Unidentified

CHAPTER ONE: The One with the Yankees shirt

Hermione walked into the London train station and took off her sunglasses, absorbing her surrounding. She had done this exact thing every year for the past six years, but for some reason this time things were different. Of course she knew that this could very well be the last time she'd set foot in the station, on her way to Hogwarts, where she was almost certain she was going to get into some kind of demon induced trouble. She turned around and looked at her parents who were now putting her luggage onto a trolley. Besides her school trunk, and her cat, Crookshanks, Hermione had a very large (and heavy) MAC make up bag, two suitcases and a bag containing pictures and mementoes of her friends at home.

Sighing, Hermione put her sunglasses in her purse and continued walking to platform nine. This was always the hardest part. One side of her desperately wanted to see Harry and Ron again- after being away from them all summer, and only being able to write sporadically, she missed her two best friends, but another side, her more selfish side, wanted to run home begging her parents to let her be normal, go to the Academy with all of her friends that didn't have to be burdened with the problems of a whole world that they themselves didn't know a thing about. She wanted to go shopping on the weekends, sit in class and learn calculus, see plays, drive around town when she's bored, wear her own clothes. Not worry about being blasted into the next century by a boy that had made it his soul purpose in life to make her life miserable. That would be when Hermione would seriously reconsider her decision about going back to Hogwarts. As soon as she thought of Draco Malfoy and the vicious torture he insisted on putting her through, she'd stop cold and weigh all her options. Do I really want to go to Hogwarts? I can see Ron and Harry anytime. All I'd have to do would be to write them a letter. I don't need to go through this. I don't need to be ridiculed by him of all people. But in the end, she would always cross the barrier between platforms nine and ten to the Hogwarts Express.

"Hermione, dear, are you okay?" she heard her mother ask, snapping her out of the internal battle she was having. Hermione looked at her mother, who was giving her a gentle smile. "You don't look too good, dear. Maybe once we get to the train we should tell someone that you need to lay down." One thing Hermione had learned about her mother was that she was always worried. About everything. Hermione had to call her every time she decided to go somewhere, arrived there, and was leaving. It was annoying as hell, but she had come to know it was just her mom's way of protecting her only child.

"I'm fine, mom," she said, flashing a smile. "I'm just sort of tired and anxious. You know I was up all night packing and making sure I had everything. I also wanted to double check to make sure I was up on my reading." This wasn't a total lie. She had been packing and reading, but that was only after she had tossed and turned until three in the morning and could no longer take it.

"Maybe it's what you're wearing," she said, pointing to Hermione's tight hip huggers and fitted Yankee's t-shirt. Hermione looked down at herself, expecting to see a huge stain on her shirt or to find that her jeans were too short. Hermione had thought she looked good. Her outfit exposed a few inches of her stomach (but she had worked hard for this stomach), but it wasn't like she was wearing a skirt that went up her ass and a tube top. She looked like a sensible teenager, but her mother would never see that. Skin was always taboo to her. Hermione was almost certain that her mother would prefer her daughter to wear a nineteenth century bathing suit if they were still made. "Do you think you should change?" she asked, scrunching her nose slightly at Hermione's blue ADIDAS Superstars.

"No, mom, I'm fine," Hermione snapped, frustrated that her mom was always picking on the clothes she was wearing. "I'll put my robes on as soon as I get on the train. But you're right. I'm tired and nervous, I'll ask if there's anyway I can be by myself to sleep for a while." She knew that this would make her mother happy- letting her know she was right.

"Your mother is only looking out for you, Hemi, you shouldn't be snippy," Hermione cringed at her father using the nickname her friends had made up for her. It sounded as though he was taking over a part of her life that she didn't want her parents to touch- the only part that they couldn't control. "I hope you can find your robes in all this," he continued, laughing at his own joke. Hermione rolled her eyes, walking faster as to not have to engage in any more pointless conversation.

Finally, she thought as she approached the walkway between platforms nine and ten. "Well, here we are," she said, reaching for the trolley her father was pushing for her. "I guess this is it. I'll write you as soon as I get there, let you know how the room is, who Head Boy is and all the good gossip." She knew her parents could care less about gossip, but she was filling the time, trying not to have to say good-bye.

