Longer
Disclaimer: None of the character we write about, belong to us! They belong, undoubteldy, to JK Rowling, who has an imagination and talent far more impressive than that of ours: so obviously, Harry Potter could not possibly be ours. That is not to say, that the plot, conversation lines, & unrecognizable characters, etc, belong to her as well. Those belong, to the respective fanfic. writer. :) Secondly, any poems, songs, quotes, etc, that we use, will be given credit to its rightful owner at all times: credit will be given, where credit is due.
Author: Marlène
Pairings: Draco & Hermione, Ron & Lavender
Summary: Doesn't time fly...when you're not having fun?
Rating: PG-13 for now!
Post It: If this idea has been used before, I do not know. However, if it has been, then I don't need reviews stating the obvious. I am quite capable if discovering that for myself. Words of encouragement & support are welcome & encouraged...I do not, however, want to see any flames. I do not go around mal-mouthing other peoples works, as everyone has different writing styles, different opinions, and different capabilities. Flames are nothing but an insult to the writer, who is merely trying to share their creative pieces with others. Please take this into account when writing your criticisms & remember to respect the writers on FF.net. It is only polite & fair. :)
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-Chapter One-
Sweat with me.
A meeting between two beings who complete one another, who are made for eachother, borders already, in my opinion, on a miracle. - Adolf Hitler
Sweat. Hermione hated sweating. It made her feel extremely dirty and unfeminine. Not that she was particularly feminine in her appearance anyway, or atleast that's what she thought. . .but this was just the limit. Leaning backwards in her seat, she kept her eyes on her half filled parchment and began rolling her left arm sleeve just slightly above the elbow, then did the same to the right side. It was unbelieveably hot for April, especially in this part of England. Sighing, she picked up her quill and began slaving further away on the test that Snape had given all seventh year students on the caecus potion – one which would render the drinker blind for a certain amount of time. Ignoring the sweat beginning to trickle down her temples and forehead, she forged on to describe the effects of this horrid potion that Snape seemed to be obsessed with – he had spent an entire week talking about the simple potion, which was unusual for him as he liked to press on and get things over with. 'Sadist that he is, he probably enjoys making other people sightless.'
Ron was having a difficult time focusing on the test. The dungeons were far too quiet for his liking. How could one concentrate when you could actually hear your mind working? Grumbling something incoherable under his breath, he shielded his eyes with one hand and tried to sneak a peek at Hermione's parchment. Obviously, it was a futile attempt, as Hermione had some way of always concealing her answers from everyone else. 'She probably charms her test papers as well!' It wasn't merely the fact that the dungeons were far too quiet, it was because it was boiling down there! It was amazing, how during winter, the dungeons were the coldest place to be, and in summer, the hottest. It was as if this part of the Castle had never been insulated. Frustrated, Ron reached for an un-used bit of parchment and began fanning himself. With any luck, his brain might decide to work if it cooled down somewhat. 'Fat chance of that...'
Harry frowned. This had to be the hardest test Snape had ever given them! Sure, brewing the potion itself wasn't easy: Three drops of Thestral blood was needed, and everyone knew that Thestrals were only visible to the eyes of those who had seen death. But other than that, the ingredients were easy enough to get a hold of. But it was the nature of the questions which dumbfounded him. The test itself was so easy, that it had to be hard! Snape must have had something up his sleeve. From his seat next to Ron, he eyed the Potions professor wearily: 'Look at that coat. . .isn't he feeling the least bit warm? Marking papers. . .I bet he's giving everyone failures except for his Slytherins.' Groaning at the thought of receieving another F in Potions, he recollected his thoughts and began chewing on his quill. Honestly, it was far too hot to be inside on a day like this! Quietly slipping out of his school robes, he closed his eyes, and tried re-focusing on the question before him: 14. i) Who had created the caecus potion, for what reason, and what difficulties were he/she faced with, other than getting ahold of Thestral blood? Did Snape seriously expect him to remember the name of the inventor. . .and for what reason?
His hand was aching. He had been scribbling, in his neat, small, & cursive print ever since the test parchments had been handed out, and now, it was taking its toll on his poor wrist. Putting his quill down, he stopped to rotate his right wrist, left. . . & right. . . It was a relief to feel some of the pain melt away. 'Speaking of melting, i'm about to. Hot, hot, hot!' screamed his mind. He briefly scanned the dungeons. Sure enough, everyone, except for Snape, which Draco acknowledged with a smirk, were sitting & almost bathing in their sweat. Quite a disgusting sight really. The girls seemed the most uncomfortable though. His eyes landed on Lavender Brown, who wasn't even bothering with the test anymore, but was more concentrated in getting her messy hair out of her eyes – they kept sticking to her skin, especially around her neck. He stifled a laughter at the pained expression she was having at not succeeding. Slowly, his eyes moved on to the girl next to her...'If it isn't the know-it-all Granger' he smirked inwardly. She had to be the only one, half as focused as he was, on completing the test and ignoring the throbbing head-ache she must have had from the heat. He watched as she quickly rolled her white-topped sleeves and with a single hand movement, swished her wavy locks away from her face. Rolling his eyes at how book-wormish she was, he was determined not to let her finish up the test before him. Leaning forward, he raced away at finishing question 25, the last one, on the test. Pure hatred was brewing up in him at the thought of 'losing' out to a mudblood gryffindor.
