Disposable Heroes

By: ann no aku

General Disclaimer:  Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling.  The quote belongs to JMS.  The title belongs to Metallica from their Master of Puppets album.

Summary:  It is Hermione's seventh year at Hogwarts, and she is not the Head Girl.  As a matter of fact, she is not even at Hogwarts!  Instead, Hermione Granger is spending two months abroad studying Muggles in America with her all time enemy Draco Malfoy.  How will the two of them survive without any connection to their rightful world besides each other?

Rating:  PG-13

Author's Notes:  I tried to portray the characters as well as I can without them appearing OOC.  Any questions, e-mail me at ann_no_aku@yahoo.com

Chapter:  Two

Chapter Title:  The Quiet Ones

Opening quote:  "The quiet ones are the ones that change the universe (. . .) the loud ones only take the credit." JMS

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            School.  The most hated six-letter word by anyone ranging in the ages from five to eighteen.  Everyone except one.  One girl.  To her, there was nothing more exciting than allowing herself to be absorbed by each word in a textbook.  She loved the way the plump, juicy sentences sounded in her busy head.  Each word would taste sweet as she would read each one out loud.  Excitedly, Hermione Granger crawled out of her luxurious bed and gathered up her robe as she headed for the bathroom.

            She sunk deeply into the warm water and nearly leaped out of her skin when a knock sounded at the door.

            "Going to be in there all morning, are you?  Some of us need to use the lavatory, too, Granger."  He gripped his hair gel bottle tightly, careful not to get some on his black sweater.

            "I am almost done!" she yelled back, forcing her wet body from the tub.  Hermione dried off and pulled on her bathrobe before unlocking the door.  She opened it slowly, embarrassed that Draco was going to see her dressed so.

            "Hurry up, Mudblood."  He pushed past her and tried to burn the image of Hermione half clothed from his mind.

            "I don't see why you couldn't have just used the other half of the bathroom."

            "Someone was using it.  Besides, I didn't think you'd mind," he smirked.  Draco squeezed the sticky substance onto his hands and began his daily ritual of slicking back his platinum blonde hair.

            "That damages your hair, you know."

            "Really?  Looks like you could use some."

            Annoyed, she stormed off to her bedroom and shifted through her clothes for something to wear.  She had just about managed to tug out a pair of blue jeans from her dresser when Mrs. Roberts tapped lightly on her door.  "Come in!"  Hermione called, throwing the pants on her bed.

            "Good morning!"

            "'Morning."

            "I found this and thought it may be of some use to you," Mrs. Roberts said, handing the girl a large metal object with a long cord.

            "Wh-What is it?"

            "A flat iron.  You use it to straighten hair and sometimes make it a little flat."  She smiled at her.

            "Flat iron?"  She studied it skeptically.

            "Just plug it into the wall and turn it on.  You have to wait a while for it to heat-up, of course.  Do you know how to use it?"

            "I think so.  Thank you!"  Hermione immediately plugged it in and set it on a small glass table top.

            "You're welcome, dear.  You can keep it, too, if you like."

            "I'd love to, but these sorts of things are not allowed at school.  I'd have to mail it home first."

            "Hm.  They'd probably think of it as a hot plate or an open coil or something," Mrs. Roberts agreed.  "Just use it as long as you'd like and mail it home."  She shut the door behind her and walked down the stairs to the kitchen.

            The sweet smell of breakfast wafted upstairs luring the three students down to the breakfast table which was littered with platters of bacon, eggs, hot cakes, orange juice, milk, and even breakfast sausage.  It was almost like the feasts at Hogwarts!  "Oh, good morning, Draco!"  Mrs. Roberts pulled him into her arms.  "You look handsome today, dear."

            Still not used to all the physical attention, he just sat down at the table between Hermione and Eric.  "Did you cook all this yourself?"

            "Yes," she shoved Draco a plate full of a little bit of everything.  "Eat up, now.  You have a full day ahead of you."

            "Mom always gets excited when people stay over.  She keeps telling me that she should have had another kid."

