The Beautiful People.
A/N
Heyyy fellow readers! Up front, I want to say that this is a very evolving AU story. It hasn't quite turned out the way I first intended it to, but I'm not quite disappointed in it. Yet. I'm hoping that this will lead somewhere. And I'm hoping to get some reviews, of course. I just wanna know how I am doing, if the characters feel human, if it doesn't flow, that sort of thing.
This fic is rated M for adult themes, language, and situations. Oh, and this story is an AU FEMSLASH among other things. So if you don't like, don't read. It's as easy as pie!
Disclaimer: I'm not sure why anyone would even TRY to claim Harry Potter on a FAN fiction website, but I'm guessing it has happened so… I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!! Thank you.
The brunette girl padded her way into her bathroom, her eyes sore and dry from the crying that happened the night before. Lately, she had been waking up in the middle of the night, her stomach aching with hunger. No matter what she had tried, neither food nor drink curbed the pain. Eventually, she would just lie down, cry, and wait in agony for it to end. Except for last night. After ravaging the fridge, hoping for a miracle, she came across some raw steak her mom had left in the fridge. She grabbed it without thinking and started to tear at the blood red meat, devouring it instantly. The hunger was satisfied, but her mind reeled. It was gross and animalistic and it had felt so... good. She had lain in her bed, fully awake for the rest of the night, tears pouring out down her face.
Peering into the mirror, she poked and prodded at the purple circles surrounding the eyes, marring her otherwise beautiful face. Like all girls, she thought of her self as plain or less than so, but in reality her honey eyes and golden brown hair were stunning with her porcelain skin. Instead of looking normal, she tended to have a more exotic look. Smearing concealer on the bags, she proceeded with her daily routine. When done, she walked into the kitchen wearing her torn and frayed black leggings (which cost more than some phone plans), a mini denim skirt from Michael Kors and a huge, off the shoulder shirt with large colored die placed on it. Grabbing her normal breakfast, she paused to look at the paper on the table.
Hermione Granger, of the famed Granger household, picked up The Daily Prophet, brief looked through it, and tossed it away. The Prophet was useless for any of the information that would affect her teen life. What she needed was a good gossip column to keep up with the information that could make or break her life. She snorted, ever since she had been accepted into Hogwarts: School for the Blessed, her life had become a never ending struggle to keep face and not embarrass herself. God, she hated most of the social games she had to play. Glancing at the clock, she gulped the rest of her juice and headed off to school.
The throng of students outside of Hogwarts was full of expensive cell phones, Blue Cult jeans, and unnecessary Manolo heels. Apparently there used to be a dress code here years ago, but obviously that was long forgotten. Getting out of her '87 mustang convertible, and ignoring jealous and admiring glances, Hermione made her way over to her usual clique stationed at edge of the Dumbledore memorial fountain. They looked the part of the 'it' crowd they were, all of them gorgeous and perfect. They were also the richest kids in school. It did seem like with money came beauty at Hogwarts. Steeling herself for another long day, she smiled and sat down next to her best friends, Harry and Luna Potter. Harry and Luna had become Hermione's friends ever since they came to Hogwarts with a scholarship Harry had won by doing some miracle over in Britain. But a scholarship doesn't buy you respect from your peers, and the Potter siblings found friends in short supply. Not to say they were poor, or course not. Apparently the Potter name was huge in England thanks to his business tycoon of a father, but most rich kids have an ingrained sense of exclusion for newcomers. So the Potter twins were constantly ousted, until Hermione took them under her wing. They had risen in popularity almost immediately and became actual friends with many of Hermione's group. They now spent most of their afternoons at Hermione's practically empty condo reading through magazines, Internet shopping, or just playing video games. Looking across the group, she gave a sly glance towards Luna. She was a peculiarly beautiful girl, with wide, dreamy blue eyes, wavy golden hair, and an impeccable taste for less mainstream fashion. Her looks were a complete opposite from Harry's messy black hair, green eyes, and cosmopolitan metrosexual type look. Hermione envied Luna's beauty greatly; The brown hair, brown eyes Hermione possessed were annoyingly common. She and Luna connected on a different level then most. The complimented each others personalities exceedingly well and it was almost as if they were made to be best friends. Dragged out of her thoughts by a drawling voice, she struggled pay attention.