. . .Twenty Minutes Later. . .
"Harry, Harry!" Hermione announced, throwing the last of her quills into her bag. Harry & Ron were standing and waiting for her by the dungeon doors, obviously in deep conversation about something. Harry looked away from Ron and grinned at the approaching Hermione.
"Hullo to you too, 'Mione!" Ron replied sarcastically. Harry laughed, and Hermione swatted Ron's arm playfully, before grinning.
"Hello Ron. How did you find the test?" was Hermione's enthusiastic reply. Ron rolled his eyes at the question, letting Hermione walk out the door ahead of him and Harry.
"Well, if that's all you want to talk about with me, go back to harrassing Harry!" Ron grinned and pulled some gummi bears out of his pocket. Harry punched Ron before turning to face Hermione:
"Yes 'Mione?" He asked sweetly. It was then, that Hermione felt like getting lost in his sparkling emerald green eyes. It was a mystery to Hermione, how a man such as Harry, could still have beautifully glimmering eyes, after all that he had been through. Smiling sweetly, taking in Harry's disheveled look: raven black hair typically out of place, glasses slightly twisted on his face, and his lopsided grin in place, 'Damn he is so adorably cute!'
Clearing her now dry throat, she tore her gaze away from Harry's intense eyes, and quickly reached up to adjust his glasses before continuing. Harry blushed at the contact he made with Hermione. Ron just rolled his eyes. He didn't understand what the deal was with all the girls falling for Harry? Or for that matter, why Hermione & Harry had seemed to be so shy around eachother lately!
"I just. . . um, wanted to know what. . . you thought the test was like? I mean - " Hermione blushed, she was indeed, a book work, a geek, a nerd. Were school, tests, and homework all that she could really talk about?
"- You know, did you find it. . .easy?" She finished. The trio were headed down to dinner, as Potions had been the last lesson of the day, thankfully! Ron was munching noisily on his gummi bears, occasionally offering some to his friends, who, politely declined the sticky bears resting in Ron's palm.
Harry tucked his hands in his trouser pockets and shrugged:
"It wasn't the easiest one i've ever taken. . ."
"It was bloody difficult if you ask me!" Ron cut in, swallowing the last bear before tactfully arriving at the Great Halls entrance. Grinning like a mad idiot, he made to open the doors, and then bowed to let his two friends in. Hermione & Harry laughed at this gesture, before walking in and heading automatically for their usual spots in the middle of the Gryffindor dining table.
"Well, I wasn't really asking you Ron. . ." Hermione joked around, but seeing the look on Ron's face, she grinned:
"But your opinion counts just as much!"
"Ha-bloody-ha! You two take me for granted you know? Seeing as i'm not half as smart as you are 'Mione, or half as brilliant a Quidditch player as Harry. . . or as well known. . . or - "
"You may stop now Ron." Harry said blushing at the mention of his status as a celebrity. He hated being so well known. It felt horrible to be in the public eye, to have your every move watched, and scrutinized. To have people having such high expectations of the boy-who-lived. . .& knowing that somehow, you couldn't live up to them.
"I do, however, have the looks to beat both of you!" Ron grinned mischeviously before tucking the napkin infront of him onto the sides of his shirt collar to make it look like a shrunken bib.
"That, mate, you do!" Harry laughed. Hermione just winked playfully at her bestfriend. She took in Ron's appearance: he hand't changed half as much as the rest seemed to, in such a short period of time. He was still the bulky, not fat, but bulky, red-haired boy she knew. His blue eyes however, seemed to have intensified and become a beautiful shade of turquoise. Noticing his built body, Hermione realized that most of the boys she had grown up with, had transformed from scrawny little kids, to mature, well-built & handsome young men. Smiling, she patted Ron gently on the back:
"Yes Ron, you most certainly beat us in the looks department."
A few more minutes had been spent on a wide variety of chit chat, before the Staff Table up front became completely occupied, and the lights in the Hall lit up automatically. The magical stars began twinkling on the ceiling, even though, outside, the sun was just about to set & the sky was still a canvas of bright oranges, reds, and purples. All the chatter, at every single table, died down, as Dumbledore tinkled his fork on his crystal goblet. All eyes focused up on him.
