A/N: WOW. It's been a long time since I wrote a fanfiction. I've written several in the past, but I hope for this one to be my most elaborate. I am open to any and all criticism, comments, and suggestions. I was kind of inspired by Skins (UK) and my own life for some elements of this story. I really hope you enjoy it!

Summary: When Draco is set up with Hermione for tutoring in Muggle Studies class, an unexpected romance begins to blossom. Overcoming family's, friends', and peers' judgments proves more stressful than the pair had planned. Much more than you expect! Semi-AU, drugs, drinking, lemon/limes, DMHG, HPGW, RWLL

Chemicals Like Magic

Chapter One: So Few Changes

Hermione Granger's hand slid across the parchment as her quill scrawled out her name at the end of the sign-up sheet, already sprinkled with names.

"Hermione… Jean... Granger," Hermione dotted her 'i' and smiled, looking up at the Headmaster, "Alright, when will I have my first young student to assist?"

Professor Dumbledore smiled, taking the parchment from Hermione and setting it on a mounting pile of papers. His desk chair creaked as he sat back in it, relaxing his worn back.

"Well, Miss Granger, I do have a list of some students who could use your assistance. But I must be honest," he paused, fiddling with his beard, "you are the top student in the entire school."

As Dumbledore paused, Hermione smiled proudly at this compliment. She had worked hard to earn it. Seven years of a combination of drama, late study nights, gossipy roommates, lousy professors, Death-Eater and Dementor attacks, and of course, Voldemort's daily torture on the entire wizarding world, had made it a bit of a challenge to earn such an honor. She deserved it.

"Yes, Professor?" she coaxed.

"Well, I was perhaps hoping to hold on to you until a truly needy student came about," the old wizard mused.

"Oh," Hermione's smile flickered. She was really hoping to have something immediately available to keep her busy. She also wanted to take advantage of the downtime in her homework schedule to tutor some younger students and perhaps brush-up on her own past studies. Not that she needed it. She was, after all, the top student at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Professor Dumbledore picked up quickly on her disappointment.

"Miss Granger, I know you may be a bit disappointed, but I assure you, it won't be long before I find you a tutee whose needs are much greater than others'. Then, I will pull out my special weapon, and that weapon is you," Dumbledore smiled reassuringly.

Hermione smiled and did feel special.

"Alright, Professor, I can wait," the young woman said, standing and pulling her sweater off of the back of the chair she had been sitting in, "Just let me know when that needy student appears."

"I will, Miss Granger. And thank you again for volunteering your services."

Hermione nodded and walked out of the Headmaster's office. She folded her warm brown sweater over her arms and started down the empty corridor toward the Gryffindor common room.

It was nearly silent in the halls, except for the occasional sound from a classroom as Hermione passed by. She took a moment to enjoy the sound of the heels of her conservative black-strapped shoes clicking on the stone floor. She had just bought these shoes from a boutique in Hogsmeade, and was quite proud of them. They were a soft black leather and rather comfortable for daily wear.

She approached the familiar room of enchanted stairs and carefully selected which staircase to step onto. Just as they had the past 6 years, the staircase shifted to meet an adjacent staircase. Hermione's knee-length black pleated skirt shifted and bounced with her movements. She wore the same white button-down style shirt that she wore nearly every day, with the two top buttons undone. Her hair was up in a tight bun, and for make-up, she wore only a clear lip-gloss.

She approached the portrait entrance to the Gryffindor common room, stated the password, "caduceus," and stepped through the hole behind the portrait.

The Gryffindor common room was warm and welcoming as always. The room was scattered with people either curled up on couches, playing cards at the table, gossiping in huddles, or just enjoying their afternoons as they saw fit.

"Wotcher, 'Mione!" Ron hollered across the room, grinning like a fool. On his lap was Luna Lovegood, who promptly fell off of his lap when he stood up clumsily. Luna only laughed, and braced herself on the heavy oak coffee table in front of the plush loveseat the pair had been sitting on. On the coffee table was what appeared to be a 10-inch tall glass vase with shimmering gold and red flecks within the vase. Upon further inspection, it became evident that this vase was in fact, a brand-new bong.

