Warning: NOT BETA-ed, pure, raw, uncut please ignore the excessive commas
Disclaimer: JK's lawyers have sat one me, beat me, humiliated me…but I will not be cowed! I AM THE CREATOR… ::lawyers crack knuckles threateningly:: of…this fanfics…damnit…you win JK…you win
Chapter Four: This Travesty of Jealousy
Any love you once felt for me
Has turned into this travesty
Of selfishness and jealousy
So why can't you just let me go?
Any love you once felt for me
Has turned into this travesty
Of selfishness and jealousy
So why can't I just let you go?
--The Cure "Trap"
The rain fell in torrents from the heavy grey clouds, pregnant with moisture, pattering on the roofs and windows of homes, and hitting the green earth below. The freezing wind howled, battering at doors and windows trying to find entrance. But Hermione was cozy and safe inside the manor, seated in a soft arm chair in front of a blazing fire, an abandoned book resting on the arm of the chair. She was completely and utterly bored. Sighing she absentmindedly stroked Crookshanks who was curled in her lap. It was good to have him back at least, and her own clothes. She snuggled deeper into the warm robe that enveloped her slim frame. No more silky nighties for her. Oh no, she was back to comfortable, reliable flannel pajamas. Giving another despondent sigh she rose, sending a disgruntled Crookshanks tumbling to the floor. Giving an indignant swish of his bottle brush tail he turned and left, shooting her a very human look of disdain over his shoulder.
"Don't look at me like that." Hermione mumbled sullenly as she wandered over towards the window her hands tucked into the deep pockets of the burgundy robe.
Three days she'd been here, and nothing. No death eater attacks, no owls, no messages from Ron or Ginny or Harry, no news. She had been completely cut off from the outside. In fact if Draco weren't here she would be reduced to talking to Crookshanks, Hermione frowned, shooting a quick glance at her orange familiar who had lain down at the foot of her bed, well, talk to him more then she already did at least. After all, when she and Draco spoke it was generally insulting one another; she definitely couldn't call it scintillating conversation. She gave a worried frown recalling a 'conversation' that they had had yesterday in the library that was adjacent to their rooms.
Hermione was seated on the soft green couch, her legs curled beneath her as she studied the text in front of her intently. A merrily burning fire in the grate kept the room from chill and the occasional snap and pop of wood being consumed by the hungry flames was the only sound in the still room besides the periodic rasp of paper as Hermione turned another page. Hermione was engrossed in her book, drowsily content, the warmth of the fire and the printed words before her lulling her into a light stupor, when suddenly the door opposite the one that lead to her room was thrown violently open and Draco came storming in, his face tumultuous. Spotting her he stopped dead in his tracks
"You!" he sneered, crossing his arms over his chest.
Hermione looked up from the thick volume in her lap, blinking sleepily.
"Well hello to you to." She said sarcastically, looking back down at her book, there was little sting behind her words, she knew from the expression on his face, and the purple bruise that had bloomed across his left cheek that Lucius had finished the conversation started in the study several nights ago. It hadn't gone Draco's way judging from the looks of things.
"What are you doing here?" he snarled angrily, not moving from where he stood, feet planted, patented Malfoy pout in place. He had come here to be alone, and didn't it figure that the mudblood was here to ruin that as well?
"Reading." Hermione answered matter-o-factly turning another page in her book, for all appearances intent on her book, but she was still acutely aware of Draco's presence, and the soft noises he made as he shifted his stance, preparing to take a step towards her.
"Well, read elsewhere." He snapped, approaching her seat with menacing, slow steps
"No thank you." Hermione replied, eyes still glued on the gracefully inked words on the page "I'm quite comfortable where I am."
"Look at me when I speak to you." Draco snapped, a single pale hand coming down to rest on the pages of the book with enough force to make Hermione start, his long fingers splayed out creasing and wrinkling the fine, near-translucent, vellum paper.
Finally she looked up at him, her heart thudding in her chest like the wings of a caged bird against the bars of its prison as she met his steely eyes. Her breath caught in her throat as she studied his expression, for the briefest of moments, she saw his father in him, not just in features, but in the emotion, in the anger, and for that moment, she could see him donning the robes of the death eater, and taking his place beside his father. A mirror image.
