Small but important details about the story:
Takes place fifth year.
No Voldemort! In this fiction, he was defeated by Harry in his first year.
Cedric is alive.
Harry lives with Sirius.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I only own the plot. :'(
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Draco picked up the box of sweets his Eagle Owl had dropped off. He stroked the owl with one slender, pale finger. His eyes left from the conversation his friends were having to the one the Gryffindor were having. His pale grey orbs rested on three specific people. Weasley, Potty and Bushy the Beaver. But he couldn't really call her that, now could he? Because, lo and behold, Hermione Granger's bush of hair had de-proofed and was now a bundle of silky, brownish reddish curls. An envious sight for other fifth year girls. Draco watched as she laughed, throwing her head back and laughing. He supposed, that, in an alternate world, she would be considered attractive. Very attractive if one were to be honest. But this was the Wizarding world. And mudbloods were not in the slightest bit attractive.
At least those had been his thoughts since his childhood to year three. Granger had punched him in the face, and in that two second power play, the tables - and his life- turned. She now had the strong, independent, witty and intellectual persona he had always found lacking in a girl. To be fair, he thought Karma was to blame, because, he'd been pretty ignorant to people throughout his Hogwarts years. Hell, he'd even been downright wimpy certain years. (Year 1 through 4 be damned) But of course he'd realised he wasn't the only one who found her attractive, Slithering to Gryffindor, everybody now found the Mudblood attractive. Heck, a Quidditch player, a very good one at that, had found himself infatuated with her! Bloody hell.
He'd recently acquired information that she and Viktor Krum had broken up. He had his doubts about the supplier of information, but when he saw a slightly more temperant Granger for a week, he'd succumbed to the fact. Frankly he didn't see how it did him any good, considering the fact she hated his existence. Or maybe it was his reputation that she detested.
Draco watched as Granger left the Dining Hall. Draco placed his utensil down, and swallowed. Everything tasted bitter sweet lately. Most unfortunate, he rather liked the food. He turned back to the people in his table.
"I have unfinished business to attend to" He scrambled to his feet, and followed after Granger.
"Granger!" he shouted. She turned around, stopping and waiting as he walked over to her.
"Would you like a repeat of the first day Malfoy? If I recall correctly, we didn't leave on the best of terms."
He thought back to the first day of this year. His cheeks flamed at the memory.
'He'd been hesitant to stroll through the corridors of the Hogwarts Express, worried he'd bump in to a very distraught Pansy. She and her most recent boy toy had broken up, and it was the boy toy that had done the breaking. Needless to say, Pansy was now racked with unimaginable pain. For she'd loved him! (So she claimed, but Draco knew better) Pansy was attractive. Sleek black hair with tan skin, bright eyes and luscious lips. Attractive, yes. But witty and captivating? No.
Anyway, he'd passed a compartment with little sound emitting from it. He'd thrust open the doors only to find it ouccupied by the most frustrating people he knew. Granger, Potter, a few Weasleys, and Longbottom. Of course. Just bloody brilliant.
"Sod off Malfoy" were the words of all the Weasley's plus the one (and only) Potter. Longbottom had decided not to say anything. And turned himself away, facing the window. Granger, however, had rolled her eyes at her friends and turned to face him.
He tried to ignore how she looked nice with her hair tied to the side in a complicated braid.
"What do you want Malfoy?" she asked. It certainly could have been more polite, but he appreciated the half effort.
"Nothing. Just checking on the locals. How are you beaver?"
She'd smirked and said, "I'm alright. My friends are doing fine as well. But I must say, you do look a little...pale. But then again, I hear that's quiet anticipated from Ferrets."
Her friends had chortled and shook with laughter, while she sat back and looked at him pleasantly. He frowned. He tried out the oldest one in the book. "I suppose ignorance is expected from Mudbloods, is it not?"
The room went silent. Longbottom turned around with speed. Draco later figured that that was a sign. Longbottom never moved quickly. Everyone was stunned. Except the person receiving the insult.
