Author's Awkward Compliments: There is something I have to say, because if I don't tell someone I will be at a serious risk to my sanity. There is a hot guy I know named Christian, and he thinks I'm hot too! Whew… You see, I couldn't put it on my Xanga because… well… I don't think I know the reason, but I'm sure it's a good one. And now, Lovelies, back to your daily lives! Off with you! Oh, and, I'm terribly sorry for turning Hermione into a whore in this chapter, but you know, the story begs to be told, and who am I to deny it's wishes?

Review Responses (No Purchase Necessary, Details Inside):

kagomesdance: thanks! Me neither… God damn I'm impatient! Haha…

Roxxi05: I do love you, Darlin'!

karlysemora: I like it too, Karletta. Have fun at your school dance or whatever the fuck it is.

Hermione went back to her room to take a much needed shower. As she lathered herself she thought of Harry.

He's not too bad looking… He's actually kinda cute!

Wait… Am I rebounding? I don't think so… Holy shit! I am rebounding! That isn't good… I hope I'll have some self control tonight.

Hermione put on a blue camisole, blue jeans and some gray house slippers. She thought of the hair clip and trotted into the kitchen to fetch it. She looked at herself in the mirror, admiring the way the clip shimmered in the lamp light. She didn't bother with makeup, what was the point? Instead, she conjured herself some cocoa and a blueberry muffin. Hermione picked up a copy of The Daily Prophet and stared at the cover with a slight frown.

"Oh, that's terrible," she muttered. The paper read:

Today, the thirtieth of August, Gilderoy Lockhart was found dead in his infirmary bed late this morning. The cause of the death: a very nasty case of laceration to the head, legs and arms. One thing is for certain; the death was no accident. A torn up piece of parchment, with no apparent writing on it, was found at the scene of the crime. Detectives and Aurors alike think that this could be a vital clue.

The Minister of Magic, Louis Prithus, had this to say; "The reason for the killing is unknown at this point, but some of our detectives say that Lockhart, when still sane long ago, made petty deals with some of the worst wizards…no doubt one of them did this to him."

Hermione looked at the picture of Lockhart; it was a really nasty death. Hermione couldn't stand to look at it any longer and put it down wondering…

Who would have done something so horrible?

One name came to mind.

Malfoy.

She would speak to Harry about this tonight, maybe they could bring out the old Trio for some more detective work… She laughed dryly and thought of the old days. When everything was just a big mystery waiting to be solved. How fun they came to be, how exciting and exhilarating. But then, they didn't need adventures to be exhilarated anymore. Ron had found drugs; Harry found his love of trying to get all kinds of women, just to see if they would give him their number; and Hermione, well Hermione, she had the drink.

#$&#$&#$&

Hermione's cocoa drained too fast and night came too soon. She wondered why time flew so quickly. At any rate, Hermione put on a black Rolling Stones tee shirt and some black Adidas. She apparated, reluctantly, to Diagon Alley.

She was left waiting outside the Menagerie for about twelve minutes before Harry showed up. He did look good. His hair was shaggy and his sense of style had gotten better. "Hello there. Thanks for showing up," she joked as she embraced him.

"So… Um, how's life?" Harry asked.

"Not too good, and you?" she snippily replied.

"Actually, life has been treating me pretty well lately… I met this gorgeous girl named Amanda. She's so cool, too! She's a doctor in the Muggle world, because she's a Squib. We're seeing each other now."

"Joy," Hermione's words soaked with sarcasm. Harry looked at Hermione in a way he had never looked at her before. As if he loved her or something. Like a sister, mind you. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like I'm your bloody pet or something…" Hermione told him as if he was an idiot.

"Oh. Because... I don't know. I care about you a lot. And I feel so bad about this whole thing with Ron--"

"Oh, Jesus! Is this what it's about, now! Can't we just forget about Ron for two seconds! I'm so sick of that asshole. I'm sick of thinking about him, of talking about him, of dreaming about him, for Christ's sake!"

Harry looked down at his shoes and muttered an apology. Hermione thanked him for his time, and explained to him that if this was the reason he had called her here tonight, she wasn't interested. She apparated home.

"That was a bloody waste of time…" Hermione said to herself as she reached for the liquor cabinet.

Several hours later, Hermione was doubled over throwing up in a trash barrel. She puked until nothing came out but bile. Vomit caked her hair as she fell asleep, exhausted from the night's events.

#$&#$&#$&

It was September first when Hermione woke up. She hurried her ass to the shower and got dressed. She packed and apparated to the Train Station. Hermione was hauling her luggage down the narrow hallway when someone grabbed her ass. She whipped around to see it was… Draco Malfoy. His face stained with horror as much as hers. He obviously thought it was someone else's ass he was groping. Hermione's shocked face turned into a coy smile. Malfoy was fucking hot this year. Screw the Houses; screw Malfoy's opinions; and damn his vile pure blood; Hermione no longer cared.

She winked at Draco and whispered in his ear, "See you around… Draco." He looked as stunned as ever as Hermione traced his jaw line and walked away. Hermione was proud of what she had done. It felt good to be so-er-friendly to someone she would have normally cursed. It felt so awesome to break the boundaries. She loved the thrill.

Hermione picked one of the compartments near the middle of the train which no one had inhabited yet. She wondered when Harry would get here when suddenly a knock came from the door. It was Malfoy again, this time he had his patented smirk on his face. She opened the door and immediately Malfoy pulled her into a kiss. They started making out for while until—"Hermione! What the hell are you doing!" Harry shouted.

She turned towards him, "Fuck off, Harry." Malfoy sniggered at Hermione's words and kissed her again.

He whispered to her, "See you around, Hermione…" and left. Hermione stared at his ass until he went into his compartment.

"Hermione, what the hell just happened?" Harry asked again.

Hermione thought she should give him an explanation; he was, after all, her best friend. "Well, I thought he was hot this year… So I hit on him. I mean, damn the consequences and damn what everyone thinks of me. I shouldn't be told what to do on other people's opinions. I'll be who I am and I'm just fine with that, thank you."

"I guess you're right. Just be careful with Malfoy, he could hurt you…"

"Now what are you on? That wasn't anything. We're not together or anything now. That was just some fun, Harry. It didn't mean anything. Just like this," Hermione kissed Harry full on and dirty.

When Hermione pulled away, Harry was panting slightly. Hermione giggled. "Holy Hell, Hermione… You can really kiss!" Harry leaned in for more but Hermione swatted him away. She stared out the window at the midday, blue sky. She thought of what life was, and how it affected everyone and what would happen after everyone died. She came up to a conclusion of what to with her chance with life. Her theory was this:

Live life to its fullest, because remember, the things your scared to do, always turn out to be the most worthwhile.