Hey everybody! So, this is my first, hopefully successful fic.

Reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated! Hope you enjoy it! :)

Chapter 1

The man sighed. She sighed.

"This is bloody irritating," the man quipped, the dull rim of his nails nipping his palm.

Her lips thinned as another complaint shattered the comfortable silence that she had grown quite accustomed to. Her wary, typical brown eyes lingered on the illumination of the crescent moon, inhaling the odd sight before allowing it to settle on the man beside her.

Hermione's eyes observed and observed the young man. Her mind had presumed wrong, and her eyes were left to confront the truth . Her mind expected the normality of a man's features, but her eyes revealed a dark, undefined figure. She saw nothing with the exception of the physical outline of the lanky figure. The rigid outline contributed nothing to her mental state.

Though, her mind analyzed the situation, her outward appearance abided with casualty. As if she had saw nothing odd at all.

The heated tension gradually rose, laced with penetrating irritation; Hermione having a relevant frown to display as a crude warning to him if he continued with the relentless wasn't sure if she'd survive another one from the man.

You'd think after ensuing four months of rounds, he'd grow wonted of it. Apparently not. It was as if it was his life's mission to ensure her misery.

"Then, you should of settled being partners with Hannah Abbott, but apparently, you weren't capable of having the propriety to tolerate a 'bloody mugglepuff'," Hermione huffed, suppressing the protruding urge to smack his almighty face.

She felt his dark eyes narrow at her head, the hairs on the nape of her neck standing stiff. "I should have of accepted the mugglepuff. It's much better than accompanying a mudblood," he retorted curtly.

Her head snapped towards his direction. The insufferable git, she thought. Though, the anger ceased as quickly as it ignited at the startling confrontation with his befuddling appearance. She still couldn't see him. Again, she said nothing concerning his appearance. In truth, Hermione wasn't allowed to say anything about it.

"You're simply aggravated with yourself. You won't admit to the fact, that I receive higher marks than you do whilst my blood is apparently, 'impure.'"

Hermione felt the smirk of the young man wax, the unintentional proclamation hidden in her words becoming noted to her.

"You said it."

She was nearly ready to tear his head off.

"You are incorrigible, you prejudiced wanker!"

Hermione gasped.

"You sleep like the rudy dead when you rest, 'Mione," a hearty voice mused as the rustling of clamoring objects collided with each other. Hermione's aggravation did not rest.

The brunette inwardly groaned as her eyes dismissed the blurry haze, finding herself focusing on the youngest Weasley.

Her bushy brows knitted tightly together, forming a subtle crease between her eyebrows. The crease between her brows had found itself a home due to the consistent stress she was given. Thanks to the previous year, she thought sarcastically.

She shifted herself to settle lying on her rear side; her eyelids contended, the fatigue was not cooperating with her need to awaken genuinely. The limpid flashes of her bright surroundings were the profound method to the predicament. Hermione had definitely woken up with what her eyes had perceived.

"Ginny," she breathed. "What's the need for..."

Oh crap.

Luggages were rudely candid due to the fact that they were wide open and laid comfortably on her foot much to Hermione's chagrin. Women's clothing with the exception of undergarments were sprawled to conceal every inch of the wooden floor as well as the foot of the bed. Her uniform laid idly beside her, evincing the presumption she had formed with the objects before her.

Oh crap.

The realization had inflicted such an immense impact, which led Hermione to burst in the frantic, incoherent ramblings. She jostled the covers off of her, pushing to her feet. Her hair was wild, reflecting her eyes. Hermione's clothes were traditional, cotton pajamas, everything a gentle shade of sky blue from the shoulder down. Molly had given them to her due to her lack of clothes which she had taken in deep appreciation. The expansion of her curly hair was definitely not appreciated, but there was little to do to repair. Though, her appearance was the least of her concerns.

It was her first day as a 7th year at Hogwarts and she had awoken quite late. Though, it appeared as her definition of 'late' wasn't exactly the proper definition compared to others.

"Settle down, Hermione," Ginny assured. "You have plenty of time despite the fact that I was the first to wake," she chuckled, swiping her bright auburn her to the right of her shoulder.

Her eyes flamed with resolute panic. "You didn't have the decency to waken me?"

She merely shrugged in response, the silence folding away the tension that Hermione consisted of. "I assumed you were fondly dreaming of something that I wouldn't venture to interrupt," Ginny simply quipped as a matter-of-factly.

What? She arched a quizzical brow. Hermione opened and closed her mouth a number of times.

"What are you talking about?"

Ginny threw her a frisky glare. "You were smiling. Have you finally gotten shagged? Though, if that's the case," she said, displaying a sly grin, "then it technically doesn't qualify as a genuine shag, 'Mione."

She continued to look thrown off, for that dream was nowhere near pleasant. It irritated her to no ends, having no indication that she wasn't going to be able to disclose the dark, masked man. Perhaps, she were merely restless due to her not having knowledge about who received the position of Head Boy. Or she was dotting over how the year would develop due to Harry and Ron leaving her to fend for herself at Hogwarts.

Hermione silently cursed her thoughts for indirectly referring to Harry and Ron for her apprehensiveness. Despite the fact that those two were partially the reason for her mental downfall.

Evidently, it was entirely rational for Harry and Ron to venture off in search of horcruxes, but not for serene Hermione. And, for the Order to finalize the decision! The bushy, auburn-haired woman was the patent brains of every operation the trio operated and every, single operation was successfully prosecuted. Though, it might of narrowly worked, it still worked. They've left her aside from the action to shield Hogwarts.

She had every right to be there alongside the two. They were lost without her, excluding her modesty. Hermione supposed it was the best resolution made for her, though her heart yearned to be elsewhere.

Though, Hermione didn't know the reason for her subconscious's selection for her dream. Though, the one fact she was infinitely certain of was that she was strangely amused of it.

It was odd. Odd was the accurate word to describe what she felt.

As if she was floating in undefined memories, having Hermione to witness something that she didn't have any part of.

"And, every time I shook you, you refused and resumed back to your position," Ginny added, raising both of her brows at her.

Hermione mimicked her actions, shaking her head afterwards. "Never mind that. When are we headed to King's Cross?" She asked, attempting to switch the curious subject.

"A quarter after 10."

"What time is it now?"

"10:05."

Hermione blanched. "Ginny! You should of woken me up earlier regardless!"

"I'm not at fault because you wouldn't wake because you were too busy being shagged senseless!" Ginny laughed in response.

"You truly are Fred and George's little sister," she remarked, hurrying towards her luggage, hurling familiar materials inside.

"Of course," she simply said. "Now, hustle! We have a rudy train to catch."

Review please!