Disclaimer: I wish.
A/N: This is the challenge I got from reetinkerbell and it's for bunney . The first thought that came to my mind when I found out I got her was, "Oh shit. I'm screwed." I planned on writing a parody with Asian!Harry and Hiphop!Draco but then that sucked. I am totally scared because she's such a good writer and I'm just a novice at this writing game. Honest. Totally scared. So I really hope you like it, bunney! Oh and the lack of British things and everything in between? Intentional.
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There's something about riding a train alone. Well, not really alone. But for Hermione Granger, it kind of is.
It's the start of her seventh year at Hogwarts and she is to be the Head Girl. Friends with Harry Potter (The Boy Who Lived) and Ron Weasley (the cutest red head you'll ever see), top of her class and now in the most coveted position, she's set to have the greatest year yet.
Looking out the window and seeing the beautiful fields of the countryside, she closes her eyes and lets the rhythmic beating of the train lull her.
"Hermione! Don't die on us, my fair lady! I shall rescue you from this foul…alligator."
That's Ron. He's the youngest boy of the Weasley clan, and just the sweetest thing, even with his volatile temper, which he's famous for.
They, he and Harry, are currently wrestling with each other.
"Mmphmm…Alligator? What the hell is that?"
And that… is Harry. Famous Harry Potter. All set to save the world with the aid of his two faithful friends. Poor Harry.
"You are stupid Potter. An alligator is a crocodilian in the genus Alligator of the family Alligatoridae. There are two living alligator species and they are the American and the Chinese. They're closely related to crocodiles. Take…that!" He finishes it off by flipping Harry face down on the seat.
"Where'd you get that?" Harry looks up at him, startled.
"What? I read."
"I'm proud of you Ronald. See? Reading does help. Don't give me that look. It does." , quips Hermione, now shaken out of her reverie.
"Harry, we must do something about our dear old Hermione. She seems…sad."
"Dear old Hermione? A few minutes ago I was your fair lady."
Ron gives Harry a knowing look as they both edge near her.
"Oh no. Don't you dare. Don't you- RON!"
Too late. Ron death grips her so that she can't move as Harry positions to tickle her sides.
"Argh! Stop it stop it stop it! HARRY!" wriggling albeit futile, Hermione screams.
"Say it. Say 'Ron and Harry are the handsomest studmuffins to grace the walls of Hogwarts'. Say it Hermione. We won't let you go until you do."
Still struggling, she laughs.
"Handsomest? It's most handsome, Ronald. And please let me go!"
"Okay fine. Say 'Ron and Harry are the most handsome studmuffins to grace the walls of Hogwarts'."
"We won't let you go till you say it, Hermione. " adds Harry, who is now attacking the back of her neck.
"But then I'd be lying!"
"Oh, she's asking for it."
"Big time."
"Okay, okay! Okay. Ron-"
"-and Harry"
She glares at them.
"-and Harry are the most handsome…"
"Say it. Studmuffins."
"No, not like that, Harry. Make it lower like, Studmuffins."
"Oh yeah! That's gold right there, Ron."
Boys.
"Can I continue now?"
"By all means pretty ladeh."
"…the most handsome-"
"Remember to make it lower."
They get another glare from her.
"-studmuffins-"
"Alright! That's our girl."
They give each other high fives.
"Do I ever get to finish this in the near future or do you have to keep interrupting?"
"Sorry."
"Good. Where was I?"
"Studmuffins."
"Right.. – studmuffins to grace the walls of Hogwarts. There! Happy? Now let me go."
"Sure, just one last thing…"
They resume position and tickle her for the last time.
Hermione's screams could be heard all through out the near compartments.
She likes it like this. Just the three of them having a good time. No worries. No obligations. Just them.
The compartment door slides open and they see a very pale-faced boy scowling.
The mood drops and they immediately stop laughing.
"What do you want, Malfoy?"
Harry is in his defense mode. You could see his hand on his back pocket, ready to take out his wand.
"Keep your pants on Potter. Granger, heads business, right now."
"Says who?"
"Says someone richer than you, Weasel."
Ron turns red with anger and maybe a bit of embarrassment. Malfoy always knows how to push his buttons.
"Ignore him. I'm coming, Malfoy. Don't get dramatic on me."
He looks at her disdainfully and walks away.
Hermione sighs and stands up.
"Well, duty calls. I'll be back soon."
"Are you sure you don't want us to come with you, Hermione? Malfoy's trouble."
"Thanks Harry. But I can handle it. See you later boys."
She kisses each of them on the cheek and heads off to where Malfoy is.
"Is she gonna be okay, Harry?"
"I hope so."
The look on their faces said so otherwise.
Hermione enters the compartment and every head except for Malfoy's turns around.
"I'm so sorry I'm late, Professor McGonagall. There were a few first years I had to help out."
"That's alright Miss Granger. Please take your seat."
