Against All Odds

By: stefani teee a.k.a. Koneko ^Å^

© Tale Spinners Inc.

Email: mirroredsakura@yahoo.com

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Koneko-chan says!

Stefani: *shrugs* I fixed up the first chapter. 'Nuff said.

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The girl's large sloping brown eyes were weary as she closed one of the large, leather-bound volumes that rested around her room in piles, with a snap. She yawned loudly, stretching, and flopping backwards on the bed, smacking her head against another ancient tome resting on her pillow. She had been attempting to cram in some extra studying before school started up again… But there was no time for that. Today it had already been arranged that she was meeting Harry and Ron at Diagon Alley for school supplies. It had been a tradition for five years now, going on (she thought sadly) the last. It was their seventh year now, their last year at Hogwarts. Shoving the book off her lap with a groan she got off her bed, where she'd been sitting cross-legged reading and waited as feeling returned to her legs which had fallen asleep during her extended reading. Walking to her bathroom, she passed the mirror, merely glancing at it once, too used to it to notice the change that had been wrought over Hermione Granger over the summer holidays.

She had grown taller, being a late bloomer as it was and she had matured later than the rest but… she smiled as she finished her glance. Yes indeed, one might almost think it was worth the wait. But an entire summer seeing that was almost enough to make a girl forget that no one else from school had seen her since the end of last school term.

Well, she certainly would make an impression wouldn't she? She'd show them that she was indeed a girl (that old, particularly tactless comment from Ron still stung), which they hadn't seemed to notice for the last six years that they'd known her for. She refused to wear a cloak. She was Muggle. She would dress like one. That should catch more than just her friends' eyes, though she wished no romantic designs on either of them. But why not prove it to them that she could handle a year 'loosened up', as they'd told her to do? Well… as soon as she finished looking over her books.

"Baby? I thought you were meeting your friends down in London today?" called her mother from the bottom of the flight of stairs five minutes later. Hermione glanced at the clock once again and shrieked. "OH NO!" before she launched herself at her closet flinging clothes right and left trying to find something. She knew she should have been prepared for something like this? How could she not have been prepared? The name Hermione commanded her preparedness of anything from schoolwork (and recently) to clothes.

Her mother appeared in the doorway, peeking in, and found her daughter panicking wreck as she hit the closet like a tornado. "What's the big deal, honey? I thought you were just going to wear those Celtic robe things." She wrinkled her nose at the thought of those itchy cloaks that she'd worn one year to go with her daughter to buy supplies in order to 'blend in'.

"No I'm not! I'm going to find something that'll prove to them that yes I'm a bloody female and not just 'one of the gang'! I'll make them wait for all I care!" she yelled giving up as she eyed the havoc that had become her room and kicking her closet door. Her mother laughed, braving Hurricane Hermione and kneeling down quickly beside her seventeen-year-old daughter. "If you wanted help, you could have asked me in the first place… " she told her, pushing a side of her white lab coat she almost always wore, out of her way and began searching through the clothes. "My little girl's all grown up now isn't she…?" she sighed, "Show them you're a woman now hmm? Well… you could always try this… and oh, this will do, and this, of course that works well too…"

Hermione soon found herself donning a red midriff tank (with a white button-up sleeveless over it so her dad wouldn't go insane and give her the 'fatherly lecture') and short denim cutoff shorts. She looked at herself carefully in the mirror. "I like it Mum. You're a lifesaver."

"That's one thing you won't see every day… a dentist with good taste in clothes." She looked down at her lab coat and sighed. "I'll have to change too, won't I?"

"I think so… I don't think you'll meet any vampires in dire need of teeth surgery anytime today." Her mother laughed heading for her own room, "Well, hurry then, okay honey? I honestly don't want to think of that greasy pub we have to go through in order to get to that Alley." Hermione answered, "Now you're the one who's holding us up!"

"Don't blame me, honey! I'm not the one with the car keys!"

