The next morning, Hermione woke up with quite a huge head-ache, exhausted
and fully dressed and with muddy slippers on her bed. She gave out a large
sigh, recalling why exactly it was that she was fully dressed.
She cleaned her mud-ridden slippers and put her tennis shoes on. As she entered her first class of the day-divination class-she saw Trelawney had changed seats once again. She changed them every week or so, she said it changed the karma of the room, apparently it was supposed to make everyone feel relaxed, but what with Draco still on her mind, Hermione could feel anything BUT relaxed, and Gryffindor's quidditch team was in ruins, the only good player being Harry, of course. Ron had gone off the team when Draco had hit him in the-you-know-what-with a bludger when he had fallen off his broom and was on the ground. Ron had a growing fear of Quidditch since. "That squawking chicken," Hermione thought, grinning.
She looked to the left of her at the angelic devil boy with soft blonde hair and mysterious dark swirling eyes that wasn't like looking into normal eyes at all, but rather like looking at a whirlpool that enters a vast sea (I'm sure all you peeps out there have had a crush on someone who has had such eyes.or know someone who has those type of eyes.god knows I do.cept his eyes are blue-green, and are exactly like looking into an ocean. Sorry im rambling!). She realized she was staring, but couldn't help herself anymore than she could help having brown wavy hair and brown eyes. She quickly turned away, not that it mattered of course, for Draco didn't even notice her indulgent stare. He pretended she didn't exist, and she supposed that was for the best, but still, couldn't he at least give her one flicker of an expressionless eye? One twitch of an eyelid? She asked her quill what time it was; Dumbledore had taken up a hobby recently of inventing things, and she had received it as a prize on a Defense Against the Dark Arts essay she had written in her 6th year. Her quill flew itself out of her hand, and wrote down on the paper, "It's 13:03 and someone sends you a message that you should meet at the Slytherin stairs at around 14:20(there were no p.m's, or a.m's in my fanfiction, they use time likes this: there are 24 hours, so ya know, there can be 1 o clock, 2 o clock, 20 o clock.etc. get it?). There was no need to wonder as Hermione already knew who it was.
As the class ended, Hermione rushed out of her seat and ran up to the slytherin steps, not wanting to waste time, since she still needed to be on time for her next class (potions, ugh!) and this was the passing period. She waited for five impatient minutes, and after glaring at every person that walked by, Hermione made up her mind and stalked off, starting to think if this was all a sick joke, and if Draco was just the world's best actor. She doubted it. She had reached the end of the hall, when a silky smooth voice drawled into the air.
"Where you going so fast, Granger? Little goody two shoes wants to get to class on time? Please spare a minute on me, dearie, as I can fullfill your superior brain, questing for knowledge..," said a smirking Draco.
" Well, considering I waited for 5 minutes and you didn't show, yes, I did plan on being on time to the next class as a matter of fact." Hermione snapped irritably. She hadn't gotten much sleep, and Draco was incredibly annoying, his ego way above his blonde little head.
" Ok then, Herm-it, I supposed you can go waltz off to your next class. TOOTLES!" Draco exclaimed, grinnning brilliantly, waving to the imaginary Herm-It who would be waltzing down the hall in the future.
"No! Ok.tell me then! Stop this nonsense, just say what you know I want to hear," said Hermione finally, and marched down the hall to the slytherin stairs, where there was no one lingering, expecting Draco to follow.
"Tell me, Hermione, what is it exactly that you want to hear?" Draco said sweetly. Hermione shifted her eyes to the left, where he was lying on the stairs, elbows on stairs, and chin resting on his hands, looking up at her, and cast Draco a sneer. The type of sneer that you didn't use your mouth for, you just sneered with your eyes.
"Since you refuse to tell me, I will tell you what I imagine you would like to hear from me.Oh Hermione, how I love your sizzling body. Mate with me, marry me, Hermione!" Draco barely managed to gasp out before erupting in.did Hermione imagine this, or were those sounds erupting out of him giggles, and not cackles? Well, anyway, they were half giggles/ half cackles. A very mad, blushing Hermione kicked his elbow, and his chin fell on the point of a stair. Draco left and Hermione sprinted off to her next class, weaving her way through the swarms of buzzing students.
