My very first Harry Potter Fanfiction. Let's just say that I got sick of
just reading them. It's high time I wrote at least one myself.
Disclaimer: No, I don't own it. But I'd like to own Draco Malfoy for about a week. Great work J. K. Rowling! This is one of my absolute favorite book series.
London. King's Cross. Platform 9¾. For the sixth time. It was nice to go back. It would be good to see everyone. Hermione looked at the gateway to a different world. A world that she wasn't even sure existed until she was eleven. The wizarding world that was her answer to constant study and some small form of acceptance. Though she had been branded a know-it-all during the first two years, she had rapidly gained respect. She was the scholar, the wise one, and the brains of the outfit. As the mind of the Golden Trio she was very widely known and respected all over Hogwarts for her association with the famous Harry Potter. She knew that she was in for a lot of strange reactions from her friends. She had written them of course, to tell them that she would be staying with some relatives over the summer. But they had kept her so busy that she didn't have the chance to write again. But she had a wonderful time and discovered a lot about herself. She had also gone through a lot of changes. Her hair was longer, but sleek and slightly wavy and streaked through with auburn due to her time in the sun. Her eyes, instead of being a very deep brown had grown to a rich, golden, chocolate. Her complexion was still a bit pale but her skin had more of a very healthy sheen to it. She seemed to glow. But the most disturbing of her transformations was the simple fact that her body had undergone a most terrifying metamorphosis. Everything was where it was supposed to be. She had gotten a little taller. Her body leaner, her legs longer, her overall visage was- well curvy. Her breasts were plump and heavy and got most attention glued to her. She'd picked up some new hobbies as well. Though a good book still called to her at times, she now had a very strong urge to dance. And she was a great dancer. Her cousin's boyfriend, Lance, was a dance instructor at a studio near her aunts' New York house. She had three cousins there. Rita, Asia, and Korven. Rita was the rebel and always did her best to be noticed. She'd taught Hermione a lot about making or dodging 'the scene'. She loved to dance, to party, to be outrageous. They'd had a bet over the summer. Hermione had to outdo her at one party. Rita was also the one that introduced her to the finer arts of dealing with boys. There really was nothing to it. If you were pretty. And Hermione now knew that she was so much more than pretty. She was absolutely gorgeous. Asia was the quiet, laid back type. Nothing could rattle her. And no one could get to her. Her entire personality radiated this calm and demure sort of power. One step into a room and Asia could be as affable as a grandmother or kindly neighbor, but one instantly saw that she would make your life hell if you dared to try and make hers the same way. From her, Hermione had learned a sense of pride and confidence that shouldn't have been teachable. Asia was discipline incarnate. And then there was Korven. Korven was the most like herself. He loved books, he loved learning. But Korven had another love: women. And he loved them often. After realizing that Hermione was no besotted innocent to run to his mother and ruin his fun, Korven took a good long look at her. Korven had this habit about saying anything on his mind and the tact be damned at times. Hermione didn't even know why she was shocked at some of the things he said. One instance in particular that stuck in her head.
A few of his friends had just left while she and Asia had some quality time in the den. They sent the two lecherous smiles as they left. He glanced to his sister and then to Hermione.
"What did they have to say?" Asia asked.
"She's fuck-worthy. Hermione what do you think about the guys that just left?" Korven asked.
Through her shock, Hermione just blushed.
"She can't even speak," Asia laughed.
Hermione flushed with embarrassment.
"Don't worry love. I don't mean anything by it. But if those dogs can turn your head then someone needs to teach you the rules of the game Rita insists upon letting you play."
"Hermione. Those guys are some of the best womanizers that I have ever met in my life. The second we got to my room I listened to about fifteen minutes worth of talk about your hot ass. 'Nice tits, cute face too.' I've seen their victims and mine. We can get the smart ones almost more easily than the simple ones. Find a general interest, do a little homework and some witty banter and- bam! She's in the sack with her legs far enough apart for a jumbo jet to get in her. If she's good in bed, then she's a call back. If not, you'll see her crying her eyes out at some bar where she'll get banged again trying to forget about us. It's a fucking vicious cycle and it's easy to fall in if you're not careful. I'm offering, free of charge mind you, to make you virtually above the game. You're my little cousin. I don't want to see you like some of the girls that spend their nights calling out for me," Korven smirked.
"A 'player'?" she asked.
He had the decency to look affronted and mollified.
"My dear girl, don't be so vulgar!" he declared after his own obscenities.
