Disclaimer: Yeah…I don't own Harry Potter. (I wouldn't want to either! The thought of Harry, chained, in leather, to my bed would be kind of awkward.

Me: AHH! …Oh…Hi Harry…err

Harry: Yeah. I'm still here. Did you forget again?

Me: hahaha…no

Harry: …yeah…right)

Plot: Draco's in a pickle. He's stuck at Hogwarts for another, final, year with his boring fanboys (Crabbe/Goyle) and his crazy stalker, Pansy, and the time is growing closer and closer for Draco to choose his ultimate occupation. Should he stand up to his father and decide to take a normal wizarding life (however normal a wizarding life is..) or will he go down the dark path of a death eater? On the flip side of things, Hermione is feeling miserable about seventh year because for some reason, she had not been chosen to be head girl. The head girl was some girl she'd never even heard of before! Cecila Wendlen! So Hermione isn't really feeling the whole "bookworm" label this year. And Luna Lovegood is wafting around the school too. She's Hagrid's right wing these days since she's decided to head towards caring for magical creatures. (Even the ones no one has ever heard of..)

Chapter 1- Damn Fiddletots!

/Draco\\

I sighed irritably. Goyle was enthusiastically picking his nose and Crabbe had found a piece of biscuit on the floor and was, much like a rat, licking it off of the floor.

"You two make me absolutely sick," I said, curling my upper lip in disgust.

Goyle slowly pulled his finger out of his brain and Crabbe gently lifted his face up into my holy direction and they both, simultaneously, started to sob uncontrollably.

"Gack!" I said, throwing my hands over my ears, "Quit that!"

Instead, rather than heeding my order, they got considerably louder and snot began to profusely leak out of their noses. My eyes rolled up into my head and I could almost feel my face turning green. Mucus was absolutely the most repulsive thing that the body produces.

Then Crabbe started to shake his head a little bit while still crying like a midget troll, but as I shouted "shut up" for the 3rd time, Crabbe started to shake his head more violently and managed to fling a substantial amount of mucus right onto my newly polished shoe.

My eyes enlarged and my cheeks puffed out as I watched the slimy yellowish green snot ball roll slowly off of my left shoe, leaving a shiny wet residue in its wake.

Time slowed down as I stared, horrified, at this abomination on my left shoe. There was laughing in the background as I imagined the disgusting residue sinking through my shoe and onto my sock (brand new, top-of-the-line, green wool socks!) and then sinking through the contaminated sock and touching my perfect, moisturized, alabaster skin!

Horror-stricken, I felt a poke on my shoulder. I turned around violently and threw up all over the unlucky person standing too close behind me and promptly passed out.

/Hermione\\

…?

……….!

…………………………………………………………………………..!

MALFOY JUST THREW UP ON ME! #$&$ GIT!

Harry and Ron were the ones that started to laugh insanely upon finding the sight of Crabbe and Goyle and I'M the one who gets puked on! YUCK!

I mean, sure, I giggled a little bit as we saw Crabbe and Goyle falling all over each other, sobbing like idiots, but I was JUST trying to get past Malfoy to get to my Arithmancy class! I wasn't even going to say anything! Honest! (…Hehe well maybe I would have said something sharp and snide…but only a LITTLE comment! Not a paragraph or anything! Geez!)

Now here I am, dripping in Malfoy's filth. …I'm totally going to be late for Arithmancy. Nooooooo..!

"Malfoy," I said darkly, fully aware that he could not hear me since he was passed out at my feet, "I promise to torture you relentlessly for making me late for Arithmancy…"

"Blimey…" Ron said, gulping, "Hermione sure gets scary sometimes."

"Yeah," Harry said, shaking his head, "But that was a good laugh, wasn't it? Hey, we're going to be late for Charms. Let's go Ron."

Harry and Ron walked calmly past everyone and disappeared around the corner of the hallway.

My best friends love and support me so much…NOT! I AM SO GOING TO HAVE THEIR HEADS ON A PLATTER TOO!

"…Hermione?" a dreamy voice said quizzically from behind me.

I turned to meet the probing eyes of Luna Lovegood. Great. Like I really wanted to talk to psychopath right now.

"Yes?" I said in a very steely tone.

"…That color doesn't suit you much," she said, in a very serious tone.

I stared at her…

And stared at her…

"Actually I think red is a very flattering color for you. I guess it's a good thing you're in Gryffindor," she smiled.

"…I'm not in a very amusing mood, Luna," I said, in an even more steely tone, "I think you should just get to class."

