New Experiences
"If I could pick one moment and keep it shining, I'd pick the moment I met you."
~Unknown~
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Harry Potter was not exactly the most culturally literate person in the world but like everybody else, he had read about the eyes being the windows into a person's soul. Later, Harry would reflect that if ever there was an enigma, it was in Draco Malfoy's eyes.
But at that moment, those incredible, entrancing gray eyes trained down upon him were casually observing him coldly with barely-disguised contempt. Yet, there was something else there, a multitude of intensely passionate emotions that Harry could not identify. Still staring into Malfoy's stormy gray eyes, he muttered the apology that Draco seemed to expect.
Smirking, the boy opened his mouth about to reply when a pretty blond suddenly appeared at his elbow with a group of her friends, giggling and clutching at his arm, while sending Harry a glare that would surely have him well on his way into the next world if looks could truly kill.
"Dracoooo," she drawled in a nauseatingly sweet, syrupy voice, holding out the last vowel as she pouted, "is this little four-eyed git giving you a hard time." Her small delicate nose scrunched in distaste as she favored Harry with a brief glance before her irritated expression miraculously cleared within a fraction of a second as she turned up her face to Draco, widening her already impossibly large ocean-blue eyes while suggestively licking her red, sensuous lips, running her fingers through Malfoy's silky, golden strands as he in turn grabbed her around the waist, roughly grinding their bodies together as Harry watched in sheer astonishment quickly manifesting itself into repulsion; but what stunned him more was that no one but him seemed at the least surprised. Clearly Draco's court were used to these public displays of affection.
"Do you want us to beat him up Draco," one of the goons suddenly interjected, interrupting Draco and his girlfriend's rather inappropriate exhibitions.
Waving a regal hand in the air, the insufferable Malfoy heir merely laughed. "No, there is no need to soil your hands this early in the morning. Come along Pansy." Sneering, he turned to the girl he addressed as Pansy and was about to turn away when the fiery redhead who had been strangely quiet throughout the whole showdown suddenly launched himself at Draco. Fortunately for his life, Hermione had already forseen Ron's violent outburst and managed to check him in time.
Smirking at Ron's aborted attempt, Malfoy cast a quick glance at Harry looking at him up and down coolly in a way that infuriated Harry. He felt himself blushing as Malfoy casually judged him as if Harry was one of his subjects and he felt like determining how much this new boy was worth. Obviously Harry was not passing his test as his expression became more amused by the second, taking in Harry's ill-fitting, faded jeans and gray sweatshirt that he had inherited from Dudley.
Quickly deciding that Harry was not worth his time for an introduction before Ron had time to make another outburst, he turned on his heel followed by his court as he stalked down the hall that clearly said, "I rule this place and I dare you to challenge me," leaving behind, a furious Ron, an exasperated Hermione, and a stunned Harry who dutifully followed his friends as the three made their way to the American Literature class.
It was quite an understatement at that point to say that Harry was confused. A boy, possessing an ego the size of the Milky Way Galaxy had just rudely insulted him and he had only silently accepted the treatment as if it had been rightfully deserved. What was probably worse was that despite the fact that Malfoy had managed to earn Harry's hatred within a minute of their meeting, he had actually found that insufferable git attractive to his extreme distaste. Harry Potter had always known that he preferred the male structure to the female structure, but he had always managed to withhold this knowledge from his relatives. He shuddered to think of what would happen if Uncle Vernon ever found out they were sheltering a queer under their roof. But now, his first day at school, definitely wasn't the time to think about it! Shaking his head, he forced himself to stop obsessing over the useless git as he concentrated hard on blocking out Ron and Hermione's bickering which Harry felt were a vital part of their relationship.
Harry quietly trailed behind his two best friends as he carefully observed the students passing him, a few of them shooting him curious glances which he assumed was because of the poor excuse for clothes that he was forced to wear much to his embarrassment. Resolving not to become upset over such a trivial matter, he raised his eyes just in time to notice that he and his friends were walking behind who he assumed was Malfoy's girlfriend, surrounded by a group of her friends all of them wearing the miniskirt that is so typical of the cheerleading uniform. Pansy? Was that her name? Now that he had had a close look at her, he had to admit that she was a pretty girl however forced her beauty was. She was the stereotypic golden girl: tall and thin, with sun-kissed blond hair and clear light blue eyes but they were cold and Harry suspected that her beauty was far more artificial than natural. Well, Harry thought, she certainly deserved Malfoy.
