Senior Week
Author's Notes: this is just something that i've been thinking about for a while and i thought it would be fun to write. i hope everyone likes it!
Disclaimer: hey, i don't own it, hey.
Chapter One - Plan!
"You know, I was thinking..." Ron groaned as Hermione let those five little words linger. Everytime she said them, he ended up either hexed, unconscious, or covered in a milllion little green zits that spit out angry insults when they burst.
"What's on your mind, Hermione?" Harry asked, curiousity getting the best of him. Hermione chose to ignore Ron's outward protests and answer Harry instead.
"Well, I was thinking about how we're all going to be going our separate ways in a few weeks and-" Hermione stopped and decided to approach the matter from a different direction. "Do either of you know what 'senior week' is?" The two boys looked at her in a such a way that they gave off the appearance of one who'd recently had a lobotomy - leaving Hermione to assume the answer to be 'no.'
"Ah, yes... senior week." Three heads spun towards the source of this new voice. A tall, well-built slytherin was slowly walking towards the three goodie griffyndors. "I believe I know what it is."
"Oh, well aren't you just my hero, Malfoy?" Harry swooned sarcastically, cradling his head in his hands in an attempt to mimic a love-struck teenage girl. Draco soon arrived at the couch and vaulted it easily, landing smoothly next to Hermione.
"Hey, Harry." The emerald eyed youth, expecting to hear some well thought out insults from the blonde seated across from him, leaned forward a bit before flying back after receiving a pillow to the face. "Blow me."
"I wouldn't say things like that if I were you," Harry scolded, wagging a finger at him from his position on the reclining chair as the pillow slid down his face to land in his lap. "Who knows? One day, I just might." He winked dramatically before being struck with a second pillow. "Where are all these fucking pillows coming from!"
"Draco Malfoy, just where in bloody hell have you been?" Ron interrogated as Hermione giggled at Harry's recent outburst. The red head had his hands on his hips in his best impersonation of a mother worried sick about her only son. "You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago!"
"This is true," Draco answered the way a teacher might answer a child who replied to the question 22 as equaling 4. "But you see- and here's the beauty of it all- I don't have to listen to you." Right when Ron was about to start on one of his "that's not how you speak to your mother" speeches, Hermione cut him off.
"So do you know what senior week is or not?" Ron looked downright disheartened that the subject was changed before he could let loose his lecture.
"It's an american muggle tradition, correct?" Hermione nodded, a signal which meant for him to continue. "Where, after tweleve long years of schooling, 'seniors', as they would be called, flock in small groups to the beaches to celebrate, party, and otherwise do things they might very well get arrested for."
"I must say I'm very impressed to hear this coming from 'the muggle-hater'," Hermione admitted, a slight smile playing upon her lips. Draco shrugged nonchalantly as Harry and Ron processed this new information.
Right about this time, I'm sure you're wondering why the Golden Trio is actually getting along with the Slytherin King, of all people. Richard Simmons, sure. Michael Jackson, why not? Fidel Castro, let's give it a go. But Draco Malfoy? No fucking way. Alas, I kid you not.
You see, it all happened when Hermione discovered that Malfoy had managed to somehow make head boy. Rather than risk the ruin and complete annihalation of her last year at Hogwarts, she and Draco had come to a sort of truce which eventually blossomed into a friendship that infected and soon engulfed Harry and Ron as well. In the end, they'd come to find that Draco wasn't such a bad person after all. He would rather die than be a Death-eater, supported the destruction of Voldemort, and had a very rebellious charm to him- once you got to know him, of course.
"Are- are you saying what I think you're saying?" Ron questioned slowly, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Hermione.
"Well, what is it that you think I'm saying?" Hermione said quite coyly, raising an eyebrow in interest.
"That you want us to go to American and study for an extra five years with you?" This time, Ron received a pillow in the face.
"Hurts, don't it?" Harry snickered as Ron, shocked by Hermione's sudden violent streak, sat stunned.
"Very nice," Draco commented, admiring his slight corruption of the Golden Girl.
"What I'm saying," Hermione shot a withering glare in Ron's direction, "is that we should have our own little senior week!" By the end of the sentence, Hermione was smiling brightly at her proposition, convinced that the others would immediately agree.
"I don't know," Harry said hesitantly to Hermione's utter dissapointment.
