Disclaimer: I will be writing this once for application to all chapters. Harry Potter and all recognisable characters, themes and settings are the property of JK Rowling. All unrecognizable elements, and the plot, can be credited to me.

A/N: I know I'm working on my main story 'A Cognitive Dissonance'. I have also been writing this one over some time, just snippets here and there, but have decided to post it as my small efforts have suddently amounted to something considerable. It is very different from my other story - the language is a little fiercer, the character attitudes are bolder, being teenages and all, and it exploits the whole Head Boy/Head Girl situation, which I know exists in abundance, but it serves me well on this occassion. :P

The classroom was dark, save for the flickering candlelight that illuminated the doorway and the gentle moonlight that slivered through the narrow windows in the corners of the unknown space. Quietly, a set of fingers gently curled over the heavy doorhandle releasing the stale air of the room, as Hermione Granger quietly entered after curfew. The doorway had caught the attention of the young witch that afternoon as she sought solace from the taunts of a bunch of steely seventh year Slytherins, led by one Draco Malfoy. As it was a daily occurrence, Hermione had lately taken to outright ignoring the twats, much to their disappointment, which only lead to their persistence in their attacks.

During charms, she would consistently have disillusioned flying notes hovering above her head constantly pecking at her, with no worthy message in them other than the recurring insult of 'mudblood'; or 'prude'; or 'suck up'. In potions, Snape had been rather generous at the beginning of the year and required them to work with a member of the opposite house. Hermione, much to her disappointment, was stuck with Blaise Zabini. This only resulted in further contact with said Draco Malfoy. Transfiguration was bearable, only just, since Professor McGonagall did not tolerate any misbehaviour. It was also a relief to have Harry and Ron in the class, which lifted her spirits tenfold. All in all, the attention directed at Hermione was explained by the fact that she was Head Girl and said Draco Malfoy was Head Boy, with a personal vendetta to drive Hermione crazy and all the way out.

It was unpleasant enough that they shared a common room in the Head quarters but she was glad that was all. Her dorm room and bathroom were a good distance away from his, leaving each to their own devices. They had split their duties down the middle at the beginning of the year, but Malfoy was doing little to keep his end of the arrangement. The year was starting out sourly.

"Malfoy, have you nominated the days you want to patrol yet?"

"Get off my case Granger, I will patrol when you don't. Simple."

"Fine, Friday, Saturday, Monday won't be a problem then?"

"I'll have to get back to you, I need to check my social calendar first," the smug smirk forming on his insufferable face as she glared at him from the opposite end of the room.

"Perhaps McGonagall can settle this for us."

"If you can't handle it Granger, then perhaps you're just not cut our for this Head girl stuff!"

A flustered Hermione walked into her room and closed the door: more like slammed it. Draco 1, Hermione 0. The battle was on.

Returning to the room Hermione Granger had stumbled upon, in desperation to avoid giving Malfoy and his entourage a piece of her mind; she charmed the lamps with a wave of her wand and sank into the armchair taking in her surroundings, trying to find resolve in handling one very difficult Head Boy. She had never noticed the room existed, and much to her liking, it was a perfect little hideout. Of course it would be, offering a personal library; a heavy oak desk stacked with quills and parchment; one very fine red velvet armchair; and even a potions corner with a full storage of ingredients. She could not shake off the feeling that this room was made for her eyes only. No, it wasn't the room of requirement, but it certainly had all that she required. Then why did no on else notice it? With little time to take it all in that afternoon she returned in the evening, upon completing her rounds, for a little more investigation.

Being the inquisitive type, Hermione scanned the walls of the room carefully for any hidden openings or clues of previous occupants. None availed across the cold stone. The only hangings were a tapestry of composed stately figures engaged in conversation. As she reached the selection of books her hands trailed along the delicate spines taking in some of the titles:

Advanced Magic Volume V

Keeping up Appearances: How to Prolong the Effects of Polyjuice Potion

Manipulative Magic

Managing your Enemies

Magical Enlightenment: Heightening your sensory perception

Surely this room had to be on the Marauders' Map? She would ask Harry in the morning. But for now, she found comfort in knowing she had somewhere to escape the escalating escapades of seventh year bureaucracy. She knew Advanced Magic ended at volume IV in the library so she curiously disturbed its home and eagerly opened it at she sat cross legged on the plush indigo rug sprawled before the bookcase. Hermione Granger just might be able to secure a further edge to her high achieving status. She soon forgot about Malfoy as she discovered a sneaky little charm for procuring unwanted odours. She did not want to practice on herself, but a mischievous grin formed across her innocent lips as she pondered the uses of the Puteo charm. Returning to her dorm, heavy lidded and content, Hermione looked forward to the next day.

The Great Hall was abuzz with the usual morning gossip at the Gryffindor table. Hermione entered in a cheerful mood, filling her plate with an array of breakfast goodness. Ron was late and Harry was sitting with Ginny as they flirted over fruit salad. Hermione cringed at their affectionate glances at each other and hand holding, so chose to engross herself in the Daily Prophet.

"Hey, Hermione?" She turned to Dean in response. He had been making an effort lately to talk to her but she had not read into it. He was good that way, easy to chat to and had a natural charm with all the girls, a popular crush worthy Gryffindor. She liked that he did not feel threatened by her Head Girl status.

"Yes, Dean?"

"Wanna go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?" he blasted across the table. Her face flushed at the sight of heads turning to look at her, the Slytherin rat pack included. Dean just shrugged at her, realising his tact, or lack thereof, his shamelessness apparent nonetheless. Hermione found herself in a difficult situation. She didn't want to look like a fussy prude, like she was so sorely labelled. And, anyway, how could she refuse? It's not like she had them lining up with such requests; he wasn't bad company after all.

