Turn the Clock Around
D/Hr future fic.
Eh. Screw this. I don't own them. I only own the plot and my witty comments. Like this one.. Err. This sucks. The story will also be @ this address: once it's finalized. Sorry for the fact that I can't get FF.Net to cooperate w/enhancements (bloody italics
and such)-- Sarah
Chapter Seven... Of Blood, Quirks & Homework
Hermione anxiously waited for Malfoy to arrive in their common room when there was a loud noise outside of the door, followed by shouts and a yelp of pain. Oh gods, What's going on? Hermione quickly stood up and exited the room. At her feet she found Malfoy, crunched up in a ball and a swish of black robes turn down the hallway. "Never speak of this, Granger." He murmured and attempted to stand up. Malfoy whimpered. "Here, let me help you." He gave her an annoyed glance. "I can do it on my own, thanks." "No you can't. Your arm is broken. Malfoy, just let me help you inside and we can easily fix it, we don't even have to visit Mada-" "Fine." He snapped. Hermione ignored his attitude. She couldn't be bothered by his moodiness right now. He was really hurt. As she helped him up and steadied him, she couldn't help but let her mind wander. Why was she helping him? Why did she care?
"Granger, are you going to help or shall I do it myself? Which won't go too well, because I am not using my left hand to do magic. You know the consequences of that." Of course Hermione knew that the wizarding world abided by the rules of old. Roman laws and such. They had carried on the left-is-sinister myth also. There was no left-handed wizards to be known of. Not that they were prejudiced or anything... "Right." Hermione nodded and quickly went to work. As she murmured the spell to heal his broken arm, Malfoy started talking, explaining himself. Once again, Hermione was confused as to why. "Granger, do you still want to know about the Dark Lord's stance on muggle borns or shall I not explain?" Muggle borns? When did Malfoy get so formal? They both knew that she was a mudblood and that was the final word from any Slytherin. But then again, he had said that blood didn't matter. "Of course." She nodded and he groaned as his bone popped and quickly healed. It was still dreadfully sore.
"Okay. Don't ask questions until I'm done, okay? This may be a bit.. complicated." Hermione shot him a look that dared him to say that she wouldn't understand because she wasn't of pure, noble blood. He didn't. "Okay. As we all know, the Dark Lord doesn't believe that muggle borns and half bloods should be wizards and that they are a disgrace to the wizarding world..." He paused as Hermione nodded, making sure not to speak or ask questions. She didn't want him to stop explaining just because of her curiousity got the better of her. "And we both know that he is not of pure blood himself. That doesn't matter though." Hermione arched an eyebrow. "It wasn't about the blood, for his rise to power that is. He is the heir of Slytherin through and through. He is the most cold blooded wizard to have crossed this earth in known history. He hasn't quite explained his reasons for disliking wizards and witches that weren't of pure blood, but father says it might be because of his father. His family was twisted and cold." Malfoy paused once more, but only because he was thinking of a way to explain this. "I guess it's not quite about that though... Honestly, even I don't know why. I understand now why wizards have married muggles though, it's quite odd to me that there are muggle borns though... how they've come to be wizards or witches completely amazes me..." He trailed off, and Hermione assumed there was more to what he was saying, but wasn't quite sure what to make or to add to it.
Not too long after Malfoy had 'explained' to Hermione, or rather simply confused her further, the subject of muggle borns and pure bloods, she found herself in her room, reading. "I need friends." She found herself whispering under her breath. It startled her a little when there was a reply. "Master Potter misses you greatly, Miss Granger." Hermione smiled to herself, and searched the room for her favourite-not that she played that game-house elf. "Hello, Dobby." "Hello, Miss Granger. Is there anything that I can do to be of service you?" "No thanks, Dobby. Why are you here?" She asked, confused. "Oh, the other house elfs complained that they didn't want to clean your rooms anymore. No offense meant, Miss Granger. What Dobby means is... they're scared of Master Malfoy." Hermione smirked. "And you're not?" "Oh, of course I am, Miss Granger, absolutely petrified. Especially with that thing in his room! It is an absolutely horrid creature, that is!" It took Hermione a moment to understand what he had meant. The dragon. She had meant to ask him about it again today. "Don't be afraid of him, Dobby. I don't think he truly means harm." Dobby shook a bit. "If I may disagree, he does mean harm. You forget, Miss Granger, that I used to serve his family." "Oh, but he's changed!" Hermione let out a sigh. She was defending Malfoy. To a house elf. She was disagreeing with a house elf. About a Malfoy. Gods, what was her problem? "Maybe." Dobby replied simply. "But sometimes it's the other people who change to suit someone else, so they don't realize what a horrible creature they truly are." Hermione laughed. "Oh, Dobby. It isn't I who has changed. I've simply.... grown. It's my friends who have changed. Not me." "Right, Miss Granger." With that, he moved into the bathroom and started cleaning. Maybe he's right...