"Good bye, dear. I'll miss you," her mother engulfed her in a hug, filling Hermione's senses with Chanel. "Be good. Send Ron and Harry our love." She stepped back, making room for Hermione's father to step up. He was already going to cry. Her father's crying always made Hermione nervous. She hated seeing men cry. It felt unnatural somehow. They were always supposed to be so strong, and somehow, his crying made Hermione feel as though her father was indeed very weak.

"Bye little Hemi," I bet he doesn't even know why they call me "Hemi," she thought, returning his hug. She stepped back and wheeled the trolley in front of the column in which she was to run through. Taking a deep breath, Hermione gave her parents one last smile and was gone.

Draco Malfoy looked around the station, hoping to see someone to talk to. He was rather tired of watching all the parents' tearful good byes, and was now ready to have conversation with someone that was not emotional. But that also left out Crabbe and Goyle, who he couldn't remember ever having a conversation before about something that didn't involve junk food. Draco rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated puff of air. He was bored. There was nothing else to do but go and sit on the train, but he couldn't do that just yet. He had been told to stay outside, making sure all the students knew where to go and what compartments were for which year. That's what you get for being Head Boy. Oh no, you couldn't be stupid could you? Had to be intelligent enough to know which way was up, he scolded himself. Suddenly he stopped, realizing that if he had to baby sit the students, shouldn't the Head Girl also have to do this tedious task as well? Draco knew that an obvious candidate for Head Girl had been Hermione Granger- her good girl image and sugary sweet persona had made her every Professors dream come true.

Draco looked around, and not noticing her dark hair anywhere, gave up and sat down on the ledge of the wall. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling it fall into his eyes. What the hell am I supposed to do? Sit here for two hours and then hurry all the first years onto the train? Yeah right, there has to be someone here to be entertained by. Just then Draco saw her walking towards him. Draco groaned and pushed himself off the ledge. The last person Draco wanted to see was Pansy Parkinson. She had made this huge spectacle over him at the end of sixth year, claiming that he was "cheating" on her. From what Draco knew, you can't cheat on a person you were never with, and he wasn't cheating on her. He wasn't "cheating" on anyone with anyone else. Pansy was just a bona fide Drama Queen. He crossed his arms over his chest, making it so that she wouldn't be able to hug him, or kiss him, or whatever it was that she was planning to do. As she got closer he noticed just how un attracted to her he was. His eyes roamed from her long pitch-black hair, to her dark, empty eyes, to her all too familiar Slytherin robes. Yeah, she had a nice body, but there was nothing behind it. No spark was there to ignite any of it. "Hey Pansy," he said, hoping he didn't sound too annoyed to see her. She was, after all, someone to talk to.

"Hi, Draco. How was your summer?" she took a piece of her hair and twirled it around her index finger.

"Good, as always. We went to America. I went to the Quidditch championships- as always. It was rather productive," Draco stopped talking and suddenly realized that the silence was very awkward. "And how was yours?" he asked, hoping to make her continue some sort of easy conversation without bringing up her mellow dramatic stunts from the year before.

"Oh it was just fantastic! I went to Australia. It was beautiful! The animals and the people are all just lovely! My mother bought me a whole new wardrobe! I can't wait for you to see it," Draco let his eyes wander while Pansy went on about her trip to Russia, or Japan...wherever it was. His eyes rested on a girl that had just arrived. Draco didn't recognize her, but she looked to be his age, maybe she's a transfer, he thought, looking her up and down trying to see if he remembered her. She had straight brown hair with blonde highlights that barely grazed her shoulders. She had on a tight t-shirt that said Yankees on it, which Draco had learned to be a Muggle baseball team in America, and very low jeans that made it possible for Draco to see a sliver of very tan skin. Without realizing it, Draco found himself to be gawking. He heard someone clear their throat, irritated. Draco snapped back from his thoughts and looked at Pansy, who must have realized he was no longer listening. "Umm...hey, Pansy, I have a few things to do. You know Head Boy and all, but tell me all about it at dinner, okay?" He noticed how her face immediately brightened.

"Okay, Draco," she stopped for a minute and followed his eyes to the girl he had been looking at, "Why are you staring at her?" her eyes giving a flash of jealousy.

"I can't remember who she is. Is she new?" Draco asked very innocently. It was true, he didn't know who she was, and if he did he couldn't remember. "For the life of me I can't put a name with her face."

