Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, unfortunately for me. But I do own
Draco in my own little twisted world, hehe.
A/N: All right, um. . . um. . . This is my first fic, so please forgive me if it isn't any good. This story contains the D/H, R/H, and H/G ships, so if you don't like those ships, don't read the story! Also, this story is rated R for a reason. Don't say I didn't warn you. Here we go. . .
Golden rays of sunlight poured though Hermione Granger's window onto her blue, plush carpet, leaving dappled patches of light and shadow. She peacefully stirred in her sleep and opened both eyes very slowly. She knew she had awoken quite early, as the sun had barely just begun to creep over the large hill her window faced. She decided it best to get up anyway.
She was going to Diagon Alley today to purchase her school items. But inwardly she dreaded it.
You see, her family was on the verge of being in a financial crisis. This was happening because of two things: First of all, the small village near London they lived in was hit hard by its main source of employment shutting down. Most of the former workers at the factory had moved into London to find jobs and support their families. This had greatly decreased the population, as well as the number of patients that appeared at her parents' dentistry practice.
To make matters much, much worse, her father had lost a huge sum of money in some stupid, drunken bet. When she and her mother first heard the news, they were in complete and utter shock. It couldn't be true! Could it? How could such a smart, kind, responsible man do such a thing? Even he didn't know. And now they were all suffering from the consequences. This meant shabby secondhand robes and torn up old books, two things Hermione was definitely not used to, or looking forward to for that matter. And neither were what a prefect should have in her opinion. She imagined she might be called the "Poor Prefect".
'Stop it Hermione!' she mentally scolded herself, 'You're acting like a snob.'
Now she finally knew what Ron went through every year when it came to not having nice, new things. That reminded her that she would be seeing Ron and Harry today, as a matter of fact. Well, that was one good thing about going to Diagon Alley.
'Gosh, I haven't seen them since we got off the train last year,' she thought with a bit of surprise.
She would have seen them sooner at the Burrow, had she been able to go. However, she had been on holiday in France, before all the financial problems had occurred, when the letter with the invitation had arrived. She had come home to frustration that she had missed a visit with them. Both of them sent her letters asking why she didn't come. Ron's was a little longer than Harry's, and seemed to be a little more anxious too. She replied to both with apologies and explanations, as well as promises of "next time".
"Hermione! Are you up yet?" came her mother's voice from downstairs, breaking her train of thought.
"Yes Mother. I'll start getting ready now," she replied.
Two hours later, Hermione and her mother stood in front of the Leaky Cauldron, about to go inside. As they entered, Hermione stole a quick glance around the pub. There were a variety of people there, some in robes, some in muggle clothes. Hermione recognized a few of them, as she had seen them on some previous occasions when she had been there. Just then the back door creaked open, and none other than Draco Malfoy and his father stepped in.
He gave her a smarmy sort of sneer as he passed, which obviously reflected extreme dislike. But also some twisted form of approval which she had not expected at all. This was matched almost exactly by his father, but the sneer on his father's face held absolutely no trace of approval and something more than dislike. Possibly hate? As they exited through the front door, Hermione's mother turned to her and said shortly:
"Let's go. You don't want to keep your friends waiting, now do you?"
Once she had passed through the brick archway, Hermione took out the list with the names of books she was going to need. It was unusual for her to not know already, but since she had been feeling rather depressed about the fact that she would be getting used ones, she hadn't bothered. As she began to read, she widened her eyes in surprise and delight.
"Mother, you are not going to believe this. I already have all of these books!"
"Well that's great honey. This means we will only have to get you one pair of secondhand robes."
Hermione smiled. It was by sheer luck that she had read, as well as owned all the books she was going to need. One set of used robes was better than three. Maybe she wouldn't be the "Poor Prefect" after all.
After exchanging their muggle money for Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts at Gringotts, Hermione told her mother that she could get what she needed more quickly by herself, and she would see her around three at the Leaky Cauldron. Immediately after leaving Gringotts, Hermione made a mad dash for the secondhand robe shop.
"Why am I in such a rush to see him?" she questioned herself aloud, not noticing she had mistakenly said him instead of them.
