Everyone thought that the famous Gryffindor princess, Hermione Jean Granger, is a know-it-all who loves fighting for the 'greater good'.
Little did anyone know that she's Salazar Slytherin's only descendant.
On the day of her 18th birthday, she shall transform into something dangerous, something unexpected, something no one could save, something only a certain blond could help.
"You're not a Granger after all," Malfoy whispered. I lost all my senses when he leaned forward.
Warning: This fanfic contains a lot of witty remarks, sexual jokes and a whole bucket of swearing.
The characters and settings all belong to the awe-inspiring J.K. Rowling and her superb imagination.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING (but I wish I do in my dreams though. Heh. xx)