Goodnight, Starlight
by chemtrails
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its elements are the creation and property of J.K. Rowling. No profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended. So there.
AN: While I love the dark turn canon has taken, I thought it would be enjoyable to write a fic reminiscent of the relatively happier times--- both in the fandom and in the actual books. This story is set in an alternate sixth year, the sixth year we Draco/Hermione shippers wanted to happen. I hope you all have as much fun reading this as I had writing it. Suggestions and constructive criticism are greatly welcome and appreciated.
Chapter One: You Cry a Tear to Start a River
"Ah, nothing like a double helping of History of Magic right after breakfast," Ron Weasley declared with a sarcastic cheerfulness that, coupled with the despair in his ocean-blue eyes, was utterly terrible to behold. "Perfect way to start the day off, really."
"Come on, Ron, it's not that bad," said Hermione Granger with a laugh as they settled themselves into their respective seats in Professor Binns' classroom.
"Not that bad?" Harry Potter repeated in disbelief. "Hermione, yesterday I fell asleep in the middle of a detailed description about the worst method of goblin-inflicted torture. That's how boring Binns is."
"Seriously," Ron chimed in, "whose idea was this? Double History of Magic, my arse, as if one class didn't already last a hundred years. Of all the---"
Hermione tuned out her friends' complaining as she rummaged through her bag. Quill, check, spare piece of parchment, check, book, che--- She froze, her face going as white as a sheet while panic set in. It couldn't be.
Frantically she started going through her bag again. "Nonononono---"
The two boys turned to look at her.
"Hermione?" Harry's voice was tinged with concern. "Are you all right?"
"My History of Magic textbook!" Hermione moaned. "I can't find it--- but I'm sure I put it in my bag last night, I always prepare my things the night before----"
"Maybe it slipped out and you didn't notice," Harry suggested. "It's probably lying around in the hallway somewhere."
"What d'you need it for, anyway?" Ron wanted to know.
Hermione glared at him. "Well, obviously to follow the discussion, Ron. And what if Professor Binns asks a question---"
"Binns doesn't even know our names!" Ron protested. "He hasn't asked the class a question in years! What makes you think he's going to start now?"
"It never hurts to be prepared," Hermione said primly, standing up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go look for my book. Watch after my bag, will you, Harry?"
As she left the classroom, she heard Ron say, "After all these years, you'd think we'd have finished the bloody book by now---"
He's got a point, Hermione mused. They were already in sixth year and only halfway through the text. Of course, she had already read it all the way to the end, and it was quite fascinating. If only Professor Binns were a better lecturer---
She shook her head and focused on the task at hand, scanning the hallway directly outside the classroom. No luck. She frowned as she began walking, knowing that she only had a few minutes left before class began.
"Where could it be?" she wondered aloud, turning the corner.
"Looking for this, Granger?"
The cold, lazy drawl stopped her short. Draco Malfoy was leaning against the wall, flanked by Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot grasped tauntingly in his hand.
"Malfoy!" Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Give that back!"
"No, I don't think I will just yet," Malfoy said nonchalantly. "I must say, Granger, for such a smart witch, you are remarkably unperceptive. Didn't even notice when I swiped this book right out of your bag."
"You sneaky little---" Hermione sputtered, too angry to properly organize into a coherent sentence the murderous thoughts that swamped her mind in a sudden rush.
He smirked. "What's this? Granger rendered speehless? I must say you're losing your touch. Either that or you're not as brilliant as everyone thinks you are."
"And you, Malfoy, are just as pathetic as everyone thinks you are," Hermione retorted. "Couldn't even pull off an immature prank like this without your bodyguards, could you?" She glanced pointedly at Crabbe and Goyle. "Act as high and mighty as you want, but it's not going to change the fact that you're a sniveling coward and that's all you'll ever be!"
Malfoy's gray eyes blazed. "I'm going to make you sorry yousaid that, you filthy Mudblood." He threw Hermione's book on the floor and pulled out his wand. "Incendio!"
A strangled cry tore itself from Hermione's throat as A History of Magic burst into flames. "Aguamenti!" A jet of clear water shot out of her wand, dousing the fire. Quick as a flash, she dove for the book, which had unfortunately turned into a charred, soggy mess that came apart in her hands.
"Oh, no---" Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes. She hated, absolutely hated, seeing books destroyed or otherwise being treated carelessly, and this had been one of her favorites.
The Slytherins howled with laughter.
"You're crying?" Malfoy said incredulously, pure enjoyment etched on his sharp features. "You're crying over a book? Oh, this is priceless. Wait until---"
He never got to finish that sentence, because, before Crabbe and Goyle could react, before Hermione could even think about her actions, she had dropped her wand and flung herself at Malfoy in blind rage, knocking him to the ground.
"You malicious--- evil--- little--- git!" Hermione yelled as she pummeled Malfoy with her fists. "How could you--- how dare you---"
"Get her off me, you idiots!" Malfoy shouted as he struggled to defend himself from Hermione's attack.
Crabbe and Goyle sprung into action, forcefully wrenching Hermione up by the arms.
"Let go of me!" Hermione thrashed wildly in their grip. "Let go of me this instant!"
Crabbe and Goyle were either surprised by the viciousness of her movements or used to automatically obeying direct commands, for they released her. She grabbed her wand from the floor and pointed it at the three boys, breathing heavily.
Malfoy slowly stood up. His normally impeccable hair stuck up at odd angles and his robes were askew. If Hermione hadn't been so consumed by her anger she would have cracked an amused smile at his uncharacteristic disheveled appearance.
He was rubbing the sore spot where her fist had connected with his jaw, staring at her with eyes that appeared to never have seen her before. She met his gaze with the same fiery glare that caused Harry and Ron to duck for cover whenever it appeared.
An ominous silence crackling with tension filled the hallway.
"Leave us!" Malfoy barked to Crabbe and Goyle, who had been looking at him for instructions.
They blinked, confusion furrowing their brows.
"You heard me," growled Malfoy. "Get out of here. Go."
Crabbe and Goyle ambled down the hallway, casting worried glances over their shoulders before they turned the corner and disappeared.
"Called off the guard dogs, Malfoy?" Hermione said wryly. "A surprisingly gutsy decision, coming from the likes of you." Despite her words, a slight feeling of trepidation fluttered inside her. She was alone with Draco Malfoy in a dimly lit hallway. Who knew what kind of diabolical acts he would try to pull?
"You ought to have a bit more respect for your superiors, Granger," Malfoy spat out.
Hermione snorted. "And how exactly are you my superior, Malfoy?"
"Blood talks," he answered simply, "and yours is as dirty as they come. You should know your place."
"You've been saying that since second year, it hasn't exactly made me fall on my knees yet---"
The two were so caught up in their argument that they didn't notice Colin Creevey making his way down the corridor, regarding them apprehensively, as if he was debating whether or not to pass by them or seek another route.
Insults were exchanged, challenges were issued. Voices rose to a fever pitch, fists clenched, icy gray eyes bored into heated brown ones--- until, finally, several years of anger, several years of hate, came to a head as Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy aimed their wands at each other and yelled, "Stupefy!"