The Only Exception.
Hermione Jean Granger had done everything she could possibly have done to keep Ron Weasley interested in her. She had sat in front of her mirror for hours perfecting her glamour charms, she went to the Muggle gym every single day, she even spent a week with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil trying to learn how to act sexier and still, she was sitting in the Head Boy and Girl's cabin staring out the window and letting the scene play through her mind, over and over again, not even bothering to fix the mascara and eyeliner that was running down her face.
"Uhm, Ginny and I are going to go find a compartment, would you like to come along, Ron?" Harry asked, holding Ginny's hand as they climbed onto the Hogwarts Express.
"Yeah, Harry, I'll be along in a moment, I'll just see Hermione to the Head Cabin, if that's alright." Ron responded, rather hesitantly.
"Alright then, mate." Harry nodded curtly then started walking down the train's aisle looking for an empty compartment.
"Oh, Ronald, if you'd like to go with Harry and Ginny it'd be alright, I can walk myself to the cabin." Hermione started, concernedly, "You seem a bit out-of-sorts, you should go get some sleep."
"Don't worry about me, Hermione. You should be worried about having to spend the entire train ride patrolling with Malfoy,"
"I wouldn't want my boyfriend tired out before he even got to Hogwarts, would I?" She smiled at being able to call him her boyfriend. In between the war and the aftermath of the war, there hadn't been very much time for their relationship, and Hermione was happy there wasn't going to be any distractions to divert her attention from Ron this year.
"See, that's the thing, Hermione, I know that during the war and everything, we really 'found' each other and all, but I want to use 8th year to prove to everyone that I'm not completely a screw up and, I don't want to be distracted from doing my best, so I think a relationship isn't a good idea for me, right now." He babbled, looking at the ground, and running his hand through his hair.
"Oh, I suppose I understand, we have a lot to focus on now," She muttered, weakly, she was really just fighting back the urge to run away in tears.
"Yeah, a lot to focus on." A few silent moments passed between the two. "Right, well, I'd best be catching up to Harry and Ginny then, bye 'Mione." He sent her a sad smile, and then turned away.
Hermione's sorrowful silence was broken as Draco Malfoy strode into the room.
"What climbed into your knickers and died, Granger?" Malfoy asked with a sneer.
"A weasel," She whispered under her breath so that Malfoy couldn't hear it, angrily. "I mean, nothing has crawled into my knickers, ferret. I'm just tired that's all." She actually answered, this time. She pulled out a mirror from her bag, and begun to clean her face, not even bothering to keep the makeup she had on.
"Obviously, that explains the new hair, the new body, and the cheap makeup you're wearing." He looked at her sympathetically for a moment, until he realized that it was Hermione Granger, that he was looking at. "Decided to spruce yourself up for the weasel? Not looking half bad, you know."
"Oh shove off, Malfoy, at least I hav-had someone to spruce myself up for." She caught herself as she spat her argument at Draco, "You're a git, you know that. The only real relationships you've had are the ones with your mummy and daddy, and perhaps Voldemort."
Malfoy glared at her until realization hit, "Did you say 'had' just now?"
"Er, yes, I did just say had." She said, shakily, "What does it matter to you? Last I checked you were a sad little ferret, following in his daddy's infamous footsteps," She added on, just to make it seem like she wasn't impressed by his obvious desire to listen to the story, even if it was only to torture her.
"Oh please Granger, don't fool yourself into thinking that I'd want to hear that sob-fest. I only asked what you said." He scowled.
"You know Malfoy, why don't I just save you the trouble of having to listen at all." She snapped at him, stomping back to the bench of the cabin and sitting down with a 'hmph.'
"Fine then," He said, stomping over to the other side of the cabin and sitting. He turned just enough that he could see Hermione through his peripheral sight. She was shaking a little from her sobs, and there were clearly tears running down her face again.
"Okay Granger," He sighed, "I honestly don't understand the issue here. So, the weasel broke up with you? Isn't that a good thing?"
"You wouldn't understand, Malfoy. The last girlfriend you had was just a chirpy little twit who looked like she ran face first into the wall." Hermione sniffled, and rolled her eyes, readying herself to get into another fight with Draco Malfoy.
"Well, that's not totally disagreeable." He shrugged, "She was a rather repugnant little booger." Hermione giggled.
"So why in the bloody hell where you with her?" Hermione asked, "It's really not like she's the brightest crayon in the box."
"I was only with her cause she forced herself upon me. I never said she was my girlfriend, she just forced away every other girl to walk within 10 ft of me."
"That could just have been your repulsive attitude, Malfoy."
"Oh bugger off, beaver. Besides that, my parents wanted me to find a nice pure-blood girl to date." He grimaced remembering how his mother had lectured for hours about the importance of a pureblood wife.
"Ah, trying to please daddy dearest, aren't we, Malfoy?"
"Honestly, I couldn't care less what Daddy dearest thought about me. He's a git," Malfoy sneered.
"Oh, was there a falling out at the Malfoy Manor?" Hermione grimaced at him, "Did Daddy try to put you in satin, instead of a silk robe?"
"Oh shut it, Granger. At least my parents aren't dirty muggles."
"Yes, because having my parents be followers of Lord Voldemort is much better, ferret."
"Honestly, you walk around all high and mighty just because you spend way too much time in the library, and because you ran around the world trying to save the world. And you are best bloody friends with Harry Potter." Draco snapped, angrily. "You aren't any better than I am."
"Yeah, and you walk around like a spoiled prat, because you come from a family of in-breeding freaks. So, stop, Malfoy. You need to step off that pedestal you out yourself on! I can't believe that McGonagall chose you to be the bloody Headboy!" She yelled.
"She damn well couldn't have made it Weasley! That slimy git can't even handle you, let alone the rests of the school, between the two of you, you would have run Hogwarts to the ground! Regardless of the fact that it's already in shambles because of the freaking war that just went on here!"
"Well, that may be true, but there were plenty of other students that would have made a lovely Head-boy." Hermione started again, "And, I can almost guarantee you that none of them were Death Eaters."
"Not that I owe you an explanation, Granger, but I was a Death Eater, cause that is what I was taught. I was raised in a family that will murder you if you decide to stand up for muggle rights! If I wasn't a death eater, I would have had nowhere to go. I did it to survive, not out of love for Voldemort." He said, exasperatedly. "You wouldn't understand though, you were off being the golden trio, and saving the whole bloody world. You were accepted into the Weasley Clan, and your life is hunky-dory."
"Yeah, that's what happens when you form relationships with people. When you become friends with them! When you're nice to a person, they learn to trust you, to want to be around you!" She preached, throwing everything she could into Malfoy's face. "Maybe if you weren't such a prat all the time, someone would want to take you to meet their parents!"
"Right, because you know what it's like to make friends when your last name is one of the most feared in the entire wizarding world. When people are either to scared to talk to you, or are too busy trying to suck up to you to really care. If it was that easy to make friends, maybe I would be a nice person!"
"Wow, maybe if you didn't walk a round with a posse of rich snobs, people would actually approach you." Hermione said, in a softer voice.
I can't believe he really has feelings! Last I checked he was just a boneless prat. Hermione thought to herself.