"And then she said, 'Well you've seen more ass than a public toilet!'"
Draco Malfoy was the notorious bad boy of Hogwarts. But no matter what the trouble he got in, it was never in the next days tabloids. Ah, to be rich and famous. His family was one of the richest and oldest here in Brooklyn, and that apparently meant he could do anything he wanted. But not only was he rich, but he was voted as the sexiest man at Hogwarts with his platinum hair and steel eyes. Everyone laughed at his joke, as was polite. His fan club of Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson, were laughing the hardest. They also were the most despicable people Hermione had ever met, not that she'd tell them to their face. Pansy Parkinson's family was similar to Draco's, rich and powerful. She was a huge gossip, like Lavender. Except Pansy used her sly tongue to screw other people out of their popularity among other things. She had her own hierarchy of girls at Hogwarts, and she reined complete control. Nott was just an idiot, trying to scrape his own power off of Draco's aftermath. It was pathetic. The others in the group we're Blaise Zabini, and the Weasley family. Blaise was another sexy man at Hogwarts. The Zabini family had come here from Italy two years ago and quickly took up the fashion scene. His mother was a couture designer, rapidly growing in fame. Blaise was another one of Draco's crew, but it seemed Draco payed more attention to Blaise than the others. It was rumored that Blaise beat the crap out of Draco, but Hermione felt it was more that if he couldn't lord over Blaise, then he was going to make them both look good. Ginny, Ron, Fred and George (the latter two were twins) were only 4 of the Weasley family. They were as old, and as true as other of the high society's families, but still they were looked down upon for their mother's promiscuity. None of the father's traits were displayed in the children; they all were endowed with red hair, blue eyes, and freckles thicker than paste. Their integrity varied from each one, though none Hermione could said were as morally awful as Pansy.
The group continued conversing amongst each other, looking the part of the rich and famous, and Luna walked over to sit next to Hermione. Luna leaned over to speak into Hermione's ear,
"Draco wouldn't know his ass from a hole in the ground, eh?"
The giggle the escaped Hermione's lips, but was quickly squashed. Luna continued,
"Let's blow this joint, I would like to get a muffin from the cafeteria before class."
Hermione nodded, and they stood up and left. Harry, who noticed, gave a small knowing smile and then turned back to his lacrosse conversation with Ron.
The first bell rang, and students either raced or leisurely made their ways to class. First on Hermione's schedule was English, which happened to be her favorite. Actually, Hermione loved every class she had ever taken. She was the hugest nerd she knew, and it was almost embarrassing. Nerds weren't supposed to shop at Neiman Marcus. Once the second bell had rung, Hermione was already halfway through the warm up and the teacher flowed into the room. It was funny how all the teachers seemed to glide or flow with each and everything they did. A lot of the seniors did as well. Hermione figured it was some physical class you took your senior year. A loud shriek of laughter and other hearty guffaws announced the presence of the Malfoy Brigade. As Pansy burst into the room, hanging on Draco like a sick, pathetic puppy, Hermione glanced up. Draco Malfoy was the epitome of sex. At least, that's what most girls at Hogwarts thought. He donned his usual fashionably destroyed gray jeans, black wife beater, and worn leather jacket. While he dressed nice, Hermione could never see what attraction could be found from his pointy, rat face, and gelled back blond hair. As far as she was concerned, hair gel was created so as to determine assholes from a distance. And it correctly identified Malfoy.
"So good of you to take time out of your busy schedule to actually come to class, Draco, please take your seat." said a slightly perturbed Madam Hooch. The English teacher was not fond of Draco, and she let it be known as subtly as she could to avoid trouble. The boy in question just smirked and plopped himself into the chair behind Hermione, with the fan club following glaring nasty stares at Hooch.