At lunch, Ron and Harry proceeded to the interrogation that Hermione was more than ready to answer, and had been expecting. It only annoyed her slightly, she was more pleased that her friends cared about her so much. Harry, of course, wasn't really one to talk openly of feelings, but Ron blurted anything that came off the top of his head, which sometimes included, "Golly Hermione, you look good in that shade of red," evidently having momentarily forgotten that he was speaking at the moment. Hermione was usually amused, but occasionally he irritated her to the point that she had to snap at him to shut up. He constantly babbled, but didn't actually SAY much. (If you know what I mean.that was a quote of Benjamin Franklin's. We learned that in History class today! Whoot whoot!)
She had fooled them, saying that her stomach had hurt, and what with her mother's birthday coming up, she had spent all night thinking of something, then conjuring it up and that was her excuse for being tired (and irritable). She looked across the great hall, her glance lingering on a certain blonde haired hottie, who happened to not acknolwedge her existence.
"Hermione, do pardon, but what are you looking at that slimehouse for?" Ron said questionably.
"Hmmm? What? Oh.I was just seeing what dirty tricks they were up to.I heard they were trying to control the Sorting Hat. Didn't you hear that? Pansy, the school car ( everyone gets a RIIIDE and everyone gets the news), told me personally." Hermione told him. That shut him up though he turned the shade of his newly bought burgundy sweatshirt, that he had gotten as a present from his Mum for Christmas. She doubted that Ron would actually suspect anything, but still his jealous emotions sensed something that his brain didn't comprehend, so he just resorted to telling her about Percy's latest revolting acts. -----------------------------------------~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~-------------- ------------------- The whole day went by like this. And by the time that Hermione realized her VERY STUPID, must she mention, crush on Draco, she already had a case of the undiagnosed blues. Draco was ignoring her, and though she knew why, it still made her sad. Without him or with him, the whole world seemed to be a shade of gray. Nothing mattered anymore.
That night, at the common room, Hermione didn't do her homework. She had already received a 'B' on that last test, so what did it matter anyhow? She lay on carpet in front of the fire, skimming a book, but none of the information seemed to enter her brains. The words meant nothing to her, for her thoughts were on Hogwarts least likely candidate for Hermione to have a crush on. And that meant that dead sexy teenager who was possesing her. With her thoughts on possesion, and obsession, Hermione's brain suddenly took a twist of thinking, and her thoughts turned to dark ones of Lord Voldemort. At this thought, his face, the hideous contorted face, came out of the fire.
"120 hours more you have left Hermione, or your beloved will take his father's place. 120.." the monster whispered, as it cackled and crackled together with the fire until it's unmoving face vanished. (poof!* =^.^=) Hermione stood up in fright, and tripped over the stairs to her room while being chased by the nothingness that was in store for the soon to be Draco. Everything went black. -----------------------------------------~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~-------------- -------------------
Hermione jerked her head up sleepily, as she felt a paper wad against the back of her head. She turned around warily, subjecting the thrower, Ophelia Borrims (a transfer student from Jakencecile in France) to a very grouchy glare.
It was a good thing Proffesor Sprout didn't notice a damned thing, otherwise she would have lost Gryffindor some points. She forced herself to pay attention, promising her exhausted body that she would reward it with a nap later on. She scribbled away at the parchment, listening to Professor Sprout with an intensity that not even Hermione knew she obtained. Snippets of her disturbing dream entered her brain every once in a while, but she pushed them to the back of her head, not wanting to listen. After all it was just a silly dream, right?
Hermione couldn't stand it any longer. Two full days of not either one of them saying a word. He refused to look at her, thought she supposed she would be ashamed to look at any person that had seen her cry, too. He didn't speak to her unless it was necessary to pretend nothing had happened, so then he just insulted her till she felt all sympathy for him flood out of her system and hatred seep in instead. At this rate he didn't need to insult her anyway, no one at all noticed anything had gone on.
Hermione decided she would confront him at lunch. She sent her quill flying over to his paper to scribble down her message.
