My Favorite Accident
Disclaimer: The song "My Favorite Accident" belongs to Motion City Soundtrack and Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Chapter 1: I got the message long before you said you knew
Hermione sat in the common room with Ron and Harry, as usual, doing her schoolwork.
"Come on Hermione," Ron said. "Just give me the answers. I really need to do good on this paper."
"No, Ron," Hermione said firmly. "You shouldn't even ask. You know what the answer is going to be, anyways. And also, it's 'I really need to do well on this paper.' Not 'I really need to do good.'"
"Hermione, I don't need English lessons, I need the answers to our Transfiguration homework," Ron whined. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Please, please, please, please, please?"
"No," she said picking up her things. "I'm going to go to the Prefect common room to let you guys get to work, alright?" She looked at Harry who was gazing out of the window.
"Fine," Ron said stubbornly.
Hermione walked out thinking of Harry. He had been so distant lately. Not like it was new, he had been like that ever since Sirius died about a year and a half ago. Well, at least he's studying hard, she thought. She walked into the Prefect common room. There was one person there. Just a blond haired boy. She sat one table away from him.
She laid her stuff down and got to work. She was concentrating so hard that she hadn't heard the boy clear his throat. She almost fell off her chair, after he threw a folded piece of paper at her. She unfolded it.
Hey bookworm can I copy the homework? It read.
She looked up. How couldn't she have noticed that it was Draco Malfoy sitting there? He raised his eyebrows giving her a look that made her sink to her shoes. She nodded and he brought his stuff over next to her. She swallowed hard. Keep cool, Hermione, she thought.
"How come you're in here and not your own common room?" Hermione asked him.
"Pansy. She gets a bit annoying after a while. How come you're not in yours?"
"Oh, Ron kept wanting to copy my work," she said.
"Wow," he said looking at her paper. "You have neat writing."
"Er..." she said confused, "thanks?"
He laughed. "How do you study so much?"
"What do you mean how?" she asked.
"Like every time I try to study I get distracted," he said.
"I don't know. I just concentrate. I guess it's easier said than done."
He laughed again. He started getting friendlier with her, talking more abut his life. He was in the middle of a sentence when Hermione blurted out, "Why are you being so nice to me?"
He looked puzzled and then laughed. "Oh you mean how come I am not saying 'Get away from Mudblood'?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know. Nobody here to impress, I guess."
"Impress?" she asked. Was he just a joke?
"Yeah, I mean, ever since me and Potter got into that fight on the first day we were at Hogwarts, I guess everyone thinks that we have to be arch enemies and that I can't say anything nice about his friends or anyone."
"Oh. But how does that 'impress' someone?"
"Okay, I guess it's not a matter of impressing people, but it's more of pleasing people. Like my father, for instance. If he heard I was talking nice to a Gryffindor he would go nuts. And don't get me even started on what he would do if I was talking nice to a Muggle born."
"How would he find out, though?"
"Obviously you do not know anything about my father," Draco said jokingly. "He has spies everywhere. Don't tell anyone this," he said his voice changing to a more serious tone, "but I kind of wish my father was sent to Azkaban. Actually I don't wish he was in Azkaban." His voice lowered, "I wish he was dead."
"How can you say that?" Hermione said, shocked. "How can you say that, especially about your family?"
"Hermione don't even get me started. My family is the most unstable family, I swear, you will ever meet. You don't even know half of the horrible things about my father, but if you did, you'd know what I mean."
After that night was over, Hermione felt differently about Draco. He seemed more level-headed than what she had remembered of him.
3
Late night talks between Draco and Hermione started becoming a routine. They talked about everything. Teachers, Quidditch, classmates, everything.
"How come Hermione has been going to the Prefect common room so much lately. What's in their, that's not here?" Ron asked, after Hermione told them she would, yet again, not be returning to the common room with them after dinner.
Harry shrugged, sensing the jealousy in Ron's voice. "I don't see why it matters. She's just probably tired of you asking to copy, you know?"
Ron just rolled his eyes at Harry. "I don't think so. You know what we have to do? We have to wait up for Hermione to come back."
Harry shook his head, at his best friend's stupidity. Ron had the password to the common room, so he could go and see if she was really doing her homework. But Harry didn't tell Ron this. If she wasn't doing homework, Hermione deserved some privacy.
3
"I don't really understand that game," Hermione said one night. "I mean it's just full of violence."
"Well there's more to it than that. Here let's play a game," Draco went to another table and grabbed a chess set and began to teach Hermione. She wasn't listening, she was just watching Draco. In the middle of the explanation, he looked up and realized she wasn't paying attention. "And... when the... the king is..." he was staring at her. His mind was clouded. She was suddenly looking more and more pretty. "When the... king is cornered... then... then that means... check—" Hermione leaned in towards Draco and soon there was no space between them.
Author's Note: Please review if you have any advice!