"Yeah, okay," she responded with a false confidence and shot him her best smile to conceal her nerves as he beamed back at her. She returned back to her reading, but yrying to act indifferent was rather difficult. After a few controlled minutes, she gracefully, or at least swiftly, walked out of the hall for her first class. She felt rather giddy, like a schoolgirl. 'How appropriate', she chuckled to herself as she turned the corner in the direction of the dungeons.

Her moment was ruined by the sight of her lab partner and the beloved Head Boy strutting from the opposite direction.

"Threatening people to ask you out in public is a little desperate, Granger," Malfoy snidely remarked. Blaise sent a curt nod to the Head Girl before acknowledging Malfoy's taunt with a snort.

"Maybe I'd consider threatening you to a date too, if only you weren't - you!" she retorted, looking rather bored at the direction of the conversation.

"Sorry to disappoint, Granger, but it would never work out, you being a Gryffindor and an undersirable mudblood," he scolded, as they closed in on each other. She turned swiftly into the classroom and walked over to sit at her assigned desk. Blaise walked up and sat down next to her. Malfoy took his place at the desk in front, turning his chair to face them. Hermione's rubbed her palms over her face in anguish, emitting a faint groan. How could Snape do this to her? She was the best potions student and the Head Girl; surely she had some right to free choice? Malfoy, noticing her frustration and feeling rather pleased, continued to eye her in an attempt to make her snap.

"Granger," he opened, "didn't know you were interested in the opposite sex. I'd classify you as one of the asexual types who get off on new release books." His eyes twinkled with disgust. Hermione sighed, lifting her wand and pointing it in the direction of his face.

"Malfoy, as Head Boy, try and act the part. Get over yourself, and my sexual orientation. Now turn your chair around, or I will make you turn around," she warned through clenched teeth, glaring fiercely into his ice drawn eyes. Before Malfoy could retaliate, Snape walked in, effectively ending any further argument. Blaise shoved Malfoy in the shoulder to turn around, motioning his head in the direction of Snape.

"Didn't know sexual was in your vocab, Granger," he retorted maliciously, breaking his glare as he reluctantly turned to face the front.

Professor Snape spoke rapidly, instructing them on today's task, a sleeping potion: Dormiri. Hermione set to work, grabbing the ingredients. The atmosphere between her and Blaise was rather tense, she didn't feel like talking and he seemed to be avoiding throwing crude comments her way.

As the cauldron boiled away, Hermione looked over the table to Dean Thomas, who was partnered with Pansy Parkinson, perusing over his rather handsome profile as she waited to add her next ingredient. His chestnut hair spiked at the front; she liked his edgy look. He turned to look at her, catching her eyes and mouthed, "hey". She sent him a small wave and he winked. Her giddiness returned.

"Granger, are you going to add the bulbs or are you waiting for an invite?" Blaise had been eyeing her exchange with the Gryffindor from sheer boredom and took pleasure in reminding her about the task at hand.

"Oh, right. Sorry," she murmured, adding the ingredient and stirring once. He rolled his eyes knowingly. Hermione did not blush, she merely shrugged it off. Why give the Slytherin the satisfaction.

"You Gryffindor kids act all innocent. I know for a fact that is not the case," Blaise commented nonchalantly.

"Why do I want to hear this, Zabini?" Hermione questioned snidely.

"I guess you don't. Just wait for Thomas to show you," he quipped.

"Whatever." Hermione dismissed his remark as she realised the potion was complete, having turned a very bold azure. She flicked her wrist, wand in hand, and the contents of the cauldron relocated to an empty flask, as she sealed it with the stopper.

"Make sure you label your flasks, I don't want to have to guess, although it would be easy for some of you," Snape snapped as he looked over at Gryffindors in particular. The Slytherins of course snickered; they always sought delight in Snape's singling out of the rival house. As Hermione packed her belongings, Dean walked over to greet her.

"Mind if I walk you to your next class?" Dean suggested eagerly. Blaise made a gagging sound and gesture at Malfoy who couldn't help himself laugh at their expense.

"Skip the foreplay, Thomas, and get a room. Oh wait, it's Granger, you might need to hold hands first," Malfoy interjected, his lips curling into a sneer.

"Jealous much, Malfoy?" Dean was a smooth talker.

"If only…" he started before pausing and running his eye over Hermione, "Mudbloods just don't do it for me." Blaise could not restrain himself from snickering at the sight. Hermione rolled her eyes in frustration, and Dean was plain livid, fist forming, almost ready to pounce. He was known in Gryffindor for his short temper and preference for muggle methods in such situations. "Thomas, in all your rage, for reasons beyond me, let me remind you that I am the Head Boy, this will end badly for you," Malfoy threatened icily, his eyes narrowing.

"Just ignore him, lets go," Hermione grabbed Dean's arm leading him away, not bothering to even give Malfoy the satisfaction of her glare. Dean grudgingly followed while the two Slytherin prats clearly were not in a state of suppressed laughter.

"I don't know how you deal with that – that – sod," Dean said seething. "If you need peace of mind, let me give him a piece of my fist." Dean's eyes filled with mirth at the thought of Malfoy being knocked out cold.

"He's not worth it, and his bloody Head Boy status is like his immunity. He can get away with harassing everyone but unfortunately, I am the only one in a position to dish it back. Trust me when I say, I am working on giving him a taste of his own medicine," Hermione reassured, grinning like the Cheshire cat in contemplation.

"Always knew you had a rebellious streak," Dean teased, flirting with the idea of bad girl Hermione. He was rather impressed. "So, on Saturday, I'll come get you from your common room?" Dean suggested. Hermione liked the idea of imposing her male visitors on one very conceited Malfoy, just as he so obviously did with his Slytherin groupies.

"Perfect," she replied. He left her at the Transfiguration classroom entrance with Harry.