"Oh, Harry, please!" Hermione was not one who wouldn't resort to begging in dire situations. This being one in her book, she immediately threw herself upon the poor unsuspecting boy-who-lived. "Oh, please, it will be so much fun, I promise! It will!" Harry sighed resignedly. He knew that these type of things usually ended up involving the cops, but he nodded his head anyway, trying to console himself by thinking that it could very well be the last time the four of them were together. Hermione squealed in delight as she gripped Harry into a somewhat uncomfortable hug. Not uncomfortable because it was with Hermione, uncomfortable because he couldn't breath.
"I'm in," Draco agreed as well, getting up from his position to pull Hermione off of a suffocating Harry.
"I think it's bloody brilliant," Ron exclaimed, thinking off all the possiblities. Most of them involving hot girls. Wait- hot girls. They needed hot girls!! "Maybe we should invite Lavendar and Parvati," he added quickly. These two girls were beautiful, funny, smart, but, most importantly, single. Ron had to admitt, though only to himself, that he found Lavendar to be the most attractive of the two. Hermione instantly agreed with him, welcoming the company of a couple girls.
"And Ginny and Seamus, as well," Harry added, seeing as he had taken a liking to the red-head beauty and Seamus, well, Seamus was Irish for god's sake! Think of every single Irish stereotype about drinking and soccer and potatoes and what have you. Got them? Well, roll all that into one perfect Irish being and you've got yourself Seamus Finnagan.
"Alright, alright, and that's it!" Draco declared, not wanting to turn this into some kind of free-for-all.
"Yes, Draco's right. We can't have too many people," Hermione insisted, allowing Draco to lead her back the couch after he quite literally ripped her off a gasping Griffyndor seeker. "All we really need to do is find a beach and a house we can rent and-"
"And I know just the place." Hermione turned her bright orbs on the strikingly handsome blonde, smiling like a giddy school girl and not at all upset that he'd cut her ranting short.
"Really?! Where?" Ron and Harry were now devoting their full attention to him also. Well, not entirely full because Ron was half-thinking about Lavendar and Harry was half-thinking about Ginny, but, you know, close enough.
"Adamos Beach." Draco said simply. The three still stared at him, waiting for him to continue. Draco sighed loudly, annoyed that that hadn't had quite the effect he was going for. "Adamos Beach," he continued in irritation, "is a wizard beach."
"A what?" Hermione asked, thoroghly confused. She'd never known there to be any wizard beaches, which came as quite a shock since she believed herself to almost know everything.
"A wizard beach," Draco repeated slyabically. "You know, a beach where wizards go so as not to be bothered by muggles and what have you."
"I never knew there was such a thing," Hermione said, awestruck by her ignorance to wizard beaches.
"That's a surprise," Ron snorted, rolling his eyes. "And to think, I thought you knew everything." Hermione silently agreed as she searched around for an object to strike him with.
"My mother and father used to vacation there in the winter," Draco continued, smirking while Hermione tossed a bookend towards Ron disinterestedly. Ron dodged the flying weight just in time and then proceeded to omit a string of curses from his mouth. "In fact," Draco said, a little louder, interrupting Ron's colorful usage of english slang, "we own property on the beachfront. We could all just stay there." The three instantly accepted his offer.
"So I guess it's all settled then," Harry pondered aloud. "That was unusually easy." Draco nodded, wondering as well why the whole process seemed so... simple.
"Well, what did you expect? Advanced Transfiguration?" Hermione scowled, throwing her arms in front of her chest crossly. Harry shrugged and Ron grimaced - he hated transfiguration. He kept getting visual images of Professor MacGonagall morphing spoons into vibrators. See how disturbing it is?
"Well, I think I'm turning in." Draco stretched involuntarily and stood to bid his friends goodnight. "We'll talk about the rest later. Night, guys."
"Night," Harry replied, getting tired himself just watching Draco head to his room.
"Night," Ron said lazily, waving his hand effortlessly towards his retreating figure.
"Night," Hermione murmured so softly, she was sure she was the only one who heard it. She watched, mesmerized, as Draco walked towards his door, noticing against her wishes that he had a really nice ass. Really nice.
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well, that was the prologue! what do you think? please review me!
.:SwEetDreAmSmUse:.