Chapter Four:

Hermione, much to her surprise, hadn't seen Malfoy in three days since her last encounter with him. She would tell Harry and Ron how grateful she was not to have the annoying blonde flowing snickers and sneers into her ears. But a part of her missed it. She didn't know why. Malfoy was awful. The things he said were dreadful most the time. But there was something different about this Draco Malfoy. Something different about his demeaner, the way he presented himself, the way confidence dripped off him like water.

But naturally, when Hermione did see Malfoy next – it was in the most compromising of positions, and it seemed she was the only one to care.

She stared for too long. Far too long. Stood at the entrance of what she had assumed was the empty classroom, she gripped her satchel tighter as her mouth fell open and her back pushed against the cold stone wall of the castle. Hermione had only been trying to deliver her extra credit homework to Professor Slughorn's office. She knew he wouldn't be there, but she had every intention of leaving it on his desk with a small pastry she had bought from a café in Hogsmeade that same morning. But all her plans changed as she stared at the filthy scene in front of her.

Grunts and grumbles are what she heard as she walked into the room. Perhaps if she was a Slytherin she would have known better – known just what those noises meant. But being the curious Gryffindor she was, she had continued to open the door to Professor Slughorn's office. Immediately, the pastry she held in her left hand for her professor fell to the ground, and with a small gasp, her back flew in shock against the wall as she stepped backwards.

There he was, Draco Malfoy, with his long-sleeved white button up shirt on... barely. It was completely undone, loosely hanging off his shoulder showcasing his strong broad stance and perfectly sculpted abdomen. She watched as he held what looked to be none other than Pansy Parkinson over Professor Slughorn's desk and fucked her with one of his slender hands wrapped up in her ponytail. Hermione's presence remained unbeknown to Pansy, her cheek pressed against the hard wood of the desk and eyes closed as moans fell from her lips.

However, Draco had clearly seen her, heard her gasp as she entered the room. Yet his thrusts and movement never faltered if anything he went faster. His blue eyes met her brown and a large smirk presented itself on his features. It was almost challenging. And for once, Hermione wasn't up for his challenge. She wanted to yelp, proclaim how absolutely forbidden this was. How he was breaking at least three school rules. How as head boy, he should be a role model. But nothing came out of her mouth, it remained in a perfect 'o' shape as she stared at the scene in front of her. But what she hated most, is the tingle she felt in-between her legs – the tingle of wanting, the tingle of desire... and for what? None other than Draco Malfoy. It was that thought that finally had her running out the room, the colour pink flushed across her cheeks, all the way to her nose. She was mortified.

Her cheeks were pink again at the memories of what happened only hours earlier, Hermione glanced over at Draco who sat three chairs away from her in Herbology. Theodore Knott the only person between them. It was as if he had felt her stare that their eyes met again. That very same smirk lay plastered on his smug face. She looked away; Hermione couldn't meet his eye. Not because she had caught Malfoy in the most compromising position, but because he had caught her completely gawking at the scene.

It was then that a small scrunched up ball of parchment landed on Hermione's desk. She looked over at the direction it came from. Draco sat there, and again their eyes met – he wiggled his eyebrows, as if to motion for her to look at the note he had clearly thrown. It read three words in perfect cursive ink.

Still staring Granger?

It was humiliating. A small gasp fell from her mouth, as she pocketed the note in hope no other student would see it. But suddenly, another note landed on her desk. She didn't need to meet Malfoy's eye to know it was him.

Don't worry, it's our little secret.

Hermione grit her teeth, her face at this point had a permanent rose colour to it. She ignored the blonde haired Slytherin, quickly scooping her books into her satchel, handing in the required task work and racing for the door.

She hated Draco Malfoy.

---

It was only three days later that she was called to Head Mistress McGonagall's office. She walked up the winding staircase every step feeling steeper than the last. She had no reason to be called to the Headmaster's office. Her thoughts flicked to all recent events, and she could not discern any reason for her to be pulled out of class.

