The Beginning
It was lunchtime, and Ron, Hermione, and Harry sat in the Gryffindor table, debating about what to do for their project..Their Potions class had been challenged by Snape -- who had recently watched The Truman Show and fallen desperately in love with the concept of it (actually, it was McGonagall who'd done this, but we all know how Snape tries to win the favor of the, to quote, "lovely transfiguration goddess" more than twice his age..) -- to run a television show all week long, 24/7, around Hogwarts. All of the common rooms and classrooms as well as the Great Hall were to have a big-screen television set put in. The Gryffindors and the Slytherins were both going to vote on the topic.
"Why in the bloody hell can't Snape just hit on McGonagall the way muggles do, and send her a bouquet of bloody FLOWERS or something rather than put us all through the bloody hell involved in a bloody week-long television special?!" Ron whined. As if he ever did anything else.
A sigh from Hermione. "Well, I think it's sweet... If someone did something like that for me, I'd be so flattered.." Another girlish sigh, as she gazed longingly at Draco. If only her love weren't such a pampered, Muggle-hating wenchling, she might just confess her undying affection for him... Too bad. He was. Stupid bitch.
Harry made a noise of disgust which everyone knew to be jealousy... He was hitting non-stop on Hermione, doing little things for her here and there, and she sure as hell didn't notice. . . Poor me, thought the Boy Who Lived to Pity Himself, Nobody my age wants to fuck me. I'm a celebrity! Why does Hermione want that ... that ... THAT BEAUTIFUL, SEXY MAFLOY CHILD anyhow?!.. Oh well. At least I still have a chance with RON... Harry scooted a bit closer to Ron -- frightening, horny little wench-boy that he was -- before clearing his throat. "Well, no matter what, we DO have to do this. So. What kind of show should it be? Maybe we can have all the Gryffindors sign a petition and pick the same thing.. There's one more Gryffindor than Slytherin anyhow."
Ron cackled evilly. "Bloody hell, you're right. We have to do this bloody show so we might as bloody well make sure we get what we bloody want. . . I want the bloody show to be about the bloody police force! The bloody muggles seem to like all of those bloody cop shows well enough. Why not the bloody Hogwarts students, too?"
Harry would blink. His soon-to-be-lover Ron used the word "bloody" to often. He would have to cure him of that.. "Hermione, how about you?"
Hermione blinked a bit, finally turning from her long gaze at Malfoy, coming back to reality. "..What..?.. Oh, I'm sorry Harry .. I was, uhm..." -- Another long, wistful gaze at her Malfy-Walfy -- "..nothing.. I think that the show should be a news show. That's sensible and everyone will learn much more, and we won't have to go into expensive props, and we don't have to have everyone be good at acting, like we would if it were a sitcom."
Harry and Ron nodded in unison, Ron noticing that Harry was practically sitting on him, and moving over a great deal. "That settles it, then. Let's circulate the petition for a news show. Hermione, quill and parchment, please?" Hermione handed Harry the quill and parchment, and Harry began writing...
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While this was all going on, Draco sat with Crabbe and Goyle at the Slytherin table, as well as Pansy, who had taken a rather revolting like to Draco, and had begun trying to slide into his lap at every given chance. Draco would always promptly stand, causing Pansy to fall to the floor and squeal in pain, which caused Ron to stand up -- albeit all the way on the other side of the room at the Gryffindor table -- and scream "BLOODY HELL!" at the top of his lungs. Draco had, by now, placed Crabbe between him and Pansy, and Goyle on his other side as to discourage this behaviour. Despite profuse pouting on Pansy's part, it was working beautifully thus far.
"Listen, Crabbe, Goyle. We need to find a good topic for this show, otherwise Daddy'll take away my new toy. I just got that automatic nail- painter a few days ago and it's working perfectly as a torture device when my nine-year-old muggle boy is bad. So you'd better not fuck this up, or I'll seriously fuck both of you idiots up." He shot them both a deathglare, and then smiled that beautiful, Malfoy-brand smile that made Pansy and Hermione melt, teachers chuckle with pride, enemies flee, and Ron and Harry run for the nearest bathroom to vomit. "What type of show should we make? Any suggestions?"
Crabbe nodded sharply, sniffing hard.. He was always doing that these days.. Sniffing like that, as if he had something in his nose that might fall out if he didn't. Heh. Maybe he did. Who knew? "Sir, what if we do a romantic battery? My mum likes those."
