HARRY POTTER AND THE GIRL DILEMMA
Chapter #1
The Love Dragon
Can Malfoys really fall in LOVE? This one obviously can.
Draco Malfoy was bored, bored, bored, and bored. His father's Dark Arts stuff
was starting to get boring, swotting up for next term was boring before he even
started, and most of all, the thing that bored him most was his father's
lectures when Draco suggested to his father that life at Malfoy Manor was less
than exciting.
Lucius Malfoy was preoccupied with a new case at the Ministry of Magic, so he
sent a servant to order up the Weird Sisters to play in the gardens of the
manor. The familiar music got Draco up and dancing but abruptly he sat back
down.
How do you talk to a teenage wizard? Lucius asked himself. Most likely he was
starting to get interested in- well, girls- but Lucius liked to avoid those
subjects on account of Lord Voldemort. He was not very happy with Lucius of
late.
He had delicately suggested that Lucius needed to get his son back into Death
Eater-shape.
"What is he, a Boggart?" Lucius joked. Instantly he regretted the line.
"He'd better change, and quickly," Voldemort replied sternly, none too amused.
Then his voice changed. He seemed to be crying inside. "I recognize in him an
emotion I did not know you could let him feel."
Lucius's face wore a pained expression.
"Yes. Love."
"But- but Malfoys don't fall in love."
"Well, that one does. With whom, I do not know. But I sense that it is not a
Slytherin."
Draco paced the room, thinking. What is it that's really wrong with me? I'm
supposed to be horrible and instead I'm turning into a real softie!
Then the thought entered his mind.
"A girl?" he asked himself, in disbelief, "Uh-uh. Forbidden territory."
Malfoys didn't fall in love. No way, no chance, not ever. They married for
power.
And instantly he knew who the girl that he liked was. She had the nerve to sass
him when he insulted her. She had the nerve to slap him when he insulted Hagrid.
The girl was Hermione Granger.
Draco reached under a tome about the Dark Arts for his diary.
Dipping his eagle-feather quill into his bottle of ink, he wrote:
Dear Diary,
I can't stop thinking about this girl I love her name is Hermione Granger.
Draco threw down his quill and muttered, "Hopeless. Absolutely, completely
berserk."
Then his face perked up at the thought. 'I'll send her a letter," he said to
himself. Once again he picked up the quill, opened his desk drawer and rustled
around for some dyed parchment. Then he remembered that he didn't usually
write nice letters to people (or embarrassing letters, he thought), so he had none.
He got up from his desk and picked up his wand. His family was excused from
underage wizardry laws. Draco would not get in trouble for using magic on the
holidays.
"Accio dyed parchment!" he cried. It came zooming up the stairs, through the
corridor, and into Draco's room. It landed on the bed. He picked it up and
opened it. He deliberated between a pretty lilac or rose pink. "The lilac," he
decided.
Picking up his quill, he dictated the words in his head and the quill zoomed
around on the parchment, then Draco signed his name.
Dear Hermione,
I can't stop thinking about you and I wish you were mine. Honestly? I think I
love you.
I'm not going to give you any clues yet (and don't you dare look at the bottom
of the parchment until you finish reading what I've got to say.
It's the oddest match I've ever heard of or thought of. I tried to stop myself
from hurting you with those insults I threw. I'm kind of glad you slapped me
because maybe I'm a better person for it.
I really and truly like you, Hermione. I can't help what my heart feels. I don't
care what Mum or Dad say because truly, I'm not like them.
Four years can matter, five can be infinity.
Remember.
Love always,
Draco Malfoy
Hesitating for a minute, he put the letter in an envelope with a charm. He had
magicked it from the air.
"A magic wand and instead of sparks, a heart," Draco smiled. Then he shut it and
ran down to the Owlery. He found his own owl and placed it between his talons.
"Make sure it gets to her safely, all right?" he whispered.
"Whoo, whoo," the owl said in response.
Hermione must not live far away from Malfoy Manor, Draco mused.
