Disclaimer: Characters/settings/names/etc. belong to my hero J.K. Rowling. :
Thank yous: Seducing Reason, Kiaaa, anonymous, and Coldblueblood. You guys are awesome! Snaps for you!
On with the second chapter. Place in oven, heat 360, and enjoy. (:
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Hermione climbed the spiraling stone staircase that led to the high-ceilinged library and breathed in the refreshing scent of parchment. Ahh, she sighed, comforted. The library, filled with such endless knowledge and learning, was the only place outside of her own house where Hermione truly felt at home.
Picking out a thick volume for some light reading, she folded down her cloak and settled into a chair at the back niche of the vast room. Minutes passed swiftly as Hermione flipped yellowed page after yellowed page. Just as she was really delving into the book, she heard footsteps coming closer and stopping in front of her desk. She looked up slowly, and almost jumped at the person standing in front of her. The tall, thin, and slightly handsome boy was nineteen, she knew for a fact, and he had ruffled, white-blond hair and piercing grey eyes. His clothes were baggy, yet they looked immaculate and crisp on his lean body. He wore a smirk that Hermione knew too well.
"Malfoy," she growled disgustedly. "What the hell are you doing at Hogwarts? You must have some nerve even showing your face after what happened."
With one smooth motion, Draco pulled out a chair, sat down, and swung his feet onto the table. "Hey," he drawled, pretending to sound hurt, "out of all people, I expected you to believe I had nothing to do with Dumbledore's death. I was under the Imperius Curse, you remember my confession to McGonagall. I thought you were smart enough to remember something that happened not two years ago." He picked at his fingernail nonchalantly, and Hermione fumed.
She shoved his feet roughly off the table and hissed in his face, "That confession was a bunch of codswallop, and you know it."
Draco scoffed. "McGonagall herself believes I was innocent, not to mention Rufus Scrimgeour and everyone in the damn wizarding community. I don't care if you believe me, I know myself that I am innocent, and that is enough." With that said, the blond teenager sat on the edge of his chair and leaned in closer to Hermione.
Enough of this phony chit chat, he thought to himself. Time to put this plan into action.
"Herminny, that's your first name, right?", he asked her, turning on the charm that had captivated and enamored countless girls in his lifetime. "Well, I wouldn't know, since I've never cared enough to call you by your true name before."
"Well, you must have heard wrong, or you must be hard of hearing," Hermione replied coolly, oblivious to his flirtatious nature. "It's Hermione. But you usually just called me by my surname or other foul names while we were at school, so I must say, this is a somewhat pleasant change." She looked back down at her book and mentally willed the odious boy to leave her alone.
Unfortunately, he didn't budge.
"Okay then. Hermione," he continued pompously. "Hermione. You know, I have to admit. Although I've never really noticed you myself, I have heard of your beauty from Weasel and that idiot Neville throughout my days at Hogwarts, and I was moved at how they spoke of you. Hence, that's the reason I set out from my humble house today to find you at Hogwarts. I am desperate, and I would, Hermione Granger, like to court you for my wife."
Draco almost gagged at the repulsive speech that had just come barreling out of his mouth. Trying not to grimace, he motivated himself with the thought that he was faithfully serving the Dark Lord.
A long, shocked silence met his request, as Hermione sat agape, her jaw almost hitting the floor.
Finally, after an uncomfortably lengthy moment, Hermione regained her composure and narrowed her eyes at him. "You're taking the mickey out of me!" she hissed disbelievingly. "How dare you come in this hallowed hall just to make fun of me? I can't believe you! I don't know what you came here for, but I suggest you get out my face before I curse you into oblivion, you movable." Hermione finished her rant, huffed loudly, and snobbishly stuck her nose back in her book.
"What's a movable?" Draco persisted, getting up and pacing around her. He was not yet about to let the Dark Lord down by giving up on Hermione so easily. Even if she was such a hideous, unlikable creature. Such a shrew, he thought to himself, amused. But when I get to see her killed…
She didn't look up from her book. "I don't know. A stool."
"Well, if I'm such a stool, why don't you come sit on me?" he teased.
"Asses are made to bear and so are you," she quipped back.
"Fine, Hermione," Draco sighed dramatically. "I'm not going to force you to marry me. It's your own choice. If you won't let such a buzzard like me take you…" He paused to search her face for a reaction. When there was none, he continued, frustrated, "Oh come off it, you wasp! You're always so angry. It's no wonder you never had any friends!"
Upon hearing this, Hermione slammed her book loudly shut and then stared coldly up at Draco.
"If I am waspish, then you should beware my sting," she snapped icily.
"My remedy will be to pluck it out."
"If you're smart enough to find out where it lies!"
"Who doesn't know where a wasp's sting is? In his tail, of course."
"In his tongue."
"Tongue? Whose tongue?"
"It'll be yours if you keep talking to me. So, goodbye." Hermione folded her arms, crossed her legs, and raised an eyebrow, pointedly waiting for him to leave.
But he still didn't budge. Instead, a small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, and he replied with mock surprise, "What, with my tongue in your tail? Merlin, Hermione, there's no need to plague me with such dirty thoughts now – I am a gentleman –"
"That I doubt," interrupted a disgusted Hermione, slapping him smartly across the face with considerably more strength than she had used on him in her third year.
Draco staggered and gasped angrily, putting a hand to his red face. Then, he slowly rearranged his features and ran a hand through his sleek strands of hair, recovering his poise. He breathed in and out calmly, and then hissed dangerously quiet, "I swear I will hex you if you ever strike me again."
Hermione, however, was not affected by this menacing threat. She retorted, "Go ahead. Try me. I promise you'll lose both your arms and your wand if you do."
"Oh, come off it, Hermione, you must not look so sour," sighed Draco, attempting to keep the plan working, "It just accentuates your big hair. And you definitely don't need to bring any more attention to that revolting, frizzy mess."
"Well, it is my habit of frowning when I see a crab," she sniffed haughtily.
"There's no crab here."
"Yes there is, there is."
"Where, then? Go on, show me, if you're so clever."
"If I had a mirror, I would."
Oho! Did she think that was supposed to be funny? Draco thought, snorting to himself. How pathetic. Well, if she's going to be insufferable like this… I've had enough of trying to convince her. I have to take action. Now.
"Okay, then. If you're going to be that way, you really leave me no choice," Draco sneered.
Ignoring Hermione's confused look, he swiftly whipped out his wand and muttered a long, complicated curse at her. Green ropes shot out of the tip, swirled around, and wound around her, binding her arms and legs together. She tried to scream for help, but a rope gagged her as soon as she opened her mouth. The vines knocked her out of her chair onto the floor, where she glared up at Draco with fire and fear burning vehemently behind her brown eyes. She thrashed and tried to break free, but to no avail.
Draco smirked and bent down to look at her bound, struggling body. "Sorry, dear, I know you're terribly eager," he drawled sarcastically, making sure to spit in her face as he talked, "but Father has to approve of our marriage before we go ahead and officially wed. Now, come on, let's go."
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(A/N) How was it? Did you enjoy it? I hope you did! Please leave me a review, I would love to know more about how I'm doing and what you think about this so far! Without your reviews and support, I'm likely to sit around watching TV instead of writing. (: Motivate me, dears! (You will also save me from the TV.) [: more to come!
