Chapter Two - Hermione:

As the golden rays of sun danced across her face, Hermione arose to the beautiful smell of a drenched earth - grass fresh with clinging droplets and a crisp breath of morning air. Soil turned topside, Hogwarts grounds gleaming with the reflections of the sun in the soaked stone, the Head Girl's room flooded with sunlight, and brought with it the excited, nervous energy of a first day. Rising from her pillowy bed, Hermione glanced to her uniform neatly pressed and folded on the chair beside her, remembering her past night's careful planning, polished shoes shining by the door. "Today's going to be just fine" she advised herself, and determinedly rose, quiet feet padding their way to the washroom.

Opening the beautiful mahogany door, she entered her bathroom and found within it the touch of the elves who perfected its design to her. Pale yellows adorned the walls, sunlight streaming in through a giant window and highlighting paint streaks of orange and red - an eternal sunrise. Sink and deep bathtub of white stone, a simple oval mirror that reflected flushed cheeks, untamed curls, and a nervous yet radiant complexion of a woman determined to own her day. Fresh eucalyptus stemmed out of a dusted pink glass on her sink and the room smelled faintly of roses. Cracking open the window to let air in, Hermione breathed in deeply, and a wave of calm washed through her lungs with the flutter of white linen curtains. Washing her face with cool water, she took note of the summer's kisses freckled atop her skin. Like her mother used to, she pinched her cheeks, braided her hair into an elegant plait, clasped a dainty gold necklace around her neck, and spritzed a little wisp of vanilla between the heels of her hands, behind her ears, and down the sides of her neck. Turning to leave and catching her reflection in the mirror, "curious" she thought, as she noticed another wooden door in the back of the room. Walking up to it, she quietly turned the knob, but to her surprise found it locked. In the distance, she heard the clock tower chime eight times and all other thoughts flew out of her head.

With the excited energy of a first year, Hermione bounded down the steps of her tower to the Great Hall, bag swinging against her with the weight of her books, a catastrophic pendulum of danger to the other students who unfortunately happened to pass by her. Eyes sparkling at the view, she stopped in her tracks to take in the billowing steam rising from the thousands of plates before her; fresh eggs in every which way, perfectly melted butter coating the most outrageously beautifully toasted fresh bread, fruit muffins prodded with roasted nuts, black puddings, sausages, and ripe tomatoes scattered between bubbling pots of porridge, kettles of tea, and large baskets of sugary treats which made her tooth-health upbringing instinctively shudder. Finding the glaring orange mop completely face down in its plate, Hermione sat down beside her childhood mate and shook him awake. "Ronald, it's the first day. How could you possibly already be exhausted?" Handing him the chocolate croissant she picked up along the way, he glared back in response through heavy lidded eyes "'Mione, it's the first day. How could you possibly already be telling me off?". Smiling at the familial comfort of their rapport, Hermione turned to face the bespeckled boy across her and offered him a grin. "Hi, Harry" "Morning, 'Mione". Pulling a hot mug of green tea and some raspberry jam toward her, she began to liberally coat her toast, and catching up on their classes, duties, and Harry's quidditch schedule, the three decided upon visiting Hagrid after dinner, eager to see their friend both enormous in physical size and in heart.

Looking at her own timetable, Hermione noted the first thing on her day's list was a meeting with McGonagall regarding Head Girl duties, details, and meeting the Head Boy. Eager to see one of her most favorite professors again, she impatiently tapped her foot against the floor, willing time to pass by faster. Grabbing an orange and some biscuits off the table, Harry neatly folded them up into a napkin and passed them to his nearly vibrating friend – "Go, 'Mione.." he advised with twinkling eyes, "…before you knock all the food off our table". Jumping up as through a spring was coiled beneath her seat, she gratefully accepted, tossed the food into her bag, and throwing her boys a beaming smile, she briskly walked out of the dining hall, leaving two thirds of the golden trio shaking their heads in disbelief in her wake.

Re-engaging in her most obsessive game of late, Hermione started running through the names of all her classmates trying to place guesses on who she would be partnered with for the year. "It has to be a Ravenclaw" she convinced herself, knowing that Dumbledore would never pair two partners of the same house together, and foolishly doubting that he would ask her to partner with any idiot of the Slytherin lot. Almost crashing into, but stopping short of Professor McGonagall's office door, she closed her eyes and took a calming breath. Running her hand atop her hair and rolling her eyes at the mess of a plait she already felt uncoil beneath her, she touched her necklace briefly, straightened out, and knocked on the door. "Come on in, dear!" she heard, and pushed open the heavy wood to face the brilliant woman inside she so revered.

Bracing herself, the elderly professor self-assured that having survived through all that she did including the game of risk that was teaching at Hogwarts every day – she would get through this meeting. As a light blond head facing the professor turned towards the door, Hermione's smile quickly dropped. Chocolate eyes met silver, and a frigid horror of realization filled the room.