She shrugged it off, and continued on her way. When she entered the robe shop, she was hit by the overwhelming scent of mildew and must, mingling together to create one awful smell.
"Can I help you?" asked the tall witch behind the counter.
Hermione whirled around, trying to spot the speaker. When she saw her, she replied:
"Yes, hello. I need one set of black school robes please."
"Follow me," the tall witch said curtly.
She led Hermione to section in the back, over which a sign that read "School Robes" in carved wooden lettering hung. The saleswitch studied Hemione for a moment, then pulled two sets of robes off the rack. They both looked like they would fit her. But one set was huge, and would probably hang on her like a drape, while the other looked as if it would be little too tight. She chose to try the smaller set on, praying she wouldn't have to buy the sack that they were calling robes. Fortunately for her, the smaller ones fit and didn't smell like mildew. She felt more like she was wearing some kind of dress when she tried them on, for they hugged her curves and outlined her figure. They weren't loose as robes should be. She paid the tall saleswitch and left the shop, hoping she would never again be subjected to that smell.
After that she went to Madam Malkin's for her new robes. This didn't take long, and she was only there for thirty minutes. She decided it was now about time she hunted down Ron and Harry. About an hour later, she saw them leaning against the window of Ollivander's, talking about Quidditch. No surprise there. She hurried up to them.
"I was looking for you guys for almost an hour!" she said in a very annoyed voice.
Harry replied, "Well it's nice to see you too Hermione!" as he swept her up in a huge bear hug.
As soon as Harry let her go she was in Ron's embrace, and his seemed to be a lot longer than Harry's.
"Let me go before you squeeze the life out of me!" she said in an exasperated tone.
"All right, all right!" Ron said as he let go of her. He seemed to regret it discreetly though. "So how was your summer?"
"Fine," she lied.
Then Harry broke in, "You'll never guess who we saw Herm! And boy did they look different!"
"Really? Who?"
"Neville Longbottom. He has a beard and mustache now!" said Ron excitedly.
"Are you serious?" Hermione asked, not believing what Ron had just said. Somehow she just could not imagine Neville with facial hair.
"Dead serious." he responded with a mischievous smile.
Harry began to speak, "Well, I guess that's normal. I mean people do change in appearance over time."
"Yeah," Hermione replied, "I saw Malfoy earlier today, and he looked really goo. . ."
She stopped herself.
"What did you say Hermione? Did you say he looked good?" Ron questioned in an angered tone with jealous eyes.
"No you git! I said he looked grungy!" she retorted.
"Right. Sorry." He uttered this very softly and seemed to have an air of embarrassment in his voice.
'Oh my God! I thought he looked good! Snap out of it Hermione!' she mentally slapped herself.
Speaking of how people looked, how did Ron and Harry look? She took a moment to find out. Ron had changed quite a lot. He was still pretty tall but his body wasn't long and lanky anymore. He was now well built, much like his brothers Bill and Charlie. His face had hardened and become more rugged, but still had an abundance of freckles. His hair was as red as ever, but somehow it suited him perfectly. Harry was still a bit short, but not shorter than Hermione herself. His face had that boyish sort of charm that most girls thought was very cute. He had a good upper body, obviously the result from years of Quidditch training. His piercing green eyes stood out from under the cover of his unruly black hair, but were still useless without glasses.
All of a sudden, Harry broke the silence that had been flowing between them with a loud shout announcing he was hungry and that they should go get something to eat. Ron and Hermione agreed, as they had started to become hungry too. So off they went on a quest for food.
"How did your day go?" Hermione's mother inquired while making a left-hand turn off the main road.
"It went fine," she replied absentmindedly while gazing out the window.
She was still pondering what she had said about Malfoy earlier, as well as the strange look he'd given her. She had said he was good looking! This was definitely a first. She'd always thought of him as a just spoiled little rich boy, never as an attractive member of the opposite sex! Yet he was, and there was no way around it.
A/N: You like? Well even if you don't, please review! I promise this story will get darker and darker as the chapters progress, and there will be some snogging featuring Hermione and Draco! Also, you will see why I have rated it R as well. Thanks so much for taking the time to read this if you've made it this far. It means a lot to me! Next chapter should be up relatively soon. Later. . .
