Chapter One
(Author's Note: Ok then! A new ficcy from Moi! Aren't I just wonderful?
LOL. As always please expect this to be very long… lotsa chapters, yadda, yadda,
yadda, you know the drill. Personally, I'm a Hermione/Ron shipper, but those
are so boring to write, and Drakey dearest is one of my favourite characters.
He's so spoiled and mean and cute it's just hilarious, and I'm into that whole
deal. It's told mainly from Draco's view of things, though not exactly in his
POV. This is not only a romance novel, but also slightly a parody. It's not
exactly your average romance… more like Draco acts, er, strange… and he's
really, really snobby, but he's the one who figures he wants Herm for a
girlfriend, so he's very abrupt. Hermione doesn't exactly see things from his
point of view… So of course, there are plenty of laughs… Okay, yeah, that's
enough of a sneak peek for you! And puh-lease, no flames saying, "Oh, God, they
do not act that way!" ok? It's meant to be a bit OoC. At
the beginning of each chapter I write down part of a song that pretty much
fits… and then at the end of the chapter I finish the song. So, be looking out
for that. Here's to the Snob and the Bookworm, okay? LOL. Please note that some
jokes I think only my friend Dani Hall will get (SilverPhoenixWings) so just hang with me okay? I have no muse, and am sad since Dani gots
a pretty phoenix. But I gots Todd! LOL. See below. Oh, and this
chapter's song is just for fun. Now… onward!)
((Disclaimer: Ok now, I'm only doing this once, so kindly listen up.
Here is a nice little policy I have: I no take credit; you no sue. LOL. Okay
then? Joanne (or Jackie) Kathleen
Rowling owns the whole to do, but I own the plot and this dude name Todd. Yep, he's the hott guy inside my pinky who whispers sweet
nothings to me, which I sometimes transfer to my stories. Ok then.))
(((Dedication: To SilverPhoenixWings, my partner in crime and current
co-story-co-writer, if you can get that. Also to lilygirl
simply because she's just fabulous and an excellent poem writer. Yeah, and I'd
also like to dedicate this to the little darling who first informed me about
ff.n… yeah, you know who you are, sweetheart.)))
((((Slap In The Face: Yes, hi, thank you for reading this little important note.
I refuse to name any names, but this is my official Slap In The Face to this
guy… who's a total prat. He used to be my best friend, and now he's been swept
up into the wonderful world of 'Leave me alone because I have a girlfriend and
don't need you to talk to anymore'. Right. Well, he knows who he is, and I
think some of you know too. Okay, so maybe I don't have the blonde hair he
likes, and maybe I don't have eyes like the sky, but if that's his idea of a
girlfriend, count me out, thanks. I'd like to leave him with three of my
favourite quotes (hopefully his puny brain will be able to process them enough
so he gets the point.) 1. "Bring it on!" 2. "That's all right, that's okay, I
never loved you anyway," and my personal fave… 3. "Wassup with you? You no it's
not fair, you pay me no attention when I'm standin' right there. Well it's all
good, and it's all right, you're gonna
regret this for the rest of your life. 'Cause I'm goin' on two, and I'm about to blow up; when
you see me on TV you'll know you messed up. So remember this quote, and
remember my name: it's Hermione of ff.n and making a fool of you's the game."
Thanks to SPW who inspired me to do this… that felt really good!))))
Sometimes I have dreams; I picture myself in them. Above
the clouds, high in the sky, conquering the world with my magic piano. Never
being scared, but then I realize… I'm super girl, and I'm here to save the
world, but I wanna know who's gonna save me. I'm super girl, and I'm here to
save the world, but I wanna know why I feel so alone. Seems like a dream, just
a fantasy, nobody's here with me, to share and know that I've been given, I
need someone that's strong enough for me… I'm super girl, and I'm here to save
the world, but I wanna know why I feel so alone. I'm super girl, and I'm here
to save the world, but I wanna know why I feel so alone…
"Yes, yes, well Mr. Malfoy, I don't quite see why you're
here my boy. After I preformed the correct charms last time, I already told you
that I'd come to the conclusion that you're in perfect mental stability. It's
as simple as that I'm afraid,"
Draco
Malfoy crossed his arms stubbornly, looking more like a child of five than a
young man of fifteen. This was the fourth time he'd visited Dr. Wexler's, a
magic physiatrist. "And I've told you that I'm hallucinating," he
howled, always the spoiled one. He tapped his foot impatiently on the deep blue
carpet, and dug his knuckles into the squishy leather-like couch that you would
often find in Muggle physiatrists offices.
"Mr.
Malfoy," Dr. Wexler intoned patiently. "If I may humbly express my hypothesis,
I would say that it is perfectly normal for a boy your age to start having
feelings for a young woman,"
"I
am not having feeling for her!" Draco hissed lividly at the man. "I've
told you countless times already that I'm hallucinating! I demand that you tell
me that I'm hallucinating right now- right now!" he spat out hastily, his
cheeks glowing red with anger.
"But,
Mr. Malfoy, it is not of my good medical judgment to do so-"
"Might
I remind you, Wexler, that Lucius, my father, has you right under his thumb?
Let me warn you that Daddy Dearest doesn't like it when I get mad, because then
it starts to make him angry!" Draco prodded the doctor's shoulder angrily. "So
if I were you, I'd hurry this whole thing up and tell me I'm hallucinating- or
Lucius shall here of this!"
Dr.
Wexler turned pale, and gulped. He knew all too well what a very bad idea it
was to get on the wrong side of Lucius Malfoy, so nothing was worth risking
that. "Er, yes, of course then. I believe you're just hallucinating my boy. To
help these- uh- hallucinations to stop, you might try taking a spoonful of
nettle wine mixed up in a cup of hot water right before bed,"
"Thank
you, doctor," Draco smirked and rose from the couch. "I will leave now," he
said airily as if the doctor should get down on the floor so Draco could walk
over him as to not dirty his feet on the way out.
"Er,
will your father be hearing about our session?" asked Dr. Wexler nervously.
