Time of Your Life

Time of Your Life

Chapter Three: A Cinderella Story

By Mina

A/N: *grins evilly* I've been getting requests for D/H… Well, I dunno… I've always been more H/H. And I *do* have a little something in mind for Hermione and our favorite Slytherin… Romance? Well, not exactly… Once again, Borgin, muchas gracias for beta-ing! This chapter is dedicated to Dillon, who will (hopefully) never read this. Dillon, we love you, you lil' leprechaun!!! *blows him a kiss and watches him run off in horror* Love ya, baby!

"It's the same all over. Wizard blood is counting for less everywhere."

--Mr. Borgin, Chamber of Secrets

"When you lost all hope and excuses

and the cheapskates and the losers

Nothing's left to cling onto

You got to hold on to yourself"

--Hold On, Greenday (are y'all seeing a pattern with my quotes?)

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"Er…" Draco, for once, was feeling very awkward. Hermione blushed bright red and looked away.

"Malfoy, I can honestly say that though I've contemplated several different ways you might spend your summer break, this certainly wasn't on my list. My, my – I don't think even Ron thought that you… er…" Hermione giggled.

Draco scowled. "You… weren't…" he stuttered. "Why are you here, anyway? Who invited the mudblood over? Father won't like this…"

Hermione's face fell. "Don't you… you… know?"

Draco hurriedly wiped the purple lipstick off. "Know what? Why aren't you off making out with Potty or Weasel, anyway? Don't your parents have anyplace to keep you for the summer, or do they hate having you around as much as I do?"

The girl's wand clattered down the stone steps of the entrance. Hermione gave Draco a scathing look, then lunged for his throat.

"DON'T-YOU-DARE-SAY-ANYTHING-ABOUT-MY-PARENTS-" Hermione pummeled Draco. He got ready to fight back, when he noticed that Hermione stopped trying to beat him up. She was sitting on threshold of the door… crying. She was clutching a black envelope, which looked like…

"Grang - Hermione… Wait… What'd I say?" Draco's voice softened. He sat down on the other edge of the entrance, as far away from Hermione as possible. She thrust the envelope into his hands.

Draco read through the contents. "Oh, I'm sorry… I – I, I didn't mean–"

Hermione wiped away her tears. "You didn't mean to mock my now dead parents. You see here?" Hermione poked the letter. "They were killed by Death Eaters. You-Know-Who, Malfoy…"

"…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." Draco ran his fingers through his still wet, clumpy hair. He couldn't believe he was being civil to Granger.

"You're right. Though I never thought I'd see you apologizing, not after the torture you've put me and Harry and Ron through these past five years."

"Don't expect me to be nice to you just because your parents are dead, Mudblood. I'm Draco Malfoy, not Potty or Weasel. I'm not here to give you a shoulder to cry on, you got that?" Draco got up and brushed dirt off his bathrobe. He looked back at Hermione, who had a rather strange look on her face. "And don't you dare tell anyone about, you know," he motioned at the robe and the smudged lipstick, "this. I can make your life living hell around here, Granger."

Hermione looked shocked. She rubbed her puffy eyes, and gave Draco a cold look. "I underestimated you, Malfoy. For a while there, I thought you were human. My mistake."

"Oh, I'm human! More of a human than–"

"Draco! I see you've met Hermione!" Narcissa stepped out from behind a statuette of Merlin. Draco stared at his mother.

"You-you-KNEW about this?" was all that he could manage to say.

"Knew?" laughed Narcissa. "Why, it was I who arranged it all, really!" She gave a high-pitched giggle and hiccupped. Draco backed away.

Narcissa brushed back her blonde hair and finally noticed what Draco was wearing. "Why, Draco, whatever is that? Pink? No, no dear… that really doesn't go well with your delicate complexion!"

Draco slapped his forehead. Crap, he thought, she's drunk. Drunk! And in front of Granger! Rita Skeeter would have a field day with this. He could see the headlines already… "Lucius Malfoy's Son Crossdresser!" and "Malfoy Loves Muggles?" and "Alcoholics in the Malfoy Manor!" and perhaps even "Malfoy Molesting Muggleborn?"

