DISCLAIMER. would i reallllly be on here if i was JK Rowling?!
AUTHOR'S NOTES. thank you for reading and reviewing and all of that. i really appreciate it! just to answer a few things/say a few things...
1. From what i've got going on in my brain right now, there are a few options for poor Hermione in the near future, as far as her transitioning into 'Claire'. In the first draft of this story, Hermione went to Dumbledore and took a polyjuice potion, and then just went to Snape during potions class every day and took more so she wouldn't change back until it was time to do so. And that's sort of plausible. I could also have her get a sort of, you know, makeover- which would be loads of fun to write. So those are two options. As far as the time-turner thing goes, frenchreader, i'm not sure that'd work out all too well, although it's not a terrible idea. The school is convinced that Hermione, while Claire, is forced to take a leave of absence- so being Claire and Hermione at the same time won't be a problem. BUT. Any recommendations as to whether she should take a polyjuice potion or whether she should get some sort of makeover would be GREATLY appreciated.
frenchreader: as far as i've got planned thus far [which. i have the entire thing planned out, so!] Hermione/Claire won't have the dark mark. - and it'll be something that more or less draws her to Pansy, as you've already noticed that she doesn't want the dark mark either. not everyone's got it. granted, most of them do. but claire/pansy wont, so! i hope that answers your questions.
again, R&R! thanks guys!
Chapter Two- Boys will be Boys
" I want you to be happy."
"I am happy.." she whispered back, though there was no need to, for the strident chatter of the other students around them would have veiled their words even if they were talking normally. They remained on the couch in the middle of the crowd for several minutes, chattering with whomever addressed them first, watching as the busy clamoring around of the others began to slow, the clock across from them striking seven and then eight; The crowd around them thinned until few of their friends remained. Draco treaded a hand through Pansy's dark hair silently, enjoying her closeness, her smell- she smelt of lavender and clean laundry. Afraid to ruin the moment, Parkinson tried not to move, not to squirm giddily, enjoying just as much the feel of his digits gracing the back of her neck. She smiled, closing her eyes, ignoring Crabbe and Goyle's game of exploding snap, Daphne and Millicent's hushed whisperings- undoubtedly start-of-the-year rumors- from the corner of the common room. It wasn't until Draco's voice broke the near-silence that she moved again, twisting her head up to gaze into stormy grey eyes.
"You-" he dropped his hand from her hair, moving it down her back and then to her hip, pulling her closer, "you're special, Pansy. I mean- you don't have anything to be unhappy about. You're with me."
And he kissed her, his lips entirely as soft and graceful as they'd appeared since the day she met him.
He must have been thinking of this the entire time they were sitting there; She could almost imagine him arguing profusely with his conscience, the anxious side questioning the truth in her promise that she was indeed happy, the confident side believing her words without fault. Pitifully, she furrowed her brows, her face merely inches from his, and did nothing but stare into his eyes, trying desperately to read him. Draco wasn't a man of very words, and really, Pansy had a hard time reading any of his expressions, besides those obvious. As a matter of fact, Pansy and Draco's relationship was far more…physical than emotional, really. Sometimes that fact would leave Pansy up all night, wondering what exactly it was he thought every time he saw her- did he even think anything at all? Again, her mind went to that dreaded picture now sitting inside of her trunk, and Draco's divided attention. He wasn't the only ego in the room, Pansy thought, sighing inwardly as the blonde's face beneath her twisted into that of…was it love? Admiration? Passion? Pansy didn't know. But it was good enough for her.
Ugh. This is killing me. He's so.. unbelievably good. Good like..
She allowed her hands to venture into the back of his robes, to let the feel of his warmth of his back numb her effortlessly. Draco complied willingly, of course, wrapping his arms around her waist, his eyes questioning her intention, pleading with her to give him what he wanted. But she couldn't. She couldn't relax, not in the middle of the now-empty Slytherin Common room. Who would? Someone with no morals, without a doubt. And she wasn't about to do anything he undoubtedly had in his mind in the middle of nowhere, where an innocent first-year's mind could easily become corrupted. Her eyes fluttered open, staring at the green-and-silver decorations on the walls.
"Draco.."
"What? What now?" Malfoy's voice was cold, despite what she thought was a concerned expression; Knowing him, his concern was faux. "Oh, let me guess: you're not comfortable here."
He sat up, crossing his arms across his chest, greatly resembling a bratty child denied his favorite sweets. Pansy's own face, this time, revealed it's first blatant expression- hurt.. Why didn't he understand? He always understood, for this wasn't the first time she grew nervous, uncomfortable at his slightest sign of affection.
Maybe if he was more..
Pansy stopped that thought before it could finish itself. She wouldn't criticize him, she loved him unconditionally. What kind of…girlfriend…would that make her?
