PRESENT TIME
Here I am, sitting in this plastic chair, in a white-walled corner. I never thought I would come to this, never thought that I, Draco Malfoy, would be stuck in the Minister of Magic's office waiting room facing charges of impersonation. So I wanted to have some fun, mess with her head. But I didn't think it would lead to what it did. I guess that's my problem – I didn't think. Now it's too late. I've hurt the only people I ever loved, and enraged all the many people that I hate. I'm here awaiting my sentence – either time in Azkaban or death, which would probably be better. Maybe I'll be lucky; maybe she'll vouch for me. I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't though. I mean, I've hurt her beyond words, and I can never take back what I did. When she found out the truth, she lost it. I remember her blank stare directed at me from across the room, the defining silence. I saw her when they brought me in here, and she looked pale, bony, not at all her usual bossy but surprisingly beautiful self. What if they have to put her in St.Mungo's, because she goes insane from all that's happened? I hate myself for doing this. I never meant to make her actually think I was him, and I never meant to fall in love with her, Hermione Granger. All I did was pretend to be Harry Potter.
I guess this all starts when I was almost one and a half, when my father outwardly followed Lord Voldemort. Even though I was very young, I knew the Dark Lord's name and doings by heart, because my father would sit me on his knee every night, and make me repeat it over and over again. I was a smart child.
The first time I heard his name, I was in awe of it. It was a wonderful yet cursed name – "Harry Potter". Whenever my father spoke it, he spat it out with great distaste, and told me that the boy it belonged to was weak, wretched. So when my father came home one night, almost in tears, saying that the Dark Lord had been defeated by Harry Potter, the one year old wretch, I gained a new respect for it. I remember sitting on my mother's lap, as father ranted on about the Potter bitch, exclaiming that Voldemort would one-day rise again and defeat him. I got the gist of it sitting there – Harry Potter had done the Dark Lord in. Like I said, I was smart for my age.
So that's when it happened. It kind of snuck up on me throughout my childhood, probably helped along by father's once-a-week rages where he cursed the name Harry Potter every other sentence. During my first year at school, I was tremendously jealous of Potter, yet still in awe of him. He had defeated the Dark Lord, was the youngest seeker on a house team in a century, and had two best friends – even if one of them was poor and the other (I thought then anyway) was a filthy Mudblood. I realized, that first year, what I had known just about my whole life. I wanted to be Harry Potter.
The thought crawled out of the back of my head one night in the Slytherin common room. I had just gotten a rather nasty letter from my father, who was appalled that "The filthy Granger girl" was making higher marks than I was. He said I was a pitiful excuse for a Malfoy, and that if I didn't watch what I was doing, I might end up in Hufflepuff – home of the Fluff heads. Better to be a Fluff head than a Snake. Really, we Slytherin's get a bad rep. We're not all that horrible. It's just that some of us ended up in the wrong family, at the wrong time. Me included. Anyway, I remember staring at that letter, and wishing I could be anybody but a Malfoy. Why, I'd rather be…no, it was a horrible thought. But it was true. I'd rather be Harry Potter. He had always fascinated me, what with defeating the Dark Lord. And it just seemed better to be a heroic orphan than a rich snot. From that day on, I wanted to live his life, have his friends, God, even be a Gryffindor. It's not like I was going to start stalking him or anything. I just started imagining what it would be like if I was. Really him, I mean. I guess that's why I was so nasty towards him at school. Actually, I kind of had to be…to make everyone, including my Father, think I hated him for what he had done to Voldemort. I was bitter though. In my eyes, he had the perfect life.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Here comes the Minister, and he doesn't look very happy. Understandably so. He's talking to me. Oh God, he says she wants to see me! I can't face her. What am I supposed to say? I'm sorry I made you think I was Harry, please forgive me. Oh, by the way, I love you. I wish they would just put me in Azkaban. And her she comes now – Hermione Granger – doer of good, fighter of evil, library junkie. The woman I love. She doesn't look very happy. Not that I blame her. Oh God, someone shoot me now.
A/n – Hola! Ok, this is just the beginning of something I wrote while having major writers block on some of my other fics. This is kinda like the prologue I guess, & it's kinda slow. It's in present time, but I'll be going back in time to explain what happened. This is Draco/Hermione fic, 'cause I love them and it'll never happen in the HP books (Don't give me that look. You know it's headed torward her and Ron. I wish it wasn't but J.K. can't go have Herm fraternizing, or whatever, with a guy whose family supports the lord of all evil. At least, I don't think she can.) Speaking of J.K., she owns all of HP and such. If I did Hermione and Draco would already be hearing wedding bells. And btw, review, whether you like this or not.