Suddenly her group made a sharp right, disappearing into a classroom before Harry heard a screech that made him cover his ears hoping that no permanent damage was done to his eardrums.
"Oh Drakie, you're in this class. Maybe we should just cut class and go.somewhere more.private." And Harry could just see her batting her ridiculously long eyelashes clumped full of mascara attempting to wink suggestively at her boyfriend and Harry almost felt sorry for Malfoy before he remembered how much he hated that arrogant bastard.
"Oh god, once again, we have class with the Malfoy and his group. There really is no God," Ron groaned loudly as the trio walked into the class and Harry immediately decided he would join Ron in the atheist ranks as he noticed Dudley attempting to make intelligent conversation with an amused Malfoy flanked Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle all trying to get his attention.
Whatever impressive diction, Dudley was undoubtedly impressing the Malfoy heir with, Harry was certainly glad he would never know as the bell rang that instant and the students all rushed into the closest seat and Harry noticed to his dismay that he was sandwiched in between Ron and Malfoy. In sauntered a woman with white-blond hair shaped like a wig, dressed in a royal blue dress completed by a huge seashell necklace that did hide that did nothing to hide her plus-size figure to the dismay of the class.
"Alright, class we are about to embark into the wonderful world of American literature. I'm sure you'll quickly become fascinated with wonderful writers that I have grown to love such as Ralphie and Henry," she enthused, her face aglow with excitement as she took out a huge American literature textbook.
Confused, Harry gazed over at Ron who theatrically rolled his eyes. "Don't mind her Harry. That's Mrs. Walcott. She really has a few screws in that um.well whatever organ is in place of a brain, loose."
"Her idiocy," a smug voice from his left suddenly broke in, "reaches such heights as that your cousin seems like Einstein besides her, Potter," as Harry turned towards the origin of the voice, surprised as Malfoy drawled pleasantly to him.
"Shut up, Malfoy, nobody asked for your opinion." Ron's angry voice hissed back immediately. The boy merely smiled and turned his full attention back to Harry expectantly waiting for an answer.
"How did you know my name?" Harry finally stammered, half out of curiosity and half out of obligation.
"Oh I have my sources, Potter." And with that enigmatic response, he turned back towards his girlfriend who had been trying for the last five minutes to get his attention while alternately shooting death glares at Harry for daring to breath the same air as her.
"Now class, today I want you to show an exquisite sermon by Jonathan Edwards called Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God. Now I don't want of you girls to faint because it is very dramatic." Mrs. Walcott suddenly interrupted as she dramatically flung off her necklace that Harry felt truly disgraced the natural wonders of the seashore. Harry heard Malfoy and his cronies trying desperately trying to control his laughter to the point at which many had turned interesting shades of red and pink.
"Now I want you to turn around and close your eyes while I prepare a nice treat for you all," Mrs. Walcott declared before disappearing into a large closet and Harry heard rustling clothing as he forcefully kept his lids down because he certainly did not EVER want to be "treated" to Walcott in her natural form.
"Okay, class you may open your eyes now." Walcott's voice suddenly announced proudly and Harry opened his eyes gasping at the hilarious sight that met his eyes. There was Mrs. Walcott dressed in a long black, Puritan robe dangling to the floor, holding a Bible as she stepped theatrically up to the podium. Turning to watch Malfoy's reaction, he saw the blond clutching at his stomach as he doubled over with silent laughter as he desperately attempted to hide behind Hermione.
For the next twenty minutes, Harry and the entire class was treated to a reenactment of a fevered religious sermon complete with dramatic hand gestures as Mrs. Walcott fervently declared the horrible fate that was to await all the ungodly creatures in the room. Harry was about ready to ask for Walcott to mercifully end his life when the bell rang much to joy of his fellow classmates who all ran for the exit as if their existence depended upon it - and perhaps it did.
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A/N: Thank you, Moonchild for pointing out the spelling. I apologize for that and if this part didn't match your expectations. I rushed to get this part done.
In my sophomore year of high school, my friends and I took honors American literature with an extremely eccentric woman named Mrs. Walcott. We were most unfortunately subjected to the same treatment that I have just written about. This was actually the highlight of the most boring year of literature ever.
I do not believe I mentioned this, but Harry and company are all in their junior year.