The only available spot was the other side next to Malfoy (no one was brave enough), and she's seriously contemplating having to stand up rather than sit beside him.
"Miss Granger? Sit?"
"Woof woof, Granger." Pansy Parkinson smirks at her knowingly.
Here goes nothing.
She sits down and Malfoy makes a show by purposefully scooting away from her.
Idiot.
"Now that we're all here, I would like to say welcome and congratulations for being chosen as prefects and heads. On to business…"
Professor McGonagall's voice drifts off as Hermione again looks outside the window. She knows the rules inside out, side to side. McGonagall could speak the rules in Mermish and Hermione would still know it by heart.
She sees an old man tilling the fields and he waves at her.
She smiles back.
The fluid movement of the greens and the yellows from the compartment window somewhat relaxes her. It's constant. Fixed. Never going to change. It's not gonna be bright pink the next time you see it. It'll still be green and yellow. Or who knows? Maybe it will be. Nothing is certain anymore.
"…and the Heads will share a dorm. Any questions?"
Wait, what?
"Uh…shared dorms, Professor?"
"Yes Miss Granger. Shared dorms. Is there any problem with that?"
Yes! There is a problem with that. HUGE problem!
"No…not at all."
She looks at Malfoy and sees him and Parkinson talking in hushed tones. They look at her repulsively.
I'll be with one-half of that for a whole year? Oh JOY.
"If there is nothing else, you may all go. Ah, Mister Malfoy and Miss Granger, please stay."
"Be careful, Granger. We bite." Parkinson whispers to her as she goes out.
Hermione gulps. It's not that she's scared, but it's just hard to process the recent information she just gained right now.
Shared dorms?
"Come here you two. Alright, now. As heads, I expect you to be role models to the younger ones. This is a serious responsibility and I will not let you ruin it. I know your history and I do not like it one bit. For the sake of the school, be civil. There will be dire consequences if you don't. Clear?"
"Crystal."
"Yes, Professor."
"Good. Nothing else you want to ask?"
This is your chance, Hermione. Go!
She clears her throat.
"Professor, about the shared dorms…is it really necessary?"
Malfoy looks up and acts nonchalant. He fails to hide his curiosity.
"Yes, Miss Granger. And we cannot change tradition. It helps promote…"
Inter-House Unity. Yeah, yeah.
"…Inter-House Unity. I do not want any more complaints from either of you, understood? Good. I'll leave you two here so that you can plan. I'll be expecting it when we arrive at Hogwarts. Good day."
McGonagall goes out which leaves Hermione alone with a scowling Malfoy.
Over the years, Hermione and Malfoy have had an unofficial agreement. He doesn't mess with her, and she doesn't mess with him. Life has been pretty easy with that arrangement. Sure, there's the occasional snide remarks from both parties, but no harm done. They're not friends, but they're not enemies either. Just something in between.
"Deal with it, Granger. It's not like I'm jumping up and down with happiness either. For one whole year I have to suffer by looking at your annoying face and listening to your disturbing voice."
"Oh you have such a way with words, Malfoy. It makes me want to throw rose petals in the air and sing."
"Shut up, Granger."
"How original. Sit down, Malfoy. We have to plan."
"Plan it yourself."
He sits down and places his legs on the other side of the compartment.
"Look. I'm trying really hard to be civil with you Malfoy. Would it kill you to do the same?"
"Yes."
And with that he turns his head away from her and looks out the window.
"Fine. FINE."
Can I cry now please? This is so unfair. I've been nothing but good all my life. Went home before curfew, brushed my teeth after every meal, did extra credit projects, gave my peanut butter sandwich to a homeless child…what did I do to deserve this?
They sit in silence together. Not comfortable. Sickening.
It goes on like that for a long time. Hermione, writing on a piece of paper, ocasionally muttering something to herself. Malfoy, still looking out the window as if it would save his life.
Finally, someone breaks the silence.
"Granger."
Startled, Hermione drops her pen.
"What, Malfoy. Ready to verbally spar with me again? Well guess what, I'm not in the mood." She picks up her pen and angrily sits back.
"Are you happy?"
What kind of question is that?
She stops writing and looks at him.
"Of course I am!"
"Okay."
What the hell was that?
"Why do you ask?"
"Nothing."
"Of course I'm happy. I've got great friends, I've just been made Head Girl, my life is going pretty well.. So yes."
He just looks at her.
I am happy. Right?
"How about you Malfoy?"
He scoffs and shakes his head.
"Is that a No?"
"I'm not gonna have a heart-to-heart talk with you, Granger. Save your breath."
"You asked it first. Alright fine. Let's just sit in silence ONCE AGAIN."
He nods and turns back to looking at the fields.
He is exasperating.
She thinks about his question a bit more. Is she really happy? Truly? She can say she is because of her friends. Because of her position in life. She tries extra hard in everything and excels. Won't that make
any person happy?
But she's also lonely. And tired. She always has to put up this brave face.
