Inevitable Lovers

Chapter 1:

'I, oh wow, I still can't believe this! Thanks Harry,' said Hermione. Over the summer of their sixth year, she had been appointed Head Girl, and was immensely excited. Lowering her voice, she said in Harry's ear, 'I still think you deserved Head Boy.'

They had lifted their trunks onto the Hogwarts Express by this time, and settled into a carriage, with Ron and Ginny bringing up the rear.

Harry laughed awkwardly. 'Wouldn't want the responsibility. But well done again.'

Hermione stood up, and looked out into the corridor before turning to the others, framed by the doorway. Ginny glanced up from the latest issue of Witch Weekly.

'Well, I have to go and sit with the Head Boy and prefects for a while, but I'll be back soon.'

Something caught her eye behind her, and she sighed. 'Don't look now, but here comes Malfoy. Keep your tempers, Harry, Ron.' She shot them a warning look, and disappeared up the aisle, briefly wondering why Malfoy wasn't flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

As Hermione walked away, she heard Malfoy approach their carriage and sneer, 'Potty. And the Weasel. Where's your Mudblood girlfriend today then?'

She scowled and walked faster towards the prefect's carriage, hitching her school bag over her shoulder. Ridiculous Malfoy...he's always interfering where he isn't wanted...

Upon entry, Hermione looked around at the new prefects, not recognising most of them as they were only fifth years, and sat down on an empty seat by the door. The dark grey clouds and pouring rain outside seemed to cast dull shadows on the interior of the carriage, giving a slightly ominous feel that was compounded by the serious faces of the prefects surrounding her. Then the door opened again, and to Hermione's horror, Malfoy appeared. What's Malfoy doing here...unless...he can't be Head Boy, surely...

Draco Malfoy leaned casually against the doorframe, blond hair sleek and shining, Head Boy badge contrasting clearly against the black of his school robes. Annoying Potty and the Weasel hadn't been that much fun so far, because she hadn't been there, ready to snap at him, offer a challenge, and scowl. He quite liked that scowl, which he supposed was convenient seeing as she seemed to wear it permanently around him, although he had to admit her face was often compulsive, fascinating at other times...when she was worried, or happy...never with him, of course. Then Draco's eyes fell on her, raking over her body. A flicker of admiration stole over him, and he cursed inwardly. He thought again of the end of their sixth year, when he had first looked at her, not for a genderless extension of Potter the Prat, but for what she really was. It was a strange feeling, once that seemed to go to his chest rather than the usual jolt to the groin. Just because she's so...unavailable, he thought absently, as he pulled away from the doorframe and swaggered over to the opposite seat, giving her a cold, aloof look...the only look she would ever expect from him.

'So, Mudblood,' he said levelly, 'I see you're Head Girl.'

'Believe me, I'm as surprised as you are,' retorted Hermione smoothly, 'but that's no reason for me to want to have anything to do with you.'

Draco's eyebrows raised a fraction. 'You'd be lucky, Mudblood. Now why don't you go and bury that bushy head in a book, before I do something I'll regret.'

Hermione glared at him. 'You'd better not make threats to me,' she hissed, out of earshot of the prefects. With that, she promptly diverted her attention towards her school bag, opening it in the sort of efficient manner that would persuade Malfoy she was not about to start looking for reasons to talk to him any longer than was strictly necessary.

* * *

Upon arrival to Hogwarts, whence by the rain had thankfully slowed to a drizzle, Hermione assisted the prefects as they herded the younger years into the golden stagecoaches leading to the castle in the fading light. She noticed Malfoy hadn't bothered with this and glared at him through various groups of students; although he was too far away to notice. When the small group if second years near her had been safely directed to a coach, Hermione joined Harry, Ron, Ginny and Neville into a coach of their own. Neville was chattering rather excitedly about the miniature rare magical-herb garden he had planted over the summer, and how well the plants were doing. Hermione, rather interested, leaned forward to better hear what Neville was saying, but Ginny, in the seat next to her, chose to stare out of the window, obviously miles away.

'You okay, Gin?' asked Harry, reaching for her hand.

'Oh, 'course,' answered Ginny, smiling at her boyfriend.

Harry and Ginny had started going out since Harry had last visited the Burrow, at the end of the summer holidays. Hermione knew that Ginny had liked Harry, on-and-off it may have been, for a long time, so she was pleased for her friend, and the fact that Ron approved the match for once as well, or so it seemed. Harry seemed happier than he had been in a while also, as it had been so difficult for him losing people he loved in past times. During her stay at the Burrow, Hermione had once caught Harry staring at photographs of his parents from years ago, alone in Ron's bedroom, and hadn't disturbed him. She knew the loss of Sirius had gone deeper than she could imagine, although last year they had found there was a way...if you could just listen to the voices behind the veil in the Department of Mysteries, it was possible to hear Sirius' echo. This was a tiny consolation, she supposed.

