Legal Stuffers - I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters, yadda yadda, JK Rowling is the best, and I wish I ownzed her characters, but alas, I am only a lowly teenager with little imagination and a shortage of coffee.
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The first day of Hogwarts dawned damp and gray. Hermione Granger awoke unusually early, but with a stretch and a hug to the ginger cat Crookshanks, she felt totally awake.
"Go to bed, dear," The matronly-looking picture on the wall hummed sleepily. "It's much too early."
"Oh, shush, Morwena." The picture mumbled something that Hermione didn't catch and went back to sleep. The seventeen year old jumped out of bed right into her soft, fleece lined slippers, and headed to the wardrobe for her uniform and robes.
It was seventh year, the last year she'd ever come to the wonderful school. A pang of sadness at this realization got her stomach, but she brushed it away and resolved to make the best out of this year. Who knows, maybe she'd even try to make friends with Malfoy.
Haha, how funny! Her, get along with Malfoy! Yeah, right. Hermione hated having grudges against people, but the arrogant, foul-mouthed Slytherin with stabbing eyes was just insufferable.
"No way," She thought to herself, "I am NOT going to ruin the first morning with thoughts of that blond bastard." She instead thought of the Burrow, where she had spent most of the summer with Ron and Harry, where she watched them play rather violent games of Quidditch in the paddock and gossipped with Ginny.
In those two months, Ginny and Harry had tried to work out some sort of relationship, but it had failed miserably. Harry commanded the attention of nearly half of the female population of Hogwarts, (Malfoy the other half), and Ginny couldn't really come to terms with that. Hermione knew that Harry wouldn't be able to settle down for a long time, and although he really felt something for Ginny, his emerald eyes followed women everywhere.
She laughed at this when she came down from her Head Girl chamber (How lovely to have a bedroom all to herself, even if the first and second years were a handful) to see Harry and Lavender 'greeting' each other. They seemed attached at the lip and had wound their arms around each other.
Harry, seeing Hermione grinning amusedly at the spectacle, all thoughts of Lavender were pushed out of his mind and he got up, not paying attention to the angry "Hey!" that came from the floor. Hermione was envied by Harry's little club of adorers, because she would always come before them. And that's how it was with Harry.
"Hermione! Good morning! Have you seen Ron?" his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were shining. Lavender gave a little "Hmph!" down on the floor.
She stifled a laugh. "Nope. Must be still sleeping."
"Well, I'm frigging starving. I'm gonna go wake him up, and we'll go." he ran up the steps two at a time.
Hermione looked at Lavender, who was pouting. "That's just how he is, Lavender. And you know it."
"Yeah..." she sighed resignedly. "I still wish he wasn't, though."
Soon the sleepy, yawning Ron, being dragged down the cold stone steps by his rambunctious best friend, stumbled into the common room and grabbed one of the plump chairs for balance. After some happy greetings, they climbed out of the portrait hole and headed for the Great Hall.
It was still early, so there weren't as many people lining the long tables, but Hermione liked it that way. Promptly, she opened her Potions book and propped it up, studying the Wolfsbane Potion that Snape had brewed Remus in third year.
Harry, in extremely high spirits now that he was free from the prison located at 4 Privet Drive, flicked some cold pumpkin juice at Ron, who futilely tried to block it. In retaliation, the groggy redhead just dumped the whole of his glass on Harry's head.
"Oi!!" he cried angrily. She heard a rumble of laughter from the Slytherins.
Hoping to avoid the coming spat, Hermione murmured a simple drying spell for his hair, and successfully put out the flame of testosterone in him. Ron stuck his tongue out.
Then, she heard a familiar voice.
"Why, Pansy, I couldn't agree more. That's one of the most intelligent things you've ever come up with." it was an arrogant drawl, one that had deepened with Draco's maturing. Hermione shot a look at him, to which he winked and then flipped up an offending finger. Pansy didn't seem to notice and brought his head in for a long kiss.
"Bastard." she murmured. She would never wish death on anyone, but sometimes she just wished he'd leave and never come back.
"I know. He'll get his one of these days." Ron took a bite of sausage.
"Yep, like when I kill his sonofabitch Leader." Harry said with a low rumbling of anger, stabbing his fork into a biscuit.
"He's a Death Eater now, I presume." Ron went on, not hearing what Harry had said, or at least pretending to ignore it. Ron was by nature a generally caring, goodhearted guy, and didn't really like the idea of killing what once was the most powerful wizard in the world.
