Disclaimer: If I owned the books, I'd be rich now.
Key:
*this stuff is emphasis*
_this stuff is italics_
[this stuff is numbers for footnotes]
~this stuff is written in a letter or on a note~
A/N: Thank you all you lovely people who reviewed! ::hugs all around::
So here's the second chapter, as it wasn't promised. You know you're excited. I certainly am.
*********
_Last stop,_ thought Hermione bitterly, as she peered through the window into the train car. After trying nearly every car, and rejecting each, since no one seemed to want to talk to her or even *look* at her, she'd found this car, which only contained one person: Neville Longbottom. Heaving her trunk behind her, she opened the door, making a great deal of noise, which in turn made Neville peek up from his curled-up position against the side of the car.
"Hello, Hermione," he said, smiling, and then yawned broadly. It seemed he had been awoken from a nap. "I like your hair."
"Hullo, Neville." *Finally* someone was *talking* to her. "Thanks." As she stowed her trunk, she grunted, "How was your summer?"
"It got better," Neville said, straightening out in his seat. "My grandmother died--"
"Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry," she said, pausing for a moment before releasing the howling Crookshanks from his basket.
"--and I was going to stay with my family, but then I got a job at Fred and George's joke shop, so I got to stay with them!"
"That's great, Neville!" Hermione sat down opposite him. "How are Fred and George?" Due to the random explosions coming from the vicinity of the shop, she hadn't been able to persuade her parents to enter during their visit to Diagon Alley.
"They're okay. How was your summ--ohh..." he trailed off, looking at the floor. There was a pause, as he seemed to be searching for something to say. Then, "Where's your Prefect badge?"
Hermione had been ready to wear her Head Girl badge on the train, but then thought that maybe people would think she was bragging. She'd then realized bitterly that if Harry and Ron were there, she wouldn't have hesitated to wear it. "I don't need it this year," she said.
"What, you think everyone'll recognize you? But what about the first years?"
"No, uh, I'm, uh," she coughed, blushing, "I'm Head Girl."
"Oh! Congratulations, Hermione! But don't you have to wear your badge for that too--"
The door clunked open. "Would either of you like to buy some snacks?"
There was a pang in Hermione's heart. Normally, she would have just had a piece of one of Harry or Ron's cauldron cakes, and nabbed a chocolate frog, but now...she felt sick to her stomach thinking about her conspicuously absent friends. "No, thank you."
"I'll have a chocolate frog," said Neville brightly, not noticing Hermione's discomfort.
*********
Everything after that went according to routine. She spent the rest of the trip talking to Neville, and then reading when he couldn't seem to find a thing to say. Knowing he was trying to avoid the subject of her two missing best friends, she tactfully steered the conversation to her book when there was a lull. She changed clothes on the train, and, when they arrived, she took a coach with Neville up to the castle.
There, having arrived in the Great Hall, she searched for a seat at the Gryffindor table, having exhausted all topics of conversation with Neville, who, though very friendly, tended to talk mostly of Herbology, which--after two hours of it--was boring Hermione out of her wits. Luckily, she didn't have time to be shunned by everyone at the table, since Professor McGonagall called the Prefects/Head Girl/Head Boy meeting. The group was led to a quiet common room, and that was where things got interesting.
"Miss Granger is our Head Girl this year," said McGonagall, smiling and nodding at her, "and our Head Boy is Mr. Malfoy," she nodded at him, and he nodded back, unsmiling.
Hermione noticed for the first time her old archnemesis sitting in a corner of the room. Quite frankly, she couldn't believe she'd overlooked him. But he hadn't said anything snobby to *anybody,* and she'd managed to forget he was present. In fact, she found it odd that he hadn't stopped by her car on the train to insult her, like he usually did.
Just as she was examining the Head Boy curiously, the door opened and a flushed and
smiling Parvati Patil came through it, clicking it shut behind her. "Hi," she said, in the direction of the Ravenclaw Prefects.