A/N: All right, um. . . um. . . This is my first fic, so please forgive me if it isn't any good. This story contains the D/H, R/H, and H/G ships, so if you don't like those ships, don't read the story! Also, this story is rated R for a reason. Don't say I didn't warn you. Here we go. . .
Golden rays of sunlight poured though Hermione Granger's window onto her blue, plush carpet, leaving dappled patches of light and shadow. She peacefully stirred in her sleep and opened both eyes very slowly. She knew she had awoken quite early, as the sun had barely just begun to creep over the large hill her window faced. She decided it best to get up anyway.
She was going to Diagon Alley today to purchase her school items. But inwardly she dreaded it.
You see, her family was on the verge of being in a financial crisis. This was happening because of two things: First of all, the small village near London they lived in was hit hard by its main source of employment shutting down. Most of the former workers at the factory had moved into London to find jobs and support their families. This had greatly decreased the population, as well as the number of patients that appeared at her parents' dentistry practice.
To make matters much, much worse, her father had lost a huge sum of money in some stupid, drunken bet. When she and her mother first heard the news, they were in complete and utter shock. It couldn't be true! Could it? How could such a smart, kind, responsible man do such a thing? Even he didn't know. And now they were all suffering from the consequences. This meant shabby secondhand robes and torn up old books, two things Hermione was definitely not used to, or looking forward to for that matter. And neither were what a prefect should have in her opinion. She imagined she might be called the "Poor Prefect".
'Stop it Hermione!' she mentally scolded herself, 'You're acting like a snob.'
Now she finally knew what Ron went through every year when it came to not having nice, new things. That reminded her that she would be seeing Ron and Harry today, as a matter of fact. Well, that was one good thing about going to Diagon Alley.
'Gosh, I haven't seen them since we got off the train last year,' she thought with a bit of surprise.
She would have seen them sooner at the Burrow, had she been able to go. However, she had been on holiday in France, before all the financial problems had occurred, when the letter with the invitation had arrived. She had come home to frustration that she had missed a visit with them. Both of them sent her letters asking why she didn't come. Ron's was a little longer than Harry's, and seemed to be a little more anxious too. She replied to both with apologies and explanations, as well as promises of "next time".
"Hermione! Are you up yet?" came her mother's voice from downstairs, breaking her train of thought.
"Yes Mother. I'll start getting ready now," she replied.
Two hours later, Hermione and her mother stood in front of the Leaky Cauldron, about to go inside. As they entered, Hermione stole a quick glance around the pub. There were a variety of people there, some in robes, some in muggle clothes. Hermione recognized a few of them, as she had seen them on some previous occasions when she had been there. Just then the back door creaked open, and none other than Draco Malfoy and his father stepped in.
He gave her a smarmy sort of sneer as he passed, which obviously reflected extreme dislike. But also some twisted form of approval which she had not expected at all. This was matched almost exactly by his father, but the sneer on his father's face held absolutely no trace of approval and something more than dislike. Possibly hate? As they exited through the front door, Hermione's mother turned to her and said shortly:
"Let's go. You don't want to keep your friends waiting, now do you?"
Once she had passed through the brick archway, Hermione took out the list with the names of books she was going to need. It was unusual for her to not know already, but since she had been feeling rather depressed about the fact that she would be getting used ones, she hadn't bothered. As she began to read, she widened her eyes in surprise and delight.
"Mother, you are not going to believe this. I already have all of these books!"
"Well that's great honey. This means we will only have to get you one pair of secondhand robes."
Hermione smiled. It was by sheer luck that she had read, as well as owned all the books she was going to need. One set of used robes was better than three. Maybe she wouldn't be the "Poor Prefect" after all.
After exchanging their muggle money for Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts at Gringotts, Hermione told her mother that she could get what she needed more quickly by herself, and she would see her around three at the Leaky Cauldron. Immediately after leaving Gringotts, Hermione made a mad dash for the secondhand robe shop.
"Why am I in such a rush to see him?" she questioned herself aloud, not noticing she had mistakenly said him instead of them.