His train of thought was interrupted by a rather loud sob coming from Hermione. He looked in the direction of the gardens and hurriedly wiped away her tears. A tall, gaunt figure, dressed in black was moving towards them.

"Bridget! Wonderful, wonderful!" Narcissa giggled drunkenly and sat down on the steps in a rather unladylike fashion. Bridget was at the foot of the stairs, giving both Hermione and Narcissa a stiff, disapproving glare. She put on a fake looking thin smile and helped Narcissa up.

"Now, now, Madame… We must get all of you inside, you'll catch a cold. Master Lucius wouldn't be pleased, would he now?" Bridget literally dragged Narcissa inside as Mrs. Malfoy yelled to Draco:

"Draco, dear, do help Hermione with her trunk!" Draco glowered at Hermione and heaved her trunk into the mansion. Hermione followed meekly, gritting her teeth and wishing she was anywhere but here.

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"WHAT? Hermione is – NO! – this is impossible! Evil! They'll kill her! Poison her! Slit her throat while she's asleep, or feed her to Dementors!" Ron banged his fist against the table. "Why wasn't I told? My best friend is in the clutches of the Malfoys, and I'm the last one to find out?"

Mrs. Weasley sighed and opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted by a loud clattering from the stairs. Harry bumped his head against the railing and rolled down the last few steps. He rubbed his forehead, and walked to the kitchen counter.

"What? What'd I miss?" asked Harry. "And where's Hermione?"

"Second to last to know, Ron. Second to last," whispered Mrs. Weasley as Harry looked at everybody in confusion.

"But I can't believe it! What stupid Ministry law allows those sorts of things to happen?" Ron proceeded to stab his breakfast toast with his knife.

"Calm down! Arthur will figure something out. Hermione won't have to be there for long," Molly Weasley said worriedly.

Harry groaned. "Why don't I ever know anything? What's wrong with Hermione? What about the Ministry?"

"Harry, the Malfoys have got Hermione!" Ron yelled and shook Harry's shoulder. Harry looked at him wide eyed.

"Ron, stop kiddin' around. I'm too tired for these sorts of jokes. Where is Hermione, really? I need help with my Charms essay…" Harry trailed off.

"It's true. The death notice – that was her parents. It's a Ministry law, you see. If a Muggle born witch's or wizard's parents are killed by something related to magic, they are taken in by a wealthy Ministry family, at least until their magical education is completed. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were killed in a Death Eater attack in London." Mrs. Weasley wiped her eyes with a tissue.

"NO! This is - this is – impossible! Why didn't anybody tell me?" Harry was having the same reaction as Ron.

"There's only one thing we can do," said Mrs. Weasley firmly.

"What?" asked Harry and Ron simultaneously.

"Wait and hope."

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"You are comfortable here, I trust?" Bridget asked stiffly as she helped Hermione push her trunk into a rather bare white room. There was a small twin size bed in the corner, a round mirror, and a cheap looking picture on the wall of a vase of flowers. A small writing table stood next to a dusty window, and there was a bookcase full of titles like "Muggle Breeding in the Late 1800's" and "Malfoys: 1200-1700". Hermione sighed.

"Yes, it's very… nice," she mumbled and sat down on the bed stiffly. Bridget gave her another scrutinizing look and walked out of the room, shutting the door loudly behind her.

"Oh God!" Hermione moaned as she banged her head against a heavily starched pillow. Before, she couldn't stop crying loud, ungraceful sobs. Now all she could do is shake and bury her face in the rough bed covers. The tears could no longer flow freely down her cheeks; she felt as though she had cried them all out, and now there was nothing left there, except a dull, beating ache in her heart.

And it felt much worse than any physical pain she had ever experienced. This is what Cinderella must have felt like, living with her evil stepmother, Hermione thought. How ironic. At least Cinderella had her ball and her Prince. All Hermione had was a trunk full of books and a broken heart.

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Dear Hermione,

Look… we're very, very sorry about what happened. We didn't know that… you know… Your parents were killed. Mrs. Weasley sent us away as soon as the telegram arrived. We were going to ask you, but then you were gone, and we only just found out.

