A/N: Hey fellow fanfiction-readers! SO sorry I haven't updated in awhile,
I've been busy with a lot of stuff. Example: Boys! You like one guy, tell a
friend, the friend tells you who they like-and trust you with that-and it
turns out that you like him too! I hate hormones...Also, I've been writing
a story defining the human Polshka, whom was introduced to you by
Lindsayizme (iz her). I don't know if I should post it, I think I'll give
it to her since it originated from her (and her friends') creative mind(s).
sigh I'm pretty creative, but sometimes I envy her. I plan to post
another story on here! If it is on Harry Potter, then the people aren't
witches/wizards, and they aren't anything at all like they are in the
movies/books. Well, eternally in debt to you wonderful 17 & up people who
have read this before. Well, enjoy The Room Of The Cupboards! Oh, and one
more minor detail....REVIEW NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Please?
P.S. Adaire (a knew character in here...for a little while) is my cousin...her nickname, at least.
Disclaimer: Woo-hahaha! You think I own this stuff? giggle you're funny, you all should be stand-up comedians or something. Don't worry! I'm not poor, i do own...wait! i don't own him either! WAH!!!!
It Was All Neville's Fault!!! Chapter 6: The Room of The Cupboards.
Draco Malfoy stood staring at the large draperies before him. He smirked and walked closer to them. You see, these curtains were no ordinary curtains, they were the curtains of Zabini the zorlan. Once,a long time ago, Draco had asked his father what a zorlan was.
"A zorlan, Draco, is a sorcerer that was shunned by the wizarding world," his father had said.
Draco stared at the unfurling beauty of the draperies as they churned in the gentle breeze that was emerging from an open window nearby, he noticed a small rip at the bottom of the left curtain. He stared oddly at it for a moment.
Another time, in Draco's 6th year, Professor Mandine, who had currently been holding lessons featuring Magical Items, had told them the story of these magical curtains. He had said, "the curtains of Zabini the Zorlan were made in the better half of the United States. But first a little about Zabini himself. Zabini was an ordinary wizard with a dream (A/N: Sorry, I saw a movie on Martin Luther King at school). He wanted to end all differences and quarrels between muggles and wizards, creature and man, etc. etc. But in his haste to stop these things, he overlooked one thing. A gift, given to him at a party celebrating the success of equality in Kentucky and New York. He had found the gift to be unuseful, but could not give it back for fear of angering the powerful wizard who had sent him the gift. So he spread its fabric until it became 3 stories tall and likewise in length and gave it to the creatures and humans of the wizarding world in hopes to get them to share something with one another. But once a finger was laid upon the fabric, the owner of the hand disappeared and was lost forever in a room where Zabini's dreams came true in a way he had not expected. All who entered could not leave until they had made their peace with all of humanity. Only two survived."
"Who? Who?" the students had asked.
"Lindsay Malfoy and Harrold Granger, said the teacher, "and they say that only their descendents can come through the magical portal...alive."
Draco took one reassuring step through the curtains. He strained to see beyond the flying debris that flew over and around him. When he felt the grit filing into his mouth, he was about to give up when he fell onto something cold and hard. He sat there for a moment, thewn rose slowly. Equally slow, he opened his eyes, expecting nothing less than the worst. What he saw made him stare. All around him were cupboards. Cupboards on the wall, cupboards on the floor. Draco scanned the room.
Huh? thought Draco. He blinked and rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. "What in bloody hell are you doing here!?!" asked Draco with a short look of disgust.
"Hello, who are you? I'm sorry, do I know you?" asked none other than Gilderoy Lockhart.
"Oh ya, you lost your mind, I forgot about that."
"Awfully nice place this, do you live here? I once met two boys-rarry and Hon-or something like that. They lived in a sort of cave..."
"Dad, what are you doing? Who's this?" asked a young and rather pretty girl, upon entering the room from a side door. Draco had never seen her before, but now that he did, he wished he had met her in a better situation.
I'll have to make the best of it, he sighed to himself.
"Draco-Draco Malfoy," said Draco mysteriously.
"Er-yes, Addy this is Draco," said the ex-professor.
The girl extended her hand. "A pleasure, I'm Wilhemina Lockhart," said the girl with a frown. "People call me by my middle name though, Adaire. You knew my father?" asked Adaire.
"Yes," said Draco, and taking her hand-as is tradition-kissing it once.
"Obviously you knew him, but how did you meet?"
"He was my teacher at this school. Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"But you just insulted him!" said Adaire shocked at the rudeness of a boy to his professor.