Before her was a man who could kill her without hesitation, without regret, a man who could slaughter hundreds of innocents without batting a lash, a man who would follow orders. And then all of a sudden the illusion faded and it was only Draco who stood before her, angry and afraid, helpless and lost. Tearing her eyes away from his pale face, and the pain she saw there her eyes sought for something she could fix her attention on, a life raft she could latch onto, and her eyes fell on his hands.
Hermione was struck by the contrast, slender, and elegant, his were the hands of an artist, or a surgeon, hands that should have been creating beautiful works of arts, or guiding a needle through fragile pale flesh, stitching together a life, but instead they were destroying the pages of the book, ripping and tearing.
"Get your hands off the book Malfoy." She bit the words off, angrier with him then was reasonable. How could he destroy when he had such potential to build? It was a waste, he was a waste.
"It's my book mudblood, and I'll put my hand on it if I wish." He lashed out, he was aching and it was only fair to make her hurt as he hurt, he didn't want to be alone in this. He was always alone, and he was tired of it.
Hermione barely suppressed the urge to flinch back, and ashamed of her irrational reaction she lashed out,
"Look you shallow, inbred little ferret, I don't care whose book it is, it's a matter of principle. You don't damage books."
Draco gave her a startled look "I am not inbred!" he growled indignantly
"Oh please, of course you are, what other reason is there for you to be so pale and thin and sickly looking…not to mention your mental capabilities are somewhat below par."
Draco's pale face flamed a violent pink, but when he answered his voice was calm, terrifyingly so, as he deliberately removed his hand from the pages of the book
"Just because my father has taken an interest in you, does not give you the right to speak to me in that tone of voice. You're nothing but a filthy mudblood and you should learn to speak to your betters with respect." He intoned softly, a small cat like smile curving his lips.
Hermione's nostrils flared indignantly. He had no right to speak to her in such a way! Vaulting out of the chair, nimble and quick she turned on him, fought the urge to move as far away from him as she could get, fought the urge to turn and run and keep running, never looking back.
"Haven't you been listening to your father Draco?" she queried, her voice sweet "I'm a pureblood now, you're no better than me."
Draco growled, taking a menacing step forward. Hermione flinched backwards, her bravado melting away leaving her eyes panicked and terrified for a brief moment before the walls came back up, her gold-speckled eyes once again unreadable. Draco stopped dead in his tracks, confused by that brief moment of vulnerability he had seen on her face.
"What…?" he trailed off, bewildered as she took another step away from him, clutching the book to her chest.
She inhaled sharply through her nose, struggling to regain her composure. 'I'm okay, I'm okay' she chanted in her mind. She was okay. But her pounding heart gave testament to her weakness, her fear. She was okay.
She wasn't. She wasn't okay. But she would be.
"Stay the hell away from me Draco." She snarled furious with herself. With him. Then she turned on her heel and left, leaving a perplexed Draco to stare at the spot she had just vacated.
Females can't live with them, cant' turn them into a frog…although...Draco sat down heavily on the couch, a calculating smile adorning his pale features. Sighing, he stretched out fully on the couch, leaning his head back he gave another tiny smile, couldn't hurt to dream could it?
Growling in frustration Hermione moved away from the window. She needed to get out of this house. Yes it was lovely, yes her room was an exception from the biased theme of the house, yes she had books, yes she had her own clothes and her cat, but she didn't have her freedom.
Something she needed more then anything else. Even when she still lived with the Grangers, she was free to leave the house, go sit in the backyard by herself and read. She couldn't discuss magic, the Grangers had been absolutely appalled by their brief encounters with the Wizarding world, and she certainly couldn't have Ron of Harry over (the Grangers had found the two boys' manners appalling) but she was always free to go where she pleased (to a certain extent), but not here.
She couldn't go anywhere without being watched, and something she valued almost as much as her freedom was her privacy (also non-existent what with the house elves in her room at all hours of the day and night and Draco who didn't even bother to knock before coming into her room anymore.
Hermione awoke in stages, first she became aware of the cool air that blew across her arms and face, then she noticed the weight on her chest, Crookshanks, she smiled sleepily, it was then she heard the voice.
"Miss? Miss?" the weight on her stomach which she assumed was Crookshanks shifted.