It was an hour's drive there in good traffic and thank goodness… it was good traffic. They drove up, and parked in front of the bookstore. Her mother looked nervously at the people who completely ignored the pub and continued to enter in a flowing stream of people into the bookstore, their having a sale of some sort, as she and her daughter walked in the door of the Leaky Cauldron. Answering the brief greeting the bartender gave them; they walked out the back, and after a hassle with the brick wall, walked out into Diagon Alley. Here, Hermione took charge and led the way, this time to Gringots, where she'd promised to meet them, right after she'd exchanged her money for wizarding coins. Just as soon as she took her place leaning against one of the white stone walls outside, a blur of red hair came past and screeched to a stop several feet in front of her. Tall, gangly, and yet well muscled, it was the youngest male Weasley, Ron.

And Ron it was for not noticing the obvious, for his eyes roved all around, his eyes catching sight of Hermione but only flashed past her as he called over at a fast approaching raven-haired teenager, gasping to keep up, telling him to hurry up.

"I don't think he recognizes you, dear…" voiced her mother's opinion in an amused tone.

"You and me both," muttered Hermione, glaring daggers at one of her best friends. Imagine, not being able to recognize the same girl who'd kept his damned arse out of trouble for over six years straight now! She made a "hmph" sound in her displeasure.

Her mother personally found her being slightly unfair. Hermione knew just how much she'd grown up during the summer holidays, and she certainly knew that neither of her friends had seen her yet. That thought brought her round to the fact that both her daughter's best friends were males. Oh dear… there will definitely be something happening at that school this year… She groaned, mentally. Oh the dating… Already she had seen enough of Hermione's potential 'mates' (as one extremely strange wolf-obsessed fellow was wont to tell her) over the course of the summer.

"Bloody hell… where is she?" he wondered aloud, as Harry caught up to him, clutching his knees as he fought to regain his breath. Harry was a strong guy, having lived with the Dursleys for so long, but he had not the endurance that Ron had built up working during the summer.

Harry finally looked up and round, and caught sight of her quite quickly, along with the small smirk on her face. He gawped at her for a second before shutting his mouth and then the laughter began. "You obviously didn't look too hard, did you? She is standing directly behind you."

And so she was with arms crossed and leaning against a Gringott's column.

This time it was Ron who turned round and gawped at her. There were only two people behind him after all… and that was Hermione, and her mother. It was easy to put two and two together from there.

"Hermione?" he finally asked when he had gained back his powers of speech, as he stared at her. Er… well, perhaps not her her, and more like just her chest her, but he had managed to look politely back at her face after the first shock. And so, she was keen to ignore it, knowing full well the shock she had caused. She had met Seamus Finnigan on the way to Gringott's after all.

"Already you don't remember me… Ron, I really do need to hit you upside the head one of these days."

"Would do him some good," Harry commented, the grin never leaving his face. "Hi, Mrs. Granger." He greeted Hermione's mum.

Hermione sighed… her mother had met him before… and she'd been charmed. "Oh he's such a nice boy… such a nice young man… are you planning to date him?" she had said the last time she had met Harry Potter. Of course, her mother had at least had the tact not to say this right in front of Harry himself. One reddened face staring back openmouthed back at her mother was enough.

"Hello Harry…"

Seeing this, Ron hastened to greet her as well, "How was your summer Mrs. Granger?"

"Anthony and I spent wonderful nights watching television while our daughter whiled her time away with the boys." She said this with a lightly teasing, lightly sarcastic manner. And even though Hermione had the grace to blush, the twin stares were rearranged on the boys' faces again, as if they honestly couldn't believe Hermione spending a summer without her nose in a book. Well, technically she had… she just kept it in a book while decked out in a bikini on the beach.

" So… where are we headed to first?" she asked quickly, attempting to change the subject, uttering the dreaded (to her) and magical (to them) words. "Didn't I see a new broom in the shop window?"

Both immediately pulled her into a discussion of the latest discussion of some new Cirrus model that had just been out. She groaned mentally, and tuned it all out while still managing that 'oh-so-interested' look, while catching her mother's eye. She quirked up an eyebrow, and gave her a look that said plainly, "You wanted to change the subject… live with it."

She returned that oh-so-subtle look with a pleading one of her own as the boys' conversation switched to broom-cleaning equipment. Her mother looked at her with a broad smile on her face for a moment before saying loudly, breaking into the conversation, "Dear, do you still need me now that your friends are here? I'd like to… to… see what the fuss is about in that bookstore we passed by."