As for herself, however, she had a feeling Ron would quite like to ask her out, but she had always tried to postpone that moment. She wasn't quite sure why, but she was sure she never wanted to be with anyone who wasn't 'the One', so she left it for the moment. Every once in a while, she and Viktor Krum would Owl one another, although this wasn't really romantic; she mainly she saw him as a distant friend. However, it was amusing, if not a little callous, to see Ron's face whenever he found out they were still in touch.

Besides, Hermione considered herself far too busy preparing for NEWTs for a love life, and nothing would distract her from her final, most important academic year at Hogwarts.

Before long, they arrived at the castle, following the surge of pupils through the towering iron gates. Hogwarts was dramatically lit for a second as lightning flashed, making it look spectacular against the now pitch black sky. In the Entrance Hall, Ron and Harry were waving and hailed Seamus and Dean. Hermione wrung rain from her thick mane of hair as she and Ginny followed the boys in the Great Hall and sat down at the long Gryffindor house table, and Hermione contemplated the rest of the evening.

During the meeting on the Hogwarts Express, she had been extremely shocked to be informed that she had to share a dormitory with Malfoy! Of all the people...she had thought angrily...yet instinctively glancing up at his irritating, handsome face as this development was announced. She hadn't, after all, heard about this arrangement before this evening, although she couldn't have imagined Percy Weasley complaining about having to share his dormitory with Head Girl Penelope Clearwater...Draco Malfoy, however, was an entirely different entity...

Despite this, the mood was bright among her friends, with Seamus Finnigan keeping everyone entertained with his stories about visiting a particularly dark pub with a terrible reputation while in Ireland with his parents in the holidays. Apparently it often staged performances by the Hobgoblins, a notorious band of four young wizards who led a "real crazy" lifestyle, and had been caught on more than one occasion in possession of Class-A Non-Tradeable substances.

'Though of course they never got to hear about that one!' Seamus joked; his parents were obviously quite strict.

Hermione, although slightly disapproving, smiled. Ron laughed heartily as he shovelled down large amounts of chicken pie along with Harry. Hermione looked fondly around at all the people she had missed since last year, and the castle itself with its unique medieval splendour. She scanned the table to look for any new members of staff, and saw Hagrid talking animatedly with Professor Sprout, having led the first years on the famous rainy journey across the lake. She saw Dumbledore and McGonagall in deep conversation, although Snape was eating in apparent silence on Dumbledore's other side. Hermione aimed to get a good mark in Snape's class this year, but like Harry, she liked him least of all the teachers at Hogwarts.

After the feast and routine sorting of the timid-looking first-years, when everyone was relaxed, Dumbledore stood up to make his start of term speech. He began by gravely warning everyone to be sensible and responsible while in Hogsmeade, and not to stray out of bounds to the Forbidden Forest, as they were now living in dangerous times.

Hermione's mind wandered uncharacteristically, to Harry sitting beside her. She often worried about him now, as Voldemort was still yet to be vanquished, and she had heard from Ron back at the Burrow that Dumbledore would be placing extra magical protection on Hogwarts this year. Things were evidently becoming serious, as Voldemort now had a great deal of power, and as they all knew, Harry would be one of his prime targets, once he had recruited enough followers. This was worrying, even though Harry now had the majority of the school supporting him, Slytherins excluded. However, although his life was troubled and he often appeared moody or withdrawn, Hermione knew he really had a heart of gold.

She looked up keenly as the talk strayed towards the subject of her thoughts. Professor Dumbledore went on to confirm such rumours as he announced, 'Hogwarts has, indeed been guarded painstakingly for the coming school year, as I have of course taken into account the current situation in the Wizarding world. So do not be alarmed if you are asked to report anything odd or strange you may have noticed. These measures are a mere precaution.'

Hermione glanced around the Hall, realising as she did her duties as Head Girl would probably be prestigious this year, given this warning.

'But now, it is most definitely time for bed,' Dumbledore rather solemnly ended a few minutes later, and Hermione quickly jumped to her feet, pausing to remind a Gryffindor prefect to direct the first years to their dormitory. It was time to bid Gryffindor Tower goodbye.

She bade Harry, Ron and the rest of her friends goodnight, left the Great Hall, and headed up a back stone staircase, away from the crowds of students. Remembering the instructions she had received on the train, she made her way along a few lonely, darker corridors to a handsome painting of a phoenix on a bare stretch of wall, and uttered the new, unfamiliar password of the year.

'Wolfhound.'

