(A/N: Gee, I'm glad you liked it! Just a fair warning, Draco starts to get just a bit ooc. I don't think so, though. I see him as a conformist, always wanting to do what his crowd thinks is right. But that's just me, being weird. Raf is a lot like me, and I figured that Herm would have a close friend before she got to Hogwarts. Just me rambling again… don't pay any attention to me. Happy Reading!)
"We've matched you up with someone perfect for you! She'll be exited to receive your first letter!" Yeah, right, thought Draco Malfoy as he folded up the letter. He wasn't the least bit exited, he just thought of this as an end of summer blues.
Or not. *Sigh.* Well, I'll just sit down and write this thing, if I have to. He picked up his favorite eagle quill, and dragon's blood ink, and began to write. The ink was thick and black, so it gave a formidable look to the already formal message.
Dear Anne,
Is it all right if I call you Annie?
(No, no, that's not right, he thought. Well, maybe it is.)
I suppose you'd like to know a bit about me. I have blonde hair and gray eyes, I am approximately 6 feet in height, and weigh 130 pounds. My father is a millionaire, and my mother the same, and they've never loved each other. I am the properly raised, young, 16-year-old boy they've always wanted.
Of course, they never spend any time with me. I go to a boarding school for most of the year. There, my 'friends' (if you could call them that) insist on being exactly like my parents. Rude, conceited, you get the picture. So, I am forced to be like that or face the consequences.
I really want to be like them, though. Well, not really. Just, some of the time. Some days, I would rather not call people rude things, or be so damned prejudiced! My father, mother, and my friends are. But, I suppose, not me.
My one real friend, (he added, as a large, black lab waddled up beside him,) is my dog, Mage. He is a very good listener. But he insists on chewing on our ham bones, very loudly, might I add, while I'm trying to talk to him. He makes a fool of himself most of the time, which is why I enjoy his company. He's not vain, like the rest of us.
Well, I guess that's all for now. Write back soon. I'm very interested to hear about your life. What are your parents like? What pets to you have?
Sincerely,
Dr…
Draco stopped. What if the letter came back to him, and his father found out? He would get a very, very severe punishment. If he just used an alias, however…
Sincerely,
Drake Versatti
There. A play off on his first name, and his mother's last name. This was a perfect plan. He ran out to catch the muggle mailman, who always passed their house, and dropped the letter to Anne with him. He had lied about being very interested in her life. She seemed rather dull, to put it bluntly. And a muggle.
But the rest, he thought, patting Mage on the side, was all true. And that was just a bit worrisome.
There was a screech from downstairs as a flock of birds came through the open window and up the stairs to Rafaela's room. At first the two girls were worried, but when they saw a mess of feathers, they relaxed.
A jet-black raven soared over to Rafaela, and landed on her shoulder. Arram Numair, the Raven, belonged to Raf. Raf claimed he didn't, that he was just her trusted friend, but to the untamed eye, he certainly looked like a house pet. He cawed, lifting up a twig like leg to show his friend a letter. She pulled it off, and unfolded it. She read aloud to Hermione:
Dear Whoever you are,
Stop bothering me! I don't know who you are! Go away!
Ron
Rafaela snickered. Ever since Hermione had told her what a git Ron had become, she had taken to sending him strange, foreboding letters. She loved his reactions every time. "Go away! Ahhh!" Raf mimicked. Herm tried, very unsuccessfully, not to laugh.
Hedwig was keeping as far away from Numair as possible. They must have gotten into a row along the way. A ministry owl was poking Hermione expectantly, waiting for her to take the letter he had brought. Instead, Hermione reached for the letter Harry had sent her.
She smiled, reading it. Harry had asked her out last year, in their 5th year of Hogwarts. They had been going steady for nearly a year and a half now. As she proceeded to fold up the letter, Raf's head poked out of nowhere. "Let me read!"
"No," answered Hermione bluntly.
"Aww, come on!"
"No, and that means not a chance."
