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8 months before hand…

“Hermione, dear, are you sure you don’t need something extra? It’s your last year and I want it to be the best for you,” said Jane Granger, smiling lovingly at her only daughter.

“We are so proud of you,” added Stephan Granger, ruffling her hair playfully.

“Stephan, please, she is not eight. Her hair must be perfect.” Jane Granger hugged Hermione again and held her close. “We love you, darling.”

“I love you too,” said Hermione, smiling widely into her mothers shoulder. These were the moments that made Hermione realize how much she truly loved her family life. Teenagers constantly complained about their parents and had petty fights with them, and of course Hermione’s life wasn’t perfect…but it was pretty close. “I don’t need anything else. I have my allowance that is sent monthly, nothing else is needed.” Hermione’s mother nodded, kissing her on the cheek.

“Good luck on your last year darling. Remember what I told you- studying is well and good, but sometimes the real memories are made outside of the school work.” Jane Granger constantly told Hermione how proud she was of how hard she studied, but that Hermione needed to take more chances, make some mistakes.

“Oh and Hermione,” Stephan Granger said, stepping towards his daughter with a serious expression. Closing her eyes Hermione knew what was coming. “Just remember, love, don’t have sex because you will get pregnant. No sex in pools, wait does your school have pools? Anyways, no sex in pools, closets, the traditional bed, standing up, sitting down, showers,” he paused, taking a breath. “Just don’t do it, ok, promise me?”

“Yes, right,” answered Hermione, as she did every year in the past. With one last hug and kiss she turned and headed into Platform 9 ¾, pushing her filled cart in front of her. It was her last year at Hogwarts…and she couldn’t wait for it to begin.




By the train

“Mom, mom,” whined Ronald Weasley, shaking his head slightly. Molly Weasley was hugging her now grown son, pressing his head to her chest. Tears filled her eyes at the proud sight before her. Her youngest son was a 7th year and would graduate, what more could a mother want? “Mother, please, Harry is watching and Hermoine will be along any moment.”

“Right,” she said, letting go and wiping her eyes. “You must look like a man, because that is what you are! My little boy!” This realization sent her into another fit of tears, which ended with Ron in the position he was in moments before.

Harry watched on in amusement as Ron rolled his eyes in his direction and mouthed ‘moms’. Suddenly hands were covering Harry’s eyes, making him jump a foot in the air and turn around to face a Miss. Hermione Granger. Harry’s smile grew as he took her in; with her being on vacation with her parents all summer both Ron and Harry hadn’t seen her at all. She certainly had changed, but underneath the newly developed curves in all the right places, non-frizzy spirally hair, and chocolate brown eyes still laid his best friend of 6 years. “Hermione,” Harry said, pulling her into a tight hug. “I missed you!”

“I missed you as well. Where is Ron? Ginny? How was your summer? You must tell me everything on the train ride, promise?” Hermione knew she was rambling, but it didn’t matter he was going home, with the best friends in the world, and he felt nothing but happiness.

“Yes, I promise as long as you tell me everything about America!” Harry pushed his glasses back up his nose, and ruffled up his hair.

Before Hermione could answer Ron appeared beside Harry smiling widely at Hermione. “Yes, I heard America has bloody wonderful food.” Hermione rolled her eyes, only Ron could think of food at a time like this, but it didn’t matter Hermione was too happy to mind. Instead of making some comment about his constant obsession with food Hermione just smiled and hugged Ron tightly. “I missed you too, ’Mione.”

“Well,” came a drawling voice from behind them. “If it isn’t Mudblood and the Blood-Traitor. I see he finally made a move, well about bloody time…you two pieces of filth deserve one another.”

Hermione could see Ron’s fists balled tightly together, but grabbed his hand gently, making them unwind. Harry stood rigid beside them, looking coldly at Draco Malfoy. “Hello, Ferret, I see your insults haven’t matured over the summer.” Then directing her attention to Ron and Harry, who looked at her stunned. “Don’t worry, you guys, Malfoy is only bitter because to be happy one needs to be comfortable in their own shoes and obviously he isn’t.”

“I’m right here, Mudblood,” hissed Draco Malfoy, glaring dangerously at her.

Yet, Hermione continues at though he hadn’t said a thing. “You see, for someone to be happy they have to know what they want, and not follow what,” she looked directly into Malfoy’s eyes, “what someone else wants for them. So, you see, if you looked at logically, Malfoy is simply insecure and can’t make decisions for himself.” Hermione nodded her head as though she had just come up with a medicine for some deadly disease and walked away, leaving a flabbergasted Harry and Ron and a fuming Draco Malfoy.




On the train

“Hermione, you’re my hero, I honestly can’t tell you the last time I saw Draco Malfoy so angry,” said Harry, eating a chocolate frog.

“His mouth was hanging open like a goldfish,” added Ginny, clapping her hands in delight. “ ‘Mione, where did that come from? I mean, in a way, you weren’t even mean you were just telling him the truth.” Hermione smiled at Ginny and went to open her mouth, but the door to their compartment opened with a smiling Ronald Weasley.