"What's wrong with him?" she asked, pointing at Malfoy.

"…He just threw up all over me. I guess he doesn't feel well."

"What a shame," Luna said, frowning, "I'll help you take him to the infirmary."

I really hadn't planned on taking Malfoy anywhere. I planned on leaving him laying there, drooling, in the middle of the hallway, with his two blithering fools. Actually, I would have liked to have hexed him to hang from the ceiling in nothing but his shorts and turned his hair pink.

"You can take him where ever you want," I said, turning around, "I'm going to the lavatory to clean up."

Then I left, turning the corner, leaving the mess to Luna.

/Luna\\

I didn't really know what to do with the two other boys, still whimpering a bit, so I just left them be. They'd probably wander away eventually.

I levitated the blonde boy quite easily and took him to the infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey quickly got to work.

Madam Pomfrey favored me quite a bit (or pitied me, I couldn't really tell which) so she let me sit around until he woke up.

I was sleeping lucidly until he woke up. He looked awfully familiar. Too bad I'm terrible at placing names with faces unless I knew them fairly well.

He looked at me strangely.

"Bonjour!" I said, saluting him, "Tres bien?"

"We're in England, woman," he said, "Speak English."

"Well I thought you might be French."

"Why would you think that I came from France? I'm obviously a student here at Hogwarts since I have Slytherin robes on. And Hogwarts is an ENGLISH school for witchcraft and wizardry."

"Well Werbers, magical hair fairies of course, usually like to give your distinct color of blonde hair to French people."

"I'm a Malfoy. All Malfoys have my 'distinct color of blonde hair.'"

"Did your family originate in France?"

"No!" he said, "Who ARE you anyway!"

"My name is Luna Lovegood," I said, dazing dreaming at a Werber that was standing on the boy's head.

"Lovegood? Sounds familiar. Your dad runs that cooky newspaper doesn't he? The Bibbler? No…The…Giggler? I'm close, don't tell me," the boy said, putting his hand over his head, "Kikkler? Mimbler? No, no. The Quibbler!"

"Right," I said.

"Figures," the boy said, "You babble on like you're neurotic or something. And all the articles in the Quibbler seem to babble on quite like you. It's all a bunch of nonsense."

"Half the things you worry about I think is nonsense. So I suppose that makes us even."

"You don't know anything about me. So I rather think you don't have the authority to make that judgement."

"Oh, I disagree," I said, resting my head on my hand, "You're a Malfoy right? Which means you associate with that Dark chump. And even thinking about anything related to him or his issues is ridiculous to me. I mean, sure, conforming to society is a waste of time, so I guess more power to him, but all he wants to do is dictate things. I don't see how that can do anything besides hinder things. Not to mention his method of dictating, torturing and that bit."

The boy looked at me strangely again.

"I mildly pay attention to political matters," I offered, giving a small smile.

"Well," the boy said, clearing his throat, "I suppose it's been a…new experience, meeting someone as odd as you."

"I never did quite catch your full name," I replied serenely.

"Draco Malfoy. Seventh year," he said, sitting up.

"Oh," I said, nodding slightly, "I think I've heard Harry talk about you before."

Draco made an amusing chorkle and then said, "My relationship with Potter is strictly based on ridicules and taunts. I find him dull, at best."

"That's a shame," I sighed, "He's nice."

"Nice isn't a substitution for wit, charm or interests I'm afraid," Draco replied coolly, getting off of his bed.

"I suppose…" I said, dazing at the Werbers again.

Draco paused before walking past me. He stuck out his hand in my direction. I looked at it, tilting my head to the side.

"It's a handshake," Draco said, snorting a bit, "Respectable witches and wizards usually shake hands with a person they've just met if they find them to be in equal retrospect."

"I knew that," I said, standing up and shaking his hand.

My, what a firm grip. He all but crushed my hand and swung it violently.

"Oh," he said, looking at our hands after seeing my eyes widen at them, "Does that hurt? Sorry, I'm not really use to shaking hands with women." He loosened his grip, "My father always taught me to have a tight grip."

"It's fine," I said, letting my hand drop back down to my side.

"See you around," Draco said, turning and leaving the infirmary.

I watched his back as he left. He was an odd person indeed.

"By the way," he said, turning around and walking backwards, "Thanks."

He winked and began walking forwards again.

I swallowed and felt my cheeks blush. Horrible, Fiddletots! But I felt a weird feeling in my stomach. Had I just made a new friend?

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A/N: Weird huh? Well I haven't decided whether it's going to be Dramione or Luco. Review!