Hermione studied the back of his perfectly combed head through the sea of people, and attempted to look at his left arm. A flash of pale white skin...but no Mark. Not yet.
"I don't think so, Ron. The Dark Mark isn't there." Hermione said.
They all shrugged and went on with breakfast.
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"Double-fucking-Potions with none other than those slimy snake bastards, first thing in the morning. Wonderful." Ron muttered.
"It's a Monday, too." Harry added.
"Oh you guys, chill, just think of getting good grades and getting through the year. Don't bother with the Slytherins."
"Good old Hermione, mentioning our grades. Don't worry about it."
Snape looked overtly upset today, and there was an edge to his voice when he ordered them to open their books and begin brewing the Wolfsbane potion. After about forty five minutes and many discouraging remarks toward Neville, he went into his office for something.
"Funny, how Longbottom is so abysmally dreadful in Potions, yet still keeps trying. What's the use? You'll never get it right, y'know." Malfoy snickered with Crabbe and Goyle.
Neville sighed ignoring his tormenter, and Hermione gave him a few tips on the potion. Then, turning back to Malfoy, she said, "Bugger off, Malfoy. It's none of your business."
"YOU bugger off, Mudblood." he spat.
"Make me."
"I could make you do lots of things." He smiled evilly and licked his lips.
"Yeah, right." She turned around and stirred her potion a little harder than normal. Her cheeks had flushed at the innuendo. Draco was pleased to see that he had hit a nerve somewhere in that long, wavy hair of hers, and smiled to himself, looking her over.
The Mudblood had grown in the years they had been at Hogwarts. The bushy hair had thankfully smoothened out a bit, just falling in golden brown waves down her back. She had eyes the color of the best Honeydukes chocolate. Even if she was Muggle-born, she could definitely beat some of the wizard girls he'd trysted with. Not only physically, but brain-wise as well.
It was unanimous among most of the males that Hermione had the best legs in the school. Not too pale, not too tanned or muscled. Just right. And her shirts fit rather nicely, too. Add to that her marvelous intelligence, and even for a Mudblood she was appealing.
Draco shook his head, beat himself up mentally for thinking that way about one of his enemies, and focused on a cold shower for a while.
Hermione looked into the whirling depths of her potion. No matter how much she disliked Malfoy, she knew what the other girls saw in him. He had stormy gray eyes that told of past sorrows and were filled with anger and longing. Quidditch had made his body much like Harry's - lithe and toned, and she heard that he had a six pack to die for. Sometimes he gave up that awful gel and let his platinum hair go loose, and she had to admit that with a few runaway strands of hair hanging rakishly in his face, he looked very, very handsome.
She couldn't stand when he opened those perfect pale lips of his, though. Whatever delusion you may get by looking at the fallen angel, it was shattered once he spake his judgement on you and ladled on a few rude comments for good measure. Malfoy, in her mind, was a beautiful thing rotting from some terrible secret inside. She knew that things at his Manor got ugly, and that his own father had used some of the unforgivable curses on him. For that, she felt nearly inclined to pity him. Nearly.
The end of the double class finally arrived, and Neville hugged her tightly when Snape pronounced his potion "Nearly acceptable". Harry and Ron decided to go meet a few girls (No doubt Lavender and Parvati) between classes, so she headed up the stairs for Arithmancy.
Unfortunately, Malfoy was also in that class, and so he followed her.
"Nice thong, Hermione. It suits you." He grinned, looking up her skirt.
Silently, she cursed herself for taking what she thought was a safe walk on the wild side, and resolved to never let Malfoy go up the stairs after her. "You're such a pervert, Malfoy. I should give you detention."
"You can't. I'm Head Boy."
Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. She couldn't even punish him. It wasn't considered proper, as Head Boy and Girl should know how to behave. Fat chance with Malfoy, she thought.
He smirked and, catching up to her, casually slid two long, elegant fingers into her bag and pulled out her wand.
"Hey! Give it back!" she reached out for it, but the quick reflexes of a Seeker held it out of reach.
"You didn't say the magic word." he taunted, a haughty smirk on his face.
"Now." she seethed.
"That's not the right one." he teased more. "Get it wrong again and I may have to punish you."
"Oh yeah? I'm Head Girl, you've forgotten."
"Oh, darling little Mudblood, I was thinking of a different punishment."
A flush went to her cheeks again, and she tried to convince herself it was out of anger at being called a Mudblood. But deep down, she knew it wasn't. "Give me my wand, right fucking now."