“It’s my savior,” he said, kneeling before Hermione, taking her hand. “You are truly an inspiration, my dear.” His voice dipped with dramatics and made Hermione laugh as she stood and pulled up Ron with her. “Hermione, my love, I could simply kiss you at the moment,” he said. A moment after Ron had been so blunt his faced turned the color of a ripe apple and immediately took a seat, leaving an embarrassed and slightly confused Hermione standing up.

“Well,” she said, fumbling with the cuffs of her shirt. “I should be getting to the Head compartment. I can’t be late for the prefect meeting; I am Head Girl after all. Ronald, Ginny, please don’t be late.” With that Hermione walked out of the small compartment and trudged to the Head compartment dreading what she knew would be coming. There was no other person…if not Harry nor that smart Ravenclaw boy then it had to be…she opened the door. “Malfoy.”

Draco Malfoy looked up from his book with a deep frown. “I should of known they would of picked you,” then added, “they just needed to look charitable I suppose.” He turned back to his book with a smirk, leaving Hermoine fuming at the door, but not giving him the advantage of her responding to something so low.

“Let’s just try to be civil, shall we? The prefect meeting will start in thirty minutes and from the notes we got we need to explain their responsibilities, and the newly added information about the…”

“Winter Ball, yes Mudblood, I can read and have read that letter. Now can I have some quiet, I would like to finish this book before we stop and am nearly done.” Draco Malfoy’s eyes settled on the words in his book, but also took notice to Granger’s tighter grip on her bag. Getting a stir from this girl was always enjoyable; he could only imagine what it would be like to actually make her cry. Never had he made her cry, but this year…this year that will change.

“What are you smirking about, Ferret,” snapped Hermione, taking out a rather large book from her bag.

“Nothing, Mudblood, nothing at all.”


Next morning
First day of classes



“Harry, Ron,” yelled Hermione excitedly, running down the aisle and falling into her seat between them. “Please tell me you have Potions first.” Her eyes drifted between them both and noticed that neither made a sound, and slowly her head drifted to the table. “That is completely not fair. There is no way enough people passed to make it into their last year of Potions. What are there two bloody classes, and you two are in the other?” This wasn’t what Hermione had expected, not having one or two classes with them was normal, but having none was just plain strange.

“Sorry, ‘Mione, Harry and me have Potions tomorrow morning.” Looking over their schedules he soon realized what Hermione had noticed moments before. “Bloody Hell, Hermoine, I have no classes with you at all.”

“I know,” she responded miserably. “Well, I better be getting to Potions can’t be late especially if you two aren’t in the class with me.” Hermione stood up slowly and started to walk away when Ron called to her.

“ ‘Ey, Hermione, later on would you mind-d-d if I talk-ked to yo-o-u?” His voice stuttered with each word, which only added to the chrisom color of his face. Harry shook his head and looked at Ginny, who had her head buried in her hands groaning loudly. Her brother was such an idiot.

“Sure, Ronald, I’ll see you later in the common room,” and with that Hermoine was gone, leaving a sweaty and cheery Ronald Weasley. “Well,” he said, taking a bite of food, “that went rather well.”

“Yeah, mate, you’re a pro,” Harry answered laughing silently, “A real gigolo.”



Potions

“Welcome to 7th year Potions and I am Professor Snape as most of you should know,” said Snape, walking quickly across the room and waving his hand at the board. “On the board is the ingredients you will need and on page 805 is the potion. You will be put into partners…list is in the back. This potion will take at least two days and will include outside work, now get to work.”

Hermione sat shocked in her desk. Snape had actually been civil, what was the world coming too? Shaking her head she stood and walked towards the back of the room; waiting for everyone else to be finished with the list. Yet, before her eyes even graced the paper her shoulder was poked roughly. “Ow.”

“You’re with me, Mudblood,” drawled Draco Malfoy. “I think Snape is trying to be funny…he put Pansy with Dean Thomas…poor Pansy.”

Hermione huffed. “Poor Pansy? You must be joking?” Thinking that maybe what Malfoy told her was a lie she ran her finger down the list to her name and moved it across… “Malfoy, Draco”. Wonderful, just wonderful. “I guess we should start then.”

Malfoy smirked and walked back to his original seat, followed closely by an angry Gryffindor. “Must you be such a arrogant pompous ferret all the time, Malfoy?”

“Only with you, darling, only with you,” he said monotone, opening his book to the page number. “Now, Mudblood, if you don’t mind I expect an O and I don’t want you holding me back.”

“Oh, bring it on, ferret boy,” Hermione answered, opening her book as well and taking side-glances at Malfoy. His bangs were hanging in his eyes, but he didn’t seem to mind his eyes were only connected to the page in front of him. Draco Malfoy had changed over the summer, almost as though he had grown up in a mere 3 months. Looking back at him one more time Hermione realized he had a small scar on the top of his forehead that was almost unnoticeable because of his hair.

“Granger, I understand that I am sexy, but do you mind starring at me so bluntly. You’re making me blush,” he said, without looking up from his book. Even though she couldn’t see his full facial expression she would just see the smirk that covered his face.

Hermione smirked right back at him as she stood to go gather the ingredients. “You know what, Malfoy, arrogance is a habit that is only developed by acting as if you already have the confidence you so direly desire to have.” Leaving on that note she marched to the back of the room with a genuine smile.

Hermione Granger 1- Draco Malfoy 0





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