Draco spun around, and narrowed his eyelids, looking simply scathing. A sneer
curled up at the sides of his mouth and his cold, gray eyes glinted with both
amusement and malice.
"No,
thankfully for you he has business to attend to all this week so I won't speak
to him about it," he turned and left without another word, slamming the door
behind him. Dr. Wexler clasped his hand together and shut his eyes, tilting his
head heavenward.
"Oh
thank you, thank you, dear Lord!" he cried, almost sarcastically.
Meanwhile,
Draco sniffed loudly, feeling flustered but slightly better now that it was
down in writing he was only having hallucinations. To tell the truth about it
all, Lucius Malfoy had no idea his son had been going to therapy, because he
had no idea of Draco's problems. He had never been close to his son, and Draco
certainly did not want to just mention casually to his Death-Eater father that
he was having horrid hallucinations. One just didn't do that, and certainly he
would not tell Narcissa. That was just an absurd idea within itself.
Scowling
to himself for no reason inparticular except perhaps hidden anxiety and maybe
buried worry, he hopped on his Nimbus 2001 and kicked off, soaring high into
the clouds. Slowly but surely, his scowl lightened and softened into a faint,
dreamy smile, the way it always did when he was in the air. Wind with such
velocity was whipping his face and it felt so cool and good, he felt as free as
though he were someone like Weasley, someone who didn't have
out-of-the-ordinary burdens thrust upon him since his very day of birth,
someone who had real caring mums and dads not just 'parental units', and
someone who was loved. Up in the air, the sky loved and worshiped him, and the
sun bestowed on him its heavenly rays of inhuman supernatural bewitchment.
Flying,
when not playing Quidditch of course, was a good place for Draco to mull his
life over, and usually he didn't like the things he saw flashing through his
mind. On the very day he graduated from Hogwarts, only three school years'
time, Lucius and Lord Voldemort highly expected him to become a Death Eater.
Being the stubborn, crafty spoiled brat he was, Draco didn't want to become one
simply for defiance's sake, but how could he even begin to refuse if 'Avada
Kedavra' was waiting for him on the other end of things? And it wasn't like he
was a happy-go-lucky goody-goody like Potter who actually cared that he wasn't
bad and evil; Draco just found it very fun to resist any command dealt to him.
He
could faintly see greens and browns and grays and silvers and golds and
rainbow-like colours on the ground far below, and he sighed, knowing he would
reach Malfoy Mansion soon. Yes, that was right, back to the God d***ed house
elves and civilized life not in the air. But nothing could damper his smile
that had spread almost to a grin from the thrill of flight, and he thought to
himself how he must get some nettle wine. It sounded like a highly stupid cure,
but anything to get rid of his little, er, 'situation'.
Blinking
rapidly from the air, he began to tilt the broom forward slightly since the
big, stone mansion was within viewing range. Faster and faster he raced to the
ground, and this was truly a credit to his amazing Seeker ability skills. And
Potter and Weasley had said that he had just gotten on the team because Lucius
bought them brooms. Actually, the whole thing was the Draco got accepted to the
team and told Lucius they all needed better brooms to win Potter, so naturally
Mr. Malfoy was more than eager to agree. Only about thirty more yards now until
he hit the smooth, cool deep green grass… twenty yards, ten yards… and he came
to a neat and tidy stop.
Scowling
once again for nothing at all, he grabbed his broom, and walked up the long, tall
granite steps to the double front doors, and with a click of a handle, he flung
them open, storming in once again in a bad mood. A house elf bowed to him, and
without a word, he bitterly thrust his broom at the timid thing and marched up
the white marble stairs. "Draco, sweetheart, darling, do come look at this,"
called Narcissa's clear, lazy and pampered voice. Draco clenched his fists at
his sides and gritted his teeth.
"Yes,
Narcissa," he said sweetly, and followed the sound of her voice, which led into
a large empty room. It was Draco's little game to act, uh, strange around his
parents along with being deliberately defiant. He of course called them by
their first names, as most of the Slytherins did to their parents, but he acted
giggly and girlish and bouncy around his just to see their mortified faces.
Narcissa, being so flighty and almost un-real barely noticed it and talked to
Draco- when she did at all- as though he were a teenage girl (who was quite
sissy-ish) instead of a bold, sarcastic, antagonistic teenage boy. Lucius most
definitely noticed it, but he put up with it, although annoyed.
Draco
reached the room Narcissa was in and he put a silly grin on his face and acted like
he was simply delighted to see her. "Oh, Drakey, dearest, look at this
marvelous painting!" she pointed to a very old one of a bunch of fruit (which
was moving around) in a basket. In reality, that painting had been sitting
there since they had built the house, but Draco went along with it.
"Oh,
Narcissa, sweetheart, it's simply marvelous," he let out a high giggle. "You
just noticed it though darling? Why that silly old thing's been there for just
ages!" he said in an unusually girlish tone. Narcissa let out a tinkling laugh
and playfully tapped his shoulder. "Are you still having that simply delicious
cocktail party for your friends tonight?"
"Oh,
well yes, Draco, of course. You just have to come! All the girls are just dying
to see you again you know. Oh, Draco dear, puh-lease say you'll come and make
me the happiest woman alive?" she practically bounced.
"I
wouldn't dream not to," Draco clicked his tongue, and let out another shrill
giggle. "We'll have ever so much fun, and we can all sip tea from little
porcelain cups with pink and yellow flowers painted on them!" he clapped his
hands together in mock-excitement. As always though, Narcissa took his sarcasm
and mocking for real, true excitement, and it never occurred to her that a boy
his age wouldn't want to do all the things she imagined would be great fun. And
even though Narcissa said words like 'dearest' and things like that to him, it
wasn't in a motherly way, just the way one talks to another when one is either
extremely ditzy or extremely strange. "Ok then, ta, Narcissa, I'll see you
later for your special little party," Draco giggled, and turned away to leave,
waving in a feminine manner over his shoulder.
