Disclaimer: Looks around. Nope. No J.K. Rowling here. I'm faaaaaaaarr from that. Trust me.
StephBH: Thanks. I guess. It wasn't really that good, but it's nice to know that someone likes it......... maybe.
Cow as White as Milk: Yes. I know it was short. Three chapters? Not so sure there. But I can try to be descriptive. Thank you for informing me.
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I Remember You
Chapter 2:
Hermione Granger, now 21 years was an Auror, alongside Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. She loved her job. OK. So Voldemort was gone. Dead. But there were still some whacked up psychos who were erm..... 'faithful' to The Dark Lord. There were also people who thought that they could be the next 'Voldemort', and uh... other cases.
Hermione lived alone in a flat, in London. Ron lived near Hermione, and Hermione lived near Harry. (A/N: Do you see where that's going?) Ron was married to old house-mate, Lavender Brown. Big surprise there. Harry was a bachelor. Not exactly a happy one, that is. He wanted a special someone to share his life with. Someone he could be happy with forever. Hermione was surfing single, and loving every solitary second of it.
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Draco Malfoy was standing outside of The Three Broomsticks, very annoyed. There was an extremely loud and annoying Beauty Queen Wanna Be attached to his arm. Coincidentally- or not - that Beauty Queen Wanna Be went by the name of Pansy Parkinson.
"Drakie darling," shrilled Pansy's nasally voice.
"What NOW pansy?"
Pansy didn't miss a beat. "When will we get married?"
Draco growled deep in his throat. "Pansy," he said, obviously trying to control his temper. "We've been through this, what? Millions of times? WE'RE NOT GETTING MARRIED! We're not even DATING! Honestly, what do I have to do to get you to understand that?!"
"OH," was the unintelligent answer. "Then...when will you be asking me out on a date?"
Draco let out a loud exasperated sigh. He looked down at the dead, bleached thousands of times hair, and felt his stomach turn. He quickly looked away. 'We're out in public,' he thought desperately to himself. 'It won't look good if you just suddenly throw up.'
"Drakie? Are you okay? You're looking a wee bit sick," gushed the sickingly sweet voice.
Draco had to force out a decent answer. "I'm fine. Stop worrying about me."
"But I want to! We were meant to be together! I care for you."
"Shut up Pansy. We're not getting married. And that's final." So much for decent answers.
"But...But...we were meant to be!" Pansy said in a hurt voice, fat tears threatening to ooze out of those ebony eyes.
Draco sighed an exasperated sigh. What was wrong with this woman? Why couldn't she just leave him alone?
"No Pansy. We were NOT 'meant to be'," Draco said, as if explaining Algebra to a three year old. "Just because I took you here for a drink does NOT mean anything. Okay? You were the only one available, and I didn't want to look foolish, coming here by myself."
No reply.
"Fine," she pouted. "But I know you really do like me. You just don't want to admit it." She grinned wryly. "Hopefully, someday, you'll come clean about it."
Draco felt a headache coming.
"Let's just go in."
"Whatever you want sweetie."
Argh.
He steered Pansy inside, hoping, and praying that she would just this once, act like a decent human being.
He got them seats, situated near the corner, and left. He ordered two butterbeers. He brought the drinks back to the table, and sat down. He took one sip, before he saw a familiar flash of red...
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Harry, Ron and Hermione had agreed to meet at The Three Broomsticks for a little get together, and for a drink.
"Hey Harry!"
"Hey Ron! Hey Hermione! How are you guys?"
"Fine."
"Just dandy!"
Harry laughed. Leave it up to Ron to come up with the catch phrases. "It's been what, one day since I've seen you guys?!" Harry said with a hearty chuckle. "What has happened between then and now?"
"Absolutely nothing!" came Hermione's reply.
"Oh. Me?! Well, I went to the new Quidditch shop, and you won't believe it Harry! They have this brand new set of Quidditch Balls, and it's already on discount!"
"Really Ron?! Did you buy them?!"
"Well, duh! Do I look stupid to you?!"
"No. Not at all Ron," Harry said with a grin.
"Good."
With that, they quickly started jabbering about Quidditch, the newest broomsticks, and players, leaving Hermione alone. But of course, she was used to this now, so she took a swig of the last drop from her glass of Butterbeer, and stood up.
"I'm going to get another glass guys," she announced.
"What? Oh, sure Hermione," Harry said, not even glancing at her, and waving a distracted hand. At least he did something. Ron didn't even move a muscle in dedication for her.