Draco let out a long, cold, Draco-style laugh. "For one thing, my dear Vincent, it's 'comedy', not 'battery'. You numbskull. And, I know, I would be the star, but who would be the woman I was so ensnared with? There isn't a witch worth it in this whole damn school." He turned to look wistfully at Hermione with great longing.. Not any witch worth it, but there is a filthy mudblood.. Oh, mudblood! Muggle-born girl with the full brown curls, I long for you so! Mudblood, mudblood! Wherefore art thou a mudblood?! Deny both your father and your mother and refuse your name! But what's in a name? For a Malfoy, by any other name, would be as cruel! Oh, rapture! Oh, love! How I long for you, you filthy, disgusting, studious mudblood, you!!
"DRACO HONEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY! Teehee! I'll be your person!! You can be ensnared with ME!" Pansy giggled, waving frantically at him. "Draco! Draco honeyyyyy? What are you looking over there for?! Look at MEEEEEEE!!"
Draco was brought out of his poetic stupor by the giggling, snorting, whining Pansy. . . He mentally cursed. Why couldn't Hermione be in his fanclub?! Every Slytherin girl was all over him.. Oh well, he had to live in the present now. What to do for the television show?.. "No, sorry Crabbe, no romantic comedy. Goyle? Any.. brilliant ideas.. on your part?"
Goyle blinked a bit. He was suffering from a serious toungue burn, and was communicating with grunts.. As if he ever communicated with anything else. "Ugh ugh uggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ugh ugh."
Draco would nod slowly, smiling cruely. "Brilliance, Gregory! I am nothing short of flabbergasted! You have actually made an intelligent suggestion! And I will use it, too!" He turned to Crabbe. "Crabbe, why can't you be more like Gregory?! He suggested a news show. Isn't he brilliant?! He's damn brilliant. You need to shape up, Crabbe, you fool. Ask him to teach you a thing or two! Why can't you ever be more like Gregory Goyle?!"
Tears had welled up in poor Vincent Crabbe's eyes by now -- he was going through puberty, and was quite sensitive -- and he ran off, sobbing. Pansy looked at Draco like he'd just slapped her -- Pansy had, although she didn't know it yet, an incredibly heavy crush on Vincent, possibly to rival her lust for Draco -- and ran off after him. Goyle beamed with pride. Draco quickly scribbled a memo to all of the other Slytherins, telling them to vote for a news show, which, of course, they would all follow unquestioningly. He would then have gone back to gazing wistfully at his beautiful mudblood love, but, alas, she was gazing with the same expression in his direction. Draco assumed she was staring at the poster advertising for the book fair behind him.
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The next day, in Potions, Severus (who had taken to, er, dressing in frilly pink lace, because his darling Minerva said she thought it was sexy) walked in, beaming at the class rather than sneering.. Mostly because McGonagall had turned up in the back rom to see what he was doing that had all the students "so excited". He cleared his throat. "Okay, darling little children! Now I want you all to be very good. We have a special visitor watching us today -- let's all make your Transfiguration teacher feel comfortable! Now for the vote. How many of you adorable little kiddies have an idea? Who'd like to go first? Any volounteers? Hmm?"
Draco and Harry's hands both shot up in unison, and, Snape, for once, picked Harry. He was, of course, just trying to win the Gryffindor Headmistress' favor. "Yes, Potter? What's your cutie-wootie suggestion?"
Harry -- not to mention the rest of the students -- just kind of .. stared .. Since when in the (in Ron's case, "bloody") hell did Snape say "cutie-wootie"...?... I mean, dear god... When they'd snapped out of it, Harry spoke. "Proffessor, I propose we do a news broadcast."
Snape nodded slowly, then smiled, clapping his hands together in happiness. "I think that's a GOOD IDEA, Potter. How many of you vote for that?" Every Gryffindor hand raised. He nodded once more. "Okay then, class. Malfoy? What do you want to add?"
Draco smiled his sleek, Malfoy-family-smile, and cleared his throat. "Proffessor, I propose we do a news broadcast." Draco's spoke in the exact same tone the exact same words that had come from the mouth of his rival, and every Slytherin hand raised. Once the Gryffindors realized what he'd said, they, too, raised their hands.
Severus nodded. "Okay then! That settles it! While only half the class is in favor of Potter's idea, the whole class is in favor of Malfoy's! I agree that a new broadcast will be much, much better than that dinky news broadcast idea of Potter's. Good thinking, Draco."
