Disclaimer: All characters are owned by JKR. The song "Perfect" is from Simple Plan.

Plot: Draco/Hermione. Don't like it? Go somewhere else. This is my story. And I did warn you in the summary. As for the actual plot being original, no one has a copyright on the entire school idea. If so, Hollywood would be in serious trouble

Chapter 1: And so it begins....

Hermione Granger stepped onto platform nine and three-quarters fifteen minutes before the Hogwarts Express was about to leave. She smiled inwardly, a little sadly, thinking that this was going to be her last year stepping onto the platform to leave. Although she was excited to start school as the Head Girl, part of her was thinking about after school. The war between Voldemort's supporters and those that opposed him had already begun, despite whatever the Ministry of Magic said. The thought made her grimace. How could they be so blind? She shook her head. She promised herself that she was going to enjoy the last year at school.

She was still the know-it-all bookworm, the clever one in the Golden Trio. She might not be bucktoothed anymore and although she could now tame her bushy hair into semblance of curls, she knew that she was only moderately pretty. Granted, she did have a nice figure but it was difficult to see under school robes. Granted, she was fairly popular with three of the houses. Granted, Viktor Krum's interest in her had made other boys take a second look at her, but she knew that she intimidated them. And even if she didn't, Harry and Ron definitely did. She told herself that it was okey. She didn't want to be a silly twit that burst into embarassed giggling whenever a boy talked to her like fellow Gryffindors Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. She definitely did not want to be seen as some sort of sexual predator the way Slytherin Pansy Parkinson was. Either way, she didn't have time for romance. She had friends, her schoolwork and now, responsabilities as the Head Girl.

"Hermione!" two voices called out from behind her. She turned around to see Ron Weasley and his sister Ginny with their bags. Harry Potter was not far behind, being escorted by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Her face lit up with a huge smile. She had missed her two bestfriends over the summer. She was also pretty close to Ginny Weasley, despite the age difference because it was nice to have someone for girltalk that wasn't going to squeal all the time and understood her complaints about Harry and Ron.

"Hey! How was the end of the summer?" Hermione asked as they started to board the train, although they had been keeping in touch through owl post.

"Not too bad. Mostly helping out Fred and George in their shop out in Hogsmeade. They're thinking about a place of Diagon Alley, once they have enough money," Ron said.

"Oh wow. That would be great for the business," Hermione commented.

"Have you heard the latest? Malfoy's band is going to be putting out a record," Ginny said with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Great. As if he wasn't a big enough git," Harry said with a grimace, as they continued to walk down the train cars, trying to find an empty compartment for the four of them.

Hermione shrugged. She didn't give a rat's ass what Malfoy did. Although she had to admit, that his band made some decent music. She gave credit where credit was due. That didn't change the fact that Malfoy was still a stuck-up, idiotic, cruel prat. And hot, her mind added. Hermione wanted to scowl at that thought. She supposed that Malfoy had a certain appeal. He had stopped slicking back his hair at some point in the third year, letting it hang around his face, his bangs sometimes falling across his gray eyes. He had the annoying habit of pushing it back with his hand.

The main thing was that Malfoy exuded sexual appeal. Both he and Harry were considered the two hottest guys at school. Whereas Harry had the good boy appeal, with his shy smile and his serious demeanour, he was the kind of boy you brought home to meet the parents. Malfoy, on the other hand, was the kind of boy that your parents warned you against. The kind of boy, despite the warnings, you snuck out of your house to see. Malfoy had the bad boy appeal in spades. And he knew it. And he used it. He was like a dirty little secret, a forbidden thrill. And if rumors were true, he was the dirty secret of a quite a number of witches, regardless of house.

And despite everything, Hermione had to admit albeit grudgingly that he had stage presence. When his band played, you had to watch. You could not tear your eyes away from them. He could command attention. They put on a great show. Like she said before, she gave credit where credit was due.

Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione finally found an empty compartment. They settled in and continued to chat among themselves.

"Congratulations again Hermione, on making Head Girl," Ron said, his ears turning a slight shade of pink.

"Thanks," Hermione said a little proudly. She had worked hard for it and was grateful that others thought that she was up to par for the job.

"I wonder who the Head Boy is," Ginny wondered out loud.

Harry and Ron shrugged and started to strategize for the Quidditch matches. Harry had been made captain of the team ever since Angelina Johnson graduated, since he was technically the only one that had the most experience and survived the brutal training schedule of Oliver Wood. Wood's training sessions had become somewhat legendary although both Angelina and Harry drove their teams to exhaustion in most practices. Ron's skills as a Keeper had improved greatly since that last game in the fifth year. Gryffindors still chanted "Weasley is our King" at every Gryffindor game, although it was the loudest against Slytherin, much to the Slytherins' anger.

"Well, I guess I'll have to find out," Hermione said to Ginny, as she rose to leave. "I'll leave my stuff here and just pop into the Head Boy and Girl Compartment to become acquainted and then go meet the new prefects."

