Muggle World

Chapter Seven:

You're Head Boy!

The four students' backs faced the Hogwarts Express, taking their turns kissing and hugging Mrs. And Mr. Weasley and then shake hands with the twins who also appeared to wave them off. When George got to Harry, he pumped his hand over exaggeratedly and said, "Have a great last year, mate—all of you." He then looked over at Ginny and patted her head sympathetically. "Well, except you, sis; you've still got another year before the grown-up world." Fred started laughing and then both hugged an irritated Ginny before she stomped off to the train.

After her, the Golden Trio followed, waving good-bye to the small gathering. Hermione started walking towards the front, where she was told to go to meet the Head Boy, but Harry grabbed her arm that was holding Crockshanks' cage. She turned around to face him. "Hey, why don't you come sit with us for a bit?" the raven-haired boy asked. "You know, to catch up with old friends and all."

Hermione hesitated, wanting badly to run into the heads' compartment and discover whom the boy she'd be living with for the year would be. But then she changed her mind. 'Stop being so obsessive,' she said to herself. 'You'll figure out in good time—so just relax for the time being.' "Yeah, alright. Let's go."

They walked to the back of the train and found Ron and Ginny all ready seated in a compartment—along with some other kids. Hermione noticed them to be Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Seamus, and Dean; they were all fellow Gryffindors. Well, except for Luna—they'd be no way that chick would ever make a lion. The two best friends entered the compartment and greeted all the students with pats on the backs, handshakes and hugs. It was like a mini reunion.

Hermione was going over to Luna for a friendly hug, but the crazy Ravenclaw held her at arms length by her shoulders. She looked her up and down with examining eyes, causing Hermione to feel quite uncomfortable. "Jeez, Herm," Luna said, "whatcha do to yourself? You look…weird."

A blush covered her whole face and she pushed out of her grasp. "You don't like it, huh?" she asked embarrassed. "Well, it's a Muggling style and all my friends liked it so…"

A catcall was heard behind her and Hermione turned around to see Seamus grinning like an idiot and the other boys laughing. Neville spoke up: "I think what Seamus is trying to say is that you like bloody good, Herm."

"Yeah, seriously," Dean supplied, Seamus eyeing her like a puppy; she knew he had to be over exaggeration. Her blush brightened as she stole a glance at Seamus too—Hermione had to admit: the boy looked great (A/N: I don't know what Seamus actually looks like…anyone wanna give a description, please? Lol). Then she remembered what her "goal of the year" was… 'Maybe Seamus and I could possibly get together,' Hermione thought with a shy and timid smile, looking down and swaying her hips nervously. 'I can't back out…I need to be a girl, like Emily said.' But still, it just didn't feel right…

"Thanks, guys," she murmured, sitting down in a window seat, making sure her skirt didn't ride up. "I just thought it was comfortable is all…" Lie, and probably the biggest one she'd ever made. If anything, the outfit was frustrating; always making sure the skirt was pulled down and then the ability of walking in it. God knows why she went through with it.

"Well, it's bloody awesome." Everyone sat down as well and Neville asked, "So is that what you're gonna be wearing all year, 'Mione? Like all the other girls now?"

She blushed again, sadly hating that she wasn't part of "all the other girls." What was she, turning into a prep? 'No, that's insane,' Hermione reassured herself. 'You're feeling left out is all.' "Uh, not really," she finally answered. "Only on special occasions, or if I'm lucky enough to get a date this year. But other than that, no; I'll still be the same old girl." She reached up to brush a hand thought her hair when she realized that she had putted it up that morning. "Some of my Muggle Friends just filled me in on some new styles going around."

There were nods and small comments before they moved on to a different discussion with one another. Hermione leaned back in her seat and stared out the window as the forest scenery flashed by and enjoyed the warmth and chatter of her friends so close. Then Ginny's loud voice jolted her back to reality. "Oh my God, Herm! I forgot—we all forgot."

"Huh, what?" she asked, confused and shocked by the red head's sudden out burst.

