Flashback:

"You... you called me Hermione."

"You think I'm gorgeous?"

"Good morning students, come in, sit down and have a biscuit."

The two students hesitantly sat down. The Headmistress offered them biscuits. They promptly refused. "Oh, but I insist."

After they had eaten the biscuits, McGonagall spoke up. "You may be wondering why you're here—"

"I didn't do anything, Professor! If I did she provoked me! I didn't—" Draco babbled.

"What are you talking about, Mr. Malfoy?" the bespectacled professor asked.

Draco stared at the Headmistress, then to Hermione and back to the Headmistress. "What were we talking about, then?" he asked, scratching the back of his head. As Hermione slapped her forehead with her palm, Draco glared at her.

McGonagall smiled half-heartedly at them. "You are here because…" she trailed off, adding the suspense.

"Because…?" the two said together.

"Because you are the Heads. Congratulations," she said seriously.

"N-no," Hermione stammered. "That must be a mistake. I'm not going to work with the vain, blonde Slytherin douchebag!"

"Douchebag?" Draco said, appalled. "I am not a vain douchebag! Whatever that means," he added under his breath. "And what made you think I'm going to work with you, you insufferable know-it-all with a bird's nest for hair!" It was a lie, Draco knew it. Hermione's hair had tamed a great deal after the war. She looked pretty, even as she was about to slap him. Her palm nearly had contact with Draco's left cheek, when McGonagall, in a stern voice, said, "Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy, stop acting like a bunch of children. You two are the Heads. Act like them, or I'll give the position to someone more… cooperative."

Hermione sat down, blushing in embarrassment and anger, while Draco was supporting his trademark smirk.

"This means that you will be heading the Prefect's meetings, organize the incoming Winter Ball, be a role model to all the students and share living quarters," she said slowly, meaning every word. As the two students opened their mouth to protest, she held her hand up. "I expect you to behave civilly, no more calling names like Mudblood or – how did you call him earlier…? Oh yes, Ferret.

"You will have the power to give and/or take points from Houses. You can give detentions, with a reason, that is if they haven't obeyed the school rules. I will show you your quarters, after that, you will discuss the Winter Ball. Follow me."

Hermione spoke up. "Professor, how about our classes?"

McGonagall smiled. "Ah, always the studious one, Ms. Granger. You and Mr. Malfoy here will have to miss them, but being the best of your year, I expect you to cope up easily."

!i!

Weaslette, Blaise scribbled down in a deep blue—so blue it was almost violet—notebook, while he was slacking off in his room.

Ginny saw her notebook change from amber-red to a deep shade of blue. What is it now, Vain Italian? she wrote.

Blaise chuckled as he saw the name Ginny had given to her. What d'you reckon Minnie's doing to the two?

Ginny contemplated what Blaise had scribbled down. Minnie. Oh, right. McGonagall. Made them snog all senses out of each other, maybe?

You know Minnie won't allow that. But he liked the thought.

Why'd you ask me, then? Blaise could almost imagine her saying this with an impatient tone.

I thought maybe you'd know, Red, 'cause you're best mates with the girl. Guess I was wrong 'cause you're too busy sucking face with the Boy Who Lived.

Ginny stared at the words forming in her notebook. Do I see jealousy there, Mama's Boy? she wrote furiously.

Blaise chuckled bitterly. No, Weaslette. Disgusted is more like it. I'm not a Mama's Boy, carrot top.

You're a stalker, then. How else would you know I was 'sucking face' with Harry? She wanted to irritate him enough.

No, dear Weaslette, I'm not a stalker, he smirked. Everyone in my House was looking at your direction. Anyway, you're really… public, aren't you?

"What does he mean by public?" she murmured to herself. Public? How come?

Blaise smiled mischievously. You know… making out in the Great Hall at breakfast isn't exactly private, youngest Weasley. Even Snape was looking.

Ginny slammed the notebook shut, aggravated. How dare he?

No response.

Weaslette?

Still nothing.

Red? Carrot Top?

Toujours rien*. He sighed. He never imagined to say or write this.

Ginny?

!i!

"Can't believe I'm cutting class for this," Colin Creevey mumbled. "But this is all for Cho, just for her." He had just finished charming the photos. He made sure it was perfect. He pinned the two pictures on the bulletin board and left.

He hoped his House wouldn't kill him.

"Just one more problem," he muttered. "Michael Corner."

A/N

Me: YEY! Cookie to iheartDracoandRon for guessing it right. Yes, Colin Creevey took that photo, with a different camera. Something that doesn't blind the people he takes pictures of, or makes a super loud noise. I just had to put a bit Blaise/Ginny in this chapter. Oh, Cho and Michael Corner are dating here.

Blaise: NESSIE!

Daphne: Honey. What is going on with you and the young Weasley?

Blaise: Nothing, I swear. Nothing what so ever is going on between me and Weaslette.

Daphne: I don't believe you.

Blaise: OK, what's my punishment?

Daphne: No kissing, touching or any sexual activity for a week.

Blaise: *groans* This sucks.

Dumbledore: Did anyone of you see Snuggles?

All: Snuggles?

Dumbledore: My stuffed toy, can't sleep without him.

Me: Review? Love you all! FOOD FIGHT!!

*still nothing

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