Pansy looked at her a little more closely, and then turned back to Draco, an amused glint in her dark eyes, "Silly, that's Hermione Granger!" she started laughing, "I don't know who that is," she restated in a deep voice that she assumed resembled his own, "Oh Draco, you make me laugh." With that she walked away seeing a few girls that she knew and started talking.

Draco yet again looked at the girl, and this time caught her eye. He immediately knew it was her, the smile she was wearing only seconds prior was gone, replaced with a superior smirk. She raised one of her eyebrows, as if to ask him what he wanted. Draco jutted his chin in response and started to walk towards her. If she was Head Girl, he should let her in on the little "job" they we're having to do. When he got within earshot, he called, "Hey Granger, long time no see," putting on a smirk and watching her clench her jaw muscles, "I was wondering, since I have such killer instinct, and the administration here is pretty predictable, I would think that that would mean you're Head Girl." It wasn't a question, but a statement, making Hermione turn her whole body to face his as he stopped walking and stood in front of her. His eyes briefly flicked across her body, and smirked as he noticed her roll her eyes.

"Yes, Draco, you're right, I'm Head Girl, and I suppose, since the powers above are suddenly against me, that you're Head Boy?" She looked up at him and he could see the contempt in her eyes, Whatever, he thought, if she's going to be a bitch about it, she can guide the poor lost souls on her own.

"I just wanted to let you know, that for the past two hours I've been having to help all the first years, and anyone else clueless, get around. It's your turn." With that he turned and walked towards the train.

Hermione watched as Draco stormed off. That figures, she thought, the second Hermione gets here we'll shovel all the work on to her shoulders. She sighed and walked towards a young girl who seemed to be scared and lost. "Hello," she said in what she hoped was a comforting voice, "I'm Hermione, do you need some help?" the girl looked up at her and nodded her head, and Hermione could see tears rolling down her cheeks, "Oh! Don't cry. I'll help you. Do you want to know where to go?" The girl nodded again and Hermione held out her hand for the girl, she took it and Hermione led her to the first year cars, and then left, saying that if she ever needed help again, to not be afraid to ask her.

Eventually, after what seemed to be forever, the train was ready to leave. Hermione headed towards the car that she spotted Ron and Harry going in, but was cut on by Professor McGonagall. "Ms. Granger, I would like to have a word with you, quickly," she ushered Hermione into a nearby car where Draco Malfoy was already seated. Hermione, remembering their encounter earlier, rolled her eyes and sat as far from him as possible. "As you both now realize, you are the Head Boy and Girl. I hope to have a very smooth year, and for you both to show a great deal of leadership and integrity." She paused, looking from Hermione to Draco to make sure that her first point was clear, "Good. Now, with that said, there are a few things you ought to know. First, Headmaster Dumbledore will lead you to your private dormitory directly after the feast. Second, these are your schedules," she held up two pieces of paper, giving them each one, "you will notice that you have the same classes. This is so you can study together, make rounds at the same time, and maybe, dare I say it, become friends?" her last statement was stated as a question as she raised her eyebrows to them both. Yeah right. Like making us go to class together is really going to make up for him being a complete and utter waste of mass. "You may both go back to your friends. I will see you at the school."

With that Hermione practically ran from the car. She heard Ron's voice and walked towards an open car. She peered in, and sure enough, her two best friends were sitting there, talking about, of course- Quidditch. "Well, well, fancy meeting you here," she said, making Ron's head whip up. She saw a smile form on his face as he jumped up and hugged her.

"Hermione! We were wondering where you were! We suspected with McGonagall talking Head Girl business." Ron exclaimed, making room for Harry to give her a hug. He smiled as he sat back down, making room for Hermione.

"Ugh! You will not believe this! Draco Malfoy is Head Boy! Can you believe it?" Hermione knew that her experience was going to be ruined by his cliché comments and snide remarks. She noticed both Ron and Harry staring at her, and as she had in the train station with her mother, looked down at herself, expecting to see something. "What?"

