I have a question for Fanfiction-I realize that we can't dedicate entire author's note's to chapters, but muses are OK, right?
Allright, I did it-
I got a muse!
(So Omniflyer and Ivan of Vault can stop asking me to get one!)
(To all those who don't know, a muse is a little creature who sits in shoulder and gives you…..uhhh..… "constructive" criticism. Oh, and beats on you if needed.)
To JibberMonkey-Wait, what am I saying? This is my brother! Patrick, stop putting my name on the internet! (Revenge is sweet) I mean, now everyone's gonna know my name's Julia! I mean….ooops…..
To Omniflyer and Ivan of Vault-Tell Dew, Char, or yourself (Ivan) that I HAVE a muse! And even if I didn't, I update regularly, even if my chapters are short. If you didn't have muses to keep you writing..…well…..
So, here is my muse….….….….…
Tinder!
(Tinder) Hi! I'm Tinder!
OK, That's it for the author's note, I guess-
(Tinder) Hey!!
What?
(Tinder) Don't I get to say anything else?
…Not really.
(Tinder) Well, for all those people who care-
-no one cares, Tinder-
(Tinder)Well, I would think that any thing with me in it would be a lot more entertaining then some stupid fan fic of yours-
*Shoves Tinder in a box* Well, keep reading, people!
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Hermione, Ron, and Harry got pushed into a room and immediately fell down. It was a rather nice room-bookshelves filled with novels covered the walls, couches and chairs encircled a fireplace. The carpets were quite nice also-light green that matched the couches. As they got up, Hermione heard the door click. She also heard an odd whispering behind it, so she guessed that it was getting locked. She walked directly towards the fire, paused, moved back a couple of paces and sank into a couch.
At least, that's what she would've done, unless…
"Er-would you mind getting off me, Granger?"
Hermione looked behind her and promptly fell on the floor.
"That's much better, thanks." The voice drawled as he went back to his book. "Here-"
He got his feet off the couch, reached over and held out a hand to help her up. Not knowing quite what to do, she grasped it and heaved-only to be let go by her support.
"Sorry, Granger" Draco smirked. "Couldn't resist-"
Hermione scowled and got herself up. Then she sank into the opposite end of the couch as Draco and buried her face in the arm of the couch. Draco looked up, mildly surprised-
but his mild surprise turned into slight concern as it became obvious she was crying.
This created a small dilemma for him-he was, of course, a Malfoy-he couldn't just leave a lady crying on the couch. But this was, of course, Hermi…Granger, and therefore…..
Draco suddenly remembered his father's warning and put his book down.
"Granger?" he asked softly. He could've kicked himself after saying that. How could he be so careless?
Ron and Harry (whom hadn't said a word yet) exchanged glances warily-they didn't know what game he was playing, but if he put one finger on Hermione, he would get hexed into the next century. Hermione continued to sob, although paused momentarily when he said her name.
Draco took this as a chance to call out again to her, this time correcting himself. "Hermione?"
That got Hermione's attention. She had by this point stopped crying entirely, although her cheeks were still tear-stained. She looked very confused.
"What did you call me?" she asked, bewildered.
"I called you Hermione." He said simply, and scooted over on the couch towards her, smiling. "Can't very well call you mudblood anymore, can I?"
Now Hermione was not alone in her confusion. "Can't you?" asked Ron, who was, with Harry, trying to hex the door open.
"Don't bother trying the door." he said. "He's hexed it so that it's bound until he returns. Room of Requirement, remember? 'To suit one's needs.' This is how he wished it."
"What, with the couches and everything?" asked Harry, wondering why he would try to make them comfortable.
"Yes-I have to stay here, don't I? So do you, Potter. And Hermione." he looked at Ron and frowned. "I'm not so sure as to why you're here, though, Weasley…"
"Why are you doing that?" asked Hermione.
"Doing…what?" Draco asked.
"You call them by their last names, yet you call me Hermione, instead of Granger or Mudblood. Why?"
"Well, you can't expect me to-"
Sudden comprehension dawned on Malfoy's face.
"Wait-have you seen him yet?"
Hermione looked like she thought he was mad. "Of course we did, didn't you see him chuck us in here?"
"You don't understand…not my Dad, You-Know-Who"
"Voldemort?"
Draco flinched "Yes, him. I take it you haven't seen him then?"
