By Serendipity
Author's Note: Here it is: the much anticipated chapter two of TMTM! I've got pretty much the whole plot worked out and let me tell you guys now to get ready for an emotional roller coaster ride. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own the HP world; J.K. does.
The Brewing Storm
The enchanted ceiling was a breathtaking cerulean blue with thin, wispy clouds swirling about across it. The Great Hall was filled with bright morning sunshine, creating a sort of homey feel, which was emphasized with the mouth-watering aroma of bacon, eggs, and toast. Pleasant morning chatter could be heard from all tables, and even Snape seemed to be less vindictive this morning. He was sitting at the High Table talking in a quite congenial manner to McGonagall.
Hermione Granger, her ankle completely healed now, walked in with somewhat of a skip. There was a light in her eyes, she was smiling broadly, and swinging her school bag in her left hand. She received some jealous looks from non-morning people who were practically sleeping in their own breakfasts, but Hermione was oblivious to them. She was in an extremely good mood, and for once it wasn't because of a test.
"Good morning, everyone!" Hermione greeted cheerfully, sliding in next to Ron at the Gryffindor table. Harry and Ginny sat opposite of them. Ginny was running her fingers through Harry's messy mane, no doubt trying to tame the thick locks in vain. Hermione smiled, they made such a cute couple.
"Morning, Mione!" Ron retorted, helping himself to some more eggs. "Who sprinkled you with happy dust this morning?"
Hermione rested her chin on her hand and looked past Harry and Ginny to the Slytherin table where Draco was looking rather grumpy with Pansy's arm locked into his own, her head resting on his shoulder. Ron followed her gaze with slitted eyes. Draco caught Hermione's eye and sent her a small smile and inclination of his head. Hermione's smile widened and she began filling her plate. Ron looked at her quizzically.
"So how was your detention last night with Malfoy?" he asked testily.
"Absolutely spiffy!" Hermione answered, digging into her eggs.
"Why?" Ron asked. "Did Snape turn him into a ferret? That would be spiffy to me."
"No," replied Hermione once more. "He was just really civil, that's all."
"Draco, civil? What did Hell freeze over or something?" Harry asked, finally joining in on the conversation.
Hermione shrugged. She was watching the Slytherin table once more. Draco whispered something into Pansy's ear. Pansy sent a menial glare Hermione's way and shoved Draco off. Draco rose from the table and headed towards the Gryffindor Table. The morning sunlight danced upon his blonde locks and his eyes were filled with mischief. They made Hermione nervous.
"Hello, Hermione!" Draco shyly greeted with a slight smile.
Ron rose, blocking Hermione from Draco's view.
"What the hell do you want?" Ron demanded. Harry stood to back Ron up if a fight pursued.
Draco narrowed his eyes menacingly.
"Although beating the bloody hell out of both of you sounds very appealing, I have actually came to give Hermione her wand back!"
Draco reached into his cloak and pulled out Hermione's wand. Ron snatched it from his hand forcefully.
"There, you returned it, now leave!"
Draco glared at Ron, then Harry, before finally leaving. Ron set Hermione's wand on the table and glared at her angrily.
"Stay away from Malfoy, Hermione," he warned. "Malfoy's never change!"
Not wanting to start a fight, Hermione nodded her head and finished her breakfast in silence.
The weather was unusually warm for late October. So warm in fact that wearing a cloak was unnecessary. The seventh year Gryffindor boys decided to take advantage of this warm weather and made their way outside to play a friendly game of Quiditch. The game was exhilarating with the warm breeze whipping their hair back and with Neville finishing with a comical stunt much like the one he pulled during their first flying lesson all those years ago.
Exhausted from the game and not wanting to go in just yet, the boys relaxed on the freshly cut grass. Soon the conversation went to the peculiar way Hermione was acting toward Draco.
"I don't like it, Harry," Ron said kicking his discarded broom.
Harry Potter looked up, his jet-black locks falling into his emerald eyes, a sucker stick between his teeth being thoughtfully chewed upon. The sun was setting red behind the high Quiditch stands that rose behind him, and the warm wind whipped his button down shirt around him.
"I know, Ron. I don't like it either."
"I can't believe that Hermione would be so nice to Draco," stated Seamus, who was lying on his back, staring at the vast firmament. "Don't worry, it probably won't amount to anything."
"It better not!" snapped Ron.
Harry was about to say something to comfort his best friend, but was distracted by a group of Slytherins entering the Quiditch pitch. Draco was leading them, a devilish grin upon his face.
"Trouble," Harry stated, standing. The others looked up and stood as well. The Slytherins stopped in front of them.
"Well, look what we have here boys," said Draco, glaring at Harry, "disgraces to the wizarding world. Still breathing, Harry?"