Ginny smiled brightly and nodded her head, before becoming equally immersed in the conversation between Harry and Ron. As the back-up Seeker, Ginny was very keen on Quidditch and often helped the team strategize. More importantly, even though she didn't play most of the games, she had the opportunity to watch the other teams in action and was able to shout out advice and help prepare an effective defense.

Hermione made her way down the compartments, finally coming to an especially ornate compartment door that was right next to the prefect compartment. She heard voices coming from the prefect compartment and knew that in a little while she would be introducing herself to them.

The door to the Head Boy and Head Girl compartment slid open and she stepped inside. And stared in disbelief at Draco Malfoy.

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Draco Malfoy made it to the Head Boy and Head Girl compartment before Crabbe and Goyle had a chance to talk to him. He didn't feel in the mood to deal with them. He had had another fight with his mother before climbing on the train. He didn't feel like dealing with anyone at the moment. His mother had raised a ruckus because he had gone ahead and gotten his ears pierced, calling it a disgusting Muggle practice. She definitely had not appreciated when he pointed out that pierced ears were a tradition that wizards had engaged in since the time of the Druids. He supposed that he much rather fight with his mother than Lucius. But then again, Lucius was locked up in Azkhaban for being a Death Eater, staining the Malfoy name.

He just didn't want to deal with his family anymore. Part of him had changed since the summer before sixth year, when he began to practice the piano in earnest. It made the manor seem less empty. He could escape that way. At this point, Draco just didn't want to think anymore. About anything. About who was right or wrong. He knew he didn't want to be a Death Eater. He wasn't about to die for someone else's fucking crusade. At the beginning, he had thought it would be great sport, getting rid of the less deserving, the weak, the tainted. But then, he saw what the Dark Lord really did to his supporters. He wasn't gonna serve under anyone, to be discarded at will. That didn't mean that he didn't think that purebloods weren't inherently superior. He just wasn't ready to die to fucking prove it. Not that he was about to share this with anyone, especially with the impending war about to begin. He was going to do the smart thing and simply not take sides. He wanted to survive, regardless of who won or what the new world order would be.

Meanwhile, he'd continue to play music. When he played music, he could be anyone he wanted. Including someone more famous that the goddamn annoying Harry Pothead.

Draco picked up the acoustic guitar and began to strum some bars. He had learned to play the acoustic guitar over this summer. Although he was still extremely profficient at the piano, and it was his favorite instrument, the guitar had the advantages of being more portable. That, and girls loved a guy with a guitar.

He knew girls liked him. From his platinum blond hair to his cold gray eyes. He knew that Quidditch had given his long lean frame sinewy strength and luster to his reputation. He was, afterall, the Slytherin Seeker. Still, he had to compete against Potter for the position of most desirable guy at Hogwarts.

He narrowed his eyes at the thought. Potter had plagued his life ever since he had been born. Some of his earliest memories were of Lucius droning on and on about The Boy That Lived. It rattled Lucius that somehow, someone had been able to best the Dark Lord. And it wasn't a Malfoy.

It got progressively worst over the years, he reflected. Not only did he have to live up to the expectations of being a Malfoy but also he had to beat out Potter. On both accounts, he disappointed his father. He wasn't even able to outsmart or outmaneuver fucking Potter. Not even at bloody Quidditch, despite his talent. He hated to admit it but Potter has bloody unbeatable as a Seeker. Especially after he got his Firebolt.

As for being the best, which is what a Malfoy is supposed to be, he was bested by a Muggle-born witch. Draco grimaced at that. It didn't matter that he came in second place. He still wasn't first. Bloody Hermione Granger, that mudblood. He just couldn't accept that she beat him in almost every subject, except Potions.

Of course, no matter how he berated himself, Lucius was even worst. Draco was just a constant source of disappointment. He hated to think what his father would think about his music. Not that it mattered at this point. He didn't need his father's approval for anything. He didn't want it.

He just couldn't be perfect. He turned that thought around in his head and finally wrote it down on a piece of parchment. Slowly, an idea for a song started to form in his mind. He strummed a few more bars, his long fingers writing the melody, words coming unbidden to his head.

Hey Dad look at me
Think back and talk to me
Did I grow up according
To plan?
Do you think I'm wasting
My time doing things I
Wanna do?
But it hurts when you
Disapprove all along


And now I try hard to make it
I just want to make you proud
I'm never gonna be good
Enough for you
I can't pretend that
I'm alright
And you can't change me


'Cuz we lost it all
Nothing lasts forever
I'm sorry
I can't be Perfect
Now it's just too late
And we can't go back
I'm sorry
I can't be Perfect


Draco was absorbed in making music that he didn't hear the compartment door slide. He only looked up when he became aware that someone was there. His eyes locked with the brown eyes, wide with shock, of Hermione Granger.