She sighed. Those two, they'll never grow up. She smiled. Good. If they grew up, they wouldn't be Harry and Ron anymore.
"Hello. Can I get another glass of Butterbeer, please?"
"Sure thing ma'am."
She waited a couple of seconds.
"Here you go miss."
"Oh, why, thank you. Umm...... sir? I only ordered one glass."
"I know ma'am," the bartender said with a subtle wink. Hermione felt disturbed. "I thought that such a pretty lady such as yourself deserved a treat."
"Oh. Umm..... thank you sir."
"Any day."
Hermione walked away, and faintly heard the bartender, who's nametag identified him as Steve, mumble something barely coherent about pretty ladies, extra glasses, and tight skirts.
She went back to her seat, and waited until Harry and Ron were finished talking. Mind you, that took a while.
Harry turned to her, opened his mouth, and was about to say something, when a shadow was cast over Hermione and half of the table.
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"Good day Potter, Weasley, Granger," announced the distinctive and overly assertive voice of Draco Malfoy, accentuating each name with a slight nod. "Fancy meeting you here."
Hermione turned around, and looked up.
"Hello Malfoy," she greeted.
"How have you been?" he inquired, and judging by their pasts, it sounded as if he were inquiring about the weather.
"Just peachy," she replied, cool as ice, and as bland as a stone.
"That's good to hear," he said, with the slightest hint of a smirk, and an amused tone. "And how about you, Potter, Weasley?"
"Spiffy as ever." Ron.
"Not that it would concern you, but better than before." Harry.
"Also encouraging to hear," came the smooth answer.
"What do you want Malfoy?"
"Am I not allowed to greet old school-mates, potter? Or are you still sticking to the old grudge?" Draco asked in a bemused tone.
"Well, of course you're allowed to," Hermione cut in. Harry and Ron's jaw hit the ground. Draco smirked. Malfoy: 1compliment, Potter and Weasley: 0 compliments. "That is, if you're saying hi to anyone but us." Harry and Ron stopped their fish impressions. Malfoy: 1, Potter and Weasley: 1. Even.
"Why, Granger. Never thought you had it in you to say something like that," Malfoy retorted, slightly angered. "You always had that bushy head of yours buried in books." But, then again, that insult didn't have the desired affect.
"Nice try, Malfoy. In case, you're blind, my hair isn't a bush."
Harry and Ron sniggered, not trying to hide it. Draco glared daggers.
But it was true. Hermione's hair was now only slightly curly, very shiny, very...perfect. It gave her features an angelic.....touch. A spizzaz.
Draco scowled. Malfoy: 0, Granger: 1.
"DRAKIE DEARIE!" shouted the voice of Pansy Parkinson, nearly shattering Hermione's unfinished glass of Butterbeer.
Draco grimaced. Harry and Ron snickered-again. Malfoy shot more death glares. They only laughed harder.
"What Pansy?" Draco managed to grit through clenched teeth.
Even Hermione had to stifle a giggle.
"This kind gentleman here agreed oh so kindly to cater for our wedding. Come over here and say Thank You."
Oh god.
"Pansy, we're NOT GETTING MARRIED!" he shouted.
"Stop with the act," Pansy snapped. For someone who resembled a pug in so many ways, she could also do a very good impression of a snapping turtle.
Draco walked over slowly muttering under his breath about fat girls with limp hair, annoying voices, and disgusting habits.
Hermione watched shocked, as the young man trudged wearily over to the pudgy girl. Yes, girl. Not woman. Girl.
In school, everyone had always thought that Draco and Pansy would 'hook up' and have a family of their own.
'Guess not' Hermione thought wryly.
From behind her, Harry and Ron hooted with laughter, with tears streaming down their red faces.
"You guys look like crying tomatoes," Hermione commented, cracking an amused smile.
She never found out if they heard her, because if they had, they did a very bad job of showing it. They just kept right on laughing. Malfoy shot more daggers.
Hermione stood up, and dragged the two giddy boys out the bar by the ears. They didn't even complain of any pain. They were too busy cackling.
If looks could kill, the three of them would be 6,000 feet under.
She absolutely hated Draco Malfoy.
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Absolutely amazing. No. Not the story. I meant the fact that I actually wrote 5 ½ pages. It must be an all-time record for me. Okay. So nothing really happened in this chapter. I would really like some reviews... Thanks.
me.
