SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
A Word of Warning: This ficlet is set in an Alternate Universe. HBP and DH have both been completely disregarded for the purpose of this story. I'd definitely rate it "M" It contains Coarse Language, Limes, Lemons, and Characters OOC.
It also begins with a rather questionable flashback sequence that, trust me, is necessary for the ending to make sense. Using "film canon" there, not "book canon". "Sorry 'bout that!"
I believe that what attracts and keeps fans of various Authors is each Author's own unique and individual style. Any glaring mistakes or unprofessionalism you may encounter herein is entirely my own fault and responsibility, and is strictly against the unheeded advice (and the superior knowledge) of my extremely patient Beta.
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
A/N:I'm not JKR, and I don't own anything you might recognize within this tale. But if I was and if I did, I'd be in the Bahama's lying on the white-sugar sands and sipping on an icy Pina Colada with Alan Rickman beside me right now. It would be an iron-clad part of his Contract! Just kidding, NOT! mmwwahhaha! (she evilly chuckles, as she greedily rubs her hands together in her wickedly wanton anticipation!)
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
(Flashback from Third Year)
Draco (in his snidest, most aristocratic voice): "Come to see the show?"
Hermione (quickly striding the remaining distance towards him in full-duelling posture, her wand tip pressed firmly against Draco's throat, forcing his chin up, and his fear causing him to snivel): "You foul, loathsome, evil, little COCKROACH!"
Ron (calling to Hermione from a short distance away, trying to keep her from making a huge mistake):"Hermione! Come on. He's not worth it!"
(Hermione slowly lowers her wand down, and turns away from Draco Malfoy. She tucks her wand into the back pocket of her jeans as she turns around, willing to walk away for both Ron and Harry's sakes.)
(Draco begins to snicker too soon, however. Before she'd even thought it through, Hermione whirls quickly back with a perfect right-jab to his perfect patrician nose! She felt the immensely satisfying 'Crunch!' beneath her knuckles of his nose breaking upon the fierce impact.)
Draco (running away, clutching his profusely bleeding nose with both hands, and Crabbe and Goyle chasing close on his heels): "Not a word about this to anyone! I'm going to get that jumped-up filthy Mudblood. You mark my words. Just you wait and see!"
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
A Fine Line
Chapter One: I'll See You In September
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
(Hermione's POV)
"All a-Board!!" sang out the conductor of the Hogwarts Express as students, prefects, monitors, along with the odd assortment of teachers and Order members sent to guard those students clamboured from the 9 3/4's platform onto the train for the long ride to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the new start of term.
Hermione was a bit sad that she'd not be riding in the same coach with Harry and Ron, just as she had done for the past six years, but was very excited at the same time. Because this year, her shiny Head Girl's badge had arrived neatly tucked into the same envelope with her Hogwarts letter.
This year would be her year, Hermione just knewit. Not that she had ever minded being the brain of the Golden Trio, but by Merlin's Shiny Silver Beard! She'd always been so much more than just books and cleverness, even if her friends could never see it.
She so very desperately wanted to be 'Just Hermione' for once before she graduated Hogwarts, and not be just Harry Potter's best female friend OR just Ron Weasley's 'back up, in case no one better comes along'.
This year she would be riding in the plush, rather luxurious, private coach reserved for the Head's. Hermione mulled over all of her classmates that had been taking the same courses as she had every year, as she tried to work out just who might possibly have made Head Boy this year. She'd really like to know exactly whom she'd be sharing quarters and duties with this year, as well as this coach they were to travel in.
She knew all of her fellow Gryffindors, and none of them could have possibly made Head Boy this year. Maybe it was Anthony Goldstein of Ravenclaw? Or Justin Finch-Fletchley of Hufflepuff, as his marks were up there also? It had been such an awfully long time since there had been a Hufflepuff Head Boy or Girl, after all.
Her mind skidded to a halt, and locked shut, when it came to her Slytherin classmates. There was only one possible candidate from that House that could even be considered in the running for Head Boy.
Hermione adamantly refused to think about him.He had been the very bane of her existence for the last six whole years. No, she'd never allow herself to think about him. It had to be Anthony Goldstein. It just had to be!
