“Wow, Hermione, Head Girl!”

“Congratulations. We were sure you would get it!”

“Excellent work Hermione.”

Breakfast had been abandoned the moment four brown owls had arrived at the Burrow. These unexpected guests were greeted with many shrieks and exclamations, and their packages were hastily removed from their legs. Hermione had wasted no time in opening her parcel, which seemed unusually thick this year. As she soon realized, this was due to the presence of her gold Head Girl Badge and a letter from McGonagall, explaining the responsibilities and duties of a Head Student. Hermione was extremely honored and more than happy to accept these responsibilities.

“Congratulations dear! You should write to your parents and tell them the good news,” beamed Mrs. Weasley. She moved aside for Ginny, who gave Hermione a hug.

“Who’s Head Boy?” she asked.

“I don’t know. McGonagall didn’t mention it,” answered Hermione a moment later after scanning McGonagall’s letter for an answer. “I’ll find out on the train I suppose.”

She looked over at Ron and Harry, hoping that one of them had been appointed as Head Boy. To her disappointment, neither had received a badge like hers.

“Hopefully you won’t be stuck with some git like Smith,” said Ginny. “I wouldn’t envy you having to share living quarters with him for a year.”

Hermione gave a nervous laugh, remembering that being Head Girl would mean having separate living quarters from the rest of the students. What would she do if the Head Boy was someone unbearable, someone that she simply could not live with?

As Hermione found out on September 1st, that was exactly the case.

*

“Excuse me, watch out, coming through, keep moving,” said a flustered Hermione as she tried to make her way through the crowded train corridor. “Please find a compartment and clear the hallways,” she said to a group of second year students. “You know what the routine is.”

She slowly made her way to the front of the train where she was to meet the other Prefects, and most importantly, the Head Boy. There was the usual crowd of students; she recognized them as her fellow prefects from last year.

Upon entering the compartment, She was greeted warmly and congratulated for her new appointment as Head Girl. She thanked them and scanned their robes for another badge like hers as she closed the compartment door behind her. When she found no badge, she assumed that the Head Boy was merely late; what a wonderful first impression.

“I knew you would get it,” said Ernie McMillan. “Not a doubt in my mind.” He enthusiastically shook Hermione’s hand before asking, “Who’s Head Boy?”

Hermione opened her mouth to answer that she did not know, but was cut off by the sound of the compartment door opening and a voice behind her. “I am.”

Hermione didn’t have to turn around to know who had just spoken. The drawl in their voice had given them away. Nevertheless, she turned, and came face to face with none other than Draco Malfoy.

She looked up at him, a look of shock and fury spread plainly across her face. “Well don’t look too happy, Granger,” smirked Malfoy. “I know you thought that dreams didn’t come true; you and me sharing living quarters.”

“Try nightmares,” snapped Hermione. She stared at Draco with such an intense loathing that she was sure everyone in the compartment could feel it. Draco certainly did, for he winked at Hermione to aggravate her further.

“This must be a joke,” voiced Ernie from beside Hermione. “You cannot be Head Boy.”

Draco raised his hands in mock surrender. “No joke. I have the badge, don’t I? And if that’s not good enough for you,” he said as he cast a quick glance at Hermione who looked like she had been suddenly slapped across the face, “ you can ask Dumbledore when we arrive at Hogwarts. I’m sure he would be more than happy to explain to you why I am better qualified to be Head Boy.”

“It’s not a matter of qualifications or merit this time, Malfoy,” said Hermione. “It’s a matter of setting an example.”

Draco looked at her, his eyebrows raised. Hermione knew that he had understood what she had meant, and so then turned to the rest of the students. “Alright, so we’re all here now. Let’s each chose a hallway and start patrolling.”

*

“Hermione, Ron, over here!” called Harry from the Gryffindor table. He saved them a seat, knowing that due to their Prefect and Head Girl duties, they would be among the last off the train. They made their way across the Great Hall and sat down next to Harry.

“Honestly, the first years become more annoying each year,” said Ron in an exasperated voice.

“They’re not annoying, Ronald, just curious,” Hermione said angrily.

“What happened?” asked Harry cautiously.

“Some fist years wouldn’t stop asking Ron questions about Hogwarts. Personally, I think it’s a good thing that they are showing so much interest in their education. At least they have their priorities straight, not like some other people we know.” Harry noticed that her hands were clenched in a fist, and her cheeks flushed.

“I meant what happened to you,” Harry said.

“Draco’s Head Boy,” Ron answered simply. He cast a glance at Hermione. “She’s quite frightening when she’s angry, isn’t she?”

Harry laughed, but stopped short when Hermione scowled at him, her eyes narrowed. “It’s not funny,” she hissed. “I have to share living quarters with that arrogant, unbearable, spoiled ferret!”

Harry looked over at the Slytherin Table and sure enough, there was Malfoy, surrounded by a group of students, predominantly female, admiring his badge. Hermione scoffed with disgust at the scene. “It’s going to be a long year,” she muttered under her breath as she reached for her bag and pulled out her potions textbook, hoping to use it as a means of distraction.