"Fine. I bet it has some really juicy stuff in it…"
Raf knew exactly how to push Herm's buttons. "It does not!"
"Uh, huh! Sure!"
"It doesn't have juicy stuff!"
"Right," she said sarcastically.
"Here!" Hermione said, thrusting the letter in her friend's face. "Read it! No juicy stuff!"
Rafaela tried not to snicker as she read it. It was kind of romantic, but Hermione was right. "Oh. You do realize you let me read it, right?"
Hermione blushed. Raf let out her snicker. "I," she said to a very bewildered Herm, "am so cunning! Hehe."
Herm was about to say something when Raf's golden-haired mother tromped up the stairs, plucking a feather from her messed up tresses. She looked livid. "Ladies, some letters came for you!"
"Ohhh! Thanks mom," yelled Raf gratefully. Mrs. McLeod looked at her daughter reprovingly as she handed Hermione her letter.
"Rafaela Michelle McLeod! What did I tell you about having birds in the house?"
"Aww, but ma! Ron sent a letter! Do you want to read it?"
"Not really. Just, be careful next time. And, yes, I did say Numair could stay," she added, seeing Raf's downcast look. "But only in your room." With that, she left.
Hermione picked up her letter. It was from her new pen pal. Raf had convinced her to write in, but she had only done so under an alias. Her chosen name was "Anne McLeod," Anne being her middle name, and McLeod being Raf's last name. Raf was going to be her sister, instead of her best friend.
Drake, thought Hermione, after reading the very personal letter. She liked that name. She liked it a lot. Don't be silly, she thought. You can't have romantic feelings for this boy. He sounds, frankly, a lot like Draco Malfoy…
(A/N: Dun dun dunnnn!! The plot thickens! And you thought I wouldn't pair up Draco Malfoy with Hermione Granger. Oh, well. This is going to be a bit like "You've Got Mail," but not exactly. I kind of like where this is going. Huh. Well, as always, R/R and you'll be my friend. I'll have the next part up sooner with encouragement!)
(Disclaimer: No one and no place except Raf belongs to me. Raf would like to own her mother, but, unfortunately, Raf's Mother owns herself. And Raf's mother owns her house. There. Just don't sue me!)
Lilywing
"We've matched you up with someone perfect for you! She'll be exited to receive your first letter!" Yeah, right, thought Draco Malfoy as he folded up the letter. He wasn't the least bit exited, he just thought of this as an end of summer blues.
Or not. *Sigh.* Well, I'll just sit down and write this thing, if I have to. He picked up his favorite eagle quill, and dragon's blood ink, and began to write. The ink was thick and black, so it gave a formidable look to the already formal message.
Dear Anne,
Is it all right if I call you Annie?
(No, no, that's not right, he thought. Well, maybe it is.)
I suppose you'd like to know a bit about me. I have blonde hair and gray eyes, I am approximately 6 feet in height, and weigh 130 pounds. My father is a millionaire, and my mother the same, and they've never loved each other. I am the properly raised, young, 16-year-old boy they've always wanted.
Of course, they never spend any time with me. I go to a boarding school for most of the year. There, my 'friends' (if you could call them that) insist on being exactly like my parents. Rude, conceited, you get the picture. So, I am forced to be like that or face the consequences.
I really want to be like them, though. Well, not really. Just, some of the time. Some days, I would rather not call people rude things, or be so damned prejudiced! My father, mother, and my friends are. But, I suppose, not me.
My one real friend, (he added, as a large, black lab waddled up beside him,) is my dog, Mage. He is a very good listener. But he insists on chewing on our ham bones, very loudly, might I add, while I'm trying to talk to him. He makes a fool of himself most of the time, which is why I enjoy his company. He's not vain, like the rest of us.
Well, I guess that's all for now. Write back soon. I'm very interested to hear about your life. What are your parents like? What pets to you have?
