Disclaimer: no copyright infringement intended, no profits being made: this is only for fun.
AN: I have written this quite some time ago, before I even started writing on 'To save a Malfoy'. I had this idea of using the HP characters in a plotline resembling my favorite book of all time, Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice' I know I should be ashamed of myself, for not only borrowing JK Rowling's characters, but also stealing Jane Austen's plotline… But, I am not ;-) Actually, I rather liked the idea and am starting to warm up to it again. The main characters will be our lovely know-it-all Gryffindor Miss Hermione Granger and the sarcastic, yet gorgeous prince of Slytherin Mr. Draco Malfoy.
To anyone who takes the trouble of reading this: please let me know what you think of it and whether or not I should continue. I would be most grateful for your response.
Below, you will find the first chapter, in which we meet our main characters boarding the Hogwarts Express and they get off to a good start….
Truths universally acknowledged
Leap of faith
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a good-looking, adolescent male with atrociously rich parents, must be in want of countless admirers singing his praise on a daily basis. So ingrained this truth was in the minds of all people hovering around Draco Malfoy on platform 9 ¾ of King's Cross station in London, that not one of them, for one single moment doubted that excessive flattery was his due, least of all Draco Malfoy himself.
The slight lull in the conversations around him as he appeared through the barrier separating platforms 9 and 10 barely registered in his mind. On the other hand, had the excited exclamations and happy reunions that made up the better part of boarding the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of every school year continued, without slowing down or growing quiet if even for just a couple of moments, the heir to the Malfoy estate would most definitely have noticed…and not been pleased.
But his fellow students were most obliging in noticing the tall, silver-haired wizard in his expensive robes, even though most of them had shared dinners with him in the great Hall of Hogwarts for at least one year. Although the better part of the non-Slytherins didn't particularly like the haughty pureblood, there was just something about Draco Malfoy that rendered it impossible for him not to be noticed.
The anxious first-years, who of course had the pleasure of seeing his aristocratic figure for the first time, fell completely silent and some of them were downright gaping at him like goldfish outside of their bowls. And frankly, who could blame them. For all that might be wrong with him, Malfoy was a sight to be seen.
His pale, silvery blond hair almost reached his shoulders now and surrounded a face that was actually quite handsome, in shiny, silky strands. His features were aristocratic and refined and the skin pure and unblemished. With the subtlest hint of pink on his cheekbones, it almost seemed translucent, like the glow of a beautiful moonstone. His eyes were of the lightest gray and sometimes had a silvery gleam to them, as if nature wanted to complement the silver in his hair. He was tall and well-built; his clothes well-cut and probably more costly than the tuition fee for Hogwarts for the Weasley family. In his manner there was elegance and impeccable taste.
"I am certain Slytherin will win the Quidditch cup this year," declared a dark-haired witch, hovering at Malfoy's side, looking up at him with adoration in her eyes. "How could our team loose with such a captain?"
"Of course we will win," he confirmed self-assuredly, "this year that annoying brat Potter and that half-cocked Weasley friend of his are not going to win another game by stumbling over the snitch by accident."
The group around him snickered and nodded their assent.
"They're no match for you, Draco," the dark-haired witch said.
A bit further down the platform, Hermione Granger was listening to the excited stories of Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. 'Really, for having spent almost the entire holidays together, they sure have a lot to say,' Hermione thought slightly irritated. Lavender and Parvati's conversational skills were somewhat limited in her views. Limited as in there were only three possible topics: boys, make-up and more boys. For the more intellectual Hermione their conversation was mostly boring her out of her wits within five minutes and today was no exception. Her mind had started wandering off to the schedule she had to devise to keep on top of her schoolwork, when her attention was drawn back to the two girls, who were suddenly squealing in delight.
"Oh my god, he's even more gorgeous than he was last year!" Lavender said in a hushed tone.
Parvati nodded vigorously. "I know what you mean! There should be laws against looking that good!" she complained.