Brilliance. Sheer brilliance. Hermione secretly applauded her mother as Harry stopped the conversation to bid her farewell, and Ron, not being outdone by his best friend even ran after her a few paces to shake her hand quite formally. She shrugged, Percy must be rubbing off on him.

"I'll come back out by myself to get you later!" she called back to her mother before walking in the opposite direction, so as not to allow the two boys to pick up their conversation where they'd left off. Quidditch and winning and brooms were all fine and dandy, but she had some shopping to do. She needed new robes. And of course there was always that smidgen of money that she could spend on a nice book for herself… Perhaps, Legolas Greenleaf: An Autobiography by the famed Elf himself. She smiled. There were plenty of witches who found him more attractive than Gilderoy Lockhart. She was quite inclined to agree.

"So where exactly are we headed to first?" asked Harry. Hermione stopped. "You have gone into Gringott's already haven't you?"

"Yeah… but then Ron caught sight of Quality Quidditch Supplies and then…"

"No. No more. Stop right there, I do not want to hear any more about that new whatchamacallit model that just came out. If you've got money, we're off to Madame Malkin's—oh hello Ginny."

For indeed, the red-haired pixie had appeared beside them, panting for breath and shooting her brother dirty looks. "Just wonderful to leave me there with Mum hanging onto my arm as if I would break if she let me alone. Oh! Hello Hermione… lovely outfit by the way, simply scrumptious."

"Sounds like you want to eat it," muttered Ron, making that all-too-well-known guy face that says all-too-clearly 'Women'. It is certainly amazing how much aggravation you can inject into one look. Ron pulled it off. Harry burst out laughing.

"Madame Malkin's it is… you're right, Hermione… mine are a little too short as they are."

"Oh… I was going to get a new wand… I actually need one this year…" she waved the one she had in her hand to prove her point and it let out a few indignant sparks. "It's becoming quite temperamental."

Fifteen minutes, and several dozens of wands later, they exited the store, Ginny clutching her new wand (oak and dragon's heartstring) in one hand, and the box it had come in, in the other, being too excited to wait till she got home to get used to it. Passing in and out of the shops, getting the necessary items, which (they being seventh/sixth-year wizards and witches) meant a lot of necessary items, too many to list completely.

Soon enough, they were loaded with books, cauldrons (in Hermione's case, Neville being her Potions partner meant that he had discreetly turned it into a melted lump of pewter), and other miscellanies. However, they had failed to enter Madam Malkin's, for, as Ginny and Hermione both commiserated on, they were shopping with two boys. Wizarding world though they may be in, and budding wizards they may be, they were still boys. And sadly, that usually meant an allergy to anything regarding clothes shopping. It was actually better among the wizarding families actually… husbands were not dragged to places known as 'malls', which overall carries a certain ominous dark cloud to those of the Y chromosome.

So, it was with a lot of arguing (especially on Ron's part), that they were made to enter the shop. Hermione, as well as Harry it turned out, needed new robes. While it seemed they were on the frayed side, Ron and Ginny just shuffled after them, looking a little embarrassed as they mumbled something along the lines of "the ones we have are just fine…" to the smiling witch at the door.

Harry went first, and so Hermione amused herself by conversing with Ginny about her expectations on who would be Head Boy and Head Girl. Ginny laughed, before the laugh turned into a frown. "You mean… you didn't get a letter from McGonagall, telling you that you were Head Girl?"

Hermione was suddenly chilled to the tips of her toes, despite the sun still shining brightly through the open window. "No… would that mean…?"

Ginny's eyebrows lifted, "Well there's got to be something, y'know." She remarked logically, "There might've been a mistake… but Percy graduated not to long ago, and he got his notice about his position with his letter. You're lots smarter than anyone other girl your class aren't you?"

"I… thought so…" But there were always people that weren't as well known as her, even if it was by association to Harry Potter. She did not enjoy riding Harry's coattails, and she did well to prove herself, and she had been quite proud of her accomplishments.

"Well, there's no use worrying about it now… maybe they changed it this year… we'll find out on September 1st anyway."

"You're up next dear, come along," Hermione got up from her seat, heading towards the witch with all the pins in her mouth (which made it amazing to believe that the witch had actually been able to talk without dropping several of them to the ground).

