Chapter 1:
Hermione walked into her room after the long drive from Kings Cross. She couldn't believe her dad wouldn't let her go to Ron's Right away. 'I'm more of a witch now then a muggle.' She thought sadly to herself. After setting down her books and Crookshanks Hermione quickly laid down and slept.
When she woke, She could hear yelling, shouting, and laughing all at once. Sighing she got up and went down stairs to see what was going on. About half way down, she heard one voice, then two she recognized. However, these weren't friends voices, no quite the opposite. Moreover, the LAST thing she was thinking of was letting them know she lived here. However, how to do it without her parents giving her away, or herself?
Stepping quietly down the steps she got to the point where she wasn't hidden. Sighing, she was glad to find that they were at the door. Hermione waved furiously to her mother beckoning her over, before her father saw.
"What's wrong dear?" Her mother asked, concerned.
"That's Malfoy and his father!" she whispered sharply. "Don't let them in, or mention me! Its for your own safety PLEASE!"
"Alright dear, I trust you." Then, her mother walked over, and quickly found a way to make the Malfoys leave.
"What was wrong, they seemed nice enough!" Her father wined, as he often did.
"Draco, the boy my age, is the school bully, and the cruelest in my age group! His father works for the Evil wizard society, and is worse." The Evil Wizard Society is what Hermione has to tell her parents so they understand; Death Eaters would be above them.
"Well, you can't stay locked up in the house, especially if you plan on visiting your friends." Her father stated. "You'll see them eventually."
"Why do you say that?" Hermione looked like she might be sick if her thought were correct.
"Well, their summer house is just up the block, you know that wreck of a house that looks like it came from the Victorian age." Her mother asked.
"Not there." Hermione nearly fainted, but wasn't one for worrying her parents over this. The house in question was black, and creepy, how well suited. In addition, it happened to be the first house beyond the field behind the Grangers place.
"Well I honestly think you taking this all way out of hand dear, they only came over to introduce themselves." Then her mother went off to the computer to do work, and her dad to cook lunch.
"If you knew them long enough to mention me, you'd know why." She muttered as she went upstairs to write Harry and Ron letters explaining what had just happened.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He couldn't believe his father. Imagine, him buying a house in a Muggle town! If the fact of staying near them wasn't enough, his father insisted on MEETING them! Later he'd talk to his mom, see if dad had finally lost it.
Draco glanced at the mirror on the wall and ran a hand through his now sandy blonde hair. Pleased with his reflection, he flicked open his closet and found a pair of loose jeans the color of milky cocoa. 'They'll do,' he decided. He then grabbed a white t-shirt and a plaid jacket. With a shrug, he put them all on, sticking a hand experimentally into a pocket.
"Muggle clothes," he stated flatly. He was due to go meet his new Muggle neighbors today, with his father. The day would be hell, at best.
*~*~*~*~
Being, as she was, Hermione, she didn't have any summer homework since she'd already finished it. Instead, she took out something she never wanted anyone to know she had: a sketchbook that served as a sort of pictorial scrapbook. In here, she could draw how she viewed things, as well as adding in pictures of what everyone saw. With captions, of course, so she would never forget anything that had happened to her, anything at all. But the thing was, not all of the memories were good. Some of the pictures were of dead people, car accidents, and the last one she had, besides that of Rita in bug form, was one of Cedric, on the night of the third Task. Most of the images held private meaning to her, and if anyone read the book, they would be reading her soul. That could never happen.
Taking out her handy dandy sharpened pencil, Hermione started to draw a picture of Draco. She laughed to herself as she drew her worst enemy for the hundredth time. She glanced out the window, only to see that very same person she was drawing staring up at her aimlessly. Then only to find herself starring straight into his eyes. The dragon is a magnificent creature, feared for its magic and strength, and held in awe for its beauty. Draco, which is Latin for dragon, was amazingly well named. A dragon, in human guise.
*~*~*~*~*~
Her eyes caught his, and locked. It was the oddest feeling that came over him- he couldn't look away. Of course he knew she was there, no introduction needed. Who else had parents who were both doctors? Not to mention had the last name, which couldn't be that common. He knew he'd have to eventually talk with her, see her, the whole deal. After all, they'd be spending the summer as neighbors. But never had he imagined he'd be having a staring contest with her that he didn't want to end. And through her window, at that.
A fly buzzing in front of his face snapped him out if it. After killing the dumb insect, he looked up and found that she too had snapped out of it. But then something else caught his eye: an old book she was holding. It wasn't the fact of a book- she always had a book on her- but it was the page facing him. On that page was a perfect sketch of himself, the himself he had tried to hide his entire life. The himself that only he was supposed to know about.
'Stupid mudblood, how in the hell did she see that side of me?' he thought to himself crossly.
Shaking himself out of the thoughts that were now running though his head, he looked up and caught her eyes again, this time on purpose. Giving his trademark smirk, he nodded very slightly in her direction, and turned on his heel to join his father in going home.
But no matter how hard he tried to rid himself of it, one thought still raced though his mind. The thought that had made him look up there in the first place. 'She really does look like a faerie when up close.'
Though Draco swore his entire summer to making sure she forgot the image he saw in her book, he couldn't help thinking how very long this summer was going to be. Draco just prayed his father would regain his sanity soon so they could go home and have nothing more to do with Muggles.
*~*~*~*~
Hermione was having troubles keeping her thoughts calm. What in the name of Merlin was that about! Of course, Malfoy always annoyed her simply by his presence, but something else was making her furious. He had seen her sketch book, and if she didn't know better, he'd also seen his picture! Well, she'd have to get back at him somehow. She'd have to make sure no one else ever heard of her book!
And that is where it all begins.
