Disclaimer: All characters are owned by JKR.

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 2: The Head Boy and Girl



For a few seconds, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger just stared at each other, realization dawning on both of them. Draco was the first to react. Without letting his guitar drop, he used his right hand to collect the piece of parchment he had been scribbling notes and lyrics on and put it into the right pocket of his robe. A sardonic smile twisted on his lips. If he had thought about it, he would have known Granger would be the Head Girl. Dumbledore positively doted on the Golden Trio and the teachers tended to adore her. Pothead and Weasel barely passed his classes. She was obviously the brains behind their operation.

"Are you gonna just stand there and gape at me?" he said bitingly with his trademark smirk, one that made most girls heart go pitterpatter at the sight of. "Of course, I can understand the thrill of a fan meeting their idol."

She closed her mouth with a snap, her eyes flashing and her lips thinning out into a murderous line. "Sod off, Malfoy. I'm not part of your fanclub," she gritted out.

Draco raised an eyebrow elegantly. It didn't matter if she was or wasn't. He was merely trying to get a rise out of her and suceeding admirably. It really was too much too easy taunt her, especially since Potter and Weasley weren't there to threaten him with physical violence. Not that it matter, he could take either of them down any time, any day. It was just a little more difficult when both of them were involved.

"I just wanted to make the acquaintance of the Head Boy and go talk to the new Prefects about their duties," she said. "But since its you, I don't think I need to."

Draco just looked at her behind the mask he had perfected over the years, his face one of superiority and mild boredom. Not that he minded her words, although he felt a little upbraided that an insignificant Gryffindor didn't think it was worth her time to make his acquaintance. They were all goody two-shoes with obviously demented noble impulses that got them killed. Seriously, there wasn't a dram of common sense in the entire lot.

"The compliment is returned," he drawled. "Let's meet the Prefects and get this over with. That way you can return to your little boyfriends."

He clearly saw the anger in her eyes over his comment, continuing to look at her coolly. They really were a simpleminded lot, wearing their bleeding hearts on their sleeves. Emotions were your true enemy. Anyone could take them and twist them into weapons to use against you. He was working on his own spitfire temper. Up until the fifth year it had gotten into considerable trouble, including a number of unpleasant hexes. He simply wanted to avoid all of that. There were other ways of dealing with minor annoyances. And he would never consider the Golden Trio anything other than an annoyance anymore. It just wasn't worth his time or energy to directly engage them into some sort of fight.

He started to study her for a few seconds that she fumed in silence before coming up with a retort. He could see how others could find her attractive enough. She had to be, otherwise Viktor Krum's eyesight had seriously been damaged by a Bludger at some point. Draco doubted that was the case. She no longer was bucktoothed and her face had become more slender, revealing the delicate bone structure. He had been taught to recognize such things, cultivate an artistic eye so to speak. Somehow, she had managed to tame that bushy mane of hers into curls that she had gathered into a ponytail. A few rogue tendrils escaped to frame her face. His mind idly thought about what kind of figure she had underneath all these robes, but he quickly dismissed such a train of thought. This was bloody Granger, a mudblood he despised after six long years of squabbles and insults.

Granted, he had stopped saying mudblood outside the Slytherin common room. You simply didn't know who could be within earshot, ready to be outraged. Besides, he had learned that even if he didn't say it, it didn't change who or what they were. What was the use of stating the obvious? There were other ways to insult people. It had dawned upon him that a true insult was one that did not result to slurs.

And simply, he just wanted to avoid bad publicity. It would just negatively impact his band.

"Listen you pretentious git, unlike you, I don't thrive on insulting people," she said in a lofty tone, with her holier-than-thou attitude.

"Really? If you haven't noticed Granger, I haven't been the one resorting to foul language," he shot back smoothly, picking unexistant lint from his robes in a careless manner. And smirked at her stunned expression as she realized that, in fact, he hadn't uttered a single profanity. Unlike her.

Draco relished having the upper hand in this particular battle. As he had stated before, it much more satisfactory to win without having to result to slurs. It just proved how much wittier he really was.

