Hermione stalked through the halls nervously, after the nightmare she had last night, the thought of food made her stomach twist into the tightest knots. She tried not to dwell on those thoughts though; instead she concentrated on making her way smoothly to the Great Hall to try to not eat as best she could. Hermione knew she was setting herself up for failure by just thinking about going to the dining room, but she had too. She had to prove to herself that she could control what she ate.
“Hermione!” It was Draco calling from behind her. He ran up to meet her, coming from behind. “Thank God I caught you, I didn’t think I would in time. Anyway,” he said breathily from the running. “There is going to be a meeting at lunch for the voting on the new Head Girl. Since your name’s on the ballot, you’re expected to show up. If you don’t, they’ll take it as a sign you don’t want the spot and give it to someone else.”
“Why is my name on the ballot in the first place?” Hermione asked. “I didn’t sign up for anything.”
“Well, no.” Draco said, suddenly looking uncomfortable with the situation. “I put it there. I do
not want to live with a twat of a Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw. And they weren’t going to put another Slytherin up.” He eyed her suspiciously. “Just between you and me, Granger, you were the lesser of two evils.”
“Since when am
I the evil one?”
“Just come to the stupid meeting. And besides, it’s not like we’ll be
living together.” Draco said, catching her attention. “I get one room, you get the other, and we share a common room and a kitchen.” Draco saw the excitement on her face and continued. “I don’t use the common room for anything, really, and I always eat down here, so you would practically get three quarters of the entire suite to yourself. Do we have a deal breaker yet?” He said with a flourish.
“It has it’s own kitchen?” Hermione wanted that clarified before she agreed to anything else.
“Yeah, but there’s no one there to cook for you.” Draco said sullenly. “You would have to make all of your own food.”
“Wow,” she said sarcastically. “Making your own food really sucks, doesn’t it?”
“Ah…” he said, noticing her scorn. “I see where this is going.”
She didn’t get it.
***
Hermione was sitting at a table in a boardroom that she recognized from her years as a prefect. She looked at all the new and old faces and wondered, belatedly, if she was going to have to fight for her new kitchen.
“So,” Draco Malfoy said to the room when he walked into the room five minutes late. “As you are all aware, the Head Girl, Melody, has transferred back to Singapore, leaving all the Head duties on me. Headmaster Snape has granted me permission to assign a new Head Girl for the duration of the year. The candidates are: Mandy Brocklehurst and Lisa Turpin, both from Ravenclaw; Hermione Granger from Gryffindor; and Megan Jones from Hufflepuff.” He looked up and scanned the table. “Which are all here, unfortunately.”
Hermione shook her head disapprovingly. “Hermione,” Draco said. “Let’s not degrade my power with that look.” Some of the prefects snickered and Hermione adopted another look of disdain. “Who votes for Mandy?” Draco shouted at the table to regain order, and a couple of hands rose, including Mandy’s. He counted and moved on. “Lisa?” Again, he counted. “Megan?” He finished the calculations in his head and said: “We have a winner.”
“What about Hermione?” Megan asked. “Nobody voted for her.”
“Everybody who didn’t vote voted for her.” Draco said. “And she beat you all by at least ten, so congratulations, Hermione, you are now Head Girl.”
“She did not win by at least ten, learn how to count, Malfoy.” One of the girls from Ravenclaw said.
“Actually, Turpin, she got my vote, which is worth at least ten.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Sucks to be you. Meeting adjourned.” He watched everybody leave, obviously waiting for Hermione. “If you pack your stuff, somebody will bring it up.” He said quietly into her ear. “Oh, and by the way, the password is ‘snuggle puff’, but you don’t have to know it.” Hermione was extremely confused by that last part.
“I don’t have to know the password?”
Draco smiled. “No, Louis the thirteenth will trivia the shit out of you anyway. I suggest you brush up on your history, Granger, otherwise you’ll be stuck on the outside.”
“Has that ever happened to you?” Hermione thought it would be funny to ask.
“Not that I’m going to admit.”
***
Hermione looked around her new, huge, lavishly decorated room with appreciation. She was extremely pleased with the new space and rushed down stairs to see her kitchen. Oh, and what a kitchen it was. Big and shiny with appliances that could do whatever she wanted and cook and bake so she could eat delicious food and gourmet meals. But most exciting of all, she could use her awesome new kitchen as an excuse with her friends for why she wasn’t joining them at meals. It was freaking fantastic.
“I forgot to mention, Hermione, we’ll have to share a bathroom.” Draco said, sauntering into the kitchen. “Kinda sucks, I know. But they want to unite us, or whatever. The point of the story is you get the vanity closest to you, and I get the vanity closest to me. Also, be sure to lock both doors when you do your thing and shower. And,” he added, staring sternly into her eyes. “Don’t forget to
unlock the doors.”
“’Kay.” She agreed.
“Oh, and before I forget, there will be a new kid starting here tomorrow,” Draco decided to add, “seeing as you have nothing better to do than your Head duties, I expect you’ll be fine showing him around.”
“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Hermione said cynically.
“You
are a sarcastic munchkin, aren’t you?” Draco said mockingly. “Just remember, when you’re introducing yourself, keep in mind he’s American and therefore a little pervert. I suggest wearing something that covers everything both ways.”
Hermione shook her head, disbelieving. “And
you’re such a gentleman?”
“I
was raised by a high-society, high-functioning, highly psychopathic English woman, was I not?”
She gasped dramatically. “Are you talking about Bellatrix?”
“Worst,” he said with the same amount of bravado. “My mother.”
***
The next morning, Hermione met Nathan. Nathan was an American who looked like he could have been a model for Hollister. Yes, he looked that good.