"Ah. Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "Since Ms. Granger is Head Girl, and Mr. Weasley...isn't attending this year..." Hermione stared at the floor for a moment. "We've found ourselves short of Prefects in Gryffindor house, so I've asked that Parvati here be made one." Parvati, still smiling, went over to stand by the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, telling them excitedly,
"Professor Dumbledore just announced it in the middle of his speech--I had to run here."
Professor McGonagall then gave the Prefects (new and old) the same speech she seemed to give every year, and then announced all the passwords for common rooms. Then she dismissed the Prefects, requesting that the Head Girl and Boy stay for a few minutes.
"As the Heads of our school, you two will have some new responsibilities." The two students waited patiently and quietly. "You're now in charge of coordinating all celebrations for the holidays, including decorations, entertainment," McGonagall paused significantly after this one, "and food and drink. But your main priority is to set an example for the rest of the school--very important. Keep your marks as they are, continue with your good behavior--or, rather, begin to comport yourself with good behavior--" she looked a bit amused for a moment, "--and you should be fine.
"Now, as Head Boy and Girl, you're entitled to certain privileges, the most significant of which being having your own dormitory." Hermione raised her eyebrows, surprised. "It's located on the third floor, behind the painting of the woman in the white gown. In addition to the password--which is _dimpleton_, by the way--there's a special technique to getting into the door beyond."
McGonagall produced two odd-looking keypads, about the size of Hermione's palm, and presented one to each of them. Examining hers, Hermione discovered that it had, instead of numbers, runes on each button. All the buttons were different colors. "Place this on the door, and enter this combination:" here she demonstrated on Hermione's keypad "red, blue, pink, green. The door will unlock, and you can take the keypad off once the door is open."
The professor looked ready to wrap up her speech. "Well, I'll let you two get to dinner. But on a special note," she leaned closer to the two of them, "I know you two don't get along, but I'll expect nothing less from the Heads of the school than complete civility, am I understood?"
"Yes, Professor," said Hermione. Malfoy just nodded. _The least he could do is *say* something..._ Conversation all finished, the head of Gryffindor house swept out of the room. Hermione looked at Malfoy. Malfoy looked back. "Well, I guess we better..."
"Yeah."
*********
_Why's he being so quiet?_ Hermione asked herself as they made their way to their dormitory after dinner. They'd somehow wound up next to each other as they left the Great Hall. Stealing a peek at him as they ascended the stairs, Hermione noted that his shoulders were slumped as he almost shuffled along. What a change from previous years, when he'd held himself up arrogantly.
Their footsteps echoed in the empty third-floor hallway. _Maybe I should start a conversation._ "So..." began Hermione doubtfully. Malfoy looked at her expectantly, making her panic, having not thought up a question beforehand. _What do you ask a Slytherin after the Dark Lord is defeated?_ She couldn't very well ask him about how he got to be Head Boy, even though that was the only thing coming to mind right now. That would hardly be polite.
She couldn't ask him about their new dormitory, since they were about to see it anyway. And what else did she know about him? Next to nothing. Finally, she settled on, "What electives are you taking this year?"
"Muggle Studies, Divination. Arithmancy." Hermione was startled at the commotion his voice seemed to stir in the air, after such a long time of only the echoing of their footsteps.
"We might wind up in the same class, then," she said, trying to sound as if this was a good thing. She hoped that it was a good thing. "I heard a lot of people have dropped out of Muggle Studies...after the war..." After six months of fighting for themselves, while keeping the entire thing under wraps from Muggles, it was no wonder some wizards harbored ill will toward the non-magic folk.
Wait a second. *Malfoy* taking *Muggle Studies*? Mr. Pureblood himself? This needed further investigation...unfortunately, just then, he answered. "Maybe," he said shortly. Then he looked to his left. "Here we are."
"Hello," Hermione greeted the woman in the portrait. She was tall, extremely delicate-looking, and seemed to be in her early twenties. Her dress was a pure, snow white.
"Hello. It is a great pleasure to meet you. Are you two the Head Boy and Girl?"
