Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K Rowling. I am not J.K Rowling.
Happy?
Author's Note: Just explaining, *** *** *** means change of character, and * * * means change of time. Oh, and rated about M for language. Plus set in 6th Year.
"Forbidden"
Chapter 1
"- and by thunder boy, you'll be watching yourself or you won't see your next birthday! Do you understand?!"
Draco Malfoy stared sullenly at his father. God only knew what he'd done this time, it could be anything. All he klnew for sure was that it involved a Mudblood. But that could have ranged from buying anything to looking at one the wrong way.
Something made Draco angry and restless. "You can't stop me!" he shouted, before running to his room. He stormed up the Manor stairs, shutting his door just as something riccochaid off it. He grimaced. Now this was serious. His father had never attempted to curse him before.
He still felt reckless, but he wasn't angry anymore; he was furious. He was just a touch unseasy as well. But at the moment all he wanted to do was anger his father so much that Malfoy Snr. would just - just explode. Actually, stuff that. He wanted the whole WORLD mad at him. He wanted to stand up in front of them all and scream, "Look at me, you morons! I am my own freaking person, not the son of the best Death Eater or the head of the Slytherins! Look at me, you bastards!"
How could he make the whole world sit up and notice? He smiled thinly. Who cared? As long as his father forbade it, and the "good" side forbade it, it could work. His smile changed to a frown as he thought. Something forbidden . . .
*** *** ***
Hermione sat in her armchair, a book in her lap. She wasn't looking at it currently, she was staring into space.
Her room was in irregular chaos. Her spellbooks were stacked untidily by her trunk, and her robes were draped accross the foot of her bed. She'd been attempting to pack when she'd run across the old book in her cupboard. It wasn't a real book, just a silly little notebook she'd scribbled in during her First Year. She'd filled it with bits of poetry and proverbs:
'Don't frown, you never know who is falling in love with your smile -'
'How do I love thee? Let me count the ways -"
'Absence makes the heart grow fonder -'
Yeah, Hermione thought. Familiarity breeds contempt? No way. She sighed. Ron.
She'd only bowed to the inevitable sparks of attraction between them a few months ago. It had felt like a part of her was returning, a prrt she had never known existed. Oh, god. Now she was getting sappy. Help!
Luckily, perhaps, her thoughts were interuppted by a knock at the door. "Come in," she managed.
"Hermione, get the door honey. My hands are full." Mrs. Granger's voice came from outside her room. Hermione jumped up obidiently to let her mother in. Mrs. Granger came through the door with two cups of hot chocolate, most probably sugar free.
"Thought you might want a drink and some company," she said, taking in the jumbled belongings around her daughter's school trunk. "Shouldn't you have packed?"
"Oh - yes," Hermione replied, taking the offered mug of chocolate. "But I'm just - distracted."
"Missing Ron?" her mother asked gently. Hermione nodded slowly. "But you'll see him tomorrow."
"I know. But I wasn't expecting him not to be home at all. I knew Harry was staying all holidays, and that Ron was spending the first month away, but I had no idea he'd change his plans and go to school early. By the time I got his owl, the Hogwarts Express had already left. I wish I'd known it went two weeks early for school Prefects."
"Well, you can't blame him. Harry is like a brother to him. And after seeing that brother of his in Romania, what was it - Chuckie?"
"Charlie," Hermione corrected. "Works with dragons." She sipped her drink. Then she jumped up guiltily as her mother moved and started packing her trunk. "Oh, mum, don't. I should be doing that."
"You should," her mother agreed, carefully packing Hermione's robes on top of her books. "But right now I want you to brush your teeth and go to bed. You'll be late tomorrow otherwise, and I know you'll just hate that."
Hermione stuck her tongue out at her mother but laughed. It was true, she reflected as she made her way to the bathroom. I would hate that.
* * *
Draco sat moodily on the train as it neared Hogsmeade. Crabbe and Goyle had been rejected just after they left London, because their personalities were about as lively as a rock's and all they could talk about were the Dark Circles they'd attended with their fathers. And Pansy - ugh. She had a face like a pug dog and thought everything he did was just wonderful. Normally he enjoyed their attention. Now he needed to be alone.
He hiked up the collar of his jumper. He didn't want anyone to see the bruises. His father had taken him aside at Kings Cross just before Disapparating and murmured, "I'm warning you now, remember boy. . ." squeezing Draco where his shoulder joined his neck, making him wince with pain. Now there was the evidence to show his father despised him. And he was ashamed. Why did his father despise him? Was it because he wasn't evil enough?