Hermione turned, to follow the twin gazes, but all she saw was a group of Slytherins, Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson in the middle. Her brow furrowed in confusion. Maybe they were talking about Blaise Zabini? He was tall and dark-haired, with brilliant blue eyes and the only one of the males surrounding the king and queen of Slytherin that could be considered handsome. She strongly suspected that even in Lavender and Parvati's hormone-clouded judgement Crabbe or Goyle wouldn't pass as very attractive.
She turned back to them only to find them swooning and practically drooling. Exasperatedly she rolled her eyes at them.
"Really, Blaise isn't that handsome," she huffed at them.
Abruptly their eyes focused on Hermione.
"Who's talking about Blaise?" Parvati demanded, with an air that Hermione would have been proud of when she would have been explaining something really obvious to Harry or Ron.
"Yeah," Lavender repeated, the dreamy look reappearing in her eyes, "Who's talking about Blaise?"
"Then who…" Hermione began, glancing over her shoulder once more.
"Malfoy, of course!" Parvati interrupted her impatiently.
"Malfoy?" Hermione exclaimed, only to be hushed immediately by the other two.
"Malfoy?" she repeated, in a quiet voice now. "You think Malfoy's handsome?"
The girls were looking at her with twin looks of extreme confusion. For once, they seemed at a loss for words. Hermione, who was at the receiving end of their unwavering scrutiny, was beginning to feel decidedly uncomfortable.
"What?" she asked nervously, looking from one to the other.
Parvati and Lavender exchanged a glance and, as if having come to an agreement both grabbed Hermione by her arm and twisted her around.
"Just look at him," Parvati instructed, hovering over Hermione's right shoulder, speaking softly.
Not having much choice in the matter, Hermione obliged. And for the first time she looked at Draco Malfoy, her best friends' (and her own) nemesis, as if he were someone she had just seen in the street. To her utter amazement, she had to admit, he didn't look half bad.
"Okay, okay," she muttered, "he's not so bad."
"Not so bad?" said Parvati indignantly, "look at that face: it's like a Grecian statue! And that hair! Have you ever seen anyone with hair like that?"
Hermione had half a mind of saying something about Lucius Malfoy, but thought better of it.
"And look at his body," Lavender took over, "one more reason you just have to love Quidditch!"
Parvati practically moaned her assent.
Hermione turned her back on Malfoy and his gang again, grinning at the two dribbling beauty-queens.
"Come on you guys, this is Malfoy we're talking about!" she grinned, "He's not even nice. And he hates Gryffindor! He's a Slytherin, for god's sakes! Have you forgotten all the nasty things he's done over the years?"
Lavender and Parvati looked at Hermione in confusion again.
"What's that got to do with anything?"
"He doesn't have to be nice, to be cute."
"And he's damn cute!"
"Nice ass too," Lavender added as an afterthought.
"Mm-mm" Parvati agreed with a blissful expression on her face.
Hermione burst out laughing. Really! Okay, so Malfoy was more or less handsome, but his character was enough to drive any woman insane within ten minutes! Well… she thought of Pansy's exaggerated adoration… any woman with half a brain, anyway.
At that exact moment a whistle sounded, signaling that the train would be leaving soon. All around them, students waved hasty goodbyes to their parents, dragged their heavy trunks on board and found a nice empty compartment for themselves and their friends.
Hermione dragged her trunk, which was probably even heavier than those of the other students, because of all the books she had crammed into it, to the nearest door. Struggling to haul it up and onto the train, she felt her face getting warm and small beads of sweat forming on her forehead. 'Merlin, I wish I was allowed to practice magic outside of Hogwarts yet,' she thought. It would have been so easy to just levitate the trunk onto the train.
"Hurry up, Mudblood, you're blocking our way," a voice drawled.
Hermione stopped her attempts to drag her belongings up the steps to send one of her death-glares at its owner. He stared back at her with a bored, almost blank expression on his face, his grey eyes as cold as ice.