"Yes. I'm Hermione Granger, and..." when Malfoy made no motion to introduce himself, she continued. "This is Draco Malfoy."
"Wonderful," said the portrait, smiling affectionately. "My name is Esmerelda Penelope White," she gestured to her dress, "but you can call me Penny. If I may ask, what houses are you two in?"
Malfoy still said nothing, so Hermione spoke for both of them again. "Slytherin," she gestured to her silent companion, "and Gryffindor."
"Ah! Red and green! It's like Christmas!" Sighing dolefully, she said, "I remember my last real Christmas." Penny looked a little wistful. "It was so beautiful." Then she appeared to zone off for a moment, during which time Hermione looked to Malfoy, who looked quizzically at her, as if to say 'I don't know, either.' "But that was a long time ago," Penny said, clearing her throat. "You two wouldn't happen to have the password, would you? It's only for this one time, since there are only the two of you to remember," she chuckled sweetly.
"Dimpleton," said Hermione.
"Ah, that's it," said the portrait warmly, swinging away from the wall.
Behind the framed canvas was a deceptively thin-looking dark, wooden door with a yellow square outline at eye-level to Malfoy. Drawing her keypad out of her pocket, she placed it in the outline and tried to remember the combination. To her surprise, the buttons lit up when the back of the keypad touched the door. _Red, blue, green, pink,_ she entered.
"No, it's like this," Malfoy said, not unkindly. He punched the buttons, _Red, blue, pink, green._ Nothing happened.
"I think you have to--" said Hermione, cutting herself off when she turned the doorknob and the door swung open. Smiling, she took her keypad down from the door and walked down the short hallway to the common room. "Wow," she said shortly.
She turned back to look at Malfoy when she heard the door close behind her, and realized she had been rather rude, but then she turned back to the common room and that didn't seem to matter.
Dark walls gave the room an enclosed, cozy feeling, and everything was decorated a bit more lavishly than the Gryffindor common room, to say the least. Leather chairs, a fancy rug, and a gorgeous fireplace--all in good repair--were the main features of the room. Hermione heard Malfoy stop just left of her elbow, and they both surveyed their new home. Then Malfoy stepped out into the room and passed to the three open doors on the left wall of the room. Peering into one, he looked back at her and said, expressionless, "This one's yours," and passed onto the next one. "Bathroom," he said at the middle door, then at the last one, "Mine." He disappeared through the doorway. _Since when did Malfoy become a wallflower?_
Dragging her fingers across the soft leather of an overstuffed armchair as she passed, Hermione drifted to her room.
*********
Lost.
Hermione felt uprooted from her home. Though the new quarters were certainly beautiful, she'd found last night that she had trouble getting to sleep without the soft breathing--and snoring--of her roommates. Of course, she'd had no trouble at home, but that was a familiar bed, and it felt *right* without her roommates there, but now she was here...and there was that familiar sense of *Hogwarts* around her...well. It just made her feel lost.
And now she was sitting down in her second class of the year: Transfiguration. Her hand kept straying to the pocket in her bag, fingering a small scrap of parchment there. Last period, in Potions (double with the Slytherins, as had become the norm over the years), on the way out she'd seen a tiny bit of parchment slip out of Malfoy's notebook. She'd been the last in the classroom, and had snatched it up to return it to him--what were Head Girls for, anyway?--but when she left the classroom, he was already gone. So as she sat down at her regular (though now empty) table in Professor McGonagall's classroom, she pulled the scrap from her bag and placed it on top of her book.
"Good morning, class," greeted McGonagall, striding in. "I trust you're all feeling refreshed after the summer?" There was a murmuring of various assents and dissents. "Well, we're going to be covering a great deal for your N.E.W.T. exams this year, so..."
The Professor's voice seemed to fade as Hermione began to read the paper. It was covered with lean, spiky handwriting.
~Top Ten Worst Names Ever,~ the title at the top read. Hermione creased her brow in confusion.
