1Rock You

CLK

Summary: (A/U) It isn't just a game, it's their life. The enemies they make on the court are the enemies they despise in the streets. The Gryffindor Lions' biggest rival is about to invade their halls, and they have to get along, for the sake of their 'team.' But what will happen when the Slytherin Prince gets what the Lions' leader has wanted all along? (DMHG)

-X-x-X-x-X-

His heart was racing, pumping blood through his exhausted body steadily. It pulsed, throbbing in his ears, dimming the roar of the chaotic crowd's cheers as he sped down the court. This was what he lived for. All he saw was his team, his opponent, and the ball.

He furrowed his brow in concentration as his adversary dribbled down the gleaming hardwood floor. Bounce, bounce, bounce... Left, right, left, right...

His grey eyes followed the pass, from the kid with glasses to the gangly redhead in the center's position. The ball belonged to him. They shouldn't have it.

He saw his opportunity as the lanky carrottop dribbled weakly, trying to get close to the net. The clock said there was thirty-three point six seconds left in the game as he slipped between two neanderthals in red and white, snatching the ball into his grasp. He sprinted to the opposite basket, time fading quickly.

He was met by another pair of crimson clad heathens at half-court, and skirted them with fluid grace. His teammates were guarded, there was no one to turn to, and the game was on him. Two points and victory was theirs'. He skidded to an abrupt stop at the free throw line, held his breath, and let the ball go.

In the two seconds it took for the ball to reach the basket, the gymnasium fell silent. Every fiber of his being prayed that the shot was good, that it would reach its destination. As the end-of-game buzzer rang out, the ball hit the rim. It spun once, twice, teetering at the edge, as hundreds of eyes centered on the basket.

Swish! The sound of rubber brushing fabric was heard by dozens of pairs of ears as the ball fell through the hoop, assuring the Slytherin Cobras' triumph. Number twenty-eight, Draco Malfoy, set his conceited smirk back in place as the results rang through the building, and he took excess pleasure in the crestfallen faces of the Gryffindor Lions.

Three Months Later- September First

Hermione Granger slid from the passenger's seat of a nice Toyota as her best friend, Harry Potter, exited the driver's side. Taking a deep breath, she caught sight of the huge sign on the enormous redbrick building in front of her. Gone was the title of Godric L. Gryffindor Traditional High School, established 1897.

Now, bold brass letters read Henry D. Hogwarts Traditional Community High School, established 2005. The grand halls of her beloved educational center were to be invaded by Slytherins. What would they do to the library?

Suddenly, a sleek black Mercedes sped into the Senior parking lot, coming to a screeching stop mere inches from Hermione. The loud rock music blasting from the sports car came to an abrupt halt as the drivers side door opened. Hermione got a quick glimpse of tricked out, black and emerald leather interior before her vision was blocked by the driver climbing out.

Ah, she should have known. The Slytherin Prince himself, Draco Malfoy, stood before her, in all of his arrogant, overrated glory. His silver blonde hair hung in his stormy grey eyes, his mouth set in a self-righteous smirk. He was wearing a pair of baggy denim jeans with a snug, ribbed black tee and an expensive leather belt. A silver necklace rested around his neck, matching the earring piercing his left lobe.

"Malfoy!" Harry spoke with the deepest contempt, running an angry hand through his unruly dark hair. "You could've hurt Hermione!"

"Who?" Malfoy asked, unconcerned. He spotted her and pointed, saying, "Oh, her?"

"Yes!" Harry forced out, his teeth grit in frustration.

"That would've been a shame. She's far too attractive to be injured." He insisted, winking at her.

That was Draco Malfoy for you. He was a huge flirt, but his favorite activity was annoying the hell out of any and every Gryffindor basketball player. He had just done both in one sentence, and was obviously pleased.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Harry ordered, gritting his teeth in frustration. Hermione sighed, knowing that thanks to the Slytherins holding the champion title, he couldn't let any more disrespect go. He was too proud. "I am warning you. We aren't going to take shit from you."

"Aren't you?" Malfoy challenged, raising his right brow quickly.