Harry glared.
"Deatheater yet, Draco?"
Draco scowled and quickly pulled out his wand, pointing it at Harry's chest.
"Take that back, Pothead!" Draco spat.
The others, Slytherin and Gryffindor alike pulled out their wands. The group of boys began circling each other menacingly.
"Stay away from Hermione, Malfoy!" Ron warned, his wand mere inches away from Crabbe's chest.
"Don't worry, Weasel! I can't have the Mudblood anyway!"
That was enough for Ron. A wave of fire burst from his wand, scorching Crabbe's left arm terribly. The others followed his suit; flames came from every wand. The Quiditch pitch was soon set ablaze, the fires coming deathly close to the teenagers, but none noticed. Soon Harry and Draco found themselves alone, surrounded by flames. Both had their wands pointed at one another, and both were screaming with hatred for each other.
"Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy! Drop your wands NOW!"
Harry and Draco looked up simultaneously to find Dumbledore, accompanied by Snape and McGonagall, flying on brooms overhead. Each teacher had their wands pointed firmly at the boys. Ominous black clouds were gathering quickly, the wind picking up. Maybe it was because of the fire, but the temperature was rising steadily to feel more like summer than fall.
"I...SAID...DROP...YOUR...WANDS!!!"
Both teens raised their arms slowly and released their grip. Their wands fell to the ground.
"This is the third time this year!" Dumbledore bellowed his cool eyes placed upon the pack of boys staring at their feet in his office. "The third time! These aren't the small brawls between Gryffindor and Slytherin that we used to have! These fights are getting more and more deadly! Someone could have been killed!"
Rain splattered against the window behind Dumbledore, and a distant thunder rumbled.
"Not to mention that it'll take a good part of a month to get the Quiditch pitch back to normal after the blaze you set upon it!" he added, rubbing his temples.
The boys uttered a series of 'Sorry Headmaster's. Dumbledore's anger subsided a bit and he sighed.
"The war is out there, boys, not in here, and I will not tolerate any more of this nonsense. Is that clear?"
The boys, excluding Harry and Draco, nodded their heads. Dumbledore glared at them.
"Mr. Potter? Mr. Malfoy? Is that clear?"
Still, neither teen responded.
"If either of you wish to continue your education at this school, then I suggest that you shake hands this instant!"
Slowly, Harry and Draco, their eyes filled with hatred, turned toward each other and forcefully shook hands. At that moment a bolt of lightening streaked through the sky and the thunder boomed, shaking the room.
Draco ascended the steps to his dormitory. He had a cut on the left side of his face and was exhausted from the fight. All he wanted to do was sleep; however, someone was already sitting upon his bed.
"Father!" Draco exclaimed, trying to rub off the bits of dried blood and dirt that were on him.
"What the hell happened to you?" Lucius demanded, though he couldn't have cared in the least.
"Fought with some Gryffindors," Draco replied.
A thin smile formed on Lucius's lips, and Draco saw a spark in his father's eyes.
"Good," the older man remarked. "Let the war spread to Dumbledore's safe haven. Let it poison the children attending here until all they know is hate!"
Draco swallowed a lump in his throat.
"So, what are you doing here, Father?" he asked.
The spark went out in Lucius's eyes.
"I hear that you are not happy with the marriage proposal," he replied. "I would hardly think that my son was an ungrateful, little..."
"I am grateful Father, really I am it's just..."
"Well?!" Lucius spat out.
"I just don't love Pansy."
"Love?" Lucius whispered, glaring at Draco. "Love has nothing to do with it, boy!"
Lucius pointed his wand at Draco who flew against the wall. The older man strode over and picked his son up by the hair. He took a hold of Draco's wrist and twisted it behind his back, pressing Draco's face up to the stone wall.
"You will be grateful! You will marry Pansy! You will spread hatred through out this school! And you WILL..." Lucius paused and looked at Draco's wrist, drawing a pattern on it with his thumb, "become a Deatheater when you are eighteen!"
"Yes, sir," Draco managed to say with his teeth clenched in pain.
"That's a good boy," Lucius said at last, letting Draco go. Draco fell to the floor, panting. "Now," Lucius continued, "clean yourself up! You look as dirty as a Mudblood." Lightening illuminated the room as Lucius left, revealing Draco lying balled up on the floor-crying.
Another Author's Note: Well there it is! Sorry about not having any Draco/Hermione in this chapter, but I need to emphasize the Gry vs Sly fighting and stuff. And that Harry's the leader of Gryffindor and Draco's the leader of Slytherin. I also wanted you guys to know that Draco is definitely not like his dad who I would like to add is EVIL!!!! Well that's it. -gets out wand- Reviewidus!