Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Note: This is supposed to be a one-shot fic, though I might continue it if you like. But whether it is or isn't REVIEW.
"Hermione? Hermione," a frantic voice could be heard. Ron Weasley shook Hermione out of her dazed state. She now remembered where she was.
"What?" She whispered, annoyed.
"Professor Flitwick wants you to give a demonstration of the Memory Charm. Come on, Mione..." He whispered back urgently, eyes darting towards the waiting Professor.
She pointed her wand towards the vicious-looking cat in front of her.
"Obliviate."
The cat stopped hissing and slowly slunk on to the bottom of the cage. A few seconds later, the cat opened it's eyes and stood uncertainly on it's four legs and paced around the cage, as if very confused.
"Good work. Ten points to Gryffindor." Professor Flitwick squeaked, "Now for homework..."
For once in her life, Hermione tuned out of what he was saying. It was only distracting her from staring at Him. He was looking perfect as always today. She mindlessly picked up a pair of scissors as she – the girl she loathed – walked past.
'Snip'
A lock of perfect black hair landed in the middle of Hermione's palm, while at the same time, staring at Him.
He was her obsession.
That girl walked passed him and seductively swayed her hips. His cheeks were tinged a pinkish colour and he licked his lips.
Jealousy coursed through Hermione's veins. Why couldn't she be the one he would pay attention to? To lick his luscious lips at? Just because to him, she was always going to be the same filthy, know-it-all mudblood.
'Why can't I be Pansy?' She pondered with fierce determination.
The end of the lesson was soon nearing and she could tell by the way Harry and Ron were fidgeting about in their seats, eyes watching the door, from now and then.
Only a few seconds left...
The bell sounded and nearly all the boys from both Gryffindor and Slytherin Houses rushed out of the narrow doorway.
She waited every single student was out, the last one that was out was Him, he was running his hand through his hair.
She sighed and quickly disappeared in to the cold and damp corridors on the Second Floor. She was, naturally, heading towards the unused Girl's Bathroom, in which, Moaning Myrtle owned.
She pushed the faded green, rickety door aside and crouched down beside the bubbling pot of a Potion.
From deep inside her pocket she pulled out a clear-glass vial containing Pansy's lock of hair.
She removed the cork from the top and emptied the glass-vial in to the Potion. She gently picked up the stirring rod and calmly stirred the hair in to the mixture.
The Polyjuice Potion.
Wrinkling up her nose, Hermione looked at the grungy green brew that stood before her. Why was she doing this again? Oh yes, for Him.
She smiled as she remembered how he looked in her dreams last night. How sweet he had been to her. Whispering sweet nothings in to her ear and kissing her with love and passion.
'That will soon be how it will be,' She thought. For months she had planned and calculated, staying up so late at night, she next morning she had dark bags under her eyes.
But was it all worth it? In her mind, yes, it was all worth it. Just to feel him, maybe even kiss him, to even have him look at her the same way he did to Pansy.
Hermione sank to the floor of the stall, the potion still in her hands and sighed deeply, thinking about the way Draco's blonde hair had become messier as he got older. How it fell in his eyes and framed his face, contrasting with his pale skin.
How he smiled. Not smirked. Really smiled. The way he looked at Pansy. The way he spoke to his friends. The way he moved.
If Hermione concentrated really hard on those parts of him, it was easy to forget that he hated her because she was a Muggle-born. Easy to forget how he hated Harry, her best friend.
How he'd been trying to get Hagrid fired. How he taunted Gryffindors, as well as herself, and boasted to everyone about his father's money.
But it was never easy to forget how she'd had a crush on him since the first moment she'd laid eyes on him back in their First Year, and how he hadn't given her a second glance because she was a mudblood, a Muggle-born. How obsessed he'd made her. How crazy she now was.
All Hermione could think about was how much she loved him, and how much she'd give away everything for him to love her back. She knew she shouldn't love him but there was nothing she could do about it. This love was out of her control.
She mindlessly tipped her head back and downed the awful-tasting Potion. Her vision became hazy and her head hurt. She put both hands on her head, holding it still, she felt as if there was an earthquake.
Then, as suddenly as it begun, it stopped. She got out of the stuffy bathroom stall and stared at the reflection in the mirror. She glanced down at her now curvy body.
A voice interrupted her amazement and awe, "What the hell are you doing here?" Myrtle whined.
Hermione's – no, Pansy's long black hair swished to her movement as she turned around and faced the annoying ghost.
"Go and stick your head down the toilet, Myrtle." She sneered. Well, she sure acted the part of Pansy well enough. Pansy's voice was a soft girlish voice. Something of which Hermione's natural husky voice could never be.
