[Being Mrs Malfoy]
~*fanfiction by Sila-chan.*~
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Dear Diary,
Today's my wedding day. I sit in front of my Louis VII desk, facing the mirror. With every upward glance I see myself, dressed in this gorgeous white gown. I'm as perfect as I can be. But there's one question fluttering around in my mind, it's more distracting than the butterflies in my stomach.
Why did Draco pick me?
__________________________________________________________________________
CHAPTER 1: Mr Jinx
**scene flies back to middle seventh year. Hermione is in the library. An owl flutters in.**
Hermione cocked her head as the owl landed in front of her. It hooted politely, bobbing it's head before flying off, leaving a slightly dented envelope before her. She watched it fly into the distant sky, before shaking her head and glancing at it. Sighing, she grabbed the envelope off the table. It wasn't like she could concentrate on the book anyway.
Madam Pince watched curiously as the girl turned white, kicking back her chair as she stood. She crept forward, grabbed her bag as she glanced at the letter in horror, and turned, running out of the library. Her head was bowed, hair covering her face as the heavy library doors slammed open, swinging shut behind her. Tutting, Madam Pince almost stepped foward to clean up, but paused mid-stride as another unexpected student walked out from in between the shelves. Glancing disinterestedly at the mess, Draco Malfoy saw something that caught his eye. Narrowing his eyes, he crossed the space quickly, snatching the letter up. He scanned it, and his eyes widened. With a scowl like a storm of black clouds, he scrunched the letter up and tossed it in the wastepaper basket on his way out. Madam Pince winced as the doors slammed shut for the second time in ten minutes. Curiousity nagged at her, eating her raw but she ignored it, stepping forward and quickly sweeping up the books, bustling around the library. Withing minutes, it was as if the abnormality never occured.
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"Mudblood!" footsteps. Hermione quickened her pace. There was only one jerk who would call her that and that was the jerk she really did not want to see right now.
"Mudblood!" He sounded annoyed now. Their footsteps were a rhythymic pattern, alternating clumsily.
"Go Away."
"Mudblood." He hissed, and she felt a breeze as an arm reached out and yanked at her robes. She let out a squeak as she was dragged backwards and roughly turned to face a very pissed Malfoy.
"Who sent you that letter?" She could feel his fingers digging into her upper arm, bruising the soft flesh.
"Dumbledore." She turned her face, not looking at him.
"Look at me." He growled. Something compelled her to do as he said. His normally ice-blue eyes were a stormy grey.
"Call a meeting. All the seventh-years. In the Boardroom. Right now."
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Right. Most unlikely pair. It was like Minerva and Albus had just told the Sorting Hat to pick out the two students most likely to kill each other or have babies. It was such a fine line between hate and sexual attraction.
Snape pondered as he drifted around his private garden. It wasn't so much of a garden as a laboratory slash garden come greenhouse.
He absently touched a plant, brushing his fingers over the fine hairs before yanking his hand away as a drop of acid slime dropped and hissed on the floor.
Why on earth would they pick Draco and Hermione as Head Boy and Girl? Even he wasn't that mentally dysfunctional. Must be a Gryffindor thing. He allowed himself a rare smile and continued pacing.
It hadn't been too bad so far. The school was big enough they didn't see each other often. Hardly ever, in fact.
But this new plan was too much. He knew it was inevitable. The Gryffindor-Slytherin Saga was drawing to a close. It had to. There were too many inter-house fights recently. Students were beginning to get hurt.
It was evident that neither houses (although being the strongest in individual ways) was going to win the House Cup. Gryffindor was down to five points and Slytherin had minus two. But combining the two towers? Snape didn't think that was such a good idea.
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Hermione ran towards the Gryffindor gate-portrait. She started cursing as she neared it, pushing through the crowd of seventh-years, ignoring what they were saying, ignoring what they were asking her. Tears began to course down her face as she saw the yellow banner-tape wrapped around it, stating 'Under Construction'. It was true. She had to spend the rest of her final year at Hogwarts living with the Slytherins.
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AUTHOR'S notes:
I know it doesn't seem like something to cry about, but from Hermione's perspective, it is her last year at Hogwarts, her last year of school ever, and she has to spend it with the people she hates. Also, from a seventh-year perspective (what's that, sixteen? fifteen?) it does seem like something pretty bad. More drama in next chapter... Hermione's got a problem!