No matter what Parvati and Lavender said, there was nothing attractive in Draco Malfoy as far as she was concerned. In a superficial way he may be considered handsome, but his character was enough to ruin that advantage about twenty times and then some.
She resumed her pulling on the trunk and prayed that this time it would actually move upwards, especially now that Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins were watching her, doing their best to annoy the hell out of her and succeeding admirably in their goal.
To her utter dismay, her trunk didn't move an inch from its place.
"What's wrong, Mudblood," Malfoy taunted, smirking, "pack the whole library in there?"
On cue, the Slytherins grinned and guffawed at his joke. Hermione was seething. She gave the trunk a furious jerk and when it actually moved upward, it caught her so much by surprise that the momentum (although succeeding in hauling the monstrous weight on the Express at last) caused her to fall over backwards, landing inelegantly and quite painfully on her behind.
As was to be expected, this caused the Slytherins to burst into hysterical laughter. Pansy Parkinson sounded like a bloody hyena, Hermione thought murderously.
"Maybe you should have helped her, Draco," she hiccupped, "it would have gotten her out of the way faster!" then she and the rest of their gang burst into laughter again. While Hermione amused herself with looking daggers at her from her prone position, Draco calmly ascended the steps leading onto the train.
"If it had been anyone from our house, it would have been unforgivably rude to not help them," he commented levelly, "but there's nothing that would tempt me to help this… Mudblood." The last word was said contemptuously and he wrinkled his nose as if something extraordinarily nasty was under it, before stepping over Hermione as if she were nothing but some filth on the floor, holding his deep-blue robes, careful not to let them touch her.
In utter humiliation, Hermione waited till the Slytherins had all boarded the train and passed her in search of an empty compartment (or one filled with first-years would-be Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws or Gryffindors they could scare away). She was seething, boiling with rage, livid and burning with indignation. Already her mind was making up the most murderous revenge acts to be plotted against Malfoy. She imagined hexing him with every curse she knew and promised herself that as soon as she had unpacked, she would go to the library and find some more. And where the hell had Harry and Ron been? They had boarded the train early, in search of an empty compartment when the mindless chatter of Lavender and Parvati had bored them and she hadn't seen them since. Knowing them, they'd already be engrossed in a game of wizard's chess or discussing Quidditch... again.
Carefully she brushed off some of the dirt on her clothes and was about to push herself from the floor of the now moving train, when someone extended a hand to her. Surprised she looked up to find Blaise Zabini looking down on her. Immediately her eyes narrowed in suspicion and she proceeded to push herself up, ignoring his hand. A sudden movement of the train however, caused her to lose her balance and if it hadn't been for Zabini's quick reflexes, she'd have fallen to the floor once again.
Wearily she let him help her up. Standing on her feet again, she still had to look up to him, due to his considerable height.
She searched his face for any sign of deceit, wondering why he was helping her. He just waited, looking her straight in the eye and though his expression was blank, his blue eyes didn't seem to be hiding anything at the moment.
"Thank you," Hermione said softly, but clearly.
Blaise inclined his head in acknowledgement in an oddly formal gesture.
Hermione looked at her trunk, trying to decide if it was worth the trouble to drag it to whatever compartment Harry and Ron were in. She could of course leave it here, the house elves would probably find it anyway and bring it to her dormitory. But it might be inconvenient to leave it here….
The prospect of having to drag her trunk halfway through the train was not exactly appealing however.
"If you find out which compartment your friends are in, I'll help you carry your trunk there," Blaise offered politely.
Hermione looked at him again, in spite of herself searching for any sign of a hidden agenda.
Blaise sighed, waiting, again for her to ascertain that he was serious and make up her mind. Somehow it was strangely unnerving to be able to look a Slytherin in the eye, Hermione thought.
"We're not all like Malfoy, you know."