Since when did Crookshanks talk? Her sleep dulled mind wondered. There was no denying he was as exceptionally intelligent cat, but she had never heard him speak before.
"MISS!" the voice came again, more insistent this time, it was then Hermione realized it couldn't possibly be Crookshanks speaking.
Her eyes snapped open, greeted by the startling sight of a green thing sitting on her chest, its bulbous eyes centimeters away from her own, and its long skinny nose jabbing her collar bones. Giving an undignified shriek, Hermione tumbled off of the bed, the creature which had leaped off her chest seconds before she hit the ground, hovered in midair above her, it's toga like garment fluttered in the cool air which came from her opened window.
"Miss? Is you okay miss?" Hermione looked up, and her mind no longer fuzzy with sleep corrected her earlier assumption, this was not a thing, but a house-elf.
"Yes, yes, fine." Hermione managed, scrambling to her feet "Can I help you…?" she let the query trail off as she straightened her pajamas and smoothed her fly away hair.
"I is called Gradie, Miss!"
Hermione managed a quivering smile, her heart still pounding, "What can I do for you Gradie?" she queried kindly
"Gradie has a letter for you Miss!" the house-elf crowed proudly, brandishing a thick envelop.
Reaching up to where Gradie hovered at eye level, she took the letter from her, sparing a glance at the front of the envelope she blinked at the crest adorning the front and the address; Hermione Bennett, fifth floor bedroom, Malfoy Manor. Her Hogwarts letter.
"Thank you Gradie" she said and the house-elf disappeared with a loud crack and a puff of smoke.
Still standing she tore the top off the envelop and removed the letter, and list, and finally her shining silver Prefects badge, she grinned foolishly at the shining silver vestment to all her hard work. She let the envelope fall to the floor; she didn't even bother to read what was written on the parchment, but clutched the papers to her chest and ran across her room and out the door in search of Draco. She was going to Diagon Alley; she was getting out of this damn house.
XOXOXOXOXOXO
Hermione was sent sprawling out across the sooty flagstone hearth of the Leaky Cauldron, and for once she was glad of the scrapes and bruises she attained while attempting to use the floo. It assured her that this was real; she was really out of that horrible house. Rubbing her bruised hip bone absentmindedly she stepped off to the side of the fireplace and awaited Draco's arrival, looking around the dismal little pub with a pleased grin plastered to her face. Mere moments passed before the fireplace belched green flames and Draco stepped gracefully out of the fireplace, and not for the first time Hermione envied him his composure and the ease with which he moved, his grace and his poise.
Sparing a quick glance for Draco over her shoulder, Hermione moved slowly across the dimly lit room, her eyes drinking in the sights she had been starving for. A squat witch wrapped in purple silk robes, her matching pointed hat, which was almost as tall she, perched jauntily on top of a full head of blonde curls, spelled so firmly in place they wouldn't have moved in a tornado.
An incrediably tall warlock with dark skin that gleamed like polished ebony in the half light was bent over his drink and staring into the depths of the amber liquid with an inscrutable expression on his exotic face. Tom the stooped inn keeper, who was half-heartedly running a damp towel over the perpetually dirty bar top didn't even look up as they crossed through the room and made there way out towards the entry to Diagon Ally. It was good to be back.
XOXOXOXOXO
Draco hated this.
The horrible dingy, dirty pub. The hideous bar keeper. The shady characters. The smell. All of it. The crowds in Diagon Alley, the 'hustle and bustle' the quaint little shops. Draco shifted the heavy bags he held, and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his forefinger finger; all Diagon Alley did was give him a sodding head ache. He had told his father to just let Granger go on her own, but oh no, he got to play babysitter to the bushy haired mudblood. But still he could use this opportunity to ease the curiosity that had been gnawing on his subconscious with increasing fervor since the day in St. Mungo's.
"What's going on with you and Potter?" he queried abruptly, curiosity taking precedence over tact and more Slytherin methods of extracting information.
"Hm?" Hermione said, her attention clearly elsewhere
"You. Potter." Draco said with a curl of his pale lip
"Oh." She said absent mindedly, shifting the bags in her arms to reach a hand up and push away a strand of fluffy brown hair which had escaped the confines of the thick braid that hung down her back, like a rope…or a noose, Draco mused. "Not much really," she shrugged her shoulders "we've been dating since the Yule Ball last year." She mused more to herself then to him.