~*fanfiction by Sila-chan.*~
__________________________________________________________________________
Dear Diary,
Today's my wedding day. I sit in front of my Louis VII desk, facing the mirror. With every upward glance I see myself, dressed in this gorgeous white gown. I'm as perfect as I can be. But there's one question fluttering around in my mind, it's more distracting than the butterflies in my stomach.
Why did Draco pick me?
__________________________________________________________________________
CHAPTER 1: Mr Jinx
**scene flies back to middle seventh year. Hermione is in the library. An owl flutters in.**
Hermione cocked her head as the owl landed in front of her. It hooted politely, bobbing it's head before flying off, leaving a slightly dented envelope before her. She watched it fly into the distant sky, before shaking her head and glancing at it. Sighing, she grabbed the envelope off the table. It wasn't like she could concentrate on the book anyway.
Madam Pince watched curiously as the girl turned white, kicking back her chair as she stood. She crept forward, grabbed her bag as she glanced at the letter in horror, and turned, running out of the library. Her head was bowed, hair covering her face as the heavy library doors slammed open, swinging shut behind her. Tutting, Madam Pince almost stepped foward to clean up, but paused mid-stride as another unexpected student walked out from in between the shelves. Glancing disinterestedly at the mess, Draco Malfoy saw something that caught his eye. Narrowing his eyes, he crossed the space quickly, snatching the letter up. He scanned it, and his eyes widened. With a scowl like a storm of black clouds, he scrunched the letter up and tossed it in the wastepaper basket on his way out. Madam Pince winced as the doors slammed shut for the second time in ten minutes. Curiousity nagged at her, eating her raw but she ignored it, stepping forward and quickly sweeping up the books, bustling around the library. Withing minutes, it was as if the abnormality never occured.
-----------------------------------------------
"Mudblood!" footsteps. Hermione quickened her pace. There was only one jerk who would call her that and that was the jerk she really did not want to see right now.
"Mudblood!" He sounded annoyed now. Their footsteps were a rhythymic pattern, alternating clumsily.
"Go Away."
"Mudblood." He hissed, and she felt a breeze as an arm reached out and yanked at her robes. She let out a squeak as she was dragged backwards and roughly turned to face a very pissed Malfoy.
"Who sent you that letter?" She could feel his fingers digging into her upper arm, bruising the soft flesh.
"Dumbledore." She turned her face, not looking at him.
"Look at me." He growled. Something compelled her to do as he said. His normally ice-blue eyes were a stormy grey.
"Call a meeting. All the seventh-years. In the Boardroom. Right now."
------------------------------------------------
Right. Most unlikely pair. It was like Minerva and Albus had just told the Sorting Hat to pick out the two students most likely to kill each other or have babies. It was such a fine line between hate and sexual attraction.
Snape pondered as he drifted around his private garden. It wasn't so much of a garden as a laboratory slash garden come greenhouse.
He absently touched a plant, brushing his fingers over the fine hairs before yanking his hand away as a drop of acid slime dropped and hissed on the floor.
Why on earth would they pick Draco and Hermione as Head Boy and Girl? Even he wasn't that mentally dysfunctional. Must be a Gryffindor thing. He allowed himself a rare smile and continued pacing.
It hadn't been too bad so far. The school was big enough they didn't see each other often. Hardly ever, in fact.
But this new plan was too much. He knew it was inevitable. The Gryffindor-Slytherin Saga was drawing to a close. It had to. There were too many inter-house fights recently. Students were beginning to get hurt.
It was evident that neither houses (although being the strongest in individual ways) was going to win the House Cup. Gryffindor was down to five points and Slytherin had minus two. But combining the two towers? Snape didn't think that was such a good idea.
-------------------------------------------------
Hermione ran towards the Gryffindor gate-portrait. She started cursing as she neared it, pushing through the crowd of seventh-years, ignoring what they were saying, ignoring what they were asking her. Tears began to course down her face as she saw the yellow banner-tape wrapped around it, stating 'Under Construction'. It was true. She had to spend the rest of her final year at Hogwarts living with the Slytherins.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________
AUTHOR'S notes:
I know it doesn't seem like something to cry about, but from Hermione's perspective, it is her last year at Hogwarts, her last year of school ever, and she has to spend it with the people she hates. Also, from a seventh-year perspective (what's that, sixteen? fifteen?) it does seem like something pretty bad. More drama in next chapter... Hermione's got a problem!