This is my first humorous story after depression. It's in Draco Malfoy's POV, and it has severe OOCness. It's rated R for language.
Disclaimer:
I AM NOT J.K. ROWLING!161616767676
Letters and Actions Made
Prologue:
Granger's 'little' problem.Dear
-No, forget I wrote that.
I acknowledge you, Mud-blood:
That's better...
Let me get this through to you:
I do not do mornings; I, Draco Malfoy, am not a morning person! My eyes don't open in the morning, and that's why I usually skip Potions. It's only luck I'm in Slytherin, because I am not sly when I'm sleepy.
Now I, the GREAT KING- I shouldn't have to point this out, but I can say whatever the fuck I want- have to tutor YOU, the Mud-blood Queen of S-T-U-D-Y-I-N-G?
Christ! What the fuck? Who the hell are you playing me for, Mud-blood? Seriously, you need your head examined badly, because I know you're not retarded like Crabbe and Goyle!
Oh, and if you want to contact me face-to-face, then go to the portrait of Morgan Le Fay and mutter, 'Mud-blood.' I'll be waiting…
Forever loathing you,
Draco Malfoy
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Hell right I'm not a morning person; I had to let Granger know that; but I had no clue why.
I didn't even re-read the document before I sealed it with the Malfoy insignia and gave it to my owl Narragansett, and watched with an uneasy feeling as she flew out of the window and towards the Gryffindor tower before promptly closing the shutters to my window before the rapid rain would drench my room and me.
I always was curious about people and their daily study habits. I've also wondered how people live- how they interact with others- how they have feelings… I know you people don't think of me like that, but I'm a very curious person.
I'm interested now about Granger's behaviour... That isn't a good thing- especially if father found out. Mum wouldn't care; she's always encouraged me to be curious about the world around me; and I have been, always since I was able to remember things- but even she might be a little angry about my curiosity now.
It just wasn't natural to be questioning- even almost worried for a Mud-blood; I knew that all too well...
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Flashback:
When I was 13, the year Granger slapped me, in Christmas break, father brought home a ten-year-old girl, and I could never forget the smile on her face, the happy look in her eyes. I thought father had finally changed his ways- but I was wrong.
He told me to fuck her...
I didn't, but
he did it instead...That day I realised my father was an evil bastard, and that's one of my reasons' I hate him.
Now, I'm a realist, but I didn't expect that sweet innocent girl to commit suicide after two weeks. I was surprised, confused, and three weeks later, when I sneaked out of my room for a midnight snack- (yes, I am human, I know it frightens you) I stopped by my parent's bedroom and caught part of their conversation.
"You can not let our son near that Parkinson! She isn't good for him! He needs a nice brunette girl!"
Mum... I had thought, inhaling softly, and pausing to rest my ear on the door, and I nearly recoiled back. The door was violently warm, and it just sort of frightened me.
"I can do whatever the hell I want, wench!" I heard my father scream, and I heard something hit a wall, and I winced, the sound vibrating off the walls. I guessed father threw something into the door, because I couldn't see through the crack anymore.
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I was gazing into the darkness of my room, waiting patiently for Narragansett, and thinking of things to amuse myself.
I closed my eyes and murmured some spells I learned in transfiguration, which I arranged into pig Latin for my own entertainment.
"Aciocay Granger," I murmured quietly, smirking lightly with slight mirth.
I could feel a lantern light against my eyelids, and I slowly opened my eyes, my amusement suddenly leaving me.
Her dark tresses were drenched, framing her perfect acne-free face. She was wearing black attire, a huge black shirt over black pants, and black socks. She wasn't much to look at, but she had a pretty face, at least, and she was smart.
"Are you a night person, then?" she asked me, and I couldn't help but laugh at her.
"Yes Granger, I am." I answered her, and smiled partly at her confused expression.
"Good," she murmured, and she sat on the edge of my bed, placing her lit lantern between us.
"So, Malfoy… Can you help me, because you treating me… Like you don't want to help me." She interrupted my thoughts, and I sighed before sitting up.
"I regard you with an indifference boarding on aversion," I answered coolly, "which in other words means that I don't give a fuck about helping you. I think you're kidding me, Hermione Granger. You're a bloody know-it-all. It's against your principles to ask for help, isn't it?"
"Something happened to me last week," she muttered, and I had to lean in and catch it.
"Which caused your whole personality to make a sudden swift alteration to being more daft than mine is?" I questioned, and she sighed quietly.
"Something like that. I need you to help me… I heard something like what's going on with me happened with you, too."
I couldn't believe it; I was actually having an enjoyable conversation with Hermione "Mudblood" Granger.
"I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about." I said coolly, and I could feel her piercing gaze upon me and chose to ignore it.
"Yes you do, Malfoy."
Well, so much for a decent conversation with the Mud-blood.
"No, I don't," I said, and stared blankly into space, feeling her angered gaze on me intensify.
"Your mum died twelve months ago," she muttered, and my eyes flashed towards her.
"That wasn't supposed to pass to Mud-blood ears," I muttered through clenched teeth, and I felt somehow happy when she scooted away from me, her eyes widening.