"Draco,
honey! Your nails! They're simply horrid! I'll send a house elf up later to give
you a manicure and a pedicure, because they're just beastly, not to mention
grimy- ugh. Well see you then," she called, and went back to fawning over the
painting that-had-always-been-there.
Draco
giggled, and stepped out of the room, his stupid grin immediately dropping
itself to a scowl. "Incompetent idiotic woman," he muttered under his breath
and went into his room, a few doors down. A house elf was drawing the curtains,
so Draco shouted, "OUT!" at the little thing, and it scurried out, bowing. He locked
the door behind it, and flung himself on his royal blue satin four-poster king
sized bed, sighing. Boredly he tried to stare at his nose, and he stuck out his
tongue to see how long it was. He ran a hand through his spiked silvery blonde
hair, his silvery eyebrows raised just for the heck of it. "I'm bored, bored,
bored, bored-diddy-bored, bored, bored," he sang to himself.
He
rolled over, trying to get comfortable, and shrieked with pain. "Ugh! I demand
of you! Who has dared pierce my highly worshiped royal skin?" he yelled to
nobody inparticular. "Oh." He shrugged to himself as saw a little dart that
went to his dartboard he had left out. Smirking, he flung it over his shoulder,
eyes closed, in the direction of the dartboard. He heard the familiar thump of
his accurate and much practiced aim and turned to see where his dart had gone.
On the dartboard was of course, who else, but Potter's picture, and his special
little dart had managed to beam Potter right in his stupid scar. Draco laughed
coldly to himself and flung himself back around on his bed, staring at the
ceiling.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Hermione Granger slipped on her
shoes for no reason except she liked the feel of them as she sat down on her
porch swing. Ron and the Weasley's would be there any moment to pick her up for
the rest of the summer, and Harry would be joining them in a few days. Over the
summer, she had discovered she had somewhat of a crush on Ron; now that Viktor
was safely back in Bulgaria where he belonged. She smiled to herself serenely
as she thought of the shiny silver prefect badge locked away safely in her
trunk. That was what she had worked for the past four years, and she had gotten
it. Harry got one too, but unfortunately Ron hadn't, and he was quite mopey
about it. Hermione thought it better if she just didn't mention anymore about
it if possible. She was also really looking forward to seeing Ginny, who was
getting quite beautiful indeed. If Harry didn't notice Ginny this year, then he
needed even thicker glasses, she thought to herself.
Her
parents were both at work of course, so she had just shut the door to their
snug, comfy two-story house that was designed as though it were a farmhouse.
Her chocolate eyes narrowed their long, black lashes as some wind blew, making
her long, brown hair flail a little. Yes, the hair that had been bushy had
started to straighten itself a bit over the summer, so Hermione was hopeful it
would be very pretty soon. Laughing slightly, she peered down at the long jeans
and the light pink cashmere shirt she was wearing, and thought how strange she
would look to the Weasley's.
Suddenly,
from the sky, they came down, and Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley
landed lightly on the grass. Hermione grabbed her trunk and ran, grinning, down
the steps to give each one a very large hug. The twins tried to back away
playfully, but Hermione ended up huggling them anyhow. She hugged Ron deeply
and realized how cute he looked, and both kissed and hugged Mrs. Weasley.
Lastly, she hugged Ginny, who did look very stunning for a girl of fourteen.
"Hey guys! Thank you so much for letting me stay at the Burrow again, I'm so
excited!" she cried.
"Oh
you're welcome, honey. Have your broom?" asked Mrs. Weasley patting her hand.
She grinned to Ron, who looked suspiciously at her, scrutinizing her every
move.
"Yes,
Ron, I do own a broom you know," she laughed, and produced one that she had
magically collapsed in her trunk. "See? It's a Nimbus2001 that my parents I
guess bought me for summer practice," she grinned. Fred and George nearly
pounced on it.
"Mind
if we check it out for a while then, Hermione? Oh, I say, George, look at this
wonderful craftsmanship!" cried Fred, staring in awe at the shiny, sleek
well-kept racing broom.
"Sure,"
Hermione laughed. "Do you guys want to come inside for some lemonade for a
minute before we get going? I just made some, and if I do say so myself it's
pretty good. Come on," she waved them in, picking up her trunk, and so everyone
piled into the Granger home. George and Fred busied themselves playing with the
television, and making shouts of exclamation when something 'surprising'
happened. Mrs. Weasley poured them all glasses; always the motherly one, and
Ginny, Ron, and Hermione sat down at the kitchen table while Mrs. Weasley went to
make sure the twins didn't break anything.
"So,
'Mione, how's the summer been treating you?" Ron asked, sipping some of his
lemonade while Hermione got up to get some frosted oatmeal cookies from the
cupboard.
"Pretty
good, I've been sort of bored without you guys and Harry around, and I miss
Hogwarts and all the rest of the people there, you know?" she filled a big
plate full and set it in the center of the table. Ron picked one up, and turned
it over carefully, staring in awe since he'd never seen one before. Ginny
didn't care if she' never seen it, and took a bite out of one.
"Yeah,
I know what you mean. It's hard not having you around Herm, because all boys
are no fun sometimes," laughed Ginny, tucking a strand of waist-length dark red
hair behind her ear. Her cinnamon eyes sparkles with amusement as she watched
Ron take a little nibble of the cookie, turn it over in his hand again, tap it,
and then take another nibble. "Honestly Ron, just eat it," she rolled her eyes.
Hermione
laughed. "Yeah, they're actually pretty good," and she bit into one. "What are
we all giving Harry for his birthday tomorrow? We have to send it via owl of
course because he's not coming to your house till next week… I got him a very
large chocolate cake with vanilla icing and a card and a few Quidditch books,"
Ginny
sighed dreamily. Hermione thought Harry quite lucky that Ginny was still in
love with him after all this time. "I got him one of every sweet in
Honeyduke's," she smiled to herself, and Ron smirked to Hermione.