            "Wonderful hot cakes, Mrs. Roberts." Hermione complimented, thoroughly enjoying all the home cooked food.  Not even the house elves can cook this well.

            "So, Draco," Mrs. Roberts began, sitting down at the head of the table, "What do your parents do for a living?"

            "My mother doesn't work, but my father works-" he paused to recall the lie the professor had told him to use, "He works for the government."

            "Hermione?"

            "Both my parents are dentists," she took a large gulp of her milk.

            "That explains your perfect teeth," Eric said, causing her to blush.

            The flirting between Hermione and the Muggle Eric angered Draco.  It was bad enough that Ms. Granger was a Mudblood, but to want to contaminate her blood even more was ridiculous!  Soon she'd spawn off little brats that would barely have even a drop of wizarding blood in them!  Hermione would disgrace the name of wizardry even more than she had done already by being born.  Wizards are a breed of a better race, not a matter to take lightly, he thought.

            "-I was thinking of working for the government, particularly in the justice department." Hermione said, shaking Draco from his ownS thoughts.

            "That's wonderful!  You, Draco?  What do you want to do with your life?"

            "I want to follow in my father's footsteps.  I want to complete everything he leaves behind after his time."  He loved the look of pure shock that had taken over Hermione's face.  Her normal dull brown eyes were full of anger.  He could almost feel heat emanating from her.  Draco smiled, feeling the best he had during his entire trip so far.

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            "So you're going to be a Death Eater?"  Hermione hissed while brushing her teeth.  "Just like your father?"

            "What's it to you?"

            "Nothing," she lied.  Foam dribbled down her chin and into the sink.

            "Heh.  You're not scared, are you?"  He glared down at her before leaving to gathering his school bag.

            Argh!  How could he say such a thing?!  She was so mad that she didn't hear Eric telling her to hurry up or they'd be late.  "Coming!"  Hermione grabbed her bag and made a mad dash for the door.  "Sorry."

            "No problem."  He unlocked his car and everyone piled inside.  Hermione sat up front.

            "Well, Granger, from the looks of it, I can see that you obviously didn't make Head Girl."

            "And I see that you didn't get Head Boy, either," she sneered.

            "I have my reasons.  What's your excuse, Granger?"

            She ignored him, hurt by his words.

            "I take it that you two aren't exactly the best of friends." Eric stated, breaking the ice.  He stared sympathetically at Hermione.

            "It's not that," Hermione lied not wanting to have him feel uncomfortable.  Draco was somewhat surprised by her lying.

            "Are you two exes?"

            "As if!" She shouted hotly.  "We just . . . we're just competing for be best grades at school.  The Churchill Academy of London is known for being very competitive and for being the home of the brightest people all over the United Kingdom."

            "That's right, Granger.  You keep telling yourself that we're only competing.  I would hardly call it a competition when one of us is only partially in the game." Draco insulted, making reference to her being Muggle born.

            She suddenly found herself missing the gothic architecture of Hogwarts.  There'd be ghosts whom would annoy her, no moving pictures, no passwords to remember, no robes, and worst of all no magic.  Her heart sank deeply into her stomach.

            "Think of this as a vacation, Granger, since all of your summers are spent in such mundane places as this."

            She didn't reply.  Instead she listened closely as Eric showed them how to get to the office of the school.  "We need to get your schedules," he informed.  He came back out seconds later with their schedules and two sets of text books.  Eric explained how the schedules were set up.  "Just, uh, meet me out where I had parked the car when school is over, okay?"  The bell rang, and Eric ran off to his first class after assuring them Ms. Conner would meet up with them.  "Stay here!"

            "Okay."  Hermione studied her schedule and stole a peek of Draco's.  "We have the same first class and lunch."

            "If you thing that I'd be sitting next to you, you're wrong."  Draco stuffed his slip of paper into his pocket.

            "You don't know anyone else," she reminded.

            "I wouldn't dream of interrupting your precious little time with your Muggle boyfriend.  I s'pose you want to contaminate our blood even more."

            If Ms. Connor had not shown up at that moment, Hermione would have told him off.  But she was relieved all the same because her insults never seemed to faze him the way his bothered her.  "Good morning," she greeted, her beady hazel eyes twinkled.  "Welcome to Fairfax High School."