Ginny jumped out of Harry's arms and pointed to her best friend's waist. "I totally forgot. Hey, guys—guess who made Head!"

"Hermione!" Neville, Seamus, and Dean gave her praise just like the others, telling they knew she'd be and asking to see the badge. She took it off the waist belt on her skirt, forgetting that she'd put it there because the material of her white tank top was too thin to support its weight. Smiling proudly, Hermione handed it to the boys and watched as they crowded around, flipping and rotating the badge in close examination.

"Speaking of Heads," Ron spoke, angry for some reason she knew not of, "shouldn't you be in the front? That's what the letter said at least."

"Yeah." Hermione stood up and smiled warmly at everyone. "Its about time I get going. We should be departing soon." She picked up Crockshanks' cage again along with a carry-on backpack. "I'll see you all at the sorting, okay? 'Bye." She exited the compartment with good-byes still coming out from it.

Ginny stoop as well. "I better be getting as well. I have to stop by my friend's normal compartment to say hi. Be right back." With that she blew a kiss in Harry's direction and exited the room.

Sighing, Hermione started for the front again, making sure not to hit the cage against anything. Who was going to be Head Boy? 'Draco, please let it be Draco…' Would they get along—did they know each other? 'I better well know him. And I better have kissed him!' Finally she reached her destination: on the door was written nicely, "Head Boy and Head Girl." Her stomach flipped as she stood in front of the door, her muscles tensing even though she told then to relax. 'Just get it over with!' she mentally shouted at herself. And before she could back down again, Hermione swung open the door; her mouth hung open at the seventh year Slytherin who sat casually on one side of the compartment. "You're joking… You're Head Boy?"

--------Back to the Gryffindors!…and the Ravenclaw---------

The group of friends were being their usual selves: Luna was reading the Quibbler intently (count on her to have it upside down), Ron and Harry deep in a conversation about the new Quidditch season this year, Neville ranting on about how his Grandmother said once his father had found five buger and three puke flavored Berty-Bots Every Flavored Beans in only one bag while Seamus was listening, shoving the same candy in his mouth; Dean just sat staring out the window, softly singing a Muggles' favorite, I Miss You, by the artist Blink 182.

Suddenly Luna folded her paper and tapped Ron on the shoulder. "Huh?" he said, looking over at the crazed girl next to him. She leaned in closer and whispered something into his ear, causing the boy to blush brighter than his hair. "Of course I'm not jealous!" he screamed. The compartment became quiet, all eyes on him. Mumbling under his breath, Ron bowed his head so they couldn't see his burning cheeks.

"Ur…" Harry exchanged glances with everyone before turned to the only girl in the room. "What did you say to him, Luna?" he asked the Ravenclaw.

Luna blinked at him blankly. "Oh, noting out of the ordinary. I just asked him if he was jealous of Seamus because—" Before she could finish though Ron had clamped his hand over her big mouth. But they already heard enough. The boys started snickering; Seamus sat there grinning stupidly. Ron abruptly stood up, giving them the bird before stomping out of the train compartment, muttering curses all the way.

Harry stood as well, ready to chase after his best mate, but as soon as he left, his little sister walked in, frowning at the direction he had went off in. "What's up with him?" Ginny huffed; Harry grabbed her arm and flopped back on his seat, his girlfriend landing on his lap. Giggling, she said, "It's nice to see you again, too, Harry." She straightened up and repeated her earlier question. "So what's the matter with Ron? He looked pretty flushed."

Neville was the first to speak. "Ron is upset because Seamus has taken a liking to 'Mione," he chirped, putting it short and simple.

"Hey, sorry if I've got a good taste as well," Seamus laughed. He then became serious. "She's matured a lot over the summer—and I don't mean smart wise." More snickering and elbowing. "What more can a guy ask for? A nice body, sexy style, great hair, perfect lips—ouch!"

Ginny had taken off one of her shoes and threw it pinpoint at his head; she grinned at her exact aim. "Oops, I'm sorry, Seamus. Did I hit you?" she said in a sarcastically sweet voice.