"And
I got him some stuff from Zonko's and a cake," he smiled. "Well, we're sending
him enough sweets then. I still can't believe those stupid Muggles are making
that Dudley kid be on a diet. He's the size of an elephant now, or so Harry
wrote me. It's hilarious, it is,"
Ginny
and Hermione laughed. "Yes," Hermione agreed. "I really feel sorry for him.
Hopefully he can go and live with Snuffles soon,"
"Snuffles?"
asked Ginny.
"Nobody,"
snapped Ron. "Mind your own business," Ginny rolled her eyes as he finished,
and took another sip of her lemonade.
"Brothers
are boring. Herm, why can't you be my sister?" she said dejectedly, crossing
her arms resolutely and giving Ron a slight glare. Hermione grinned.
"I
think I know how you feel," she poked Ron because he was trying to dissect the
oatmeal cookie or something, and Hermione shook her head not to. Ron shrugged
and plopped it all at once into his mouth. Ginny gave Hermione a look that
meant 'See what I mean? What dolts men are!' and Hermione half-agreed when she
thought of the boys she knew. There was Harry and Ron of course, and they were
cool, and Fred and George were great, and Bill and Charlie Weasley were pretty
cool too. Percy was sort of a git, as Fred and George had so blatantly put it
many times before, not to mention some of the guys at school, like Neville for
instance, who had asked her to the Yule Ball the previous year. And then there
were the boys she despised: Malfoy, and even Crabbe and Goyle. Hermione
shuddered just remembering that going back to Hogwarts meant seeing them. After
a while, of course, they all mounted their brooms and began to fly for the
Burrow.
Hermione
didn't feel so passionately about flying as Ron did, and her feelings about it
didn't even resemble Harry's in the slightest. She felt kind of woozy when she
boarded one, and when she was actually up in the air she found it kind of
uncomfortable and stomach turning. And then, if she ever flew into a cloud, she
got dizzy, and she was always very tense when being high aloft in the heavens,
with pretty good reason too. She could only practice levitating on her broom
all the summed because she really couldn't be seen flying around in her
backyard, now could she? It even risky for the Weasley's to be picking her up
this way, but the Granger household didn't have a fireplace.
Speeding
and speeding along the way, she clutched on until her hands felt sore and her
knuckles were white (in other words, for dear life), but Ginny and Ron flew on either
side of her, talking to her and reassuring her, so she didn't totally bug out
or anything. Even from four years of tedious flying practice at school,
Hermione still had her fear of heights and fear of spiraling downward and
smacking the earth with a thud. That was why she had always been content to
watch as Harry played Quidditch in the stands with Ron, and had never gone out
for the team herself.
It
was a long journey, across England to be exact, so it took about a half hour to
reach the tall, rickety Burrow, but when they did, Hermione was glad she had
flown anyway for the thrill of landing on the soft, dewy grass. It was raining
heavily, but the rain was warm, as many summer showers are, so after they had
gotten her settled in, in Ginny's room, Ron, Ginny and she went out and sort of
danced in the rain. They laughed and splashed and caught raindrops on their
tongues, and as Mrs. Weasley glanced out the window, she thought they'd catch
their death of a cold before the day was done. Ginny was trying to pounce on
Ron from behind, unsuccessfully I might add, and so Hermione took the
opportunity to just be.
It's
a very hard thing to do, that is, to just be. Try it if you like. Hermione
cleared every thought- and I mean every thought, even thinking about not
thinking thoughts, and slowly but surely her breathing rate died away to little
more than nothing, and she was just frozen. Now, I, the author person of this
whole thing, have managed to do what Hermione did right there, and I would like
to see if you can do it too… believe me; it's really hard. Her moment of pure
freeness and understanding did not last long because Ron came charging at her,
grinning, and Hermione laughed, running around the house, him following
closely, and then Ginny was chasing Ron, and Hermione was sort of following
Ginny, so they were basically just going in a big circle.
Hermione
knew she was a very lucky girl to have such amazing friends and family and to
do so well at school. She loved her life and drank in the beauty of the whole
thing, just having fun and living to the fullest. She figured that this fifth
year at Hogwarts ought to be her most amazing, wonderful year yet, what with
her shiny prefect badge and all, and she didn't know how closer to the truth
she could possibly get to.
She
spent the rest of the summer of course with the Weasley's and Harry and one
very good thing was that Harry wasn't completely blind, and had seen that Ginny
at least looked pretty good. The day he came he had peered at her queerly for a
moment, and then embraced her tightly like he did Mrs. Weasley and Hermione.
Near the end of August, a few days before they would go to Diagon Alley, he had
whispered to Ron and Hermione in an undertone about 'how much Ginny had
changed', and he wondered if she still liked him. Ron and Hermione profusely
assured him that she did, and it seemed to Hermione that Harry tucked it in,
somewhere deep in his mind, and would remember that little known fact for
later. Things were most definitely looking up, and Hermione knew that they were
on to bigger and better things.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Bitterly, Draco flung down his
trunk at the foot of his bed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and
sat down upon it, pondering over the events of that first day. That giant oaf,
Hagrid had towed the sissy little first years over the lake in the storm, most
like the one that tumbled down on his first day of magical education four years
ago that day. The sorting ceremony had been a bore as always, and the
frightened little souls the scraggly hat had sorted in to Slytherin were hardly
worthy of their newfound prestigious title. Crabbe had tipped over his pumpkin
juice- twice- but that was nothing out of the ordinary of course, and Goyle had
been trying his very hardest- and this wasn't saying much- to flirt with Pansy
Parkinson to no avail. Pansy was ugly, of course, to Draco's tastes anyway,
with her honey brown hair and light, drab eyes and turned up nose, and of
course she was chubby, but as far as Slytherin girls went, she was actually one
of the prettier ones. She had had a major crush on Draco since like their
second year, and quite frankly, Draco detested it.
Potter
and his fan club were of course acting annoyingly giddy as always, and Weasley
was looking a little upset that both the jumped up Mudblood Granger and Potty
had gotten Prefect and he hadn't. Draco was a prefect too. Unfortunately, he
hated the whole idea of it, but Severus Snape had fixed it so that he would be
in, as some kind of deal with Lucius since they had been friends when they
attended Hogwarts. Guiding the stupid first years to the Slytherin dungeons and
telling them the password, which was 'Gryffindors Stink'. Oh joy,
whoop-de-diddle-doo. Draco was so ecstatic.