            "'Morning," Hermione replied.

            "Here's a map of the school.  If either of you get lost, just ask a fellow classmate or a teacher.  Any questions? Good!  I'll show you to your first class."  Ms. Conner spoke rapidly as though she was trying to get them out of her hair.  "The principal had thought it best if you two had the same first class.  Don't ask me why.  Mr. Fletcher likes to do things his way."  The slim woman led them down crowded hallways packed with tardy students.  "Tsk, students should be in their first class now."

            The small group stopped in front of a large, brightly lit classroom full of students.  Most were seated in their appropriate desks.  "This is American History.  Oh, almost forgot!  Your locker numbers and combinations are on your schedule.  Good luck."  Ms. Conner vanished after introducing them to Mr. Barry.

            "Locker?"  Hermione looked blankly at her schedule.

            "Coming from a Muggle family, Granger, you should know what it is already.  Or did you not read your Muggle Studies book closely enough?"

            "Piss off."

            "Ahem, class," Mr. Barry started, practically slamming the door behind his new students.  "For the next two months, these two, uh, transfer students Draco Malfoy and Ms. Hermione Granger" (he read their names from a piece of paper), "Will be studying with us.  They are from the Churchill Academy of London, England.  So please show them some respect and behave."  He directed them to their seats, having Hermione sitting diagonal and to the left of Draco.  Then he immediately proceeded with his lecture about the War of 1812.

            "Take notes," Hermione hissed at him, scribbling furiously with her pencil on her white notebook paper.

            "With what?"

            "Pencil and paper!"

            "I am not like you, Granger, all of this rubbish is unfamiliar to me."  He pulled out a pencil (wondering how to make it write) and a piece of paper.  After little difficulty, he started writing in his usual fancy script.  It looked different when not written with such fine ink on the greatest quality parchment.

            "Questions, class?" The teacher inquired after talking for about three-quarters of the class.  "No?  Then you may talk quietly amongst yourselves."  He retreated to his large desk and did some paper work.

            Almost the entire class flocked over to the new students, talking excitedly and asking them all sorts of questions.  One girl was holding a book called Wicca: The Teenage Witch's Guide to Wicca and Wiccan Magic by Silver Ravenwolf.  Hermione couldn't take her eyes from the book.  It was a Muggle book on magic!  The girl saw her staring at the book and let her look through it.

            "Are you Wiccan?" Rebecca asked her.  Her raven black hair hung loosely atop her shoulders.  The girl had chalk white skin as well as several piercings.

            "No.  What is Wicca?"

            "Is that a book on magic?"  Draco snatched the book from her grasp.  "Tsk, Granger, you never know when to give up, do you?"  He flipped through the pages.  "Candles?  Phases of the moon?  What is this?"

            "It's Rebecca's book, Malfoy."  Hermione handed it back to her.

            "Do you do magic, Draco?"  Rebecca's emerald eyes glued themselves to him.  They reminded him all too much of Harry's eyes.

            "Nothing you'd know," he stuffed his hands in his coat pockets, forgetting that his wand was there.  A smirk crept across his face.  "Maybe I can show you."  He winked at Hermione in response to her look of disgust.

            "Really?"  Rebecca's face lit up.

            "Sure.  Why not?"

            "There's no such thing as magic," Hermione interrupted, feeling her cheeks burn.

            "You're just jealous, Granger, that you cannot do it."

            "Malfoy-!"  Just as she was ready to threaten him, the bell rang signifying the end of class.  "I don't want to get in trouble because of you," she spat.

            "Don't get your knickers in a knot.  I was only joking."  His silver eyes darted across his schedule as he read it to himself.

            "What class do you have?"

            "What's it to you, Mudblood?"  He gathered up his belongings and fled the classroom.  His black trench coat floated behind him, looking very much like a robe.

            "This is going to be the longest two months of my entire life!" she groaned and stuffed her things into her bag.  "Now how do I get to room 119?"  Hermione wished then that she had more time to prepare for this schooling so she wouldn't look quite so out of place in Muggle America.

