Bad Blood: A Dramione Fanfiction

"How've you been?" Harry asks me. Ron sits beside me and grabs my hand.

"I've been well. My parents finally remember me, and-" I point to the badge on my chest.

"Wow, Hermione! Head Girl!" Harry exclaims happily.

"It's not like we didn't expect it." Ron says, smiling. I squeeze his hand.

"Where's Ginny?" I ask. Harry and Ginny have been dating as long as Ron and I have, since Voldemort was no longer a threat. I couldn't imagine why she wouldn't be in here.

"She had to go greet people," Harry informed me. "You know Ginny, the social butterfly."

We spend the next few minutes catching up. Harry lives in the Weasleys' house now, and he sleeps in Fred's empty bed. No one speaks for a while after that. A tear falls from Ron's face, and I pat his shoulder. After a few minutes, I speak.

"Harry," I begin, "how is it? Your scar?"

He touches his forehead, the lightning scar that defines him.

"It's... I mean, It hasn't hurt since it happened," He answers. "I don't think it ever will again."

"Won't it be wonderful?" I ask. They nod their heads.

The trolley comes by our compartment. The attendant asks if we desire anything. All of us order some sweets; Ron orders the most, of course.

"Hermione," Ron began with a mouthful of a Chocolate Frog, "you barely wrote to us."

"I'm sorry, Ron. Convincing someone they actually do have a daughter isn't an easy job, honestly."

Harry scoffs, but Ron just grunts, too absorbed in the food to properly acknowledge my response.

"Hermione!" Ginny shouts, barging into the compartment. She gives me a quick hug. "McGonagall told me to tell you to come to the front of the train to her compartment."

"Okay. Thank you, Ginny," I turn to the others, "I'll be back shortly, I'm sure." I slide open the compartment door and venture into the corridor.

What could McGonagall want me for? It's probably some Head Girl business. A thought crosses my mind: Who is Head Boy? McGonagall didn't bother to tell me. Maybe it's Harry, but he wants me to be surprised. Honestly, how could it not be? He defeated Voldemort for Merlin's sake! There's no one else who is nearly as qualified as him, anyway.

But as I reach her compartment, I see exactly who it is.

Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.

He sits across from McGonagall, smirking at me mockingly. How in the world can Malfoy be Head Boy? He's a Death Eater! I try to disguise my astonishment as I slide open the door.

"Good day, Miss Granger." McGonagall greets.

"Granger," Malfoy scoffs, "I should've known."

McGonagall motions for me to sit down beside him, and, grimacing, I do. I can smell his cologne. He wears a light blue flannel shirt, which accentuates his eyes and hair, which he doesn't slick back anymore. His shirt has long sleeves to hide his Dark Mark, I suppose. He must notice that I am examining him, because he looks at me, raising his eyebrows and smirking again.

"I called both of you here to, as you can assume, enlighten you on your duties as Head Boy and Girl. I have chosen the two of you because, despite some previous actions," She shoots a look at Malfoy, "you both have displayed exemplary academic excellence throughout the years.

"Being Head Girl and Boy requires leadership, and a great deal of it.  You will have to assist first years, patrol the corridors, check the common rooms, and so on. It is a large responsibility, but I am confident in your ability to handle it."