DISCLAIMER - I do not own any of the characters or places mentioned. These belong to J.K. Rowling (best author ever...next to J.R.R. Tolkein).
HERMIONE'S WRATH
Harry, Ron, and Hermione plopped down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. They had just come from a rather trying period of Potions with the professor they most detested, Severus Snape. Hermione sighed, placing her many fifth year books in front of her.
"Snape is just not going to let up on us is he?"
"Doubt it. I think he set a record. That must have been the worst class we've had to sit through yet." Said Ron miserably, his head on his hands.
This was true. The class had started as normal, Snape storming into the room amid his air of anger and hatred. They were wrapping up a lesson on polyjuice potions that they had been working on for months. Things took a turn for the worse when the three tested their potion, to find it worked perfectly. They had each successfully transformed into one another and were quite amused. Snape, who despised any kind of success on their part, decided they had cheated since their's happened to be the only drink that had any effect, (though Neville had turned himself into part frog).
In actuality they hadn't cheated. They had merely applied the knowledge they acquired in their second year when they "studied" the information of the potion, shall we say, independently, which technically wasn't cheating. But, without substantiating any kind of proof to back his decision, Snape failed them and took 50 points from Gryffindor. This raised much protest, and 5 more points were removed. Hermoine attempted to reason with him but was promptly shut up with a:
"Silence Potter!...I mean Ms. Grang-just take your seat!"
And with a finally bark of "Detention!" Snape returned to his desk leaving the three friends, as well as many Gryffindors, scowling in his direction and many Slytherins smirking with content.
Now, back to their original forms, the tempers of the three were worn and they weren't much looking forward to going to Divination. Hermione just wanted to sit in the library and let the day pass her by. Ron wanted to play a soothing game of Wizard's Chess. And Harry wanted to take a few laps around the Quidditch pitch to calm himself. But they all knew this wasn't in the cards for them, and settled with complaining to one another and relaxing in the Great Hall for a few moments before their next class.
Ron pulled out a magazine on Quidditch and opened it to the page that he had turned to almost a hundred times that day and a million times that week. There it was, sailing across the page (literally). The fastest broom being manufactured to date. The Firebolt Ex. He gazed at it longingly. Harry noticed his expression and gave him a sympathetic pat.
"Some day my friend. You really should stop torturing yourself though."
"I know." He sighed sorrowfully. "Do you think if I begged hard enough my parents would buy it for me?"
This was said sarcastically as Ron knew his family did not have the money and probably never would. But before Harry could answer, a voice dripping with disdain spoke in his place.
"Oh, that might be risky. Could put your family in the poor house. God knows you're practically there as it is."
The sadistic voice grated harshly against their already stressed nerves. They turned to face the sickening sneer of their enemy, Draco Malfoy, flanked by his brainless sidekicks Crabbe and Golye who displayed their usual brainless expressions.
"Sod off, Malfoy, I'm not in the mood for your little commentary right now." Ron bitterly replied, turning his back to him.
Malfoy had been the one to laugh particularily loud at the trio when Snape had served his injustice. That, coupled with the fact that he had tormented them during all their years at Hogwarts, made him the last person they wanted to see.
"Sharp bite there, eh Weasel? I guess lack of money will do that to you."
With that, Harry and Hermione were holding their red-haired and even redder faced friend back from tearing Malfoy apart. They tugged on his robes and pulled him away.
"Come on, Ron." Hermione said calmly in his ear. "We've got to get going to class, it's a long walk. Just ignore him."
She said this without much heart because she didn't blame Ron for becoming so enraged. Deep down, though rising at the rate of a freight train, she had the urge to tell Malfoy off herself. To put him in his place just once, no matter how corny or dramatic she looked or sounded. She suppressed these feelings however, as she noticed her efforts to calm her friend had been effective and he wasn't struggling anymore.
But Malfoy wasn't finished with them. As they turned to leave he quipped with disgust, "Taking orders from a mudblood. Pathetic."
And that did it. At those words, any inhibitions Hermione had been fighting with simply vanished. She stopped and closed her eyes. Her friends watched worriedly as she started to look like she would tear the head off a Hippogriff at any second. Her heart pounded in her ears and she felt the blood rush to her anger-filled head. Without warning she whipped around to face Malfoy, causing him to blink in shock. She stared straight into his eyes as she began to rip into him.