"So you guy haven't…done anything?" Draco continued in his vein of blunt questioning,
"What?" Hermione questioned, her pale face blank
"You know…" Draco gave a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows
Hermione felt her face flush as his meaning became clear "I…I don't see how it's any of your business." She stammered indignantly
"You're a Malfoy woman now" he forced the lie out "and Malfoy's protect their own…I just wanted to know what Potter's…intentions were." Draco paused; his lips curled up into a cat like smirk "Still even though you obviously haven't done anything, you are not to see him without my father or me present."
Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously "I am not a possession for you to…to…lock up and protect. I shall do what I want, with who I want, when I want." Hermione said indignantly, even though the thought of having an excuse not to see Harry had great appeal, she was a feminist at heart, and no cocky, pig headed, chauvinistic ferret was going to tell her what to do.
"Don't be so sure of that Granger." Draco said cockily
Hermione gave an indignant "humph!" turned on her heel and stomped away from him.
Draco suppressed a growl, no one walked away from him, especially not a mudblood woman. He followed after her, discontent with the information he had not been able to gather. So they hadn't done anything. While he did have some ulterior motives for wanting to know that, that wasn't his purpose for question her had been. He wanted to know who had put the fear in her eyes, the fear he had saw when they had argued in the library, he wanted to know who had changed her from that brazen, fire spewing, know it all monster she had been at thirteen, the one who could stare him down without batting an eyelash, the one who would could make him squirm uncomfortably in his seat just by aiming that cool, appraising stare at him. The one who could beat the crap out of him, he admitted ruefully. What had changed her?
He shook off these almost...admiring thoughts and frowned after her.
What did it matter that she had a nice arse? She was still an annoying know it all. Draco glared at the young woman as she weaved awkwardly through the crowds, bogged down with heavy bags filled with potion supplies, her fluffy brown hair bobbing in and out of his line of sight as he elbowed past stinking, dirty witches and warlocks. He grimaced as he brushed against yet another passerby. He wanted to go back to his quite room where he wasn't forced to interact with these…people. Losing patience with having to keep an eye on her, he lengthed his stride and came abreast with her, wrapped a pale hand around her upper arm and didn't spare her a glance as he felt her body stiffen at his touch.
"Lets get what we came here to get, and go." He snarled at her through pale lips as his steely eyes scanned the shops on either side of them. Being in crowds made him uncomfortable, he didn't like the feeling of having his back unprotected. Or the crowds, his eyes moved restlessly along the crowd, oh yes, he hated the crowd.
"Here!"
Hermione's voice and the "gentle pressure" of a bony finger being stabbed repeatedly into his back got his attention. Looking down at the fuzzy headed twit who had the nerve to lay her dirty, mudblood hands on his pure, noble person, he growled, an annoyed rumble in his chest.
"What?" he snapped, irritated
"Come on, let's get our books." Hermione said enthusiastically, already moving away from him towards Flourish and Blots.
Inside the shop was warm, with the heat of so many bodies, and well lit, the smell of dust and ink pervaded the large space, making Hermione glow with anticipation. Draco sneered at the rapturous expression on her face as she beheld the floor to ceiling book cases; it wasn't half as impressive as the main library back at the manor, although Hermione hadn't seen that yet, Draco reminded himself, and when she did…well, it was probably as close to an orgasm as she could get.
"I'm going to get my school books and then browse around a little." Hermione said loudly, struggling to be heard over the noise of the crowd.
"Fine." Draco sneered, after all…how much trouble could she get into in a book shop?
Draco obviously didn't know Hermione very well.
XOXOXOXOXOXO
Hermione hugged the stack of books she was carrying close to her body, relishing the feel of the stiff spines pressing into her, and the feel of smooth leather book bindings on her hands and arms. There was nothing Hermione Granger loved more then a good book. Smiling she wandered through the aisles made by the book shelves, idly she scanned the titles on the spines in her line of sight. Perhaps she could find something, Hermione smiled at the jingle of money in her pocket; she still had a few galleons to spend.