~10. Candy, Bambi, Sunny, Bunny, or any other disgustingly sweet name.
9. Burgis--heaven *forbid* some poor man have to respond to this name.
8. Mercedes, Chevrolet--women are not cars, contrary to popular belief.~
Hermione smiled at the paper and tried not to laugh.
7. Priscilla--because I've never really liked the nickname 'Prissy.'
6. Brett or Ralph--or any other name that sounds like someone paying homage to the _ porcelein master.
5. Fox. What woman in her right mind would give this name to a child?
4. Lew, John--yeah, naming a kid after a toilet is a great idea.
3. Adolf and Napoleon--for historical reasons. Besides, one of the nicknames for _ Napoleon is 'Nappy.'
2. Aurelie. "I love you, Aurelie." Say it aloud. That's what I thought.~
Hermione couldn't help it, she started sniggering as quietly as she could.
"Perhaps you'd like to share with the whole class what you find so amusing, Ms. Granger, because it most certainly is not the syllabus." Shocked into solemnity, Hermione grabbed the parchment that had been dropped on her table.
"Sorry, Professor."
McGonagall glared at her for a few seconds before returning to her lecture about turning oneself into things, and the danger that lay in speaking the wrong incantation.
Tucking the slip of parchment away in her bag, Hermione tried to refocus on what her teacher was saying, appalled at her own behavior. _I'll just save number one for later._
*********
It was later--next class, in fact. While Professor Binns began to speak, Hermione drew out the piece of parchment once more, scanned, chuckling quietly, down to the bottom, and reached what she was looking for.
~1. Draco Malfoy.~ There was a scratched-out comment beside it.
What?
*********
A/N--
Next chapter: Why Draco's suddenly a wallflower.
Next chapter will hopefully be up tomorrow, but there's always the possibility I might not have time (yeah, me and my lifestyle that's so busy I have time to write 3000 words of fanfiction a day, okay). 'Till then, I'm pretty happy with how this chapter came out. Intrigue, magic, angst--these are three of my favorite words right now. 'Bye!
Key:
*this stuff is emphasis*
_this stuff is italics_
[this stuff is numbers for footnotes]
~this stuff is written in a letter or on a note~
A/N: Thank you all you lovely people who reviewed! ::hugs all around::
So here's the second chapter, as it wasn't promised. You know you're excited. I certainly am.
*********
_Last stop,_ thought Hermione bitterly, as she peered through the window into the train car. After trying nearly every car, and rejecting each, since no one seemed to want to talk to her or even *look* at her, she'd found this car, which only contained one person: Neville Longbottom. Heaving her trunk behind her, she opened the door, making a great deal of noise, which in turn made Neville peek up from his curled-up position against the side of the car.
"Hello, Hermione," he said, smiling, and then yawned broadly. It seemed he had been awoken from a nap. "I like your hair."
"Hullo, Neville." *Finally* someone was *talking* to her. "Thanks." As she stowed her trunk, she grunted, "How was your summer?"
"It got better," Neville said, straightening out in his seat. "My grandmother died--"
"Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry," she said, pausing for a moment before releasing the howling Crookshanks from his basket.
"--and I was going to stay with my family, but then I got a job at Fred and George's joke shop, so I got to stay with them!"
"That's great, Neville!" Hermione sat down opposite him. "How are Fred and George?" Due to the random explosions coming from the vicinity of the shop, she hadn't been able to persuade her parents to enter during their visit to Diagon Alley.
"They're okay. How was your summ--ohh..." he trailed off, looking at the floor. There was a pause, as he seemed to be searching for something to say. Then, "Where's your Prefect badge?"
Hermione had been ready to wear her Head Girl badge on the train, but then thought that maybe people would think she was bragging. She'd then realized bitterly that if Harry and Ron were there, she wouldn't have hesitated to wear it. "I don't need it this year," she said.
"What, you think everyone'll recognize you? But what about the first years?"
"No, uh, I'm, uh," she coughed, blushing, "I'm Head Girl."
