Slytherin loyalty. "Now I am going to release you. Slowly hand over your wand, unless you wish to sleep in my binding spell."

Draco's glared deepened, but he nodded all the same. Once Snape released him, he did as he was told, waiting until his professor was out of the common room to speak.

"Watch your back, Goyle," he hissed. "If you even look at Pansy in a way I don't like I will not hesitate to obliterate you." He stomped furiously from the room, grabbing Pansy's arm and forcing her along with him. "You," he said through his teeth, ignoring her helpless whimpering. When he reached the privacy of his room, he threw her roughly on his bed. If his mind hadn't been so clouded by anger and hatred, he might have noticed the look of sheer terror on her face. "So you like big, bumbling, half-wit, talentless wizards, huh Pansy? I'm not good enough for you?" He grabbed her hurtfully by the shoulders when she didn't answer. There was no doubt in her mind that if he was capable of hitting her that he would do it tonight. "You have to go screw one of my best friends and God knows who else?"

"It's not like you're just finding out for the first time!" she retorted, her tear-filled eyes narrowing into a look of utter loathing. "You've known all along, Draco!"

"Yes, well, seeing it is a little different, love." He took a set beside her, his arm snaking around her shoulders. "I don't know what the hell you have been thinking, but if I ever catch you with another man you—" But he couldn't finish his sentence, his voice caught in the most horrendous of laughs. "Oh Pansy," he sighed. He grabbed her face, forcing her to kiss him. "You won't ever humiliate me again, will you?"

She looked deep into his cold blue eyes, shuddering uncontrollably when she saw nothing but the purest malevolence.

"Will you?" he pressed, tightening his hold on her.

"Of course not, Draco," she whispered, the first of many tears sliding down her soft pink cheeks.

"And why is that?"

"Because I love you. Only you."

"Exactly." He kissed her once more, then pushed her off the bed. If she hadn't been expecting it, she would have fallen flat on her face. "Now get the hell away from me. And remember, I'm already not happy with you. Don't give me a reason to put my anger to the test."

Once Pansy was out of the room, and his mind stopped spinning, he was able to calm himself and focus his thoughts. Truthfully, he never really liked Pansy, not the way a boyfriend should. Yes she was beautiful, but she just wasn't what he wanted. He didn't know what he wanted, but it certainly wasn't a backstabbing girl like Pansy Parkinson. One would think that a devious boy like Draco Malfoy would want a girlfriend that could match his dark qualities. Draco had thought so as well, but, unfortunately for him, she was too much like him and wouldn't listen if her life depended on it. She was going to cheat on him again. And again, and again, and again, until—

He closed his eyes and lay back on his plush green pillows. Until what? Until he made her? As tempting as the thought was, he knew he would never be able to do it. He wasn't a murderer. He wasn't like his father. Not yet anyway. And not if he could do something about it. He admired his father's courage and bravery, but the messes he got himself into and his dealings with the Dark Lord. No, he could never become THAT evil. He was only angry, only hurt, perhaps, by the world and the hand he had been dealt.

"I need to get out of here," he mumbled, climbing off the bed and pulling on his cloak. A nice walk through the grounds would do his nerves some good. If not, then perhaps he could find some unfortunate student misbehaving to put in detention and lighten his mood.

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Hermione walked leisurely under the star-studded night sky. It was well past after-hours, but, being in desperate need of some solitude and fresh air, she went against her better judgment and snuck out for an evening stroll. The air was perfect; not too warm, not too cold. Her light fall cloak was perfect for the weather, and the breeze was more than she could have asked for.

Her thoughts inevitably drifted towards Ron. When they had first started dating it was like they fell in love everyday. They held hands, kissed every chance they got—they couldn't keep their hands to themselves. Now—she sighed painfully at the thought—now they were like an old married couple, hardly looking at each other and only displaying affection every blue moon. How she missed the beginning, the good times, when everything was new and excited and their feelings had been so forward and simple. They had truly been in love then, overjoyed in each other and the fact that the other had had the same feelings.

"I love you!" "I love you too!" "I've loved you since as long as I could remember!" "I want to be with you forever!"

Forever, she mused, kicking a loose rock in the patch she had been walking on. Could she survive in a relationship like this with Ron forever? It seemed impossible. And yet, she couldn't imagine herself with anyone else. Who else could instill such raging feelings of love as Ron had in her? Who—

She was on her back before she knew she'd fallen over. She had hit something—or to be more precise, someone—and hard. They had fallen over as well, and were none too happy about it.

"Malfoy!" she stammered, climbing to her feet. "What—"

"Watch where you're walking, Granger," he sneered, brushing himself off.

"I could say the same to you," she countered. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

"Likewise. But I don't see how it's any of your business. I suggest we keep this between us, unless you—"

"Stop it with the half-ass threats, Malfoy. I know you're not going to go through with anything you say."

"Want to put money on that?"

All she could do was laugh, startling him slightly.

"What's so damn funny?"

"First of all," she said, pointing to his waist, "you don't have your wand on you. And even if you did, you wouldn't stand a chance against me. I know far more than you. I could beat you in a duel any day."

"A duel, eh? Finally you say something we can both agree with."

Hermione arched her eyebrow. He wasn't suggesting that they—

"Malfoy, you can't—"

"I'm dead serious, Granger. Pick a day and time, and I'll prove I'm better than you."

"There's no way we would get away with it. Where are we going to find a secret enough place to duel! You've gone mental!"

"Alright," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "If you want to give up that easily. I was under the impression that you were hot shit. Apparently rumors can be deceiving." He was no more than ten paces away, when she grabbed the back of his robes and pulled him to a stop.

"Friday night," she said, locking his eyes and holding them with a deep glare. "One a.m. We each bring one witness. One. No audiences."

"Fair enough," he said, smirking down at her. "One more thing."

"What?"

"Don't ever touch me again."

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Hmm, Draco and Hermione dueling? Nothing could possibly go wrong there! LOL:P Oh silly, silly kids!…I hope everyone liked this chapter. The next one promises to be interesting. Heeheehee!

REVIEW! Please :)