His owl had come back with a letter in his talons. But it was not the same envelope.
"Thanks, buddy," Draco said. Tucking the letter inside his robes, he ran
upstairs to his room. He closed the door, and sat on his four-poster.
Opening the letter, he pulled out a letter.
Dear Draco,
How do I begin?
I need you. To Ron, it looked like I wanted Harry all the time, but it's always
been you. You own my heart, and by the look of your letter, I own yours.
I am going to Diagon Alley tomorrow to buy my books for sixth year. Will we meet
in the Leaky Cauldron? I will be there at ten o'clock.
Don't bring your father.
Love, Hermione
She doesn't have to worry, Draco thought. He felt like... he was happy. Really,
truly, happy. Not the kind of happy he felt when he won something or managed to
cut people down to size. He was happy. Ecstatic, even.
"Yes, Hermione, we will meet in the Leaky Cauldron."
Later, after dinner, Draco approached his father.
"Father," he began. Lucius looked up and said,
"Draco, my boy!"
"Father, I am growing up and I believe that I am old enough to go to Diagon
Alley alone."
"Well, actually, I had been discussing with your mother that very thing. And we
have decided... that you may go alone from now on."
"Oh, thank you, Father!" said Draco.
"But we will want you back at six p.m tomorrow- so you can stay
overnight at the pub. Your mother- Narcissa, is giving a dinner party.
It begins at seven-thirty."
"Absolutely, Father."
"Good boy."
All night Draco tossed and turned, wanting to go to sleep but feeling deathly
impatient for the next day. Finally, he just stopped and went to sleep.
Next thing he knew, his curtains were opening and the sun was shining through.
He stumbled into his bathroom and washed his face and brushed his teeth.
Then he stood in front of his closet.
"The white shirt and the black jeans. As per bloody normal," he sighed. He
wanted to wear robes, but the Muggle world would pick up on it.
"Fine then, I'll take them in my bag."
He folded them and put them in his bag.
Hermione, like Draco, stood in front of her closet and deliberated outfit after
outfit. Finally she decided on jeans and a white shirt. Hesitating just a little
bit, she untucked it and unbuttoned the shirt so that a little of her stomach
showed. Then she slid her feet into pure white trainers, slipped a satchel over
her head and her purse into it, and reached for her straightening iron. Fifteen
minutes later, she was ready.
"I'm gonna have to leave secretly."
Too late. Dr. Granger was walking up the stairs.
"Hermione!"
Hermione cringed at the shrill note in her mum's voice.
"And just WHERE do you think you're going in THOSE clothes?" Dr. Granger
demanded.
Hermione had to say it before she let herself be taken over by her conservative
mum.
"To... to meet an... er, boy friend of mine."
"Not a boyfriend, huh? Just a- boy friend?" her mum asked sarcastically.
"Well, yeah."
"Are you lying to me, Hermione?"
"Okay, fine! A boyfriend! Yes, my boyfriend! My new boyfriend! Happy now?"
Then she turned and ran out of the house and sped down the country lane. She
hailed a cab and ordered the driver to take her to London.
She handed over the cab fare and ran to the Leaky Cauldron,
pushed open the door, and came face to face with Draco Malfoy.
"Uh, hi," he managed to say.
Hermione was a bit disappointed. What, no kiss?
Then suddenly, he took her in his arms and kissed her, a deep, lingering kiss.
For someone who'd never been kissed, Hermione was doing a pretty good job,
Draco thought, shifting his grip around Hermione. He looked at his watch.
That would make it three minutes- just a few more seconds.
"Ahem!"
The noise startled Hermione and she abruptly pulled away from Draco to look into
Harry Potter's clear green eyes.
"Potter, you stopped us breaking the record for Longest Kiss!' Draco complained.
"No, Herm and I already set that record last year, five minutes if you want to
know," Harry snapped.
Hermione reached for Harry's arm, he pulled away with a look of disgust on his
face.
"What the hell is going on, Hermione?" Harry demanded. Pain crossed inside his
eyes among the natural flame that was always there.
