Hey guys! I am starting a new fanfiction with my friend Amelia (she's not on fanfiction). This is a Harry Potter fanfiction, the ship is Dramione. Next is an AN from Amelia.
Hello! My name is Amelia Jane, I am co-writing this fanfic with booksforbreakfast. The ship is on Dramione. This is my first fan fiction I have ever written. We will be doing each chapter in different perspectives of Draco and Hermione. Hermione is starting, and I will always be writing in her perspective. I hope you guys enjoy it! Please review, tell me how I am doing and how I can improve. Thank you so much! If you have any questions just review and I will respond as soon as I can! Here it is...
Disclaimer: This is going to be the first and last disclaimer so you can just read straight to the story. J.K. Rowling gets everything. All we do is just put different characters she creates with her beautiful mind and put them together in peculiar situations. Mrs. Rowling gets all the money and credit.
Hermione Granger's hands were shaking, her heart beating fast in her throat. Brightest witch of my class, influential in the defeat of Voldemort, she thought, and the thing scaring me out of my wits is a bunch of nine-year-olds. This was her first time back in the wizarding world, teaching a group of young students magic. After the war, Hermione was swamped with press and inquires. She ran from magic for a while, trying to live in the muggle world, but she was uncomfortable there, and moved to wizarding Stockholm, were she reasoned she could be close to magic, but still far enough away from the past. The brown-eyed witch knew as soon as she had settled in that she would be extremely happy there. Hermione had lost touch with Harry over the years, wanting to fix the damage that the war had raged alone. She and Ron had broken it off before she left, he yelling that she was too distant. Needless to say, they didn't talk. Hermione didn't like to think about that though. She loved, however, thinking about her new job. She had a class of twelve eight to nine year olds, and she was required to teach them wrist movements and magic theory until after Christmas when she could teach a few spells. The wizard schooling system was different in Sweden, but it fascinated the teacher nonetheless.
Hermione was sitting down to her desk to plan lessons for the week when she heard a small noise from her classroom door. When she looks up she sees a small boy with a nervous smile on his face.
"Good morning Ms. Granger. My name is Seaton. Sorry I am here so early, but my dad had to go to work. I hope it's okay if I stay till class starts?"
"Of course dear," Hermione said kindly, smiling at the dark-haired boy. "But would you mind helping me with a little something today? Parents brought in supplies for you guys, do you think you could separate them into these buckets here?" She pointed to the many colored buckets that sat on a small table near the front of the class.
"Sure Ms. Granger!" Seaton replied smiling, glad to have something to do. He began the small task. Now, teachers are never supposed to have favorites or so people think, but Hermione knew that he would be her favorite and the rest of the children were not even there yet.
Hermione turned back to her work. After a (seemingly) short moment, a bell broke through her thoughts. That seemed to happen more than she'd like to admit. Hermione constantly thought of the past and how it affected her present and what she could change to make the future brighter.
A crowd of excited year three students come rumbling into her clean room. There were 11- Seaton was still in the corner putting markers into bins, completely ignoring the other children- new minds ready to be filled after the holiday.
Once all her students were seated, Hermione started on the first day rituals.
"Good morning class! My name is Ms. Granger. I will be your teacher this year! I am so excited to have all of you here and I think we will have loads of fun learning and exploring magic. I have a few questions for all of you that I will be answering myself. Could you do that for me?"
A chorus of yes's followed Hermione's well performed script. They did silly games and introductions- ones that helped Hermione learn their names- the entire day, only interrupted by lunch (made by house elves which reminded her to talk to the principal later). The perfect day ended with only a few small problems that ended in a quick 3 minutes, and all the children were packing up and heading towards the courtyard for their parents to pick them up. Hermione stood outside, saying goodbye to students and parents, meeting people, when she saw a small glimmer. Hermione stepped into the shade of a tall tree, looking at a shock of super light blonde hair. It can't be. No way. The ferret can't be HERE, she thought, shaking her head. My eyes must be playing tricks on me. Hermione walked inside, trying to convince herself that they are in Sweden for God's sake, and there are tons of blonde people here.
But what if it is Malfoy? Her mind pestered. Logic tries to win. Malfoy would never be in Sweden. Ever. Besides, what did he have to run from? Even if the Death Eaters did lose the war, he had an enormous house and a fortune of billions to go back to. But just thinking about Malfoy made goose pimples pop up on her skin. The torture that she endured in that house. Hermione pulled up her left sleeve, glaring at the word that was carved into her skin. Mudblood. Why were people like Malfoy unmarked from the war? She had seen so much, such horrible things, death, destruction, things that would never leave her dreams.
Hermione packed her papers and plans into her bag, and was just about to leave when she heard a knock at her door.
There it is folks! Please review, and check out my other Divergent, Percy Jackson, and Hunger Games fanfictions!