Draco Malfoy
*~*~*~*~*~*~
"My world it moves so fast today
The past it seems so far away
And life squeezes so tight that I can't breath
Everytime I tried to be what someone else thought of me
So caught up I was unable to achieve
But deep in my heart
The answer
It was in me
And I've made up my mind
To do define my own destiny"
'The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill' Lauryn Hill
*~*~*~*~*~*~
Draco inhaled the fresh air of a crisp June day. He sat by the large lake that rested on the grounds of the Malfoy estate. He enjoyed his newfound sense of freedom; he had been alone in the Manor for two days now, while his parents went vacationing in South America. He had been by the lake all afternoon. Draco looked off into the horizon at the setting sun, and marveled at the beauty of the sunset. The bright oranges, vibrant reds, and deep shades of blue and violet all blended. Draco smiled to himself, while grabbing a handful of grass into his fists.
"Malfoy!" he heard a voice call. At first Draco assumed he had imagined the voice, and continued to pull up large plots of grass.
"Malfoy!" the voice called again. Draco could hear the voice grow clearer as the owner approached the lake. Draco, recognizing the voice, ignored the call and continued to stare off into the sunset.
"Hey there Malfoy!" Draco felt a sharp slap unto his back. Draco stood up and brushed off his slacks.
"Blaise." He said dully. Draco did not even know why the hell he was friends with someone as shallow as Blaise Zabini, but his father encouraged him to socialize with his fellow housemates who had well-to-do pureblood families.
"What the fuck are you doing out here?" Blaise asked. Draco continued to stare off into the sunset.
"Let me guess, your watching the sunset?" Blaise snorted loudly, "Your growing into a bigger puss each day." Blaise snorted again, running a hand through is dark chestnut brown hair.
"Shut the fuck up Zabini." Draco scowled.
"How'd the hell you'd get into my house?" Draco asked, upset at himself for forgetting to tell the house elves to not let anyone into the Manor.
"House elf let us in." Blaise said nonchalantly. He put a hand around Draco's shoulder as they began to walk back towards to the Manor.
"Us?" Draco asked, his hand buried in his pockets, and his eyes glued to his feet.
"Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle." Blaise replied gleefully. Draco stopped in his tracks.
"You brought the whole fucking crew didn't you Blaise?" Draco snapped grouchily. Blaise flashed him a goofy smile and continued to stroll towards the Manor that was now only several meters away.
"Ok, what the hell are you four up to?" Draco asked slightly perturbed. He had plans for this weekend. To sit at home, pig out on cakes and candies, go to Diagon Alley, and other various activities to keep his mind off Hermione, who still had not replied to his letters. The amount of letters Draco had written was now up to twenty-three.
"Ok! Draco! Before you say no, hear me out. There is this club in London."
"No." Draco said vaguely. They reached the rear sliding doors of the Manor leading into the kitchen.
"You didn't hear me out." Blaise said sharply.
"You weren't bloody invited." Draco retorted walking casually through the kitchen and into the family room where Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle sat. Pansy was sitting on a white leather love seat, twirling a strand of bright red hair.
"What the hell, Pansy?" Draco asked surprised, he thought she looked like a two-dollar whore from Paris.
"Oh Draco! I died my hair! You like?" she asked, pulling on one of the curly red tendrils.
"It's uh… different." Draco lied. He always pitied Pansy, even though she bothered the hell out of him.
"Crabbe. Goyle." Draco said smugly. Crabbe gave Draco a small waved and returned to juggling one of Narcissa Malfoy's useless paperweights from hand to hand. Goyle sat on the couch next to Pansy looking rather smug; he gave Draco a peculiar look before quickly looking down at the floor again. Draco noticed that the four were all dressed exceptionally…strange that is. Blaise was wearing a bright red silk shirt and baggy blue jeans. Crabbe and Goyle were wearing blue jeans also, and vests. Pansy was decked out into a skintight red halter-top, a faux leather mini-skirt, and fishnet stockings.
"Don't mind me asking but… What the fuck are you lot wearing?" Draco asked. He strolled over to Crabbe and snatched the paperweight from his hand.
"This is expensive." He muttered softly, placing it back in its respective place. Crabbe looked down dismally before taking a seat on the other side of Pansy.
"Well! If you had been listening Draco, and hadn't of cut me off, you would know why we look fucking ridiculous." Blaise replied sharply.
"I… have gotten us lot into an underground club." Blaise stated matter of factly. He plopped down into a leather recliner. He propped his feat onto the coffee table.
"Why would you want to go to a club? Aren't those Muggle places?" Draco asked. Draco noticed where Blaise's feet where and cleared his throat loudly. Blaise groaned and put his feet back on the floor. Draco slowly sat down in a chair nearest the hallway.