"Hermione, why aren't you wearing your robes?" Harry asked, looking uncomfortable.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was in such a hurry to leave this morning, and my robes were already packed. I'm going to change before we get there." She assured them, not really wanting to leave her independence behind for the hot, unattractive uniforms for Hogwarts. "So! Tell me all about your summers." She listened intently on how Ron and Harry had went to Germany with Ron's family and all of the cool things they had seen and found herself feeling as though she were on the outside looking it. Hermione had spent her summer being a nrmal teenager. Going shopping, swimming, working on her tan, running with her best friend Kate every morning, going to New York to see the Yankees play, she was, yet again, wondering which world would win out in her head.

"Hermione?" she looked up to see Ron giving her a puzzling look, "Are you okay?" she was really starting to believe that maybe she wasn't, since every ten seconds someone was asking her that- except Draco, but she could be bleeding from the eyes, begging for help and he would flick his wrist, as in vanishing her existence.

"Of course I'm alright. Just nervous about being Head Girl," Hermione flashed the two boys a smile and excused herself to go change into her uniform. Okay, Hemi, you have got to calm down. You think way too much. You're Head Girl! You should be happy! She kept telling herself that, but deep down, she missed Kate, and the summer, and not having to worry about some fucked up monster eating her.

Draco looked around the dining hall and felt confident that it was going to be a great year for him. Why shouldn't it? He was Head Boy, in his seventh year, and knew that half the female population had a crush on him, and those that didn't hadn't seen him yet. Things were shaping out well. Except, of course, that he was going to have to live with Hermione Granger. The know-it-all, I'm-too-pretty-now-that-I-don't-have-bushy-hair Gryffindor that was going to put a damper on his party. Did you just use the word 'pretty' in association with Granger? His mind asked, making him think harder, it's a figure of speech. She's not "pretty" only "prettier". That makes no sense, man. Draco shook his head, making the confusing thought exit his mind, and turned back to Pansy, who was, yet again, talking about her trip to Alaska. She never shut up. You know, in her robes, if she didn't have really long hair, she could be a guy, he thought, stifling a laugh at his own joke. But it was true; the Hogwarts robes seemed to make people genderless. Which was highly shitfaced in his opinion. He looked over to Professor McGonagall, and wondered if she had ever had sex. Probably not, she asexual or something really great like that. Draco smirked, and took a drink of pumpkin juice.

After the excruciating dinner (Pansy had gotten out her pictures from her trip to New Zealand), Draco was more than ready to get to his new dorm. He slowly walked towards Dumbledore, and noticed Hermione doing the same, you'd think Little Miss Perfect would be front and center, but no, Hermione was taking just as much time as Draco. When they reached the Professors tables, Dumbledore looked at each of them and smiled, getting up and gesturing for them to follow him. Draco went in step behind Hermione, taking note as to how long her legs were. Draco snapped his head up, and instead rested his eyes on the back of her head. "Your dormitories are to be in the tower of the west wing corridor," Dumbledore explained, "we have spent the summer making them ready for you both, for as you know they have been out of use for quite some time." They walked towards the stairs and at the foot Dumbledore stopped and turned, "Do either of you have any questions before we proceed?" Draco and Hermione both shock their heads, and the Professor ushered them up the stairs to the tower. When they reached the door, they were met by a Princess, who asked for their password. "Pixie dust," Dumbledore said and the painting moved to reveal a blue and silver common room. Draco was in awe as he looked around the big room with its plush couches and glass fixtures. He looked at Hermione and noticed her doing the same. Of course she's in awe, she's a Mudblood, she doesn't know any better. Professor Dumbledore turned to acknowledge them both, saying, "This is your common room. Up those stairs to the right is Draco's room, up those stairs," he pointed to a separate set on the other side of the room, "lead to Hermione's room. You will find that your things have already been brought up. I will leave you to make yourselves at home." Draco barely heard him leave, and was walking towards the bookcase when he saw Hermione doing the same.

"Sorry, you go," she said, turning to walk to the other side of the room. Draco couldn't help noticing the sadness on her face. The whole day she hadn't seemed to be very happy. Maybe it's because her precious Harry Potter isn't Head Boy, he thought to himself, scowling in her direction. She was going to have to get over that. Her pouting was too irritating to take for much longer.

Hermione couldn't believe how gorgeous the room was. She had thought Gryffindor Tower was cozy, but this was beautiful. She couldn't help immediately noticing the bookcase on the far side of the room, and found it odd that Draco would spot that as well. I'd think he'd notice the full-length mirror first. He's due for an ego boost right about now. Hermione sighed and walked towards the stairs Professor Dumbledore had said would lead to her room. "Where are you going?" she turned and saw Draco sitting on the couch, reading. He hadn't even looked up from his page.