Chapter Two - Draco:

Awakened by the rich scent of fresh bread wafting through his room, Draco opened his eyes to a silver tray by the foot of his bed sinking under the weight of a full teapot, a plate of buttered toasts, and three hard boiled eggs. Groaning in appreciation in time with the grumbling of his stomach, Draco didn't even bother to question how the elves had known he would want to spend his morning in solitude, away from the fools that ran around the Great Hall like animals. Sipping his green tea, he stared out the window that had kept him up, and quietly appreciated the calm of the sun rays warming his face. As he ate his breakfast, an owl tapped its beak against the glass, holding within it claws a stark white piece of parchment with the emerald Malfoy seal on it. Opening the window to let in fresh air with the hint of last night's storm, the stunning black owl flew in and landed on his arm - dutifully sticking out its leg. Handing the owl half a piece of toast in thanks and shoving the other half in his own mouth, Draco let it settle on the table by a glass of water to relax after its journey, and out of the corner of his eye saw the little beak dive into the glass immediately. Running his knife through the envelope, the Malfoy heir pulled out the letter adorned with the elegant script of his mother, neatly marked in black ink, wishing him luck and reminding him to be a strong and proud leader, a positive representation of the Malfoy name at Hogwarts.

Frowning at the ever-growing burden he felt weighing down on his shoulders, Draco crumpled the letter and tossed it into the fire crackling by the end of the room. "Thanks for the reminder" he muttered to himself, glancing frustratedly at the Head Boy badge gleaming absurdly on his robes. Padding over to his washroom, Draco turned the silver handle to find a cool, light grey stone room, calming and simple, with an already open window letting in the fresh breeze. A large stone bath sat on the floor, almost miniature pool size, with a large showe head on the side of the wall. Running his hands along the rough topography of stone, he admired the natural shades of grey, white, and black that striated alongside his sink. Looking up at the mirror hung above it, Draco's reflection stared back at him - cut jaw line set in a determined look, fair skin that made his sharp, silver eyes pierce through, and unkept, tousled blonde hair - a state of collected disarray, a recurring theme in his life he could always resonate with. Splashing cool water on his face and brushing a wet comb through his hair, he noticed in the back of the room a nondescript door, which upon his failed initial attempt at unlocking, he gave up on. Pushing another one of Hogwarts' unsurprising random entrances to the back of his mind, Draco pulled on his trousers, buttoned up his shirt, fixed the collar to his liking, and laced up his shoes. Finally, he threw on the wretched robes emblazoned with his newfound position once more nowhere near in the back of the crowd where he preferred to be.

Snatching the schedule scrolled up on top of his desk, he unfurled the parchment to find where he had to begin his day - and all the food sank in his stomach when he read his presence was required with the head of Gryffindor house to discuss Head Boy duties and meet his partner. Draco, brighter than most gave him credit for, had no mistaken stipulations as to which beaver-toothed, hurricane of a human was going to be chosen as Head Girl, and with every step toward McGonagall's office, felt deepening dread for what was already showing to be a terrible year. Knocking politely on her door he was welcomed in with a curt nod, and the professor directed her sharp gaze across the top of her glasses, gesturing for him to sit across her. Sinking into the wooden seat, Draco felt the familiar subdued thudding of an oncoming headache, and taking a deep breath, met her eyes.

"Mr. Malfoy, as I'm sure you're aware, Head Boy duties are not just a representation of House, but rather of excellence in academia, spirit, and leadership within our school, and for that I must offer you my congratulations." Seeing the young man politely nod in return, she softened her tone and continued. "You have been chosen for this role because of who you are, and whom you've proven yourself to be these past six years - I can assure you, your family and their name had no bearing on our decision." Here, the elderly professor paused, to make sure she saw her words sink in. She watched the man before her, burdened with influences beyond his control, take another deep breath and appreciatively murmur "Thank you, Professor". Offering him a slight smile, she carried on - "And while I can credit you enough to assume you are already aware of which young woman you will be working with, I do feel the need to ask that the both of you put your childish rivalries behind you - and work hard together to lead the school in the powerful manner in which I know you both can - should you choose to work with, and not against, one another."

Both heads turned as they heard a soft "-Oh!" outside the door, as if one had almost run straight through it. A few seconds later, the person outside knocked, and Professor McGonagall gave Draco a pointed look before allowing the person in. Draco braced himself, he had known the second he received his badge in the mail at the beginning of the summer who he would be forced to partner with. But no matter how much he fretted about it, no matter how many times he turned in his bed as sleep evaded him, nothing prepared him well enough to truly see her walk through the door; real, and bright eyed, and, Draco noted, obviously shocked. Turning her head to the professor as if seeking reassurance that this wasn't some kind of cruel joke being played on her, the bespeckled witch gestured for Hermione to join across her. Draco watched as for the first time in his life she silently walked towards him, and sat beside him in a chair uncomfortably close, her straight-backed shoulder brushing up against his robes.

Her cheeks and nose dusted with freckles he noticed. Her usually wild hair was bound in a careful plait, and he watched her absentmindedly touch the gold necklace resting on her neck. As she rushed past him, he was hit with a faint waft of vanilla, and for some reason that made his stomach clench and his face flush. Willing to any and all deities for this meeting to suddenly be over, he resignedly turned back to the professor.

Catching the desperate looking students' gaze, the professor offered a smile.

"Shall we begin?"