"Oh! Congratulations, Hermione! But don't you have to wear your badge for that too--"
The door clunked open. "Would either of you like to buy some snacks?"
There was a pang in Hermione's heart. Normally, she would have just had a piece of one of Harry or Ron's cauldron cakes, and nabbed a chocolate frog, but now...she felt sick to her stomach thinking about her conspicuously absent friends. "No, thank you."
"I'll have a chocolate frog," said Neville brightly, not noticing Hermione's discomfort.
*********
Everything after that went according to routine. She spent the rest of the trip talking to Neville, and then reading when he couldn't seem to find a thing to say. Knowing he was trying to avoid the subject of her two missing best friends, she tactfully steered the conversation to her book when there was a lull. She changed clothes on the train, and, when they arrived, she took a coach with Neville up to the castle.
There, having arrived in the Great Hall, she searched for a seat at the Gryffindor table, having exhausted all topics of conversation with Neville, who, though very friendly, tended to talk mostly of Herbology, which--after two hours of it--was boring Hermione out of her wits. Luckily, she didn't have time to be shunned by everyone at the table, since Professor McGonagall called the Prefects/Head Girl/Head Boy meeting. The group was led to a quiet common room, and that was where things got interesting.
"Miss Granger is our Head Girl this year," said McGonagall, smiling and nodding at her, "and our Head Boy is Mr. Malfoy," she nodded at him, and he nodded back, unsmiling.
Hermione noticed for the first time her old archnemesis sitting in a corner of the room. Quite frankly, she couldn't believe she'd overlooked him. But he hadn't said anything snobby to *anybody,* and she'd managed to forget he was present. In fact, she found it odd that he hadn't stopped by her car on the train to insult her, like he usually did.
Just as she was examining the Head Boy curiously, the door opened and a flushed and
smiling Parvati Patil came through it, clicking it shut behind her. "Hi," she said, in the direction of the Ravenclaw Prefects.
"Ah. Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "Since Ms. Granger is Head Girl, and Mr. Weasley...isn't attending this year..." Hermione stared at the floor for a moment. "We've found ourselves short of Prefects in Gryffindor house, so I've asked that Parvati here be made one." Parvati, still smiling, went over to stand by the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, telling them excitedly,
"Professor Dumbledore just announced it in the middle of his speech--I had to run here."
Professor McGonagall then gave the Prefects (new and old) the same speech she seemed to give every year, and then announced all the passwords for common rooms. Then she dismissed the Prefects, requesting that the Head Girl and Boy stay for a few minutes.
"As the Heads of our school, you two will have some new responsibilities." The two students waited patiently and quietly. "You're now in charge of coordinating all celebrations for the holidays, including decorations, entertainment," McGonagall paused significantly after this one, "and food and drink. But your main priority is to set an example for the rest of the school--very important. Keep your marks as they are, continue with your good behavior--or, rather, begin to comport yourself with good behavior--" she looked a bit amused for a moment, "--and you should be fine.
"Now, as Head Boy and Girl, you're entitled to certain privileges, the most significant of which being having your own dormitory." Hermione raised her eyebrows, surprised. "It's located on the third floor, behind the painting of the woman in the white gown. In addition to the password--which is _dimpleton_, by the way--there's a special technique to getting into the door beyond."
McGonagall produced two odd-looking keypads, about the size of Hermione's palm, and presented one to each of them. Examining hers, Hermione discovered that it had, instead of numbers, runes on each button. All the buttons were different colors. "Place this on the door, and enter this combination:" here she demonstrated on Hermione's keypad "red, blue, pink, green. The door will unlock, and you can take the keypad off once the door is open."
The professor looked ready to wrap up her speech. "Well, I'll let you two get to dinner. But on a special note," she leaned closer to the two of them, "I know you two don't get along, but I'll expect nothing less from the Heads of the school than complete civility, am I understood?"
