Don't Be Irrational
By: Acrophobia1322
Chapter One
Hermione tossed and turned on her bed and then opened her eyes slowly to look up at the ceiling. She sighed heavily and rolled over onto her side to look at her alarm clock. 5:32 AM. Not nearly the time she wanted to wake up. It was almost a whole half an hour before she'd wanted to wake up but she did. She sat up on her bed and looked around in the muffling darkness of the Ginny's room in the Burrow. She then turned off her alarm clock, which she had insisted on bringing, and put it away in her trunk.
Ginny, who had been lying in the bed beside Hermione's, stirred and groaned but did not wake. Hermione shook her head slightly, smiling, and then began pulling clothing out of her trunk. She settled for a baby blue t-shirt, a pair of faded jeans, and a pink sweater with Hermione Granger embroidered over the left breast. She dressed and was pulling her socks on when she heard a 'thunk' from beside her and Ginny's groaning. Hermione looked over and saw Ginny's head popping up from the other side of the bed.
"Morning, Gin," said Hermione, trying hard to repress her giggles but doing very badly. Ginny noticed.
"Oh, ha ha," murmured Ginny sarcastically. "That's the third time I've done that lately. What time is it?"
"5:45," replied Hermione.
"It's too early…" yawned Ginny, groggily getting to her feet. "Where are you going this early?"
"For a walk," Hermione said, "to clear my thoughts."
"Still on about 'It's the last year of school' thing?"
"Yeah," Hermione replied half-heartedly. "Well, I'll be back in time for breakfast."
Hermione left the room and started down the winding staircase. She yawned a little as she entered the den and looked around for a sign of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. She found Mr. Weasley relaxing at the kitchen table, reading the paper. He looked up when he caught sight of Hermione out of the corner of his eye.
"Good morning, Hermione," he called. "It's a little early, isn't it?"
"Oh, yes, Mr. Weasley," she replied. "I was going to go for a walk before breakfast though. Today is the day we're catching the Hogwarts Express and everything."
"That's right! And you'll be Head Girl this year!" he said. "Quite an honor. Not that Molly and I didn't know you wouldn't be Head Girl." Hermione's faced turned slightly red. "It's a pity that Ron didn't get Head Boy, though. Of well, I suppose. You're as good as family."
"Thanks Mr. Weasley," said Hermione breathlessly. "Well…I guess I'll be back soon."
"Alright," Mr. Weasley replied. "Be back in time for breakfast." Hermione nodded and left.
It was true. Hermione, along with Ron and Harry and all of her friends, was going into her seventh and last year at Hogwarts. Hermione had become Head Girl but neither Ron nor Harry had become Head Boy, which put out Ron slightly but Harry merely shrugged it off, having not been picked to be a prefect in earlier years. Hermione had read over the letter that had been sent with her badge describing all her duties. The only thing that really disturbed her was the last paragraph of the letter, which read:
Head Boy and Girl are expected to share a common room. Dormitories, however, will be separate. The large, spacious bathroom, which you will also share, connects the two bedrooms. Locks will be provided and are charmed not to accept the alohomora (sp?) charm. We hope this will be a pleasant experience for all.
That was all. No mention of who the Head Boy was whatsoever, yet they expected Hermione to live in close quarters with him. The thought made her shiver. 'Let's hope that the Head Boy is someone from Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw…because if it is from Slytherin…it's obvious who it would be.'
Meanwhile…
Draco rolled over in his bed and yawned, opening his eyes slowly and letting his eyes adjust to the light, or rather, the lack of it. Indeed, his room was dark. The large window that led to the huge balcony was covered by thick, black, velvet curtains. His bed was a King-size 4-poster, adorned with black satin hangings. His comforter and silk blanket followed the color scheme of the room, both being black as well, though the blanket was embroidered with a serpent.