She merely rolled her eyes.
"The ignorant are not the people with intellect or ability to change as time does. You with your self imposed "legacy" and thousand year old traditions are the ignorant. When time moves on, you'll continue to cling at your pathetic theories and perspectives. But let me tell Malfoy, that when time and tradition leave you, I'll be on the sidelines, laughing." She stood up.
"And for the record, you have no right to claim that I'm ignorant when it is you The Pureblooded Imbecile, who had sliding marks and is second, even with all your tutors and old family knowledge, to a mudblood. How ignorant of you not to notice"
She had sat back down, looking pleased with herself.
He'd scowled and moved forward, to do what, he did not know. Much to his surprise, she'd grabbed his arm, twisted it and thrown him to the floor. He'd stumbled to his feet only to be kicked by her as she growled, "I'm sick of you" at him. She'd let go, stepping back and allowing him to gather himself and his dignity and leave the compartment. He'd left, red faced and hobbling, cradling his sore arm. She'd followed him to the door.
"Next time Malfoy, I'll warn you before causing you impending embarrassment!" She'd slammed the door behind him, but not until he'd heard the loud laughter of her friends and the people in nearing compartments.
And that was how Draco Malfoy had his arse handed to him by Hermione Granger.
Draco coughed. Then he frowned. He was tired, sick and tired, of her acting like she was better than him. She wasn't, not really. Because she was like everybody else in the world, judgemental as hell. He straightened himself, a full foot taller than her. Glaring down at her, he growled.
"Yeah, we didn't leave on very good terms. I don't appreciate being insulted like that"
She snorted. "And since when do you not insult people?"
He shrugged, "Since I realised something"
She frowned, curious. "What thing?"
He scowled. "As if I'd tell you! I should stop talking to someone as filthy and worthless as you"
She laughed. "That's rich, coming from a boy whose family is made up of death eaters!"
He growled as furious as possible. He dove forward, grasping her by the shoulders and slamming her against the wall. Her head hit the granite with a smack. She screamed, and his hand too, slammed against her mouth. "Are you stronger than me Mudblood? Can you beat me? Hurt me and flip me over?"
Weeks of rage and raw emotion filtered through him, and he slammed her against the wall again, finding glory in the moment when heard a smack. She had stopped fighting now, she watched him through her big eyes, eyes filled with hate and pain and ... sadness?
No, it was worse than that, it was pity.
He slammed her against the wall again, and her eyes closed, head lolling onto her shoulders. That's when he saw it, the ribbons of red, streaking through her hair and down the wall. The blood scared him, and he dropped her. There was a big splatter of blood, her blood, on the wall, dripping down. It was nice, in a morbid way. ; Bitter sweet.
The full weight of what he'd done fell and he staggered back. Scared as hell. "Oh god, Granger". He swore. "Shit." He kneeled down, propping her against the wall, he looked around the hall. No one was there, but breakfast was supposedly about to finish, and he didn't want to get into trouble. He was pretty shallow now that he considered it, but he had better things to consider. He pulled out his enviable cloak, a gift from his father, and placed over them, having it hover. He was careful not to get any blood on his cloak.
He considered his options. Either he could get rid of his prints and leave, or he could take her to the hospital wing and leave her outside or claim that he'd found her like that. A moment of consideration, and then he obliviated her, careful to leave memories of someone attacking her, but the actual person was blurry. Picking her up, after erasing his prints, he raced to the Hospital Wing taking the long way, looping behind the Great Hall and up the stairs to the secluded wing. He burst through the doors.
"Madame Pomfrey!" He shouted. "I found Granger!"
Pomfrey scurried out, yelping when she saw the limp girl in his arms and quickly set up a place for her to lie. "Thank you . Leave her there, Ahh yes. Thank you"
Draco turned around and left the room.
Revenge was sweet, he thought to himself. The whole situation was quite bitter sweet.
()()()
La fin
AN: continue or nahh?
~SE