Hermione eased herself back onto the lush velvet upholstered seat, then removed her familiar, Crookshanks, from his cat-carrier and curled him protectively into her nervous arms. The comforting chainsaw purring of her familiar snuggling against her was soon drowned out by the jerk-and-chug-a-chug of the train pulling away from the station.
Since her male counterpart hadn't appeared and joined her in their coach after the first half -hour, Hermione finally began to relax. She fluffed up one of the soft brocade pillows provided, toed off her black leather school shoes, and lifted her socked feet up onto the seat. She yawned widely.
Hermione had been too excited to get very much sleep last night, and it was rapidly catching up with her. She stretched out on the plump, well-padded seat, cuddling a still purring Crooks even tighter in against her chest.
Within a matter of moments, between the rocking rhythm of the Hogwarts Express and the rumbling warmth of her Crookshanks snuggling back against her, Hermione Jane Granger was soon quite soundly asleep.
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
(Draco's POV)
"All a-Board!" called the conductor of Hogwarts Express in his sing-song lilt. Students were scurrying around everywhere, much like ants from an overturned mound, as the prefects, teachers, and monitors were trying to make certain that none of the students missed their train, and that they all had seats once on board.
Draco Black Malfoy was desperately attempting to disengage his mother's arms from around his neck so that he could board the train. "Mother! Please let me go, for the love of Merlin. Everyone's watching. You're embarrassing me in front of my friends," he whined softly in his teenaged annoyance.
Tall, perfect, pale, and icily beautiful. That was Narcissa Black Malfoy. Draco was really proud of his beloved mother, and he wouldn't have hurt her for anything in the world. Lucius and the Dark Lord both did enough of that to her already. He caught a glimpse of the tears hovering in her pure blue eyes, as she finally released him and turned her anxious face away.
Draco reached out and caught his mother's hand. "Mother, I promise that I'll owl you as soon as I'm settled in tonight before I go to bed. You have my word," he said more gently, as he lifted her be-ringed hand to his lips and gallantly kissed the back of it.
Narcissa silently sighed, and softly said, "Draco, I'm so very proud of you. Always remember that you are just as much a Black as you are a Malfoy. Don't think that you have to follow in your father's footsteps. You're better than that my son. Better than bothof us, really."
Draco sighed heavily, and gently patted his mother's slender hand again before releasing it. "I know that you don't want me to become like . . . him, Mother. My godfather has managed to make me see what Lucius truly is over these past six years. I'll do whatever I can to make you proud that I'm your son. I'm just glad Lucius is still in Azkaban. It always worried me to have to leave you alone with him . . . and his . . . rages."
"All a-Board!" the conductor loudly called one last time, pointedly glaring at Draco. "Bye, Mother! I'll owl you, I promise," Draco called back over his shoulder, leaping onto the steps of the train just as it made its first jerk-and-chug-a-chug. The Hogwarts Express pulled away from the station to begin its long annual trip to Hogwarts for the new start of term.
Narcissa Malfoy stood on the platform waving to her only child until the train could no longer been seen or heard. She slowly turned around, wiping away the tears she'd finally let fall, and despairingly beseeched any deity that might be willing to answer a mother's earnest prayer, "Please save my son, my only child. Don't let Lucius and the Dark Lord steal his soul, or take his life. I beg of you. Save my son, no matter what it takes!" Narcissa pulled the hood of her dark sapphire-blue cloak back up over her pale golden hair, and Apparated back to Malfoy Manor.
Draco stopped and spoke to some of his fellow Slytherins before slowly making his way to the Head's private coach. It was good to feel looked up to, even though he didn't trust most of them any further than he could physically lift and throw the train currently causing him to dip and sway with its forward motion. The only exceptions being Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, and Millicent Bulstrode.
Those three Draco Malfoy trusted with his very life. They all felt exactly the same way as he did about the Dark Lord. The four had made a pact between themselves last year to help each other avoid taking the Dark Mark. They'd all made plans to go 'underground' and flee the Wizarding World, rather than be forced to become Death Eaters themselves upon their graduation at the end of this year.