"You honestly believe that you know everything, don't you Malfoy?" She hissed.
He moved back as she advanced, not liking where this was going.
"I mean you think you've got it all figured out, that you know where everything stands? Well guess what?"
She moved in closer, glaring, not wanting to give him a chance to speak.
"You're a bloody foolish prat to believe that, even for a second. Because reality is, you know dick-all. About anything. You barely even know where you yourself stand without your parents telling you."
The entire hall began to quiet then, as her voice rose above everything. Hermione forged ahead.
"And I pity you, I do, because you are going to have an awfully rude awakening when you have to face the real world without the protection of your 'dear daddy'. And I also pity you for that day when you realize that you and your precious family have wasted their lives, devoting them to the cause of a warped, twisted, malicious, treacherous, deceitful snake named Voldemort-" Everyone cringed at his name "-who cares for nothing but himself and his own convoluted idea that purebloods are far better than muggle borns."
Taking a steadying breath, she spoke more quietly. "But I especially pity you Malfoy, because you've grown up under the impression that showing any emotion and, heaven forbid, being kind to people makes you a weak person."
Her expression softened, almost looking as if she did pity him somewhat.
"That means that when it comes down to it, you will be too afraid to love anyone, and everyone will be too afraid to love you, leaving you all alone. And alone is a lonely way to live."
She let the words sink in a moment and backed off from her offensive stance. Then, speaking louder, she continued.
"So, I say good luck to you. And I mean it," she scoffed, "Because you're dreadfully going to need all the luck you can get when your world starts to fall apart, which it undoubtedly will. And you had just better start praying, Malfoy, that you'll be able to survive it."
She finally tore her angry gaze from his face, which now resembled a fish with his eyes and mouth open wide.
Hermione gave a small, tired laugh. "But why am I telling you this? I mean it doesn't matter. Because you're rich. Right?" She asked him.
He simply stood there, not knowing how to respond to her outburst, but visibly fuming.
Finally satisfied, Hermione nodded a "Good day" as she turned and left with her friends who slowly followed, just as astonished as anyone. She smiled slightly to herself as she opened the doors, and the crowd of on-lookers burst into applause.
HERMIONE'S WRATH
Harry, Ron, and Hermione plopped down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. They had just come from a rather trying period of Potions with the professor they most detested, Severus Snape. Hermione sighed, placing her many fifth year books in front of her.
"Snape is just not going to let up on us is he?"
"Doubt it. I think he set a record. That must have been the worst class we've had to sit through yet." Said Ron miserably, his head on his hands.
This was true. The class had started as normal, Snape storming into the room amid his air of anger and hatred. They were wrapping up a lesson on polyjuice potions that they had been working on for months. Things took a turn for the worse when the three tested their potion, to find it worked perfectly. They had each successfully transformed into one another and were quite amused. Snape, who despised any kind of success on their part, decided they had cheated since their's happened to be the only drink that had any effect, (though Neville had turned himself into part frog).
In actuality they hadn't cheated. They had merely applied the knowledge they acquired in their second year when they "studied" the information of the potion, shall we say, independently, which technically wasn't cheating. But, without substantiating any kind of proof to back his decision, Snape failed them and took 50 points from Gryffindor. This raised much protest, and 5 more points were removed. Hermoine attempted to reason with him but was promptly shut up with a:
"Silence Potter!...I mean Ms. Grang-just take your seat!"
And with a finally bark of "Detention!" Snape returned to his desk leaving the three friends, as well as many Gryffindors, scowling in his direction and many Slytherins smirking with content.
Now, back to their original forms, the tempers of the three were worn and they weren't much looking forward to going to Divination. Hermione just wanted to sit in the library and let the day pass her by. Ron wanted to play a soothing game of Wizard's Chess. And Harry wanted to take a few laps around the Quidditch pitch to calm himself. But they all knew this wasn't in the cards for them, and settled with complaining to one another and relaxing in the Great Hall for a few moments before their next class.
Ron pulled out a magazine on Quidditch and opened it to the page that he had turned to almost a hundred times that day and a million times that week. There it was, sailing across the page (literally). The fastest broom being manufactured to date. The Firebolt Ex. He gazed at it longingly. Harry noticed his expression and gave him a sympathetic pat.