"I just want you to help me, Malfoy, don't go all hostile on me… I know I was like you-" she said, and I sneered at her cruelly.
"I think, therefore, I am not you," I interrupted her, and she scowled.
"Can I just explain what I came for?" she asked, looking very aggravated.
"Go ahead, go ahead," I murmured, "I'm not stopping you in any way, now am I?"
"Okay," she muttered, taking in a silent intake of breath and continued, "My mum died a week ago, and my father was the one who murdered her… She was the only person whom prevented him from going near me when he was drunk. Now that's she's gone I just don't want to go back to living alone with my father. He has insane drinking habits, and I'm afraid that he would hurt me and kill me as he did mum…
"Rapidly my grades started slipping because of the depression; that's why I'm going to loose the position of Head Girl next year. I started feeling worthless, I kept on thinking about what you say to me, and I slowly started to believe it. I haven't cut myself yet, but I'm tempted to," she paused again, looking over to me, as if this is where I came into her story, but I couldn't read her expression- not in this dark room.
"Lumos," I murmured, and Granger glanced over at me, but I ignored her shocked gaze, and the room slowly lit up, and she put down her lantern, it being useless now.
"That isn't normal, Malfoy," she finally said, and I glanced over at her, holding my head in my hands.
"What?"
"You did that without your wand…"
I rolled my eyes at her, and couldn't help but retort, "Well, la de frickin' da!"
Granger snorted, and I arched my eyebrows at her.
"I didn't know you watched Saturday Night Live, or even had a TV at all." She said between giggles, and I had to roll my eyes at her again.
"Granger, can you just tell me why I have to tutor you? I know that we share similar problems, but that's all you've let me be knowledgeable about." I said calmly over her insane giggles, staring into space at random things.
"Malfoy, you have unlimited knowledge at your disposal, do you not? You already know what I want."
I glanced over at her, slowly arching my eyebrows, though I knew exactly what she was talking about.
"You want access to my book collection, and for me to give you support when people taunt you? I think you would just frighten your Head Master and Snape…"
"I probably would!" she agreed, and I chuckled.
"How about I tutor you at the library at 5:00 tomorrow? Afterwards, we can arrange the schedule so I can come after Quidditch practice." I glanced over at her, caught her nod, and gave her a small smirk.
"I'll be seeing you, Malfoy," she murmured before standing. I watched her grab her lantern and walk coolly out of my room.
What shit have I connected myself in?
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The day started out normal for me; I was sleeping soundly at 7:00 until this annoying voice was ringing in my ears.
"Malfoy! Malfoy! Wake up now!"
All the Slytherins are my friends; they don't call me 'Malfoy'…
"Granger," I grumbled into my pillow.
"Yes, it's your favourite Mud-blood, now will you please wake up?!"
I could tell she was annoyed with me, but I hadn't expected her to come and give me a personal wake-up call! If I did, then I'd tell her that simple fact again: I AM NOT A MORNING PERSON, and that I AM A HEAVY SLEEPER!
"Granger, do you remember the letter I sent you?" I spat at her, hiding my head in my pillow.
"Yeah, I do, you're not a morning person, but Snape caught me with you last night and he thinks I can be your own alarm clock. The guy's mad."
"Which kind? Mad as in angry, or mad as in insane?" I asked, though I knew the answer.
"Insane," she answered, and proceeded to strip off the covers, and I bit my lip, preventing myself from screaming. WHY WAS IT SO COLD IN THE MORNING?
See, this is why I hate mornings, Mondays, Thursday, and all the other weekdays! In the morning it is C-O-L-D.
Malfoys and cold DO NOT mix! (Eh, except my father; he's as cold as they come. I bet the guy was born when Grand Ma was in hypothermia…) But anyway…
But no, the Mud-blood HAD to be ignorant! She knew I hated the cold; I saw her watching me at Hogsmade shivering my arse off! I know she couldn't have forgotten something from a few weeks ago!
1...
2...
3...
4...
5...
Aw fuck…
"IT'S SO COLD!"
Granger giggled, and I rolled over and glared at her, at the same time twitching from the cold.
"Laugh all you want, Granger… I'll get you back." I buried my head into my pillow, and closed my eyes tightly when a blinding light filled the room.
I could just picture Granger grinning when she said, "Wake up, Drakey-wackey!"
"No, Draco wants his beauty sleep!" I cried in protest, and she giggled madly. I shuddered and my head hit my bed- no soft comfy pillow to cushion it.
"Then you'll need a lot of sleep, Malfoy, now arise!" She yelled in that annoying voice of hers, and I muttered a spell under my breath, and moved my hands discreetly under my head.
"MALFOY!"
I grinned, and clapped my hands, then sighed. The room was dark again, and Granger was soaked in water, I had made my huge glass float over her head and when I put my hands down, it had dropped.
"You're dead, Malfoy!" she screeched, and I felt something hit my leg, but I just muttered the same spell again.
"DAMN YOU!"
So, how was it? Isn't it horrible? I didn't mean to write this, but I needed to write something so that I could be happy again. I feel so much better! Writing's therapeutic after all!
