Hello all!! This is my first fanfic, in any genre. Be gentle, but please
read and review- constructive criticism is welcome. Enjoy.
By the way, I OWN NOTHING!! I'm a poor little o' college student, with a max of $20 at a given time, so obviously, I'm not making any money off of anything. R&R, ~Gelsey~
Ch. 1 When Shopping Goes Bad
Hermione Granger was bored. Utterly, devastatingly bored. So bored that she did the Unthinkable-she went shopping. That's right–she packed up her purse, fed Crookshanks, got in her new car-a convertible her parents had given her for her 17th birthday–and went zooming off to the nearest mall.
So far, the excursion wasn't going all that badly-she had found herself a new pair of shoes, and had just finished purchasing a new sweater when she heard a disturbance outside of the store. She peeked threw the window and gasped.
*No, it can't be. Not Deatheaters, not here,* she thought, her eyes widening and heart pounding as fear and horror shot through her. True to her Gryffindor nature, however, she started to pull her wand from her sleeve, where she had kept it constantly since returning home.
The sight of a white-blonde head stopped her where she stood preparing to join the fray. *Draco Malfoy* she thought, surprised. The surprise had nothing at all to do with him being near the Deatheaters, however. It had everything to do with the fact that he was running away from said Deatheaters. The sight of him with a look of fear on his face and *was that resignation in his eyes?*
It was a look she was sure no one had ever expected to see on his face, and it was that look that spurred her into action.
She burst out of the store, an aura of power around her. Before anyone had even finished turning around to see who had come bursting out, she had fired off three curses and a hex. Two Deatheaters went down immediately and several of their companions were blown across the hall and into a store–via the glass windows.
In the ensuing confusions in which the Muggles began screaming even louder and a few store alarms went off, Hermione reached Draco and had grabbed his wrist. He whirled around, ready to strike her, but refrained when he saw who she was. "Granger!" he whispered, voice hoarse and low with disbelief- and fear.
"We have to get out of here," Hermione said in a low voice. "This way . . ." she pulled him so that they were relatively hidden in a small alcove-at least, for the moment. "What the bloody hell is going on, Malfoy?"
"They're after me," he said dully, no emotion evident in either his voice or his face.
"No shit, Sherlock," Hermione snarled, enough sarcasm in her voice to make Snape proud.
He straightened up and glared at her with a spark of anger in his eyes, which was replaced with a look of confusion when she said, "There now, that's better."
He looked at her and opened his mouth. "What's bet-"
"I can't have you shutting down like that-not now. Get out your wand, we need to fight our way out of here."
"I can't," he said, despair lacing his voice. "They. . . they broke my wand." Answering her question before it was even given voice, he continued, "I refused them-I wouldn't join."
An emotion that he never expected to see sent his way, especially from her, appeared in her eyes. She touched his arm and said simply, "I'm proud of you, Draco." At his expression of incredulity, she leaned closer to him and said earnestly, "I knew you would-now Harry and Ron each owe me 5 galleons." Mischief colored her voice, and he let out a snort of surprise and amusement. They shared a grin even as the Deatheaters started searching for them. Their conversation had barely taken a minute.
The smile slid off Hermione's face, however, as she reached up her other sleeve and pulled out another wand. "I bought a second one, a week ago, just in case. I don't know how effective it will be, but it's better than nothing," she explained and handed it to him.
Draco opened his mouth to thank her, but shut it when they heard a Deatheater's voice a couple of feet away. Hermione leaned across him, took careful aim, and whispered, "Stupefy."
Avery–for Draco knew it was Avery *the bastard*–flew across the hall and crashed into the wall with a crack. A second look showed Avery's lifeless eyes peering towards the ceiling through the silver mask. Draco glanced at Hermione, only to see her eyes full of horror at what she had just done. "Hermione, this is war; things happen in war." His eyes hardened, "And it's better than the bastard deserved, anyway."
She nodded, and pushed the horror aside-for now. She knew that it would come back even stronger, though, when this was all over.
"Good girl," Draco said softly. "Now, how do we get out of here."
She didn't answer, but transferred her wand to her left hand, and laced her right with his left. She then stood, pulling him up, and, after glancing at him briefly, they broke from their cover. Several Deatheaters fired curses at them, but they dodged them without letting go of eachother, and shot thier own in retaliation.
Later, reflecting back on it all, she could not say what spells she used, or how she managed to get them to the parking lot relatively unscathed. She did remember the Deatheaters closing in on them, pushing them into a corner. "What do we do now?" Draco asked, his mouth going dry once more.
Her eyes darted all around. One Deatheater saw this and said evilly, "There is no way you're getting away, little girl." She backed away when Draco would have advanced forward to take a last stand.
"There is one more thing I can try," she whispered, barely audible, barely moving her lips. "But . . . it could go horribly wrong."
"Worse that death at thier hands?" Draco whispered back, with a hint of the old Malfoy drawl back in his voice. When she didn't answer, he said, "Do it."
She moved even closer to him and clutched him tighter, chanting something under her breath. Draco leaned his head towards her, and heard her sayng, "Don't let me splinch us, don't let me splinch us . . ."
He only had time to feel an extra surge of fear, and then everything swirled and pain ruled his life, and the Deatheaters disappeared into the darkness before his eyes.