Laughing, the Boy Who Lived hugged his girl friend close to his chest, resting his chin on her head. "I think what she means, Seamus, is that you probably shouldn't talk like that in front of Hermione's best friends. Sorry, mate, but I seriously don't find it comfortable talking about her like that. You know."

"Yeah, really," Luna added in. "Believe it or not, I am not a lesbian." This started a whole new uproar of laughter from everyone. Loony Lovegood just stared at them blankly, not getting what was so hilarious. Giving a clear daze, she lifted the upside-down Quibbler, hiding behind it as usual. "Some times I just don't get you lot of Gryffindors."

Once they had calmed down, Ginny spoke. "Well, I guess he deserves it—Ron, I mean," she said. "He and Hermione have liked each other for years now, but neither admitted to it." Everyone agreed, nodding their heads. The pair couldn't be more obvious. "It could just be me, but they seem to be a bit more…comfortable around each other, like they're back to only best friends. And boy, do I hope so! Remember last year when Ron was with Lavender! What a ruckus!"

All of them started laughing once more. "Yeah, I remember that!" Harry grinned. "That was so annoying—Hermione was jealous beyond belief!" Thus began the chat about the "good ole times" (also known a the stupid things they had done in their past years at Hogwarts). After a while Harry brought the subject up again. "Ginny's right, you know: Hermione hasn't been taking much notice to Ron's teasing. Is it just me or…does she seemed to have changed over the summer?"

Seamus snorted and yelled, "Hell yeah! That's what I said!" Laughing their heads off, they hit the boy playfully.

"But really," Harry continued. "She seems a bit more relaxed and laid back lately." Ginny, who still sat on his lap, nodded. "Well, it's for the best of things; hopefully it will help her get along with the new Head Boy."

"Who is Head Boy, anyway?" the red head asked, looking up at her boyfriend who just shrugged. "Well, who were all the sixth year perfects? The boys, at least."

"Ron, Ernie Macmillan, Draco Malfoy, and Anthony Goldstein," Neville said, pride on his chubby face, soon replaced with fear. "You don't suppose Malfoy is a Head, do you? Dumbledore wouldn't even think about that…right? Putting Hermione and him together…" He shuddered. (A/N: Dumbledore is alive, I say! ALIVE!)

Twirling a strand of red-orange hair around his finger, Harry shrugged. "Dunno." He kissed it, causing the girl in his lap to giggle, and then let it untwine. "Dumbledore knows how much we hate that bastard's guts… Then again he's always looking for some way to bond people together." An uneasy silence. "But even he has to get that Slytherin and Gryffindor are never, never going to get along."

---------Back to the Heads!--------

Sparkling dark eyes bore into hers. His dark hair was pulled back into a short, low ponytail that looked like it wouldn't last if he just simply turned his head (this bothered Hermione to the extreme, seeing as a boy shouldn't have their hair up in the first place) (A/N: unless it's a cute anime guy lol). He wore a toothy grin, causing his Italian face to brighten; it seemed perfectly flawless. Having changed so much, it took Hermione a moment to place him.

"Hermione Jane Granger," he said, an irresistible accent rolling off his lips. "Just as I suspected, eh?"

"Blaise Zabini," she said in turn, keeping her place at the entry. "But I'm afraid I can't say the same about you."

Chuckling, he stretched his body—which she found quite masculine—all the way out on his seat, feet dangling over and head resting against a pillow he'd propped on the window. "So, are you gonna come in?" he asked, smiling slightly. "Don't worry—I don't bite. Maybe some Slytherins, but not me." His relaxed and his calm manner made Hermione some how find a bit of peace. She gingerly walked in fully, shut the door behind, and then took her seat opposite of the young man. Placing the cat carriage next to her, she stuck a finger in the wired door; the feline fur ball within sniffed it and meowed, nudging it with his nose softly. Blaise lay there dreamily, staring at the Gryffindor and her cat with interest. "Why not take it out?"