She faced the mirror as the kind little witch took her measurements with a measuring tape (that did its work on its own) as she gathered the black fabric and arranged them on the girl's slim frame. "You're Muggle-born, aren't you?" she asked kindly as she worked, (her mouth having been emptied of pins). "Yes… how did you know?"

Did they have some blood-testing Charm for purity of wizarding blood cast over the door? How could they know?

"It's not very difficult to know, considering what you are wearing is not… any form of robes we have ever made."

Oh.

It made sense.

Oops.

She repeated this last to the witch, and the other woman's eyes sparkled, as she patted Hermione's shoulder and waddled off to see to another customer at the front door, while the measuring tape did its work.

"Well, well… if it isn't the little Mudblood…" the words were soft enough so that only she could hear, and she very much recognized that slow, drawling voice, as well as the arrogance behind the words. She groaned, not even turning her head. "Oh no… not you Malfoy…" Honestly, she was sick and tired of these men who thought themselves "better than her". It had been enough when she'd had to handle Muggle boyfriends who were given no clue what her school was, or what she was planning to take in University… and so, decided that wasn't going to do anything with her life. She had had enough of all that overbearing, and she had reached her limit. No one was going to think himself or herself better than her this year. No one. Not even the skinny pale-faced rich brat.

She looked up at the mirror to see his reflection. Again, she was taken aback.

Oh.

She hadn't been the only one who'd filled out over the summer.

And he'd filled out into a sexy one indeed.

Bloody hell.

But before she could say anything, or even turn, the witch was back, "You're done dear." She pulled off the fabric and with a short snap of her wand, the thread and needle began running through the fabric by themselves as she gathered up her measuring tape, stuffing it into the front pocket of her robes, and Hermione stepped down. She looked up to see Malfoy's reflecting gaping at her. "What?" she asked, again forgetting the physical changes that had been wrought over her that summer. So, she assumed that outwardly flaunting the fact that she was a Muggle, even when she knew the Dark Lord had risen, had shocked him.

He regained his composure quickly, "Oh look, the little Muggle's all grown up." he drawled, and she never noticed the slight coloring of his cheeks.

"And oh look, the big, bad Pureblood's jealous." She drawled back in exactly the same tone as he, including the patented sarcasm. Very not true. He had nothing to be jealous of…

Bloody hell.

What other bad quality could she think up to insult him with? Well… there were plenty… but nothing that would injure his wonderfully thick sense of narcissism.

Bloody, bloody hell.

"Listen Granger—" He never finished his sentence, because at that point, she smiled at him, smiled her most incredibly wide, "Look-ma-no-cavities!", fake smile. "Sorry Malfoy, but I've got other things to do today… see you around."

For some strange, unknown reason, Draco Malfoy honestly wanted to childishly retort, "Not if I see you first." But he quelled it, and instead, watched her reflection as she walked over to the witch in the front, in order to pay for the making of the robes. He also noticed the bright fireballs of hair that signaled the Weasleys' appearance at the shop. But most of all, he noticed Hermione Granger. The girl had guts to be walking out when the rest of the wizarding world was so incredibly tense over the fact that the You-Know-Who had returned.

It was already quite late when the quartet finally finished walking the length of Diagon Alley (several times, owing to the fact that Ron could not handle long-term separation from the new Cirrus model sitting in the display window of Quidditch Quality Supplies and kept returning to it). Due to this very reason, Hermione had to bid them all a quick farewell. "See you all on the train, all right? Mum's waiting for me… and interested though she is in books, spending a day in a bookstore waiting for me is not something she would deem 'fun'." She left them all with a smile, but she was a tad frustrated. They hadn't, with the exception of Ginny, to have noticed anything different about her. Except for the fact that yes, she was a female, but she was still only 'one of the gang'. Not that she wanted to be a tease… she was not desperate to snog either Harry or Ron, but some indication that she could would be nice. It was a sore blow to a girl's ego not to have her male friends notice any new about her.