Draco bent towards Adaire, "only a little," he said in a cunning reply. He moved away. "Now, how did you get here?" he asked to change the subject to matters at hand.
"I don't really know. One minute I'm in class at Drualzi's Dueling Dancers, and the next-I'm here."
"That doesn't make any sense, did you do anything else?" asked Draco.
"Well, although quite irrelevant, my father was on a-" she paused, "- tour of the building-" Draco could see her eyes practically screaming the truth. He was on a field trip from the hospital, Draco thought dryly. Adaire continued, "-and he had brought me a lovely gift, a piece of ripped material, or rather, a piece of material that had been neatly cut."
"The curtains. Well, that explains it," replied Draco, ending the conversation. He began to walk further into the room where his fate was held. One more ingrediant, and then it's done, no more mudblood Granger. But as Draco finished this thought, he felt a painful twinge in his stomach. He felt sick, like someone was trying to tell him something by force. He couldn't stop thinking about Hermione. How she smiled, the way she walked - Draco clutched his chest and fell to the ground with a painful thud. He lay there for a moment, trying to figure out what was happening to him. An odd thought crossed his mind.
I don't need her, I don't like her, "I DON'T NEED HER!!!" Draco accidently shouted out his final thoughts.
"Draco! DRACO! Calm down! Who don't you need!?! Quick dad, help me!" A new idea formed inside of draco's mind, that of Harry Potter on the quiddtich field...no bones...
"I'm fine!" Draco jumped up.
"Your behavior before suggests otherwise!" said Adaire matter-of- factly.
"Nevermind that, it's because of this stupid body heat that's coming off of your downpour of sweat!"
Adaire was shocked. Draco was glad to see that he was back in control of the situation, even if it was just by a mild comment. Adaire scowled at the mock superiority that was arousing in a sneer upon Draco's face. Rather randomly, she slapped Draco, making him lower himself to the ground once more-along with him went his ego for the moment.
"How dare you!?!" Dracco rambled on, as Adaire leaned against a wall and studied her nails. "And to think that I was going to help you!" Suddenly, the wall Moira was leaning against began to shake. Moira screamed and jumped away, as the wall fell into rubble.
"Well, I must say!" said Lockhart.
"Please, don't," said Draco. Draco took a deep breath, and readied himself. Courageously, he stepped through the hole in the wall, and disappeared from site. Moira stepped through after him. A hush fell, that left Lockhart to himself.
"h-hm-hm, da-da-da-da, twiddle-de-dee, twiddle-de-doo, hup-two! Har- um-ba-dum-ah-ah-" Lockhart was pulled off of his seat by his daughter's hand grabbing his shirt sleeve and pulling hard.
Draco stepped lightly, wand at the ready, preparing himself for the worst. He had stepped into-not a room of cupboards- but a world of them. Everywhere, were cupborads. Each holding the oddest of things. At the other side of the room, Draco noticed one particular cupboard.
"Go search around. Now," Draco stated to the two behind him.
"We don't need you to boss us aro-"
"I said NOW!" Draco shouted. Moira and Lockhart ran towards the cupboards to their left, studying each carefully. Draco inched towards the cupboard. Very slowly, he opened it up. He peaked inside. At first, there was nothing. But then, a light broke out and spread over Draco, making his eyes burn and his hair blow. Moira and Lockhart ran towards him.
"What the-" Moira was cut off by a force that dragged all three of them forward. They were pulled into the cupboard.
Hermione walked down a cold, empty hall. Her senses tingled, and she was aware of a cold chill running down her spine. Very quietly, she pulled out her wand, gripping it cautiously. She was being followed. Earlier, she had been with Harry, in their commonroom. She had gone to the Library to read, as she always did when something was troubling her. On her way out of the Library, she realized how late it was and decided to take a shortcut back to Gryffindor tower. Unfortunately, she had taken a wrong turn...or two. Truth be told, she had gone up three flights of stairs, past four halls of suits of armor, and now, she believed she was on the top floor.
Each door that she tried to open was locked, and in this hall, there were-so far-none at all. Hermione turned a sharp corner and ran smack-dab into a door. She moved back a little, and noticed that there were three doors. Let's see, in all famous mortal movies, the side character chooses the door to the left, and the main character: the middle door. Well, since the other character gets eaten or traumatized by a horrid evil, I guess I have a choice between Door #2 and #3. But before she could answer, the middle door opened up. Or I could do that. Hermione walked into the unknown with only a flinch to show her nervousness.
