Lonely Hours
The highest powers
In lonely hours
The tears devour you
Hermione boarded the train, apprehensive about going to France now without the support of her friends. Hermione found herself a carriage, intent on being alone to ponder what had happened. However, Malfoy seemed to have other ideas. She knew he wanted to know why she'd come down to the common room this morning sporting a purple eye, however Hermione had brushed him off and continued to angrily throw books into her trunk. His suspicion has been further aroused when Ginny had come by and had a go at Hermione. Ginny had shown no sympathy for the black eye, or how unreasonable Harry and Ron had been. However, once again Hermione had brushed him off. She knew it was unfair, considering that he'd let her help him when his mother had died, but…………………………
Hermione brushed the thoughts aside, trying to concentrate on the Dark Arts book written in French. Hermione was struggling slightly but brushed it off, not concerned about her knowledge of the French language. Hermione flicked through the book, bored with the knowledge it had to offer her. Hermione lost her train of thought as Malfoy's voice cause her attention.
"So, how'd you get that black eye Granger? Run into a door?" His silver eyes roved over her face, looking, no searching for answers. Malfoy had heard his mother use the same excuse for years after an argument with Lucius.
"Yes, as a matter of fact I did! What's it to you anyway?" Hermione's face had reddened, but Malfoy suspected that it was because she'd been cheated out of her only albeit rather than embarrassment.
"You know Granger, my mother used that excuse for year, every time after her and my father had had an argument." Draco paused, letting her absorb the information. "So, you see the thing is that I don't believe you. You see what I really think happened is, also judging from the Weasley girls' outburst this morning, that Potter hit you, after an argument over, I am presuming, your attendance to this course in France."
Hermione fought desperately for control, but the tears still seeped out of the corners of her eyes. "We did have a fight about me coming to France, and Harry did hit me, but Ginny was sort of right. I shouldn't have said some of the things I did. But I just got so angry after Harry called me a Mudblood not worthy of his and Ron's friendship. I got so angry that I said he should trust me and if he knew me better and hadn't shut me out after Sirius died….." Hermione trailed off, realizing what she'd let slip.
"My father is a top Death Eater, and my mother was a Black before she was married to my father. Did you honestly think that I wasn't aware of his whereabouts and his death? And not to mention his contact with Potter?" Draco raised an eyebrow, a sly grin breaking into his features. "Sometimes, Granger, you really are quite stupid for the top student."
"I suppose, Harry always suspected that your father knew, and so you knew. He was especially sure after the day in fifth year when Sirius came to the train station, as a dog, to see Harry off…………." Hermione trailed off once again. Why was she telling Draco all this? He didn't care, he was the enemy. What did it matter to him whether or not she had a black eye?
"Do continue Granger, what did you end up saying to Potter?" Draco's lazy drawl seemed to have vanished, replaced with a more mature, deeper voice. Hermione strongly suspected that he only used the drawl to annoy people, hence that was why he always used it when he was speaking to Pansy, the Gryffindors, Hagrid, McGonagall. Suddenly a thought struck Hermione, he had spoken to his father like that at the Quidditch in fourth year, another coincidence, he hadn't used the drawl with his mother or Snape.
"Granger you were saying." Draco's voice once again broke her thoughts.
"I told Harry that if he hadn't stopped cutting people out of his life since Sirius' death, then he would know that I'm trust worthy, and then I said that he was jealous cause he couldn't go….and then he said that the course was probably just to try and lure the Light side to the Dark Side. And I got so angry……… and said that maybe he wasn't as dedicated to the Light side as he said he was….." Hermione trailed off, feeing stupid. She looked up at Draco, unsure of his reaction.
"I'm sure that Potter would have been thrilled to hear his best friend saying that……..and to call you a Mudblood!! I'm really quite annoyed that I wasn't there to witness it……" Draco trailed off as he saw Hermione's tear stained face "Look, I wasn't calling you one; Just stating a fact." He said covering up his mistake with expert skill. Hermione guessed this came from years of living with a violent and short tempered Lucius Malfoy. However, Draco's words of cover up were wasted when he saw that Hermione was laughing quietly.
"You really don't get it do you Malfoy? You think it's the insult that hurts me. It's not, it's hearing it from your best friend, best friends are supposed to be supportive of their friends. They're not supposed to de-grade them." Hermione spat. "I stopped taking notice of you calling me a Mudblood back in fifth year."
Quite suddenly Draco began talking again. "You know Granger, maybe we shouldn't be as hostile to each other in France. As we are representing Hogwarts." Draco raised an eyebrow, looking somewhat uncertain, but doing a pretty good job of masking it.
"Well okay, but does that mean a first name basis?" Hermione was slightly unsure about this proposal. Feeling as though there was something underneath the surface that Draco wanted
"Well I don't know Granger, I suppose."
"Well, okay then, it's a deal." Hermione held out her hand and Draco took it cautiously. However none the less, he had taken her hand. This is where the start of something began.
A/N: I could end it here, but that would be cruel! Would it not?