Hermione smiled. "You are right, I'm sorry." She extended her hand to him and he shook it, grasping her hand firmly, but not too tight. He had a very pleasant handshake and Hermione decided to take a leap of faith…
A big one.
She was going to trust a Slytherin.
"I would appreciate it if you would help me with my trunk," she said, "Let me go find Harry and Ron."
"Stupid git," Ron muttered, shuffling in his comfortable seat in one of the compartments of the Hogwarts Express. "Next time we have a match, I'll make sure he gets hit by a bludger!"
Hermione smiled, knowing full well, that part of his vehemence was caused by the fact that he felt guilty that he and Harry had not been there to help her when Malfoy was giving her trouble. And, truth be told, she hadn't been very pleased with them when it happened, but Blaise helping her with her trunk and Harry and Ron's indignation on her behalf had done a world of good to her temper.
Besides, the absolutely baffled, open-mouthed stares Blaise had gotten from them, when he had delivered her trunk were a sight she wouldn't forget too easily. The Slytherin had taken it remarkably well. He'd said that he hoped she had sustained no permanent...eh...damage from the incident and Hermione had the distinct impression that he was not just referring to her not-so-planned closer inspection of the train's floor. When she had assured him she was fine and thanked him again for his help, he had simply replied that it had been his pleasure.
Without thinking she had blurted out: "You won't get in trouble with the Slytherins…? For helping me… I mean…" she'd trailed off at the amused smirk that had appeared on his face, strangely reminiscent of Draco Malfoy's usual facial expression, with the exception of the fact that Blaise's eyes had a glint of humor to them.
"I told you we're not all like Draco Malfoy, but I am a Slytherin," he'd said lightly, before nodding to them all and leaving the compartment.
Of course, as soon as the door had slid closed behind him, Harry, Ginny and Ron had bombarded her with questions of what happened and she gave them a brief account of what had transpired between her and the Slytherins. Harry and Ron both had apologized for not thinking of her trunk, but she had told them to think nothing of it. After assuring them repeatedly that she was just fine and perfectly capable of handling Malfoy on her own, she managed to convince them they did not need to feel guilty about the incident. After having established this much, there was nothing left to do really, but plan well-deserved revenge on the pale-faced snob.
"Ron, I hardly think hitting Malfoy with a bludger is going to do you much good; you'll get into trouble!" Hermione said.
"It would do him a world of good!"
"Honestly Ron," Hermione said exasperatedly, "do you think it'll help either of us if you get expelled? Malfoy would be hysterical with laughter!"
"It might be worth it," Ron muttered, arms crossed, his lanky frame slouched in his chair, staring sullenly at the floor in front of him.
"I agree the prat needs a lesson," Harry said heatedly. "Honestly, when is he going to get off of this Mudblood-act of his?"
"Harry, don't you start as well! Really, I don't care what the stupid pureblooded brat thinks."
"Thanks, Hermione."
"No offence." Hermione quickly amended, realizing belatedly her three friends all were purebloods.
"None taken," Ron said sardonically, then grinned at her blush.
"But, seriously," Hermione continued, "I couldn't care less what Malfoy's opinion of me is. Actually, I feel sorry for him."
Ron shot up at that last statement, looking at her as if she had grown two heads.
"You feel SORRY for him?"
The bushy-haired witch laughed heartily, before explaining.
"Just think about it: his father raised him to believe he's better than all of us. Better than me because he's pureblooded and I'm not. Better than you – nodding at Ron and Ginny –because he's rich and you're not. And better than you…" she looked at Harry, trailing off
"Well, I think with you he's just jealous," she winked at him. "And you have the wrong friends of course!" Harry grinned, clearly not agreeing with that last statement.
"But what I mean is: does he have real friends? With all his riches, does he know any people he can truly trust? And even though his father is a very influential man, do you think he loves Malfoy?"
"Never thought of it that way," Ron confessed.
"Neither did I," said Harry.