With one last look in the mirror, Hermione hurried out of the bathroom and headed downstairs to the Great Hall, hoping that everyone was just finishing dinner.
She was absolutely right. As she paused on the staircase, Hermione could spot the Slytherins coming out of the Great Hall and heading downstairs to the dungeons.
And that's when she saw him. Draco.
His white-blonde hair shone and stood out amongst the rest. He could hardly be mistaken between the two huge oafs that were Crabbe and Goyle. Taking a deep breath, and gathering up all her courage, Hermione ran after them.
"Draco!" She shouted along the corridor, running towards the three. The girlish voice was very new to her.
Draco spun around to face her, "What are you doing here?" He asked, "I thought Millicent was going to the library to pick up a – ahem – book to your liking."
Hermione, with her quick wits replied, "The library's boring Draco, I want to spend my time with you than some stupid old book."
That seemed to satisfy his question. He scooped her up much to her squealing and carried her towards his room.
Hermione knew that Draco's room was very near the Astronomy Tower, so naturally, Draco carried her with ease up the torrents of stairs.
With a soft click of his bedroom door, he set her down on the floor and started hastily kissing her neck. She shuddered from happiness at his touch, but wanted to look at him, so she pushed him away. Stopping him.
"Pansy – what the hell?" He snarled as she moved her neck away from his lips, "It's not the time to be playing hard-to-get now. I'm not in the mood."
Hermione was shocked. Didn't Draco love Pansy? Or at least like her?
She was extremely shocked when he ripped open her blouse and threw it carelessly on the floor, leaving her very self-conscious, in her own white-cotton bra.
Draco lifted up one eyebrow, "A cotton-white bra, Pansy? I didn't know you weren't in to that innocent girl act. If I did I would've bought a pair of silver boxers." He growled in a low voice, suggestively.
She whimpered at the red-marks on her arms.
"Come here." He leered, sitting down on his green and silver bedspread, licking his lips. Hermione loved him, but she was scared. Eventually she complied and scooted nearer to Draco.
He savagely grabbed and started kissing her, with no intention of stopping.
Hermione finally pulled away and he finally lost it, "Pansy – would you stop it with the lovey-dovey eyes? It pisses me off, you know that." He snapped.
She was so nervous she let it slip, "We need to talk – Malfoy."
"Pansy? Would you shut up for one second? And what's with the last name?" He snapped at her, his hands ruffling his hair. "God damn it Pansy, you know all I want from you is physical, you accepted it years ago!"
Hermione was in shock. This was how he treated Pansy? Now she wasn't so sure she wanted to be Pansy anymore.
She looked around the room, searching for a diversion and found a picture of Pansy's arm around Draco's waist.
"Draco – Draco can I have that picture of us?" She asked, wishing him to say yes and copy one with his wand.
To her horror he said, "Why would you want another one? This is the one copied from your copy."
"Oh – then – then never mind. I – I have to g-go." She stammered, "B-bye." She quickly hurried out of the room grabbing her torn blouse.
A string of curly brown hair could be seen in front of her eyes.
Oh shit, she was changing back.
She tried as hard as she could to reach the doorway before Draco could see anymore of her.
The tears suddenly spilled down her cheeks and Hermione ran from the room only seconds before Draco's confused voice cried, "Hermione?"
She ran. Ran past the disgusted portraits that screamed, "Ugly Mudblood!"
She felt as if her insides were being torn. Part of Hermione longed for Draco to chase after her, to tell her that he always knew it was her and that it was all a mistake, and he loved her so dearly. But she knew that it was all a lie, and couldn't stand the pain of this truth.
She rushed past a worried looking Ron and Harry looking at Neville, but she was only a blur to them, she didn't even think they recognized her.
The heavy wooden door slammed against the crumbly stonewall, and she stumbled in to the Astronomy Tower.
'I love him so much; I'm going crazy. And he doesn't even know I love him.' She thought, sobbing hysterically. 'How can I live on, knowing that he knows what I did to get to him?'
She gathered her wand from the dusty ground and wiped it clean. A clean start. That's what she needs. To wash away all her mistakes and pains.
Suddenly she could hear pitter-pattering echoing through the darkness of the staircase towards the Astronomy Tower.
She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes.
"Obliviate."
Her world darkened and she fell with a 'thud' to the floor.
How long she was out, she did not know, but she woke up to someone silently crying above her, tears of frustration and sadness tainting her clothes, he was crying a name over and over again, "Hermione. Hermione, I love you. Hermione..."
Gradually, her eyes flickered open to see a boy her age crying but no sobs emitted his mouth, his silver-grey eyes pierced her own.
For a moment, she stared blankly up at him before asking, "Who are you?"
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