“Oh, you have Potions first.” Hermione said scanning his timetable. “That’s great, I can show there and introduce you to a couple of people. Have you eaten?”
“Yeah, I had something before we disappearated.” Nathan said in his all-American accent. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes,” Hermione lied. She looked at him again and saw his book bag. “If you have everything with you already, I’ll show you to Professor Slughorn’s room.”
“’Kep.”
“What?” Hermione asked, startled. Surely this boy spoke English.
Nathan flashed her a smile. “I meant to say ‘yep’, but I wanted to O.K. you. So I said ‘’kep.”
“If you say so.” Hermione said turning to go to Potion’s. “I have never heard somebody do that before. Mix words like that, I mean.”
“It’s a very American thing to do.” Nathan said matter-of-factly. “But it’s not our fault. If you Brits weren’t so up tight about everything, you’d be doing it too.”
“
Brits,” Hermione enunciated. “Are not all up tight, in fact, I’ll introduce you to my friend Ron.”
“Cool.” Nathan said.
***
Pansy sashayed up behind Hermione. “Who was that?” She asked, her eyes wide on Nathan.
“The new kid.”
“Oh.” She stared mercilessly at the back of his head, like she wanted to burn a hole through it. “He’s kinda cute, I guess.”
Hermione turned to look at him as well. He was dressed in black slacks that hung
really low on his hips that were being held by a thread of a belt laced around his waist, complimented with a white button-down. A robe was hanging off his shoulders like it didn’t fit quite right and a black tie was stylishly loosened around his neck. “He’s really cute.” Hermione argued. With deep brown, glossy hair that hung to just below his eyes, he no doubt was the kind of guy who would cause girls to swoon all around the world.
Pansy snorted. “He’s no Draco.”
“It’s hardly right to compare the two.” Draco had an undeniable just-rolled-out-of-bed look about him, with his green and black tie hanging carelessly around his shoulders, his robe looked like it would fall off when the wind blew too hard and his hair was long and messy and blonde.
Pansy huffed. “Sure it is. One is super-sexy. The other is super-cute.”
“Not everyone thinks Draco’s a god.”
“Nope.” Pansy said with a smirk. “Just a smoldering hot mortal who has come down to grace the sight of every person who lays eyes on him.”
It was Hermione’s turn to huff.
***
“So,” Nathan sat down at Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Ginny’s table. “I guess this is where the cool kids sit.” He laughed at some private joke he must have just told, but the rest of the people at the table didn’t get it. “Potions is rough, it’s never been my best subject. I was wondering if any of you had time to tutor me.” He looked around, big puppy dog eyes for everyone. “Of course, just say no if you don’t want to.”
Hermione felt a bout of sympathy for him, especially after what Pansy said. “I can do it.”
Nathan visibly deflated. “Thanks—”
Ginny poked her under the table. “Are you sure you have time for that?” A crease formed on her head. “You’re taking all the advanced classes. You always have tons of homework.”
“Oh, no” Nathan said hurriedly, “you don’t have to—”
Hermione shook her head at him. “It’s okay, I’m actually going to start taking it slower. McGonagall said I could drop out of most of them and take the regular classes. She says I’m overwhelmed and I’m inclined to agree with her.”
Nathan smiled. “Thanks, Hermione.”
***
They were in the Gryffindor common room with Nathan, who, apparently, has yet to be sorted.
“Snape’s doing it tomorrow. Should be interesting; I hear you Brits’ use a hat.” He said.
“Why aren’t you sorted already?” Ginny asked.
“Well, I don’t know the logistics, but apparently the hat didn’t want to come out of hibernation for me. Which blows, because being sorted is means practically everything in this school. Like, who you like, who you should stay away from. Who and who’s not going to beat the living shit out of you.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.
“You sound like you have a story to tell.” Ron observed. “But if it was the Slytherins’, don’t get me involved.”
“See, just like that.” Nathan pointed his finger at Ron accusingly. “And it was the Slytherins’, FYI. I’ve been used as
messenger boy for the past eight hours. Do you have any idea what it’s like trying to track down people having no idea what they look like, who they are, or if they can beat you up. ‘Cause I do.” He said with disdain, looking down at his hands. “The people at this school are so weird. Everyone is asking why my robe is so big—”
“Why
is your robe so big?” Harry asked.
Nathan sighed. “It’s the style. Girls wear clothes that are too tight, and guys wear clothes that are too big. At least in America they do.”
“Not here they don’t,” Ron helped clarify. “Sheesh, get with the program dude. People at Hogwarts wear clothes that fit.”
Nathan joined. “Obviously. But wearing clothes that fit make you look less gangsta.”
Hermione looked at him funny. “Did you really just use the word ‘gangsta’?”
A huge smile was plastered over his face. “Too dumb for you, Granger? Or do you just know what I’m talking about.”
Hermione looked at Ginny, who was shaking her head. “I, for one, have no idea what you’re talking about and would appreciate it if you would shut up.”
Ron and Harry looked at each and spoke simultaneously. “Amen.”
A/N:
Credit is given where credit must be given. “
“So,” Nathan sat down at Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Ginny’s table. “I guess this is where the cool kids sit.”” Admittedly, I
did get that from
Diary of a Wimpy Kid. I don’t know if it’s an exact quote, but there you go. Also, I would just like to add, I am American (North American), and Hermione, Ron, and Harry (and Draco) all have such low opinions of Americans in this chapter and chapters to come because Nathan is the only American they’ve ever met and he’s not the nicest person anyone will ever meet. Also, remember to
Thanks!
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