"Well, all that doesn't change the fact that he behaves like an utter jerk all the time," Hermione added for good measure.
"And that it really would be nothing more than his due if someone decided to hex him into next week!" Ginny, who had up until now been silent, added.
"Totally!" Hermione agreed, laughing.
Relief flooded Ron's features. "For a moment you got me worried you were actually starting to like him," he teased her.
Hermione swatted his arm. "Insult my intelligence some more, why don't you!"
"So you'll hex him into oblivion?" Ron asked hopefully.
His friend rolled her eyes at him. "I have no wish of getting myself expelled, either!"
"Oh, come on, Hermione," Ron begged, "You know you could do it. You're a very good witch."
"Maybe you could turn him into a toad, like the witches in Muggle stories always do," Ginny joked.
"Or do something that'd really embarrass him with his Slytherin buddies," Ron added enthusiastically, "like turn his hair Gryffindor-red the next time Slytherin plays against us in Quidditch."
"Send him a fake owl in which his father tells him he has been disinherited and watch him go berserk over breakfast," Ginny giggled.
"Spread rumors about him secretly being the chairman of the Association for Enhancement of Muggle-born Pureblood Relations," Harry said, catching on.
They burst out laughing.
"Imagine what his father would say if he ever heard that," Hermione hiccupped.
"I don't think turning him into a toad will make much of a difference, by the way," said Harry just as they had all quieted down a bit, causing them all to start laughing again.
"Oh, I think Parvati and Lavender would disagree with you on that one, Harry!"
"What do you mean?"
"They seem to think Malfoy's hot!"
Harry stared at her, his green eyes large in disbelief.
"They were drooling all over him, when we saw him on the platform, because they think he's cute," she informed him happily.
"Cute? MALFOY?" Ron spluttered, looking decidedly ill. "I'd sooner call those damn Blast-ended Skrewts of Hagrid's cute and they were more handsome than the ferret too!"
At the identical looks of disgust on both Harry's and Ron's face, Hermione burst out laughing again.
"Please tell me you disagree," Ron pleaded desperately.
"Well…" she said, "I have to admit, that in a superficial sort of way, he is rather handsome."
The boys exchanged a glance before turning on her as one.
"Hermione, you can't be serious!"
"He just called you Mudblood and you think he's handsome?"
"I said in a superficial way," Hermione defended herself. "I'm only talking about his looks, not his charming personality."
The two male occupants of the compartment merely stared at her, aghast and apparently speechless.
"Oh come on, you guys! It's not like I'm in love with him or something…"
"You'd better not be!" Ron cut in heatedly
"…but since Parvati and Lavender pointed it out to me, I must admit that he's really pretty easy on the eyes… and judging from all the stares he got from the girls on the platform practically drooling over him, I'd say I'm not the only one who thinks so."
Harry and Ron groaned.
"She's finally gone mad from all those hours in the library," Ron muttered
"I told you it could never be good to study that much," Harry agreed.
"I suggest we get her to madam Pomfrey as soon as we enter the castle."
"Yeah, maybe she has a potion or something that will cure her."
"Oh cut it out, you two," Ginny exclaimed, "I think he is handsome too."
"Oh my god," Ron said in mock horror, "I think it's contagious!"
Both he and Harry moved as far away from the girls as was possible.
Ginny rolled her eyes at them.
"Really! The fact that we can acknowledge the ferret is not bad-looking, doesn't mean we forgot he's an insufferable bastard."
"Exactly!" confirmed Hermione and, deciding to torment them some more, "You can't blame a girl for looking. I mean, all those hours playing Quidditch have done very nice things for his muscle tone!"
Harry and Ron were by now making gagging noises.
"Oh, I agree!" squealed Ginny, in a tone very unlike her normal self, "He has a very eh… well-proportioned physique."
Hermione was by now slumped in her chair from laughter. Gasping for air she managed to croak out one more comment.
"Nice ass too!"