Granger
and Potter were both in their glories, but even more so with Granger, being the
bookworm know-it-all she always had been and always would be. Grudgingly, Draco
admitted to himself that she was slightly prettier than Pansy, but perhaps that
was only because Pansy had nearly made him up chuck when she had attempted to
sit on his lap down in the common room, which was why he had moved to the
safety of his dorm. At school he didn't really have the attitude he used with
his parents, but this year he thought he'd kind of mix and match a bit. You know,
give everyone a really big shock. Maybe snap at dearest Professor Snape, or
poke his tongue out at McGonagall and giggle like a girl when he got excited.
Yes, he figured since the stupid nettle wine cure failed to work, leaving his
life still a nightmare, he thought he'd just make everyone else's a living hell
too. Why not? Just for the heck of it.
His
hallucinations had become really very severe, especially when the objects of
them came before Draco's eyes that day. This girl was not one anyone'd expect Draco
Malfoy to be even shedding a precious second thought about it. Draco didn't
even know what had gotten into him… at first he had just started thinking about
how stupid she was, but then he started thinking lightly how smart and free and
pretty she was, and then his thoughts bounded into a couple of dreams that she
was in. He tried to get it to stop, but all that ended up happening was Draco
not being able to get her out of his mind, and then he had dreams about her
every night… sometimes even dancing in the rain with those Weasley's. And the
stupid physiatrist was full of bull, so that was no help to him, and then-
just- now, today, he had actually seen her, and Draco Lucius Malfoy went dizzy.
He
blinked to himself and bit his cheek, glaring at Crabbe who was trying to tie
his shoe, and failing miserably. Crabbe and Goyle were not friends, they were
bodyguards… his protection, his people to be seen around with, the two that
would beat anyone up at a flick of his pretty little wrist. "Duh—Hey, Draco, do
ya think ya could help me?" the big oaf blundered. Draco narrowed his eyes and
put on a 'disgusted' sneer on his face.
"No,"
he snickered, and rose from his uncomfortable position on the trunk. Classes of
course didn't start until the next day of course, but he felt that he should
probably go down to the library and make sure he had all his summer homework
done. He slung his book bag over his shoulder and left, Crabbe still trying to
tie his shoe dumbly. Being a Malfoy, he hardly ever spent time in the library-
he had better things to do, like trying to beat out Potter, but nonetheless he
found the dusty, oak doors, and opened the one he knew was creaky just to
irritate Madame Pince, who in Draco's opinion was a stuck up old cow. (A/N:
Diva D: Remind you of anyone- or should I say anything? LOL!)
The
stuck up old cow herself gave him a disproving look as he shut it behind him,
being as noisy as possible. The library was deserted, and Draco smacked his
forehead, realizing that it was closing. "Young man," called Madame Pince's
throaty, absurd voice. "The library is closing. Please, leave, and return to
your common room," she said, eyes narrowed.
"Aw,
hold your hair on lady, I'm just-" as Draco began, starting to look sulky, he
stopped, as something that looked like a black and brown streak of lightning
flash over to Madame Pince's desk, the whirlwind's hands clenched to the edge
of the desk, peering the Stuck Up Old Cow in the eyes.
"Oh,
please Madame Pince… only just twenty more minutes? Please? It's me! You can
even leave me to lock up like you let me last year! I'm a prefect now, you
know," the girl- for Draco was no slowly realizing with horror that that was
what it was- begged, looking to the old bat imploringly. Madame Pince pushed up
her teal, eye-shaped glasses and puckered her overly lipsticked red lips. Her
grayish-brown hair was tightly curled, and cut short, so she plumped it up a
bit before narrowing her eyelids and extending a tickle-me-pink polished
fingernail over to Draco who was frozen, mid-step.
"Well…
alright. You can lock up, Hermione, I trust you," she said slowly. Draco
twisted his face up in horror, and was glad that his back was turned from the
two females. It was Granger! Madame Pince prodded her finger in the air over to
Draco's direction. "But then you'll have to watch him too," she warned.
Hermione didn't even spin around to see who it was. She didn't really care.
"Ok,
ok, I'll watch him, just please let me lock up!" she cried, bouncing on the
balls of her feet, a trait she had always had when she got overly-excited or
irritated. Madame Pince handed her a shiny silver key, and looked trustingly
into her eyes.
"Thank
you Hermione, I really do need to go talk to Minerva McGonagall about the a
research project she's assigning… so, just do mind you keep an eye on that
young man, and lock the doors when you leave,"
"Of
course, Madame Pince, no problem," Hermione ushered her out, nearly giddy with
the joy of being trusted with so 'great' a responsibility. Draco nearly
screamed, 'Unjust!' but just barely managed to contain himself. As soon as the
door shut, Hermione flung herself around, leaning against the door, sighing
with both relief and bliss. Wait a second, here. She blinked, hoping she was
imagining things.
Draco
couldn't stand it any longer. Okay, okay, so he was not having
hallucinations- he had started to like the promise of a challenge with getting
the Mudblood Granger for a girl. He shrugged to himself, and finally planted
both feet on the firm ground, and decided, with his snotty, spoiled rotten air:
'Whatever I want, I get.' And so that was that.
Perhaps, you,
reader, don't understand how a guy like Draco Malfoy could switch so easily
from hateful malice to having love- or at least controlling- interests
concerning a girl like Hermione Granger, but if you think about it, it would
actually be quite probable. He supposed he always kind of subconsciously
fancied her rude awakenings and the way she stood up to him, and defied him.
Because defiance was what he was all about, and it just all fit in perfectly
that Lucius would be horrified if Draco ever started dating a Mudblood
Gryffindor. 'Yes,' Draco thought. 'Yet another way to anger and confuse and
defy everyone. Hm, I'm so smart!' he complimented himself, and spun around to see
a very pale Hermione grasp the silver key in her hand.