Author's note: goddamnit, I'm so freaggin stuck its not even funny, I hope you couldn't tell that during that whole chapter I was stuck and just stalling, if you know what I mean. I'm open to any suggestions or ideas from those very few ppl who take the time to review this! Thankees sooooooooo much! Please review!lol. I want any kinds of reviews.flames.good reviews.etc. SQUEEE! =^.^=
She cleaned her mud-ridden slippers and put her tennis shoes on. As she entered her first class of the day-divination class-she saw Trelawney had changed seats once again. She changed them every week or so, she said it changed the karma of the room, apparently it was supposed to make everyone feel relaxed, but what with Draco still on her mind, Hermione could feel anything BUT relaxed, and Gryffindor's quidditch team was in ruins, the only good player being Harry, of course. Ron had gone off the team when Draco had hit him in the-you-know-what-with a bludger when he had fallen off his broom and was on the ground. Ron had a growing fear of Quidditch since. "That squawking chicken," Hermione thought, grinning.
She looked to the left of her at the angelic devil boy with soft blonde hair and mysterious dark swirling eyes that wasn't like looking into normal eyes at all, but rather like looking at a whirlpool that enters a vast sea (I'm sure all you peeps out there have had a crush on someone who has had such eyes.or know someone who has those type of eyes.god knows I do.cept his eyes are blue-green, and are exactly like looking into an ocean. Sorry im rambling!). She realized she was staring, but couldn't help herself anymore than she could help having brown wavy hair and brown eyes. She quickly turned away, not that it mattered of course, for Draco didn't even notice her indulgent stare. He pretended she didn't exist, and she supposed that was for the best, but still, couldn't he at least give her one flicker of an expressionless eye? One twitch of an eyelid? She asked her quill what time it was; Dumbledore had taken up a hobby recently of inventing things, and she had received it as a prize on a Defense Against the Dark Arts essay she had written in her 6th year. Her quill flew itself out of her hand, and wrote down on the paper, "It's 13:03 and someone sends you a message that you should meet at the Slytherin stairs at around 14:20(there were no p.m's, or a.m's in my fanfiction, they use time likes this: there are 24 hours, so ya know, there can be 1 o clock, 2 o clock, 20 o clock.etc. get it?). There was no need to wonder as Hermione already knew who it was.
As the class ended, Hermione rushed out of her seat and ran up to the slytherin steps, not wanting to waste time, since she still needed to be on time for her next class (potions, ugh!) and this was the passing period. She waited for five impatient minutes, and after glaring at every person that walked by, Hermione made up her mind and stalked off, starting to think if this was all a sick joke, and if Draco was just the world's best actor. She doubted it. She had reached the end of the hall, when a silky smooth voice drawled into the air.
"Where you going so fast, Granger? Little goody two shoes wants to get to class on time? Please spare a minute on me, dearie, as I can fullfill your superior brain, questing for knowledge..," said a smirking Draco.
" Well, considering I waited for 5 minutes and you didn't show, yes, I did plan on being on time to the next class as a matter of fact." Hermione snapped irritably. She hadn't gotten much sleep, and Draco was incredibly annoying, his ego way above his blonde little head.
" Ok then, Herm-it, I supposed you can go waltz off to your next class. TOOTLES!" Draco exclaimed, grinnning brilliantly, waving to the imaginary Herm-It who would be waltzing down the hall in the future.
"No! Ok.tell me then! Stop this nonsense, just say what you know I want to hear," said Hermione finally, and marched down the hall to the slytherin stairs, where there was no one lingering, expecting Draco to follow.
"Tell me, Hermione, what is it exactly that you want to hear?" Draco said sweetly. Hermione shifted her eyes to the left, where he was lying on the stairs, elbows on stairs, and chin resting on his hands, looking up at her, and cast Draco a sneer. The type of sneer that you didn't use your mouth for, you just sneered with your eyes.
"Since you refuse to tell me, I will tell you what I imagine you would like to hear from me.Oh Hermione, how I love your sizzling body. Mate with me, marry me, Hermione!" Draco barely managed to gasp out before erupting in.did Hermione imagine this, or were those sounds erupting out of him giggles, and not cackles? Well, anyway, they were half giggles/ half cackles. A very mad, blushing Hermione kicked his elbow, and his chin fell on the point of a stair. Draco left and Hermione sprinted off to her next class, weaving her way through the swarms of buzzing students.