Draco looked over at Harry and smirked. Harry just sat there, dumbfounded... He'd had the same ideas! Damn those Slytherins, they were too stupid to realize that he'd had the same idea as Draco, and therefore Draco got all of the credit! He leaned over, nuzzling Ron's shoulder, looking for comfort. Ron shrugged Harry off, muttering something.. Most likely "bloody hell".
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After Potions was dismissed, it was time for bed, and Draco followed his crush down the hall a ways until they were about at the fat lady's picture, where Hermione promptly turned to him, trying to hide a blush. "Draco, I believe the Slytherin quarters are over there... This is for Gryffindors... Remember?"
Draco dropped down upon one knee, taking Hermione by the hand and looking up lovingly into her face. "Hermione Granger... Let me just tell you this! .. You are .." He stopped, regaining his senses. What if, god forbid, Lavender were close by? Or even worse! Potter! He was the worst of the gosspiers... If he did this, it would be all over the school and all over his reputation within a day. So he stood, tossing her hand down in disgust. "You are the most horrible, filthy mudblood in the school!" He ran a few steps away, then turned back, looking at her with apology and love in his eyes, then ran the rest of the way to his huge bed in the boy's dorm, and cried himself to sleep like a little girl.
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Hermione watched as Draco ran away, then ran to her own room and cried HERself to sleep like a little girl.. Although that was slightly more excusable.. since she WAS a girl..
Of course, Harry was in the boy's dorm, crying like a little girl, too. Hermione could hear it from her room... And she could hear Ron, too, yelling at the top of his lungs, "BLOODY HELL, HARRY! I'M NOT A BLOODY HOMOSEXUAL! YOU CAN'T BLOODY FORCE YOURSELF ON ME, AND I DON'T BLOODY LIKE YOU THAT BLOODY WAY, YOU BLOODY DESPERATE BITCH!" More crying from Harry.
Hermione sniffled. At least she wasn't the ONLY one who was suffering from rejection tonight...
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The next morning was the first day of the news broadcast.
TO BE CONTINUED.....
A/N --
SO! That took me sooooo long. x_x. What do you guys think?
It was lunchtime, and Ron, Hermione, and Harry sat in the Gryffindor table, debating about what to do for their project..Their Potions class had been challenged by Snape -- who had recently watched The Truman Show and fallen desperately in love with the concept of it (actually, it was McGonagall who'd done this, but we all know how Snape tries to win the favor of the, to quote, "lovely transfiguration goddess" more than twice his age..) -- to run a television show all week long, 24/7, around Hogwarts. All of the common rooms and classrooms as well as the Great Hall were to have a big-screen television set put in. The Gryffindors and the Slytherins were both going to vote on the topic.
"Why in the bloody hell can't Snape just hit on McGonagall the way muggles do, and send her a bouquet of bloody FLOWERS or something rather than put us all through the bloody hell involved in a bloody week-long television special?!" Ron whined. As if he ever did anything else.
A sigh from Hermione. "Well, I think it's sweet... If someone did something like that for me, I'd be so flattered.." Another girlish sigh, as she gazed longingly at Draco. If only her love weren't such a pampered, Muggle-hating wenchling, she might just confess her undying affection for him... Too bad. He was. Stupid bitch.
Harry made a noise of disgust which everyone knew to be jealousy... He was hitting non-stop on Hermione, doing little things for her here and there, and she sure as hell didn't notice. . . Poor me, thought the Boy Who Lived to Pity Himself, Nobody my age wants to fuck me. I'm a celebrity! Why does Hermione want that ... that ... THAT BEAUTIFUL, SEXY MAFLOY CHILD anyhow?!.. Oh well. At least I still have a chance with RON... Harry scooted a bit closer to Ron -- frightening, horny little wench-boy that he was -- before clearing his throat. "Well, no matter what, we DO have to do this. So. What kind of show should it be? Maybe we can have all the Gryffindors sign a petition and pick the same thing.. There's one more Gryffindor than Slytherin anyhow."
Ron cackled evilly. "Bloody hell, you're right. We have to do this bloody show so we might as bloody well make sure we get what we bloody want. . . I want the bloody show to be about the bloody police force! The bloody muggles seem to like all of those bloody cop shows well enough. Why not the bloody Hogwarts students, too?"
