Different Deep Down

by AngelzGaze



"Hermione!" Hermione turned around to see Draco. "Meet me tomorrow at the Charms Corridor at midnight." Hermione nodded and Draco turned around and left.

'Hmmmm . . . I never knew we had so much in common,' Hermione thought. 'I mean we must if we suggested the same thing at the same time. He seems different. Sweeter. God no! No, no, no! This is not happening.' But she knew it was. She was developing a crush on her worst enemy, Draco Malfoy.

Hermione opened the door and to her surprise someone was sitting in her seat!



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Chapter 3: Déesse DeMal



"Hermione! Meet Dés . . . Déassie . . . " Ron said, trying to pronounce the stranger's name.

"My name is Déesse DeMal," the girl smiled. "You guys may call me Déssie if you want to." The girl had blonde hair that flowed down to her mid-back. Her green eyes twinkled and it was obvious that both boys were attracted to her as both of them had their eyes focused on her.

"Pleasure I'm sure," replied Hermione.

"Same to you."

"Sorry to say, but that's MY seat."

"Oh was it really?"

"Hermione, you can sit over there you know," said Harry, gesturing toward the spot next to him.

"Fine." She pouted, but reluctantly sat down.

"Déssie's a transfer student from Beauxbatons," Harry stated.

"Oh, really? Gosh, I'm getting hungry. Where's the food?" asked Hermione.

"Errr . . . well . . . with hearing Déssie's stories, we started eating until we, well, ate it all. I'm really sorry, honestly," Ron said. He really did seem sorry.

"Oh well, I get that's what you get when you're gone for a PREFECT meeting," Hermione replied, evidently trying to impress Déssie.

"Are you a Prefect? I've been asked to be one, but I rejected so I could spend more time on school work."

"Déssie, here, was top of her year at her old school!" said Ron.

"Well, I wasn't that good," blushed Déssie.

"Oh yes, you were! You don't have to be modest!" replied Harry.

"Well, ok, I guess you could say I was good."

"Looks like you have some competition here Hermione!" smiled Ron. Hermione scowled. She had always been top of their year.

"Excuse me, but I'm going to the front for some food." Hermione stormed off. Looking for Ginny or someone else to sit with. She defiantly didn't want to sit with Déssie for the rest of the way.

'Who does she think she is?! I know it's just an act!' thought Hermione. 'That Déesse De . . . wait a minute! Déesse DeMal! That's like Déesse De Mal! Which in French is Goddess of the Evil! No, that can't be possible! Maybe it's just a coincidence! But no, that can't be true. She's from Beauxbatons. That's French. If she's French, then her parents would know that Déesse DeMal means Goddess of the Evil! Oh god, I just have to think about it.'

"Hermione? Why are you walking back and forth? Is something wrong?" asked Ginny.

"Oh no, Ginny, nothing's wrong. Do you mind if I sit with you and your friends?"

"Sure you can!" grinned Ginny. Hermione walked in the compartment with Ginny.

"Girls, you know Hermione right?" All the girls nodded. Hermione talked with Ginny and her friends, and got dressed in their Hogwarts robes. Soon the train had gone to a stop and they were there at Hogwarts!

They went across the lake, went into the Great Hall, and settled at their house tables. Soon the First Years were in the hall, waiting to get sorted. Professor McGonagall set the old sorting hat onto the stool. Then, as tradition, the sorting hat bursted into a song. At the end, as usual, everyone clapped.

"Now, when I call your name, alphabetically, you shall sit on the stool, I shall put the sorting hat upon your head and we shall wait until the hat decides where to put you," Professor McGonagall explained. I looked among the First Years, some looked relieved, others looked afraid. Then Professor McGonagall pulled out a scroll.

"Abilika, Abbie."

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Apialoian, Kyle."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Apialoian, Tyler."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Davein, Patricia."

"HUFFLEPUFF!" Soon all the First Years were sorted and Professor Dumbledore stood up to say something.

"This year we will have a new student, a Fifth Year, an exchange student from Beauxbatons. She shall be sorted now. Déesse DeMal!"

"You can call me Déssie." She sat on the stool for a whole minute, until the hat opened its rim and shouted..........



Disclaimer Poem:

I don't own anybody,

anything, or anyone

Hey, I'm just writing this story

for good great fun

Again I don't own anything

So please don't sue

And remember this thing:

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