"Malfoy…" she
said in an undertone, her eyes narrowed, fists clenched at her sides. Draco
snorted. He simply must have her! Why hadn't he thought of this whole thing
before? A nice fresh challenge, a little new meat, and the chance to screw
around and manipulate everyone's minds. It was the perfect opportunity! Eyeing
her anger and confusion amusedly, he put a smirk on his face, and clasped his
hands behind his back, taking a light, springy step forward.
"Why, hello
Granger, dear," he said, his voice dripping with sweetness. He batted his long,
black eyelashes at her, and let out a shrill giggle. She stared openly at him
and showed no sign of amusement. Stonily, with a quick gesture of her hand, she
waved her obviously-bitten nails toward the doors.
"Leave," she
said quite plainly, and slowly edged around him, in a circle-ish fashion,
remaining at all times at least two yards away from him, so he was the one that
was closer to the door.
Draco's left
eyebrow twitched and his nostrils flared, as if he were enjoying being booted
out of the library by his supposed enemy. "Why, sweetheart, you treat me like
you don't like me," he mocked, and giggled at his own joked, making himself
flush slightly (something he'd picked up long ago just to look so cute he'd get
what he wanted).
"It's
Her-my-oh-knee," Hermione glared at him. "And what's wrong with you? Turned gay
or something?" she wrinkled her nose and then shruged, as if the question was
better left unanswered. Draco put his palms together, put on a face of mock
happiness and raised his hands up near his cheek, and began clapping in a mock
feminine way. Rolling her eyes, Hermione decided she was most certainly not
going to leave, so she'd just ignore him. "Fine then, if you insist on staying,
just leave me alone," she slammed down her Advanced Transfiguration book for
emphasis. Draco just started to hum and skip around the room like a little
girl.
Scowling, Hermione
began reading by the candlelight and taking notes on a blank sheet of
parchment. She had come to the library, of course, to get some
last-minute-note-taking in, just in case there was something she had forgotten,
and fully intended to do so. She set her book bag down on the table, for easy
access, and began to loose herself in her reading. Draco, behind her, was
oblivious to the fact that she neither cared nor wanted to know what he was
doing, and so he was dancing around on his tip toes in a ballet fashion. He
made believe he was a pretty little fairy princess and it was his grand day at
the ball. All of a sudden, he got the gist that Hermione was too caught up in
her reading, so he giggled loudly. Hermione's head remained bent. Draco glared
at her hair, which undoubtedly smelled delicious…
He shook his
head in utter disbelief. Nah, he didn't really like the jumped up Mudblood, did
he? No, of course not: she was just an easy way to help him do what he wanted
and screw up his life. Right, good then. He began to walk over stealthily- and
rather seductively- toward her turned back, but half way there he tripped
loudly over one of the books she'd accidentally dropped in her earlier
whirlwind. "D*** book! Burn it!" he cried, half blind with anger and embarrassment
at the God forsaken Herbology textbook.
"Have a nice
trip, see you next fall," Hermione said breezily, not even glancing up from her
book. Draco helped himself up, dusted off his robes, and moved to sit at the
empty seat next to her. He pulled it out, sneering to himself. Without glancing
up again, Hermione, with a very quick whack of her hand, shoved her bag off the
table and into the seat, making Draco raise his eyebrows, and walk around the
table and pull out the chair facing her. She shoved a notebook down on that
one. Narrowing his eyes, Draco tried to the one to the right, and Hermione
pushed down a pencil box, but he tried the one to the left, and Hermione pushed
down her Charms book. He blinked, and tried the other chair next to Hermione, but
her lightning fast hand had already pushed down her Care of Magical Creatures
textbook. Draco sighed, and took the chair next to that one, and thankfully for
him, Hermione really couldn't reach. He tried to look cool, and he leaned
backwards, running a hand through his hair, forgetting about making sure all
his homework was done.
All Hermione
did was blink, and flip the large, yellowed page with the spidery, flourished
print on it. "Yo, Granger," Draco sniggered. Hermione clenched her jaw and
cocked her head up at him ever so slightly, annoyed. "Madame Pince said you
were supposed to watch me," he raised an eyebrow, and switched himself and the
COMC book from chair to chair to get closer to her.
"You're a big,
mean, boy Malfoy, you can take care of yourself, I'm so sure," she said coldly
and flipped the page again, continuing on scratching her quill on the other
sheet of parchment. Draco scowled at her bent over head and bent back even
farther in the chair, setting his feet on the table. Hermione set down her
quill, folded her hands, and slowly moved her grim face upward, scrutinizing
his face with a mixture of anger and annoyance. He shrugged to her and put his
hands on his neck, letting his head rest. "Why are you staring at me? Stop it,"
she hissed at him.
"You can't
make me!" he poked his tongue out at her and let his eyes rove across the room.
Uh, books, books, books, oo- window, books, books, books, Granger. What
interesting options he had to choose from… books or Granger, books, Granger…
ha, no contest.
"I thought I
told you to stop it you git," Hermione glared.
"And I thought
I told you, you couldn't make me," he smirked. Hermione grinned. "Holy s***!"
yelped Draco. He was lying on the ground, because he had just toppled over with
the chair when Hermione had been so gracious as to kick him somewhere very not
nice under the table. She collected her books in his moments of agony, and
shoved them into her bag, stomping to the doors and opening them wide. Draco
knew she was leaving, so he managed to grab his bag and race to the door. He
blocked it defensively, and stared at her defiantly. "Ya know, it's funny, I
get this really strange feeling that you don't like me or something," he
sneered.
"Actually, I
don't dislike you," Hermione admitted thoughtfully.
"Really?"
Draco slid a hand through his hair, enjoying the moment, as if Hermione had
just confessed her undying love for him, and had agreed to snog with him for
the rest of her life.
"It's the
truth," she shrugged. "I don't dislike you. I hate your filthy, stinking guts
Malfoy!" she shouted at him, agitated. Ok, so this time he hadn't really done
anything… except for being extremely obnoxious, but Hermione's high-strung
temper was rising at a significant fast rate.