"Draco why would WE want to go to a Muggle place?" Pansy said slowly, in her normal high-pitched voice.
"Well…I was in Diagon Alley, minding my business, and I run into this girl. She looked really familiar right?" Blaise leaned forward waiting for someone to respond. When he realized no one was going to say 'right.', he continued.
"Well I spent some quality time with her during 4th year!" Blaise lifts his hands in exasperation. Draco rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair.
"Go on you bloody prat." Draco said listlessly. Blaise scowled at Draco before continuing his story.
"Anyway… I asked her if she remembered me. And she was like." Blaise raises his voice and dons a ghastly French accent "Oh yeess! Ve vent to ze Yule Ball at ze Hogwartz togethers." Blaise dropped his voice to his normal tone. "You know my Beauxbatons broad from Fourth year. Anyway. We caught up and she mentioned that she was on a trip with her friends from Beauxbatons for the summer, and she asked me if I knew some younger people and maybe we could meet up at this club. She told me it was coolest club around and it's all witches and wizards. No Muggles!" Blaise exclaimed. He smiled and nodded. "Eh?"
Draco, who had closed his eyes during the story, opened them hesitantly. Much to his disappointment, his 'friends' were still seated in his den.
"Blaise did you realize we're underage?" Draco asked matter of factly.
"Wow! He's right Blaise! We're only 16! How can we get in?" Pansy asked quizzically. Blaise rolled his eyes. Crabbe and Goyle sat there perplexedly.
" D! Were you or were you not paying attention to my story mate?" Blaise asked; calling Draco by a nickname Draco loathed with an intense passion. Draco did not reply, he only glared at Blaise in annoyance and frustration.
"Draco! Triwizard Tournament, 4th year? She was a 7th year. Do the math Einstein! She's legal!" Blaise exclaimed.
"Look it is all taken care off Draco. You'll come with us, we'll meet up with Bianca, she'll probably have a few gorgy friends, French girls may I add, you'll dance have fun, you'll get that stick out of your ass, and you'll be back by 6. All you have to do is say… YES."
"But Blaise! There won't be any gorgy friends for me!" Pansy whined.
Draco sighed. He weighed his options silently in his head, he could sit at home and be miserable, or he could go out, have a butterbeer, and maybe stop thinking about Hermione for just one night.
"I'm in." Draco muttered.
"This will be a long fucking night." Draco muttered softly to himself, and oh was he right.
Hermione Granger
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"7 AM
The garbage truck beeps as it backs up
And I stop my day thinking about what I've thrown away
Could I push rewind?
Oh, the credits traverse
Signifying the end
But I missed the best part
Can we please go back to start?
Forgive my indecision
Then again
Then again
Your always first when no one's on your side
But then again
Then again
Then again
The day will come when I want out that route
…
I never knew I could want someone so much
Because now your not here
And I need you to numb the fear,"
'11 AM' Incubus
Hermione ran her hand over the sloppy bun that sat on the back of her head. She was standing in Flourish & Blotts quietly contemplating on which new edition of Hogwarts: A History.
"Oh come on Hermione, hurry up, I want to go into the Quidditch shop to see the new Nimbus'." Ron Weasley, Hermione's best friend, grumbled from behind her. Hermione lifted her hand up, not even bothering to sush him.
"Hermione?" he asked again. Hermione bent down, she looked past the editions of Hogwarts: A History, and saw a tall blonde haired guy, who seemed to be in his late teens, listening to headphones and staring blankly at the racks upon racks of magically textbooks. This perplexed Hermione; this person looked like a Muggle. Why would a Muggle be in Flourish and Blotts, alone, in the middle of June? Hermione thought to herself.
"Ron, how about you go, and I'll meet up with you later." She mumbled, not taking her eyes off the blonde, who was know singing softly to himself. His voice had a slow sexy drawl to it that made Hermione shiver. Ron placed his hand on Hermione's shoulder snapping out of her fascination.
"Forty five minutes from now, in front of Olivanders?" he asked. Hermione smiled at the red head and nodded.
"Yeah." She said softly. Ron smiled and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Hermione smiled as she watched her friend leave the store. At times she felt that Ron had realized the changes she had been going through at Hogwarts, he treated her more compassionately, and thought of her feelings more than he had ever had before. Hermione's eyes snapped right back to the man who appeared to be a Muggle. He had made his way into her aisle and appeared to be walking her way. Hermione suddenly felt self conscious, realizing she was in her Muggle clothes.