"No," Harry replied dangerously. Malfoy smirked once again, tossing the black leather messenger bag emblazoned with an emerald snake and an ornate 'M' over his shoulder. He shook his head, winked once again at Hermione, then turned on his heel, heading toward the school.

Malfoy had mastered the art of annoying Harry when they were about ten, when they played against each other in a basketball league. Malfoy was from the 'rich' side of town, and was pretty much a spoiled brat, along with his friends. They attended a privileged private school, Salazar Slytherin Academy of Excellence, and Harry and Malfoy had the chance to raise their rivalry to the next level. Gryffindor and Slytherin had never gotten along, and when the two most popular guys in the schools were mortal enemies, it tended to spread to the others.

Hermione disliked Malfoy for many reasons, one being that all of her friends had pleasant dreams about ending his life. Another large part of her disapproval of him came from the fact that he thought he was better than everyone. Hermione had lived three houses down from him as long as she could remember, and he looked down on her because she attended Gryffindor, where her father taught, instead of Slytherin with the rest of the neighborhood. He treated Harry as an inferior, although they were each others equals, probably because Harry had to earn his own money. It sickened her, but that was probably because his behavior reminded her of her mothers.

"Man, I don't know what I'm going to do this year, 'Mione!" Harry complained, shaking his head.

"It's going to be okay, Harry. Just ignore him, and he'll ignore you. That's what I've always done with him," Hermione answered, adjusting the black leather strap on her distressed, and at the moment filled, denim bag.

"Yeah... but you don't hate each other," Harry commented, taking her hand. Hermione looked down at their fingers, raising a brow. He sure had become more touchy-feely over the past couple of months.

"I may not hate him," Hermione said as they walked into the school. "But I sure don't like him, either."

Professor Lupin's Homeroom

"Alright everyone! Settle down!" Remus Lupin shouted. Hermione

smiled at the worn out teacher that she'd known for years. The day hadn't even begun yet, and he was already tired. He must be under a lot of stress.

"Okay, let's see. This is homeroom. You report here each morning for attendance, and we go through all of the special announcements and things throughout the year. We'll be in here about fifteen minutes each morning. Eat, talk, do whatever, just don't break the school rules. Oh, and stay in your seat!" Lupin added as the students began to rise.

As Remus passed out the timetables and marked off attendance, Hermione chatted with a few of her friends. Harry and Ron, her other best friend, were both in another homeroom. In fact, they didn't have many classes together at all this year, she remembered.

"Everyone, listen up, please!" Lupin requested over the chatter. Lavender Brown quit talking about Constantine from American Idol for a moment as he explained their next order of business. "Alright. We all know that two schools have merged, and those that came from Slytherin don't know their way around."

His words were met with dozens of shouts of "We'll manage," and one, "Who cares!" called out by her old Biology partner, Shane. Lupin smiled slightly in amusement as some of the Slytherins sent the poor guy threatening glares and the Gryffindor students laughed.

"I'm sure you all will be fine, but Professor Dumbledore has required that the teachers assign the Slytherins partners to help them find their way around the building, before the assembly, which is about to begin... Oh, for God's sake. He's even planned 'activities' for you to get better acquainted throughout the year... Okay, all I ask is that you give each other a chance, please?" Lupin pleaded as his students stared at him in horror. Hermione took a deep breath, praying that she would be assigned someone she didn't know and could stand.

"Lavender and Blaise Zabini, Seamus and Millicent Bullstrode, Neville and Pansy Parkinson, Hermione and Draco Malfoy..." That was all Hermione heard before her stomach dropped. The condition of the library was the least of her worries now!

The Hall- Walking to Dumbledore's Assembly

"Granger! Get a move on, will you!" Malfoy shouted. He was

irritated so easily, Hermione thought with a grin as she picked a loose string from the black lace on her bag. She rolled her eyes at Parvati, then followed Malfoy, straightening her strawberry shaded halter top. It showed off her tan well, and the deep neckline gave her the chance to wear a new Bohemian necklace she'd found at a flea market.

"I'm coming, but you're going the wrong way, Malfoy," She called, tugging on her short, beat up denim skirt before following him, her flip flops slapping on the tile of the hall.