His godfather and Head of Slytherin House, Severus Snape, had owled Draco the week prior to let him know that he had made Head Boy, and just who had made Head Girl. By carefully 'reading between the lines', so to speak, Draco had gleaned that his godfather wanted him to make an extra effort to be kind to the chit.
Although Merlin only knew why! Probably it was the very short life expectancy the chit had when the coming war really began full force. There had also been that steely wording, now burned into his memory, 'If you feel it necessary to refer to her heritage in any way, kindly remember to word it Muggleborn . . . and not that crude epitaph that is not commonly used in polite society.'
Draco eased the door of their private coach open, and slipped inside to take his seat opposite the Muggleborn Head Girl. The fuzzy mass of ginger fur curled up in the sleeping girl's arms raised its squashed-in face, cracked its fiery orange eyes open the barest slit, and emitted a long deep throaty growl at the intruder.
Draco merely inclined his platinum head in a slight bow of acknowledgement, and spoke in all sincerity to the animal, "Hello. My name is Draco Malfoy, and I mean no harm to either you or your mistress. I'll be sharing Quarters with you both this year. It would be nice if we could all just get along. Yes?"
Crookshanks lazily stretched his front legs out, spreading his toes wide and exposing his razor sharp two-inch long claws for Malfoy's perusal. For good measure he then yawned widely, curling his rough pink tongue out and slowly licking over the vicious two-inch long curving daggers of his canine teeth. Crooks then gave a slight bow of a nod of his fuzzy orange head to the pale young man, before protectively snuggling back down against his sleeping mistress.
Crookshanks was very impressed that this wizard had actually spoken to him. So few wizards ever did that. Crooks could understand spoken English very well, but because he was only half-kneazle he couldn't respond back in words. But Crookshanks remembered everything!
His mistress had wept floods of bitter tears every year they'd been at Hogwarts because of this wizard's cruel words and actions. Crookshanks decided that he'd reserve his judgement for a while. He'd already let the pale young wizard know that he was well-armed, and that he'd defend his mistress tooth and nail, if necessary.
In the meantime, more sleep was called for, so Crooks shut his glowing eyes and slowly drifted back off. He hoped that he'd dream once more about the queer smelling man-rat that had gotten away from him so many years ago.
Draco leaned back to rest his pale blond head against the window corner of the velvet upholstered seat and sat quietly, just watching the witch and her familiar sleep. There were faint dark shadows underneath her eyelashes that made Draco wonder why Granger shouldn't have been sleeping the sleep of the just every night.
Her golden brown curls were fanned out around her face like the halo of a saint, and her full rosy lips were slightly parted, allowing her warm breath to whisper in and out as her chest rose and fell while she peacefully slept on. She looked just like an angel.
Draco was struck dumb, as a thought niggled it's way from the back of his unconscious mind into the forefront of his consciousness. 'How could I have ever thought of her as homely, bushy-haired, and bucktoothed? Sweet Circe! She's beautiful.'
He regretfully shook his head, and turned to stare out of the window at the rushing scenery scrolling past. Just more of Lucius' brainwashing, he reckoned. Draco had been refusing for years to see this girl for the lovely, intelligent, powerful, young witch she was becoming, simply because of her unfortunate bloodlines.
Severus had seen it from the very first. He had tried for the past six years to explain it to him, but Lucius' rhetorical rantings, and severe beatings, had kept Draco blind to the acceptance that Muggleborns could be equal in every way to Purebloods. He regretfully sighed once more.
Draco silently acknowledged to himself that his own personal realization on the idiocy of blood bigotry just might have come to late for him to be able to make friends with this highly intelligent witch. Draco thought he might like to make friends with Granger now, if she'd let him. They'd both made Head, after all, and it would make their living arrangements so much more pleasant if they could reach some kind of mutual accord.
Draco finally allowed his own quicksilver eyes to slowly drift shut, and he joined the pair across from him in sleeping, lulled by the peaceful rocking rhythm of the locomotive in which they all rode.
The last thought that flitted through Draco's drowsy awareness was, 'How she must HATE me, for all the cruel words I've said, and awful things I've done to her. The Gods all know that I deserve it.' Draco yawned, and snuggled down against his own brocade pillow.
