AN: That's right; you can all bow down to me because I've finally gotten around to writing the prequel to Keeping Secrets. (Keep in mind that this story is pre HBP). Well, you don't have to kiss my feet, but reviewing would be nice lol. In case you haven't caught on to it yet, I only post a new chapter to a story if I get 10+ reviews for the previous chapter, unless I get like, 6 really long great reviews. Or a review that really touches me somehow. So as much as I love seeing that I've been added as a favorite author/story or an alert… I don't know exactly what you like about it, so tell me in a review.
Chapter One: The Bet and Battle of the Badges
"The smell of Hogwarts: nice isn't it?"
Hermione and Harry rolled their eyes at Ron, who was excitedly looking at the feast that was laid out before them. They were now in their seventh year, and after the war that threatened to tear apart the trio and their families, they were glad to get back to a place that had always been able to hold them together.
"It just got a whole lot smellier…"
Harry and Ron now turned their heads to where Hermione gestured immaturely. Draco Malfoy was gliding through the great hall with his flunky's walking behind him; as if he owned the place.
"Look at him," Harry said with great contempt. "Like he fucking owns the place!"
See, told you so
"Well he kind of does, Harry. He is Head Boy, you know."
"Of course we know Hermione, when you got your letter and found out you would be boarding with Malfoy, you dropped about thirty F-bombs," Ron said with some amusement.
"Just look at him!" she said, as if she hadn't even heard Ron. "Fucking badge on his chest," she hissed very heatedly.
"Wow Hermione!" Ron said nearly choking on his chicken. "What's gotten into-"
"He clearly fights for the Death Eaters last year, nearly took of Luna's head… and Dumbledore makes him the head-fucking-boy. He should have been expelled."
Hermione was fuming. What a little ferret…
"Well at least you're Head Girl…" Harry offered.
Hermione smiled proudly and looked down at the rather large badge on her chest that read "HG" for Head Girl, but both Ron and Harry thought it was funny that this matched her initials. She then thought about Draco's badge. That did not help her anger issues.
"He is really workin' that badge though," Ron said. They all watched him as he shined it for his fellow Slytherins. The "HB" shined brightly.
"HB" Hermione said contemplatively. "Perfect…"
"Excuse me?" Harry said perplexed.
"Its just perfect," Hermione said, taking a gentle sip of cider. "Perfect for a huge bastard!"
"Nice to see you too, Blaise!"
"How in the bloody hell did you get head boy?!"
"I happen to be very intelligent, and I have a better vocabulary than you."
Draco laughed at his best friend and took a seat next to him. "Did ya see who I'm stuck with all this year?"
"You mean the head girl?"
"I dunno Drake," Blaise stared meticulously at the trio. "She's grown quite a bit in the last year or so. Looks like a C-cup now…"
Draco took a hard look at his new roommate. She was much more attractive then when they were younger. And his dad was locked away right now…
Ew!! What am I thinking!!
"She's still a mudblood…" Draco said nonchalantly.
Blaise rolled his eyes. "Newsflash: The Dark Lord lost, Drake. Time to mix up the ponds…"
"With half-bloods: sure. Not with her."
Blaise took a moment to think, and then absent-mindedly said, "I wouldn't mind fucking a mudblood… muggles are pretty kinky. All those tools…"
"Is there an echo in here or is it just me?"
Draco snorted. He looked back at Hermione and thought for a moment. "I'm not saying I wouldn't fuck a mudblood…" Draco said with a wave of his fork. "But Granger has a stick up her ass the size of Mars…"
"You're a tool." Draco said exasperated.
"As long as I'm a hammer so I can still 'bang bang bang!'" Blaise said with a smile.
"Just to prove my point…" Draco trailed off with a laugh and stabbed at his chicken.
"You think I have a chance with her?"
Draco dropped his fork on his plate and looked up. "There are two things I have to say to respond properly. One: No, you don't. You're not her type. Quit while you're ahead. Second: Even if you were her type, and you somehow managed to get her in bed, I now share a dorm with her; and the last thing I want to hear while I'm trying to get my beauty sleep is Granger screaming your name in her bedroom."