In his heavy & thick voice, which always managed to come out as light-hearted and mischevious, Dumbledore cleared his throat before beginning an announcement.
"I am extremely sorry to have to disrupt the conversations being had - " He began.
"He should be. . . we were just getting to the punch line of the joke!" Ron mumbled in his seat, only to receive a piercing glare from Hermione, accompanied by a swat on his leg.
"Shhh!" Was her response.
"But most importantly, I am sorry to have to delay our meal from being delivered. I hear it's supposed to be Steak & Kidney pie tonight. . .with Westmoreland Pepper Cake for desert!" Dumbledore paused to take in the groans of disgust and looks of revulsion of Steak & Kidney pie again that week! It was a Thursday, and they had already had Steak & Kidney pie three times since Sunday! True enough, the head Chef was in the hospital wing, recovering from some sort of illness which could not be treated with magic. And therefore, several house-elves had taken over the task of cooking. . .to the regret of everyone. Chuckling, Dumbledore continued:
"But, I did not wish to announce tonights menu, but to inform all of the students, that there has been a new 'course' added to your schedules: physical education." The boys in the hall cheered enthusiastically at having a larger variety of sports other than Quidditch. The girls, however, sighed and groaned with disapproval at having to run around and actually get sweatier than they already were!
"For first until fifth years, Physical Education has been squeezed into your schedules so that you will be taking part in it atleast 4 times a week. One day being Saturday. Now now, please don't be upset about this. There is no other day that we can see fit to put this in. Therefore Saturday will have to do. Sixth and seventh years, we realize how hectic your schedules are, how heavy the homework load is, and the expectation to be preparing for your N.E.W.T.S. . .but it is also mandatory for you all to get in physical shape and exercise abit. . . it will be in no time at all, that you are all out in the real world, it is vital, that your physical state is. . . at its best for you." Everyone knew the underlying meaning in this: they had to be fit if a war came up. They had to be strong. They had to be a lot of things, that most of them, still weren't, and didn't want to be: warriors & hopefully, survivors.
"You will be taking this three times a week. Please consult your schedules to see when & where, as well as which opposing house you will be taking this with. Your professor will tell you all about this when you first see him. Now, enough of my boring rambling, have a lovely dinner and remainder of the evening!" His old face lit up, and his eyes twinkled merrily as the plates of food appeared infront of everyone.
. . .Back at the Gryffindor Table. . .
"I hope my ears deceive me. . ." Ron mumbled while grabbing his silver knife from the right side of his plate, and attacking the steak infront of him.
"I KNOW! Merlin! Are they serious? Run around & sweat more in this intolerable heat?" Hermione exploded, getting rather nervous at the thought of having to wear shorts, and play sports infront of others. She might have been good at everything else, but sports was definitely not her forté! Even though her fear of flying, and her dislike for Quidditch was public, she wanted to keep her lack in greatness at other sports a secret.
"Eh. . . I was actually refering to the great injustice which is. . . having a MALE teacher for physical education!" Ron groaned, causing Harry to choke on his potato and burst out laughing at the comment from his friend. Hermione absent-mindedly patted Harry's back gently, until he stopped choking and getting red in the face.
"Ron! I could take that two ways. . . that you're extremely anti-feminist, or that you're just disappointed at not getting the chance in seeing the would-be professor in tights?"
Ron blushed deeply. This is when Lavender, Ron's girlfriend, who had picked a great moment to arrive late for dinner, piped in:
"WHO? WHAT? WHERE? TIGHTS?! Where's the fashion police when you need them?!" She gasped, flopping down infront of Hermione & Ron. Hermione grinned and Harry broke out in another fit of laughter.
"Oh-h-h ple-eeeas-sse sto-oop!" He coughed in between every other word. Causing half of the Great Hall to turn their attention to the boy-who-was-choking-on-his-steak.
"Hullo Lav! You're late. Where've you been?" Ron asked eagerly, ignoring Hermione's comment for the moment.
"Oh, I had to see my divination teacher about some. . .extra classes." she smiled, which lit up her entire face. Lavender was indeed very pretty. Her sleek brown hair had the same shade as Hermione's did. And her eyes were a very pretty shade of light blue which made her looks a bit exotic.
Ron gulped his pumpkin juice down quickly and glared at her. Harry imitated the gesture.
"Extra divination lessons? Blimey. . .I'd be afraid to be around you Lav. You'll be walking around predicting mine and Harry's death every two minutes." Ron stated simply.
"That's not true!" she cried incredulously. She was a fan of divination, even though she knew Ron hated it.
"Well, can you tell me what that old bat talks about other than our deaths?" Ron grumbled.