A polished wooden door gradually appeared where the picture had been and, turning the golden handle, she found herself within a large, beautifully furnished common room with a roaring fire at one wall. There were two tall velvet armchairs, one facing slightly away from her, and a small wooden table in between. The room was rather dim, owing to just one wall bracket being alight. Suddenly, someone coughed, and she jumped.

'I wondered how long it would take a Mudblood to get here,' Draco drawled, his pale face leaning around the side of an armchair. 'Hope you were scared by Dumbledore's little warning...not so safe for Potter now, is it...ha ha.'

Hermione bristled, annoyed. I refuse to let Malfoy get to me this year...he isn't worth it...he isn't. Ignoring him completely, she made for a door off to the left that she supposed led up to the bedrooms. Luckily, it did. The door clapped neatly shut behind her, leaving Malfoy alone.

***

Draco had just slid into his new four-poster bed in his dark green Slytherin-esque boxers, warmed beneath the thick coverlet, listening to the heavy rain outside. He supposed the welcoming feast had been all right, with the usual catching up with Vincent and Greg, and a sly stroking of the thigh from Pansy Parkinson as she slid past him. He wondered what was to happen with Pansy this year. He had no romantic ties with the girl; she was just available for him whenever he felt sexually frustrated, with no emotional consequences. He, of course, assumed she had feelings for him, but he knew she was so desperate to 'keep' him that she wouldn't want to open up and scare him off; this suited him fine. He suspected Pansy secretly had ideas about the two of them, perhaps even involving future marriage. Yet apart from his own gratification, he also knew it pleased his father to hear they were 'courting', which could only be good. Draco knew Pansy wasn't stupid, however. He thought her many things; loose, a gossip, even vindictive, but she was not easily confused. Even at dinner she had slyly whispered in his ear, made certain suggestions that only he could hear, tempted him...and Draco hadn't been able to help having the urge to give in and press her up against some wall somewhere in the castle, feel her pant, have her satisfy him...which was why she now knew the password to the tower, and had promised him "something special" for later on. He didn't mind this, especially. The only thing he would have minded would be if those sharp blue eyes had noticed his gaze on Hermione's back throughout dinner, and then Dumbledore's speech. With that kind of information, Pansy could do anything, he thought hazily, although there was already a clear picture of Hermione's outraged face when she had discovered him in the common room...Would she be aggressive in bed? he wondered...and then his hand slipped down, beneath the bedclothes...

Draco stopped as he heard a sound. A rustling outside his door, and then it creaked slowly open. He sat up.

'Granger?' he called warily.

But then a figure glided over to his four-poster and slid back the covers.

'No, Draco,' Pansy purred, 'it's someone much more important...' She slid herself into his bed without preamble and her hands roamed over him at once, unfastening buttons, deft and exciting. Draco groaned. He needed this, to take his mind off her, if anything. He was suddenly glad, relieved he'd told Pansy the password to the dorm.

'Mmm,' moaned Pansy, her hand now slipping past the elastic of his underwear. Draco helped, pulling his boxers off completely, and he held her hard for a moment, by the tops of her arms. Then she climbed on top of him, sighing, fingers all over his upper body, and her legs wrapped around his lower half. He groaned louder now, wanting her, pressing, raising his hips up.

Meanwhile in the neighbouring room, after a relaxing bath in the rather luxurious bathroom that hosted all sorts of special bath potions, Hermione had neatly unpacked her trunk with a handy housekeeping spell and was preparing for bed. She slipped her nightdress over her head. It was slightly snug now, as she had become rather curvier since she bought it, and her breasts swelled beneath it. This new change was rather alarming, as Hermione had never bought anything excessively revealing before, and certainly didn't plan to now. She wondered why Parvati, Lavender and numerous other girls thought it necessary to show off their figures at the slightest opportunity. But then, looks were not Hermione's top priority.

Once settled in bed with a brand new text book, she sighed, content, as she listened to the storm raging outside. Hermione carefully opened the front cover of The Standard Book of Spells Grade 7, and turned to the first page. But then - she paused - another sigh. And a giggle. What? From next door, she heard what was unmistakably Draco Malfoy's voice groaning and calling - what was it? Pansy. Disgusted, she slammed the book shut and put it on the bedside table, then turned over with her hands over her ears, wishing they had cast a silencing charm. Malfoy has really taken it too far this time, she thought bitterly, and Pansy Parkinson shouldn't be anywhere near this tower...I'd love to get rid of her... Hermione spent the rest of the night with her thick red velvet four-poster curtains firmly shut, finally falling into a restless sleep just as Pansy clasped Draco in a clammy, sated embrace, unable to see Draco's uneasy grimace in the dark, as she kissed him goodnight.