A/N: Originally I wanted this to be a full-blown story, but I think I like it the way it is. This is basically just a practice for trying to create the least Mary Sue-like characters possible. :) Constructive criticism is great! Oh, and no, I don't like Twilight. ;)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.
MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING:
The library was quiet. Rows upon rows of dusty antiques met her eyes as she padded in, feet clad only in striped socks. The delicious mixed scents of wet ink, old parchment, and coming rain greeted her. Yes, the library was definitely her favorite place; especially at the table in the back, directly beside the open window. Nobody ever closed that window, because nobody ever noticed the table in the back or the window there.
She adjusted the strap of her messenger bag. She felt as though she'd paused too long in the doorway. There were students still up at this late hour, spread out, sitting at tables near her. It made her uncomfortable to know they could see her if they looked up. In response to this feeling, she lowered her eyes and watched her own feet as she tried to walk past them without alerting them to her presence. It hadn't quite struck her that if she was watching her feet, she wasn't watching where she was going. The other students definitely started staring when she slammed into a bookshelf. A couple of them sniggered.
Blushing bright red, Hero Smith turned as quickly as she could and tried to disappear into the shelves. In a matter of moments, there were at least three extremely large bookcases between her and the sniggering people, but she thought they could still see her. She thought sarcastically, Of course I stop being invisible when I do something stupid. Isn't that always how this goes?
Hero shuffled to her favorite table in the back. When she neared the corner she had to turn before coming upon that table, joy built up. She'd be alone for the next hour and a half to two hours, or however long she wanted to escape from this rude and ignorant world. Then she turned the corner, stopped in her tracks, and the joy fell away. Bitterness replaced it.
There was a boy sitting at her table, and it was the worst boy that could possibly be sitting at her table. A fat tome seemed to be entrancing him; he bent over it, his perfectly sloped nose very nearly touching the crinkled page. Strands of white-blonde hair were falling into his face. The boy was gorgeous, according to the entire school, but according to her, he was a royal pain. Hero wanted to yell at him. She wanted to smack her hand across his beautiful face so hard there'd be a black hand-shaped bruise on his cheek for at least a month.
However, Hero shrank back, terrified of confronting him. She hated all types of confrontations, whether it was a professor asking her where her homework was or preparing to attack someone as she wished she could now. She wanted to sit at her table; oh, yes, she wanted this table all to herself so very dearly. Hero turned away. There had to be another table close to this hidden one in the back.
She trudged back around the corner that had gotten her hopes up so high. Hero halted jerkily. Fantastic; now there was a couple snogging at the only other possible table. Hero wondered if she would have to return to her dorm room, when that was the very place from which she'd wanted a refuge.
Hero watched them for a couple of minutes, weighing her options. She weighed her options for a while–too long, it seemed, for the couple unattached themselves long enough for the girl to spit an insult Hero never cared to repeat. It was too dirty for her taste.
She automatically turned around and walked back to her favorite table. Her feet were bringing her places she'd had absolutely no intention of going. The arrogant prick was still eagerly reading. Hero could only hope that he'd abruptly drop unconscious (or even better, dead). Alas, no such things occurred. Hero swallowed. She was about to say something–she had no idea what but had a vague and horrifying sensation that it was something strange about the weather–but the boy said something first.
"What, do you enjoy looking at me?"
Hero started, tripping backwards over herself. Why couldn't he have just dropped dead? Hero thought morbidly. She couldn't force anything to come out of her mouth. She was too flabbergasted that he'd even spoken to her in the first place.
Draco Malfoy was gazing at her with one eyebrow cocked. He had a lazy half-smirk pasted on his face, per usual. "Are you going to answer me, or are you too scared?"
Being a wimp was something Hero was not afraid to admit. However, she managed to blurt out, "You're–you're at my table." The second it was out, she wished she'd turned round and hightailed it back to the dorm room. Any place would be better than here now. Why did she like the library so much, anyway?
"I didn't know it was yours. It doesn't have your name anywhere on it."
Was he joking with her? Was he being secretly rude? Hero couldn't tell. She stopped trying to decipher his words and his expressions, and said, "Well, it is, so move." She wondered for half a second if she'd been too rude or too harsh. But Malfoy only chuckled and stood up.
"Fine, fine. It's all yours, Hufflepuff." He swept around the corner, the book he loved so much pressed into his side. Hero saw the glitter of gold lettering on the spine; she could make out the word Dark but that was all.
Hero hesitated before sitting down. She'd wonder how he knew she was in Hufflepuff if she didn't already know. He was in her Herbology class. He was the only other sixth-year in that class. Because Hero had transferred last year, she'd missed the all-important year of Herbology she needed; she thought he was in her class because he wanted some extra credit or something. It wasn't like he needed it, though. There were four truly brilliant students at Hogwarts, one from each House–Hermione Granger from Gryffindor, Malfoy from Slytherin, Emma Clearwater from Ravenclaw, and Hero's best friend Aubrey Fisher from Hufflepuff.
She hung her bag on the back of her chair. Hero wanted to read some more of her book; she'd been looking forward to this moment nearly the entire day. Now that she finally had the chance she felt as though she'd rather be brooding over the rude boy she'd wanted to die. He hadn't been very rude on this occasion. In fact, he'd been as diplomatic as Hero's favorite character from her favorite book–Edward Cullen from Twilight. It was a Muggle book, but she thought it was fantastic. It was the very book she'd brought to read.
Her mind's subject changed, therefore, to Edward and the Cullen clan; Hero dug around in her bag until she found the book. She pulled it out and placed it on the table, opening to the page at which she'd stopped reading. As Edward and Bella spoke for the first time in Biology class, Hero forgot all about her barely conceivable notion that Draco Malfoy could be very polite.
