"Her-my-own-nee," she pronounced carefully.
"Her-my-own-nee," Andrew repeated.
They were in the Great Hall eating breakfast. Hermione had come to eat with him. Draco was sitting across the table, a few chairs down, watching them suspiciously.
"Great!" she said enthusiastically. "Now say it fast. Hermione."
"Hermy--hermi–arrgh!"
She grinned. Every single one of her boyfriends in the past few years had major problems pronouncing her name. Except for Ron, of course. But he didn't count–they had been boyfriend and girlfriend for a total of 193 minutes, and then he had run away. "Good enough."
"Okay, Hermiarrgh, would you pass the pumpkin juice?" Andrew was in a very good mood. Peony was looking as though she'd never speak to him again. With luck, she wouldn't.
See, Peony had done more things then just try to drown him. She had stolen his money, annoyed him the whole trip to Hogwarts, called him a Mudblood (he wasn't sure what that was, but it sounded bad), put a full body bind curse on him–and that was just the first day he'd met her . . . but that was another story.
Draco scooted down so he was sitting across from them. "Why is she sitting here?"
"This is Hermione," Andrew introduced.
"I know who she is," Draco snarled. "Why is she sitting here?"
"Because she's my girlfriend,"
Draco choked. "What? Are you nuts? She's in Gryffindor!"
"So?" he said uncertainly.
"She's friends with Potter! She's a Mudblood, too!"
"What's a Mudblood?" he asked.
Hermione, who had been being very quiet, burst, "You know what I think a Mudblood is? A Mudblood is someone with bad blood in them. You're the Mudblood."
"How dare you?" he snarled.
"And why do you have to order him around all the time? He shouldn't be in Slytherin, even. The Sorting Hat wanted to put him in Gryffindor!"
He sank in his chair. "Why'd you have to tell him that?"
Hermione wasn't listening. "And you know what? You know what?" She was shrieking now, and everyone was staring at them. Andrew sank lower in his chair. Even the teachers were watching, although they didn't seem to want to try intercepting. Hermione continued, oblivious to them. "You know what? He's a Mudblood, too!"
Draco suddenly turned red with anger. "You never told me you were a Mudblood!"
"I don't even know what a Mudblood is," he protested.
Draco wasn't listening either. "I never would have been your friend! You know what? You should have been in Gryffindor!"
"Yes, he should have been!" and with this, Hermione turned on her heel and left.
"Her-my-own-nee," Andrew repeated.
They were in the Great Hall eating breakfast. Hermione had come to eat with him. Draco was sitting across the table, a few chairs down, watching them suspiciously.
"Great!" she said enthusiastically. "Now say it fast. Hermione."
"Hermy--hermi–arrgh!"
She grinned. Every single one of her boyfriends in the past few years had major problems pronouncing her name. Except for Ron, of course. But he didn't count–they had been boyfriend and girlfriend for a total of 193 minutes, and then he had run away. "Good enough."
"Okay, Hermiarrgh, would you pass the pumpkin juice?" Andrew was in a very good mood. Peony was looking as though she'd never speak to him again. With luck, she wouldn't.
See, Peony had done more things then just try to drown him. She had stolen his money, annoyed him the whole trip to Hogwarts, called him a Mudblood (he wasn't sure what that was, but it sounded bad), put a full body bind curse on him–and that was just the first day he'd met her . . . but that was another story.
Draco scooted down so he was sitting across from them. "Why is she sitting here?"
"This is Hermione," Andrew introduced.
"I know who she is," Draco snarled. "Why is she sitting here?"
"Because she's my girlfriend,"
Draco choked. "What? Are you nuts? She's in Gryffindor!"
"So?" he said uncertainly.
"She's friends with Potter! She's a Mudblood, too!"
"What's a Mudblood?" he asked.
Hermione, who had been being very quiet, burst, "You know what I think a Mudblood is? A Mudblood is someone with bad blood in them. You're the Mudblood."
"How dare you?" he snarled.
"And why do you have to order him around all the time? He shouldn't be in Slytherin, even. The Sorting Hat wanted to put him in Gryffindor!"
He sank in his chair. "Why'd you have to tell him that?"
Hermione wasn't listening. "And you know what? You know what?" She was shrieking now, and everyone was staring at them. Andrew sank lower in his chair. Even the teachers were watching, although they didn't seem to want to try intercepting. Hermione continued, oblivious to them. "You know what? He's a Mudblood, too!"
Draco suddenly turned red with anger. "You never told me you were a Mudblood!"
"I don't even know what a Mudblood is," he protested.
Draco wasn't listening either. "I never would have been your friend! You know what? You should have been in Gryffindor!"
"Yes, he should have been!" and with this, Hermione turned on her heel and left.