He jumped up and decided to do the one thing that made him truly happy. Irritating Potter, Weasley, and Granger.
The compartment door slammed as he took out his bad temper on it.
*** *** ***
Hermione was deeply immersed in The Standard Book of Spells, grade 5, when she became aware of someone at the doorway. She was sitting by herself, moping about not seeing Ron until dinner. Furious to have her bad mood captured, she loked up angrily.
"What do you - oh," she said, her voice changing to loathing and disgust. "What do you want, Malfoy."
"Been rejected?" he asked sneeringly. "Potty and Weasel too good for little Mudblood Granger? Not surprised. Nasty things, bookworms. Wouldn't go near one myself."
"I'm warning you -"
"Poor little Mudblood with no friends. Well, I'm warning you. Now you'll start to pay for that insult in fourth year!" he jeered. Oh, that did it. Hermione jumped up and took out her wand.
"Fuck off!" she screamed. "I've had it up to here with you! Get the hell away from me!" She snapped. Before he got any warning, she'd cast her spell.
"Impedimenta!" Malfoy froze. She kicked him out into the corridor a few metres away from her compartment, adding a couple to the family jewels for the sake of spite. Good, hard ones to. Hope it hurts when he wakes up, she smirked. She strode away without a backward glance.
* * *
Malfoy was fine by the Welcoming Feast. He kept shooting Granger funny looks, as if shocked that she'd dare to curse him - again. He'd given her fair warning. And his - his - things still hurt to. She'd obviously kicked him there a couple of times. He tried to concentrate on Dumbledore's voice. But things you don't like - like things you're not interested in - are hard to listen to. He gave up and continued eating his chocolate pudding. He could see Granger was shooting him a few looks, some intermingled with horror. Well, that was good, he thought grimly. She would pay for that one - and the one they'd all been in on at the end of fourth year. How dare she?!
Well, she'd be the first to pay when the whole world sat up to take notice. Noticing everyone else leave the Slytherin table, he got up to - but didn't head for the dungeons with his peers. He turned left and headed up a staircase - the one that led to the library, and, though he didn't know it, the Gryffindor common room.
Passing the library, he found what he wanted: a deserted classroom. He'd found it last year, when he had to get away from the stifling atmosphere of the Slytherins. He could just sit there, and brood into the fire. He lit it now, watching the flames crackle up. He sat down in front and made shapes. People. A guy of some sort, animals like dogs, and a girl with long flame hair. He became entranced after a few mintues, and leaned closer, forgetting everything.
*** *** ***
Ron hadn't been at dinner! Hermione raced up seven sets of stairs to reach the Gryffindor common room. She paused for a few seconds to check her hair in the mirror, and satisfied, she went up to the boys dorms. She was just about to know when she heard their voices, deep in serious discussion by the sounds of things. She leaned closer.
"Anyway, Charlie took me to about twenty clubs over the holidays," Ron was saying. "But the best part about Romania, well you can guess."
"You can have alcohol at your age!" Seamus yelled.
"The food," Neville said.
"Oh, give up all of you. I'll tell you. All the gorgeous Romanian chicks, just dying to get with you. I don't know how many I hooked up with," Ron boasted. Hermione felt as if someone had just doused her with icy water. He hadn't!
"He did," Harry said. "Which is so not fair to Hermione..." There was a general sound of agreement.
"You have to tell her, ron," Dean said angrily.
"I can't!" Ron burst out. "She'll drop me like a brick."
"You deserve it," Neville said grimly. "Tell her."
Hermione had had enough. "no need," she sang out, walktzing into the room. She stared at Ron. "Please," she whispered painfully. "Tell me it isn't true."
Ron looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I can't," he muttered. Hermione stared for a second, then turned. She forgot about everything except how to make her legs work. She ranout of the portrait hole, not heeding the Fat Lady's call as she dashed the tears away.
Damn him! The bastard! Oh, all guys were the same. She stoppped suddenly, bewildered. She was in some part of the school she'd never entered. She found what looked like a disused classroom and went in. There was a fire in the grate. Surprising. But, oh no...
The person in front of the fire, staring with anger and menace and surprise and fear. The last person she expected or wanted to see. Malfoy.
"Oh, shit!" she cried dazedly.
