Hey there! Well, this is the quickest I've ever updated anything...I am not kidding.
Anyway, this is another one of my 'whim' stories (something I think up randomly at a random times) so I'm not quite sure if it'll get very far. But I'll definitely try not to let this become another half-assed story saved on my laptop for an indefinite amound of time.
Please review, they make me smile (sometimes even update faster just so I can hear from you guys again).
-Losticated
Discalimer (which I forgot last time): Yes, yes, in fact I do own Harry Potter and everything asociated with the Harry Potter empire (!)
No, I'm just being a nerd; I don't own anything besides a very nice new D&G wallet.
Chapter Two
He stood patiently as her shoulders quaked with laughter. After a while, his tolerance decided to make its absence known.
"Are you quite done?" His brows were furrowed with annoyance.
Peals of laughter erupted from her then, his annoyance evidently fuelling the hilarity. "Harry…insane…" she repeated over and over again.
Sighing and finding the sight before him quite peculiar, he never would have guessed that he would be housing Hermione Granger, the Walking Textbook as she joined his side.
"Granger, get a hold of yourself, woman!" he snapped, unable to take the giggles any longer.
She stopped, a large grin plastered to her face as she struggled to contain the silent laughter shaking her body. Malfoy was not amused. Instead, he produced his wand and waved it, muttering a spell. Hermione immediately stopped laughing and yelped, a large textbook having slammed itself on her feet.
"What did you do that for?" she demanded, her frown taking place on her forehead.
"While I'm sure it was entertaining to be overtaken by hysterics, the spectators of this depressing act certainly don't think so."
"Laughing is depressing?" she didn't require an answer and instead asked, "So what are we doing here?"
Remembering his task, Malfoy cleared his throat. "The Manor is to become your home and you will do as I say you do and eat what I say you eat. Now, don't lie to me; what are you doing here?"
Hermione frowned. "What are you talking about? You brought me here!"
"Not that!" he was frustrated; she could tell by the way his eyes shot Avada's at her. "What's your plan? Is this a ploy?"
Hermione sighed loudly. "I thought we'd already gone through everything there is to go through. Harry and I have had a difference of opinions and I switched alliance."
"Why?"
She crossed her arms and sighed louder. "Malfoy, mind your own business."
He pursed his lips, frowning at her.
She groaned. "He had some rather radical plans."
"Has it got anything to do with the mysterious muggle killings in the past few months?" he asked quietly.
Hermione stared him, wide eyed, for a moment. "How do you know about that?"
"If you know the right people, you can find out anything."
She cleared her throat. "Well, your side has been unusually quiet for the past three months."
"So?"
"Three months, Malfoy! And not a singly killing!"
"How do you know it's not just a cover up? We could be building up towards something bigger." Quickly, he added. "Which isn't the case."
"Nothing is still better than 38. 38, Malfoy! That's how many!"
"May I ask why?" his curiosity made him ask as he cocked his head to the side.
She sighed, quietly and wearily. "He believes that it's for their own good; that they should die by his hand rather than Voldemort's."
"Potter's finally gone loony then, hasn't he? It must be the influence of that Lovegood."
Hermione shook her head sadly. "He's lost hope. But I do know that I'd rather try to stop him than fight for his cause."
"But that doesn't explain why you're on our side."
"I'm not. I'm just trying to stop Harry."
"I don't believe you."
Shrugging, she informed him, "I don't care. It doesn't matter to me whether you believe me or not, just as long as Voldemort does." She smirked. "And between you and me, I think he does."
Aggravated by her scornfulness, his blue eyes dug into hers. "How dare you speak the Lord's name."
"Fear of a name only increases-"
"Fear of the thing itself," he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I heard you the first ten million times."
She made a contemptuous sound and pressed her lips together, his eyes still piercing hers.
"How do you know he trusts you?"
She shrugged, raising her eyebrows in mock uncertainty.
"Notice how he didn't once try to pick my brain?"
The days passed surprisingly quickly, Hermione still trapped in the manor. It was large, magnificent and luxurious yet the prison-like feel was hard to escape. Death Eaters watched her like a child watched cartoons, never letting her out of their site for even the smallest amount of time.
She tried to strike up conversation with Goyle but it proved mind numbingly useless.
"So, what do you do all day?"
"Watch people."
"Who?"
"All sorts."
"How's life after Hogwarts?"
"Excellent."
"Are you married?"
"Yes."
"Who to?"
"You wouldn't know her."
"I'm sure I would."
"No, you wouldn't."
"How do you know?"
"Never you mind," he mumbled and shuffled a few steps away from her prying questions and leaned back into one of the thousands of armchairs the Malfoy manor possessed.
She waited until he dozed off to creep slowly down the stair and down a hallway, lit by candles.
"Someone needs to introduce the concept of electricity to this place." She mumbled as the hallway turned sharply, leading to only one door, large and intimidating.
She raised her eyebrows and nodded in approval, fully aware that there was no-one to receive the appreciation. "Great door Malfoy but that won't keep me out."
Pushing the door open, she peered around the edge and expelled a quiet laugh of excitement.
The room was empty.
Pushing the door closed behind her, she moved towards his desk, a gigantic wooden thing, and started to rifle through the papers on the desks. Letters, notes, newspaper articles littered the desk, spilling over onto the ground with no visible system of organisation.
Giving up on finding anything interesting, she sat in his huge armchair by the fire and wondered what she was hoping to discover anyway.
Picking up a book that was opened, facing down, on the carpeted floor near her feet, she flipped it around. It was a book she had read in fourth year, something that hand't really stuck in her mind, but then, she turned to the first page and began to read words and sentences that weren't really familiar.
When the candles started to dwindle and the fire dying, she heard the door open behind her.
Snapping the book shut, drawing attention to her whereabouts, she stood up and faced a confused looking Draco Malfoy.
"What are you doing in my study?" he demanded, frowning.
"I was bored," she informed him, holding up the book. "And I happen find Gellert Grindelwald absolutely fascinating-and so do you, it appears."
He harrumphed and moved towards the desk, ensuring that the mess he had created was still a mess, he sunk into the chair, rubbing his eyes.
"Long day?" she asked cheerily, almost happy at his weariness.
"Shut-up," he mumbled which earned a slight smirk from Hermione. "Go bother someone else."
"It's not my fault that you employ utter idiots to watch me." At his confused expression, she raised an eyebrow. "Gregory Goyle? He fell asleep three seconds in."
Muttering a curse under his breath, he looked up at her with drained eyes. "Can you just go away, Granger? Talking to you is draining."
It wasn't meant to sound rude yet his biting tone hinted that talking to her was comparable to a chore.
"Fine," she huffed. "I'll go talk to your mother."
"No, don't-"
But she closed the door on his prohibition and found herself standing in front of Narcissa Malfoy's room, holding up a hand to knock on the wooden entrance.
Knock knock.
Who's there? she almost expected to hear but instead silence reigned for a full minute.
"Come in."
"Bellatrix, you must not get angry!"
The woman turned her furious gaze to the other occupant of the small room.
"Angry? That filthy Mudblood has befouled the Dark Arts. Just wait, I'll get prove her guilt, I will."
A/N: You know what though? I'm actually very very afraid of making these characters sound to OOC. Please inform me if I start to sound too much like...well, myself.
And can anybody explan to me what 'canon' means? I'm sure it's something so simple that someone is reading this and thinking "God, this girl is dumb" and I'm sorry for that but I'd really like to know. Thanks.
Lollipops and hearts.
-Losticated.