The Murder of Hermione Granger
Summary--Victim: Hermione Granger. Date of Death: March 3, 2003. Person of Interest: Draco Malfoy. Follow Draco as he tries to clear his name for a crime he didn't commit and to figure out the clues in finding out if it was suicide or cold blood murder. D/HR
Disclaimer: Don't Own Harry Potter. If I did, I'd probably be out writing the 7th book. :P If I were her.
Hermione heard footsteps in the kitchen and let out a sigh of relief. She was really starting to get worried.
"Draco?" Hermione called out tentatively.
"Guess again, bitch!"
She screamed.
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Hermione Granger, age 23, died on Monday. Funeral and services will be determined after studies and tests have been confirmed. The cause of death is, as of yet, unknown, but experts say homicide. Investigations are going underway and the prime suspect is rumored to be none other than Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater and Granger's rival at Hogwarts.
Finishing at the top of her class at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she interned at a much sought after position at St. Mungos. Succeeding at that, she promptly went to work as one of the most brilliant Healers today...
"Blah blah blah," Draco mumbled as he crushed the Daily Prophet in his hand while he straightened the tie on his suit. He turned to the spilt bloodshed on the couch. He would not cry, damnit, he just couldn't. He couldn't bear to clean it up and the bastards who took her body away didn't do anything either. He would not do such a thing. No one should have to do this, they shouldn't have to clean up their wife's blood after she died! Hermione was gone and he had no one. No one!
"I don't even have a pet rat!" he ranted, clearly having gone mad. Who, in their right mind, would murder such a kind and generous spirit? She was fucking pregnant for God's sake. Five months along. They finally achieved the one thing they were hoping for and they were ecstatic. They were trying to have a baby for a year.
The only thing that made it worse was that, of course, Draco was the number one suspect. Harry and Ron were quick in stating that, in fact, Draco and Hermione used to be sworn enemies. Nevermind that they've been married for almost three years. Draco scoffed. They never did approve of the relationship, in fact, they refused, point blank, to meet with Hermione while Draco was present.
"Bastards," he muttered. Being the supportive husband that he was, he told her to visit them whenever she wished. She always protested stating that they should get used to her being in a relationship with him because Draco wasn't going anywhere, but Draco always insisted. He, for the most part, was usually nearby during the whole affair. Just in case they tried any funny business of kidnapping her, or something outrageous like that. They did always remind Hermione of his cruelty in the past and any other cockshit lies they cooked up for that luncheon. Draco laughed at his obviously retarded pun. Plus, in his humble opinion, Potter and Weasley were cracked in the head. He was getting delirious. He was just glad Hermione always brushed it off, knowing that he did change. Got to mature sometime, although Potty and Weasel did not.
Draco signed. The only reason why he wasn't in Azkaban at this very moment was because of the Malfoy name, and even then it was wearing thin, especially with Harry and Ron, the Devil children, on the loose. The Boy Who Wouldn't Die and that carrot top shadow of his.
He smoothed out the crumbled newspaper onto his desk.
"Hermione Granger," he read, "they didn't even have the correct effing name. "It was and is Hermione Malfoy," he spat.
Quite suddenly he flung the offending material across the room and watched as it slammed against the bookshelf, falling to the floor loudly, taking some books down with it. The damage did nothing to assuage his pain.
Draco was never one to cry, not after that horrid year when he was 16-years-old and forced into being Voldemort's bitch because of his moron of a father, but now as he looked bemoaningly at the picture of him and Hermione in front of their vacation home, tears fell at a rapid rate onto his lap.
Sorry it's so short, but it's only the prologue.
Please Review. Whether you liked it or didn't like it. Constructive criticism please. Thanks!
Tizzy.