Late-night Monopoly Meetings: Chapter One
'R' is for
red chance cards
A certain bushy-haired Gryffindor scoured the hallways, making sure no one was in sight, before creeping out her portrait-hole and sneaking down the stairs to a corridor on the fourth floor. This, she knew, was one place that even Filtch didn't bother to go. She took a short moment to be proud of herself, before quickly sitting down in a corner and pulling out the Monopoly set that was under her arm. She opened it, flinching slightly at the sight of the mess it had gotten into, then painstakingly proceeded to set up the board game, as if she had five other people with her (though, really, it was just one person). She was grinning as she pulled out her wand and cast a spell on the game, making it come to life. The four different pieces move to the 'go' square, Hermione placing her own there as well, as money flew out into five different piles. The dice rolled over to her, as if daring her to make the first move, and since she was the one who had bewitched the game, she did.
She had only recently discovered the wonders of Monopoly. Just last week, at the Granger household, Hermione had been given a pristine set for her birthday. She read the rule book (as only Hermione Granger would) and quickly learnt how to play the game, becoming exceptionally good at it in the process. There were so many different strategies, so many different ways to play it, she loved it all. She'd brought up the game with Harry and Ron, of course, but she'd just gotten comments like, 'But 'Mione, I don't want a green house!' and, 'how come I've got to stay in Trafalgar Square?' It was a lost cause, really. So, she gave up on them and turned to the only other available person – herself.
She was so engrossed in the fact that the dog had just been sent to jail, that she didn't notice exactly one pale, blonde, Slytherin scowling at the board.
"Granger," he drawled, "Why in Merlin's name are you playing Monopoly –" he had a little struggle reading the name of the game over her shoulder "– by yourself – and at three in the morning, no less? You do know that I may have to dock points from Gryffindor for being out after-hours." Honestly, she was so strange. Non-existent social life and a tendency to sneak out at night to play board games. Alone. He wondered if she was – what was that Muggle word for it? – right, emo.
"Ferret," she greeted back, keeping her tone even to hide her surprise (and annoyance) from showing, "and I'd have to take the exact same amount of points from Slytherin. And you know what Monopoly is?"
"You can't do that," he smirked, "I'm just enforcing the rules by punishing you. And of course I know how to play Monopoly." He was particularly proud of how he had delivered those last two lies.
"Good – then can you pass me a chance card?" Hermione said absently, momentarily forgetting who she was talking to.
"And touch your Muggle-infested belongings? I'd rather not," he replied, grimacing, "What's a chance card, anyway?"
"So you don't know how to play. And you're such a sissy," she replied, putting on a face to mirror his own, "Why don't you just go away and leave me alone?"
"Because it brings me joy to annoy you. I do hate you, after all. And I can never sleep. What's your reason for playing out here without Potty and Weasel?"
"They're no fun," (she heard Malfoy mutter 'no surprise', but decided not to rise to that one) "and no one else knows how to play."
"So teach me," he said suddenly, without really intending to.
"Sorry – did I hear right? Draco Malfoy wants to learn how to play Monopoly – a Muggle game? That is, if you can even comprehend the rules."
"Cut the crap, Granger," he said, frowning at the way she had said his name, "either you teach me how to play, or you forever stay the way you are now – a filthy Mudblood with no friends." He could hardly back out now – and anyway, this would get under her skin, an added bonus.
"You don't really seem very eager to play at all, you git," she returned, full concentration on the game.
"Merlin! You're so sodding stubborn!" he sneered, at what he supposed was her face. It was rather dark.
"Fine," she said; if anything, to make him go away, "be here tomorrow at midnight. Now leave me alone."
"My pleasure, Mudblood."
"Ferret."
"Goody-two-shoes."
"Snob."
"Bush-head."
"Gelface."
"Bint."
"Git."
"Hermione Granger," he said, as if it were the worst insult in the world. Which in his books at that current moment, it was.
"I hate you," she hissed, as loud as she dared to.
"Feeling's mutual," and he disappeared.
Hermione sighed, no longer in the mood to play.
an; Well, here's my somewhat lame-ish shot at fan fiction. There'll only be seven chapters. After all, Richard Of York Gave Battle In Vain. Review!
21/01/10 edited.