New Story. The "*" parts are the end of the story if you wish to read them. I left them out of the actual story because it caused unecessary parenthesis, but I still wanted them to be written. So, yay! Read if you'd like. Or if you like Draco. Or Draco and Hermione. And do keep in mind that I don't have anything against Ron or Harry (I love them both actually), but for the purposes of my story, they may not be exactly to your liking if you are absolutely smitten with them or whatever. So yes. Please read and tell me whatever thoughts you have. I am all ears. Or in this case eyes. Weeeeeeeeee. Read on my dears.
~PROLOGUE~
Ron. Of course it was Ron. It was always Ronald Weasley.
Everywhere she went, he had made his presence known too. Whether it is turning up in the library- when he has, in passing, verbalized his immense hatred of a place that could bore one so acutely- to "do his homework" by her side* or by sabotaging her Hogsmede date with the timid but endearing Ravenclaw Curtis Vonigly by slipping her a potion that he had made; a potion to give her a common cold and thus miss her date. Along with the Hogsmede trip. Not to mention the whole next week of classes.
This said "ailment draught" was not completely what it was meant to be- apparently upon brewing a potion in a cauldron that was not cleaned properly, the current potion's effects combine with the effects of whatever potion was left behind.
And intensifies the magical properties of both.
Therefore Hermione, thanks to Ron's carelessness and poor hygiene, was actually a terribly sick Ron for first Hogsmede weekend of their sixth year- further proof that Ron does not do homework. Even second years knew the cardinal rule of potions and cauldrons.
Harry at least found it entertaining that he had not only one Ron around, but two for a few days. That is until Hermione/Ron turned her anger and frustration out into violence onto Harry's person.
Ron/Ron would have found the whole situation hilarious if the situation hadn't landed him in the hospital wing to be treated for multiple hexes (courtesy of Hermione/Ron).
He told himself that at the very least he succeeded in ensuring that Hermione would be free of that stupid Ravenclaw*.
It happened to worsen the situation that by appearing as Ron, Hermione was consequently reminded of Ron and the fact that he was everywhere.
It became apparent to Hermione Granger that something would need to be done. Something had to be done stop Ronald Weasley.
It was the first day of October and Hermione Granger had the pleasure of having her body back to normal for a week after the whole "I am really Hermione but I look like Ron" polyjuice-potion-mix incident. She quickly mumbled the password to the Fat Lady and entered the Gryffindor common room and made her way to the couch beside the fire, taking in the room about her that she had been absent from for an entire week.
She had resorted to hiding out in the room of requirement for the days that she was Hermione/Ron and went straight to Madame Pomfrey once the polyjuice effects wore off. Hermione would not have normally have acquiesced to being treated in the hospital wing when she had the capacity to fix herself, but Harry, the kind dear friend he was, pointed out that Promfrey could heal her faster than she could heal herself: "The longer you are sick, Hermione, the more class time you will miss. It's up to you." Falling behind and letting Draco Malfoy take her place as top of the class was just simply unacceptable. The day she let that happen would be the day that Voldemort suddenly sprouted a nose*.
She had missed enough school to the point where Malfoy was probably peeing himself with excitement at the prospect of finally having a chance to best the "Mudblood".
So the remainder of her week of exile was spent amongst the crisp white beds of the hospital wing plotting various ways to kill Ronald Weasley. Metaphorically of course- Hermione knew prefect duties came before her personal life issues. Dumbledore would probably revoke her privilages or something if she actually did kill him. If her badge was taken away, that would kill her. So Ron's fate was out of her hands. For now.
Lost in her thoughts, she failed to notice two figures bounding down the stairs from the boy's dormitories.
"Hermione? Is that you?" Harry peered down from the staircase at the girl who sat tiredly in the couch by the fireside. The girl turned and smiled at Harry. Her gaze traveled a bit and landed upon something over his shoulder. Whatever she saw caused her face to twist into a scrutinizing scowl. Harry threw a look over his shoulder to see Ron looking a bit sheepish and bit back a chuckle. Apparently the Chosen One wasn't the only one with problems. It seemed that his mate Ron was like one big, giant walking problem.