Hermione drug her knap sack down the stairs, literally, into the common room. She needed a change of setting. She had been studying, reading and doing homework in her room for the last three hours. She only had her Arithmancy homework left. That would be easy.
Hermione had once asked Harry which he thought would be easier, arithmancy or divination, and he had replied simply that he thought both were false. Hermione begged to differ. In some ways she believed there were true seers and she knew from experience that Arithmancy hit the nail on the head. Sometimes a bit too close for comfort.
After she had completed her essay for Arithmancy, she smirked. Hermione hadn't listened to any of her muggle CDs in an awfully long time. She wondered how Malfoy would like them. She hurried up into her room and grabbed a few of her CDs. Bringing them downstairs, Hermione randomly chose one. Evanescense. She skimmed through the song selection after enchanting the CD to play. It spun in the air and Hermione's favourite song started to rise in the air, out of nowhere. "Perfect by nature, icons of self indulgence.. Just what we all need, more lies about a world that never was and never will be..have you no shame, don't you see me? You know you've got everybody fooled.." Hermione lounged in a chair, singing along.. or atleast attempting. It didn't take much to tell that Hermione wasn't the best of singers, so she kept her voice lowered and quiet. Her plan did not falter, Malfoy scurried down from his bedroom and smirked. "Evanescense. Nice choice of music." Hermione's eyes widened. "But they're muggles." She simply stated. "Does it truly matter if they're muggles or not? The lyrics are genius and the band is amazing. Besides, I beg to differ. Amy Lee is quite the witch." Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Really? I've always thought she might be an advanced Squib or something of that sort... but a witch? Honestly?" "Honestly." He smirked. Hermione had never thought a Malfoy would be interested in any of her music. Though he did seem to be a bit of a rock fan, she had taken notice of that.
Draco bit the inside of his cheek as Hermione rambled on about bands that he had never heard of from the muggle world. He grew a little nervous. What would his father think of this? A pure blood should never associate with a mudblood, especially when it's a Malfoy and a Granger. Damn his father for bring him to this cursed reality that he could never even consider himself friends with Hermione. Never. And it was all because of blood and a Dark Lord that wouldn't seem to die. Damn Voldemort. It was all his bloody fault anyway.
A/N: Ficlet to this chapter is available to read at
D/Hr future fic.
Eh. Screw this. I don't own them. I only own the plot and my witty comments. Like this one.. Err. This sucks. The story will also be @ this address: once it's finalized. Sorry for the fact that I can't get FF.Net to cooperate w/enhancements (bloody italics
and such)-- Sarah
Chapter Seven... Of Blood, Quirks & Homework
Hermione anxiously waited for Malfoy to arrive in their common room when there was a loud noise outside of the door, followed by shouts and a yelp of pain. Oh gods, What's going on? Hermione quickly stood up and exited the room. At her feet she found Malfoy, crunched up in a ball and a swish of black robes turn down the hallway. "Never speak of this, Granger." He murmured and attempted to stand up. Malfoy whimpered. "Here, let me help you." He gave her an annoyed glance. "I can do it on my own, thanks." "No you can't. Your arm is broken. Malfoy, just let me help you inside and we can easily fix it, we don't even have to visit Mada-" "Fine." He snapped. Hermione ignored his attitude. She couldn't be bothered by his moodiness right now. He was really hurt. As she helped him up and steadied him, she couldn't help but let her mind wander. Why was she helping him? Why did she care?
"Granger, are you going to help or shall I do it myself? Which won't go too well, because I am not using my left hand to do magic. You know the consequences of that." Of course Hermione knew that the wizarding world abided by the rules of old. Roman laws and such. They had carried on the left-is-sinister myth also. There was no left-handed wizards to be known of. Not that they were prejudiced or anything... "Right." Hermione nodded and quickly went to work. As she murmured the spell to heal his broken arm, Malfoy started talking, explaining himself. Once again, Hermione was confused as to why. "Granger, do you still want to know about the Dark Lord's stance on muggle borns or shall I not explain?" Muggle borns? When did Malfoy get so formal? They both knew that she was a mudblood and that was the final word from any Slytherin. But then again, he had said that blood didn't matter. "Of course." She nodded and he groaned as his bone popped and quickly healed. It was still dreadfully sore.