"What I propose is that we make you is an expert in the field of adulation for the opposite sex."
"A thousand dollar combination of words for 'player' dear," Asia affirmed.
"Of course it's your choice," he said quickly.
"Go for it Hermione. I'm sure that there's some guy at that school of yours that just lives for challenges of the female persuasion. It'll give you a bit of a pet project while you're at school during the year," Asia pressed.
Hermione instantly thought of Malfoy. He was such a prat when they met, but he was becoming a very cultured and handsome man over the years. How long would it be until he started rutting around the school? If not already. Rita had shown her what a wonderful body she now possessed and had given her clothing to show it off without putting out. She confessed that a sexy and appropriate style of dress was difficult, but rewarding. By the time he found out who she was he'd be back on his old tangent of the taunting and name-calling. Or he'd be out for an unlikely conquest: her. She made up her mind then and there.
"Of course. I can learn a lot from such a master. Right?" she asked.
With a knowing smile Korven nodded to her.
The lessons had been interesting to say the least. But men were now only a small obscurity to her and no longer an enigma. Waking slowly from her daze, she realized that she had been in one spot for far too long. With so many men looking at her with such blatant lust, how would she get onto the platform without notice? It seemed impossible. But then opportunity came knocking. He was a tall and rather handsome young man that had been eyeing her for the past ten minutes. She smiled and he took this as a sign to come over. Hermione doubted that her 'come hither' essence would fail her. Dressed in a knee-length denim skirt and baby blue peasant top and black army boots, she could have been waving a pistol and asking him to come over to make the murder quick, he still would have come. He was very deep in 'I Want' mode. Korven had explained this as simply the phase where a person would do just about anything because they think they'll get a little. Or a lot. She smiled. There were many simple spells that didn't even need a wand. This was a perfect time to try one out.
"Hey, beautiful. Maybe I was wrong, but your smile just drew me over here. Can I do something for you?" he asked.
"Nhemara!" she whispered.
At once the hapless man walked away from her and began to dance while singing the alphabet. In the ensuing chaos, Hermione quickly disappeared through the portal. It was just a little spell. And perfectly harmless, though his ego may be a bit bruised later. The Ministry should let her be, if they could even track her. In a moment she faced the large scarlet steam engine. She couldn't help the smile that lit her face. Yes. It was time to go back. Back to Hogwarts. Back home.
Disclaimer: No, I don't own it. But I'd like to own Draco Malfoy for about a week. Great work J. K. Rowling! This is one of my absolute favorite book series.
London. King's Cross. Platform 9¾. For the sixth time. It was nice to go back. It would be good to see everyone. Hermione looked at the gateway to a different world. A world that she wasn't even sure existed until she was eleven. The wizarding world that was her answer to constant study and some small form of acceptance. Though she had been branded a know-it-all during the first two years, she had rapidly gained respect. She was the scholar, the wise one, and the brains of the outfit. As the mind of the Golden Trio she was very widely known and respected all over Hogwarts for her association with the famous Harry Potter. She knew that she was in for a lot of strange reactions from her friends. She had written them of course, to tell them that she would be staying with some relatives over the summer. But they had kept her so busy that she didn't have the chance to write again. But she had a wonderful time and discovered a lot about herself. She had also gone through a lot of changes. Her hair was longer, but sleek and slightly wavy and streaked through with auburn due to her time in the sun. Her eyes, instead of being a very deep brown had grown to a rich, golden, chocolate. Her complexion was still a bit pale but her skin had more of a very healthy sheen to it. She seemed to glow. But the most disturbing of her transformations was the simple fact that her body had undergone a most terrifying metamorphosis. Everything was where it was supposed to be. She had gotten a little taller. Her body leaner, her legs longer, her overall visage was- well curvy. Her breasts were plump and heavy and got most attention glued to her. She'd picked up some new hobbies as well. Though a good book still called to her at times, she now had a very strong urge to dance. And she was a great dancer. Her cousin's boyfriend, Lance, was a dance instructor at a studio near her aunts' New York house. She had three cousins there. Rita, Asia, and Korven. Rita was the rebel and always did her best to be noticed. She'd taught Hermione a lot about making or dodging 'the scene'. She loved to dance, to party, to be outrageous. They'd had a bet over the summer. Hermione had to outdo her at one party. Rita was also the one that introduced her to the finer arts of dealing with boys. There really was nothing to it. If you were pretty. And Hermione now knew that she was so much more than pretty. She was absolutely gorgeous. Asia was the quiet, laid back type. Nothing could rattle her. And no one could get to her. Her entire personality radiated this calm and demure sort of power. One step into a room and Asia could be as affable as a grandmother or kindly neighbor, but one instantly saw that she would make your life hell if you dared to try and make hers the same way. From her, Hermione had learned a sense of pride and confidence that shouldn't have been teachable. Asia was discipline incarnate. And then there was Korven. Korven was the most like herself. He loved books, he loved learning. But Korven had another love: women. And he loved them often. After realizing that Hermione was no besotted innocent to run to his mother and ruin his fun, Korven took a good long look at her. Korven had this habit about saying anything on his mind and the tact be damned at times. Hermione didn't even know why she was shocked at some of the things he said. One instance in particular that stuck in her head.