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Hermione surveyed the room, where she and Draco would be staying. Hermione looked around the room, it was gorgeous. The carpet was plush and a deep blue color. The couches were black in color and all sat around the large coffee table, on the wall in front of the couches, sat a large fire place. On opposite sides of the rooms, stood two large desks, equipped with stationery. The wall where th desks stood, each had a window, one window overlooking the beach, the other the castle grounds. The drapes were a silver color, and were well suited the black and blue décor. A large book shelf stood against one wall, and contained many books, mainly of the Dark Arts. Hermione, satisfied with the room make her way up the stairs to her own room.
Hermione's room had a large king-sized bed with a small closet and a door leading off to the side. There was a fire place on the wall opposite Hermione's bed. The room was smaller than the one back at Hogwarts. The windows, were large and looked out over the beach. The curtains were simple silver drapes and suited the room well. There were couches placed strategically around her room all of them black. There was a small wooden coffee table and a book shelf standing against one wall, with a smaller collection of books, to that of the collection in the common room. There was also a large desk, sitting under the window, one the same wall as the bookshelf. A small lamp, parchment, quills and many other thing articles of stationary were already supplied.
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Hermione arrived down at the hall where the Feast was being held just in time. As she entered, a small women, who reminded Hermione strongly of Umbridge, stood up and asked the students to sit at their designated spots. Hermione sat down, with Draco on her right, and a girl about the same age as Hermione on her left. Hermione settled in, waiting for the women's speech to start. She was somewhat apprehensive about her ability to understand the language, as she had stopped living in France when she was eight and had only had practice up until now when she went home for the summers, and spoke to her parents. Though English on both sides Hermione's dad had taken a job as a surgeon for a short time in France, and so until the age of eight Hermione had been schooled in France, hence growing up with the language.
"Good evening students, my name is Professor Allen, unfortunately I am not taking the Dark Arts course, but the women who will be has been held up with business in London. She does apologize for her lateness, but she will be here tomorrow for your first day. Also, for the duration of you stay here, you will eat meals down in this hall, breakfast will be served at five am, lunch will be served at twelve, and dinner will be served at seven thirty. You classes will be held in the West Wing of the castle. The library is also in the West Wing. The kitchens are below the hall, which is situated in the East wing. The common rooms and the drawing rooms, where can all collaborate, are situated in the South wing of the castle, while the North wing is strictly off limits to everyone. The Astronomy Tower is also situated in the West Wing. Also, the forest is off limits, unless being used for educational purposes. The Quidditch pitch is open to all. I advise against swimming and ice skating on the lake, as some nasty creatures live down there. Also your rooms will be cleaned daily by the house elves, but please don't leave clothes lying around. That is all for now." With that she clapped her small hands and food filled plates, platters and bowls, with all kinds of the unique food that France was famous for.
Several hours later an exhausted Hermione entered the common room, an equally tired, though more graceful Draco in her wake. Bidding Draco goodnight, Hermione headed upstairs for a good night's sleep.
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Hermione woke up to a grumpy alarm clock yelling in her ear to get up. Refreshed, and excited about her first full day in France Hermione. Getting out of bed, Hermione made her way to the bathroom, taking care to knock, aware that she was sharing the bathroom with Draco. Upon, not hearing any noise from the bathroom, Hermione entered. Stripping down, (No dirty thoughts here people! I hate it where people have it so that Hermione and Draco see each other in the bathroom! No offence of anything!) Hermione stepped into the hot water, relief washing through her bones, as all her worries, of her first day in France washed away.
Several minutes later Hermione stepped out, pulling on a skirt, and a white blouse. Although no specific uniform was given, girls were required to wear skirts with a blouse, and black robes. The boys were required the wear pant, shirts, and also black robes. There were no specific colors given, apart from the black robes. Pulling on some black shoes and clipping her hair back, Hermione grabbed her bag and made her way down to the hall to get breakfast.
Hermione ate her breakfast slowly, hoping to get to talk to Draco before she made her way to class. However, with ten minutes to spare to get to class Hermione gave up, supposing that she could talk to him tonight.
Hermione made her way to class without trouble, and made it just as the teacher came in. Taking up a seat next to a girl Hermione recognized from the feast from the night before, who had introduced herself as Claudia. Hermione took out her quill, and glanced up at Draco who was staring at the teacher, as though trying to figure out a particularly hard problem.
Draco, blinked once, twice, trying to clear his vision, where had he seen the teacher before, she looked so familiar. However, he dismissed it, as a mere acquaintance that he had met at one of his mother's numerous dinner parties
"Hello! I will be your teacher for the duration of this course." The teacher glanced around the room, her gaze settling on Draco. "Why Mister Malfoy, we meet again……………….." TBC…………………….
Hi people aren't I cruel?? Well, if you want to find out who this mysterious teacher is who seems to know Draco!?!?! Anyway, the quicker you review the quicker I'll update! You know the routine. Anyway hopefully I will be back with another chapter so time soon provided that you people review.
Sly-Gurl