His mind added a hopeful afterthought, just before Morpheus claimed him, 'I wonder if she'll ever let me attempt to make it all up to her one day?'
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
(Hermione's POV)
Halloween was almost upon them, and Headmaster Dumbledore had ordered the Head Girl and Boy to organize the Halloween celebration that was to be held in the Great Hall this Friday night.
It was a lot of additional responsibility falling onto her over-achieving shoulders, and Hermione sighed fretfully. 'Wretched, meddling, old man! Like I don't already have enough on my dish, now this.' She just knew that the brunt of the work-load involved would somehow end up on her already overloaded back.
Hermione paused in mid-step, and thought once again about Malfoy. He had been doing his fair share of patrolling, with only infrequent complaints, and he'd even been being polite to her in his own snarky Malfoy way.
The Ferret also made a decent study partner when it was just the two of them, alone, in their shared common room. Maybe tonight, while they were studying, she'd check to see what views Malfoy had on the festivities they were supposed to come up with.
She'd really like to make this a special celebration, one that every single student present would talk about and remember for years to come, if they all had years to come considering the rapidly approaching War was almost ready to begin.
The massive clockworks began it's tolling and Hermione jumped. She was startled to find that she'd been standing stock-still and daydreaming about Draco Malfoy, of allpeople!
Hermione began running, in a manner definitely not appropriate to her status as Head Girl, down the many twisting steps to the dungeons. She'd rather have house points taken from her for running in the halls than to be late for her Advanced Potions class.
After all, Hermione Granger hoped to be the one selected for the only Potions Master's Apprenticeship that Professor Snape had ever offered in his twenty someodd years of teaching the dangerous but fascinating subject!
Hermione skidded to a halt just as she reached the heavy oak door leading into the Potions Classroom. She smoothed down her school robes, then demurely walked in, and slid into her usual seat beside Harry and Ron just as the clock finished striking the hour.
Moments later Professor Snape entered his classroom. He abruptly slammed the dark heavy door shut behind him with an impressive Bang! The Professor then strode to the front of the classroom, his black teaching robes billowing about him as usual.
With a single brisk wave of one long-fingered pale hand, the ingredients list and brewing instructions began to appear on the chalkboard. Professor Snape then began his lecture on Wolfsbane Potion in his deep, languid, baritone, circling the rows of now intrigued students in a manner that reminded Harry and Ron of a large, angry, black vulture.
When the Professor had concluded his lecture, he stood silently glaring at his Seventh Years for several of the longest seconds ever recorded. Nearly every one of the blighters were squirming in their seats before his glittering onyx eyes released them. Snape finally let out a bored, long-suffering sigh.
"I scarcely dare to hope that any of you dunderheads will be able to successfully brew this difficult and complex potion," Snape drawled, "but it will comprise a full quarter of your final grade this term. Therefore," here he pointedly glared at Hermione, "there will be NO talking amongst yourselves. You will treat this potion as an examination. I will have complete silence until such time as your pernicious attempts at brewing are completed, and your sample is clearly labeled and resting upon my desk. Talking amongst yourselves will result in your failure, even if your potion is perfect, as it will be assumed that you were cheating. That is all. You may now begin."
He whirled around in a swish of black woolen robes and took his seat behind his impressive mahogany desk. The dark Potions Master drew out his quill and special ink, and began furiously slashing great swathes of the blood-red ink across the first parchment of the stack of essays before him.
Despite the surfeit of groans, shuffling, and the obvious nervousness of most of her classmates, Hermione's amber eyes glittered with her excitement as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Confidently, she stood up and walked straight over to the supply cabinet and began to pull, organize, and prepare her ingredients.
She was almost giddy at the opportunity to brew such a difficult, complex, and necessary potion. In short, a suitably challenged Hermione Jane Granger was in her very own Heaven!
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
(Draco's POV)
Draco was not most pleased by any meaning of the word. Damnable old coot! What in the wide world of witch's tits had made Albus Dumbledore think that he, Draco Malfoy, would actually enjoy planning a Halloween celebration for the whole castle?