"Ohh, I love when you talk dirty, Granger." he waggled the wand in his fingers.
i know, it's horrible...any suggestions?
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The first day of Hogwarts dawned damp and gray. Hermione Granger awoke unusually early, but with a stretch and a hug to the ginger cat Crookshanks, she felt totally awake.
"Go to bed, dear," The matronly-looking picture on the wall hummed sleepily. "It's much too early."
"Oh, shush, Morwena." The picture mumbled something that Hermione didn't catch and went back to sleep. The seventeen year old jumped out of bed right into her soft, fleece lined slippers, and headed to the wardrobe for her uniform and robes.
It was seventh year, the last year she'd ever come to the wonderful school. A pang of sadness at this realization got her stomach, but she brushed it away and resolved to make the best out of this year. Who knows, maybe she'd even try to make friends with Malfoy.
Haha, how funny! Her, get along with Malfoy! Yeah, right. Hermione hated having grudges against people, but the arrogant, foul-mouthed Slytherin with stabbing eyes was just insufferable.
"No way," She thought to herself, "I am NOT going to ruin the first morning with thoughts of that blond bastard." She instead thought of the Burrow, where she had spent most of the summer with Ron and Harry, where she watched them play rather violent games of Quidditch in the paddock and gossipped with Ginny.
In those two months, Ginny and Harry had tried to work out some sort of relationship, but it had failed miserably. Harry commanded the attention of nearly half of the female population of Hogwarts, (Malfoy the other half), and Ginny couldn't really come to terms with that. Hermione knew that Harry wouldn't be able to settle down for a long time, and although he really felt something for Ginny, his emerald eyes followed women everywhere.
She laughed at this when she came down from her Head Girl chamber (How lovely to have a bedroom all to herself, even if the first and second years were a handful) to see Harry and Lavender 'greeting' each other. They seemed attached at the lip and had wound their arms around each other.
Harry, seeing Hermione grinning amusedly at the spectacle, all thoughts of Lavender were pushed out of his mind and he got up, not paying attention to the angry "Hey!" that came from the floor. Hermione was envied by Harry's little club of adorers, because she would always come before them. And that's how it was with Harry.
"Hermione! Good morning! Have you seen Ron?" his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were shining. Lavender gave a little "Hmph!" down on the floor.
She stifled a laugh. "Nope. Must be still sleeping."
"Well, I'm frigging starving. I'm gonna go wake him up, and we'll go." he ran up the steps two at a time.
Hermione looked at Lavender, who was pouting. "That's just how he is, Lavender. And you know it."
"Yeah..." she sighed resignedly. "I still wish he wasn't, though."
Soon the sleepy, yawning Ron, being dragged down the cold stone steps by his rambunctious best friend, stumbled into the common room and grabbed one of the plump chairs for balance. After some happy greetings, they climbed out of the portrait hole and headed for the Great Hall.
It was still early, so there weren't as many people lining the long tables, but Hermione liked it that way. Promptly, she opened her Potions book and propped it up, studying the Wolfsbane Potion that Snape had brewed Remus in third year.
Harry, in extremely high spirits now that he was free from the prison located at 4 Privet Drive, flicked some cold pumpkin juice at Ron, who futilely tried to block it. In retaliation, the groggy redhead just dumped the whole of his glass on Harry's head.
"Oi!!" he cried angrily. She heard a rumble of laughter from the Slytherins.
Hoping to avoid the coming spat, Hermione murmured a simple drying spell for his hair, and successfully put out the flame of testosterone in him. Ron stuck his tongue out.
Then, she heard a familiar voice.
"Why, Pansy, I couldn't agree more. That's one of the most intelligent things you've ever come up with." it was an arrogant drawl, one that had deepened with Draco's maturing. Hermione shot a look at him, to which he winked and then flipped up an offending finger. Pansy didn't seem to notice and brought his head in for a long kiss.
"Bastard." she murmured. She would never wish death on anyone, but sometimes she just wished he'd leave and never come back.
"I know. He'll get his one of these days." Ron took a bite of sausage.
"Yep, like when I kill his sonofabitch Leader." Harry said with a low rumbling of anger, stabbing his fork into a biscuit.
"He's a Death Eater now, I presume." Ron went on, not hearing what Harry had said, or at least pretending to ignore it. Ron was by nature a generally caring, goodhearted guy, and didn't really like the idea of killing what once was the most powerful wizard in the world.
Hermione studied the back of his perfectly combed head through the sea of people, and attempted to look at his left arm. A flash of pale white skin...but no Mark. Not yet.
