AN: Harry Potter and his world are JK Rowling's. Not mine, no money for me, this is just for enjoyment.
Draco
Hermione Granger. How can anyone be so bloody perfect? Aside from the unfortunate issue of her blood, which even I now admit is of little consequence.
Top of the class, always a mark ahead of me. Actually more like ten marks ahead if you consider her average of 108 per cent. Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer marks given based on what's actually in the exam. The point is, she hasn't changed. Still the smartest witch of our generation, champion of the defenceless and ignored, firmly on the side of all that's light.
She's making a name for herself now. Started up a legal agency, charging the privileged and using the proceeds for worthy causes. I tried to apply for a job. I walked into her office, and she just stared for a moment.
She said, "Mr. Malfoy, I'm afraid we have no suitable vacancies available."
As was evident from the large flashing red 'VACANCIES' sign outside. Perhaps the Gryffindor colours there were more significant than I thought; Alicia Spinnet was hired a week later.
I even told her I'd be willing to volunteer, do paperwork or something. Getting a job is difficult when you're an ex-teen-Death-Eater from a well-known family of blood purist fanatics. I thought Granger, Champion Against Discrimination, might take pity. That was uncharacteristically optimistic of me. Obviously, I'm getting desperate for something to do.
Plan: Show Hermione Granger That Ex-Teen-Death-Eaters Are People Too, And Make Her Regret Her Hasty Dismissal Of Me. And go easy on the capital letters.
Okay. I had a little chat with Pansy. You might not think that would help, but Pansy had spoken to Padma Patil who'd spoken to Spinnet who (obviously) talks to Granger, and so I have highly reliable information on Granger's opinions of me.
Something along the lines of:
- Prejudiced
- Arrogant
- Rude
- Selfish
- Sadistic
- Cowardly
- A sorry excuse for a human being with no feelings of decency or any capability of doing anything unless there's something in it for himself.
Perhaps looking at my previous behaviour, these accusations are not unreasonable. But they're not correct either.
It was rather unprofessional of her to rant about me to Spinnet, who she'd just hired after turning me down. Pansy says she thought my application was an attempt to make a mockery of her and the company. So quick to believe the worst of me – I'm hurt, I truly am.
Anyway, I need to make her see differently. I need… a plan of action.
Step One: Show I'm not prejudiced but in fact extremely tolerant. Really.
So, I need to associate with people I'd normally say were beneath me. And convince her that I think we're all equals. It's a shame I can't just throw money at a few charities, but father did that too and in the end it's rather unconvincing. Also, there isn't that much left to throw.
Step Two: Think of a Step Two.
Progress with Step One: I heard from Blaise of this werewolf aid scheme which is distributing Wolfsbane each month. I've offered my services, and though they're somewhat suspicious of my motives (as is everyone, it gets tiring), they're also short-staffed. Apparently even the normal wizarding population are less than generous towards werewolves, not just selfish prejudiced bigots like myself. So I start under strict supervision next week, and hopefully they'll eventually trust me enough for the brewing. I always liked Potions.
And yesterday, we ventured into muggle London.
All I can say is those tube train things could do with an undetectable extension charm. Malfoys like their personal space to be respected. I held it together, unlike my great-great-great uncle Apus who tended to crucio anyone unexpectedly within a metre of him.
Blaise has taken up photography and insisted on photographing me every five minutes. Apparently just taking a photo of the Thames isn't good enough; the photo is simply incomplete without me. I resigned myself to my fate. It wasn't so bad once we got into the pub.
AN: Reviews are marvellous.