Hermione stepped into the room, her hands covering her eyes from the blinding light that stood before her.
"What are yo-you did this didn't you? I demand an explanation!" a voice penetrated the silence in the bright room. Hermione recognized the voice. Damn, she thought.
"Draco, shut up. I'm trying to-" Hermione replied.
"Do what?" Draco sneered.
"Just-I can't-it's-GOT IT!" shouted Hermione. The light began to dim. Hermione smiled, and gave herself a mental pat on the back.
"What the hell did you do?" asked Draco, as he started forward.
"Simple. I just took out the lightbulb," said Hermione. She laughed at the scowl on Draco's face. "What is it, Malfoy? Distraught because know- it-all Granger saved you?"
"Saved me! I knew just what to do." What's a light bulb? thought Draco.
"Who cares? I'm busy-shut up."
"I didn't say anything."
"No, not you, Professor Loc-" Hermione gasped, "professor Lockhart?"
"At your service. I must say, out of all the people I've me-erm-seen lately, you're are the most beautiful yet!"
"Dad, stop! I told you, that kid in the hospital was a twit. You're not 17, and you're not supposed to marry a girl from Hogwarts!" exclaimed Moira, slapping her hand to her head. Hermione laughed quietly, along with Draco. Gaining her composure, Moira said her thanks, winked at Draco, and walked out the door. Yet, before she could pull her Father out of the over- crowded room, he gave one last comment, "So sorry, Madam," to Draco he said, "for such a frivalous young man, you are quite lucky to have such an extraordinary young woman," and then he was pulled out of the room.
Hermione blushed and tucked her hair behind her ear. She looked at Draco nervously out of the corner of her eye. This is too much, she thought desperately. Draco blushed deeply, and just as quickly regained his composure. He also looked over at Hermione. He suddenly remembered his feelings from earlier. Damn this potion! I'm beginning to-to.
"Draco, I love you," Hermione interrupted Draco's thoughts. Hermione slapped her hand over her mouth and spun around. Very swiftly, she left the room.
Draco was momentarily stunned. "Wait!" he called after her. But she was out of range to hear him, "I love you too."
A/N: Cliffy-ish, right? Well, sorry people, but I'm in a sappy mood right now. I just asked someone out, and got a good reply! If anyone I know questions me about this, they'll get no response. I need my privacy! Yes, that means you two also, Linday and Kellie! I'm shy about these things, dint even bring it up...especially because you all wouldnt like my story. Or who I asked out. Basically, ask and die!!!! Because I am a terrible person. Well, see ya'll next time! Give me any type of review, even flames! I enjoy your opinions more than you know! See ya, Mina!
P.S. I decided to let you all know my site at fictionpress.com: Friend-Of- Camel.
P.S. Adaire (a knew character in here...for a little while) is my cousin...her nickname, at least.
Disclaimer: Woo-hahaha! You think I own this stuff? giggle you're funny, you all should be stand-up comedians or something. Don't worry! I'm not poor, i do own...wait! i don't own him either! WAH!!!!
It Was All Neville's Fault!!! Chapter 6: The Room of The Cupboards.
Draco Malfoy stood staring at the large draperies before him. He smirked and walked closer to them. You see, these curtains were no ordinary curtains, they were the curtains of Zabini the zorlan. Once,a long time ago, Draco had asked his father what a zorlan was.
"A zorlan, Draco, is a sorcerer that was shunned by the wizarding world," his father had said.
Draco stared at the unfurling beauty of the draperies as they churned in the gentle breeze that was emerging from an open window nearby, he noticed a small rip at the bottom of the left curtain. He stared oddly at it for a moment.
Another time, in Draco's 6th year, Professor Mandine, who had currently been holding lessons featuring Magical Items, had told them the story of these magical curtains. He had said, "the curtains of Zabini the Zorlan were made in the better half of the United States. But first a little about Zabini himself. Zabini was an ordinary wizard with a dream (A/N: Sorry, I saw a movie on Martin Luther King at school). He wanted to end all differences and quarrels between muggles and wizards, creature and man, etc. etc. But in his haste to stop these things, he overlooked one thing. A gift, given to him at a party celebrating the success of equality in Kentucky and New York. He had found the gift to be unuseful, but could not give it back for fear of angering the powerful wizard who had sent him the gift. So he spread its fabric until it became 3 stories tall and likewise in length and gave it to the creatures and humans of the wizarding world in hopes to get them to share something with one another. But once a finger was laid upon the fabric, the owner of the hand disappeared and was lost forever in a room where Zabini's dreams came true in a way he had not expected. All who entered could not leave until they had made their peace with all of humanity. Only two survived."