Harry would blink. His soon-to-be-lover Ron used the word "bloody" to often. He would have to cure him of that.. "Hermione, how about you?"
Hermione blinked a bit, finally turning from her long gaze at Malfoy, coming back to reality. "..What..?.. Oh, I'm sorry Harry .. I was, uhm..." -- Another long, wistful gaze at her Malfy-Walfy -- "..nothing.. I think that the show should be a news show. That's sensible and everyone will learn much more, and we won't have to go into expensive props, and we don't have to have everyone be good at acting, like we would if it were a sitcom."
Harry and Ron nodded in unison, Ron noticing that Harry was practically sitting on him, and moving over a great deal. "That settles it, then. Let's circulate the petition for a news show. Hermione, quill and parchment, please?" Hermione handed Harry the quill and parchment, and Harry began writing...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
While this was all going on, Draco sat with Crabbe and Goyle at the Slytherin table, as well as Pansy, who had taken a rather revolting like to Draco, and had begun trying to slide into his lap at every given chance. Draco would always promptly stand, causing Pansy to fall to the floor and squeal in pain, which caused Ron to stand up -- albeit all the way on the other side of the room at the Gryffindor table -- and scream "BLOODY HELL!" at the top of his lungs. Draco had, by now, placed Crabbe between him and Pansy, and Goyle on his other side as to discourage this behaviour. Despite profuse pouting on Pansy's part, it was working beautifully thus far.
"Listen, Crabbe, Goyle. We need to find a good topic for this show, otherwise Daddy'll take away my new toy. I just got that automatic nail- painter a few days ago and it's working perfectly as a torture device when my nine-year-old muggle boy is bad. So you'd better not fuck this up, or I'll seriously fuck both of you idiots up." He shot them both a deathglare, and then smiled that beautiful, Malfoy-brand smile that made Pansy and Hermione melt, teachers chuckle with pride, enemies flee, and Ron and Harry run for the nearest bathroom to vomit. "What type of show should we make? Any suggestions?"
Crabbe nodded sharply, sniffing hard.. He was always doing that these days.. Sniffing like that, as if he had something in his nose that might fall out if he didn't. Heh. Maybe he did. Who knew? "Sir, what if we do a romantic battery? My mum likes those."
Draco let out a long, cold, Draco-style laugh. "For one thing, my dear Vincent, it's 'comedy', not 'battery'. You numbskull. And, I know, I would be the star, but who would be the woman I was so ensnared with? There isn't a witch worth it in this whole damn school." He turned to look wistfully at Hermione with great longing.. Not any witch worth it, but there is a filthy mudblood.. Oh, mudblood! Muggle-born girl with the full brown curls, I long for you so! Mudblood, mudblood! Wherefore art thou a mudblood?! Deny both your father and your mother and refuse your name! But what's in a name? For a Malfoy, by any other name, would be as cruel! Oh, rapture! Oh, love! How I long for you, you filthy, disgusting, studious mudblood, you!!
"DRACO HONEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY! Teehee! I'll be your person!! You can be ensnared with ME!" Pansy giggled, waving frantically at him. "Draco! Draco honeyyyyy? What are you looking over there for?! Look at MEEEEEEE!!"
Draco was brought out of his poetic stupor by the giggling, snorting, whining Pansy. . . He mentally cursed. Why couldn't Hermione be in his fanclub?! Every Slytherin girl was all over him.. Oh well, he had to live in the present now. What to do for the television show?.. "No, sorry Crabbe, no romantic comedy. Goyle? Any.. brilliant ideas.. on your part?"
Goyle blinked a bit. He was suffering from a serious toungue burn, and was communicating with grunts.. As if he ever communicated with anything else. "Ugh ugh uggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ugh ugh."
Draco would nod slowly, smiling cruely. "Brilliance, Gregory! I am nothing short of flabbergasted! You have actually made an intelligent suggestion! And I will use it, too!" He turned to Crabbe. "Crabbe, why can't you be more like Gregory?! He suggested a news show. Isn't he brilliant?! He's damn brilliant. You need to shape up, Crabbe, you fool. Ask him to teach you a thing or two! Why can't you ever be more like Gregory Goyle?!"