When she finally reached the top of the winding staircase, her heart fluttered as she took in the scene in front of her. The door was open, and there in the middle of the room was the large mahogany wood desk that once belonged to Albus Dumbledore. McGonagall sat behind it in her large wooden chair, its engravings and markings showed its aged. In front of the large desk sat two smaller wooden chairs, one of them already taken. By whom? None other than Draco Malfoy. Hermione's heart sunk, had somebody reported the scene from three days ago? Had somebody seen her watching Malfoy and Pansy and told Professor McGonagall? Did somebody know that she let Malfoy get away with his bad behaviour and never reported it? Her mind spun with a million questions and theories in those brief seconds before McGonagall's voice pulled her from her destructive thoughts.

"Oh Miss Granger... please take a seat. I'm sorry to pull you from class dear," her voice was soft. A smile on her face as she motioned at the seat next to Draco. He didn't look at her as she quietly sat down, eyes wide like an owl.

"What can I do for you Professor?" Hermione's voice was weak, she briefly glanced at Malfoy, who had a blank almost emotionless expression on his features.

"Miss Pansy Parkinson has been Head Girl for just shy of a month now since the start of this school year, as I'm sure you are aware," McGonagall trailed off, watching as Hermione sat up straighter. "However, she recently informed me of some urgent family dealings which will foresee her transferring to Beaxbatons Academy of Magic for the remainder of her school year. Subsequently she will not be able to fulfill her role as Head Girl. I would like to officially offer you the position as her replacement." Hermione was shocked, but before she could say anything, Malfoy was opening his mouth to speak.

"I personally think it's a wonderful idea Professor... especially in the interest of, what are you calling it; inter-house unity?" He had an almost conceited look on his face, he spoke to McGonagall, but his eyes looked at nothing but the Gryffindor in the seat next to him. Hermione dare not return his stare.

"I'm surprised you are so accommodating to this request Mr Malfoy." McGonagall spoke up from behind the desk, her eyes fluttering towards the younger witch, as if asking for her opinion.

"With all due respect Professor... I have wanted the position for years. But I really don't think myself working with Malfoy would.... Well... Work?" Hermione stuttered, she couldn't imagine a worst way to spend her final year at Hogwarts, forced to see Draco Malfoy more she was already cursed with.

"I would think you of all witches Miss Granger would be able to put aside your differences and employ a level of professionalism for this role?"

Her cheeks were once again bright red. Of course, she could. But did that mean she wanted to? Absolutely not! She was sure that if she was forced to work with Malfoy, she would end up hexing the Slytherin just as Ron had tried to once. Except this time, she would ensure the spell didn't rebound and that Malfoy was the one vomiting slugs for hours.

She didn't think that sounded like the type of behaviour Hogwarts would expect from a Head Girl... yet there Malfoy was in a teacher's office three days prior, shagging Pansy Parkinson. That wasn't the behaviour expected of a Head Boy either.

"No Professor of course I can. It would be my honour to accept your offer," Hermione didn't know what she was saying as the words fell from her mouth. She couldn't say no. Simply because she was Hermione Granger, and she would never give Malfoy the pleasure of knowing just how much he got under her skin. She would never give him the pleasure of thinking she would turn down an opportunity so apt just to avoid him.

"Oh! Wonderful Miss Granger! I will have an elf move your belongings into the Head dormitories tomorrow morning during your classes after Miss Parkinson departs. I do think you will do the most wonderful of jobs leading your peers this year, now off you both go back to class."

Hermione went to open her mouth to contest the words which fell from Head Mistress McGonagall's mouth. Because she had not even considered that she would be forced to move out of her Gryffindor home and into the private dormitory for student leaders. She would much rather her shared bunk beds then living anywhere near Draco Malfoy, even if it meant a little luxury of a solitary living space. But her plans to challenge the ruling were quickly lost as their teacher apparted, leaving them both completely alone.

"Well Granger, care for me to walk you to our dormitory, how 'bout a special private tour?"

Hermione scoffed at Malfoy's sarcastic haughty tone. Standing up, books in hand, she scoffed, strutting out the door without another word.

She heard his laughter as she slammed the door behind herself with the flick of her wand.

She would most certainly not let Draco Malfoy walk her to the dormitory.