Only looking half heartedly, trying to maintain the feeling of satisfaction that came only when one had arms filled with books, and the ability to buy more, she was surprised when a book caught her eye almost immediately.
"Complex, Confounding, Contrary, and Cataclysmic Charms" (A/N: alliteration is fun!) she read aloud, intrigued and amused by the title.
Shifting the stack of books in her arms she reached up to grab the book when she heard her name.
"Hermione!" a loud voice boomed across the room
Starting, Hermione whirled around, dropping her books in the process. Her heart pounding she forced a smile as the owner of the voice came sprinting into view, closely followed by another.
"Ron!" she exclaimed, she had to force the next name out, as if something were lodged in her throat, cotton balls, perhaps…or fear "Harry!" she smiled, her heart pounding and her cheery voice sounding forced even to her own ears.
She forced another smile as the tall, gawky red head enveloped her in a warm hug, lifting her off the ground and whirling her around, making her feel as weightless as a puff of cotton, before setting her back down on her feet. Hermione hurriedly removed her hands from his shoulders where she had placed them during the heady flight courtesy of one Ronald Weasley, and took a step back, her face still frozen in a smile. A warm hand placed on her shoulder made her turn.
"Hermione." Harry said warmly. Possessively, thought Hermione, as he stepped forward and enclosed her in a small proper hug, nothing that would be construed as morally objectionable, but Hermione still felt as if he had raped her, violated her, had ripped her clothes off and left her naked, cold, and unprotected, and in a sense he had. He had stripped her off her defenses and left her vulnerable to his attack. His quick embrace was as disconcerting, and shocking as Ron's, despite the fact that her feet never left the ground. He released her from the embrace and took a step back, but left one arm wrapped around her slim waist, keeping her tucked in close to his, tall, lean body.
"What are you doing here Hermione?" Ron queried cordially, peering down at her curiously from where he towered a good foot over her.
Hermione forced another smile, trying to keep her body from stiffening as it came in contact with Harry.
"Just getting my school books." She replied affably, sparing a brief moment to study Ron.
She hadn't been able to visit the Burrow that summer and in the two month she since she had seen him last, he had grown taller. He was still lanky despite the considerable amounts of food he shoveled into his mouth daily, and his large hands and feet gave him a gawky, unfinished air. He still had a lot of growing left to do, he still hadn't filled out at all, he looked like a bean pole compared to the twins who were stocky, and compact.
Harry gave her a gentle squeeze, as if to remind her he was there. How could she forget?
Smiling down at her he queried "Who did you come here with? Your parents?"
Hermione's smile slowly faded from her face, and just as she was about to answer, another voice smoothly interrupted her
"Not exactly." The silky, masculine voice said, and a cool hand wrapped around Hermione's arm and pulled her away from Harry.
The expressions on the Weasel and Potty's faces were priceless, but Draco kept his face composed, though he was sure his eyes were glinting with the surprised laughter.
"Malfoy?" Ron asked dumbfounded, his mouth gaping open
Harry's startling green eyes flashed dangerously as he studied Draco, and the expression in them turned down right murderous when his eyes landed on Draco's hand which was now resting on Hermione's shoulder possessively.
"Yes Weasel?" Draco snickered
"What are you doing here?" Ron asked
"Escorting the newest addition to the Malfoy family." He sneered
Ron's ears turned red as he stared at Draco, and then his eyes slowly drifted to Hermione, her head was bent and she was staring at her feet, her arms crossed over her chest, the Malfoy signet ring Draco had put on her finger in London was clearly visible on her left hand, his eyes continued on their journey to the hand Draco had placed on Hermione's shoulder. And he leapt to entirely wrong conclusion.
"You…you…you're married?" he asked shocked
Hermione's head snapped up, shock written plainly on his face "No Ron-" she managed before he cut her off,
"They forced you Hermione? What am I talking about? Of course they forced you, was it the imperius curse?" He reached forward and grabbed her arms, pulling her away from Draco "Or did they threaten you…or us? I can't-" Hermione cut him off
"No! Ron! We're not married!" she cried
Ron released her arms "Oh…" he said weakly "well…that's a relief." He finished lamely
Harry stepped forward, his lips pressed tightly together, and when he spoke Draco had to control the urge to jump, Harry had been so quiet he almost forgot he was there.