"Oh, do shut up, Harry," she said, laughing. "You always make a mountain out of
a molehill. I've changed."
"Yeah, I can damn well see that!" Harry said. Then he faced her, looked into her
eyes, and said clearly:
"Slut."
A long time ago, Harry would never had put, well, that word into the same
sentence as the name Hermione, but looking at her made him sick. She was no
angel.
"I'll kill you for that, Potter," Malfoy muttered.
"No, I'll get her first. You promised, Hermione."
"What did I promise, Harry?" asked Hermione, looking amused.
"That- that you'd be mine! And only when- when we were old enough- would we-
we..."
"C'mon, Potter, you can say it," Malfoy teased him. "You wanted to have it off
with her!"
Harry stared Malfoy in the eyes and wondered why the boy's face didn't burn;
what with all the hatred inside his own.
And then instinctively, he knew what he had to do. He took a firm grip on
Hermione's arm and pushed his mouth to her mouth.
He grabbed her other arm and slipped it around his body.
But she did the unthinkable. She disentangled herself from him, put her hands on
his chest, and pushed him as hard as she could. Then she took Malfoy's hand and
placed her mouth on his. Harry just watched, shocked. He didn't hear Ron come
inside the pub.
"What the fuck is going on here?" Ron Weasley asked himself.
"You said that aloud," said Harry, looking murderous.
"Okay, now tell me why Hermione is mauling that... that... absolute bastard."
"You got me there, my man."
"Didn't she promise you..."
Fumbling with the neck of his shirt, he produced a chain, which he took off and
chucked in the general direction of the street.
"Empty promise. I reckon he's Confunded her."
"I dunno, Harry, it looks like they're in for the long haul."
Hermione was quite enjoying torturing Harry. Now let him see what it's like to
love someone and never get anything back! She had loved him for five years.
Enough was definitely enough. She let the thoughts pass and concentrated on
kissing Draco.
Draco was starting to feel quite sick. Let's wind it up, darling, he ESP'd to
Hermione. Once again he checked his watch. Seven minutes.
They parted and looked around. Ron and Harry did not look pleased.
Stuff you all, he muttered to himself, Hermione's mine.
"I don't care whether I die in the process, let me at them," Harry muttered
furiously.
"Harry- what're you gonna do? Kill Hermione because- and I quote, 'she's just
too much of a good friend that a relationship would mess up the whole thing'?"
Ron sounded just a little too nonchalant.
Harry looked Ron straight in the eye and said, "You like her, don't you?"
Now Ron just looked afraid to death.
"You. Like. Her."
"Awright, awright, yeah Harry, I want Hermione- I can't have her, nor can you,
Draco's got her- these are the things we know."
Harry thought he was dying. He wished he was. His mind cut to a scene in Titanic
where someone screamed, "No!" as the ship sank.
He knew how that person felt. He wished that he could swap places with them.
Then Hermione stepped forward.
"I waited for you long enough, scar boy. Five years in my book is long enough."
"Herm-I..."
Here it was. Hurricane Hermione. She turned around and drove her words into him
like white-hot needles.
"Don't. Tell. Me. Your. Bullshit. Fucking hell! When will you get the fact that
Draco here loves me and will care for me? And I didn't have to wait five fucking
years either!"
Then Draco put his arm around Hermione, and Harry felt like getting out his
Firebolt to concuss them both with it. And Ron as well. He could not handle it.
Simple. He could not believe that Hermione had turned to that terrible side.
But maybe there's a side of Draco that Hermione can reach, a pesky little voice
said reasonably.
"Yeah, there's his side, and then there's his side," Harry whispered,
unbelieving.
Then he turned to go, but he remembered that there was something he had to say.
"Just don't come wanting me to have you back, because you won't be allowed," he
wrote on a piece of parchment, then stuck it in Hermione's back pocket and left.
"I will never have you," he whispered fiercely,
"Slut."
Then he walked away.
Ooh! Harry is not happy, to say the least. Wonder what'll happen next? Wait for
it, it'll be posted soon.