"Some day my friend. You really should stop torturing yourself though."
"I know." He sighed sorrowfully. "Do you think if I begged hard enough my parents would buy it for me?"
This was said sarcastically as Ron knew his family did not have the money and probably never would. But before Harry could answer, a voice dripping with disdain spoke in his place.
"Oh, that might be risky. Could put your family in the poor house. God knows you're practically there as it is."
The sadistic voice grated harshly against their already stressed nerves. They turned to face the sickening sneer of their enemy, Draco Malfoy, flanked by his brainless sidekicks Crabbe and Golye who displayed their usual brainless expressions.
"Sod off, Malfoy, I'm not in the mood for your little commentary right now." Ron bitterly replied, turning his back to him.
Malfoy had been the one to laugh particularily loud at the trio when Snape had served his injustice. That, coupled with the fact that he had tormented them during all their years at Hogwarts, made him the last person they wanted to see.
"Sharp bite there, eh Weasel? I guess lack of money will do that to you."
With that, Harry and Hermione were holding their red-haired and even redder faced friend back from tearing Malfoy apart. They tugged on his robes and pulled him away.
"Come on, Ron." Hermione said calmly in his ear. "We've got to get going to class, it's a long walk. Just ignore him."
She said this without much heart because she didn't blame Ron for becoming so enraged. Deep down, though rising at the rate of a freight train, she had the urge to tell Malfoy off herself. To put him in his place just once, no matter how corny or dramatic she looked or sounded. She suppressed these feelings however, as she noticed her efforts to calm her friend had been effective and he wasn't struggling anymore.
But Malfoy wasn't finished with them. As they turned to leave he quipped with disgust, "Taking orders from a mudblood. Pathetic."
And that did it. At those words, any inhibitions Hermione had been fighting with simply vanished. She stopped and closed her eyes. Her friends watched worriedly as she started to look like she would tear the head off a Hippogriff at any second. Her heart pounded in her ears and she felt the blood rush to her anger-filled head. Without warning she whipped around to face Malfoy, causing him to blink in shock. She stared straight into his eyes as she began to rip into him.
"You honestly believe that you know everything, don't you Malfoy?" She hissed.
He moved back as she advanced, not liking where this was going.
"I mean you think you've got it all figured out, that you know where everything stands? Well guess what?"
She moved in closer, glaring, not wanting to give him a chance to speak.
"You're a bloody foolish prat to believe that, even for a second. Because reality is, you know dick-all. About anything. You barely even know where you yourself stand without your parents telling you."
The entire hall began to quiet then, as her voice rose above everything. Hermione forged ahead.
"And I pity you, I do, because you are going to have an awfully rude awakening when you have to face the real world without the protection of your 'dear daddy'. And I also pity you for that day when you realize that you and your precious family have wasted their lives, devoting them to the cause of a warped, twisted, malicious, treacherous, deceitful snake named Voldemort-" Everyone cringed at his name "-who cares for nothing but himself and his own convoluted idea that purebloods are far better than muggle borns."
Taking a steadying breath, she spoke more quietly. "But I especially pity you Malfoy, because you've grown up under the impression that showing any emotion and, heaven forbid, being kind to people makes you a weak person."
Her expression softened, almost looking as if she did pity him somewhat.
"That means that when it comes down to it, you will be too afraid to love anyone, and everyone will be too afraid to love you, leaving you all alone. And alone is a lonely way to live."
She let the words sink in a moment and backed off from her offensive stance. Then, speaking louder, she continued.
"So, I say good luck to you. And I mean it," she scoffed, "Because you're dreadfully going to need all the luck you can get when your world starts to fall apart, which it undoubtedly will. And you had just better start praying, Malfoy, that you'll be able to survive it."
She finally tore her angry gaze from his face, which now resembled a fish with his eyes and mouth open wide.
Hermione gave a small, tired laugh. "But why am I telling you this? I mean it doesn't matter. Because you're rich. Right?" She asked him.
He simply stood there, not knowing how to respond to her outburst, but visibly fuming.
Finally satisfied, Hermione nodded a "Good day" as she turned and left with her friends who slowly followed, just as astonished as anyone. She smiled slightly to herself as she opened the doors, and the crowd of on-lookers burst into applause.