Bloody hell, even Malfoy had noticed, and he did not fall under her 'best male friends' category. She sighed… what was the use? They would always be ignorant, and she would always be the one to pull them out of whatever problem they were in. But she loved the two of them, and she knew very well they loved her… perhaps it was for the better. She cherished their friendship too much to want to tarnish it. She sighed again, and dragged her new things behind her, wincing at the state of the cauldron bottom, and the scraping it would have to deal with. Bebother these stupid rules about no magic outside Hogwarts! It would have been perfectly simple to use a levitation spell and float it all behind her. By the time she reached the brick wall that led to the Leaky Cauldron, she was gasping for air. Grumbling, she pulled out her wand and tapped the bricks (the instructions being posted on the inside wall, but not on the outside) and headed through.

The first thing she saw when she dragged the stuff in was Malfoy, drinking a glass of… something. Probably alcoholic. He looked up and eyed her in distaste, "Oh. It's you. Here to catch a few drinks before your friends find out?"

She made herself answer, even though she was tired enough as it was and her back ached from dragging that stupid cauldron full of books and other miscellaneous items. "Yes, it's me. But as I don't find you the best of company, Malfoy, I'll bypass the offer of an alcoholic beverage, and just continue on my way." She told him bluntly as she waved to the bartender and continued to drag the thing out the door.

Or tried to.

It wouldn't budge an inch.

"Bloody hell!" she muttered, "As if I haven't had enough of this already…" as she eyed the raised edge on the floor that no amount of pushing or pulling on her part could move. What a wonderful end to this wonderful day. Really.

"You know… it's much easier to pick it up." Hermione grit her teeth. He did not need to remind her.

"If I could, I would, Malfoy." She told him tugging fruitlessly at the brass ring on the cauldron. As that didn't work, she swore under her breath some more, and looked for anyone who could help her.

The place was empty except for the bartender busy trying to break up a small brawl between two drunkards.

Bartender. Two drunkards. Malfoy.

Bloody hell. What was with this day of hers?

"Here, let me help." He told her shortly as he bent down and picked the whole thing up.

Well now. This was something new.

She was treated to the sight of Draco Malfoy's arm muscles flexing as straightened, which left her, (to her shame) quite speechless. She then gawped at him for a second or two more before he finally said, impatiently, "I won't be holding it forever Granger, tell me where you want it or I'll drop it right here and now. And that would involve the whole bedamned thing landing on your feet."

"Uh, follow me then."

Uh? Oh god… she had lost her hold on vocabulary. Gah.

She led the way out of the Leaky Cauldron and out into the streets of London. People were already turning to stare, not at Hermione really, but at Draco's robes, although there were several of male population looking her way. But no, mainly Draco's clothes. And what he was carrying. Although those girls standing at the corner of the street were eyeing him and giggling with each other…

"Come on, quickly." More people had begun to stare, as she led the way to her mum's parked car, talking out her keys and popping open the boot.

Without another word, Draco carefully placed it in the rather large compartment. After doing so, and watching her smack the thing closed, he looked at the entire car rather curiously. Hermione was fidgeting beyond belief, nervously, and finally she managed a, "Well… thanks Malfoy."

He shrugged, "Nothing to me. I needed an excuse to sneak into Muggle London anyway."

Ah. She should have guessed.

He eyed the rest of London in all its glamour. People continued to stare at him.

One extremely brave boy (possibly knowing those aforementioned girls standing at the corner) with a death wish walked past him, calling out, in a voice pitched to carry, "What the bloody hell are you wearing?"

Draco looked ready to throw cautions to the winds (as well as a chance for expulsion) by reaching for his wand in his robes. Hermione spoke for him. She pouted prettily, "Aw… you don't like it? Bugger… now we'll have to tell the director that the public won't like his new costume ideas… Draco dear, we'll have to postpone the photo shoot…"

At this, the girls at the corner, as one, glared at the boy.

Draco looked affronted, "Certainly not." He replied curtly, "Miss a chance to catch me on film? The… director will skin you alive. And any of the public left after I'm done with them."

The boy took this as a cue to leave, as quickly as possible, but not before getting an eyeful of Hermione Granger.

Hermione laughed, turning back to Draco. "And that's how you handle the random prats you meet on the streets of London."

Draco hmphed, "I prefer death threats."

"Why are you still here anyway? I thought you were done with Diagon Alley?" She didn't notice how that had not sounded very polite. Would she have cared? No. Did Draco care? Nope.

