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Author's Fore-word: This is the first HP story I ever wrote. It's not even close to anything that could be conisidered HBP-compliant, and Voldemort is conviently absent... It's close to complete and has twenty-two chapters so far, so you can expect quick updates. I primarily ship SS/HG these days, but I still have a soft spot for DM/HG. This story was written when those two consumed my life, so you can expect to feel the love. My writing has come a long way since this was originally posted on FF.net. It's still up over there but is in abysmal shape. The version you find here has been revised, rewritten, and added to. I hope you enjoy it!

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Chapter 1
Not Enough Room

Hermione had been ecstatic when her letter from Hogwarts had come, informing her that she would be Head Girl. She had spent the last month of the summer happily wondering who would be made Head Boy. She’d rolled over the possibilities in her mind, considering Tony Goldstein, Harry Potter, and even Ron Weasley, before finally deciding that Ernie Macmillan had the best chance.

And now, here she was. She stood on the platform in front of the Hogwarts Express and took a deep breath. This was it. She’d been told to meet the new Head Boy and the Deputy Headmistress in the last room of the train – a room informally dubbed the Head Compartment – where she would receive instructions about her duties. After that, she was supposed to check in at the Prefects’ Compartment, but that was at the back of her mind. At the moment, she was focused on who the other Head would be, fairly certain she had guessed right. Who else would it be?

She strolled to the Head Compartment of the train, expecting to open the door and find Ernie grinning at her, ready to congratulate her on getting the Head Girl position. Instead, she opened the door to find none other than Draco Malfoy, pompous git and snob extraordinaire, sneering at her. She instantly froze and glared back at him, wondering briefly if she was in the wrong compartment. She looked around covertly… No, this was definitely it – the sign on the door that said ‘Head Boy and Girl’ was a dead giveaway.

“What are you doing here, Malfoy?” Hermione snarled. She slid the door closed behind her forcefully. The thought that he might be the other Head didn’t even cross her mind. She was too busy glaring at him, wishing him nothing but ill.

The feeling was mutual. Malfoy leaned back comfortably in his chair and continued to sneer at her. He stretched his legs out and rested his feet on the soft bench across from him.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed angrily as his feet usurped her seat.

“Move your feet, and tell me what the hell you’re doing in the Head Compartment, Malfoy.”

“Language, Granger,” Malfoy taunted. “I don’t believe I will move my feet. I’m quite comfortable where I am, even withstanding your foul Mudblood stench assaulting my nostrils.”

Hermione’s eyes flared as her jaw tightened. She pushed his feet aside roughly and sat down across from him. The Draco Malfoy she’d known for six years surfaced in full, malicious strength, as she had known he would.

“Get your filthy hands off me, Mudblood!” he spat, his body stiffening.

Hermione had never been afraid of him; she’d never let herself be intimidated by him, and she wasn’t about to start now. She glared evenly at him and ignored his last insult.

“Are you going to tell me what you are doing here, or am I going to have to hex you?” she asked coldly.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he growled.

“Try me!” she escalated loudly.

“Well, children,” a voice said from bedside them.

Both students froze. Neither had noticed Professor McGonagall enter the room.

She heaved a frustrated sigh and closed the door behind her. She didn’t know what Albus was thinking, sticking these two together… Ah, well. Best to give it a try, she supposed.

“Please tell me that Professor Dumbledore hasn’t made the wrong decision in choosing the two of you as Heads. I’d hate to think of reassigning the positions because you two couldn’t control your tempers.”

Hermione looked at her, her cheeks slightly red, chagrined by the disappointed tone of her professor’s voice. It took her a moment before the woman’s words actually registered. When they did… Heads? As in plural?

Realization dawning, she turned her wide-eyed stare toward Draco, who was smirking. She felt her jaw drop in what had to be an unflattering manner, but the way she looked just then was the last thing on her mind.

“He’s Head Boy?” she hissed in disbelief.

“That’s right, Granger,” Draco said smoothly, icy as ever. “Took you long enough.”

“But, Professor–” Hermione began, trying to think of something to say to Professor McGonagall that would convey the sheer horror she felt.

“Miss Granger,” said her teacher in firm tone, “Mr. Malfoy has been given the position of Head Boy, just as you have been given the position of Head Girl. You have both earned it. Please display the maturity that the Headmaster trusts you to possess.”