Chapter #1
The Love Dragon
Can Malfoys really fall in LOVE? This one obviously can.
Draco Malfoy was bored, bored, bored, and bored. His father's Dark Arts stuff
was starting to get boring, swotting up for next term was boring before he even
started, and most of all, the thing that bored him most was his father's
lectures when Draco suggested to his father that life at Malfoy Manor was less
than exciting.
Lucius Malfoy was preoccupied with a new case at the Ministry of Magic, so he
sent a servant to order up the Weird Sisters to play in the gardens of the
manor. The familiar music got Draco up and dancing but abruptly he sat back
down.
How do you talk to a teenage wizard? Lucius asked himself. Most likely he was
starting to get interested in- well, girls- but Lucius liked to avoid those
subjects on account of Lord Voldemort. He was not very happy with Lucius of
late.
He had delicately suggested that Lucius needed to get his son back into Death
Eater-shape.
"What is he, a Boggart?" Lucius joked. Instantly he regretted the line.
"He'd better change, and quickly," Voldemort replied sternly, none too amused.
Then his voice changed. He seemed to be crying inside. "I recognize in him an
emotion I did not know you could let him feel."
Lucius's face wore a pained expression.
"Yes. Love."
"But- but Malfoys don't fall in love."
"Well, that one does. With whom, I do not know. But I sense that it is not a
Slytherin."
Draco paced the room, thinking. What is it that's really wrong with me? I'm
supposed to be horrible and instead I'm turning into a real softie!
Then the thought entered his mind.
"A girl?" he asked himself, in disbelief, "Uh-uh. Forbidden territory."
Malfoys didn't fall in love. No way, no chance, not ever. They married for
power.
And instantly he knew who the girl that he liked was. She had the nerve to sass
him when he insulted her. She had the nerve to slap him when he insulted Hagrid.
The girl was Hermione Granger.
Draco reached under a tome about the Dark Arts for his diary.
Dipping his eagle-feather quill into his bottle of ink, he wrote:
Dear Diary,
I can't stop thinking about this girl I love her name is Hermione Granger.
Draco threw down his quill and muttered, "Hopeless. Absolutely, completely
berserk."
Then his face perked up at the thought. 'I'll send her a letter," he said to
himself. Once again he picked up the quill, opened his desk drawer and rustled
around for some dyed parchment. Then he remembered that he didn't usually
write nice letters to people (or embarrassing letters, he thought), so he had none.
He got up from his desk and picked up his wand. His family was excused from
underage wizardry laws. Draco would not get in trouble for using magic on the
holidays.
"Accio dyed parchment!" he cried. It came zooming up the stairs, through the
corridor, and into Draco's room. It landed on the bed. He picked it up and
opened it. He deliberated between a pretty lilac or rose pink. "The lilac," he
decided.
Picking up his quill, he dictated the words in his head and the quill zoomed
around on the parchment, then Draco signed his name.
Dear Hermione,
I can't stop thinking about you and I wish you were mine. Honestly? I think I
love you.
I'm not going to give you any clues yet (and don't you dare look at the bottom
of the parchment until you finish reading what I've got to say.
It's the oddest match I've ever heard of or thought of. I tried to stop myself
from hurting you with those insults I threw. I'm kind of glad you slapped me
because maybe I'm a better person for it.
I really and truly like you, Hermione. I can't help what my heart feels. I don't
care what Mum or Dad say because truly, I'm not like them.
Four years can matter, five can be infinity.
Remember.
Love always,
Draco Malfoy
Hesitating for a minute, he put the letter in an envelope with a charm. He had
magicked it from the air.
"A magic wand and instead of sparks, a heart," Draco smiled. Then he shut it and
ran down to the Owlery. He found his own owl and placed it between his talons.
"Make sure it gets to her safely, all right?" he whispered.
"Whoo, whoo," the owl said in response.
Hermione must not live far away from Malfoy Manor, Draco mused.
His owl had come back with a letter in his talons. But it was not the same envelope.
