Disclaimer: The characters and setting don't belong to me. The song Talking Like An Angel doesn't belong to me. They belong to JKR and Beth Thornley, respectively. What might belong to me, though, is the way in which the characters and settings are used for my own amusement. Tee hee.

Notes: This is my first attempt at chaptered fics, and I'm rather anxious posting it. Note that the characterization of various characters *cough*Ginny*cough* may change as the story progresses.

**Also, make sure you note the chapter title…they give clues as to what the chapter is about…

In other news… I will worship and honor and start a religion in your name if you review. Well…at least give you a nice big thank you.

Contacting the Author:

e-mail: praeludium104@yahoo.com

livejournal: www(dot)livejournal(dot)com/~la_triste

Talking Like An Angel Chapter I: Room of Requirements (Or) First Impressions Can Be Deceiving

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" Am I in the library?"

Those were the first 5 words that she ever spoke to me.

I was sitting at a table, and yes, there were a few bookcases that surrounded me.

" No." I was annoyed. A small, red headed girl who looked like she had been outside in the cold too long—her chapped lips and wind-slapped rosy cheeks along with her tangled hair; that was what she was. I also got the impression that she must not visit the library often, because if she did, then she would know that the library was not located on this floor. Idiot.

" Where am I?" Her eyebrows quirked inward as a sign of brief confusion, but her dry lips curved upwards in an amused smile. I immediately disliked her smile.

No, I glared. It's not the least bit funny.

" You're here." I bit out impatiently.

" Where's here?"

" The room of requirements." My answer insinuated that the former was quite obvious. But her pink lips formed an o, and she looked pleasantly surprised. She was like someone in one of those perfect stories that you read to little children, where everyone is perfectly polite and proper and disgustingly perfect. The kind of people you want to kick in the shins just to see what they'll do. This isn't sadistic of me at all—because people like them are unrealistic and don't need to be written about. Who the heck cares about perfect people, anyway?

" The room of requirements, huh?" She gushed. " Oh, I haven't been here forever! Funny that I should end up in here." She mused, grinning to herself.

I, on the other hand, was not smiling. Was not even considering it. I was grinding my teeth together in irritation, the same kind of irritation that every Gryffindor caused from me. And judging from the way she was smiling at me, she probably did not know who I was. If I had known just what kind of girl the little red head was, I probably would have run away right there and then.

" Are you studying in here?"

The trait of being overly peppy (see Gryffindor) seemed to almost always be followed by idiocy. Grinding my teeth just a bit more, I managed to glare up at her from my sheet of papers—

" No," I answered as dully as possible. " I'm making a nice, long list of all the horrible, mean things I can do to make people cry." Sarcasm has always been my forte. I knew my lips were tight and scrunched up, and that only happened when I was aggravated. The point of being in the room of requirements, was to be alone, so that I might finish my mountain load of homework in peace and quiet.

" Oh." She murmured, and her smile drooped a little. I began to smirk in satisfaction—but truth be told, she looked frightfully intimidated by me, and I realized how small she looked just then. That was my first perception of her—a shy, mousy girl who even I felt a little guilty when wiping the smile off her face—but I hadn't really known who she was back then; didn't know much about her at all.

No more of that for now…save your insults for some other poor little child. Sometimes, I really hated my Good Conscience, because it always decided to peep in at the most inconvenient of times. I was taken by surprise, anyway, for it was such a rare visit.

" I'm trying to finish my homework." I said tiredly, trying to keep all edginess out of my voice. She nodded, and let a soft smile grace her face, but she didn't seem too keen on talking again.

" And since I was here first, and this is my private library—I have the authority to inquire as to why you're here." I folded my arms across my chest and squinted up at her standing figure.

Please, have an invalid reason so I can kick you out of here…please…

" Well…" She bit her lip, as if in thought. Rolling her tongue around her mouth, she looked up at the ceiling. My teeth were grinding again: she talked too slow for my tastes.

" I remember I was with Neville—and then we heard Filch and his cat of his, Mrs. Norris rounding the corner, so we both scrammed, and I ran in the direction of the room of requirement." She looked at me and shrugged.

" I thought it was a broom closet, at first." She explained, almost apologetically.

I rolled my eyes, and bit the inside of my cheek to stop from saying anything that would affront her. I just wanted her out of here. Now.

Now, usually—like, say, if it had been Potter or one of his fellow morons, I would have had no hesitation in rudely telling them prance the hell away.

But I must have been having a horrible, absurd day, because I was too tired to even think properly, and therefore did not have the will to think of a way to get her out of my private space. I'm sure I merely sat there, looking too dumbfounded for a Malfoy. Let me say, it isn't every day someone walks in my room of requirements.

And all the while, she waited. Waiting for what? For me to stand up and bow before her, welcoming her into a place I had thought only I knew about? Waiting for me to start some kind of conversation with her?

When she did nothing but look around ever so innocently, hmming as she looked at the books on the shelves, I pursed my lips, dropped my pen and opened my mouth to ask her to leave, because she was distracting me.

" Hey, you—"

" Oh, my god!" But before I could get three words in, she suddenly peered at her watch, small, round mouth dropping in shock. Looking at me frantically, she whispered, " I-I've got to go! I'm late!"

And without another word, she slipped out of the room as quickly as she had entered, leaving behind a slight scent of strawberries.

I sat at the table, staring at the closed door, frowning. I was not slow—but this…this took a moment to register. Just for the briefest of moments, I wondered if I had fallen into an alternate universe where odd things like this happened all the time.

She comes, annoys the heck out of me, and then leaves, claiming to be 'late' for something. You also have to understand that I, being part of the Malfoy clan, did not exactly welcome such oddities with open arms.

Shaking my head, as if to shake her out of my thoughts, I muttered, " Good riddance."

But as I resumed what I had been doing earlier—finishing up my Transfiguration essay—I couldn't help thinking about her, and my fists clenched in an almost anger. She probably thought of me as a complete pansy now—telling all her little friends that Draco Malfoy was nothing to fear.

My jaw tightened at the thought of it, scolding myself for being such a bird-brain.

But then there was always next time, and next time, I would most definitely show her my wrath.

Glaring at the door—

I hoped she fell in a very large puddle.

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Notes: Hit the blue button, baby, if you've read the above! Need to know what you think of it. Sorry about the quick chapter—next one will be more eventful, but this scene is crucial later on. If I get a lot of reviews, the next chapter will come up within the next day.