Well hi, world of fanfiction! It's been a while. For those of you who have read my other stories (Am I really the only one?), you'll know I have a Twilight fic. I don't plan on continuing it. Sorry. My muse kinda crapped out on me. Anyway, I'll stop boring you with this idle chatter. Let's roll.
Hermione Granger had a secret. Not a terribly bad secret, as secrets go. But not a silly secret like, "I hate spiders," or "I adore muggle romance novels." Both of which were true, by the way. Hermione hated Charms class. All of the material was old to an avid student like herself. There was no need to listen, or study, or take notes. It was all very stupid. However, it was all very required by Wizarding Law. Hating Charms class was hardly a secret. Nearly everyone hated Charms with a passion! Miss Granger's secret was something a bit more on the risque side.
During charms, Hermione liked to try her hand at writing her own set of raunchy romance novels. It wasn't hard to stay undetected. After all, Flitwick had decided to take a new approach to seating this year. Struggling students were placed further to the front of the room, to increase focus, and students doing quite well were seated closer to the back. Supposedly. This was all good and fine, but there was a downside, as a result of all this. Hermione was seated next to Draco Malfoy, and Harry and Ron were in the second row to the front. She wasn't about to sabotage her grades to be with her friends. Unfortunately, Ron and Harry were a little beyond her help at this point.
"What's that you're writing?" Draco said in a slightly muted tone to avoid detection by Fliwick's old ears.
"Nothing! Pay attention, Malfoy." she hissed at him, turning the beat up leather bound journal away from his prying eyes.
"Well you're not paying attention. Why should I?" he protested.
"I'm far smarter than you'll ever hope to be. Eyes forward, ferret."
"Well," he huffed, "I'm hurt!"
Hermione just rolled her eyes. His childish attempt at bickering needn't be dignified with a reply. Class ended quickly after that. Hermione set her book down for just a second to screw the lid tightly onto her favorite bottle of pitch black ink. The second after she'd set the poor little edition down, she knew it was a mistake. Draco pocketed the book, then shot Hermione a smug grin.
"I'll be gentle with your precious little diary. I promise." he whispered, then shuffled lazily into the crowd of students dragging themselves to lunch.
There was a sickening lurch in Hermione's stomach. She would not be going to lunch that day. Ditching the rest of the day and hanging out in the Three Broomsticks sounded fabulous. Her reputation could be shattered by Malfoy reading this. There was no point in trying to get it back now. He'd make a laughing stock of her! He'd make a laughing stock of her no matter what. All Hermione had to do was use a memory modifier. Though it might be legally questionable, it was entirely necessary. After all, there were things she'd rather the whole school didn't know she knew about.
Review. Do it now. Please. Hate it? Love it? Don't really care either way? Let me know. I allow anonymous reviews. Flames are welcome. I've been jonesin' for some nicely toasted marshmallows.