"If I could pick one moment and keep it shining, I'd pick the moment I met you."
~Unknown~
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Harry Potter was not exactly the most culturally literate person in the world but like everybody else, he had read about the eyes being the windows into a person's soul. Later, Harry would reflect that if ever there was an enigma, it was in Draco Malfoy's eyes.
But at that moment, those incredible, entrancing gray eyes trained down upon him were casually observing him coldly with barely-disguised contempt. Yet, there was something else there, a multitude of intensely passionate emotions that Harry could not identify. Still staring into Malfoy's stormy gray eyes, he muttered the apology that Draco seemed to expect.
Smirking, the boy opened his mouth about to reply when a pretty blond suddenly appeared at his elbow with a group of her friends, giggling and clutching at his arm, while sending Harry a glare that would surely have him well on his way into the next world if looks could truly kill.
"Dracoooo," she drawled in a nauseatingly sweet, syrupy voice, holding out the last vowel as she pouted, "is this little four-eyed git giving you a hard time." Her small delicate nose scrunched in distaste as she favored Harry with a brief glance before her irritated expression miraculously cleared within a fraction of a second as she turned up her face to Draco, widening her already impossibly large ocean-blue eyes while suggestively licking her red, sensuous lips, running her fingers through Malfoy's silky, golden strands as he in turn grabbed her around the waist, roughly grinding their bodies together as Harry watched in sheer astonishment quickly manifesting itself into repulsion; but what stunned him more was that no one but him seemed at the least surprised. Clearly Draco's court were used to these public displays of affection.
"Do you want us to beat him up Draco," one of the goons suddenly interjected, interrupting Draco and his girlfriend's rather inappropriate exhibitions.
Waving a regal hand in the air, the insufferable Malfoy heir merely laughed. "No, there is no need to soil your hands this early in the morning. Come along Pansy." Sneering, he turned to the girl he addressed as Pansy and was about to turn away when the fiery redhead who had been strangely quiet throughout the whole showdown suddenly launched himself at Draco. Fortunately for his life, Hermione had already forseen Ron's violent outburst and managed to check him in time.
Smirking at Ron's aborted attempt, Malfoy cast a quick glance at Harry looking at him up and down coolly in a way that infuriated Harry. He felt himself blushing as Malfoy casually judged him as if Harry was one of his subjects and he felt like determining how much this new boy was worth. Obviously Harry was not passing his test as his expression became more amused by the second, taking in Harry's ill-fitting, faded jeans and gray sweatshirt that he had inherited from Dudley.
Quickly deciding that Harry was not worth his time for an introduction before Ron had time to make another outburst, he turned on his heel followed by his court as he stalked down the hall that clearly said, "I rule this place and I dare you to challenge me," leaving behind, a furious Ron, an exasperated Hermione, and a stunned Harry who dutifully followed his friends as the three made their way to the American Literature class.
It was quite an understatement at that point to say that Harry was confused. A boy, possessing an ego the size of the Milky Way Galaxy had just rudely insulted him and he had only silently accepted the treatment as if it had been rightfully deserved. What was probably worse was that despite the fact that Malfoy had managed to earn Harry's hatred within a minute of their meeting, he had actually found that insufferable git attractive to his extreme distaste. Harry Potter had always known that he preferred the male structure to the female structure, but he had always managed to withhold this knowledge from his relatives. He shuddered to think of what would happen if Uncle Vernon ever found out they were sheltering a queer under their roof. But now, his first day at school, definitely wasn't the time to think about it! Shaking his head, he forced himself to stop obsessing over the useless git as he concentrated hard on blocking out Ron and Hermione's bickering which Harry felt were a vital part of their relationship.
Harry quietly trailed behind his two best friends as he carefully observed the students passing him, a few of them shooting him curious glances which he assumed was because of the poor excuse for clothes that he was forced to wear much to his embarrassment. Resolving not to become upset over such a trivial matter, he raised his eyes just in time to notice that he and his friends were walking behind who he assumed was Malfoy's girlfriend, surrounded by a group of her friends all of them wearing the miniskirt that is so typical of the cheerleading uniform. Pansy? Was that her name? Now that he had had a close look at her, he had to admit that she was a pretty girl however forced her beauty was. She was the stereotypic golden girl: tall and thin, with sun-kissed blond hair and clear light blue eyes but they were cold and Harry suspected that her beauty was far more artificial than natural. Well, Harry thought, she certainly deserved Malfoy.