By the way, I OWN NOTHING!! I'm a poor little o' college student, with a max of $20 at a given time, so obviously, I'm not making any money off of anything. R&R, ~Gelsey~
Ch. 1 When Shopping Goes Bad
Hermione Granger was bored. Utterly, devastatingly bored. So bored that she did the Unthinkable-she went shopping. That's right–she packed up her purse, fed Crookshanks, got in her new car-a convertible her parents had given her for her 17th birthday–and went zooming off to the nearest mall.
So far, the excursion wasn't going all that badly-she had found herself a new pair of shoes, and had just finished purchasing a new sweater when she heard a disturbance outside of the store. She peeked threw the window and gasped.
*No, it can't be. Not Deatheaters, not here,* she thought, her eyes widening and heart pounding as fear and horror shot through her. True to her Gryffindor nature, however, she started to pull her wand from her sleeve, where she had kept it constantly since returning home.
The sight of a white-blonde head stopped her where she stood preparing to join the fray. *Draco Malfoy* she thought, surprised. The surprise had nothing at all to do with him being near the Deatheaters, however. It had everything to do with the fact that he was running away from said Deatheaters. The sight of him with a look of fear on his face and *was that resignation in his eyes?*
It was a look she was sure no one had ever expected to see on his face, and it was that look that spurred her into action.
She burst out of the store, an aura of power around her. Before anyone had even finished turning around to see who had come bursting out, she had fired off three curses and a hex. Two Deatheaters went down immediately and several of their companions were blown across the hall and into a store–via the glass windows.
In the ensuing confusions in which the Muggles began screaming even louder and a few store alarms went off, Hermione reached Draco and had grabbed his wrist. He whirled around, ready to strike her, but refrained when he saw who she was. "Granger!" he whispered, voice hoarse and low with disbelief- and fear.
"We have to get out of here," Hermione said in a low voice. "This way . . ." she pulled him so that they were relatively hidden in a small alcove-at least, for the moment. "What the bloody hell is going on, Malfoy?"
"They're after me," he said dully, no emotion evident in either his voice or his face.
"No shit, Sherlock," Hermione snarled, enough sarcasm in her voice to make Snape proud.
He straightened up and glared at her with a spark of anger in his eyes, which was replaced with a look of confusion when she said, "There now, that's better."
He looked at her and opened his mouth. "What's bet-"
"I can't have you shutting down like that-not now. Get out your wand, we need to fight our way out of here."
"I can't," he said, despair lacing his voice. "They. . . they broke my wand." Answering her question before it was even given voice, he continued, "I refused them-I wouldn't join."
An emotion that he never expected to see sent his way, especially from her, appeared in her eyes. She touched his arm and said simply, "I'm proud of you, Draco." At his expression of incredulity, she leaned closer to him and said earnestly, "I knew you would-now Harry and Ron each owe me 5 galleons." Mischief colored her voice, and he let out a snort of surprise and amusement. They shared a grin even as the Deatheaters started searching for them. Their conversation had barely taken a minute.
The smile slid off Hermione's face, however, as she reached up her other sleeve and pulled out another wand. "I bought a second one, a week ago, just in case. I don't know how effective it will be, but it's better than nothing," she explained and handed it to him.
Draco opened his mouth to thank her, but shut it when they heard a Deatheater's voice a couple of feet away. Hermione leaned across him, took careful aim, and whispered, "Stupefy."
Avery–for Draco knew it was Avery *the bastard*–flew across the hall and crashed into the wall with a crack. A second look showed Avery's lifeless eyes peering towards the ceiling through the silver mask. Draco glanced at Hermione, only to see her eyes full of horror at what she had just done. "Hermione, this is war; things happen in war." His eyes hardened, "And it's better than the bastard deserved, anyway."
She nodded, and pushed the horror aside-for now. She knew that it would come back even stronger, though, when this was all over.
"Good girl," Draco said softly. "Now, how do we get out of here."
She didn't answer, but transferred her wand to her left hand, and laced her right with his left. She then stood, pulling him up, and, after glancing at him briefly, they broke from their cover. Several Deatheaters fired curses at them, but they dodged them without letting go of eachother, and shot thier own in retaliation.
Later, reflecting back on it all, she could not say what spells she used, or how she managed to get them to the parking lot relatively unscathed. She did remember the Deatheaters closing in on them, pushing them into a corner. "What do we do now?" Draco asked, his mouth going dry once more.
Her eyes darted all around. One Deatheater saw this and said evilly, "There is no way you're getting away, little girl." She backed away when Draco would have advanced forward to take a last stand.
"There is one more thing I can try," she whispered, barely audible, barely moving her lips. "But . . . it could go horribly wrong."
"Worse that death at thier hands?" Draco whispered back, with a hint of the old Malfoy drawl back in his voice. When she didn't answer, he said, "Do it."
She moved even closer to him and clutched him tighter, chanting something under her breath. Draco leaned his head towards her, and heard her sayng, "Don't let me splinch us, don't let me splinch us . . ."
He only had time to feel an extra surge of fear, and then everything swirled and pain ruled his life, and the Deatheaters disappeared into the darkness before his eyes.