Malfoy smirked unkindly at this, and McGonagall turned sharply to him. “The same goes for you, Mr. Malfoy. You have both been given the assignment fairly. We are trusting you to put your differences aside long enough to do your duties this year. Professor Dumbledore has faith that you will succeed at this, making this a wonderful and worthwhile year for yourselves and your fellow students.”

McGonagall’s skeptical tone left no question that she wasn’t so sure about this.

Hermione resisted the urge to tell McGonagall that she was insane, the qualities that had earned her Head Girl pulling rank on her anger. With great effort she stuffed down her pride and smiled. “I’ll do my best, Professor.”

“I’m sure you will, Miss Granger,” McGonagall answered succinctly. She handed them both a small packet of papers and spoke again. “I’ve just given you your patrolling schedules, list of duties, rules you will adhere to, and the names of this year’s Prefects. I had hoped you both would stop by the Prefects’ Compartment before you return to your friends, but… I think that time would be better spent talking to one another. You will agree on a time to meet with the Prefects to assign them their duties. Everything you will need is in your hands. I suggest you study it.”

Hermione looked down and thumbed through the papers in her hands, eager to read through them, and then looked back at her teacher.

“Again,” continued McGonagall, “I am registering my deepest hope that the two of you will be able to put your childish differences behind you and work as a team.”

Hermione smiled up at McGonagall. She returned it and left them alone. Hermione, of course, wasted no time in opening the packet she’d been given, eager to get started. She almost forgot someone was still sharing her compartment until she heard Malfoy’s voice again, jolting her up from her reading.

“Brownnoser,” he sneered.

Hermione sighed in exasperation. “Were you even listening, Malfoy? I don’t like this any better than you do, but if we’re going to spend the year in close proximity to each other, maybe we should listen to her.”

At this Malfoy scoffed. “No fucking way, Granger. We may be stuck in this, but there is no chance you will ever be anything but a brownnosing Mudblood to me.”

This pushed Hermione over the edge. Here she was, trying to make a go of it, and Malfoy was only interested in mudslinging. Well, two could play at this game… Noble thoughts of teamwork and being the bigger person were forgotten as she narrowed her eyes.

“You make me sick, Malfoy,” fumed Hermione. “You are arrogant, snobby, bigoted and… and… ugly! You stay away from me. Don’t look at me, talk to me, or touch me unless it’s necessary for our duties.”

“Like I’d ever want to make myself filthy by touching you,” Malfoy said sarcastically. “You, on the other hand, I’m sure, will have a hard time keeping your hands off me.” With this, he gave a wickedly suggestive smirk that made Hermione’s blood boil. “You know,” he continued, “this means we’ll be sharing a dormitory. You’ll lie awake at night wishing I would come to you and do… things to your body, and I’ll lie awake wishing you were any other girl in the school so that I’d want to. It hardly seems fair, does it?”

Hermione snorted in disgust as Malfoy tilted his head confidently. “In your dreams, Malfoy,” she said defiantly, grinding her teeth. As if she’d ever be even slightly attracted to that… that ferret!

“On the contrary, Granger, in your dreams.”

Malfoy stood up quickly and after giving Hermione a final arrogant sneer – one for the road – walked out of the compartment, no doubt headed to join his pack of piggish Slytherin friends, leaving her livid in her seat.

She left shortly thereafter to join her own friends. When she reached their compartment, Ron – who was apparently already finished with the other Prefects – Harry, Ginny, Luna, and Neville greeted her, all wanting to know who her counterpart was.

“You are not going to believe this,” Hermione said darkly, plopping down next to Luna and Neville.

“Who is it, Hermione?” asked Harry.

“Yeah, tell us!” echoed Ginny.

“Is it Ernie?” asked Neville eagerly.

Hermione looked around for a moment before dropping the bomb. “It’s Malfoy.”

There was a horrified silence until Ron broke it. “What?” he gasped.

“You heard me, Ron,” muttered Hermione irritably. “Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.”

“Fuck!”

“Ron!” shouted three upset female voices simultaneously.

“What?” he asked with an exasperated shrug. “Don’t even try to tell me I’m the only one who has a problem with that bastard as the Head Boy!”