"I don't think so, Ron. The Dark Mark isn't there." Hermione said.
They all shrugged and went on with breakfast.
*******************
"Double-fucking-Potions with none other than those slimy snake bastards, first thing in the morning. Wonderful." Ron muttered.
"It's a Monday, too." Harry added.
"Oh you guys, chill, just think of getting good grades and getting through the year. Don't bother with the Slytherins."
"Good old Hermione, mentioning our grades. Don't worry about it."
Snape looked overtly upset today, and there was an edge to his voice when he ordered them to open their books and begin brewing the Wolfsbane potion. After about forty five minutes and many discouraging remarks toward Neville, he went into his office for something.
"Funny, how Longbottom is so abysmally dreadful in Potions, yet still keeps trying. What's the use? You'll never get it right, y'know." Malfoy snickered with Crabbe and Goyle.
Neville sighed ignoring his tormenter, and Hermione gave him a few tips on the potion. Then, turning back to Malfoy, she said, "Bugger off, Malfoy. It's none of your business."
"YOU bugger off, Mudblood." he spat.
"Make me."
"I could make you do lots of things." He smiled evilly and licked his lips.
"Yeah, right." She turned around and stirred her potion a little harder than normal. Her cheeks had flushed at the innuendo. Draco was pleased to see that he had hit a nerve somewhere in that long, wavy hair of hers, and smiled to himself, looking her over.
The Mudblood had grown in the years they had been at Hogwarts. The bushy hair had thankfully smoothened out a bit, just falling in golden brown waves down her back. She had eyes the color of the best Honeydukes chocolate. Even if she was Muggle-born, she could definitely beat some of the wizard girls he'd trysted with. Not only physically, but brain-wise as well.
It was unanimous among most of the males that Hermione had the best legs in the school. Not too pale, not too tanned or muscled. Just right. And her shirts fit rather nicely, too. Add to that her marvelous intelligence, and even for a Mudblood she was appealing.
Draco shook his head, beat himself up mentally for thinking that way about one of his enemies, and focused on a cold shower for a while.
Hermione looked into the whirling depths of her potion. No matter how much she disliked Malfoy, she knew what the other girls saw in him. He had stormy gray eyes that told of past sorrows and were filled with anger and longing. Quidditch had made his body much like Harry's - lithe and toned, and she heard that he had a six pack to die for. Sometimes he gave up that awful gel and let his platinum hair go loose, and she had to admit that with a few runaway strands of hair hanging rakishly in his face, he looked very, very handsome.
She couldn't stand when he opened those perfect pale lips of his, though. Whatever delusion you may get by looking at the fallen angel, it was shattered once he spake his judgement on you and ladled on a few rude comments for good measure. Malfoy, in her mind, was a beautiful thing rotting from some terrible secret inside. She knew that things at his Manor got ugly, and that his own father had used some of the unforgivable curses on him. For that, she felt nearly inclined to pity him. Nearly.
The end of the double class finally arrived, and Neville hugged her tightly when Snape pronounced his potion "Nearly acceptable". Harry and Ron decided to go meet a few girls (No doubt Lavender and Parvati) between classes, so she headed up the stairs for Arithmancy.
Unfortunately, Malfoy was also in that class, and so he followed her.
"Nice thong, Hermione. It suits you." He grinned, looking up her skirt.
Silently, she cursed herself for taking what she thought was a safe walk on the wild side, and resolved to never let Malfoy go up the stairs after her. "You're such a pervert, Malfoy. I should give you detention."
"You can't. I'm Head Boy."
Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. She couldn't even punish him. It wasn't considered proper, as Head Boy and Girl should know how to behave. Fat chance with Malfoy, she thought.
He smirked and, catching up to her, casually slid two long, elegant fingers into her bag and pulled out her wand.
"Hey! Give it back!" she reached out for it, but the quick reflexes of a Seeker held it out of reach.
"You didn't say the magic word." he taunted, a haughty smirk on his face.
"Now." she seethed.
"That's not the right one." he teased more. "Get it wrong again and I may have to punish you."
"Oh yeah? I'm Head Girl, you've forgotten."
"Oh, darling little Mudblood, I was thinking of a different punishment."
A flush went to her cheeks again, and she tried to convince herself it was out of anger at being called a Mudblood. But deep down, she knew it wasn't. "Give me my wand, right fucking now."
"Ohh, I love when you talk dirty, Granger." he waggled the wand in his fingers.
i know, it's horrible...any suggestions?