Suddenly her group made a sharp right, disappearing into a classroom before Harry heard a screech that made him cover his ears hoping that no permanent damage was done to his eardrums.
"Oh Drakie, you're in this class. Maybe we should just cut class and go.somewhere more.private." And Harry could just see her batting her ridiculously long eyelashes clumped full of mascara attempting to wink suggestively at her boyfriend and Harry almost felt sorry for Malfoy before he remembered how much he hated that arrogant bastard.
"Oh god, once again, we have class with the Malfoy and his group. There really is no God," Ron groaned loudly as the trio walked into the class and Harry immediately decided he would join Ron in the atheist ranks as he noticed Dudley attempting to make intelligent conversation with an amused Malfoy flanked Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle all trying to get his attention.
Whatever impressive diction, Dudley was undoubtedly impressing the Malfoy heir with, Harry was certainly glad he would never know as the bell rang that instant and the students all rushed into the closest seat and Harry noticed to his dismay that he was sandwiched in between Ron and Malfoy. In sauntered a woman with white-blond hair shaped like a wig, dressed in a royal blue dress completed by a huge seashell necklace that did hide that did nothing to hide her plus-size figure to the dismay of the class.
"Alright, class we are about to embark into the wonderful world of American literature. I'm sure you'll quickly become fascinated with wonderful writers that I have grown to love such as Ralphie and Henry," she enthused, her face aglow with excitement as she took out a huge American literature textbook.
Confused, Harry gazed over at Ron who theatrically rolled his eyes. "Don't mind her Harry. That's Mrs. Walcott. She really has a few screws in that um.well whatever organ is in place of a brain, loose."
"Her idiocy," a smug voice from his left suddenly broke in, "reaches such heights as that your cousin seems like Einstein besides her, Potter," as Harry turned towards the origin of the voice, surprised as Malfoy drawled pleasantly to him.
"Shut up, Malfoy, nobody asked for your opinion." Ron's angry voice hissed back immediately. The boy merely smiled and turned his full attention back to Harry expectantly waiting for an answer.
"How did you know my name?" Harry finally stammered, half out of curiosity and half out of obligation.
"Oh I have my sources, Potter." And with that enigmatic response, he turned back towards his girlfriend who had been trying for the last five minutes to get his attention while alternately shooting death glares at Harry for daring to breath the same air as her.
"Now class, today I want you to show an exquisite sermon by Jonathan Edwards called Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God. Now I don't want of you girls to faint because it is very dramatic." Mrs. Walcott suddenly interrupted as she dramatically flung off her necklace that Harry felt truly disgraced the natural wonders of the seashore. Harry heard Malfoy and his cronies trying desperately trying to control his laughter to the point at which many had turned interesting shades of red and pink.
"Now I want you to turn around and close your eyes while I prepare a nice treat for you all," Mrs. Walcott declared before disappearing into a large closet and Harry heard rustling clothing as he forcefully kept his lids down because he certainly did not EVER want to be "treated" to Walcott in her natural form.
"Okay, class you may open your eyes now." Walcott's voice suddenly announced proudly and Harry opened his eyes gasping at the hilarious sight that met his eyes. There was Mrs. Walcott dressed in a long black, Puritan robe dangling to the floor, holding a Bible as she stepped theatrically up to the podium. Turning to watch Malfoy's reaction, he saw the blond clutching at his stomach as he doubled over with silent laughter as he desperately attempted to hide behind Hermione.
For the next twenty minutes, Harry and the entire class was treated to a reenactment of a fevered religious sermon complete with dramatic hand gestures as Mrs. Walcott fervently declared the horrible fate that was to await all the ungodly creatures in the room. Harry was about ready to ask for Walcott to mercifully end his life when the bell rang much to joy of his fellow classmates who all ran for the exit as if their existence depended upon it - and perhaps it did.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Thank you, Moonchild for pointing out the spelling. I apologize for that and if this part didn't match your expectations. I rushed to get this part done.
In my sophomore year of high school, my friends and I took honors American literature with an extremely eccentric woman named Mrs. Walcott. We were most unfortunately subjected to the same treatment that I have just written about. This was actually the highlight of the most boring year of literature ever.
I do not believe I mentioned this, but Harry and company are all in their junior year.