Author's Note: Reviews are most welcome and appreciated. =P
Author's Note: Just explaining, *** *** *** means change of character, and * * * means change of time. Oh, and rated about M for language. Plus set in 6th Year.
"Forbidden"
Chapter 1
"- and by thunder boy, you'll be watching yourself or you won't see your next birthday! Do you understand?!"
Draco Malfoy stared sullenly at his father. God only knew what he'd done this time, it could be anything. All he klnew for sure was that it involved a Mudblood. But that could have ranged from buying anything to looking at one the wrong way.
Something made Draco angry and restless. "You can't stop me!" he shouted, before running to his room. He stormed up the Manor stairs, shutting his door just as something riccochaid off it. He grimaced. Now this was serious. His father had never attempted to curse him before.
He still felt reckless, but he wasn't angry anymore; he was furious. He was just a touch unseasy as well. But at the moment all he wanted to do was anger his father so much that Malfoy Snr. would just - just explode. Actually, stuff that. He wanted the whole WORLD mad at him. He wanted to stand up in front of them all and scream, "Look at me, you morons! I am my own freaking person, not the son of the best Death Eater or the head of the Slytherins! Look at me, you bastards!"
How could he make the whole world sit up and notice? He smiled thinly. Who cared? As long as his father forbade it, and the "good" side forbade it, it could work. His smile changed to a frown as he thought. Something forbidden . . .
*** *** ***
Hermione sat in her armchair, a book in her lap. She wasn't looking at it currently, she was staring into space.
Her room was in irregular chaos. Her spellbooks were stacked untidily by her trunk, and her robes were draped accross the foot of her bed. She'd been attempting to pack when she'd run across the old book in her cupboard. It wasn't a real book, just a silly little notebook she'd scribbled in during her First Year. She'd filled it with bits of poetry and proverbs:
'Don't frown, you never know who is falling in love with your smile -'
'How do I love thee? Let me count the ways -"
'Absence makes the heart grow fonder -'
Yeah, Hermione thought. Familiarity breeds contempt? No way. She sighed. Ron.
She'd only bowed to the inevitable sparks of attraction between them a few months ago. It had felt like a part of her was returning, a prrt she had never known existed. Oh, god. Now she was getting sappy. Help!
Luckily, perhaps, her thoughts were interuppted by a knock at the door. "Come in," she managed.
"Hermione, get the door honey. My hands are full." Mrs. Granger's voice came from outside her room. Hermione jumped up obidiently to let her mother in. Mrs. Granger came through the door with two cups of hot chocolate, most probably sugar free.
"Thought you might want a drink and some company," she said, taking in the jumbled belongings around her daughter's school trunk. "Shouldn't you have packed?"
"Oh - yes," Hermione replied, taking the offered mug of chocolate. "But I'm just - distracted."
"Missing Ron?" her mother asked gently. Hermione nodded slowly. "But you'll see him tomorrow."
"I know. But I wasn't expecting him not to be home at all. I knew Harry was staying all holidays, and that Ron was spending the first month away, but I had no idea he'd change his plans and go to school early. By the time I got his owl, the Hogwarts Express had already left. I wish I'd known it went two weeks early for school Prefects."
"Well, you can't blame him. Harry is like a brother to him. And after seeing that brother of his in Romania, what was it - Chuckie?"
"Charlie," Hermione corrected. "Works with dragons." She sipped her drink. Then she jumped up guiltily as her mother moved and started packing her trunk. "Oh, mum, don't. I should be doing that."
"You should," her mother agreed, carefully packing Hermione's robes on top of her books. "But right now I want you to brush your teeth and go to bed. You'll be late tomorrow otherwise, and I know you'll just hate that."
Hermione stuck her tongue out at her mother but laughed. It was true, she reflected as she made her way to the bathroom. I would hate that.
* * *
Draco sat moodily on the train as it neared Hogsmeade. Crabbe and Goyle had been rejected just after they left London, because their personalities were about as lively as a rock's and all they could talk about were the Dark Circles they'd attended with their fathers. And Pansy - ugh. She had a face like a pug dog and thought everything he did was just wonderful. Normally he enjoyed their attention. Now he needed to be alone.
He hiked up the collar of his jumper. He didn't want anyone to see the bruises. His father had taken him aside at Kings Cross just before Disapparating and murmured, "I'm warning you now, remember boy. . ." squeezing Draco where his shoulder joined his neck, making him wince with pain. Now there was the evidence to show his father despised him. And he was ashamed. Why did his father despise him? Was it because he wasn't evil enough?