"Hermioneeeeeeee…" Luna cooed, getting to her feet and fixing her airy floral print dress. Both Ron and Luna were toasted.

"Hello, Ron. Hi, Luna," Hermione rolled her eyes, but still had a small smile on her face. She didn't really mind if her friends smoked marijuana, she had learned by now no matter what she would say or how many statistics she would throw their way, they would still do as they pleased. It was safe enough, anyways, and Hermione had more important things to do right now than lecture her classmates. She was ascending the staircase to the girls' dormitory to pack up the last of her possessions, as she would be getting her own private quarters. Hermione had been honored as the Head Girl this year.

She opened the door to the girls' dorm and headed toward her desk next to her bed. The desk supplied to Hermione from the school was sturdy, made of the same oak as the coffee table in the common room, and had been in use for many years. It had a small stained glass lamp in the corner and was relatively barren compared to how it had been kept since the first day she arrived at Hogwart's. Now all that sat on the desk next to the lamp was her laptop, a birthday gift from her parents one year prior.

Hermione slid the clasp of her laptop over, and opened it. The laptop lit up and she opened her e-mail. There was one message in her inbox, from her father.

'Hermione,

Sorry for not sending money yet this month, we have had some things come up and I had to spend a few days in a motel. Your mother and I have been having some trouble getting along. Currently I'm back in the house, but your mother hasn't been talking to me. Hermione, dear, you're the only one that I feel I can talk to you. You've grown up so quickly and you're so responsible. I can't wait to see you over the holiday, maybe that will cheer us all up here.

Take care, I'll be sending over funds soon. Cliff and Mum send their love.

Love,

Dad'

It wasn't uncommon nowadays for Hermione's parents to be arguing. They had been on the verge of divorce since shortly after her baby brother, Clifford, was born almost two years ago. She sighed, closed her laptop, and leaned back in her wooden desk chair. Her eyes wandered across the desk and over to her four-poster bed, which was made neatly, as always. For a moment, she thought she might actually miss this desk, this bed, and this dorm room… Being close to her friends. Then she reminded herself that the title of Head Girl was a very respectable honor, and she would get so much more done with a whole suite to herself.

With that reassuring thought, she gathered her laptop and a few stray pens and packed them into her leather shoulder bag and exited the dormitory.

"Hermione's back!" Ron beamed, again clumsily bumping Luna off of his lap, onto the floor.

"Not for long, Ron," Hermione replied, "I'm off to unpack in the Head Girl's suite."

"That's right," Luna said, gently, "What an honor; congratulations, Hermione." Luna's eyes were even more glassy than usual. She was such a calm girl; weed didn't change her much at all. A few more giggles and maybe a handful more wacky ideas, that was Luna Lovegood on pot.

"I want to be Head Girl," Ron said, giggling as he loaded a pinch more of weed into the stem of his water pipe and put it to his mouth. Luna busted into a fit of laughter as well, and raised her wand to light the bowl, "Incendio."

Hermione shook her head jokingly and exited the common room.

The Head Girl's quarters were not far from Gryffindor's commons. It was just a staircase's ride up to the top left corner of the room with the enchanted stairs. When Hermione arrived at the door of the quarters, she stopped a moment to examine the portrait that guarded the entrance.

In the portrait, there was a young woman standing next to a grand piano. She stood with a soft smile on her face, and a parasol closed in her left hand. Her right hand rested on top of the piano. This was all set in an elegant mansion in front of a bay window with blue curtains on either side.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," the woman in the portrait spoke with an American Deep South accent, "My name is Lady Clarice, it certainly is lovely to meet you."

"Hello Clarice, its nice to meet you as well," Hermione smiled, and offered the password, "Fluffy Godric."

The portrait opened toward Hermione. "Very well," Clarice smiled, welcoming Hermione into her new living quarters.

Hermione walked up a few stone steps and into the Head Girl's suite. The room was breathtaking. The living room had a rounded ceiling, enchanted to generate pastel yellow and pink clouds with a beautiful crystal chandelier descending to the center of the room. Around the room there were three seats; one was a long, white, leather couch with brass stud accents; the other two seats were matching elegant high-backed chairs with the same white leather and brass studs.

