A/N: I should be doing the normal disclaimer and la di da, so I will, just for the sake of unspoken tradition. I do NOT own
anything except for the style of my writing and of course, the plot line itself. I hope that satisfies you conventional people
out there. Just want to say that my chapters will be quite long…I think, and a lot. I just want to thank Carissa Loh for
being my editor and Denise Chong for being the logical bit of the publication. Oh, and this story is set in Year Five,
without the Half-blood Prince in it. And of course, do you see that lil' button at the bottom? Yeah, that one. Hit it hard
with your mouse then start telling me what you think of this.
Chapter 1:
Are you sure that's you? Hermione
I stared out of the carriage window, bumping up and down as the rusty old train rattled about. My outstretched legs shifted
uncomfortably as they lengthened out to the seat adjacent to mine. I emitted a tiny, almost inaudible grunt of satisfaction,
and rested my curly locks (and my head of course) on the cold, metal window pane. Yawning not so discreetly, I looked
down at my attire, wondering and pondering if it was indeed appropriate for meeting Professor Dumbledore later on. Who
knew what that guy wanted? (Maybe I should introduce to you MY opinion on Professor Dumbledore. All you've heard
for the past six books were Harry Potter's idea and impression of him. Now I am in the spotlight and I am solely
determined make full advantage of it. I think Professor Dumbledore is as nutty as a nut-filled fruitcake. It's something
you would enjoy to eat, unless you despise sweet delicacies and the nuts, which are full of nutrition, are like Professor
Dumbledore's knowledge. A lot and good for you to know as well. And like the nuts in the fruitcake, they are widely
spread, like his intelligence. They range from the comprehension of how a Dementor's Kiss is performed to the
fascinating and tantalizing flavor of his favourite Lemon Drops .Aren't I an analogical person.) I donned a personal
preference of a shirt I had designed in my own lonely time. It was a normal black T-shirt, but with a blazing white pirate's
skull in the centre, for the whole world to observe. Beautiful. I had cut part of it off, so that it came up only to my navel,
where a spiky, silver belly ring rested. The edge of the t-shirt was jagged and all curled up, as if a pair of bewitched shears,
bent on ruining whatever it could, had launched an attack on them. Well actually, that was what had happened and
accidentally ended up looking like this, but who needs to know that? And besides, I rather liked this style. It suited my pale
complexion and also brought out my woody brown eyes. Following downwards, I wore a pair of hipster pants, which were
not the normal denim blue colour, but rather a rather "off-ish" shade of maroon. They hugged my hip bone tightly, and
then broadened as it came to the last bit of the thigh, and generally loosened out to a sort of flowing bottom. I had
enchanted it so that green, crackling flames danced about on one side of the jeans, without the sound and heat of course.
God knows if I could live with that. I had on black Converse sneakers and I myself had again made the pattern on it, which
was a few flaming eyeballs rolling around. I was quite proud of it, to say the least. Reddish-orange blazes really stood out
from the black. (A/N: now, I'm assuming that all of us here are muggles and we all know what black Converse shoes
look like. Completely black with white at the toe area and as the sole. And of course, the trademark star of Converse,
except take the star away and replace it with eyeballs on fire.) I had applied yellow glitter glue on the white laces, so
now it was a sparkly sunshine colour. Perfect. A black chain ringed my neck, with a tiny teardrop of aquamarine as a
pendant. Over the summer, I had dyed my chestnut brown hair jet black and went wild with colours. Literally. I streaked
my hair with copper highlights. Bold, but not enough for them to be banned from Hogwarts. For some unfathomable
reason, I had attached two spiralled wooden earrings to my ears and now the weight was killing me. Other than looking
nice, it had nothing worth wearing it. They were dragging my head down and for that I despised them. Obviously, I wore
my heavy robes over my clothes, in case I was marred from entering the train due to indecent exposure. However, I did not
bother to tug it tight around me, and the front of my clothes could still be seen.
I heard footsteps echoing down the long aisle in the train, opening each carriage door then none too subtly slamming them
shut. I hastily snapped on a frozen mask of indifference, as I was a hundred percent certain that the person in question
would open this door too. Well, ninety-nine percent. Does it make a difference? I thought so too. I breathed calmly
through my mouth, inhaling deeply. Despite my cool exterior, my heart was thudding hard inside. Could it be Harry and
Ron who were looking for me? Maybe they finally realised what they had done, and came back to grovel. I scoffed silently.
I wished and I wished hard. A tear ran down my cheek, thinking of what our friendship had come to. At that moment, the
carriage door flew open with a resounding bang, and my head immediately snapped to face the window again; I'd be
damned if I would let anyone see me spill tears. There was a long and daunting silence. Who it was, I could only guess, for
I had not turned around yet.
"Mudblood, nice to see you again. Which teacher did you suck up to this time? Or else you would never have gotten to be
Head Girl." I heard an all too familiar voice drawl. Good voice, I'd give Malfoy that, but horrendous personality. Hearing
the nickname he had deemed me as brought back memories. Ah… the good old memories. The name affected me but I
never let anyone know that. I laughed along, but it never really struck me as funny when Ron said it was better than being a
Pureblood. I stiffened my stomach to stop myself from getting up and doing something really nasty. I simply made a hum
of acknowledgement and fell silent thereafter. I could almost see him frowning in utmost confusion behind me, and that
image nearly brought on a fit of giggles, because it would have been awesome to see him bewildered. However, I did not
wish to spoil the effect of my position now, and did not turn back. My peace was kept, and was well deserved when he
finally replied.
"Mudblood, you give yourself too much credit to think that you can ignore me. So do you and me a favour and get out of
this carriage." He tried a bored voice. Prior to his knowledge, I would never leave the seat if my life depended on it. My
stomach clenched again to hear him use that word, yet I repudiated to punch him or hex him and contented myself by
responding with an effortless 'mm' sound, and returned to the gazing of the window. Now I could tell he was getting
annoyed and frustrated. I was confident that he could not penetrate my sheet of armour. He sighed in defeat and grumbled
ominously under his breath as he sat down next to my legs. I was, to say the least, shocked. I had not expected that yours
truly would have given up so easily. In response to his sitting down, I fidgeted a bit and tucked a stray strand of hair behind
my ear. I could feel him sink down next to my legs as the material heaved up and then settled down again. Then ,I heard a
thump next to my body and was aware of the fabric once more swelling up then coming down. I narrowed my eyes. Now
what did he do? Casting my eyes to the side, I was horrified to see something there. His stupid foot.
Cast of the story says: (Draco) Darn it! Whoever said I gave up so easily? And besides, why the heck would I want to sit
next to the Mudblood?
Cast of story says: (Hermione) Yeah! Whatever do you think you're doing? Making me sit with a ferret…and what's going
to happen next? And since when were flaming eyeballs nice? Actually, they are…grins sheepishly
Distraughtsenses says: rolls eyes Both of you, shut your traps. You shall find out later…