Draco yawned once more and tried to get back to sleep but found it quite impossible. He finally gave into his sleeplessness and flung his legs over the side of his bed, which came a good four feet of the ground, and jumped down, onto the cold, black marble flooring. He shivered at the sensation and then moved over to his closet. He pushed the doors open and pulled out a black turtleneck and black slacks, and then threw his usual black robe over it. After gelling up his hair as usual, he grabbed his Head Boy badge and fixed it very neatly to the front of his robes.
He straightened up and started for the large, willow doors, pushing them open, and starting down the hallway, his black shoes clacking against the dark marble flooring. He headed down three flights of stairs, greeted by portraits of several deceased Malfoys, including the portrait of Lucius.
"Son," Lucius's picture grunted stiffly. Draco paused in front and smirked at his father.
"Father," he replied. They nodded to one another and Draco continued down the stairs, rolling his eyes in a bored fashion.
Soon, Draco reached the dining room and entered, looking at his mother whom was sitting at the end of a very long table. Draco sat at the other end and soon began eating and picking at the fruit and yogurt that was in the bowl before him.
"Good morning, Draco," greeted Mrs. Malfoy. The sound of her voice to Draco was as if she was right there next to him, but that was not uncommon as it was an enchanted dining hall.
"Good morning, mother," Draco replied with very little interest.
They finished breakfast in silence and then Draco checked the clock in the lobby. She sighed when he saw that it was 10:30 AM. He watched as his mother pulled on her coat. She then guided her only son over to a fireplace, grabbed a handful of floo power, and threw it in. Draco stepped forth into the green flames and, in a mechanical voice, said "Platform 9 ¾." He waited a second and enjoyed the flames licking at his body before he stumbled, rather gracefully if there ever was a graceful stumble, out onto the platform, his mother close behind him.
The conductor took his trunk and he made his way for the train. He stopped to examine those who had arrive already and scoffed when he saw Harry Potter and Ron and Ginny Weasley talking in a group by the Weasley adults. He cocked an eyebrow curiously when he noticed that Hermione was not with them. After he had examined the platform rather meticulously and found no sign of a glittering gold badge with the initials of Head Girl on it, he entered the train and headed down the train corridor. He stopped, however, when he heard a retching sound coming from the nearby lavatory. He looked at the door and noticed it was ajar and a foot was sticking out. He pushed it open slightly and looked in to find Hermione on her knees before the toilet, vomiting in.
"Well, well," he drawled and Hermione flinched. Draco smirked his normal, arrogant smirk. "Look what kind of position I've found our little mudblood in."
Draco watched at Hermione tried to draw herself deeper into the bathroom. She brushed a piece of hair behind her ear, wiped her mouth with a handkerchief, and then looked up at him. She was pale and her hair was mussed. She looked tired. She stood up and started to move toward Draco.
"Woah, Granger," he snapped. "Don't you even think of vomiting on me!"
Hermione made an angry face, grabbed the door handle to the lavatory, and slammed it in his face. Draco, however, had noticed something gleaming on Hermione's chest and groaned. 'She's Head Girl?'
Hermione whimpered and tumbled back in front of the toilet, vomiting again and gripping the side of the toilet as if she were afraid it was going to suck her in. After she was all vomited out, she flushed the toilet, and rested her head on one of the walls. She took a breath mint, which she had "conveniently" bought at a muggle gas station, and popped it into her mouth before wiping any signs of vomit from her face, spraying some sweet perfume on her body, and fixing her hair. She stood up and dusted off her clothes. She was going to exit the lavatory when suddenly, the train jerked and she toppled backward onto a wall. The train and started to leave the platform.
She finally managed to leave enclosed space and started checking the compartments for Ron or Harry. After several failed attempts ("Lavender! Seamus! That is very un-student-like behavior! Get off each other!"), she finally found Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna Lovegood sitting in a compartment together.
"Room for one more," said Ron with a smile.
"There had better be," Hermione joked, sitting next to Ginny and across from Neville.
"Where were you, Hermione?" asked Harry.
"Girls' lavatory," she said automatically. No one thought twice.
"You smell nice, 'Mione," commented Ginny. "Smells like jasmine."