"Yes, Professor," said Hermione. Malfoy just nodded. _The least he could do is *say* something..._ Conversation all finished, the head of Gryffindor house swept out of the room. Hermione looked at Malfoy. Malfoy looked back. "Well, I guess we better..."
"Yeah."
*********
_Why's he being so quiet?_ Hermione asked herself as they made their way to their dormitory after dinner. They'd somehow wound up next to each other as they left the Great Hall. Stealing a peek at him as they ascended the stairs, Hermione noted that his shoulders were slumped as he almost shuffled along. What a change from previous years, when he'd held himself up arrogantly.
Their footsteps echoed in the empty third-floor hallway. _Maybe I should start a conversation._ "So..." began Hermione doubtfully. Malfoy looked at her expectantly, making her panic, having not thought up a question beforehand. _What do you ask a Slytherin after the Dark Lord is defeated?_ She couldn't very well ask him about how he got to be Head Boy, even though that was the only thing coming to mind right now. That would hardly be polite.
She couldn't ask him about their new dormitory, since they were about to see it anyway. And what else did she know about him? Next to nothing. Finally, she settled on, "What electives are you taking this year?"
"Muggle Studies, Divination. Arithmancy." Hermione was startled at the commotion his voice seemed to stir in the air, after such a long time of only the echoing of their footsteps.
"We might wind up in the same class, then," she said, trying to sound as if this was a good thing. She hoped that it was a good thing. "I heard a lot of people have dropped out of Muggle Studies...after the war..." After six months of fighting for themselves, while keeping the entire thing under wraps from Muggles, it was no wonder some wizards harbored ill will toward the non-magic folk.
Wait a second. *Malfoy* taking *Muggle Studies*? Mr. Pureblood himself? This needed further investigation...unfortunately, just then, he answered. "Maybe," he said shortly. Then he looked to his left. "Here we are."
"Hello," Hermione greeted the woman in the portrait. She was tall, extremely delicate-looking, and seemed to be in her early twenties. Her dress was a pure, snow white.
"Hello. It is a great pleasure to meet you. Are you two the Head Boy and Girl?"
"Yes. I'm Hermione Granger, and..." when Malfoy made no motion to introduce himself, she continued. "This is Draco Malfoy."
"Wonderful," said the portrait, smiling affectionately. "My name is Esmerelda Penelope White," she gestured to her dress, "but you can call me Penny. If I may ask, what houses are you two in?"
Malfoy still said nothing, so Hermione spoke for both of them again. "Slytherin," she gestured to her silent companion, "and Gryffindor."
"Ah! Red and green! It's like Christmas!" Sighing dolefully, she said, "I remember my last real Christmas." Penny looked a little wistful. "It was so beautiful." Then she appeared to zone off for a moment, during which time Hermione looked to Malfoy, who looked quizzically at her, as if to say 'I don't know, either.' "But that was a long time ago," Penny said, clearing her throat. "You two wouldn't happen to have the password, would you? It's only for this one time, since there are only the two of you to remember," she chuckled sweetly.
"Dimpleton," said Hermione.
"Ah, that's it," said the portrait warmly, swinging away from the wall.
Behind the framed canvas was a deceptively thin-looking dark, wooden door with a yellow square outline at eye-level to Malfoy. Drawing her keypad out of her pocket, she placed it in the outline and tried to remember the combination. To her surprise, the buttons lit up when the back of the keypad touched the door. _Red, blue, green, pink,_ she entered.
"No, it's like this," Malfoy said, not unkindly. He punched the buttons, _Red, blue, pink, green._ Nothing happened.
"I think you have to--" said Hermione, cutting herself off when she turned the doorknob and the door swung open. Smiling, she took her keypad down from the door and walked down the short hallway to the common room. "Wow," she said shortly.
She turned back to look at Malfoy when she heard the door close behind her, and realized she had been rather rude, but then she turned back to the common room and that didn't seem to matter.