Blaise grinned. "Never thought of that…"
"Bless you, then! Last year I almost murdered you with all those girls you brought into our room!"
"What are you talking about… we used silencing charms!"
"Well that figures considering you failed Charms!"
Darco rolled his eyes to the ceiling. He took his first bite of dinner; he hated when people kept talking to him and making conversation when all he wanted to do was eat.
"What do you mean I'm not her type?"
Draco was annoyed now. "She likes temper-mental redheads. Let it go." Draco started eating again and his eyes drifted to Hermione once more as she flipped her hair. She touched Ron's arm affectionately and Draco's eyes squinted with annoyance. He didn't want her, but he couldn't stand how some girls preferred other guys over him. Were they deranged?
"You guys will probably have nice rooms…"
"Yeah I hope so; I need my beauty rest to keep looking this good…"
Blaise smirked at Draco mischievously. "Speaking pf beauty rest…" he pulled photographs of Draco from out of his robes. "I think Granger would get a kick out of these…"
Draco just wanted to eat. Was it too much to ask for? He clenched his fists and looked at Blaise for what he hoped would be the last time that night.
He lost his appetite.
"Pretty great, huh?"
No, not really. "Blaise! Don't wave those around!!"
Blaise was satisfied now that he had Draco's attention. "Malfoy, I wonder what everyone would say if they saw these. I know if it were me, I'd be humiliated."
"This is why I'm compelling you to burn those immediately."
"No! I can use these to my advantage."
Draco smirked. "Blaise… are you thinking of blackmailing me?"
Blaise shrugged. "No… more of a deal."
Draco rolled his eyes. "A bet? Sorry man, I know better than to get mixed up with you."
"So you prefer these lovely items to be dispersed all through Hogwarts?"
Draco stared at his future that was placed uncomfortably in Blaise's hands. "What do you want?"
Blaise smirked satisfactorily and looked at Draco triumphantly. "You have to sleep with Granger."
"Why are you so obsessed with my sex life?"
"I'm serious Drake. Here's the bet:"
Draco listened intently.
"If you shag Granger before spring vacation then I will pay you 70 galleons. But if you don't, I am going to make sure every soul in Hogwarts has seen this. "
"If you're so fucking obsessed with the mudblood then why don't you shag her yourself?"
"Because," Blaise said, taking another bite of his dinner, "I'm not her type. And you think you are, apparently."
"I don't recall ever saying that."
Blaise ignored Draco's quip. "Deal?" he stuck out his hand.
"You know you're gonna lose, right?"
"We'll see Draco, we'll see."
Draco looked at the hand and pondered. "You sure you wanna do this?"
"Draco," Blaise said matter-of-factly, "You're not as hot as you think you are."
Draco took Blaise's hand immediately. "You have no idea what you just started," he said in a dangerous voice.
The boys looked at each other, both sure they were going to win, both sure they were going to be the victors. Also, they had both, unfortunately, forgotten something that would be a huge factor. Hermione Granger.
"You look great, Hermione."
"Fuck off Malfoy."
"I'm not being sarcastic!" Draco said desperately.
"Whatever, Malfoy. And stop calling me Hermione. I would like to stick to last names, thanks."
The past five days had been a miserable failure for Draco, who had been trying right from the get-go to get on his roommate's good side. It wasn't going as well as he would have liked.
"Hermione, why can't we just be friends? The war is over; there is nothing to be afraid of."
Hermione looked at Draco in disgust. "I don't really like being associated with Death Eaters, thanks." Hermione glared and turned to exit.
Draco stared at her back as she stepped out of the portrait. He sighed frustratedly and flopped onto his common room couch. He was not used to being rejected. He was not used to chasing women. And in a way, he kind of liked it. But it would have been much more fun if he didn't have a deadline: if his reputation and 70 galleons weren't on the line. He was desperate. And desperate times call for desperate measures.
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