The floor was thick hard wood, polished so thoroughly, Hermione could see her reflection in the panels. A large filigree-patterned area rug spread itself across the majority of the living room. Directly across from the entrance of the suite was a tall window overlooking much of the hillside and the lake behind the school. Placed in front of the window was a spacious desk. Hermione nearly ran over to it, and set her laptop on it, opening it and admiring how picturesque the whole thing was. She looked around and examined the Head Girl quarters one more time, and smiled.

Her bedroom was just as beautiful. Behind a delicate white curtain on the left side of the room, Hermione's bedroom could be accessed. Inside, a queen-sized, four-poster bed centered itself against a black and white tapestry. Clean, white bed sheets adorned the bed and looked quite inviting to Hermione.

The brunette threw herself onto her bed and pulled her hair out of the tight neat bun it had been in. Hermione slid off one shoe, and then the other. She sighed, unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it off, tossing it to the floor beside the bed. Relaxing in just her bra, knee-high socks, and skirt; she let her mind wander.

'Who did Dumbledore choose for Head Boy?'

"Professor Burbage, you can't be bloody serious!" Draco Malfoy howled at the Muggle Studies teacher, slamming his book down on her desk.

"Mr. Malfoy. I'm sorry but if you do not pass my class," she threatened calmly, "you will be taking summer courses to make up for it."

Draco's eyebrow twitched. "This is absurd! What do I care about some stupid muggles? Pathetic creatures are not fit for my knowledge."

Burbage gave Draco a stern, disapproving look. "You can take your attitude straight to the Headmaster, young man," she pointed to the door, "Now."

Draco groaned. He did not want to have to have a conversation with that bumbling twat and sad excuse for a Headmaster, let alone have to discuss with him why, he, Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy legacy, should be bothered to take and pass a course about studying muggles. Nevertheless, he set off out the door and toward the Headmaster's office.

The blond had not changed much in his teenage years. Still brooding and mean-spirited, with a vicious dislike for most things he encountered in life. At least, that's what he showed on the outside. On the inside he was actually kind of feeling depressed. He felt like he could never find someone who he could love because of his cold demeanor and general aggressiveness. And because of the fact that he chose to build this fence around his emotions, he hated himself. This cycle of self-hate had been going on for a few years now. It started after he couldn't bring himself to lower his guard after a gorgeous, smart Ravenclaw girl had asked him to the Yule Ball and he couldn't even give her the courtesy of a date when no one had even asked him.

'Dog-faced wench, why would I waste time being seen with you?' He remembered telling the girl, 'You're a quarter mud-blood aren't you?'

Yes, Draco had always been a petty soul. The one thing more depressing to him than his aversion to human decency was the fact that he was still a virgin. Who would want to sleep with the one guy who believed he was above everyone else? No one knew this of course; Draco always told his friends the gruesome details of each sultry 'encounter' with every hot, slutty female Slytherin student there was. The way she smelled, how she felt, if the carpet matched the drapes… Who would question it? These girls, after all, were slutty, right?

At least now he reasoned with himself and saw that these were things that he wanted to change. The question was not what, but how? He had to find something to prove to himself that he wasn't meant to be nothing but a heartless loner his whole life.

The afternoon was coming to a close and the sun was pounding into the side of Hogwart's. Draco walked down a long hall lined with windows on the west side, cascading light onto his swiftly moving body. Approaching the statue guarding the Headmaster's quarters, Draco uttered the password and a stairwell began to appear, twisting out from behind the statue. He climbed the stairs and walked into Dumbledore's office.

"Headmaster," Draco started, but was interrupted by a calm voice.

"Hello Draco. I understand that you are having trouble in a class. I have your solution right here," he said confidently, sitting back in his overtly high-backed chair.

Draco frowned, "What could possibly help me other than dropping that pointless Muggle class?"

The old man mused, "Well, I will tell you the idea would take a bit of change from you as a person. But I think its time for a change. You are going to be Head Boy, after all."

Dumbledore watched Draco's face slowly change from frustration and anger, to sarcastic, to interest. Finally he said, "Go on."