"My room. I want to get unpacked and I'm curious to see what it looks like," she started up the stairs but stopped and turned towards him. "Maybe you should do the same," she continued up the stairs and listened for any movement. Nothing. It would seem that way, coming from a Malfoy.

Once Hermione reached the top, she was somewhat afraid to walk in the room. She was afraid it would be the same red and gold of Griffendor, and was somewhat ready for a change. Stop pouting, Granger! You're in the most gorgeous tower, and all you can do is complain that things may stay the same. She took a deep breath and opened the door. This was nothing like her old room. She had what looked to be the most comfortable Queen sized bed with a white down comforter and deep blue mosquito net. She had a cherry armoire and vanity. There was also a matching nightstand and chest of drawers. Head Girl sure has its perks, she thought, walking to her luggage, which was sitting on the floor by her bed. Better get started unpacking, she picked up a suitcase and plopped it on the bed. God! Is there anything left in my bedroom? She opened it and the first thing she saw was a picture of her and Kate at the beach that summer. She put it on the nightstand, and started sorting through her clothes.

After awhile Hermione discovered that she had packed way too many clothes. The way she saw it, with the time the students were given to wear what they wanted, she had an outfit for everyday of the first three months. She laughed as she finished putting her clothes away, and picked up her make-up case and put it on the vanity. Kristy was right, this is nine thousand dollars worth of make-up. Hermione shook her head and picked up the bag that had all of her shampoos, blow dryer and other bathroom needs and walked towards the door on the far side of the room. She walked in and couldn't believe it. The bathroom was bigger than her bedroom at home. There was a huge Jacuzzi tub in the center, surrounded by wall mirrors and great lighting. The counters were a white marble and there were gorgeous silver fixtures. On the other side of the room was a shower with a glass sliding door. Wonder how long it'll take me to make this all look like shit? She thought, emptying her bag and putting things in their appropriate spots. Finally happy with her work, Hermione walked back into her room and changed into her pajamas, a pair of pink girl boxers and a white tank top. She trotted down the stairs, eager to tell someone- even if it was Draco-how awesome her room was. When she got to the common room, it was empty. Oh so now he decides to go see his room. Hermione plopped down in one of the big armchairs and waited.

Draco was more than pleased with his room. He had a King size bed, an antiquate chest of drawers, and one killer bathroom. Not that it mattered, but it was nice to know that he was finally being treated as he should have been all along. I wonder if Granger's dieing over the fact that she has her own room yet, he smirked as he finished putting his clothes away, leaving out his school uniform and putting it on top of his dresser. She's probably crying over being able to bathe in peace. Draco looked at his clock: midnight. He yawned and took of his robes, lazily through them over his desk chair. He put a white t-shirt on with his boxers and went downstairs.

When he got to the bottom of the steps he slowed his pace, he could see Hermione sitting in the armchair, staring off into space. He could see her long legs dangling over one side, and walked a little father to see that her hair was now in a messy bun on top of her head, with a few loose pieces down around her face. What a slob. He cleared his throat to announce her presence. She looked up, and looked very excited. "What?" he asked, scrunching his eyes together. An hour ago she had been Miss. Moppy, now she was looking at him as though her one true love had finally come home.

"My room is fantastic!" she exclaimed, throwing her body to sit straight in the chair. "I can't believe how they went all out for us. It's amazing." She had a far off look in her eyes that made Draco believe she wasn't even talking to him, just herself. She blinked and looked him in the eyes. "Is your room the same?"

"Yes. Although I wouldn't exactly call it 'fantastic' or 'amazing', but I'm glad I'm finally being treated correctly. But I would expect a Mudblood like yourself to get all worked up over your own room and bathroom," he visibly saw the happiness drain from her face. Serves her right acting like she was given some big treat.

"You know, Malfoy, you'd be a lot more tolerable if every word that came out of your mouth wasn't so unoriginal and full of disgust." Hermione jumped out of her chair and ran up the stairs to her room, slamming the door beside her.

That was pleasant- bitch. Draco wanted this to be a fun year, but if Granger was always going to be in his way, preaching her goodness, he was going to have to kill her.