"Are you
leaving then?" he asked lazily.
"No, you are,"
she scowled, and gave him one swift push, slamming the door behind her. Draco,
down on his bum on the floor, papers and books sprawled everywhere, listened to
the familiar sound of a key locking a lock. He groaned to himself. He fallen to
the ground like what, three times in the last five minutes? Okay, so maybe this
whole business wouldn't be so easy…
~*~*~*~*~*~
For the rest of September, Draco
spent his free time scrutinizing Hermione's actions, and spying on her and
Potty and the Weasel and that little red-haired Weasley girl. She talked to and
advised Harry a lot about his girl troubles, and in return, he listened
intently as she admitted her feelings for the Weasel. Draco, of course,
reckoned this would be a problem, but knew exactly how to get around it.
Listening to those two was like watching the romance channel on a Muggle
television. When she talked to Ginny, Hermione laughed a lot and talked about
things girls generally do to each other. But when Hermione talked to Ron, she always
had a faint smile, but bickered with him constantly. Draco easily saw through
her cover-up, and was almost amused about how after an argument with Weasley
was over she turned away to blush. He learned that she took life a lot less
seriously than he remembered her to, and she laughed and smiled a lot more. Her
grades were as always, top notch, and Draco also noticed how her hair had
straightened out even more.
He
saw her one day when everyone was at dinner (he wasn't hungry) down by the
lake, and saw her scribbling- or rather sketching- away dreamily on a piece of
parchment. Quietly, he watched her from afar, and took in how sad she looked in
her eyes, mixed in with the dreaminess and the starry dazzle. In a little while
she got up and left, but the sheet she had been scribbling on fell out of her
bag, and the soft, gentle late September wind blew it closer to him. He chased
it until it was finally clasped in between his pale fingers.
Yeah,
he recognized that loopy, perfect cursive as Hermione's own hand, but what was
written was anything but what the normal, flared-up-temper, argumentative,
bossy, bookworm Granger. It was full of silly hearts and rainbows and clouds
and goofy little sayings telling the world 'I like Ron Weasley', and things
like that. From his careful observation, Draco saw easily that Ron was way too
thick to ever figure out Hermione's feelings unless she told him (which he was
positive she wouldn't). It was a very new concept for him; that someone even so
mature and cold (well at least to him) was capable of feeling such warm,
thrilling emotions he'd never experienced. If Lucius had even taught his son
one thing, it would have had to be to never date or marry for love, only for
influence and money and power.
If
there could be a more perfect time to launch his devious plan into action Draco
couldn't imagine it, so he decided that the very next day he'd begin to make
Hermione Granger all his. His plan you ask? Date and kiss her a little, make
sure he thoroughly confused everyone in the wizarding world, and then dump her
sorry bum in front of everyone. Laughing coldly to himself, he put it in his
pocket, and walked stealthily down to the Slytherin dungeons.
True
to his thoughts, Draco cornered Hermione in the second floor corridor right
after the last class of the day, Charms, the next day. Harry and Ron had
already gone off because of Gryffindor Quidditch practice (Ron wasn't on the
team of course, he'd just come along to watch), and Ginny was away with her
fourth year friends, so Hermione was left well alone. Smiling and waving to
Pansy, Draco walked about seventy centimeters from Hermione, but when they both
turned the corner, the hallway became deserted, so he edged in closer. Hermione
was about to tell him off when he whispered, "I know about your little secret,
Granger," Hermione promptly shoved into the nearest empty classroom.
"Malfoy,
what's up with you? We hate each other for God's sake, so I don't see why just
all of a sudden you're so interested in my own personal life!" she snapped.
"What the heck do you mean by saying you 'know my little secret'? I really
don't have any secrets,"
Draco
leaned against the wall casually. "Oh really then Granger? Well I'll tell you
what little secret I know: Hermione Granger likes Ron Weasley," he sniggered.
Hermione's stomach did a flip flop for two reasons: one was obvious, he did
actually know her secret, and two, it was the first time he'd ever used her
first name.
She
tried her very hardest to look un-amused and calm and she also tried to steady
her trembling hand. She let out a rather shrill forced laugh. "Malfoy, you're
insane and should be sent to St. Mungo's! My God, it's just absurd," she
laughed again. "Imagine… you thinking that I liked Ron," she brought her wrist
level with her shoulder and snapped her wrist as if to say 'Oh please' in a
sarcastic tone. Draco surveyed her in amusement.
"Um,
yeah," he mock grinned as she continued on laughing slightly. He laughed too,
but reached into his pocket, grabbing the parchment, and held it out for her to
see, cutting his laugh off abruptly. Hermione choked and blinked furiously,
making a wild snatch for the paper. "Nuh-uh," Draco shook his head, thoroughly
enjoying her anxiety. "You see, Granger, I'm not giving this back to you,"
Hermione
blinked in horror. "W-what? But you've got to!" she stumbled.
"Nope,
I don't. Instead, Granger, I'm going to help you," Draco held his head
prominently high, as if Hermione should fall down on the floor and kiss his
shoes for speaking. Instead, she rolled her eyes.
"What
exactly do you mean by that?"
"Please,
be seated," he waved his hand toward the desks. Grudgingly, she sat; arms
propped up to support her head. He paced around in front of her, much like a
professor would do. "I'm a guy," he stated.
"No
s***, Sherlock,"
He
glared at Hermione. "I'm a guy, so I know how we of the male species think. Let
me tell you, Weasley doesn't even know that you have any feelings for him
whatsoever. You're a smart girl, I'm sure you've noticed. I'm also sure you've
become familiar with that beastly Weasley temper, and this brings me to my
point,"
"Which
is?"
"If
you want Weasel to like you, you have to make him angry so his temper gets
aroused. In order to make him angry, you should make him jealous. It's all very
relative in theory. Do you follow me?"