Hearing his voice, Hermione jerked her head up to look at him. "Huh? Oh." It took her a second to register what he had said. "Students aren't allowed to let their pets loose in the compartments: it's a new rule. And, us being Heads, I think we should oblige and set the right example—"

"Because we are the Heads, everyone is to knock before entering our room," Blaise stated with a smirk. "So if need be, we could quickly put the cat up before bidding in our guest. Come on, please? I just wanna see the little fur ball." He pulled out his bottom lip into a puppy-pout—a face Hermione never thought a Slytherin could pull off. She hesitated for another moment before unlatching the cage door and flinging it open. A flat, tubby orange cat poked its head out, giving a small curious meow. She heard a muffled laugh and knew Blaise was surprised at her pet's shabby appearance. Then again, everyone always did the same.

Jumping out of his carrier, the feline easily landed on the ground. He looked about—eyes finally resting on the snickering boy. They both locked stares, neither of them blinking nor making a single move, for sure they'd be able to sense it. After a while the cat took a step towards him, then another, and another until he was at his feet. Crouching down, he then leapt up onto his lap. Blaise grinned in triumph, patting him on the head. "Good girl! What's her name?" he asked, looking up at he cat's owner.

"Crockshanks is a boy actually," she corrected.

"Oh, sorry," the Slytherin said, rolling his eyes playfully. "Good boy." He scratched the cat in the hallow of his left cheek as though he knew all along that was his tender spot. Hermione just sat there watching, taking the time to fully drink in the new Head Boy's presence. He wore an expensive green and silver robe, making it clear whose house he belonged to. The thing that caught her attention though was it was not the custom long sleeved, but short, leaving tan muscular arms bear to the world. Her eyes traveled down to where the robe ended at his knees and then was taken over by the regular black slacks—only these seemed to be jeans, the seams sown of silver tread; the bottoms covered up most of his black shoes.

Getting a full, she finally looked back up—only to find herself trapped in Blaise's gaze, his dark eyes sparkling. "I—I—well, I—" She stuttered, not sure how to explain herself. Thankfully he spoke before she became a total fool.

"Well, well. Its good to know someone finds me admirable enough to stare at. And I must say, you're not a bad sight this year, either."

Hermione glared at him, mouth gapped open. "N—no! That's not what I meant! Yeah, you're admirable, but I—I was just wondering…" Trying to think quickly, she felt her side, feeling cool metal beneath her fingertips. "…where your badge is. I mean, you did get one, right?"

He smiled genuinely, now scratching Crockshanks behind the ears, whom in turn was purring softly. "Are you calling me a fraud, Hermione?" he questioned. "I'm ashamed! Of course I got one—along with the letter. Though I didn't wear it. This material is way too fragile for its weight."

"Where is it then?" the girl asked, still embarrassed.

"In my bag." He pointed above where a handbag sat on a metal luggage over-head.

"Could you show it to me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm too lazy at the moment."

Hermione couldn't help but grin. 'Boys will be boys.' "What about the letter? Do you have that?" Sure, she understood how teenaged boys worked—take her two best friends for example! But still, she needed proof before convinced; she had always been like this.

Blaise shook his head, pointing upwards again. "It's with the badge." Seeing the worried frown on her face, he continued. "If you still don't believe me, I could recite it for you." Clearing his throat, Blaise mocked the same words her note had said, of course with a different name:

Dear Mr. Zabini,

We are pleased to inform you that you were selected this year to become Head Boy of Hogwarts. Only two students were selected for this honor, as you very well know.

On the Hogwarts Express, we would appreciate if you would kindly sit in the Head's compartment where you will meet your new roommate (the other Head) and be instructed further on your duties and rules by a professor.

We hope that the rest of your summer break goes well and that you enjoy this news.

Sincerely yours,

The Hogwart's Staff

The Gryffindor nodded, now positive. Who else would take the time to memorize it? "Okay, now that we've got that cleared up, I think that it would only make sense if we learned a bit of each other. I mean, we will be living together for the last year. We should get to know one another, set the example by getting along.