"Excuse me." He said in a heavy Australian accent. Hermione felt her face flush when she realized he had been standing in front of the rack he had apparently trying to get to.
"I'm sorry." Hermione mumbled self consciously, stepping quickly out of his way. He flashed her a smile before picking up a copy of Hogwarts: A History. Hermione pretended to be looking at a very thick book full titled Magical Cures to the Common Cold. She glanced quickly at the load of books he carried in his left arm. They all appeared to be textbooks she had used from all previous years at Hogwarts.
"5th year Potions?" she asked aloud. The man looked up at her, giving her a strange look. Hermione's heart caught in her throat when she realized his eyes were familiar. His eyes were that familiar piercing shade of gray.
"Uh- your textbook." Hermione said unsteadily. The person looked down at the books in his hands, 5th year Potions, on top.
"Oh yeah! I'm transferring to Hogwarts this year. I'm behind, I've never really been to a wizarding school since I was in 3rd year." He explained brightly. Hermione's heart was now beating in her ears.
"I.. I…"Hermione stammered.
"Go to Hogwarts?" he asked. Hermione's face flushed in embarrassment.
"Yeah." She mumbled softly. The person looked at her and smiled. Hermione started at him intuitively. He is the most Muggle looking wizard I have ever seen. She thought to herself. The person had a mop of dark blonde hair, a lip ring, an eyebrow piercing, a tongue ring, and more than five piercing in each of his ears. He was dressed as if he had just rolled out of bed in a baggy sweatshirt, and baggy pants. He was still wearing the headphones Hermione first saw him listening to while Ron was still in the store. Hermione bit her lip hesitantly; it would be rude to ask him if he was Muggle-Born.
"Sam. Sam Austin." He said flashing her a mischievous smile; he stuck out his strong hand.
"I'm Hermione Granger." Hermione smiled and took his hand. His grip was strong, and his smile was wide.
"So you go to Hogwarts?" he asked. He grabbed a copy of Hogwarts a history and began his way down the store aisle. Hermione followed.
"Yeah." Hermione replied. Usually she could talk a mile a minute, but strangely she couldn't find anything to say to this strange boy.
"What year are you in?" Sam asked kindly.
"I'm going into my 6th year." Hermione replied. They reached the counter, and Sam began to stack his textbooks upon it. Madam Renaldi stared at Sam suspiciously for a moment before beginning to count his textbooks.
"Now if that wasn't a coincidence." He said brightly, ignoring the old witches' weary looks. He reached into his deep pockets and pulled out a pouch full to the brim with galleons.
"I should be in 6th year. My father had to pull a little strings with Dumbledore before he let me into Hogwarts, apparently I have a reputation."
" A reputation?" Hermione asked curiously. Madam Renaldi was still counting the books.
"Well… my dad works as an auror in Australia. He never really forced me to go to school down there, because he felt the concepts that are taught in wizarding schools mean nothing when you get out into the real wizarding world. So he pulled me out in 3rd year and I went to a Muggle school for two years." Sam explained. Hermione was surprised; this boy did indeed come from a magical family.
"So why are you going to Hogwarts. Why now?" Hermione asked curiously.
"Six hundred and fifty two galleons." Madame Renaldi said sharply. Sam grabbed a handful of galleons and tossed them onto the counter.
"My dad realized putting me in a Muggle environment was a big mistake. There was an uprising in the Australian Ministry of Magic. They kicked out all of the Muggle-born officials out of the Ministry. And the new officials, Purists, they call themselves; found out that my dad had been sending me to a Muggle school. They found this a threat to security, so my dad decided to send me out of the country. He decided me to send me to where he went to school. To Hogwarts." Sam finished his story, his attractive smile still spread across his face. Hermione was surprised when she felt herself smiling.
"Are you alone up here in Britain?" Hermione asked inquisitively.
"Keep the change." Sam smiled to Madam Renaldi as he grabbed his books and began to walk to the door of the shop.
"Yep. The old man left just last week." Sam commented as they stepped out in to the warm June air.
"So where are you living?" Hermione asked, quickly glancing at her watch; in fifteen minutes she would have to meet up with Ron.
" A small place in London. It's only temporary, until I start school. Where do you live?" Sam replied.
"London." Hermione smiled brightly.
"Well! Now if that wasn't a coincidence Hermione Granger. Maybe we should hang out sometime." Sam laughed. Hermione nodded, and for the first time since the beginning of the summer holiday, she felt at ease.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
That was part one. Sorry if I was making Sam Austin come off as Draco for a second. I didn't realize I was writing it like that until I had finished. Doh!
You know the deal if you like it, review, if you hated it, review. I love feedback!
~Alisha~