"Yes,
but I wish you'd get to the point soon,"
"Fine,
fine, and how do you go about getting Weasley angry and jealous then? Date
someone else of course! That stupid Viktor Krum didn't exactly do the trick for
you last year because Weasel hero-worshipped him. Do you understand?" Hermione
nodded, peering curiously at him. Imagine what this was all like for her: your
arch enemy suddenly being interested in you, getting an almost complete
personality check, and actually making sense. She almost- just almost- felt
woozy. "So, Granger, who ya gonna date then?" he narrowed his eyes. Hermione
met his eye gazing challenge.
"Seamus,"
she blinked, determined not to let Malfoy snub her.
"Too
short,"
"Dean,"
"Too
pushy,"
"Neville,"
"Too
idiotic even for you,"
"Fine
then, Justin Finch-Fletchy,"
"Uh-
yeah, right, Granger…"
"Is
there any point to this whatsoever?"
"Yes,"
"Then
kindly move along quicker so I can leave,"
"Hold
your hat on. I'll tell you who you're going to date,"
"Who?"
"Me!"
"YOU!?"
Hermione nearly had a heart attack between her thoughts that Malfoy really did
need to be sent to St. Mungo's, laughing so hard, and getting the biggest
surprise of her entire life all at once. She was cracking up, tearing at the
eyes in fact, and Draco stood scowling at her, hands on his hips, looking dead
serious. "Oh- oh," Hermione tried to stop her laughter, and managed to
subdue it down to a giggle. "You're serious," she coughed into her fist, wiping
her eyes.
"D***
right I'm serious!" he sent her a death glare, his handsome face contorted into
his famous spoiled snob five-year-old expression. Hermione proceeded to try to
look a bit serious over the whole thing, but in her mind she knew she'd never
she Draco Malfoy in the same fashion again. He puckered his lips, pouting, and
tapped his foot impatiently on the floor. "Well?"
"Well
what?" Hermione asked, a huge grin plastered on her face. Wait until she told
Harry, Ron, and Ginny about this little escapade—or wait, she couldn't tell
Ron. Darn it!
"Well,
are you going to date me to make Weasley like you or not?" he sighed, pacing
around again. Hermione smirked.
"Uh,
let me think about that for a second… no!"
Draco
rolled his eyes. "Think, Granger. You agree that it's probably the only way to
arouse Weasel's interests in you, am I correct?" he waited for her answer
almost nervously, his hands again behind his back, clasped together. Hermione
surveyed him with interest.
"Yes,
I agree. But there are lots of things I don't understand. For one, why you even
care if Ron likes me or not, two, why you're even speaking to me, three, you
must be on medication or something to even propose such a stupid idea, four,
what's in this whole deal for you, and five, how a Gryffindor and Slytherin
could have had an almost civil conversation," she waited for his answers,
watching him pace.
"One,
I don't care if you and the Weasel end up snogging of not, two, I'm only
speaking to you because I want to make a deal, three, I'm not on medication and
it's not a stupid idea, four, I get lots of benefits such as being able to make
a lot of people furious with me and screw around with everyone's minds, and
five, I think we've made history by doing so. Happy?"
"No.
So what exactly are you proposing Malfoy?"
"Quite
simple. I'm saying we should act like we like each other and date. You're the
perfect opportunity for me to amaze and awe everyone, especially Lucius. I love
defying people, and this year I want to make sure everyone's head spins. I'm
gonna make sure one way or another I get everybody wrapped right around my
pretty little finger this year, and I'm going to give everyone a h*** of a
ride. You know, Granger, shake everyone up, cause havoc, make a complete fool
of myself and disgrace the family name. Yeah, that's about why I want to
pretend to date you. Now, for you, when Weasley sees that you're dating me- a
Slyth and his arch enemy- his head's gonna roll. Naturally, once we hook him
along for awhile (and everyone else in the process) we 'dump' each other and
you run right into the Weasel's filthy arms. Get that? It's like that old
saying, 'You don't know what you got until you loose it'. And so now, I'm going
to give you some time- like three minutes- to figure out if you accept the
challenge. I'll have you know that if you do, you have to follow my lead, and
when I say jump, you say how high, got it? I'm taking this thing to the
extreme, whether you want along for the ride or not,"
Hermione
blinked. So, she thought it over silently. She did have to admit his logic was
undeniable, and she did really want Ron to notice her in that way… Even her
complicated and knowledgeable mind couldn't figure out another way to really
get Ron shaken up, and it was in fact true, that Malfoy would be the perfect one
to help her. But then there was the whole thing about her Gryffindor pride and
her spirit and her honor. If she were to make this deal, it would mean that she
would let all of those things slip from her fingers like grains of sand. She
could in time earn it all back, of course, because she was after all Hermione
Granger, but to put her life morals in jeopardy? Perhaps reader, you've ever
been in love, or a very deep and desperate like, and if this is the case, then
you know how your emotions cloud your mind and practically push you off the
deep end. And this was why, when Draco so rudely announced her time up, she
spat out her answer:
"Okay,
okay… I'll do it," she whispered, swallowing deeply, her eyes pinched shut.
"Even though I know it's like selling my soul to the devil," she muttered as an
afterthought. Draco didn't care, he just smirked royally at her, contemplating
the possibilities. He had Granger, now all he had to do was carry out his
devious plan. This was going to be good.
I need someone; I won't stop till I find the one, who
will stop the longing in my life. I need someone; I won't stop till I find the
one that will stop the longing in my love. I'm super girl, and I'm here to save
the world, but I wanna know who's gonna save me. I'm super girl, and I'm here
to save the world, but I wanna know why I feel so alone. I'm super girl, and I
wanna know who's gonna save me. I'm super girl, and I'm here to save the world,
and I wanna know why I feel so alone. I'm super girl, I wanna know who's gonna
save me. 'Cause I'm super girl, and I'm here to save the world, but I wanna
know who's gonna save me…
-- Super Girl, by Krystal Harris, as lyrics are on the
soundtrack to The Princess Diaries, licensed to Krystal Harris and Walt Disney
Incorporations.
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