And so Prince Charming and Cinderella lived to be happy, for ever after.
"Bullshit", a small, petite girl yelled as she slammed the book down on the table. The brunette in question looked at the book with an accusing glare, wishing to set it on fire. Truth of the matter was the brunette had gone through a tough time. Her supposedly knight-in-shining-armor had been spotted with the resident wench, doing more than just the lip-lock in the hallway. "Stupid fairytales. Stupid life. Stupid Ronald and stupid Lavender", the brunette kicked the table, causing that already short school girl skirt of hers to ride up farther up her legs. Frustrated with her life, she got up from the red couch and picked the book up from the coffee table. She made two short strides to the fire place and threw the book into it, hoping that it would symbolize her love and hate for Ronald Bilius Weasley and Lavender Ava Brown.
What was wrong with her? Hadn't she done all of the signs? She made herself perfect for him, often putting on just a bit of makeup and straightened her hair almost every day. So, why hadn't he noticed her?
"Whoa, Hermione Granger burning books? Who would have seen the day?", the brunette heard a deep voice towards the stairs of the burgundy and gold Gryffindor common room. Startled, she turned her upper body towards the voice to find her fellow school mate, Dean Thomas, at the top of the stairs, great brown eyes staring down at her own chocolate brown ones. The brunette blushed and tried to hide herself in her naturally wavy hair. She was thoroughly embarrassed. She, Hermione Granger, had done what no one would have thought she didn't have the decency too, and she liked it. It empowered her, gave her something to rebel against.
Hermione quickly composed herself as she saw Dean step down the boys' dormitory stairs one by one; the Italian loafers that clacked against the stone bricks of Hogwarts caught her attention. 'Muggle designer', she thought to herself--not that she knew how, or who. She also noticed how his uniform was ticked and tucked to perfection and that chocolate colored skin that covered him looked amazing in the candlelight. She unconsciously moved her trim arms to her chest, crossing them and pouting her pink lips. "Yeah, well", she began in her small timid voice of an English accent. "It was stupid."
Dean, however, only raised an eyebrow at Hermione as he made his way to sit at the red couch that she had occupied not moments before. He took in her frame as he faced her, taking in that perfect, slender figure of hers and that milky skin. He only gave a smirk once he heard her last words. "Never thought I'd hear Hermione Granger call a book stupid either", he teased her as he put his feet up on the coffee table, causing his trousers to ride up to show his football influenced socks, and his hands folded across his flat stomach. "What's wrong with the book, anyway?" he asked her curiously, tiling his head to the side with a smile. Seeing Hermione Granger like this amused Dean greatly; it made her seem human instead of that robotic bookworm that spouted trivia on demand.
Hermione only huffed and moved to sit down beside him, her arms still over her chest and her face still pouting, making her features more distinct. "The ending was wrong. No one lives happily ever after, and there's no such thing as a Prince Charming", she told Dean as her brown, chocolate eyes watched the flames dance around the book, enveloping in it in its bodice and guiding it to its end, until its merely putty and underneath the passion of the kindled fire. She then turned her head toward Dean to find him only looking at her with a toothy grin on his face. It was then she realized that Dean's smile wasn't like any others. It was intimidating and inviting. She was caught in it. Dean was exactly like a Dorian Gray—intoxicating and mesmerizing. Though, her gaze was broken once she realized he had gotten up and put his schoolbag over his shoulder.
"There is such a thing", he told her in that deep, baritone voice of his as he put his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "Sometimes, that Prince or Princess is right in front of us and we don't know it. Look at Seamus and Parvati", he told her as the sickening couple walked by the both of them. Dean pointed to the both of them as they vicariously shared a heated kiss in the middle of the common room. "They both realized what they had in front of them. See? Fairytales do come true", he told Hermione with that same toothy grin on his face. "Now, excuse me. I have Runes to get to", he told her with a nod and left her, walking with a slight spring in his step. Dean was a kid at heart and fairytales had amused him; he wondered why she didn't like them. Hermione Granger, in his eyes, had what she wanted in her life, so why would she hate what she grew up in? Unless this frustration that she had was aimed at Ron and Lavender, which only made Dean smirk with glee and rush to Runes.
"Yeah, I'll believe it when I truly see it", Hermione said in his wake as she started up for her school bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she searched for her schoolbooks. She would be late for Artihmancy if she stayed any longer. That was something she can count on. School and books with hard core facts would always be there for her, always provide the information that she wanted. Fairytales did none of that for her. Fairytales, to her, didn't provide the truth. Angrily, she headed up the small steps and out of the Gryffindor dormitories. "Fairytales are a bunch of poppycock."