"Who? Who?" the students had asked.
"Lindsay Malfoy and Harrold Granger, said the teacher, "and they say that only their descendents can come through the magical portal...alive."
Draco took one reassuring step through the curtains. He strained to see beyond the flying debris that flew over and around him. When he felt the grit filing into his mouth, he was about to give up when he fell onto something cold and hard. He sat there for a moment, thewn rose slowly. Equally slow, he opened his eyes, expecting nothing less than the worst. What he saw made him stare. All around him were cupboards. Cupboards on the wall, cupboards on the floor. Draco scanned the room.
Huh? thought Draco. He blinked and rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. "What in bloody hell are you doing here!?!" asked Draco with a short look of disgust.
"Hello, who are you? I'm sorry, do I know you?" asked none other than Gilderoy Lockhart.
"Oh ya, you lost your mind, I forgot about that."
"Awfully nice place this, do you live here? I once met two boys-rarry and Hon-or something like that. They lived in a sort of cave..."
"Dad, what are you doing? Who's this?" asked a young and rather pretty girl, upon entering the room from a side door. Draco had never seen her before, but now that he did, he wished he had met her in a better situation.
I'll have to make the best of it, he sighed to himself.
"Draco-Draco Malfoy," said Draco mysteriously.
"Er-yes, Addy this is Draco," said the ex-professor.
The girl extended her hand. "A pleasure, I'm Wilhemina Lockhart," said the girl with a frown. "People call me by my middle name though, Adaire. You knew my father?" asked Adaire.
"Yes," said Draco, and taking her hand-as is tradition-kissing it once.
"Obviously you knew him, but how did you meet?"
"He was my teacher at this school. Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"But you just insulted him!" said Adaire shocked at the rudeness of a boy to his professor.
Draco bent towards Adaire, "only a little," he said in a cunning reply. He moved away. "Now, how did you get here?" he asked to change the subject to matters at hand.
"I don't really know. One minute I'm in class at Drualzi's Dueling Dancers, and the next-I'm here."
"That doesn't make any sense, did you do anything else?" asked Draco.
"Well, although quite irrelevant, my father was on a-" she paused, "- tour of the building-" Draco could see her eyes practically screaming the truth. He was on a field trip from the hospital, Draco thought dryly. Adaire continued, "-and he had brought me a lovely gift, a piece of ripped material, or rather, a piece of material that had been neatly cut."
"The curtains. Well, that explains it," replied Draco, ending the conversation. He began to walk further into the room where his fate was held. One more ingrediant, and then it's done, no more mudblood Granger. But as Draco finished this thought, he felt a painful twinge in his stomach. He felt sick, like someone was trying to tell him something by force. He couldn't stop thinking about Hermione. How she smiled, the way she walked - Draco clutched his chest and fell to the ground with a painful thud. He lay there for a moment, trying to figure out what was happening to him. An odd thought crossed his mind.
I don't need her, I don't like her, "I DON'T NEED HER!!!" Draco accidently shouted out his final thoughts.
"Draco! DRACO! Calm down! Who don't you need!?! Quick dad, help me!" A new idea formed inside of draco's mind, that of Harry Potter on the quiddtich field...no bones...
"I'm fine!" Draco jumped up.
"Your behavior before suggests otherwise!" said Adaire matter-of- factly.
"Nevermind that, it's because of this stupid body heat that's coming off of your downpour of sweat!"
Adaire was shocked. Draco was glad to see that he was back in control of the situation, even if it was just by a mild comment. Adaire scowled at the mock superiority that was arousing in a sneer upon Draco's face. Rather randomly, she slapped Draco, making him lower himself to the ground once more-along with him went his ego for the moment.
"How dare you!?!" Dracco rambled on, as Adaire leaned against a wall and studied her nails. "And to think that I was going to help you!" Suddenly, the wall Moira was leaning against began to shake. Moira screamed and jumped away, as the wall fell into rubble.
"Well, I must say!" said Lockhart.
"Please, don't," said Draco. Draco took a deep breath, and readied himself. Courageously, he stepped through the hole in the wall, and disappeared from site. Moira stepped through after him. A hush fell, that left Lockhart to himself.
"h-hm-hm, da-da-da-da, twiddle-de-dee, twiddle-de-doo, hup-two! Har- um-ba-dum-ah-ah-" Lockhart was pulled off of his seat by his daughter's hand grabbing his shirt sleeve and pulling hard.