Tears had welled up in poor Vincent Crabbe's eyes by now -- he was going through puberty, and was quite sensitive -- and he ran off, sobbing. Pansy looked at Draco like he'd just slapped her -- Pansy had, although she didn't know it yet, an incredibly heavy crush on Vincent, possibly to rival her lust for Draco -- and ran off after him. Goyle beamed with pride. Draco quickly scribbled a memo to all of the other Slytherins, telling them to vote for a news show, which, of course, they would all follow unquestioningly. He would then have gone back to gazing wistfully at his beautiful mudblood love, but, alas, she was gazing with the same expression in his direction. Draco assumed she was staring at the poster advertising for the book fair behind him.
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The next day, in Potions, Severus (who had taken to, er, dressing in frilly pink lace, because his darling Minerva said she thought it was sexy) walked in, beaming at the class rather than sneering.. Mostly because McGonagall had turned up in the back rom to see what he was doing that had all the students "so excited". He cleared his throat. "Okay, darling little children! Now I want you all to be very good. We have a special visitor watching us today -- let's all make your Transfiguration teacher feel comfortable! Now for the vote. How many of you adorable little kiddies have an idea? Who'd like to go first? Any volounteers? Hmm?"
Draco and Harry's hands both shot up in unison, and, Snape, for once, picked Harry. He was, of course, just trying to win the Gryffindor Headmistress' favor. "Yes, Potter? What's your cutie-wootie suggestion?"
Harry -- not to mention the rest of the students -- just kind of .. stared .. Since when in the (in Ron's case, "bloody") hell did Snape say "cutie-wootie"...?... I mean, dear god... When they'd snapped out of it, Harry spoke. "Proffessor, I propose we do a news broadcast."
Snape nodded slowly, then smiled, clapping his hands together in happiness. "I think that's a GOOD IDEA, Potter. How many of you vote for that?" Every Gryffindor hand raised. He nodded once more. "Okay then, class. Malfoy? What do you want to add?"
Draco smiled his sleek, Malfoy-family-smile, and cleared his throat. "Proffessor, I propose we do a news broadcast." Draco's spoke in the exact same tone the exact same words that had come from the mouth of his rival, and every Slytherin hand raised. Once the Gryffindors realized what he'd said, they, too, raised their hands.
Severus nodded. "Okay then! That settles it! While only half the class is in favor of Potter's idea, the whole class is in favor of Malfoy's! I agree that a new broadcast will be much, much better than that dinky news broadcast idea of Potter's. Good thinking, Draco."
Draco looked over at Harry and smirked. Harry just sat there, dumbfounded... He'd had the same ideas! Damn those Slytherins, they were too stupid to realize that he'd had the same idea as Draco, and therefore Draco got all of the credit! He leaned over, nuzzling Ron's shoulder, looking for comfort. Ron shrugged Harry off, muttering something.. Most likely "bloody hell".
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After Potions was dismissed, it was time for bed, and Draco followed his crush down the hall a ways until they were about at the fat lady's picture, where Hermione promptly turned to him, trying to hide a blush. "Draco, I believe the Slytherin quarters are over there... This is for Gryffindors... Remember?"
Draco dropped down upon one knee, taking Hermione by the hand and looking up lovingly into her face. "Hermione Granger... Let me just tell you this! .. You are .." He stopped, regaining his senses. What if, god forbid, Lavender were close by? Or even worse! Potter! He was the worst of the gosspiers... If he did this, it would be all over the school and all over his reputation within a day. So he stood, tossing her hand down in disgust. "You are the most horrible, filthy mudblood in the school!" He ran a few steps away, then turned back, looking at her with apology and love in his eyes, then ran the rest of the way to his huge bed in the boy's dorm, and cried himself to sleep like a little girl.
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Hermione watched as Draco ran away, then ran to her own room and cried HERself to sleep like a little girl.. Although that was slightly more excusable.. since she WAS a girl..
Of course, Harry was in the boy's dorm, crying like a little girl, too. Hermione could hear it from her room... And she could hear Ron, too, yelling at the top of his lungs, "BLOODY HELL, HARRY! I'M NOT A BLOODY HOMOSEXUAL! YOU CAN'T BLOODY FORCE YOURSELF ON ME, AND I DON'T BLOODY LIKE YOU THAT BLOODY WAY, YOU BLOODY DESPERATE BITCH!" More crying from Harry.
Hermione sniffled. At least she wasn't the ONLY one who was suffering from rejection tonight...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning was the first day of the news broadcast.
TO BE CONTINUED.....
A/N --
SO! That took me sooooo long. x_x. What do you guys think?