He jumped up and decided to do the one thing that made him truly happy. Irritating Potter, Weasley, and Granger.
The compartment door slammed as he took out his bad temper on it.
*** *** ***
Hermione was deeply immersed in The Standard Book of Spells, grade 5, when she became aware of someone at the doorway. She was sitting by herself, moping about not seeing Ron until dinner. Furious to have her bad mood captured, she loked up angrily.
"What do you - oh," she said, her voice changing to loathing and disgust. "What do you want, Malfoy."
"Been rejected?" he asked sneeringly. "Potty and Weasel too good for little Mudblood Granger? Not surprised. Nasty things, bookworms. Wouldn't go near one myself."
"I'm warning you -"
"Poor little Mudblood with no friends. Well, I'm warning you. Now you'll start to pay for that insult in fourth year!" he jeered. Oh, that did it. Hermione jumped up and took out her wand.
"Fuck off!" she screamed. "I've had it up to here with you! Get the hell away from me!" She snapped. Before he got any warning, she'd cast her spell.
"Impedimenta!" Malfoy froze. She kicked him out into the corridor a few metres away from her compartment, adding a couple to the family jewels for the sake of spite. Good, hard ones to. Hope it hurts when he wakes up, she smirked. She strode away without a backward glance.
* * *
Malfoy was fine by the Welcoming Feast. He kept shooting Granger funny looks, as if shocked that she'd dare to curse him - again. He'd given her fair warning. And his - his - things still hurt to. She'd obviously kicked him there a couple of times. He tried to concentrate on Dumbledore's voice. But things you don't like - like things you're not interested in - are hard to listen to. He gave up and continued eating his chocolate pudding. He could see Granger was shooting him a few looks, some intermingled with horror. Well, that was good, he thought grimly. She would pay for that one - and the one they'd all been in on at the end of fourth year. How dare she?!
Well, she'd be the first to pay when the whole world sat up to take notice. Noticing everyone else leave the Slytherin table, he got up to - but didn't head for the dungeons with his peers. He turned left and headed up a staircase - the one that led to the library, and, though he didn't know it, the Gryffindor common room.
Passing the library, he found what he wanted: a deserted classroom. He'd found it last year, when he had to get away from the stifling atmosphere of the Slytherins. He could just sit there, and brood into the fire. He lit it now, watching the flames crackle up. He sat down in front and made shapes. People. A guy of some sort, animals like dogs, and a girl with long flame hair. He became entranced after a few mintues, and leaned closer, forgetting everything.
*** *** ***
Ron hadn't been at dinner! Hermione raced up seven sets of stairs to reach the Gryffindor common room. She paused for a few seconds to check her hair in the mirror, and satisfied, she went up to the boys dorms. She was just about to know when she heard their voices, deep in serious discussion by the sounds of things. She leaned closer.
"Anyway, Charlie took me to about twenty clubs over the holidays," Ron was saying. "But the best part about Romania, well you can guess."
"You can have alcohol at your age!" Seamus yelled.
"The food," Neville said.
"Oh, give up all of you. I'll tell you. All the gorgeous Romanian chicks, just dying to get with you. I don't know how many I hooked up with," Ron boasted. Hermione felt as if someone had just doused her with icy water. He hadn't!
"He did," Harry said. "Which is so not fair to Hermione..." There was a general sound of agreement.
"You have to tell her, ron," Dean said angrily.
"I can't!" Ron burst out. "She'll drop me like a brick."
"You deserve it," Neville said grimly. "Tell her."
Hermione had had enough. "no need," she sang out, walktzing into the room. She stared at Ron. "Please," she whispered painfully. "Tell me it isn't true."
Ron looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I can't," he muttered. Hermione stared for a second, then turned. She forgot about everything except how to make her legs work. She ranout of the portrait hole, not heeding the Fat Lady's call as she dashed the tears away.
Damn him! The bastard! Oh, all guys were the same. She stoppped suddenly, bewildered. She was in some part of the school she'd never entered. She found what looked like a disused classroom and went in. There was a fire in the grate. Surprising. But, oh no...
The person in front of the fire, staring with anger and menace and surprise and fear. The last person she expected or wanted to see. Malfoy.
"Oh, shit!" she cried dazedly.
Author's Note: Reviews are most welcome and appreciated. =P