At lunch, Ron and Harry proceeded to the interrogation that Hermione was more than ready to answer, and had been expecting. It only annoyed her slightly, she was more pleased that her friends cared about her so much. Harry, of course, wasn't really one to talk openly of feelings, but Ron blurted anything that came off the top of his head, which sometimes included, "Golly Hermione, you look good in that shade of red," evidently having momentarily forgotten that he was speaking at the moment. Hermione was usually amused, but occasionally he irritated her to the point that she had to snap at him to shut up. He constantly babbled, but didn't actually SAY much. (If you know what I mean.that was a quote of Benjamin Franklin's. We learned that in History class today! Whoot whoot!)
She had fooled them, saying that her stomach had hurt, and what with her mother's birthday coming up, she had spent all night thinking of something, then conjuring it up and that was her excuse for being tired (and irritable). She looked across the great hall, her glance lingering on a certain blonde haired hottie, who happened to not acknolwedge her existence.
"Hermione, do pardon, but what are you looking at that slimehouse for?" Ron said questionably.
"Hmmm? What? Oh.I was just seeing what dirty tricks they were up to.I heard they were trying to control the Sorting Hat. Didn't you hear that? Pansy, the school car ( everyone gets a RIIIDE and everyone gets the news), told me personally." Hermione told him. That shut him up though he turned the shade of his newly bought burgundy sweatshirt, that he had gotten as a present from his Mum for Christmas. She doubted that Ron would actually suspect anything, but still his jealous emotions sensed something that his brain didn't comprehend, so he just resorted to telling her about Percy's latest revolting acts. -----------------------------------------~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~-------------- ------------------- The whole day went by like this. And by the time that Hermione realized her VERY STUPID, must she mention, crush on Draco, she already had a case of the undiagnosed blues. Draco was ignoring her, and though she knew why, it still made her sad. Without him or with him, the whole world seemed to be a shade of gray. Nothing mattered anymore.
That night, at the common room, Hermione didn't do her homework. She had already received a 'B' on that last test, so what did it matter anyhow? She lay on carpet in front of the fire, skimming a book, but none of the information seemed to enter her brains. The words meant nothing to her, for her thoughts were on Hogwarts least likely candidate for Hermione to have a crush on. And that meant that dead sexy teenager who was possesing her. With her thoughts on possesion, and obsession, Hermione's brain suddenly took a twist of thinking, and her thoughts turned to dark ones of Lord Voldemort. At this thought, his face, the hideous contorted face, came out of the fire.
"120 hours more you have left Hermione, or your beloved will take his father's place. 120.." the monster whispered, as it cackled and crackled together with the fire until it's unmoving face vanished. (poof!* =^.^=) Hermione stood up in fright, and tripped over the stairs to her room while being chased by the nothingness that was in store for the soon to be Draco. Everything went black. -----------------------------------------~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~-------------- -------------------
Hermione jerked her head up sleepily, as she felt a paper wad against the back of her head. She turned around warily, subjecting the thrower, Ophelia Borrims (a transfer student from Jakencecile in France) to a very grouchy glare.
It was a good thing Proffesor Sprout didn't notice a damned thing, otherwise she would have lost Gryffindor some points. She forced herself to pay attention, promising her exhausted body that she would reward it with a nap later on. She scribbled away at the parchment, listening to Professor Sprout with an intensity that not even Hermione knew she obtained. Snippets of her disturbing dream entered her brain every once in a while, but she pushed them to the back of her head, not wanting to listen. After all it was just a silly dream, right?
Hermione couldn't stand it any longer. Two full days of not either one of them saying a word. He refused to look at her, thought she supposed she would be ashamed to look at any person that had seen her cry, too. He didn't speak to her unless it was necessary to pretend nothing had happened, so then he just insulted her till she felt all sympathy for him flood out of her system and hatred seep in instead. At this rate he didn't need to insult her anyway, no one at all noticed anything had gone on.
Hermione decided she would confront him at lunch. She sent her quill flying over to his paper to scribble down her message.
Author's note: goddamnit, I'm so freaggin stuck its not even funny, I hope you couldn't tell that during that whole chapter I was stuck and just stalling, if you know what I mean. I'm open to any suggestions or ideas from those very few ppl who take the time to review this! Thankees sooooooooo much! Please review!lol. I want any kinds of reviews.flames.good reviews.etc. SQUEEE! =^.^=