"Okay. Don't ask questions until I'm done, okay? This may be a bit.. complicated." Hermione shot him a look that dared him to say that she wouldn't understand because she wasn't of pure, noble blood. He didn't. "Okay. As we all know, the Dark Lord doesn't believe that muggle borns and half bloods should be wizards and that they are a disgrace to the wizarding world..." He paused as Hermione nodded, making sure not to speak or ask questions. She didn't want him to stop explaining just because of her curiousity got the better of her. "And we both know that he is not of pure blood himself. That doesn't matter though." Hermione arched an eyebrow. "It wasn't about the blood, for his rise to power that is. He is the heir of Slytherin through and through. He is the most cold blooded wizard to have crossed this earth in known history. He hasn't quite explained his reasons for disliking wizards and witches that weren't of pure blood, but father says it might be because of his father. His family was twisted and cold." Malfoy paused once more, but only because he was thinking of a way to explain this. "I guess it's not quite about that though... Honestly, even I don't know why. I understand now why wizards have married muggles though, it's quite odd to me that there are muggle borns though... how they've come to be wizards or witches completely amazes me..." He trailed off, and Hermione assumed there was more to what he was saying, but wasn't quite sure what to make or to add to it.
Not too long after Malfoy had 'explained' to Hermione, or rather simply confused her further, the subject of muggle borns and pure bloods, she found herself in her room, reading. "I need friends." She found herself whispering under her breath. It startled her a little when there was a reply. "Master Potter misses you greatly, Miss Granger." Hermione smiled to herself, and searched the room for her favourite-not that she played that game-house elf. "Hello, Dobby." "Hello, Miss Granger. Is there anything that I can do to be of service you?" "No thanks, Dobby. Why are you here?" She asked, confused. "Oh, the other house elfs complained that they didn't want to clean your rooms anymore. No offense meant, Miss Granger. What Dobby means is... they're scared of Master Malfoy." Hermione smirked. "And you're not?" "Oh, of course I am, Miss Granger, absolutely petrified. Especially with that thing in his room! It is an absolutely horrid creature, that is!" It took Hermione a moment to understand what he had meant. The dragon. She had meant to ask him about it again today. "Don't be afraid of him, Dobby. I don't think he truly means harm." Dobby shook a bit. "If I may disagree, he does mean harm. You forget, Miss Granger, that I used to serve his family." "Oh, but he's changed!" Hermione let out a sigh. She was defending Malfoy. To a house elf. She was disagreeing with a house elf. About a Malfoy. Gods, what was her problem? "Maybe." Dobby replied simply. "But sometimes it's the other people who change to suit someone else, so they don't realize what a horrible creature they truly are." Hermione laughed. "Oh, Dobby. It isn't I who has changed. I've simply.... grown. It's my friends who have changed. Not me." "Right, Miss Granger." With that, he moved into the bathroom and started cleaning. Maybe he's right...
Hermione drug her knap sack down the stairs, literally, into the common room. She needed a change of setting. She had been studying, reading and doing homework in her room for the last three hours. She only had her Arithmancy homework left. That would be easy.
Hermione had once asked Harry which he thought would be easier, arithmancy or divination, and he had replied simply that he thought both were false. Hermione begged to differ. In some ways she believed there were true seers and she knew from experience that Arithmancy hit the nail on the head. Sometimes a bit too close for comfort.
After she had completed her essay for Arithmancy, she smirked. Hermione hadn't listened to any of her muggle CDs in an awfully long time. She wondered how Malfoy would like them. She hurried up into her room and grabbed a few of her CDs. Bringing them downstairs, Hermione randomly chose one. Evanescense. She skimmed through the song selection after enchanting the CD to play. It spun in the air and Hermione's favourite song started to rise in the air, out of nowhere. "Perfect by nature, icons of self indulgence.. Just what we all need, more lies about a world that never was and never will be..have you no shame, don't you see me? You know you've got everybody fooled.." Hermione lounged in a chair, singing along.. or atleast attempting. It didn't take much to tell that Hermione wasn't the best of singers, so she kept her voice lowered and quiet. Her plan did not falter, Malfoy scurried down from his bedroom and smirked. "Evanescense. Nice choice of music." Hermione's eyes widened. "But they're muggles." She simply stated. "Does it truly matter if they're muggles or not? The lyrics are genius and the band is amazing. Besides, I beg to differ. Amy Lee is quite the witch." Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Really? I've always thought she might be an advanced Squib or something of that sort... but a witch? Honestly?" "Honestly." He smirked. Hermione had never thought a Malfoy would be interested in any of her music. Though he did seem to be a bit of a rock fan, she had taken notice of that.
Draco bit the inside of his cheek as Hermione rambled on about bands that he had never heard of from the muggle world. He grew a little nervous. What would his father think of this? A pure blood should never associate with a mudblood, especially when it's a Malfoy and a Granger. Damn his father for bring him to this cursed reality that he could never even consider himself friends with Hermione. Never. And it was all because of blood and a Dark Lord that wouldn't seem to die. Damn Voldemort. It was all his bloody fault anyway.
A/N: Ficlet to this chapter is available to read at