Probems In Prefection - Part 1

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A/N:
I know it's been a very long time.
I have nothing to say for myself ✊

Anyway here's another story, this time with the favourite Head Girl/Head Boy trope. Some making out and probably smut in the later chapters.

Enjoy :)

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-The Great Hall-

A hush fell upon the crowd as Professor McGonagall strode into the Great Hall and took her place on the podium. The golden owl that perched on the table roused itself and spread its metal wings, signalling the commencement of the ceremony.

The Student Council would be chosen today. The hopeful candidates stood in single file at the very back of the Hall, waiting in tense anticipation as the Headmistress began to speak. Among them stood Hermione Granger, nominee for Head Girl... and Draco Malfoy, for Head Boy.

-Hermione-

She was so nervous. What if she wasn't chosen? What if that E in Herbology came back to haunt her after all? It wasn't her fault Professor Sprout had left an unlabeled bucket beside the shrivelfigs. The effects of salt instead of powdered mildew had been, to say the least, unsavoury. Known for his particular affection for the plants, Snape had been only too delighted to dock points, and the fact that he was not the Herbology teacher had been her only saving grace.

Besides, she had gotten an O in everything else, hadn't she? And topped her entire year in the O.W.Ls. And-

She caught Harry's eye from across the room, where he sat at the Gryffindor table with Ron, Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys. He waved. Beside him, a grinning Ron pumped his fist in the air, making a small smile tug at the corner of her lips. Her friends were so silly.

She caught Ginny's knowing look from behind him and flushed. It was common knowledge that Ron had a thing for Hermione. She liked him too. Ron was solid and dependable, the kind of guy she could see herself baking cookies, snuggling and having a family with. He was quite ordinary-looking, with his ungainly height, frazzled red hair and freckles. She knew he would be willing to lay down his life for her, as she would for him. She could see herself marrying him when she was older and ready to settle down.

But now as a teenager Ron lacked the one thing Hermione secretly and desperately wanted - excitement. He didn't make her heart race. He didn't make her want to be wanton and careless and behave with wild abandon and do... do things she could not otherwise think of without blushing.

Although someone else certainly did...

Hermione's gaze unconsciously travelled to the Slytherin table, and sneaked a glance at the platinum blond currently standing at the head of it.

All through her life at Hogwarts she had hated the slimy git with every fibre of her being. But there was no denying the fact that the years had been kind to Draco Malfoy. He had grown taller, filled out better. He was not as well built or thickset as Ron - his hips were leaner, the width of his shoulders proportional, and his lithe torso rippled with deliciously slim muscles when not hidden by the billowing school robes. He had allowed his hair to grow out, and instead of being slicked to his skull like in first year, it now hung shaggily over his eyes. Her fingers twitched as she imagined running them through it.

Sparing just a moment to scold herself for thinking of her arch nemesis in that way, her masochistic brain immediately moved to other, more enticing things - like his long legs currently encased in regulation black slacks, and his hands...oh, those hands. A quiet sigh escaped her lips without permission.

Long, slim fingers set off with neatly manicured nails, and yet those palms were most likely calloused from long years of Quiddich, just rough enough to inflict sweet, sweet torture. Draco Malfoy's hands were hands made for sinning.

And then of course there were his eyes. Silver orbs that darkened to molten steel in confrontation, and pale moonlight in the rare moments he let down his guard and a sliver of vulnerability slipped through.

Those silver eyes suddenly blinked, and she tumbled back to reality with a rude shock as she realised the object of her perverse fantasies had caught her blatantly ogling him, and was staring right back. Flushing a deep scarlet, she quickly swung her gaze back to the podium, where Professor McGonagall was just finishing up with her opening remarks.

Flustered but not feeling particularly guilty, Hermione forced herself to focus on the Professor's speech, silently promising herself she would not look his way again.

~~~
A/N:
More chapters coming up. This story is ready, I just have to transfer it from paper to Wattpad. 👀✊

Thank y'all so much for waiting. You the best.

And now a small fun bonus: I'd love to hear your suggestions for the smut. I'll pick the ones that strike me as most appropriate for this story and use them in the smut scenes accordingly, and tag you at the end of the chapter if you wish to be tagged. The ones I like that I couldn't use in this story I'll probably put in another one. 👀

DM your suggestions (don't comment them, we don't want spoilers and I most certainly will not use them if you comment.)

Let the suggestions begin!

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