"I am. But I've been ordered not to set foot outside of the Leaky Cauldron… and I've never been one to miss a chance of getting around a direct order…" his answers were well thought out and this familiar Malfoy drawl was back on his tongue.

Ah well… if it had lasted any longer, she might have suspected herself to be in the Twilight Zone.

"A word to the wise. You should change out of the robes, Malfoy."

"I don't need your advice, Granger." He told her, crossing his arms. Hermione stifled a laugh. He looked rather ridiculous standing in the street acting like a pompous, self-inflated egotist. Which he was.

"Still if you're desperate to poke around the Muggle world, you're not going to get far without being stopped by the police… you do stand out you know."

"And I am quite proud of that fact."

She shook her head. "I might help in the matter of getting you clothes."

"There is nothing wrong with my clothes."

Groaning, she turned away from him, "Fine. Go looking to them like an apparition from the circus. Don't mind me."

"Darling?" asked a voice behind them, and Hermione turned round to come face to face with her mother. "Mum… sorry I was late."

"Oh don't worry your pretty head over it… who is this?" she eyed Draco Malfoy speculatively, and she noticed the robes. "Oh dear… aren't those hot?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "He's a Malfoy. They're above the law."

"Malfoy? Well then, hello Mr. Malfoy." She held out her hand, and he eyed it slightly uncomfortably, before taking it hesitantly.

"Draco Malfoy, Mrs. Granger… it's a pleasure." He had quite a cavalier way of speaking when he wasn't being a prat, Hermione reflected, grinning as she noticed his hesitance. She had no idea why, but this certainly was a change from the stuck-up bastard she'd known for over six years.

Sabrina Granger grinned, before popping open the back door of the car and unloading the armful of books into the car. It was noticeable that the bookworm gene ran in the family.

"So… what are you doing out in London? Got family you're visiting before the holidays are over?"

"No actually… simply exploring."

"Well… don't mind me for saying this, but you might do better without the robes."

Hermione grinned victoriously, and Draco frowned, "Is there honestly something awful about that which I am currently wearing?"

"Oh no… you look perfectly handsome, but I must say you will stand out in a crowd… you would most likely be accused of wearing a dress out in public."

Hermione was in awe of her mother. Not even five minutes had passed, and she had the key to making Draco listen to her.

"A dress?" he asked in disbelief, "Why, I am wearing exactly what I'm supposed to be wearing, there is nothing wrong with my robes at all!"

Mrs. Granger raised an eyebrow, "Well then," she replied archly, "Then you most likely won't wonder at the lack of female companionship you'll have around here if you decide to stand out in a crowd."

Hermione grinned widely… she knew what was coming. This was exactly the same tactic she used with her father, who hated shopping as much as any other specimen of the male race.

"But anyway… Hermione and I need to be going home now… drop by to visit sometime if you want…" she invited.

"Mum, he has no idea where we live."

"Don't suppose it would matter, does it? We had our fireplace connected to the Floo Network last month didn't we?" she shook her head, smiling at Draco, "That other boy—what's his name?—has been over almost every week now…"

The blond was amazed to see a light blush on Hermione's cheeks. "You know very well Cameron and I broke it off this summer."

"Doesn't mean he came any less while you were dating…"

"Don't we have to get home?" Hermione asked, bringing the conversation back onto the road, and off any paths of the abstract.

"Yes indeed… have a wonderful time in London, Draco dear."

Mrs. Granger opened the driver's door, when Hermione was there, "Hey, hey, I'm driving, Mum."

With a grumpy look, the older woman relinquished her hold on the door handle and walked around the car to the passenger's side.

Draco felt like an idiot for the full two minutes that he was standing there. But perhaps the wait was worth it because Hermione smiled a cheery smile that he had rarely seen directed at him, and waved at him through the windshield before turning her attentions to navigating the ways of London traffic.

He grimaced to himself as he turned round, walking away. Nothing had changed between them. She was still the girl immersed in books, and he was still the bastard he'd always been.

And he almost believed it.

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Stefani: First chapter finished!

Nanashi: Don't get so ecstatic over it.

Chibi-Relena: Why?

Heero-chan: *shaking head* Don't ask. Just don't ask… we're better off that way.

Stefani: *glares at muses* And what was that supposed to mean?

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