The next morning at breakfast, Hermione sat with Ron, Harry, Luna, and Ginny. Harry and Ginny were dating, and showing it off with no shame. Harry had cheered up this past year around the same time that Voldemort was locked into the deepest securities of Azkaban, with no ability to escape, and no magical abilities, slowly dying. Harry still got twinges of pain in his forehead from his unbreakable connection with Voldemort, however. Lately they had been more and more painful for him. But, you wouldn't know from looking at him. He always had a smile on his face, his grades were doing much better, and he had less of an angsty cloud around him constantly.

"Good morning everyone," Hermione smiled and sat down to breakfast, pulling a croissant onto her plate. She looked rather rested compared to recent days, her new Head Girl quarters being extremely relaxing.

"Hi—Miney," Ron muffled through a cup of chocolate pudding. He swallowed, leaving a bit of chocolate still on his chin, "Did you hear about the new Smoking Blends that Fred n' George have been selling?"

"No, Ron," Hermione said, "And I don't know if that's completely ethical for them to sell anything to smoke, especially to minors."

Ron protested, "No, Hermione, its totally safe, yeah? Its no problem." He grinned at her reassuringly.

Hermione gave him 'the look.' Ron shrugged and grabbed another helping of sausage from the table.

From across the crowded main hall, Hermione heard a door slam, followed by loud, heavy, and quick footsteps. She swung around to uncover the source of the noise. Draco Malfoy was stomping towards her at an alarming pace. In his hand he gripped a rolled piece of parchment. He reduced the space between them quicker.

"Granger! I need to meet with you right bloody now! Meet me outside the Main Hall immediately," Draco growled.

And as quick as he had appeared, he disappeared. Hermione sneered and turned to Ron, "Ugh, what was that?"

"I don't know; do you want me to get after him?" Ron asked, confused.

Hermione shook her head. "Whatever. I'll just see to it myself. I'm the Head Girl, he's not going to mess with me," she stated, standing and brushing off the croissant crumbs on her hands, "I'll be right back."

Hermione marched out of the Main Hall and into the foyer. By the top set of stairs, Draco stood against the wall with his arms crossed, leering at her.

He spoke quietly, "Over here, Granger."

She obliged. "What is your problem, Malfoy?" Hermione said, standing with a lean to the right, hand on her hip.

Draco couldn't help but notice her knee and lower thigh from under the skirt as she shifted her weight on her hips. Her knee-high socks remained tight and did not slip on her skin.

"Malfoy?" Hermione urged, annoyed.

He snapped out of it. "Here, look at this," he handed Hermione a piece of parchment.

Hermione quickly read it over and shook her head, "This is a tutoring program acceptance form and…" She paused, checking twice to see that she was not mistaken, "and, Dumbledore wants me to be your tutor?" Her face was full of disbelief alongside insult.

"Don't talk so bloody loud!" Draco scolded, snapping at her and pushing the paper down from out of the air, up against Hermione, "And don't go waving this around."

Hermione smirked, "Oh, what is it? The great white arse Draco Malfoy doesn't want to be found out for being a dummy?"

Draco snarled, "Shut up, wench."

"Can't handle the fact that a Muggle-born has to be your new professor?" she taunted.

"Mudblood!"

Hermione swung her open palm across Draco's face, hard. Draco was knocked off balance but caught himself. His hand moved up to comfort his red, stung cheek.

"Fuck, you hit too hard," he whined.

The witch smiled sarcastically. "Listen, Malfoy. If you want help with coursework from me, you'll need to stop by my Head Girl's suite and apologize in person. Come prepared to grovel."

Draco sneered, "Are you joking? You're Head Girl?" He laughed to himself.

"Shut the hell up, Malfoy. I'm better than you now, you can just get over it if you think that I'll take crap from y—"

"I'm Head Boy," Draco retorted, "And we all know males are the superior species," he childishly claimed.

Hermione groaned, "Oh please, what are you, twelve? If you want tutoring, grovel. I'll be available around 6, jerk."

She walked away and left Draco with a worse mood and a red hand print on his cheek. He leaned back against the wall and sighed. She was a cold bitch, he told himself. But Draco knew he had to do this, if not for his own self-esteem and to prove to himself he was more than just a shallow pureblood who would never get laid, then at the least, for his damn grades.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I'll start on Chapter Two very soon. Please leave me reviews/comments/critiques and I promise I'll take them into consideration on my writing.

Rawberry