"Oh, that's my new perfume," Hermione replied.
"I can smell it all the way over here," said Ron, who was sitting by the window, the furthest away from Hermione. "Did you bathe in it? Are you trying to impress someone?"
"Of course not! It's just strong is all! I only sprayed myself twice," Hermione blurted, rather quickly. "I'll be back."
"Where are you going?" asked Harry, watching as Hermione opened the door.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" snapped Ron. Hermione looked up and indeed, there was Draco, standing with his hand poised to open the door.
"Nothing from you, Weasel," returned Draco, just as harsh. "I'm here to see Granger."
"Me?" Hermione asked, looking suspicious.
"Yes, you, Granger," he drawled. "You're Head Girl, are you not?"
"Yes, I am," Hermione replied. "Why would that be of any importance to—Oh, no! You can't be—"
"I bloody well can, and I am!" he smirked, puffing out his chest and exposing the badge with the initials HB.
"Bloody hell! They chose you! They could've had me but they chose you?" Harry snapped, getting to his feet.
"Maybe they thought you were a little too much of an over-achiever, Potty!" Draco retorted. "Besides, I've got second best marks in this school, so I deserve it."
"Yeah, second to Hermione," Ron grunted, twisting his little finger in his ear as if cleaning it. Hermione's face turned slightly pink and she grabbed the sleeve of Draco's robe.
"Let's go before there's a row," she started and dragged the platinum blonde out of the compartment, making sure to the door.
"Don't touch me, mudblood," he snapped, prying her fingers off his robes.
"Listen, Malfoy," she growled, shoving her finger in his face. "I won't put up with you this year! If I have to live with you, I won't be afraid to be drastic when push comes to shove! Now, let's go to this meeting with the prefects because I won't be responsible if something goes wrong because we weren't there to instruct them!"
"Now, you listen, Granger!" Draco yelled, striding in-step beside Hermione. "You won't boss me around this year! I won't have any of that! Remember your place, mudblood, and we'll see if we can come to an agreement!"
He pushed the door open and Hermione's mouth, which had been open and ready to screech a protest back at Draco, snapped shut. She looked and saw eight prefects sitting in seats surrounding the Head Boy's seat and the Head Girl's seat. Hermione sat down and Draco, reluctantly, took the seat beside her. She folded her arms over her chest and surveyed the lot. All, except for the Slytherins of course, were staring rather wearily at Draco. Hermione cleared her throat and all eyes were on her, though two pairs of them looked mutinous (Slytherins again).
"Well, we are, unfortunately, the Heads, as it is obvious from our badges," Hermione announced.
"Obviously," murmured Draco and Hermione shot him a look that could kill.
"I'm not sure if you're aware, but you, being prefects, have specific obligations and privileges. Please be fair in using your rights as prefects," Hermione explained. "If you don't, you will be forced to surrender your badge and prefect duties to us. You will officially be out of the running for Head Boy or Head Girl in your seventh year. Understood?"
A Slytherin prefect, Hazel Redbee, raised her hand. "Mr. Malfoy, do we really have to take orders from her this year?" she asked, pointing a pale, bony finger at Hermione, whose eyebrows raised.
"Unfortunately, since she does have the power, yes, you do," Draco replied. Hermione glared at him. Both of the Slytherin prefects groaned.
"Well, this meeting is over," Hermione said. "You're to do rounds once every three hours after classes and at least five times on weekends. While you're on Hogwarts Express, you are required to do your rounds at least twice. Anyone one seen shirking their duties will be suspended as a prefect and have house points taken. You may go back to your compartments if you wish, or you may remain here."
Hermione got to her feet and started for the compartment door. She was about to leave when she stopped and looked at Draco with narrowed eyes. He smirked at her.
"I won't have any of your…egotistical nonsense this year, Malfoy! I mean it," she snapped.
"And I won't have any of you bossy bookworm-ness this year, either, mudblood," he smirked and chuckled maliciously when she slammed the door and stomped off down the corridor toward her own compartment.