Hermione walked into her room after the long drive from Kings Cross. She couldn't believe her dad wouldn't let her go to Ron's Right away. 'I'm more of a witch now then a muggle.' She thought sadly to herself. After setting down her books and Crookshanks Hermione quickly laid down and slept.
When she woke, She could hear yelling, shouting, and laughing all at once. Sighing she got up and went down stairs to see what was going on. About half way down, she heard one voice, then two she recognized. However, these weren't friends voices, no quite the opposite. Moreover, the LAST thing she was thinking of was letting them know she lived here. However, how to do it without her parents giving her away, or herself?
Stepping quietly down the steps she got to the point where she wasn't hidden. Sighing, she was glad to find that they were at the door. Hermione waved furiously to her mother beckoning her over, before her father saw.
"What's wrong dear?" Her mother asked, concerned.
"That's Malfoy and his father!" she whispered sharply. "Don't let them in, or mention me! Its for your own safety PLEASE!"
"Alright dear, I trust you." Then, her mother walked over, and quickly found a way to make the Malfoys leave.
"What was wrong, they seemed nice enough!" Her father wined, as he often did.
"Draco, the boy my age, is the school bully, and the cruelest in my age group! His father works for the Evil wizard society, and is worse." The Evil Wizard Society is what Hermione has to tell her parents so they understand; Death Eaters would be above them.
"Well, you can't stay locked up in the house, especially if you plan on visiting your friends." Her father stated. "You'll see them eventually."
"Why do you say that?" Hermione looked like she might be sick if her thought were correct.
"Well, their summer house is just up the block, you know that wreck of a house that looks like it came from the Victorian age." Her mother asked.
"Not there." Hermione nearly fainted, but wasn't one for worrying her parents over this. The house in question was black, and creepy, how well suited. In addition, it happened to be the first house beyond the field behind the Grangers place.
"Well I honestly think you taking this all way out of hand dear, they only came over to introduce themselves." Then her mother went off to the computer to do work, and her dad to cook lunch.
"If you knew them long enough to mention me, you'd know why." She muttered as she went upstairs to write Harry and Ron letters explaining what had just happened.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He couldn't believe his father. Imagine, him buying a house in a Muggle town! If the fact of staying near them wasn't enough, his father insisted on MEETING them! Later he'd talk to his mom, see if dad had finally lost it.
Draco glanced at the mirror on the wall and ran a hand through his now sandy blonde hair. Pleased with his reflection, he flicked open his closet and found a pair of loose jeans the color of milky cocoa. 'They'll do,' he decided. He then grabbed a white t-shirt and a plaid jacket. With a shrug, he put them all on, sticking a hand experimentally into a pocket.
"Muggle clothes," he stated flatly. He was due to go meet his new Muggle neighbors today, with his father. The day would be hell, at best.
*~*~*~*~
Being, as she was, Hermione, she didn't have any summer homework since she'd already finished it. Instead, she took out something she never wanted anyone to know she had: a sketchbook that served as a sort of pictorial scrapbook. In here, she could draw how she viewed things, as well as adding in pictures of what everyone saw. With captions, of course, so she would never forget anything that had happened to her, anything at all. But the thing was, not all of the memories were good. Some of the pictures were of dead people, car accidents, and the last one she had, besides that of Rita in bug form, was one of Cedric, on the night of the third Task. Most of the images held private meaning to her, and if anyone read the book, they would be reading her soul. That could never happen.
Taking out her handy dandy sharpened pencil, Hermione started to draw a picture of Draco. She laughed to herself as she drew her worst enemy for the hundredth time. She glanced out the window, only to see that very same person she was drawing staring up at her aimlessly. Then only to find herself starring straight into his eyes. The dragon is a magnificent creature, feared for its magic and strength, and held in awe for its beauty. Draco, which is Latin for dragon, was amazingly well named. A dragon, in human guise.
*~*~*~*~*~
Her eyes caught his, and locked. It was the oddest feeling that came over him- he couldn't look away. Of course he knew she was there, no introduction needed. Who else had parents who were both doctors? Not to mention had the last name, which couldn't be that common. He knew he'd have to eventually talk with her, see her, the whole deal. After all, they'd be spending the summer as neighbors. But never had he imagined he'd be having a staring contest with her that he didn't want to end. And through her window, at that.
A fly buzzing in front of his face snapped him out if it. After killing the dumb insect, he looked up and found that she too had snapped out of it. But then something else caught his eye: an old book she was holding. It wasn't the fact of a book- she always had a book on her- but it was the page facing him. On that page was a perfect sketch of himself, the himself he had tried to hide his entire life. The himself that only he was supposed to know about.
'Stupid mudblood, how in the hell did she see that side of me?' he thought to himself crossly.
Shaking himself out of the thoughts that were now running though his head, he looked up and caught her eyes again, this time on purpose. Giving his trademark smirk, he nodded very slightly in her direction, and turned on his heel to join his father in going home.
But no matter how hard he tried to rid himself of it, one thought still raced though his mind. The thought that had made him look up there in the first place. 'She really does look like a faerie when up close.'
Though Draco swore his entire summer to making sure she forgot the image he saw in her book, he couldn't help thinking how very long this summer was going to be. Draco just prayed his father would regain his sanity soon so they could go home and have nothing more to do with Muggles.
*~*~*~*~
Hermione was having troubles keeping her thoughts calm. What in the name of Merlin was that about! Of course, Malfoy always annoyed her simply by his presence, but something else was making her furious. He had seen her sketch book, and if she didn't know better, he'd also seen his picture! Well, she'd have to get back at him somehow. She'd have to make sure no one else ever heard of her book!
And that is where it all begins.