Summary: "Now, now mudblood, lets not be hasty. I know you are dying to touch me…" He then leaned down and whispered in her ear, "But maybe we could find a more private place, such as…our common room?"

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Chapter 1: The Differences Between Chocolate and Ice

I hated him all my life. He was the dirt at the bottom of my shoe, the epitome of arrogance. He disgusted me in all ways. The way he used women, then threw them away like an old rag, the way he strutted around like a peacock, as if he owned the world. But most of all, I hated his smirk, his sneer, his snide remarks. I hated how he used every bad facial expression beginning with "s". But there was one thing I could never understand. Why didn't he smile?

She was just like her only friends (besides Wonder Boy and Weasel), her books. Snapped shut. There were only two things that ever came out of her: A grade marks, and nasty insults. But that's the thing about being snapped shut. She was always so tightly closed that she wouldn't let anything be put in her. (Not like I would ever consider it. I am, after all, a Pureblood.) She was beneath me in every way. But there was one thing I could never understand. Why was she always so damn happy?

"Honey, come down now! We're leaving in 2 minutes!"

Hermione sighed. As much as she loved school, she could never escape the nervous feeling of the first day back. Although this year, things were going to be different. She had finally achieved her childhood dream: Head Girl. Looking at herself in the mirror, she saw the girl that she had been seeing for her whole life. She was, to put it simply, a bookworm. There was no other word for it. Although there was something very different about this bookworm. Something intriguing. Her once unruly hair was now tamed into soft ringlets that cascaded down her back, giving her the effect of an angel. Her brown eyes gave out a sense of warmth and security, leaving no doubts as to what her personality might be like. Her outfit was if anything, conventional, although little did she realize it didn't leave much to the imagination. Her skinny jeans brought out her never ending legs, as well as her well-rounded bottom. She wore a white singlet top underneath a rose colored bolero, which dipped quite low, revealing her ample bosom. Little did she realize, that her new curvaceous figure would be attracting lots of attention this year.


He smirked. There was only one word to describe the figure that was reflected back at him. Godlike. "If I were a woman," he thought, "I would attach myself to my own leg. Permanently." There was a reason why he was known as the Slytherin sex god. Ice blue eyes scanned the mirror for any imperfections, of which he knew there would be none. His outfit was simple, yet elegant. Black tailored pants covered long lean legs, and his tailored top (black of course) covered a body that had the side effects of many years of Quidditch. He had a new addition to his gorgeous physique. On his left shoulder blade, he bore a tattoo of a green snake, which he knew would drive the girls wild. Draco took one last glance in the mirror, smirking as he thought once again of the letter he had received that morning. He thought he had had plenty of action in past years, but that was to be nothing compared to this coming, because, after all, he was Head boy, and as we all know, nobody can resist power.