Running a hand through his hair, she sighed, "I'm sorry, Draco I really don't mean to be such a-"
He couldn't listen to another excuse, not tonight. She pushed him over the edge one too many times, and now she was going to see what happened when he wasn't pleased. Draco stood, shaking his head slowly and heading towards the wall on the far-side of the common room, watching impatiently as the bricks comprising it dissolved, creating an archway through which he could leave. He lingered in the archway for a moment, then turned on his heel and ran down the abandoned dungeon corridor. He didn't care how loud his footsteps were, he didn't care where he went, he just needed to get away. Draco Malfoy let his feet take him where he was meant to be.
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Hermione Granger sat, curled up in the most comfortable chair in the almost-empty Gryffindor common room. Over the top of her textbook, she watched Harry Potter and Ron Weasley's game of Wizard Chess, her face showing signs of disgust as Harry's knight was brutally beaten by Ron's castle. One could hear the girl murmur something along the lines of "ridiculous" as she returned to her studies.
An adult hippogriffs' wingspan can reach up to a maximum of 50 feet, when measured from wing tip to wing tip, and…
"50 feet?"
"What?" Ron turned around in his chair to face his friend, his face showing signs of confusion.
"Hmm? Oh, nothing…nothing." Hermione hadn't realized she had spoken out loud. Ignoring the boys' stares, she pulled her quill out from her pocket and began to copy the sentence onto a piece of parchment.
Ron, after throwing Hermione a perplexed gaze, turned back to his game and grunted irritably as his king was slaughtered. The boys set the game up for a second round, talking to each other animatedly about their last Quiddich game.
An adult hippogriffs' wingspan can rea-
No, she thought, that can't be right,..
"I can't believe how badly Ravenclaw played…"
"They're horrible, really-"
"..wouldn't be able to find the snitch if it kicked them in the-"
"I'm going to visit Hagrid." Her voice silenced the others, and they watched as she dropped her things onto the stout mahogany table in front of her, "Anyone coming?"
By the time she was out of her seat, standing mid-step on the opposite end of the common room, Harry and Ron's attention was on their game of chess again, their voices increasing in volume with every proceeding step she took. Hermione assumed they hadn't even known she had spoken at all.
"Boys." She muttered quietly to herself, allowing the portrait to swing open so she could leave. Ron and Harry were always like that; Ever since the school year had begun, it was as she hadn't existed anymore. As if the universe had suddenly reversed itself, now revolving around them, the Gryffindor common room, and their antics. Why were they acting so weird?
"OH!" The Fat Lady gasped as- a result of Hermione's lost temperament and careless swinging of the portrait- her frame smacked against the wall, and then, as quickly as it had been opened, returned to its usual position. "Do watch where you're going!"
Hermione pivoted on her heel, turned to the portrait, and spoke two words of advice:
"Shut up!"
_______________________________________________________
Draco Malfoy allowed his mind to wander as he aimlessly turned corner after corner and scuttled up several flights of stairs. Moments later, as he turned down what seemed like the hundredth corridor, he bumped into another's shoulder. He watched out the corner of his eye as the other person fell to the ground, and offered a hand to help her up.
"Oh sorry, I wasn't watching where I was- ew."
Hermione Granger glanced at his outstretched arm, and his sudden change of expression and rolled her eyes, heaving herself up on her own.
"Watch where you're going, Granger!" Malfoy snickered, "clumsiness, it must be a mudblood thing.."
"Shut your mouth Malfoy. You're clearly the prat who wasn't paying attention. " she countered, fixing her robes and pulling her wand from her pocket. "Maybe you should be a bit more-"
To her disbelief, Draco had his out already, pointed dangerously close to her face.
He's always got to start trouble, doesn't he? Her mind managed to process a single thought before he spoke.
"Well, I think its about time I put you in your place. You don't seem to understand where that is." Draco's lips turned upwards into his trademark smirk. Hermione had a craving to return the smirk, to show him how it felt to stand, fleetingly, under such a menacing glare, but she would have had no time if she had tried to do so.
"Stupef-"
"Oh, ickle ferret boy and goody-goody Granger, having a go at each other?"
The both of them had been so very focused on the forbidden act of jinxing the other, openly, in the middle of the halls, they had not noticed a pair of white, ghostly eyes staring at them from inside a classroom. Peeves cackled, now floating up and down the hallways, shamelessly finding humor in their soon-to-be misfortune.
"STUDENTS ROAMING THE HALLS!" he howled, "STUDENTS DUELING IN THE HALLS!"
Before either of them could get away, an exasperated Filch came barreling down the corridor, a wide, crazed grin plastered onto his face. Of course, an equally as thrilled teetered several feet behind him, mewing as if to predict their eventual fate. Draco, rolling his eyes in Filch's direction, held back the urge to dropkick all the way down the corridor. Despite their unfortunate circumstances and the fact that, well, he absolutely loathed Hermione Granger, he couldn't help but find slight amusement in how Hermione's expression seemed to match his desire to injure the feline. Without a moment to lose, Filch grabbed at their forearms and dragged them down the corridor, Peeves following suite.