"Thanks, buddy," Draco said. Tucking the letter inside his robes, he ran
upstairs to his room. He closed the door, and sat on his four-poster.
Opening the letter, he pulled out a letter.
Dear Draco,
How do I begin?
I need you. To Ron, it looked like I wanted Harry all the time, but it's always
been you. You own my heart, and by the look of your letter, I own yours.
I am going to Diagon Alley tomorrow to buy my books for sixth year. Will we meet
in the Leaky Cauldron? I will be there at ten o'clock.
Don't bring your father.
Love, Hermione
She doesn't have to worry, Draco thought. He felt like... he was happy. Really,
truly, happy. Not the kind of happy he felt when he won something or managed to
cut people down to size. He was happy. Ecstatic, even.
"Yes, Hermione, we will meet in the Leaky Cauldron."
Later, after dinner, Draco approached his father.
"Father," he began. Lucius looked up and said,
"Draco, my boy!"
"Father, I am growing up and I believe that I am old enough to go to Diagon
Alley alone."
"Well, actually, I had been discussing with your mother that very thing. And we
have decided... that you may go alone from now on."
"Oh, thank you, Father!" said Draco.
"But we will want you back at six p.m tomorrow- so you can stay
overnight at the pub. Your mother- Narcissa, is giving a dinner party.
It begins at seven-thirty."
"Absolutely, Father."
"Good boy."
All night Draco tossed and turned, wanting to go to sleep but feeling deathly
impatient for the next day. Finally, he just stopped and went to sleep.
Next thing he knew, his curtains were opening and the sun was shining through.
He stumbled into his bathroom and washed his face and brushed his teeth.
Then he stood in front of his closet.
"The white shirt and the black jeans. As per bloody normal," he sighed. He
wanted to wear robes, but the Muggle world would pick up on it.
"Fine then, I'll take them in my bag."
He folded them and put them in his bag.
Hermione, like Draco, stood in front of her closet and deliberated outfit after
outfit. Finally she decided on jeans and a white shirt. Hesitating just a little
bit, she untucked it and unbuttoned the shirt so that a little of her stomach
showed. Then she slid her feet into pure white trainers, slipped a satchel over
her head and her purse into it, and reached for her straightening iron. Fifteen
minutes later, she was ready.
"I'm gonna have to leave secretly."
Too late. Dr. Granger was walking up the stairs.
"Hermione!"
Hermione cringed at the shrill note in her mum's voice.
"And just WHERE do you think you're going in THOSE clothes?" Dr. Granger
demanded.
Hermione had to say it before she let herself be taken over by her conservative
mum.
"To... to meet an... er, boy friend of mine."
"Not a boyfriend, huh? Just a- boy friend?" her mum asked sarcastically.
"Well, yeah."
"Are you lying to me, Hermione?"
"Okay, fine! A boyfriend! Yes, my boyfriend! My new boyfriend! Happy now?"
Then she turned and ran out of the house and sped down the country lane. She
hailed a cab and ordered the driver to take her to London.
She handed over the cab fare and ran to the Leaky Cauldron,
pushed open the door, and came face to face with Draco Malfoy.
"Uh, hi," he managed to say.
Hermione was a bit disappointed. What, no kiss?
Then suddenly, he took her in his arms and kissed her, a deep, lingering kiss.
For someone who'd never been kissed, Hermione was doing a pretty good job,
Draco thought, shifting his grip around Hermione. He looked at his watch.
That would make it three minutes- just a few more seconds.
"Ahem!"
The noise startled Hermione and she abruptly pulled away from Draco to look into
Harry Potter's clear green eyes.
"Potter, you stopped us breaking the record for Longest Kiss!' Draco complained.
"No, Herm and I already set that record last year, five minutes if you want to
know," Harry snapped.
Hermione reached for Harry's arm, he pulled away with a look of disgust on his
face.
"What the hell is going on, Hermione?" Harry demanded. Pain crossed inside his
eyes among the natural flame that was always there.