"All right." He let the cat jump back to the ground, letting him sniff his surroundings and then prance onto Hermione's lap. "How 'bout this: Twenty Questions." At the spark in her brown orbs, Blaise could tell she like the idea. "You go first."

"Um, okay. Who do you envy the most at Hogwarts?"

"Good question. And I'd have to answer my best mate, Draco Malfoy." The answer was simple and sweet but still cut though her like a knife. How she had hoped it was he she was having this conversation with right then… But it wasn't. Hermione couldn't help but wonder why the dark haired boy envied him. Didn't they have the same money, the same blood?

Blaise began to speak again. "Great! My turn. Hrm… Let's see… Okay, so what would you prefer: a red rose, or yellow?"

Hermione pondered on this for a minute, stroking Crockshanks' long wild hair. 'A yellow rose," she finally said, "because red is so abundant, so common. Yellow is a color of life and hope, it's a color that is beautifully unique." Her eyes grew softer as she continued. "The grand thing about roses though is that no matter what color or form, a rose's fragrance will always be the same. Weather it's petals are wilted from the lack of water and too much sun, or has delicately been cared for into a perfect bloom, it will always smell as sweet as the other."

Blaise stared at her for a moment, taking in the last she said. Then: "Wow. Beautifully said, Hermione. As expected from our year's top student, huh?"

She smiled gratefully at him. "Thanks. It's my turn for a question now, right?" The boy across from her nodded. "Then my question is…why are you being so kind to me?" She hadn't realized this was subconsciously bugging her the while time until she said it. "Why are you calling me Hermione? Why not Mudblood, or Beaver, or ever just Granger! Like all the years before. I just don't understand this sudden change."

Looking up, she saw Blaise sternly gazing at her , causing her to squirm in the seat. "You've changed," he said in a low voice after a pause, "making others do the same to equal out. As much as I hate to admit it, I can't find it in me to call you Mudblood. New style, new hair, new posture—if you ask me you look just as good as any pureblood around."

Hermione wasn't sure if she should've taken this as an insult or compliment. So instead she simply went back to giving Crockshanks attention, muttering a , "Your turn," to Blaise.

"Do you enjoy being called the 'bookworm'?"

"No." The single word came out sharper and harsher than she'd meant. "Would you enjoy it? I use to not care, but…I guess I just can't stand the taunting anymore, you know? I've grown up being taught to be an individual. The hard part is all the pressure put on you. It just keeps gathering up!"

"Yeah," agreed Blaise, "you think you can handle it, but then it gets out of hand. Peer Pressure."

Solemnly nodding, she went on. "Next question. What's your best subject?"

"Potions. Snape says I'm a genius when it comes to his class."

"I hate that man—mostly because he hates us."

"Hm…I wonder how he'll react when I tell him this…"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Ha-ha. Kidding, I was just kidding."

"I didn't find it the least bit humorous."

"To Hell you didn't! Look, you're smiling."

"Am not!"

Abandoning their game of Twenty Questions, they ended up just chatting about random things: What books had she read recently; what harmless pranks he'd pulled off over the summer; opinions of clothing brands and styles; the scrawny looking first years; Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw; Quidditch World Tournament; how old Crockshanks was; other pets; guessing on how old their Head Master was; and pretty much everything over and in between those categories.

The train had long ago departed and was now racing through a thick forest, quickly moving to where the scenery was blurred. In about just another hour or two they'd be arriving at Hogwarts: Witchcraft and Wizardry, the school that had been practically home for them for the last six years.

Hermione found herself easily chatting and laughing, enjoying the only company in the compartment. Strange, seeing as it was a Slytherin.

Suddenly the compartment door swung open—and a boy with bleached blonde hair and icy-blue eyes stepped in; the Head Boy's badge was neatly pinned over his heart, gleaming brighter than the entire Perfects'.

Crockshanks meowed loudly and jumped out of Hermione's lap. "Wait!" she cried, getting up to stop him. But the cat had already maneuvered his way around the young man's feet and out in the hall. "Crap!"

"Blaise, could you please get out? This is for the Head's only." Draco's voice was cool, a hint of laughter hidden within his eyes.