"Go away Ron," the girl said as she turned around to face the warmth emanating from the fire.
"What about me Hermione?" Harry whined, "Do I have to leave too? Because, you know, I had absolutely nothing to do with any of this and I really truly believe that I honestly think that–"
"No. No you can stay, Harry," she said calmly before her voice took on an element of steel and finished pointing blindly in Ron's direction, "but he can go."
"Hermione, now let's be reasonable. Your cold wasn't that terrible and you have to admit that at least being me wasn't so horrid, I am a delight for the eyes after all."
Hang her bloody prefect duties. Hermione Granger was going to strangle Ronald Weasley.*
"Ron if you value your life you will leave and not try to speak to me until I say otherwise, alright?"
Ron appeared as if he was having a difficult time swallowing. His face held an unattractive mask of wonderment and fear all warped together. He had really done himself in this time.
"And I for the record I think I would have preferred being the giant squid for a whole month than being trapped in your body," snapped Hermione.
She said no more as she stubbornly sat. She overheard Harry laugh and pat Ron on the back saying something along the lines of, "Sorry mate, guess she didn't like what she'd seen" followed promptly by the slamming of the boys dormitory door.
Harry sat on the couch beside her and took in her appearance. She looked quite frazzled with wild eyes dancing with rage on her face that was clearly riddled with fatigue. Her brown hair was going every which way due to the lack grooming- not that he blamed her- she was in the hospital wing after all. He smiled. "Hermione, how are you getting along?"
"Brilliantly," she responded, her voice lackluster.
"Enough energy for sarcasm I see. You may yet survive and live to see another day Hermione."
"Yes. Yes I might. I don't know if I can say the same for Ronald."
Harry laughed. "He can't help it. He just wants to protect you… he means well."
Hermione chuckled humorlessly. "Oh how silly of me for being upset! If only I had known I was laying there poisoned in the hospital wing for my own protection."
"Well I never said Ron had intelligently handled that situation. Or that he was intelligent at all, for that matter."
Hermione looked up and with a look of warmth at Harry. "Thank you, Harry."
"Don't thank me; I am only taking your side for first because "Hermione" comes before "Ron" in the alphabet."
Hermione's left brow arched slightly up her forehead, "You git. What does the alphabet have to do with anything?"
Harry got up from the couch and grinned. He said nothing.
"Goooooooooodnight!" Harry sang as he pranced up the stairs, most likely, Hermione presumed, to console their idiot friend Ron.
Hermione rolled her eyes and sank back into the couch. A grudging smile graced her lips as she thought that her life would be easier if she found some new best friends.
Sane ones, perhaps.
But who was she kidding? She was not mad at Harry, she could not be angry at Ron forever. After all, the latter was everywhere she went. And her life would be much more pleasant without the said redhead complaining and wailing all day for her forgiveness. But she supposed that a few days free of dealing with Ron would be worth it. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to sleep.
Hermione exited the Gryffindor common room for breakfast. Her hair now groomed and somewhat tamed, the dark circles under her eyes now completely banished. All traces of fury from the previous day were absent; her skin was smoothed by the return of color that had been missing from her countenance just the night before. Hermione Granger was quite sure she was prepared for quite nearly anything today. The thought of that made her grin impishly, and her chin lifted with her spirits.
If she could manage to avoide Ron on her way to the Great Hall, she would praise Merlin. Her day would be complete even if it had just started. She looked over her shoulder as she made her way to the stairs to scan the scene for the unwelcome mop of red hair. Satisfied that there was nothing to meet her sight she turned her head back around. She had reached the last few steps as she heard someone screeching her name from the way she had just come. Ron. Of course. Merlin was an arse. She could not catch a bloody break. She winced as she stole a quick glance up the steps she came down and—
—tripped her way down to the last stair, only to crash into something hard and unyielding. She ended up on her back on the cold castle floor.