Draco stepped lightly, wand at the ready, preparing himself for the worst. He had stepped into-not a room of cupboards- but a world of them. Everywhere, were cupborads. Each holding the oddest of things. At the other side of the room, Draco noticed one particular cupboard.
"Go search around. Now," Draco stated to the two behind him.
"We don't need you to boss us aro-"
"I said NOW!" Draco shouted. Moira and Lockhart ran towards the cupboards to their left, studying each carefully. Draco inched towards the cupboard. Very slowly, he opened it up. He peaked inside. At first, there was nothing. But then, a light broke out and spread over Draco, making his eyes burn and his hair blow. Moira and Lockhart ran towards him.
"What the-" Moira was cut off by a force that dragged all three of them forward. They were pulled into the cupboard.
Hermione walked down a cold, empty hall. Her senses tingled, and she was aware of a cold chill running down her spine. Very quietly, she pulled out her wand, gripping it cautiously. She was being followed. Earlier, she had been with Harry, in their commonroom. She had gone to the Library to read, as she always did when something was troubling her. On her way out of the Library, she realized how late it was and decided to take a shortcut back to Gryffindor tower. Unfortunately, she had taken a wrong turn...or two. Truth be told, she had gone up three flights of stairs, past four halls of suits of armor, and now, she believed she was on the top floor.
Each door that she tried to open was locked, and in this hall, there were-so far-none at all. Hermione turned a sharp corner and ran smack-dab into a door. She moved back a little, and noticed that there were three doors. Let's see, in all famous mortal movies, the side character chooses the door to the left, and the main character: the middle door. Well, since the other character gets eaten or traumatized by a horrid evil, I guess I have a choice between Door #2 and #3. But before she could answer, the middle door opened up. Or I could do that. Hermione walked into the unknown with only a flinch to show her nervousness.
Hermione stepped into the room, her hands covering her eyes from the blinding light that stood before her.
"What are yo-you did this didn't you? I demand an explanation!" a voice penetrated the silence in the bright room. Hermione recognized the voice. Damn, she thought.
"Draco, shut up. I'm trying to-" Hermione replied.
"Do what?" Draco sneered.
"Just-I can't-it's-GOT IT!" shouted Hermione. The light began to dim. Hermione smiled, and gave herself a mental pat on the back.
"What the hell did you do?" asked Draco, as he started forward.
"Simple. I just took out the lightbulb," said Hermione. She laughed at the scowl on Draco's face. "What is it, Malfoy? Distraught because know- it-all Granger saved you?"
"Saved me! I knew just what to do." What's a light bulb? thought Draco.
"Who cares? I'm busy-shut up."
"I didn't say anything."
"No, not you, Professor Loc-" Hermione gasped, "professor Lockhart?"
"At your service. I must say, out of all the people I've me-erm-seen lately, you're are the most beautiful yet!"
"Dad, stop! I told you, that kid in the hospital was a twit. You're not 17, and you're not supposed to marry a girl from Hogwarts!" exclaimed Moira, slapping her hand to her head. Hermione laughed quietly, along with Draco. Gaining her composure, Moira said her thanks, winked at Draco, and walked out the door. Yet, before she could pull her Father out of the over- crowded room, he gave one last comment, "So sorry, Madam," to Draco he said, "for such a frivalous young man, you are quite lucky to have such an extraordinary young woman," and then he was pulled out of the room.
Hermione blushed and tucked her hair behind her ear. She looked at Draco nervously out of the corner of her eye. This is too much, she thought desperately. Draco blushed deeply, and just as quickly regained his composure. He also looked over at Hermione. He suddenly remembered his feelings from earlier. Damn this potion! I'm beginning to-to.
"Draco, I love you," Hermione interrupted Draco's thoughts. Hermione slapped her hand over her mouth and spun around. Very swiftly, she left the room.
Draco was momentarily stunned. "Wait!" he called after her. But she was out of range to hear him, "I love you too."
A/N: Cliffy-ish, right? Well, sorry people, but I'm in a sappy mood right now. I just asked someone out, and got a good reply! If anyone I know questions me about this, they'll get no response. I need my privacy! Yes, that means you two also, Linday and Kellie! I'm shy about these things, dint even bring it up...especially because you all wouldnt like my story. Or who I asked out. Basically, ask and die!!!! Because I am a terrible person. Well, see ya'll next time! Give me any type of review, even flames! I enjoy your opinions more than you know! See ya, Mina!
P.S. I decided to let you all know my site at fictionpress.com: Friend-Of- Camel.