"Yes, I know that. I want to go to my locker," He answered, as if she should have known that.

"Go to your locker after the assembly, I don't want to be late," Hermione returned, tossing her thick, straight caramel hair over her shoulder. Highlights were a wonderful thing.

"Oh, you are as big of a goodie-good as Potty, then, are you?" Malfoy asked, glaring at her. "Should have known."

"Do you realize how third grade that comment was?" She asked, irritated.

"Oh, yeah. Definitely a goodie-good," He nodded, surveying her. "Really is too bad, you've gotten kind of hot."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. The resident Slytherin Basketball Hero and Sex God (oh, yes, he maintained the title with NO problems) had just called her hot. In a way.

"Doesn't matter anyway," Malfoy continued, pulling a notebook and a pen out of his locker (which was decorated in Slytherin memorabilia.) "Potty and the Weasel, especially the Potty, he has a thing for you, they would try to have my head if I even look at you the wrong way."

"Harry does not have a... thing for me!" Hermione protested, rolling her chocolate eyes. He mirrored the action, sighing and shaking his head.

"You people are so clueless. Potter sweats off you like you're Carmen Electra or something. I don't get it, but hey, whatever," Malfoy shrugged his shoulders. "He might have a difficult time getting women. Not all guys have my charm. Or my sexiness. Or my-"

"Incredibly conceited attitude and diminutive brain, along with the mentality of a seven year old? I know, they really are so unfortunate," Hermione interrupted.

Malfoy glared at her, then glanced at the valuable silver watch on his wrist. "I swear, you wear more jewelry than I do," She commented, rolling her eyes at his emerald Slytherin class ring. Two onyx serpents were inset on the sides, and his initials were engraved on the silver band.

"This ring is important to me," He retorted, glowering at her. "And you are unbelievably irritating. No wonder Potty and the Weasel sidekick are both in love with you."

"You are out of your mind!"

"I'm not!"

"Whatever. At least I don't have Pansy Parkinson," She shuddered, forcing the rest of her sentence out. "Stalking me. No wonder you are the way you are."

"Oh, ha ha," He faked a laugh. "I can't help that I am dead sexy. It's a curse. But I am the way that I am? How am I?"

"Vain, egotistical, stubborn, unintelligent, discriminatory, immature..." Hermione began.

"Okay, stop before I burst in pride. I had no idea you cared for me so, Granger," Malfoy said wryly.

"Yes, you know I am all about you," She agreed sarcastically.

He nodded in understanding. "It is hard to keep away."

She laughed. "You are so delusional."

"I'm not, you are. You haven't realized that you, similar to every other female that I have ever met, will eventually succumb to my captivating charm," He pointed out.

She shook her head in disbelief. "You really think you can have anyone?"

He smirked proudly, "Yes, I do."

All traces of playful sarcasm had fallen from Hermione. "You... are... unbelievable."

"That usually comes after, but whatever," He shrugged, grinning.

"I'm serious. So, is that what happened? I know someone on Slytherin's basketball team had their grades changed so the school board would see them as eligible to play. Was it you? Did you like, sleep with a teacher?" She inquired.

He laughed. "Brilliant, but no."

"So your father payed someone off?" She assumed.

His face grew dark, and he spoke bitterly. "No. I don't need my grades changed, I'm fine. But even if I did, I would see to it myself. I don't need him to do anything for me."

Hermione studied him, with his perfectly messy locks and strong jaw. "I'm surprised they closed the school over that. But, I guess if it's been going on long enough..."

"I guess so. We should go to the assembly. I need to find out when basketball tryouts are," He reminded, smirking again.

"Oh, no..." She hadn't even thought about it. The Slytherins and Gryffindors playing on the same team? What a train wreck! Malfoy laughed at the expression on her face.

"I know. Poor Potty and the Weasel are going to lose their spots on the team," Malfoy taunted, pushing himself off the lockers and turning on his heel. "And I need to find out when that will be!"

"Oh, Malfoy!" Hermione called.

"What?" He shouted over his shoulder.

"Your going the wrong way!"

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