Disclaimer: The song "My Favorite Accident" belongs to Motion City Soundtrack and Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Chapter 1: I got the message long before you said you knew
Hermione sat in the common room with Ron and Harry, as usual, doing her schoolwork.
"Come on Hermione," Ron said. "Just give me the answers. I really need to do good on this paper."
"No, Ron," Hermione said firmly. "You shouldn't even ask. You know what the answer is going to be, anyways. And also, it's 'I really need to do well on this paper.' Not 'I really need to do good.'"
"Hermione, I don't need English lessons, I need the answers to our Transfiguration homework," Ron whined. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Please, please, please, please, please?"
"No," she said picking up her things. "I'm going to go to the Prefect common room to let you guys get to work, alright?" She looked at Harry who was gazing out of the window.
"Fine," Ron said stubbornly.
Hermione walked out thinking of Harry. He had been so distant lately. Not like it was new, he had been like that ever since Sirius died about a year and a half ago. Well, at least he's studying hard, she thought. She walked into the Prefect common room. There was one person there. Just a blond haired boy. She sat one table away from him.
She laid her stuff down and got to work. She was concentrating so hard that she hadn't heard the boy clear his throat. She almost fell off her chair, after he threw a folded piece of paper at her. She unfolded it.
Hey bookworm can I copy the homework? It read.
She looked up. How couldn't she have noticed that it was Draco Malfoy sitting there? He raised his eyebrows giving her a look that made her sink to her shoes. She nodded and he brought his stuff over next to her. She swallowed hard. Keep cool, Hermione, she thought.
"How come you're in here and not your own common room?" Hermione asked him.
"Pansy. She gets a bit annoying after a while. How come you're not in yours?"
"Oh, Ron kept wanting to copy my work," she said.
"Wow," he said looking at her paper. "You have neat writing."
"Er..." she said confused, "thanks?"
He laughed. "How do you study so much?"
"What do you mean how?" she asked.
"Like every time I try to study I get distracted," he said.
"I don't know. I just concentrate. I guess it's easier said than done."
He laughed again. He started getting friendlier with her, talking more abut his life. He was in the middle of a sentence when Hermione blurted out, "Why are you being so nice to me?"
He looked puzzled and then laughed. "Oh you mean how come I am not saying 'Get away from Mudblood'?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know. Nobody here to impress, I guess."
"Impress?" she asked. Was he just a joke?
"Yeah, I mean, ever since me and Potter got into that fight on the first day we were at Hogwarts, I guess everyone thinks that we have to be arch enemies and that I can't say anything nice about his friends or anyone."
"Oh. But how does that 'impress' someone?"
"Okay, I guess it's not a matter of impressing people, but it's more of pleasing people. Like my father, for instance. If he heard I was talking nice to a Gryffindor he would go nuts. And don't get me even started on what he would do if I was talking nice to a Muggle born."
"How would he find out, though?"
"Obviously you do not know anything about my father," Draco said jokingly. "He has spies everywhere. Don't tell anyone this," he said his voice changing to a more serious tone, "but I kind of wish my father was sent to Azkaban. Actually I don't wish he was in Azkaban." His voice lowered, "I wish he was dead."
"How can you say that?" Hermione said, shocked. "How can you say that, especially about your family?"
"Hermione don't even get me started. My family is the most unstable family, I swear, you will ever meet. You don't even know half of the horrible things about my father, but if you did, you'd know what I mean."
After that night was over, Hermione felt differently about Draco. He seemed more level-headed than what she had remembered of him.
3
Late night talks between Draco and Hermione started becoming a routine. They talked about everything. Teachers, Quidditch, classmates, everything.
"How come Hermione has been going to the Prefect common room so much lately. What's in their, that's not here?" Ron asked, after Hermione told them she would, yet again, not be returning to the common room with them after dinner.
Harry shrugged, sensing the jealousy in Ron's voice. "I don't see why it matters. She's just probably tired of you asking to copy, you know?"
Ron just rolled his eyes at Harry. "I don't think so. You know what we have to do? We have to wait up for Hermione to come back."
Harry shook his head, at his best friend's stupidity. Ron had the password to the common room, so he could go and see if she was really doing her homework. But Harry didn't tell Ron this. If she wasn't doing homework, Hermione deserved some privacy.
3
"I don't really understand that game," Hermione said one night. "I mean it's just full of violence."
"Well there's more to it than that. Here let's play a game," Draco went to another table and grabbed a chess set and began to teach Hermione. She wasn't listening, she was just watching Draco. In the middle of the explanation, he looked up and realized she wasn't paying attention. "And... when the... the king is..." he was staring at her. His mind was clouded. She was suddenly looking more and more pretty. "When the... king is cornered... then... then that means... check—" Hermione leaned in towards Draco and soon there was no space between them.
Author's Note: Please review if you have any advice!