Sincerely,
Dr…
Draco stopped. What if the letter came back to him, and his father found out? He would get a very, very severe punishment. If he just used an alias, however…
Sincerely,
Drake Versatti
There. A play off on his first name, and his mother's last name. This was a perfect plan. He ran out to catch the muggle mailman, who always passed their house, and dropped the letter to Anne with him. He had lied about being very interested in her life. She seemed rather dull, to put it bluntly. And a muggle.
But the rest, he thought, patting Mage on the side, was all true. And that was just a bit worrisome.
There was a screech from downstairs as a flock of birds came through the open window and up the stairs to Rafaela's room. At first the two girls were worried, but when they saw a mess of feathers, they relaxed.
A jet-black raven soared over to Rafaela, and landed on her shoulder. Arram Numair, the Raven, belonged to Raf. Raf claimed he didn't, that he was just her trusted friend, but to the untamed eye, he certainly looked like a house pet. He cawed, lifting up a twig like leg to show his friend a letter. She pulled it off, and unfolded it. She read aloud to Hermione:
Dear Whoever you are,
Stop bothering me! I don't know who you are! Go away!
Ron
Rafaela snickered. Ever since Hermione had told her what a git Ron had become, she had taken to sending him strange, foreboding letters. She loved his reactions every time. "Go away! Ahhh!" Raf mimicked. Herm tried, very unsuccessfully, not to laugh.
Hedwig was keeping as far away from Numair as possible. They must have gotten into a row along the way. A ministry owl was poking Hermione expectantly, waiting for her to take the letter he had brought. Instead, Hermione reached for the letter Harry had sent her.
She smiled, reading it. Harry had asked her out last year, in their 5th year of Hogwarts. They had been going steady for nearly a year and a half now. As she proceeded to fold up the letter, Raf's head poked out of nowhere. "Let me read!"
"No," answered Hermione bluntly.
"Aww, come on!"
"No, and that means not a chance."
"Fine. I bet it has some really juicy stuff in it…"
Raf knew exactly how to push Herm's buttons. "It does not!"
"Uh, huh! Sure!"
"It doesn't have juicy stuff!"
"Right," she said sarcastically.
"Here!" Hermione said, thrusting the letter in her friend's face. "Read it! No juicy stuff!"
Rafaela tried not to snicker as she read it. It was kind of romantic, but Hermione was right. "Oh. You do realize you let me read it, right?"
Hermione blushed. Raf let out her snicker. "I," she said to a very bewildered Herm, "am so cunning! Hehe."
Herm was about to say something when Raf's golden-haired mother tromped up the stairs, plucking a feather from her messed up tresses. She looked livid. "Ladies, some letters came for you!"
"Ohhh! Thanks mom," yelled Raf gratefully. Mrs. McLeod looked at her daughter reprovingly as she handed Hermione her letter.
"Rafaela Michelle McLeod! What did I tell you about having birds in the house?"
"Aww, but ma! Ron sent a letter! Do you want to read it?"
"Not really. Just, be careful next time. And, yes, I did say Numair could stay," she added, seeing Raf's downcast look. "But only in your room." With that, she left.
Hermione picked up her letter. It was from her new pen pal. Raf had convinced her to write in, but she had only done so under an alias. Her chosen name was "Anne McLeod," Anne being her middle name, and McLeod being Raf's last name. Raf was going to be her sister, instead of her best friend.
Drake, thought Hermione, after reading the very personal letter. She liked that name. She liked it a lot. Don't be silly, she thought. You can't have romantic feelings for this boy. He sounds, frankly, a lot like Draco Malfoy…
(A/N: Dun dun dunnnn!! The plot thickens! And you thought I wouldn't pair up Draco Malfoy with Hermione Granger. Oh, well. This is going to be a bit like "You've Got Mail," but not exactly. I kind of like where this is going. Huh. Well, as always, R/R and you'll be my friend. I'll have the next part up sooner with encouragement!)
(Disclaimer: No one and no place except Raf belongs to me. Raf would like to own her mother, but, unfortunately, Raf's Mother owns herself. And Raf's mother owns her house. There. Just don't sue me!)
Lilywing