Hermione sighed and decided this was where she should interfere.
"I hate to interrupt this lovers spat, but we have more pressing issues underhand."
"Such as?" Harry asked her, reaching past Dean Thomas, who gave him a grin, for the salt & pepper.
"Such as. . .who this new sports professor is?" Hermione replied, stuffing a bit of brocolli in her mouth.
"Male? Hmm! Interesting. . .what have I missed?" Lavender asked, finally snapping out of her divination reverie.
. . .Over at the Slytherin Table. . .
"Was that supposed to be some exciting, almost riveting speech?" Blaise Zabini asked, cocking an eyebrow at his fellow slytherin mates. The group of people, huddled around the head of the table: Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Crabbe, Goyle & Malva Giodo (a new student that had arrived at the start of seventh year, also the son of one of the most influencial Death Eater Pureblood families in England) laughed at this comment.
"I mean, everyone seems to find this. . .great?" Blaise continued, sipping the grape juice noisily out of his goblet.
"Mmm, I think they're a tad bit daft." Pansy piped in, leaning forward to expose her breasts through the V-necked top she was wearing. Draco Malfoy, who was infront of her, ignored this gesture. If it weren't for the fact that their families were good friends, he would have told the pug to fuck off. But she seemed to have a growing obsession on the poor lad. She leaned teasingly closer to Draco and slipped her hand down his shirt, where he had left a few buttons open. Draco immediately grabbed her hand and placed it firmly on the table.
"Not in the mood." was his simple reply. He looked rather lazy, seated most comfortably, one arm hung lazily around the seat belongong to Millicent, the other resting next to his goblet. Eyes half shut, like he couldn't give a damn there was a conversation going on around him. Truth be told, he found Dumbledore's idea pretty good. He was a sports lover, he enjoyed exercising his body, perfecting every inch of his body further. He knew he was attractive, what with his platinum blonde hair which hung lazily around his head, no longer slicked back, his steel grey eyes, the perfection of his lips. Unlike Blaise, his lips were not fatty. His were just perfect. Like every other part of him. He had a nicely toned body from all the work-outs he'd been doing. And added to his 6 ft 1 frame, he was quite the stunner.
"Hey man, what are your views on this new sporty 'thing' Dumbledore has planned?" Blaise asked curiously, pressing his lips against Millicent's, who was trying to pass him a grape. Pansy stared on his jealousy.
Draco cocked an eyebrow, and with one eye, lazily peeked through his hair, which had fallen over his face.
"I wasn't listening. But whatever Dumbledore has planned is probably ridiculous anyway." He smirked. Draco never let his emotions, except for sarcasm & anger, seep through his expression. He managed to keep a firm hold of his feelings. He had been taught to do so when he was young boy, and it had always stuck with him. His father, after all, was a great man to learn from. Had he not gotten this far? Had he not served the Dark Lord so well, that he was rewarded with. . . his train of thoughts was interrupted when Blaise burst out laughing. Millicent was clutching her side, and gasping for air, while Pansy had spilt her juice over her green top.
"What's so funny?" He asked impatiently. No one ever dared ignore Draco Malfoy.
"Millicent was just saying, wouldn't it be hilarious if we got to crush the Hufflepuffs every sport lesson?" Blaise grinned. He loved abusing people, he'd scare the wits out of them, and then traumatize them for. . . a long while.
Blaise snorted. "With our luck, we'll have to work with the Gryffindors!"
"Eew!" Was the immediate response.
. . .Back at the Slytherin 'Dungeons'. . .
"What did I tell you?" Draco asked, throwing the piece of parchment which was pinned onto their message board, at his mates. He rolled his eyes. Physical Education, three times a week – Mondays, Wednesdays, & Fridays – with the bloody Gryffindors. Oh joy! 'What lousy luck!'
Pansy groaned at the sight of: Slytherin & Gryffindor on the parchment, before settling herself onto Draco's lap. Draco sighed inwardly, before slapping Pansy's arse and pushing her roughly off his legs. Did this girl never get a clue?
"Looking on the bright side: Gryffindor are more fun to crush than those fucking lazy Hufflepuffs anyway!" Blaise grinned. Draco smirked at this and nodded his agreement before getting up and sauntering to his chambers. He was exhausted for the day. 'This heat is going to do me in. Or it could be the fact that father. . .'
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-End of Chapter One-
Post It: Thank you for taking the time out to read this fic. :) I hope, that I haven't already disappointed you with chapter one. If you think that I should continue writing, dont hesitate to leave me a review, positive reviews only please, or your criticizm by mail! And if you have any other message, I'd love to read what you have to say (but please, dont tell me that this story line has already been used, or that the characters are OOC. . .give me some time to get myself into this) :D I look forward to hearing from you. Marlène