"Oh, do shut up, Harry," she said, laughing. "You always make a mountain out of
a molehill. I've changed."
"Yeah, I can damn well see that!" Harry said. Then he faced her, looked into her
eyes, and said clearly:
"Slut."
A long time ago, Harry would never had put, well, that word into the same
sentence as the name Hermione, but looking at her made him sick. She was no
angel.
"I'll kill you for that, Potter," Malfoy muttered.
"No, I'll get her first. You promised, Hermione."
"What did I promise, Harry?" asked Hermione, looking amused.
"That- that you'd be mine! And only when- when we were old enough- would we-
we..."
"C'mon, Potter, you can say it," Malfoy teased him. "You wanted to have it off
with her!"
Harry stared Malfoy in the eyes and wondered why the boy's face didn't burn;
what with all the hatred inside his own.
And then instinctively, he knew what he had to do. He took a firm grip on
Hermione's arm and pushed his mouth to her mouth.
He grabbed her other arm and slipped it around his body.
But she did the unthinkable. She disentangled herself from him, put her hands on
his chest, and pushed him as hard as she could. Then she took Malfoy's hand and
placed her mouth on his. Harry just watched, shocked. He didn't hear Ron come
inside the pub.
"What the fuck is going on here?" Ron Weasley asked himself.
"You said that aloud," said Harry, looking murderous.
"Okay, now tell me why Hermione is mauling that... that... absolute bastard."
"You got me there, my man."
"Didn't she promise you..."
Fumbling with the neck of his shirt, he produced a chain, which he took off and
chucked in the general direction of the street.
"Empty promise. I reckon he's Confunded her."
"I dunno, Harry, it looks like they're in for the long haul."
Hermione was quite enjoying torturing Harry. Now let him see what it's like to
love someone and never get anything back! She had loved him for five years.
Enough was definitely enough. She let the thoughts pass and concentrated on
kissing Draco.
Draco was starting to feel quite sick. Let's wind it up, darling, he ESP'd to
Hermione. Once again he checked his watch. Seven minutes.
They parted and looked around. Ron and Harry did not look pleased.
Stuff you all, he muttered to himself, Hermione's mine.
"I don't care whether I die in the process, let me at them," Harry muttered
furiously.
"Harry- what're you gonna do? Kill Hermione because- and I quote, 'she's just
too much of a good friend that a relationship would mess up the whole thing'?"
Ron sounded just a little too nonchalant.
Harry looked Ron straight in the eye and said, "You like her, don't you?"
Now Ron just looked afraid to death.
"You. Like. Her."
"Awright, awright, yeah Harry, I want Hermione- I can't have her, nor can you,
Draco's got her- these are the things we know."
Harry thought he was dying. He wished he was. His mind cut to a scene in Titanic
where someone screamed, "No!" as the ship sank.
He knew how that person felt. He wished that he could swap places with them.
Then Hermione stepped forward.
"I waited for you long enough, scar boy. Five years in my book is long enough."
"Herm-I..."
Here it was. Hurricane Hermione. She turned around and drove her words into him
like white-hot needles.
"Don't. Tell. Me. Your. Bullshit. Fucking hell! When will you get the fact that
Draco here loves me and will care for me? And I didn't have to wait five fucking
years either!"
Then Draco put his arm around Hermione, and Harry felt like getting out his
Firebolt to concuss them both with it. And Ron as well. He could not handle it.
Simple. He could not believe that Hermione had turned to that terrible side.
But maybe there's a side of Draco that Hermione can reach, a pesky little voice
said reasonably.
"Yeah, there's his side, and then there's his side," Harry whispered,
unbelieving.
Then he turned to go, but he remembered that there was something he had to say.
"Just don't come wanting me to have you back, because you won't be allowed," he
wrote on a piece of parchment, then stuck it in Hermione's back pocket and left.
"I will never have you," he whispered fiercely,
"Slut."
Then he walked away.
Ooh! Harry is not happy, to say the least. Wonder what'll happen next? Wait for
it, it'll be posted soon.