Chapter 1

Hermione

Hermione Granger was a bitch. She knew it, her fellow Gryffindor's knew it, the other houses knew it, and she was pretty sure most of her teachers knew it too. The only people who seemed oblivious to it seemed to be Harry and Ron. Consider it a mark of true friendship. They never acknowledged her bitchy behavior when they witnessed it towards others and she in turn never unleashed her full blown bitch mode on them. She had a low tolerance for bullshit and simply refused to let anyone…magical or otherwise make her feel like she didn't deserve to be respected as a person. And if that made her a bitch then oh well, that's the way the cookie crumbles. Especially after she nearly lost her life fighting Voldemort for that very reason. No one had the right to make her feel like she didn't deserve her magic.

With Voldemort gone the constant stress of being judged for being muggle gradually eased. Life was far from perfect, but she had a life and the possibilities were endless.

She had returned like all the others to Hogwarts to complete her education and enjoy being a teenager for one last brief moment before adulthood descended with its responsibilities and commitments. Her parents were hesitant about her coming back after their experience in Australia but more than anything they wanted her to be able to enjoy what was left of her childhood. It was her parents that kept her going during the war. Knowing that despite everything they would be proud that she was fighting for a just cause. Jackson Granger told his daughter that he thought her success in battle had come from his father. Her grandfather was a Corporal in the US army and her father been born and raised on a base in England. Going against the military life and getting into dentistry wasn't exactly something he expected for Jackson but her grandfather had been proud of her father nonetheless. On the nights when things seemed they couldn't get any worse, she recalled the stories of her grandfather and his bravery to help her through another day. Her father always reminded her they came from a long line of fighters. On her father's side there were runaway slave, suffragettes, and civil rights protesters. All strong, willfully persistent people of color that she was proud of. As for her mother Helen, she brought her own quiet strength to the Granger family. She was English born and bred with an Afro Caribbean mother. From her side came ancestors who fought hard for a better way of life. Hermione was lucky to come from where she did and tried to make her family proud.

Hermione considered her schedule for the year. This year was nothing more than a formality anyways as all her courses were refreshers for taking her N.E.W.T.S in the spring. Harry and Ron would be leaving permanently after the holiday break to begin their Auror training as they opted to skip the full year and take their N.E.W.T.S early in December. She would miss them but they were beginning their lives, not dying. Distance couldn't dampened true friendship and truth be told they were her brothers.

First up for the day was Potions. She loved the idea that combining different things could solve or create problems. However she was certain this class would quickly lose its luster when Malfoy strolled in. Like all the other Slytherin children of death eaters he was pardoned of his offenses and back at Hogwarts as part of his probation. He and his mother had essentially switched sides during the final battle, but Hermione doubted his pureblood superiority bullshit had suddenly vanished. Once an asshole, always an asshole she thought to herself chuckling lightly. The only thing about him that seemed to change was his attractiveness. What was once a pale, pointy face ferret was now a tall, lean, very masculine man. His hair was shorter and mussed to perfection. His eyes, were stormy gray and had lost that creepy quality that used to haunt them, Instead they sparkled just a bit though they continued to maintain an air of aloofness. His body…well let's just say growing up did his body good.

Throughout class Hermione tried not to stare, lest she catch his ire and open up the flood gates of his teasing. She wasn't scared. She just couldn't be bothered. He couldn't hurt her anymore. No one could. After sobbing hysterically as Bellatrix carved up her arm she had decided War was a valid excuse for tears. But petty shit was not. And nobody was going to see her cry again if she could help it.

She noticed her mistake too late. In her musings she had missed the dismissal of class because she was staring. At Malfoy no less. She gathered her things quickly ignoring the other students milling about who were taking advantage of the longer breaks between classes this year. She was nearly to the door when she heard him.

Malfoy

Malfoy resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he spied Hermione Granger coming through the door to Potions. She was and always would be the bane of his existence. As she took her seat he noticed her once bushy hair was tamer than before. It was still a riot of curls but it was shinier, glossier than he remembered. Her skin had this glow as if she'd been lying on a beach somewhere all day. Her body had filled out and he couldn't help but notice her full rounded chest as she shrugged off her robe. He watched her as she stared off into space and then chuckle to herself as she thought of a private joke. She rolled her neck trying to work out a kink and he suddenly realized that Granger though not hot was in fact, sexy. It was oozing off of her in confident coco butter scented waves. As quickly as the realization hit him, he turned his head, embarrassed that he could have been caught staring at her. He didn't give a fuck about blood purity but her goody goody attitude was sickening. He wanted nothing more to make her shed tears and give up her quest of being better than everyone else all the time. As if she could read his mind she turned to him and just began stare unblinking. He held her gaze as class was dismissed and waited. She seemed to snap out of it and began to gather her things to leave. He wanted to say something. Anything really to let her know that the war didn't make her likable.

Not daring to use the word mudblood he instead settled for 'insufferable know it all'. She was quick to reply even though she had already turned to walk to the door.

"Isn't albinism a direct result of inbreeding?" She questioned almost innocently.

Rage threatened to boil over & shattered the cool mask of indifference he had in place but with a practiced look of vague disgust he simply said "frigid bitch."