The lesson was going by smoothly until Hermione felt a pencil jab into her back. She stiffened slightly, but ignored it otherwise, provoking Malfoy never ended well for her. Which was unfortunate because Hermione's heritage outranked his. Funny how the male always wins, right?
Not liking being ignored, Draco leaned over to whisper in Hermione's ear,
"Playing hard to get, Granger? It's not an endearing quality for women such as yourself."
His voice so close to her face made her shiver in disgust. He however took it for pleasure and chuckled. "Aw, Little Miss Prude can't help but succumb to the Malfoy touch. How about you and me ditch the class and make a little magic happen?"
She turned to face him with a smile and replied, "Eat shit and die, you chauvinistic pig. You and your 'little' magic can go somewhere by yourself." His face twisted into a nasty sneer. No one refused a Malfoy. Not even a Granger.
"You'll pay for that, bitch. You're gonna want to watch your back now that your bleeding heart of a Dad can't save you."
Her hand clenched her pencil so hard that it broke in four pieces. Taking a deep breath and schooling her face into blankness, she turned around to face her desk. Draco's remark hurt, and he knew it. A wicked chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned back, satisfied with his work. Hermione was loosing the fight to stay calm. The pencil in her hand (not that she had yet noticed) was starting to burn and smoke. It was the somewhat dettached feeling of pain in her hand that brought her back to reality. Hermione jerked her hand back, leaving the burnt pieces of pencil on the desk. Luckily for Hermione, no one apart from Hooch saw what happened. The elder woman made her way quickly to the angry and confused girl's desk and asked her to get some water and to see her after class. Hermione could barely nod, still shocked by the pencil.
The rest of class raced by, and Hermione was still sitting when Hooch approached her again.
"Ms. Granger, I'm sure you have many questions," Hermione opened her mouth but closed it at the look in the woman's eye, "But if you would please hold them until tomorrow. Tomorrow morning, certain students will be delivered letters contain important information concerning your further education. In light of what happened today in class, I will be giving your letter now. No doubt, you have some idea already that something is changing with yourself, and everything will be answered tomorrow." she finished.
Sparking more questions than answering, Madam Hooch handed a thick parchment envelope with a emerald green stamp over and Hermione took it. Pondering what lay inside the envelope and how it would give her answers, she walked out of the room. About to open it, she was stopped outside by a bored looking Pansy. Not knowing what she wanted, Hermione tucked away the letter and greeted the other girl.
"Hey Pansy, what's up?"
"Nothing. Listen, I'm having a party at that new nightclub down the block, Alchemy, and you're going to be there. I'm having girls over beforehand for primping, so if you're smart you'll be there."
The thing with Pansy was that she loved having a group of girls who were either uglier than she, or accentuated her own dark looks. With her straight black hair and vivid blue eyes, it wasn't like she needed other girls to make her prettier. It was very detrimental to a girl's health to compare their bodies to hers. It was definitely safer to stay on Pansy's good side.
"Yeah, Pansy, I wouldn't miss it. What time should I be over?"
"Be there at 6. By the way, I don't want the Party Pooping Potters there. The club is exclusive, it's not like they'd be let in anyways."
Hermione's heart fell. She hated how they were treated, and it didn't help that Luna snubbed Pansy by not going on that shopping trip to fix Luna's 'it's-not-okay-to-look-cheap-if-you-didn't-actually-spend-500-on-the-jeans' wardrobe. Luna gave Pansy just the right fuel to start the fire, and how Pansy enjoyed the flames. Harry wasn't so bad with Pansy; he dressed well enough, was gorgeous, and didn't put up a resistance to Pansy's come ons. But if one Potter wouldn't go, the other wouldn't go either. If the girl infront of her was not Pansy Parkinson, she may have protested at the exclusion. But appeasing Pansy is so much more pleasant then fighting with her. And Hermione was a coward.
"Whatever, I'll be there." Hermione was the perfect image of nonchalance.
A/N again
I know this story REALLY hasn't gotten very far, but just wait. I'm thinking that the story may have a lot of side plots/conflicts which may take a good bit of foreshadowing and background information.
Thanks!