“No, you’re not, but he’s not worth it, Ron. Don’t lower yourself to his level,” chided Ginny.

Hermione and Luna nodded their concurrence.

Ron rolled his eyes at them. Honestly, it was only a word…

“He’s going to make our life a living hell,” groaned Neville.

“No, he won’t,” said Hermione firmly. “I’m still Head Girl. I have the same power he has.”

“Yeah,” said Harry, “but you’re not an obnoxious arse. And you’re going to be hard put to keep up with the points he docks from us all.”

Ron and Neville nodded in agreement.

Hermione chuckled darkly. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on him. A very close eye on him. I’m not about to let him ruin this year for any of us.”

This topic of conversation went on until everyone grew tired of abusing Malfoy. Granted, this took rather a long while, but by the time they were done discussing it and everything else they could think of and Hermione had read through her Head packet several times, it was dark outside and time for everyone to change into their school robes.

When the students finally reached the castle, there was an excitement buzzing that was typical of the first night back. Everyone arrived at the feast starving and eager. The Sorting went by quickly, and before long, the feast was over and everyone was filing off toward his or her dormitory, peacefully stuffed with food.

Hermione had already received instructions on where to go to find her new quarters. She found her new rooms easily and gave the password to enter. Cooperation.

Nice try, Dumbledore.

The Head Suites were impressive. Hermione thought it just might be worth suffering the annoyance of sharing them with Malfoy if it meant she could spend her evenings here. This place had everything but a kitchen. A medium-sized study/lounge made up the common room. On the opposite wall from where Hermione stood surveying, there were two beautiful, mahogany desks set a few feet apart. A large couch, two comfortable looking armchairs, two partially filled bookshelves – which Hermione would have overflowing in no time – and a circular, glass-top table with two posh-looking wooden chairs on opposite sides furnished the room wonderfully. It was obvious that whoever had designed this room wanted its two occupants to be comfortable and to spend a lot of time together in it. Hermione snorted. Fat chance of that.

There were three plain wooden doors on the right wall. The first, she surmised from the placard with her title, lead to Hermione’s new bedroom. The next door was partially open, and Hermione could see cream-colored marble – that had to be the loo. That meant the last door led to Malfoy’s room. She walked into her room and looked around. It was a lot bigger than her room in Gryffindor Tower. Actually, it wasn’t, she realized as she looked more closely; it just looked that way because it only had one large bed, as opposed to the three that had been in her previous dorm. That meant there was a lot more space. Hermione glanced out the window and saw the lake glittering darkly, reflecting the light of the castle. She knew it would be a lovely view in the daytime when she’d be able to see the grounds and the forest too. She looked around her new room again and smiled. It was a charming room, sparsely furnished but elegant and tasteful. It had definite potential. She was looking forward to decorating it the way she wanted.

She strolled back out to inspect the common room more closely, and at that moment Malfoy burst through the portrait hole imperiously. His sudden entrance startled her from her exploration, and she glowered at him.

Draco spared only a moment to glance around the room, to take it in, before he advanced on Hermione. You will stay out of my room and away from my things. “Is that clear?” he asked commandingly.

She narrowed her eyes, folded her arms, and spat, “The same goes for you, Malfoy.”

Malfoy chuckled meanly. “You have nothing I want.”

“Likewise!” she snapped.

“You just keep telling yourself that.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and began to walk to her room. There was no winning with him. She gave up. “You really do disgust me,” she said coldly.

“Get out of my way, Granger!” growled Malfoy.

She stumbled sideways as he pushed past her and walked into his bedroom. The door slammed loudly and Hermione just shook her head. She clenched her jaw and looked at the ceiling as though begging for its help.

The common room was a decent size, especially for two people, but Hermione knew it wasn’t going to be big enough – not nearly. Feeling completely done in every way, she crossed the room and flung herself down on the large, flower-printed sofa in the middle of the room. She let out a deep sigh and closed her eyes.

This was going to be hell.

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SB's Notes: Thanks go to the multi-talented Southern_Witch_69 for her wonderful beta reading skills and her help in teaching me. Thank you, Sun. I'd still be staring at the screen blankly, wondering what in God's name a compound predicate was if it wasn't for you. ;-)

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