Here I am, sitting in this plastic chair, in a white-walled corner. I never thought I would come to this, never thought that I, Draco Malfoy, would be stuck in the Minister of Magic's office waiting room facing charges of impersonation. So I wanted to have some fun, mess with her head. But I didn't think it would lead to what it did. I guess that's my problem – I didn't think. Now it's too late. I've hurt the only people I ever loved, and enraged all the many people that I hate. I'm here awaiting my sentence – either time in Azkaban or death, which would probably be better. Maybe I'll be lucky; maybe she'll vouch for me. I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't though. I mean, I've hurt her beyond words, and I can never take back what I did. When she found out the truth, she lost it. I remember her blank stare directed at me from across the room, the defining silence. I saw her when they brought me in here, and she looked pale, bony, not at all her usual bossy but surprisingly beautiful self. What if they have to put her in St.Mungo's, because she goes insane from all that's happened? I hate myself for doing this. I never meant to make her actually think I was him, and I never meant to fall in love with her, Hermione Granger. All I did was pretend to be Harry Potter.
I guess this all starts when I was almost one and a half, when my father outwardly followed Lord Voldemort. Even though I was very young, I knew the Dark Lord's name and doings by heart, because my father would sit me on his knee every night, and make me repeat it over and over again. I was a smart child.
The first time I heard his name, I was in awe of it. It was a wonderful yet cursed name – "Harry Potter". Whenever my father spoke it, he spat it out with great distaste, and told me that the boy it belonged to was weak, wretched. So when my father came home one night, almost in tears, saying that the Dark Lord had been defeated by Harry Potter, the one year old wretch, I gained a new respect for it. I remember sitting on my mother's lap, as father ranted on about the Potter bitch, exclaiming that Voldemort would one-day rise again and defeat him. I got the gist of it sitting there – Harry Potter had done the Dark Lord in. Like I said, I was smart for my age.
So that's when it happened. It kind of snuck up on me throughout my childhood, probably helped along by father's once-a-week rages where he cursed the name Harry Potter every other sentence. During my first year at school, I was tremendously jealous of Potter, yet still in awe of him. He had defeated the Dark Lord, was the youngest seeker on a house team in a century, and had two best friends – even if one of them was poor and the other (I thought then anyway) was a filthy Mudblood. I realized, that first year, what I had known just about my whole life. I wanted to be Harry Potter.
The thought crawled out of the back of my head one night in the Slytherin common room. I had just gotten a rather nasty letter from my father, who was appalled that "The filthy Granger girl" was making higher marks than I was. He said I was a pitiful excuse for a Malfoy, and that if I didn't watch what I was doing, I might end up in Hufflepuff – home of the Fluff heads. Better to be a Fluff head than a Snake. Really, we Slytherin's get a bad rep. We're not all that horrible. It's just that some of us ended up in the wrong family, at the wrong time. Me included. Anyway, I remember staring at that letter, and wishing I could be anybody but a Malfoy. Why, I'd rather be…no, it was a horrible thought. But it was true. I'd rather be Harry Potter. He had always fascinated me, what with defeating the Dark Lord. And it just seemed better to be a heroic orphan than a rich snot. From that day on, I wanted to live his life, have his friends, God, even be a Gryffindor. It's not like I was going to start stalking him or anything. I just started imagining what it would be like if I was. Really him, I mean. I guess that's why I was so nasty towards him at school. Actually, I kind of had to be…to make everyone, including my Father, think I hated him for what he had done to Voldemort. I was bitter though. In my eyes, he had the perfect life.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Here comes the Minister, and he doesn't look very happy. Understandably so. He's talking to me. Oh God, he says she wants to see me! I can't face her. What am I supposed to say? I'm sorry I made you think I was Harry, please forgive me. Oh, by the way, I love you. I wish they would just put me in Azkaban. And her she comes now – Hermione Granger – doer of good, fighter of evil, library junkie. The woman I love. She doesn't look very happy. Not that I blame her. Oh God, someone shoot me now.
A/n – Hola! Ok, this is just the beginning of something I wrote while having major writers block on some of my other fics. This is kinda like the prologue I guess, & it's kinda slow. It's in present time, but I'll be going back in time to explain what happened. This is Draco/Hermione fic, 'cause I love them and it'll never happen in the HP books (Don't give me that look. You know it's headed torward her and Ron. I wish it wasn't but J.K. can't go have Herm fraternizing, or whatever, with a guy whose family supports the lord of all evil. At least, I don't think she can.) Speaking of J.K., she owns all of HP and such. If I did Hermione and Draco would already be hearing wedding bells. And btw, review, whether you like this or not.