"I apologize for my language, if it offended you," she replied stiffly, her cheeks rosy, as if she had been forced to swallow her pride, eat crow and humble pie all at the same time. She probably had. Probably no one before had ever taken her to task. Uppitity Gryffindor that she was.

"Apology accepted," Draco said with barely concealed glee, his eyes glittering. He knew it was just upsetting her more. Somewhere, in the recesses of his mind, a tiny voice said that he shouldn't gloat. He shifted slightly in his seat, his black dragon skin pants glistening. "Shall we go talk to the Prefects, then?"

She nodded her head, a stony look in her eyes and exited the compartment first.
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What an insufferable prat! her mind screamed at her as soon as she stepped into the train hallway. Her heart was pounding in her ears, anger flowed through her veins turning her cheeks a rosy pink. Alot of it was directed at Malfoy, but a large chunk at herself. Seeing him inside the compartment had rattled her more badly than she wanted to admit. Part of her was mortified that she had just been reprimanded because of her language. By Malfoy no less! This year was really beginning horribly.

It hadn't helped that she had gaped at him when she entered the compartment. Seeing him, sitting with that guitar, his face down and his hair in his eyes, absorbed in what he was doing was a little breathtaking. It was almost as if he were a different person. When he raised his head and his eyes met hers, her heart did do a quirky little beat. Of course, when he opened his mouth and his words reached her eyes, she dismissed her fanciful notions. He was still the obnoxious, despicable Draco Malfoy.

She wrote it off as shock of discovering he was Head Boy. Although, in retrospect, she shouldn't have. After all, he was second behind her. Oh, she beat him out alright but that was because she was constantly studying, make certain she never lost her edge. Granted, he blew her clear out of the water in Potions but she attributed most of that to Snape's blatant favoritism of Slytherins.

She turned around to see him exit the Head Boy and Head Girl compartment. His long and lean body, filling the space. Not that he was physically big or overtowering. He was just a head taller than her. She could fit perfectly under his chin, not that she thought about things like that, she thought in horror. It was simply his presence. He let it be known that he was there. Not wanting to make prolonged eye contact, she entered the Prefect compartment.

Eight heads turned around to watch who had entered. She took a few steps forward, toward the center of the compartment. She heard the door slide open and close and knew that Malfoy was inside the room as well.

"Hello to all of you. My name is Hermione Granger from House Gryffindor and I'm the Head Girl," she said brightly, smiling at them. They all nodded their heads at her. Some of the girls smiled back at her.

There was a pause, a few seconds of awkward silence. Hermione realized that Malfoy meant for her to introduce him to the others. Bloody hell, she thought and sighed inwardly.

"And this is Draco Malfoy from Slytherin House, the Head Boy," she managed to say in a rather neutral tone, casting a look back at Draco.

He was leaning to one side of the car, casually. He acknowledged Hermione's words with a cocky smile and a quick nod of his head.

She saw the Hufflepuff girl's eyes widen in excitement and she nearly rolled her eyes. Instead, she rolled her shoulders swiftly and started a quick round of introductions before launching into an explanation of Prefect duties.

He didn't interrupt her while she talked. In fact, he didn't say anything the entire time. She knew he was watching her, felt it because she could feel the hair in the back of her neck prickling up. If she turned around, she knew she would see him still leaning against the side of the car, his eyes filled with scorn and boredom. She did her best to ignore it and him. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of unsettling her again. At that moment, she decided that ignoring him was the best and only possible way of surviving this year. Internally, she remembered that the Head Boy and Girl shared private quarters, separate rooms from the Houses and shared a common room. She wanted to groan outloud. The last thing she needed was a common room filled with Slytherins. Or Malfoy with one of his conquests.

She almost made a face at that. Hermione did not want to think about a girl with Malfoy. Especially in those black dragon skin pants. She kicked herself mentally over that.

"Now, if there are any questions, don't hesitate to contact either of us or one of the teachers," she heard herself. She was pretty sure that she had covered all of the basic and the duties. Because she was the responsible one. Good old dependable Hermione that knew everything, she thought fleetingly.