Damn, damn, double damn it all! He had a full curriculum on his dish that he at leastneeded an Acceptable on, making 'nice' with the sons and daughters of Death Eaters (so as to avoid suspicion), and his Head Boy's duties and responsibilities. There was his Mother's welfare to worry about, and the ever increasing attraction to the Gryffindor 'goddess that just happened to be his room-mate' to fight against.
Not to mention that there was also his godfather's rather heavy-handed instructions in Legilimency and Occulumency to endure, so that he could withstand both Lucius and the Dark Lord during the upcoming dark times.
Now he had to plan a fucking Halloween celebration to top it all off. Fuck, fuck, fuck it all! Albus--Fucking--Dumbledore included!
Draco stomped off down to the dungeons for his Advanced Potions class without bothering to wait on the aforementioned 'goddess'. He'd left her to do the nicities with the old coot by claiming the need to go back by their quarters to retrieve his Potions essay before class began.
It was a lie, of course. The essay was shrunken and in his robe pocket the whole time. Draco had simply wanted to get away from the Headmaster before that sneaky old wizard could take a peek at what always seemed to be foremost in his mind lately. Very naughty thoughts concerning one Hermione Granger, of course!
As he entered the Potions classroom, Draco sneered his trademark Malfoy sneer at Harry and Ron as he stalked past their table on his left, and went to take his seat down near the front of the classroom beside Blaise and Pansy.
Merlin's Hoary Balls! He was so glad that neither Crabbe nor Goyle had had the smarts to make it into Advanced Potions. Now if he could only manage to get rid of Nott, Draco Malfoy could really enjoy this class, even with Potty and the Weasel sitting at the same table as Hermione.
'Hermione . . . what a beautiful name!' Draco thought to himself for about the fifteenth time that day. He softly sighed once more, his eyes glazing over dreamily, as the object of his secret thoughts entered the room to take her accustomed seat.
She hadn't even acknowledged that he was on the same planet, much less sitting only three rows ahead of her on her right. Draco sighed again, and felt Pansy's comforting pat on his knee.
He quirked a lopsided grin at her, and pulled himself together just as Professor Snape slammed the door behind him and strode to the front of the classroom to begin the day's lesson plan.
Draco was amazed that they'd really be working on such an interesting, necessary, and complex potion today. Circe! Wolfsbane Potion! Severus must be about to 'weed out' the last of the fools in the Seventh Years Advanced Potions class.
Dumbledore couldn't possibly fault his godfather for expelling any slackers from this class if they were stupid enough to try to chat up their partners. Severus had plainly said they were to consider this potion as an examination, and not to talk.
After he'd set up his cauldron, Draco stood up and made his way over to the supplies cabinet. As he was returning with his ingredients, he dared a furtive glance at Potter's table. He was hard put to surpress the grin that attempted to arch across his full lips when he saw the sheer joy and excitement plainly displayed on Granger's glowing face.
Draco needn't have bothered trying to hide it. She was in her own little academic paradise, and didn't even notice him. When his gaze slid over to where Nott sat across the aisle from Granger, he instantly noticed Nott staring at the expanse of slender tawny thigh and curve of buttocks that were revealed whenever she bent over to make the additions to her already simmering cauldron.
His silver-grey eyes narrowed to angry molten slits as he realized that one of Nott's hands was not occupied with his potion. It was busily massaging his groin underneath his table.
Draco was instantly inflamed with the desire to cast an Unforgivable on Nott! He ground his perfect pearly teeth in his frustration, as he continued to make his way back to his own table.
Draco proceeded to set out his ingredients. He began to organize and prepare them as needed to begin his potion.
This should have been a most interesting and challenging lesson. He set the flame under his cauldron and started his brewing, but his joy about learning this complex potion today was suddenly gone with the wind.
In short, a worried, confused, and unexpectedly jealous, Draco Black Malfoy shook his pale blond head as he slowly realized that he was in his own personal Hell!
End of Chapter One
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
A/A/N: Well?! How is it so far, dear readers? TRUST me! I know what I'm doing. Just hang on. It's going to be a bumpy ride! (:D)
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS