Disclaimer: I do not own anything from jk's fabulous Harry Potter. I think that about does it.
Hey! Thanks to those who reviewed my latest chapter! Keep them coming!
Ok, now about one of the things that is going to happen in this chapter involving charms. I know that it's terribly cliché. As a matter of fact, I hate having to use this terribly cliché plotting but it all fits, okey dokay artichokie? So just bear with me.
Hehehehe this chapter was very much fun to write. Writing about Slytherins is always so much fun!
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The first thing that Draco Malfoy did the Sunday morning he woke up was curse the day. Groaning into his pillow, his usually sleek hair in a mess, the seventeen year old tugged the corners of his sheets over his head. Tomorrow was classes and he would have to face his detention soon enough. Detention with Granger, oh joy…He thought sarcastically to himself, his insides blazing. The tart had turned his hair red for Merlin's sake! No one messed with his hair, especially not a shrub head like her. It was her fault that he now would have to spend over a week's detention with that mad bat, McGonagall. She was the one to start hexing. Well that wasn't completely true since he had been the one to curse Seamus's quidditch badge. But hey, Slytherins always had privileges to be evil first without it truly counting. That was a Slytherin motto, proprietary of Draco Malfoy.
Still believing that his weekend hadn't been long enough for him to brood about the detention, he sat up in bed. Even through the effectiveness of his bed curtains, he could hear Crabbe and Goyle snoring like dragons. They were still sleeping soundly, unaware that their slave driver had awoken. Finally deciding that he would take out some of his anger out on them later, Draco got out of bed and stormed into his closet. As he picked out his clothes, he silently wondered what detention he would have to serve with that bucktoothed beaver Granger. Reorganizing the library? Grading papers? Cleaning Professor Snape's classroom? Whatever it was, he hoped that he wouldn't have to dirty up his robes doing it. That would be very unbecoming indeed.
Slipping on a black turtleneck and some dark trousers, he stalked into the loo. Brushing up his hair, a frown tugged the corners of his lips down. Snape obviously had no intention of giving him a detention that day in the potions chamber. Maybe sending a letter to his father would ratify this messy situation. Then again, what good would that do? McGonagall was headmistress at Hogwarts after all. Inwardly scowling at the bad handling of the school, he would savor the day that Dumbledore was kicked out on his old, mad arse. Once the headmaster was gone and replaced with someone of more superior line, then all that frivolous business with muggle-borns having admittance into Hogwarts would be changed. Only those, select few, with quality would be able to learn the teachings of a true wizard.
Stepping out of the loo, finally satisfied with his appearance, he leaned against the frame of the door. Taking in a deep breath, he then shouted.
"Crabbe! Goyle! Get up, you ruddy goons!" He barked, his eyebrows high. Crabbe bolted awake with a loud snort, the sudden shout making him roll off the side of his bed and crash onto the floor. Goyle, whose face was down into his pillow, whipped his head up so fast that he banged it on his headboard. Rolling his eyes with exasperation, wondering idly just how much brains cells were left in their brains now, Draco silently wondered why he was doomed with such damn wankers as his only companions. At least he didn't have a red head spint as a sidekick. That was for Potter. But still, he found it hard to believe that Weasley was a pure blood. It was embarrassing, that's what it was! Meanwhile, his two cronies continued to scurry around the room half asleep while getting dressed. Annoyed about waiting for their sorry arse's, Draco strolled out of the dormitory with long strides. The green colors of the Slytherin common room glared into his eyes as he walked down the stairs. Only a few solitary students of his house lingered about, finishing up late homework assignments that had been put to wait until the end of the weekend to do. Before he could walk down to the great hall, a voice from one of the large green couches greeted to him.
"Morning, Draco!" Pansy breathed, fluttering her eyelashes. Fighting down the groan, Draco sported his best smirk as he elegantly sat down next to her. Father always encouraged him to get close to his house girls, especially Pansy. Being a close friend to the family and a pureblood, she was one of those selected as a candidate to become his wife. The idea of being stuck with the pug-nosed girl forever always did make a shudder pass through him. But he was to continue the line of Malfoy as soon as possible. A mandatory duty, it was. But Pansy? He would rather be wed to a blast-ended skrewt. And that was saying a lot. Telling himself not to twitch as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, the girl received it enthusiastically. She put a possessive hand on his forearm, her lips curling up into a cat-like grin.
"Morning, Pansy… How are you this morning?" Draco asked, looking down at her over his pointed nose. She gazed back up at him from under heavily lidded eyes, an unmistakable hint of seduction dancing there. If she is looking for a bloody shag, then I'm sure as hell not giving it. He thought to himself.
"Oh, I'm good now, Draco darling." She replied, flashing a grin at him. Smiling weakly in return, he leaned his head back on the couch, still a bit tired from waking up that morning. A good breakfast would probably fix that, he noted while feeling a growl come from his empty stomach. A good breakfast without the sightings of a certain mudblood Gryffindor. Seeing her would no doubt make him want to wrestle her to the floor, and curse her till she begs for mercy like she had done in that rather delicious dream he had that night in the Infirmary. He had fought down any urges of hexing Granger into the next century, but ever since that Friday in the potions room, he could not hinder his thoughts from returning to those euphoric fantasies of revenge. Maybe that blasted detention would give him a chance to do just that. But then, either way it could end up with him getting suspended or beaten to a messy pulp by Potter and Weasley. Suddenly a hand was waving in his face, breaking his thoughts. Sitting up to see Pansy still staring at him, he blinked tiredly.
"Aw, is poor Draco still tired? Well why don't we go down to the great hall and have a spot of breakfast?" She asked, already pulling him off the couch and toward the portrait hole. Crabbe and Goyle then trotted down the stairs leading up from the dormitories, eagerly rushing forward to meet with them. Flashing his trademark smirk, he nodded.
"Breakfast sounds lovely," He said, the portrait swinging open. The small group of Slytherins who had been in the common room followed after them, joining behind their leader. This was how it always was. Each morning, Draco would lead his housemates down to the great hall, him in his glory at the very front. Pansy would sometimes hang onto his arm like a queen would do to her king, relishing at the attention it would bring her. His housemates were his subjects, his followers, his supporters. The seventh years walked in a small huddle just behind Draco and Pansy, the emblems of the serpent flashing distinctly on their proud chests. Behind the seventh years were the sixth years, followed by the younger years in ranks. Each cunning face bore an expression of smugness, a feature that could only be found in Slytherin. Strutting in their majesty, students of Hogwarts backed away as they passed, identical looks of disgust mingled with awe and fear on their faces. The Snake prince loved it. He and his mates could almost smell the fear rolling from the other houses as they passed. Let them be scared, he thought to himself. They should be…
As soon as Draco first stepped onto Hogwarts grounds, he knew he would be king of Slytherin house. It was inevitable. That fact alone made pleasure slink about in his stomach. Pansy had her hand tight on his forearm, sneering at girls who looked in awe at Draco. How could they not? He moved in long, powerful strides like a black cat, his cloak billowing at his feet. With his platinum blond hair a torch of white among the darkness of surrounding robes, he stood out. Attention was drawn to him like a flower on the sunlight. All heads turned when he passed, and he loved every moment of it. A smirk of superiority drawled across his pleasant features. The group of Slytherins moved as one when they neared the great hall, seemingly with a grace that Snape himself had. It seemed to fit all of them very well, for serpents were the only ones with such a dark, exotic grace. They did not talk, only whispered. They did not run, only strutted. It was a naturalness that was expected of them.
Smirks turned into glares as the group passed by a mass of Gryffindor's turning a corner on their way to the great hall as well. They halted, staring at them with mutual loathing. Yet like snakes they could smell hints of clouded awe that arose. Draco, Pansy and his followers did not stop in their stride even once to exchange words with their rival house. The Gryffindors just stood there, waiting for them to pass, eyes gazing. The prince of Slytherin caught the watchful orbs of three familiar figures, all of whom were unabashedly glaring him down. Ignoring Potter and Weasley, his gaze shifted to the girl standing in between them. She stood there, a big book hugged to her chest, her back slightly hunched. Brown met with grey in a silent communion of unfinished business. Hermione Granger watched him, not daring to blink, to breathe. Such sin danced like flame in his silver eyes that it left her breathless. A hand involuntarily came up to rest upon her chest over her quickly beating heart. Her lips parted in the sense of baffled regard that he could smell on her. All other Gryffindors drifted to the back of his mind as he walked past, his head turning very slowly to look back at her.
Time came to an abrupt halt as they gazed at each other. Draco became very aware of both everything he and she were feeling. No longer feeling Pansy on his arm, he allowed this to continue. Innocence mingled with fierce passion seemed to form an aura around her small, lithe form. The curls of bushy brown hair seemed to lift in an invisible wind, brushing along her face and out into the air, giving her a naturalness he could not place. Sweet forbiddances gave her cheeks a light, almost flustered pink. Like when a chill of winter nipped at her skin. He, Draco Malfoy was that winter chill. Letting his gaze sweep over her once, he would always remember the sight. It was in that moment he could once again feel the true power behind this image of simplicity. This girl with the large book hugged tightly and almost possessively to her chest. Looking over his shoulder at her, he merely raised his eyebrows, his lips turning up in haughty sneer. She chose that moment to tear her gaze away from him and look pointedly to the floor. Ah, victory was his… All figures rematerialized around him, including Potter and Weasley who looked fit to kill him right then and there. He could now feel Pansy holding onto his arm.
Draco twisted back around toward the entrance of the great hall and let a soft chuckle escape his mouth.
*****
"I am not looking forward to tomorrow at all…" Hermione whispered, looking to Harry and Ron who walked beside her. Ron snorted.
"Of course you're not. Who could ever look forward to more than a week's detention with Malfoy?" He replied, pulling the collar of his cloak tighter around his neck. As Christmas came ever closer, the colder it became. Hermione could see Harry shudder at the thought of a detention with the Slytherin seeker. But who could blame him? She knew exactly what would happen. She would serve detention alright, but she would most likely not live long enough to finish it. She could see that Draco was just itching to do something to her, and she had no doubts, whatsoever, that he would do it. He just needed the exact moment to get his revenge. A moment when they were alone together for a long period of time. Over a week's detention sounded like an ideal opportunity for a Slytherin like himself to do exactly that. She just wondered how she would have to suffer, and most importantly, would she make it out alive?
"Hey, at least Snape isn't the one handling the detention, Hermione." Harry reminded, trying to make light of the mood. But she simply scowled at this. She unconsciously hugged her 'Aristor's Advanced Arithmancy' tighter to her chest, her fingers turning white in anger. It didn't matter if Snape wasn't the one handling her fate. The detention would be horrible enough. With a record like hers, she could scarcely remember the last time she even had a detention.
"I know, but facing McGonagall is hard enough. She must be so disappointed with me…" She murmured, biting down on her lower lip. Ron threw Harry an exasperated look and mouthed the words 'barking mad' over her head. Obviously catching this, Hermione glared at him. He could only shrug with a sheepish expression.
"Look, it won't be that bad. Malfoy is the only thing you need to worry about. Besides, if he really does bother you, then report him to McGonagall. I guarantee you that she won't let the bloke get away with anything." Harry comforted, looking sideways at her as they made their way to the great hall. Ron was rubbing his empty stomach, looking clearly eager to tuck in to a nice, warm breakfast. But not even the promise of a hot breakfast on that cold day could heighten her mood. Stupid Malfoy, she thought to herself bitterly. He was the one who had been making her life a living hell for the past few days. Bad luck seemed to be oddly attracted to her that particular week. It seemed like an omen of even worse things to come. If that happened, she would not even hesitate when throwing herself off the highest tower of Hogwarts school.
The weekend had been very hard on her. After the color war on Friday, she had to endure hours of ill attempts at getting the green out of her hair. She had finally found a spell to remove it later that night and taught it to the rest of the seventh year Gryffindor's. Then on Saturday, she had spent the whole day finishing up all extra assignments so that she didn't have to worry about finishing because of detention. The Saturday was spent cooped up in the common room and her dormitory, Harry and Ron helping her by bringing food from the meals she did not bother to go to. That night she also could not get any sleep. Between the fear of having another nightmare, and the brooding about the trouble that she caused, it had been a most exhausting night. Not meaning too, Hermione reached up to rub her eyes tiredly. Harry glanced at her, his eyes troubled. Ron apparently noticed as well and touched her elbow.
"You still are having problems with the nightmares, Herm?" Ron asked quietly. Hermione stopped, startled for a moment. Laughing weakly, she replied.
"As a matter of fact, I didn't get much sleep. I stayed up to all hours of the night finishing my potions essay on the importance of moon pebbles administered with wolfs bane. It was actually quite an interesting-" She began, using one of her hands for emphasis. But Ron caught her shoulder and stopped her in mid sentence. His eyebrows were raised, a bored expression on his features.
"You're avoiding the question, Hermione…" He stated, somewhat dazedly. Inhaling sharply and exhaling slowly, Hermione felt her shoulders hunch. Was it that obvious that she was stressed out? Silently, she cursed Malfoy yet again. This was his entire fault. Unaware of the fact that Harry was steering her to the great hall, her brain feeling way to numb to fathom, she let him. Ron seemed to still be waiting for a reply however. Fighting down the urge to run away and back up to Gryffindor tower and hide under her blankets, she answered finally.
"Well, I was scared of having a nightmare again so I really didn't get the chance to do much sleeping…" She explained, wringing her hands nervously. Students passed by unnoticed to her as she kept her eyes locked down on the floor. She just did not have the energy to keep lying at the time. Besides, what's the good in keeping secrets from Harry and Ron, her best friends. Ron, who was still holding her arm, slowly tightened his fingers with worry. Hermione froze, her eyes wide as he did this. An image flashed before her, unkept, unfazed. A silver haired dark lord, determined to look in her eyes while his spidery hand held her arm, his fingers tightening around her vein. His fingers grew tighter and tighter, her arm and hand turning an unearthly, raging purple that made her scream in pain. As fast as the image came, it was gone. Wrenching her arm away from Ron, she held it to her chest protectively. She had dropped her book in the process, the sound of its contact with the floor startling a few Gryffindor's who walked with them to the great hall. Rubbing her hand that was starting to ache from remembrance, she looked away. Ron, who looked scared, seemed to be frightened of touching her again. Harry, however, grabbed her shoulder and turned her to him.
"What's wrong? Why are you acting like Ron just hurt you?" He asked, his brows furrowing. Hermione looked up at Harry and then to Ron who had a mask of hurt on his face. Guilt flooded over her. Letting out a sigh, she reached out and took his hand.
"I'm so sorry, Ron. It wasn't you. The way you were holding my arm just reminded me of something that happened in my nightmare. I was a bit lost, sorry…" She whispered. Harry visibly loosened with relief, rubbing a hand through his untidy hair, messing it up even more. Ron nodded, though he still had question in his eyes. He most likely wanted to know who had been the one to be holding her arm in the dream. Picking up her book, the red head handed it to her. The trio smiled comfortingly at each other, then continued to walk down the corridor toward the great hall. Hermione now walked in between Harry and Ron, who had sandwiched her as if giving a form of protection as they treaded. There were a few moments of a silence before Ron spoke again.
"Hey, Hermione, just out of curiosity," He began, walking sideways so that he could look at her. "Did your dream have to do with Malfoy?..." Ron asked, one of his eyebrows raised. Almost tripping over the bottom hem of her robes in surprise at the Slytherins mention, she pretended to be fascinated with the ceiling so that they wouldn't see the flood of color rush to her cheeks. Of course, this tactic didn't work as well as she hoped because she knew both boys were able to read her like a book. Apparently the truth was written all over her face because Ron suddenly scowled and clenched a fist. Harry straightened his shoulders, his lips pursing. Well, it was no secret anymore, not really. The only thing she now kept in the dark was the things Malfoy in fact did to her. Blushing awkwardly, she looked straight ahead.
"Speak of the devil… Literally…" Harry mumbled, stopping them. All the Gryffindors halted on the corner they were turning when a large group of Slytherins floated down the corridor. Hermione's mouth tightened into a straight line as she spotted the familiar flash of silver hair at the head of the massive group. In a sea of black cloaks, he stood out. Of course it was not just his strange hair that made him stand out like a butterfly among caterpillar. It was his way of moving, his power among his house. He always was at the very front of the group. He was the king and prince among his subjects. Pansy was obviously his queen at the moment, her hand possessive on his forearm. Draco's confidant demeanor did not subject his feelings to be having any discomfort at the pug-nosed girl. Meanwhile, the house of the serpent moved as one, in long smooth strides that made her pulse unconsciously quicken. Seemingly they moved in slow motion, crowds of students backing away as they passed, all too much intimidated by these particular folk. The Gryffindors could not help but stop and stare as their arch rivals drew closer. Hermione felt everyone around her vanish as the Slytherins passed. No longer feeling Harry and Ron, the only thing she became aware of was the one, unmistakable boy. He was unquestioningly prominent, and this greatly startled her.
The Slytherins sneered at all who came into their path, distain mixing with the smirks that lurked on their smug faces. Their cloaks billowed out at their feet as they strutted in an almost twisted unison. They did not even acknowledge the Gryffindors as they passed, almost as if they were good for them. Hugging her Arithmancy book tighter to her chest, she dared not breathe as her eyes met with his. Not once did he falter in his walking like she would no doubt do. His head slowly turned back over his shoulder to look her down, freezing her to the floor. She could not explain the feelings of fear and awe that arose from within her, nor did she want to fathom them. Only aware of him, so could see and feel everything they were experiencing. So pale was his cheeks, that they glowed in the light. His eyes, as grey as the stone floor beneath their feet. Yet they held a sinful flame that made Hermione put a hand over her chest. Her heart was threatening to jump out of her rib cage, it was beating so quickly. The bushy haired prefect could feel her soul almost twitch as he did not turn away. Distantly, she found that she could no longer turn away as well.
The spell, however, was broken at the look he gave her. Her gaze plummeted to the floor, no longer having the inner strength to. A very much haughty expression of victory bloomed to life on his distinct features, having won their silent battle of the wits. Merely raising his eyebrows as her, he turned away and laughed to himself. He actually laughed at her! All students around her rematerialized as she was brought back to reality.
"Look at them… The whole lot thinks they're better than us…" Ron glared, crossing his arms as he scowled at the back of Malfoy's head. Harry only nodded, the two boys not aware of the turmoil that Hermione was fighting secretly. Her bushy hair seemed to frizzle even more at the hot sparks of anger that threaded through her body. How dare him! Well, she would show him. She would not give that power over her to Malfoy. Come the starting of their detention, she would prove her strength to him. Oh, and she would make sure he remember it too. Before she could stop herself, fowl words escaped her mouth.
"Smug Bastard… I'll show him…" She whispered. Having caught attention of Harry and Ron, they turned to look at her with wide eyes.
"Blimey, Hermione. I thought you of all people didn't approve of bad language…" Ron said, a smirk on his lips. Hermione only turned her nose up in the air, and walked ahead toward the great hall. Harry bit back the grin spreading across his face as he ran to catch up with her. Ron was left standing there, a flabbergasted expression upon his blank features. Inwardly scratching his head in bafflement, he went to follow his two friends.
*****
Hermione scolded Harry and Ron the next morning in the corridors outside their charms classroom. The trio had just been outside, having to cross over the usually green lawns from Herbology to get back into the castle. Problem was, there had been a blizzard the night before and was still snowing outside. It was Monday and to add to her already bad mood, it continued to snow heavily. Harry and Ron were now nosily stamping their feet all along the corridor, attempting to get the snow off their shoes and all over the floor before they entered Charms. Admonishing that getting snow everywhere would result in someone slipping and hurting themselves, her words were only proved true when Neville walked by and his feet flew out from under him. Harry and Ron had managed to catch their house mate before he could crash to the floor and spill his books everywhere.
"Now you see? Neville could have really gotten hurt!" She scolded, hands on her hips. Neville was blushing bright red, telling her that it was alright, but she continued on another fit and stalked into the classroom. The three boys exchanged pointed looks, Ron whispering "She's gone completely mad! All morning she's been like this." He said to Neville, Harry nodding his head. Knowing that her anger was because of the detention she would start later that night, they agreed that it would be best if they didn't bother her. Unless of course they wanted to be at the receiving end of her wand, which no doubt they didn't. Small Professor Flitwick was standing up on his desk, a pleasant smile on his features. Hermione plopped moodily down in her seat and then crossed her arms over her stomach. She had a most gloomy morning and couldn't wait for the day to be over which surprised herself to no end.
It was then that she blinked and noticed many seats in the classroom were empty. Twisting around in her seat, she noted that all the Gryffindors were there but the Ravenclaw students that they shared Charms class with were not there. Many of her fellow students were glancing around as well, wondering where the rest of the class was. All attention turned toward the professor when he clapped his small hands together for silence.
"Hello, class! I do hope you all had a pleasant weekend," He said. Hermione could not help but snort under her breath when that was said. She quickly covered her mouth in horror though when the professor gave her a smile with a raised, questionable eyebrow.
"I can tell that you are pondering the disappearance of Ravenclaw house. I am also quite aware of what took place down in the dungeons during your potions class." He said, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. Hermione gulped and slid lower in her seat as her house mates threw her smirks of satisfaction. Even after the weekend, all of Gryffindor held her in high esteem about what she did to Malfoy when he hexed Seamus that Friday afternoon.
"The headmaster has informed me that after that particular show of house rivalry, we deem it important to remedy the situation. So, to improve Hogwarts house unity, let me welcome your new classmates!" Flitwick exclaimed, and with a wave of his wand, the door burst open to reveal a group of students. All of the Gryffindor's eyes went wide in horror as the dark group paraded in, the emblems of the serpent flashing on their chests. Yells and grumbles of indignation erupted, but the Professor merely smiled, instructing the Slytherins to sit down at their new seats. They, like the Gryffindors did not look all too happy to be there, their trademark smirks gone and replaced with angry frowns. The rival houses glared infuriatingly at each other, another silent war passing between exchanged gazes. Hermione put a hand over her eyes, asking what she had done to deserve that fate. As if Potions wasn't bad enough, they now had to deal with the Slytherins in Charms. Oh yes, the day had just gotten worse a whole lot more. Glancing around, she saw that Ron had his face down in his arms to cover the muffled curses coming from his mouth. Harry had an almost pained expression of annoyance on his features, while he unconsciously rubbed his lightening-bolt scar.
How was house unity supposed to be achieved by these means?... What was Albus Dumbledore thinking?...
"Welcome Slytherin, I do believe these means of house unity will be most viable." Flitwick spoke with welcoming. The statement only made them hiss and seethe in dissatisfactory. Hermione turned her gaze away from them, determined not to look at the certain boy with silver hair that was sitting on other side of the room, looking quite displeased as well.
"Now, let us get started, shall we? Today as the Gryffindor's know, I was to explain the task project. The task project will be mandatory and imperative for your final grade. Very important, this task will be." All attention perked at his words. Momentarily forgetting about the hate that bordered between Gryffindor and Slytherin, all students gave their undivided diligence. Professor Flitwick summoned a book from one of his bookcases and then jumped off his desk to walk between desks and talk aloud.
"Your task, students, will be to create a charm, a spell," Seeing the apparent expressions of astonishment on his student's faces, he continued. "You are to create a spell that you believe would be a help to the wizarding world. Under special Ministry orders, these spells will remain unregistered. So, once graduating Hogwarts, the spells would be unusable and disarmed. This task is merely a test to prove your own strength in both magic and charms." He explained. A loud groan came from Neville, who looked miserable. Harry, another person whose strengths did not lie in charms shared the disappointment. Hermione, however, was nearly bursting at the schemes with excitement. Imagine! She could create her own spell! A spell that could really help wizard kind, even though the spells would be unfeasible after the task was over. Fantasies of getting her own special spell approved by the Ministry of magic and written down in spell books floated to her mind. With her chin propped up by her hand, a happy sigh whispered from her lips.
"Now, creating a spell will take weeks after weeks of hard training with charm structuring, specific outlines and procedures. Since this task is very difficult indeed, you will be working with partners. I will choose them for you." At this new revelation, the excitement drained from Hermione and was replaced by a sinking feeling of dread. Partners?! This was something that she wanted to work on alone, if not, then Ron or Harry. But now that the Ravenclaws were replaced with the Slytherins, what if she was partnered up with one of them? What if she had to work with Millicent Bullstrode? Or Pansy Parkinson? Or worse of all, what of she had to work with Malfoy?... Shuddering at the thought, Hermione folded her hands tightly in her lap and waited for the professor to speak again.
"I believe in fairness so I will deposit a charms exam to you that will prove your ability on the subject. Then, breaking up the grades by groups of rank, other words, I will be making a group out of the best scoring grades and so on and so on…" He explained, every student hanging on his words.
"Writing down the names of each student, I will place them in those hats over there, according to your grades on the exam. Then, students will be limited to choosing a partner so that each one of you will be working with someone of the same charms level." Pointing to a row of wizarding hats sitting on his desk, with a flick of his wand, they began to bounce up and down. Complete silence ran through the room, each person wondering who they were doomed to be partnered up with. Hermione could not help but turn around in her seat to exchange worried glances with Harry and Ron. It was obvious that she would not be working with them. She was no doubt on the highest level of charms, with their grades being only average. Whoever she would be partnered with, she just hoped that it was with another Gryffindor. Waiting as Professor Flitwick floated sheets of parchment to everyone; her hand went to pick up her quill. Her eyes ran briefly over the exam sitting in front of her. This was the test that would place her fate in the project. The level in how she did on the test would place her with those who shared the same grades.
"Begin the exam…… now!" He squeaked, turning over his large hourglass.
Hermione did not waste any time. Her quill was already writing furiously across her parchment, her brows furrowed with concentration. The sound of scratching quills around the classroom matched her own. Excitement began to bubble in her stomach once more. Question after Question, she knew them all. It was only a few minutes later that she slammed her quill down on the desk with a silent exclamation of triumph. Professor Flitwick looked up from the hour glass to see her sitting there done and beamed at her.
"Well done, Ms. Granger," He whispered with a smile on his old features. Hermione bit down on the satisfied smile curling on her lips and nodded her head with thanks. But the smile suddenly turned down in a frown when the professor looked across the room and grinned as well before whispering "You as well, Mr. Malfoy…" Hermione's eyes narrowed as she looked across the classroom of testing students to see Draco leaning back in his seat, arms crossed smugly. The worst part was that he was staring at her, a Cheshire cat smirk on his virile features. 'Ha! You're not the only one who knows their charms well, mudblood' his expression said to her. His expensive eagle quill was sitting elegantly atop a finished exam. He must have finished only a few seconds after she did. She scowled openly at him, causing him to sneer odiously. They did this for another few moments, Hermione not backing down. She would not look away from him this time.
It was a whole while later and a whole lot of glaring passed before Flitwick told students to put their quills down. Summoning all parchment into a pile, he cast a spell that would automatically start grading each exam. The students watched anxiously as each parchment separated into a different pile in front of each hat. After a few minutes, all the exams were graded and separated. Flitwick went to each pile and quietly began scrawling names on tiny strips of paper, and then dropping them into a hat. This process seemed to take a whole lot longer then it really was as Hermione continuously clenched her fists closed.
"When I call your name, you will stand in front of the hat which matches your charms level. Hat number one with be for fourth level charms. Hat number two will be for third level charms, third hat for second level, and the fourth hat will be for one level charms. One level charms is the most intelligent rank and then so on and so on. If placed in fourth level charms do not be discouraged or attain the belief that you are inadequate in charms. Now, to begin…. Pansy Parkinson! Hat three!" He called. Pansy got up from her seat, wagging her hips as she went. She arched a suggestive eyebrow as she went past Draco's desk. He only smiled gleefully at her, hiding the disgust behind his eyes. After she was standing in back of Hat three, Flitwick continued.
"Dean Thomas! Hat two!"
"Blaise Zabini! Hat two!"
"Seamus Finnigan! Hat three!"
"Harry Potter!" Hermione leaned forward as she waited to hear what hat he was assigned to. "Hat three!" Harry got up from his desk with a dazed expression on his face, clearly surprised he got hat three at all. Seamus slapped him on the back when he got there.
"Millicent Bulstrode! Hat four!"
"Vincent Crabbe! Hat one!" Draco snorted in disgust.
"Gregory Goyle! Hat one!"
"Ronald Weasley Hat three!" Ron got up with a sigh of relief before going over to join Harry and Seamus.
"Neville Longbottom! Hat two!" Neville sighed, his back hunched as went to join a sympathetic Dean. Hermione's heart went out to the boy.
"Draco Malfoy!" Hermione's ear perked, and her fingers gripped the desk tightly. "Hat four!" Silently screaming with desperation, she watched as he swaggered over to the highest rank hat and stood behind Millicent. She was going to be in Hat four. Malfoy was already one of the candidates that she might have to be partnered up with. Biting down so hard on her lip that she tasted copper, she awaited her name.
"Hermione Granger! Hat four!" Scrambling up, she quickly went to join Draco and Millicent. Harry and Ron gave her thumbs up signs at making the highest rank, though it clearly was no surprise.
"Lavender Brown! Hat two!"
"Parvati Patil! Hat two!"
"Morag Mcdougal! Hat four!" Hermione's mind drifted away from the sorting, and her eyes went to the hat. Her name was somewhere in there. Mixed with more names, waiting to be partnered together. Closing her eyes for a moment, she pushed down the feeling of trepidation that bubbled nervously in her stomach. She suddenly felt sick. Feeling her lunch wanting to come up, she took in a few shaky breaths as Flitwick finished name calling. Draco, apparently hearing her slight hyperventilation, turned around to leer at her.
"Scared, Granger?..." He asked, lips curling uncannily like Professor Snape's. Hermione narrowed her eyes dangerously.
"No, are you?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. He simply brought a hand to his face and breathed across his nails. How arrogant, she thought to herself idly with disgust.
"Me? Scared? As, if…" Wrinkling her nose at him, she turned her attention back to their charms professor.
"The first students standing in front of the hat, if you will, please take out a name." He instructed. Transfixed, Hermione watched as Millicent Bulstrode plucked her large, masculine hand into the bouncing wizard hat and then took a slip of parchment out. Please pick Malfoy, she pleaded to Millicent in her mind. Millicent opened the slip of parchment and then turned toward the people behind her. Hermione's fingers wrung at the folds of her school robes, hope gathering in her heart. Maybe she wouldn't get stuck with Malfoy. Any Slytherin was better then him anyway. Most Slytherins really didn't take their time to make someone's life miserable unless a person really provoked them. Unlike Malfoy, who did it on a daily basis without the slightest bit of provocation. Even now as she waited behind the very person whom her thoughts went to, she could not help but feel some hope that they would not be partnered. But, like glass, it was shattered in only moments.
"Morag, you're my partner…" She said, walking past Malfoy and Hermione. Scuffing her foot at the floor with anger, Hermione glared at Malfoy when he laughed at her. Taking in deep breaths, she turned to look at the other groups. Seamus was lucky to be partnered with Harry. Neville was partnered with Dean. That was good, because then the boy wouldn't have to worry about some Slytherin breathing down his neck. Ron was partnered with Blaise Zabini, who did not look very happy at all. After Millicent walked back to her desk, pulling Morag with her, Draco stepped up to the hat. Let him pick someone else, she silently pleaded. Not even looking at the hat, his eyes captured hers. Feeling her breath quicken again in surprise, she gazed back. Not once did he blink at her as his hand delved into the bouncing hat. This was a moment of truth… The Slytherin prince did not break eye contact once as he opened the slip of parchment he had pulled out. He took once glance at the paper before turning it around to show her who his partner was.
'Hermione Granger'
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A/N: muhahahaha… yes, I am indeed evil to leave a cliffhanger like such! And yes, I do know that I have just used what might be the most clichéd plot line in draco/Hermione shipper of all time. But I promise you, its for good use. Everything that happens, does happen for a reason so don't loose intertest now! I try to not use so cliché plots, ill do my best.
Now be a dear for little ol' me and take a little visit to that purple button down there. You see it? Yup, its that one down there. If u click on that, then I shall love u muhahahahaha.