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            Lunchtime came too slowly.  She was not used to 'block scheduling' where there'd be four classes at ninety minutes in length each.  So far she had endured American History and Pre-Calculus.  Hermione trudged tiredly through the crowded corridors dragging her heavy school sack.

            "You look exhausted," Eric greeted and offered to take her bag.

            "I am," she answered.  "Where's Draco?"

            "I haven't seen him, but I'm sure he'll find us."  He led her to a picnic table outside where they'd be eating their lunch Mrs. Roberts had packed for them earlier that morning.

            "There you are Granger!"

            "Speak of the Devil," Eric murmured so only Hermione could hear him.

            "I thought you didn't want to sit with me," she opened her water bottle.

            "I'd rather sit with you than these," he paused, "Mundanes," he finished.

            "Mundanes?" Eric repeated.  He glared at the blond haired boy.  "What do you mean by that?"

            Draco ignored his question and sneered at him in disgust.  He plopped down on the bench across from his schoolmate and opened up his satchel searching for his lunch.  He found it a little too warm to be wearing his trench coat outside and removed it revealing a muscular build trapped beneath a black sweater.  The food Mrs. Roberts had prepared for him was not bad, but it was not what he was used to either.  He had a ham and butter sandwich on white bread with the crust cut off (the way he preferred) and a small box of finger sandwiches with cucumbers on them.  Granted the vegetables tasted fresher, the food itself had more grease and fat than he normally ate.  Yes, he was used to receiving an infinite amount of packages from his mother containing nothing but sweets, but he didn't fancy them as much anymore.  He hated the fact that his mother treated him like a baby, and that his father treated him like an adult and not his own son.

            "What is a 'Mundane'?  I know mundane means normal, but to use an adjective as a noun like that," Eric paused, "What is he talking about, Hermione?"

            "Our school, Eric, is designed to have people of noble blood there only—like Sirs, Ladies, and etcetera.  Draco comes from a long line of noble blood and is not used to us 'commoners'," Hermione explained, secretly telling some truth in her lie.  "Others are not permitted, even though the number of pure nobles is rapidly declining as there are intermarriages."

            "But you go there too," he reminded realizing what Draco's attitude problem was all about.  Eric suddenly recalled Hermione telling him earlier that her school was also a boarding school out in the middle of nowhere.

            "I am of noble blood by different means than Draco.  My parents are not nobles, but others in their family are.  So I am not directly of noble blood, but one through marriage.  Since I am the only child, I was declared as being the only noble Granger and allowed admittance into the Churchill Academy of London."

            "I wasn't aware that England was still a social based society."

            "We don't openly admit it."  With that, the conversation was over and she was allowed to continue eating her wonderful lunch of finger sandwiches, fresh fruits and vegetables, and water.  Her parents' rules about limited sweets had turned into a slight favor for her as she began to lose her taste for them over the years.  She bit hungrily into her turkey sandwich with lettuce and began thinking about how much she missed the very alien world that was home.  Even though humans and witches were not that much different in appearance, their worlds were completely opposite from each other.  The Muggle world had more opportunities for a higher level of education and self evolution, but the wizarding world had more fascinating jobs and things to learn.  She knew she'd be bored living her life as a Muggle instead of a witch.

            The end of the day came quickly for her and the weekend greeted her with open arms.  She regretted not being at Hogwarts where she could be spending all Saturday at Hogsmeade with Harry and Ron.  Hermione thought about writing them, but then wondered how she would be able to get into touch with them.  She could not owl the letter; that would look strange to Muggles!  As she mulled over the subject while eating, she recalled what Dumbledore had told her about keeping in contact.  She was permitted to use the regular post and then that would be owled to Hogwarts.  A member of the Ministry of Magic would come once a week to the address and pick it up to owl it off to school.  But where did she put that address?

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That is the end of Chapter Two.  Sorry that it had taken me so long to update it, but I had to get ready for college.  I had finally transferred to my four year school!  I will hopefully have Chapter Three up soon, and I guarantee some interesting twists.  Please review!

~ann no aku