Dark walls gave the room an enclosed, cozy feeling, and everything was decorated a bit more lavishly than the Gryffindor common room, to say the least. Leather chairs, a fancy rug, and a gorgeous fireplace--all in good repair--were the main features of the room. Hermione heard Malfoy stop just left of her elbow, and they both surveyed their new home. Then Malfoy stepped out into the room and passed to the three open doors on the left wall of the room. Peering into one, he looked back at her and said, expressionless, "This one's yours," and passed onto the next one. "Bathroom," he said at the middle door, then at the last one, "Mine." He disappeared through the doorway. _Since when did Malfoy become a wallflower?_
Dragging her fingers across the soft leather of an overstuffed armchair as she passed, Hermione drifted to her room.
*********
Lost.
Hermione felt uprooted from her home. Though the new quarters were certainly beautiful, she'd found last night that she had trouble getting to sleep without the soft breathing--and snoring--of her roommates. Of course, she'd had no trouble at home, but that was a familiar bed, and it felt *right* without her roommates there, but now she was here...and there was that familiar sense of *Hogwarts* around her...well. It just made her feel lost.
And now she was sitting down in her second class of the year: Transfiguration. Her hand kept straying to the pocket in her bag, fingering a small scrap of parchment there. Last period, in Potions (double with the Slytherins, as had become the norm over the years), on the way out she'd seen a tiny bit of parchment slip out of Malfoy's notebook. She'd been the last in the classroom, and had snatched it up to return it to him--what were Head Girls for, anyway?--but when she left the classroom, he was already gone. So as she sat down at her regular (though now empty) table in Professor McGonagall's classroom, she pulled the scrap from her bag and placed it on top of her book.
"Good morning, class," greeted McGonagall, striding in. "I trust you're all feeling refreshed after the summer?" There was a murmuring of various assents and dissents. "Well, we're going to be covering a great deal for your N.E.W.T. exams this year, so..."
The Professor's voice seemed to fade as Hermione began to read the paper. It was covered with lean, spiky handwriting.
~Top Ten Worst Names Ever,~ the title at the top read. Hermione creased her brow in confusion.
~10. Candy, Bambi, Sunny, Bunny, or any other disgustingly sweet name.
9. Burgis--heaven *forbid* some poor man have to respond to this name.
8. Mercedes, Chevrolet--women are not cars, contrary to popular belief.~
Hermione smiled at the paper and tried not to laugh.
7. Priscilla--because I've never really liked the nickname 'Prissy.'
6. Brett or Ralph--or any other name that sounds like someone paying homage to the _ porcelein master.
5. Fox. What woman in her right mind would give this name to a child?
4. Lew, John--yeah, naming a kid after a toilet is a great idea.
3. Adolf and Napoleon--for historical reasons. Besides, one of the nicknames for _ Napoleon is 'Nappy.'
2. Aurelie. "I love you, Aurelie." Say it aloud. That's what I thought.~
Hermione couldn't help it, she started sniggering as quietly as she could.
"Perhaps you'd like to share with the whole class what you find so amusing, Ms. Granger, because it most certainly is not the syllabus." Shocked into solemnity, Hermione grabbed the parchment that had been dropped on her table.
"Sorry, Professor."
McGonagall glared at her for a few seconds before returning to her lecture about turning oneself into things, and the danger that lay in speaking the wrong incantation.
Tucking the slip of parchment away in her bag, Hermione tried to refocus on what her teacher was saying, appalled at her own behavior. _I'll just save number one for later._
*********
It was later--next class, in fact. While Professor Binns began to speak, Hermione drew out the piece of parchment once more, scanned, chuckling quietly, down to the bottom, and reached what she was looking for.
~1. Draco Malfoy.~ There was a scratched-out comment beside it.
What?
*********
A/N--
Next chapter: Why Draco's suddenly a wallflower.
Next chapter will hopefully be up tomorrow, but there's always the possibility I might not have time (yeah, me and my lifestyle that's so busy I have time to write 3000 words of fanfiction a day, okay). 'Till then, I'm pretty happy with how this chapter came out. Intrigue, magic, angst--these are three of my favorite words right now. 'Bye!