A few of his friends had just left while she and Asia had some quality time in the den. They sent the two lecherous smiles as they left. He glanced to his sister and then to Hermione.
"What did they have to say?" Asia asked.
"She's fuck-worthy. Hermione what do you think about the guys that just left?" Korven asked.
Through her shock, Hermione just blushed.
"She can't even speak," Asia laughed.
Hermione flushed with embarrassment.
"Don't worry love. I don't mean anything by it. But if those dogs can turn your head then someone needs to teach you the rules of the game Rita insists upon letting you play."
"Hermione. Those guys are some of the best womanizers that I have ever met in my life. The second we got to my room I listened to about fifteen minutes worth of talk about your hot ass. 'Nice tits, cute face too.' I've seen their victims and mine. We can get the smart ones almost more easily than the simple ones. Find a general interest, do a little homework and some witty banter and- bam! She's in the sack with her legs far enough apart for a jumbo jet to get in her. If she's good in bed, then she's a call back. If not, you'll see her crying her eyes out at some bar where she'll get banged again trying to forget about us. It's a fucking vicious cycle and it's easy to fall in if you're not careful. I'm offering, free of charge mind you, to make you virtually above the game. You're my little cousin. I don't want to see you like some of the girls that spend their nights calling out for me," Korven smirked.
"A 'player'?" she asked.
He had the decency to look affronted and mollified.
"My dear girl, don't be so vulgar!" he declared after his own obscenities.
"What I propose is that we make you is an expert in the field of adulation for the opposite sex."
"A thousand dollar combination of words for 'player' dear," Asia affirmed.
"Of course it's your choice," he said quickly.
"Go for it Hermione. I'm sure that there's some guy at that school of yours that just lives for challenges of the female persuasion. It'll give you a bit of a pet project while you're at school during the year," Asia pressed.
Hermione instantly thought of Malfoy. He was such a prat when they met, but he was becoming a very cultured and handsome man over the years. How long would it be until he started rutting around the school? If not already. Rita had shown her what a wonderful body she now possessed and had given her clothing to show it off without putting out. She confessed that a sexy and appropriate style of dress was difficult, but rewarding. By the time he found out who she was he'd be back on his old tangent of the taunting and name-calling. Or he'd be out for an unlikely conquest: her. She made up her mind then and there.
"Of course. I can learn a lot from such a master. Right?" she asked.
With a knowing smile Korven nodded to her.
The lessons had been interesting to say the least. But men were now only a small obscurity to her and no longer an enigma. Waking slowly from her daze, she realized that she had been in one spot for far too long. With so many men looking at her with such blatant lust, how would she get onto the platform without notice? It seemed impossible. But then opportunity came knocking. He was a tall and rather handsome young man that had been eyeing her for the past ten minutes. She smiled and he took this as a sign to come over. Hermione doubted that her 'come hither' essence would fail her. Dressed in a knee-length denim skirt and baby blue peasant top and black army boots, she could have been waving a pistol and asking him to come over to make the murder quick, he still would have come. He was very deep in 'I Want' mode. Korven had explained this as simply the phase where a person would do just about anything because they think they'll get a little. Or a lot. She smiled. There were many simple spells that didn't even need a wand. This was a perfect time to try one out.
"Hey, beautiful. Maybe I was wrong, but your smile just drew me over here. Can I do something for you?" he asked.
"Nhemara!" she whispered.
At once the hapless man walked away from her and began to dance while singing the alphabet. In the ensuing chaos, Hermione quickly disappeared through the portal. It was just a little spell. And perfectly harmless, though his ego may be a bit bruised later. The Ministry should let her be, if they could even track her. In a moment she faced the large scarlet steam engine. She couldn't help the smile that lit her face. Yes. It was time to go back. Back to Hogwarts. Back home.