"No, why would we-" Ron spluttered.
"Not we" said Draco, turning back to Hermione. "More like, she…"
There was a silence that rang throughout the room. Harry was getting a headache.
"But if anyone asks, I didn't tell you. You don't know. Allright?" He said, eyes still
fixed on Hermione.
"No, I don't know, and it would be really nice if someone would tell me what's going on around here-"
"Hermione-"
"Stop it."
"Stop what?"
"Calling me Hermione."
"I can't call you anything else anymore. So it's either Hermione or something else you choose. And I can't tell you why, so stop looking like that." Now he was starting to look pained, sympathetic, as her obviously not satisfied eyes bore into his.
She continued to look as misled as ever.
"Stop it." He pleaded, looking her in the eye.
Hermione stared back at Draco…this seemed-
"Impossible." She breathed.
"What was that?" Draco asked.
"Impossible, I said. Here you are, my worst enemy knowing something I don't, not holding it over my head or anything, just being-being"
She struggled for words.
"Nice about it! You haven't called me one name since I got here, the only rude thing you did was something Ginny could do to me and I wouldn't care and- "
She stopped. Draco was watching her. He wasn't smirking, nor looking surprised. He just sat there, face showing no expression, waiting for her to finish. Hermione's voice got very soft, but there was a certain power to it. She sat more broadly, and said,
"You want to tell me. I can see it. Maybe I'm crazy, or I'm hallucinating, but it's like I can feel it. You want me to know. Maybe so I'll stop talking, maybe so you won't get into trouble. Maybe you want to cause me pain-"
At this, Draco let out a harsh laugh, interrupting her thought. Then he began to speak.
"Hermione, I've known you for 7 years now, and for the first time, I can honestly say I don't want to cause you pain."
He got up at that point, and strolled over towards the fire, holding his arms behind his back. Hermione had a desperate urge to ask why, but he continued.
"You don't know yet why I refuse to call you my normal names, nor why I'm being so nice. You will soon. Just think of it as that I'm…I'm under a sort of spell, if you will-"
"What on earth do you-" started Harry, but Draco cut him off.
"-one that I know what I must do, even if some are unwilling. You have been-and will be-put through too much. You have my sympathies. I will not bother you any longer."
Hermione no longer needed an answer to her desired question. One of them, at least…
Draco went back to his seat on the same couch as Hermione, and said something that seemed to surprise everyone-including himself.
"This year we have to be able to get along."
Ron looked up. Harry's head swiveled from the fire to Malfoy's face so face he heard a small crick in it snap. Hermione's eyes were as large as galleons. They all started speaking at once.
"What are you talking about?"
"He's not going to let anyone from gryffindor come back!"
"What's so special about this year, Draco?"
Draco turned to Hermione as if he had heard only her.
"Well, that's a start… 'Draco'…Never thought I'd hear you say that…"
"Answer me."
"Fine then…it's surprising how for a minute you can forget the only thing you're supposed to say, isn't it?"
He unfolded a letter from his pocket.
"As a matter of fact, Weasley, he is letting Gryffindors come back…and this year, as it's our last year, is special-for that, and…"
He scanned the letter with his eyes. Without looking up, he said,
"Because you're Head Girl, Hermione."
"Surprise, surprise" said Ron. Then it hit him. "Wait, this is a HUGE surprise…unless…has he given the school back?" he asked hopefully.
"Oh, so you don't know about Dumbledore either?" asked Draco.
"Yes, we know that much." Said Ron.
"Well then, who is he supposed to be giving it back too?"
"I dunno…Professor McGo-"
"Oh, Ron, do you honestly think that Voldemort's going to give up that easily?"
Ron shut up. He did not feel like expressing anything right now. He wanted to wake up from this bizarre dream-he wanted to wake up to waffles burning, to Hermione and Harry acting normal, for Lucius to be in jail and for Draco to go back to his usual prat-like self. Something told him this wasn't going to happen.
The door opened. Mr. Malfoy strode in. Not giving any explanation, he said simply,
"He will see you now."
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Another cliffie! Tee Hee!
Sorry it took so long to write, I guess I really have to get into my writing.
(Tinder) And I have to get into the habit of punishement….
Uh..oh…..
Please leave a review on your way out!
PS Sorry If the italics don't work-I need italics in my fic!