Mudblood.
It doesn't affect her. It shouldn't. It's just a word.
She likes to make herself believe that.
She sees the way people look at her. Like she doesn't deserve to be one of them.
She's just a muggle-born.
She proves them wrong. Time and time again, she proves them wrong. She is not just a muggle-born witch.
Oh, she looks too plain.
She once bought a pocket mirror and hairbrush because her mom said it would make her look more pretty.
She's going to be the first one to die among the three. She won't stand a chance against Voldemort.
She doesn't care.
And she's tired.
"You know what? No. I'm not happy, Malfoy. I'm tired."
Her voice rings unusually high.
For a long time they look at each other and it's all they are aware of.
"Me too."
She looks away.
Good. Because he shouldn't be happy. After what he's done to her and her friends, he shouldn't be. She feels a certain vindication knowing he feels the same way.
"Hey, Granger. You look like the world's gonna end tonight."
"Isn't it? Not tonight, no. But when the War comes, it will. One side will have to lose. Doesn't that merit as the world ending?"
With that topic, Malfoy's face immediately falls.
"You don't know that. Maybe, maybe not."
"How can you not care, Malfoy? Don't you worry about it?"
"Do you really want to know?"
"Yes."
"As if I'm going to tell you."
Imbecile.
"Look Granger. When it's gonna happen, it's gonna happen. No use worrying about something that's certain. Stiffen that upper lip up or whatever the hell that saying is. You're not going to make it in this world with that frame of mind."
He's slowly moving towards her.
"Easy for you to say. Worry and I are synonymous. I can't sleep without worrying. I uh…"
What's he doing?
Keeping eye-contact, he sits beside her.
She clears her throat.
"As I was saying, I uh…cannot live without worrying. It's like-"
"Granger?"
"Yes?"
Her voice cracks.
"Shut up."
He leans in and she closes her eyes. She will later blame it on the stifling air that clouded her judgement.
Gongs now ring inside her head, bashing her brain and telling it that she is committing a heinous crime. Punishable by death.
But she doesn't care.
She's tired.
She lets out a moan, and she could have killed herself for it.
She's had her fair share of kisses, but this one is different. No, it isn't better, it isn't magical. But it's probably the first time where she just drops her guard. For the first time, she doesn't care about the proper way to tilt your head or the right amount of pressure for it to be perfect. Right now, she just is. Just kissing Draco Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy! Stop Hermione, stop! Huge mistake! Harry! Ron! Crookshanks! Dumbledore wearing a tu-tu! For the love of books, STOP!
She pushes him away in ragged breaths.
"We have to stop."
He breathes unevenly.
" Right."
They look at everywhere but each other.
"What just happened?"
"That."
Malfoy isn't the kind of guy to tell you exactly what the deal is. He doesn't like to label situations. And Hermione? She's the queen of labeling. And color coordination.
Malfoy stands up and dusts himself off.
"Where are you going?"
"Out."
She gapes at him.
"Wait."
He stops.
"One word, and you are dead Malfoy. I mean it."
He smiles sarcastically.
"Oh, but I would love to tell them about this! Seriously, Granger. I'm not that stupid. I know what will happen if this comes out. And if it does, you better watch out."
"Oh I am so scared."
"You better be."
"Whatever."
And he walks away.
She's left there sitting alone, looking outside.
The kiss that just happened? Never EVER going to have an encore, is that clear? NEVER. Complete lapse of judgement, Hermione. Complete lapse of judgement. And with Malfoy! Honestly. Do you have any taste at all?
She can't help but smile. Yes, she knows it's bad. She knows it's gonna bite her in the ass later on and she definitely knows it's not gonna happen again. Never again.
Hermione might be smart and all, but she doesn't know the future.
Her and Malfoy, they're not enemies. They're certainly not friends. They're just something in between.
This is going to be a very interesting year, Hermione.
She hears two voices coming from outside.
Harry comes in first.
"Hermione! We've been looking all over for you. We were getting worried."
"Where is she? Is she okay? No broken bones?"
Ron comes up from behind.
"I'm fine, boys. See?"
She stands up and turns around.
"Now lets go and get ready. I see the castle."
She puts one arm around each boy's waist and leads them out.
She likes it like this. Just the three of them having a good time. No worries. No obligations. Just them.
Hell, she's far from being in that "happy" state, but she's hoping to get there sooner or later.
And so there's something about riding a train alone. Well, not really alone. But for Hermione Granger, it kind of is.
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Rating: Any
One-Three Cliches You Would Like Your Story To Include:
1. Draco and Hermione are HB/HG (shared dorms yay!)
2. Draco comforts Hermione
3. Hermione is untouchable, the one Draco could never have.
Cliches You Really Don't Want, If Any:
1. Hermione is secretly a pureblood/halfblood witch.
Anything In Particular You Rather Not Write: I'll write pretty much anything.
Prefer Spoof Or Serious: Doesn't Matter