"Couldn't help yourself but fall for me, could you Mudblood," sneered a cold, elegant voice. She did not need to behold the face that owned that voice. That voice could only belong to one person. As if his pet names and ego were not a tell-tale to her.
"You caught me, Malfoy." She said disinterestedly as she hurried herself to her feet, briefly noting that the impact had hardly affected him. She did not have time for the Slytherin's usual snotty attitude and snide comments. She had people to avoid. Hermione quickly snatched up her wand that fell out of her robes and dashed through the doors of the Great Hall.
A very confused Draco Malfoy was left at the bottom of the stairs. The Mudblood never backed down from a verbal war with him. He knew that she had enough pride to make up for her poor excuse of heritage- and she was always quick to defend both.
Draco Malfoy thought quite surely while standing there that something catastrophic must be occurring to make Granger act so unresponsive to his taunts. Maybe a giant hippogriff flew from the sky and squished her precious Potty and Weasel.
"Hermiiiiiiiiiiionnnneeeeee."
Banish that thought. The very two people whom Draco wished were currently being sat on by a large magical creature barreled past him towards the doors of the Great Hall.
"Stop yelling so loud Ron, she's not here." Was all Draco heard before they, too, slipped into the dining area.
Humph. Draco would not be so lucky to have a hippogriff do anything remotely useful. Draco smoothed his ice blond locks against his pale skin. They whole species seemed to hate Draco anyway.
As Draco pushed the doors open to the Great Hall he couldn't help but entertain the thought that they had that in common. Hippogriffs and hating things that is. Draco pretty much hated anything that had absolutely nothing to do with his glorious looks or the privileges of his pureblood status, which were far and varied. He smiled faintly. There was another quality they shared. They were both prideful creatures.
As he made his way to the Slytherin table he was grinning at the absurdly amusing path of his thoughts: he, the Slytherin Prince, likening himself to a hippogriff. And Hell sprouts daisies and is full of prancing porcupines. He really believed that such a day would never come.
He was grinning now, a gleam hardly detectable in his precious metal colored eyes. He sat down in his usual spot.
"Draco, are you going to eat that muffin?" asked Goyle, crumbs dribbling down his multiple chins.
Draco glared, quite disgusted, and promptly began to eat his breakfast disregarding his lardy housemate. Looking up his eyes fell upon Granger eating alone at the Gryffindor table. He noticed that Potter and Weasley were eating together on the other end, glancing up from their probably pointless conversation to glance at Granger occasionally.
Granger was silent as she ate her food. Her chin was angled up and she blatantly refused to even let her sight wander over to the two fools at the other end of the table. She seemed too proud to give in to her friends who were obviously trying to get her attention.
Granger was a prideful creature.
Kind of like a hippogriff.
He frowned when he remembered he had just thought the same thing about himself and hippogriffs.
He choked on his muffin. His raucous coughs tore through the room.
Did he really just correlate himself and Hermione Granger? He could not have that. That was simply unacceptable. He quickly tried to summon a redeeming thought.
"Hippogriffs are ghastly creatures. I have the looks that even the gods would drool over."
Soothed at this, he glanced over to Granger once more. And what about Granger? Where did she fit into his clever justification?
Normally he would have grouped Granger in with the appeal lot of the hippogriffs. Later he would attest it to the fact that with his near death experience of muffin chips floating about his lungs, he obviously could not have been expected to think clearly.
But while at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall during breakfast on the second morning of October, he allowed the possibility that Granger to be not completely detrimental to his eyes and therefore could not be lumped in with hippogriffs.
Draco Malfoy decided on October third that he absolutely loathed hippogriffs. And muffins.
First *- It should be mentioned that Ronald Weasley does not do homework.
Second *- Ron failed to notice the irony in that last thought of his. He is Ronald Weasley, after all.
Third *- Which is highly unlikely.