She shrugged it off, and continued on her way. When she entered the robe shop, she was hit by the overwhelming scent of mildew and must, mingling together to create one awful smell.
"Can I help you?" asked the tall witch behind the counter.
Hermione whirled around, trying to spot the speaker. When she saw her, she replied:
"Yes, hello. I need one set of black school robes please."
"Follow me," the tall witch said curtly.
She led Hermione to section in the back, over which a sign that read "School Robes" in carved wooden lettering hung. The saleswitch studied Hemione for a moment, then pulled two sets of robes off the rack. They both looked like they would fit her. But one set was huge, and would probably hang on her like a drape, while the other looked as if it would be little too tight. She chose to try the smaller set on, praying she wouldn't have to buy the sack that they were calling robes. Fortunately for her, the smaller ones fit and didn't smell like mildew. She felt more like she was wearing some kind of dress when she tried them on, for they hugged her curves and outlined her figure. They weren't loose as robes should be. She paid the tall saleswitch and left the shop, hoping she would never again be subjected to that smell.
After that she went to Madam Malkin's for her new robes. This didn't take long, and she was only there for thirty minutes. She decided it was now about time she hunted down Ron and Harry. About an hour later, she saw them leaning against the window of Ollivander's, talking about Quidditch. No surprise there. She hurried up to them.
"I was looking for you guys for almost an hour!" she said in a very annoyed voice.
Harry replied, "Well it's nice to see you too Hermione!" as he swept her up in a huge bear hug.
As soon as Harry let her go she was in Ron's embrace, and his seemed to be a lot longer than Harry's.
"Let me go before you squeeze the life out of me!" she said in an exasperated tone.
"All right, all right!" Ron said as he let go of her. He seemed to regret it discreetly though. "So how was your summer?"
"Fine," she lied.
Then Harry broke in, "You'll never guess who we saw Herm! And boy did they look different!"
"Really? Who?"
"Neville Longbottom. He has a beard and mustache now!" said Ron excitedly.
"Are you serious?" Hermione asked, not believing what Ron had just said. Somehow she just could not imagine Neville with facial hair.
"Dead serious." he responded with a mischievous smile.
Harry began to speak, "Well, I guess that's normal. I mean people do change in appearance over time."
"Yeah," Hermione replied, "I saw Malfoy earlier today, and he looked really goo. . ."
She stopped herself.
"What did you say Hermione? Did you say he looked good?" Ron questioned in an angered tone with jealous eyes.
"No you git! I said he looked grungy!" she retorted.
"Right. Sorry." He uttered this very softly and seemed to have an air of embarrassment in his voice.
'Oh my God! I thought he looked good! Snap out of it Hermione!' she mentally slapped herself.
Speaking of how people looked, how did Ron and Harry look? She took a moment to find out. Ron had changed quite a lot. He was still pretty tall but his body wasn't long and lanky anymore. He was now well built, much like his brothers Bill and Charlie. His face had hardened and become more rugged, but still had an abundance of freckles. His hair was as red as ever, but somehow it suited him perfectly. Harry was still a bit short, but not shorter than Hermione herself. His face had that boyish sort of charm that most girls thought was very cute. He had a good upper body, obviously the result from years of Quidditch training. His piercing green eyes stood out from under the cover of his unruly black hair, but were still useless without glasses.
All of a sudden, Harry broke the silence that had been flowing between them with a loud shout announcing he was hungry and that they should go get something to eat. Ron and Hermione agreed, as they had started to become hungry too. So off they went on a quest for food.
"How did your day go?" Hermione's mother inquired while making a left-hand turn off the main road.
"It went fine," she replied absentmindedly while gazing out the window.
She was still pondering what she had said about Malfoy earlier, as well as the strange look he'd given her. She had said he was good looking! This was definitely a first. She'd always thought of him as a just spoiled little rich boy, never as an attractive member of the opposite sex! Yet he was, and there was no way around it.
A/N: You like? Well even if you don't, please review! I promise this story will get darker and darker as the chapters progress, and there will be some snogging featuring Hermione and Draco! Also, you will see why I have rated it R as well. Thanks so much for taking the time to read this if you've made it this far. It means a lot to me! Next chapter should be up relatively soon. Later. . .