"Goody-goody Granger and Ferret boy…" Peeves whispered at them in a sing-song voice, "They're ugly as-"
"Thank you for enlightening us, Peeves, you may leave." As if appearing out of thin air, a very flustered Professor McGonagall stood in the doorway of her classroom as they passed it, arms crossed over her chest. She cast the pair a look of pure disappointment over her glasses and ushered them into her office.
"Fetch Severus, please." The Gryffindor Head of House directed Filch, and waited patiently until he hobbled out of the room, slamming the door behind him. For awhile, nobody spoke, the two students only taking their seats as they were told to do so.
McGonagall, who had seated herself at her desk, tapped her long, thin fingers on its wood surface impatiently, "I'm sure he won't keep us any-"
She was cut off, for the door swung open with an eerie creak, and Professor Snape entered, clearly interested about such a disturbance. His face was relatively expressionless, only hinting at vague amusement. until he lay eyes on the pair sitting before him. Had he been confunded? Draco Malfoy, one of his favored students, dueling with Granger? That sheer notion didn't surprise the Head of Slytherin House. What surprised him, though, was that he got caught.
"These two," Professor McGonagall started, "were found by Peeves, dueling."
"Were they?" Snape answered monotonously from his seat in the corner. He did not lift his gaze from the back of Draco's head, which was bowed down, facing the floor, ashamed.
"Yes, Severus, they were. I think it would be appropriate to take..20 points from both Gryffindor as well as Slytherin, and.." McGonagall paused, only to watch both Snape and Draco's expressions change for the worst at the mentioning of removing points from Slytherin, "Detention."
Hermione cringed- she had never gotten detention before. And with Malfoy? That'd be an absolute field day. She sent her head of house a pleading stare, which was bluntly ignored. Running a hand through her unruly brown hair, she turned her head to stare out the window, but she found no answers there, either. All that could be seen was a clear, night time sky.
With a great effort, Severus Snape replied, in the same bland tone, "But of course. And," he smirked, "since you got the honor of docking points, they shall serve detention with me." His cold, dark eyes carried his attention towards Hermione now, "Tomorrow evening. Eight o'clock. In my office."
Professor McGonagall seemed to have no acceptable counter to this, for all she did was nod. It was clear now that she pitied Hermione; From day one, she had always been one of the most adept students of her year. Honestly, she was shocked that Miss Granger was dueling in the first place. More likely than not, it was Draco's fault, but she decided against voicing her thoughts, at least for the time being. The room was still for a moment, noiseless, with the exception of Peeves, who was clearly listening into the conversation. Murmurings and chuckling could be heard from outside the door, but no one seemed to care. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, Professor McGonagall stood, fixing her robes quickly before turning towards the students.
"Very well, you may head back to your common rooms. And no detours, Mister Malfoy."
As if it were a great insult to speak as such, Draco scowled in McGonagall's general direction, though too afraid to meet her gaze, in fear of her docking more points. It wasn't as if he really wanted to be responsible for Slytherin's losing the house cup this year. Not as if Snape wouldn't award him meaningless house points tomorrow during class to make up for the loss- but it was far less a struggle if he just kept his mouth shut.
Silence again. Granger nodded, too ashamed to speak, and waited for Malfoy to leave first before she herself shuffled out the door. It had to of been around nine o'clock by the time they had left the classroom, and the Gryffindor stifled a yawn. She made no haste to get back to Harry and Ron, for it would not surprise her if they were playing Wizard Chess just as she had left them.
_______________________________________________________
Draco Malfoy was even angrier than he had been when he had left the common room earlier that evening. With all that had occurred during the past hour or so, not even the mere mentioning of Pansy Parkinson could have held his attention for more than a minute or so. All he wanted to do now was sleep, to dream away his problems and to put them off until the morning. His heavy footsteps echoed all along the corridor as he made his way slowly down the final flight of steps and quickened his pace through the Entrance Hall. Usually bustling with students, the Entrance Hall had an eerie feel to it, as if someone was watching him. This thought sent chills down his spine, though his face remained expressionless. Nothing frightened Draco Malfoy, especially something he didn't even know was coming.
As he muttered the password, ( "Serpentine") he pushed and shoved his way past the other occupants of the common room- for whatever reason, the quiet time had passed, the night owls of Slytherin House beginning to emerge, to socialize. He hadn't noticed a rather large Slytherin 7th year standing beside him, and shoved her as well, watching as she, like Hermione, fell backwards and onto the floor.
But Draco didn't care, just as he didn't care about anything else occurring in his life. He continued walking past her, making sure to kick one of the books she had been holding across the room and into the wall opposite, smirking to himself silently as the sound of it's banging reached his ears.
"OH!" the girl howled from her place on the floor, bringing herself to her feet and glaring daggers into the boy's back, "Do watch where you're going!"
Malfoy pivoted on his heel, turned to the girl, and spoke two words of advice:
"Shut up!"