I hope the Malfoys aren't being too cruel. Listen, if they lay a finger on you, just owl us. Mr. Weasley will be over in a second, to get you out of there. We're trying to let the Ministry allow you to stay with us, at the Burrow.

Dad will stop by soon to bring you Crookshanks. He's been running wild in the woods, we only just caught him.

Good luck. Don't let those pricks get you down, and we'll kill Malfoy for you if he dares say anything.

Love,

Harry and Ron

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Lucius Malfoy paced up and down the dark burgundy hallway. He glared at the small golden plaque that had "Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic" engraved on it.

"Ah! Lucius! So good to see you!" Cornelius Fudge smiled a big, toothy grin. Some said that he could rival Gilderoy Lockhart for the whiteness and shininess of his teeth. To tell the truth, the Colgate grin made most people wary and distrustful. Lucius, on the other hand, simply found it amusing. He, for one, knew that those pearly whites were about as real as Britney Spears's body. (A/N: Sorry. Couldn't resist! Let's just say that Lucius knows more 'bout Muggles than we think… And, to keep with the times, he watches the Mickey Mouse Club, too. So there's more to him than we thought!).

"Hullo, Cornelius," Lucius said sourly.

The Minister of Magic slapped his shoulder in a friendly gesture. "Why, Lucius! Whatever's wrong?" Malfoy sighed. Remind me again, he said to himself while rubbing his temples, how this idiot ended up the Minister…

"What's wrong, Cornelius?" Lucius muttered through clenched teeth. "You want to know what's wrong?" The Minister nodded dumbly, backing away just the slightest bit.

"THERE IS A MUGGLE IN MY HOUSE! WITH MY WIFE AND CHILD! HOW DID THIS HAPPEN, AGAIN?" Lucius exploded. Fudge fingered his wand nervously.

"Well… uh… you see…" he cleared his throat. "Narcissa said that you were perfectly okay with it, and after all, the poor thing's parents were killed in a Death Eater attack, and you know how bloody often these things are happening now. It was the least we could do to help the girl, and your wife really wanted her over," Cornelius said all in one breath.

Lucius turned a peculiar shade of pink, then red, then a rather painful looking maroon with a tint of burgundy. "I DON'T CARE IF THEY WERE MAULED BY BLOODY DRAGONS! I DON'T WANT THAT… MUGGLE LIVING UNDER MY ROOF!!!" Malfoy's blonde hair was getting mussed and greasy. He was sweating, and, for once, his black silk robes did not give him the advantage of looking superior.

The Minister of Magic pressed a small red button near his desk. He tripped over a chair and landed on a small black armchair in his office. He turned pale as he saw Malfoy grip his wand and start moving slowly towards him.

The doors to his office burst open, and three wizards in plain black robes surrounded Lucius. They gently took him by the arms and attempted to lead him out of the door. Lucius struggled and attempted to kick at one of them.

"YOU BLOODY BASTARDS! Don't you know who I am? I'm Lucius Malfoy, damn it! I can have your liver on a platter by Monday morning!!!" he screamed in a rage. One of the black robed men nodded sympathetically.

"Sure ya are," he said in a rather annoying American accent. He tipped his wand to Fudge (who was now turning back to his normal color), and helped the other two men "assist" Mr. Lucius Malfoy out of the Ministry Headquarters.

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Draco was having by far the worst day of his summer. Even being in a stuffy and dusty room full of gloomy old wizards for five hours was better than this. Not that, Draco hurriedly added, his father was old or gloomy. Just a bit… imposing, that's all.

One of his worst enemies, a Gryffindor, and a Mudblood at that, saw him in pink. This was enough material to blackmail him for life, not to mention that his mother chose that particular day to end up drunk. Draco glared at his ceiling, and clenched his fists angrily. If father ever found out about this, he would be dead. He would be beyond dead.

Draco prayed to whatever god watched over spoiled little rich boys - please don't let anybody find out about this.

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A/N: So this was all cut a little short. I've been in a rut. Oh, and for anybody here that's interested. I have discovered the new love of my life - Seamus Finnigan! *growls* Mine! And don't any of you's forget it!

-Mina