"Hermione?" his voice was steely as he studied her face "Why are you here with Malfoy?"
Draco could feel Hermione's nervousness, her fear. He could see it in the way she shifted uncomfortably, from foot to foot. It was evident in her rigid posture, clear for all to see in her almost imperceptibly shaking hands. Subtle things, apparent only to those who were used to looking for weaknesses in their prey. But in this case, she wasn't his prey, but Harry's.
"Well you see…" Hermione mumbled, silently damning Harry for backing her into a corner, damning Draco for forcing her hand, damning Ron for being so horribly oblivious to the mounting tension "my parents aren't really the Grangers…" she trailed off, her words sounding scripted, as if she were in one of those muggle soap operas her mum...Mrs. Granger…was addicted to.
Yes that was it…a soap opera, this whole thing seemed so unbelievable…so unreal.
"Eh?" Ron asked, scratching his head in thought "Then who are your parents?"
Hermione almost groaned, this was definitely a soap opera, complete with horrible plot and equally horrible script.
"The…um…the Bennett's. You know…the aurors?" A long silence ensued and Hermione continued to babble, attempting to cover up that shocked silence, she tried not to show how unnerved she was by Harry's silence, tried to ignore that sinking feeling in her stomach as Harry's face remained impassive, she knew there would be hell to pay, but she continued in a distant voice, as if it wasn't happening to her, as if she was telling a story "well…my mother she…she was Narcissa's sister…and…they…um…they're my guardians…because my parents are…dead." She finished lamely, her eyes fixed on the pile of books she had dropped behind Ron's feet.
The silence seemed to stretch on for an eternity, before finally Harry stepped forward and embraced her stiff frame, successfully detaching her from Draco's side.
"Oh Hermione" he mumbled into her neck "I'm so sorry." He continued with false sincerity.
Hermione smiled weakly at him, her heart pounding "You're not…angry?" she queried uncertainly.
Harry looked shocked "Of course not Hermione, it wasn't your fault." He crooned reassuringly into her fluffy hair "It wasn't your fault" he repeated soothingly, running a hand up and down her back as if he was comforting a small child.
They remained like that for a moment, Ron and Draco both staring at the couple, trying to suppress the jealousy that bloomed in their hearts at the sight.
"Come on Hermione…lets get out of here, we can go talk." Harry whispered, his hands were still where they rested on her back
"Okay." She whispered in reply, her head resting on his shoulder, her eyes glued to the floor.
Harry released Hermione from the embrace, but left one arm wrapped securely around her waist, like a chain, Hermione mused to herself, or a sea anchor.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Draco watched calmly as Harry lead Hermione out of the store, not allowing the impotent rage and jealousy he felt to show on his face, although his pale hands were balled into fists, the only outward sign of his tumultuous emotions. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of red hair, the Weasel. He turned his head ever so slightly so as to better observe lanky youth, and what he saw there on that freckled face was a reflection, his own emotions mirrored there, distorted yes, but there, except Ron's were plain for all the world to see, written on his face, etched into his eyes, and engraved in his skin. He was jealous. Jealous just as Draco was, perhaps even more so.
Perhaps there was trouble brewing in paradise? Maybe the glow of the golden trio was beginning to fade? Draco gave Ron, who was still staring forlornly in the direction Harry and Hermione had headed, one last considering look, before stooping down and retrieving his and Hermione's bags and books and followed after Hermione and Harry.
AN: I'm not even going to apologize for how late this was…okay yes I am…I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…words can't even express my SORROW. I don't even know how long it's been since my last update, but I haven't been exactly motivated. The amount of reviews wasn't exactly…overwhelming. But to those of you who DID review I LOVE YOU!!!
48 pages for ya'll…and I cut it SHORT.
Draco: Why couldn't you have just abandoned this horrible story?
Hermione: it really is horrible
OA: …I know…I'm sorry
Draco: sorry isn't good enough
OA: ::lip tremble:: I'm really, really, really, REALLY sorry ::throws herself at Draco and cries on his shoulder::
Draco: Get off me! Get off me! ::beats author::
Hermione: ::snorts with laughter::
OA: Give me your gorgeous strong shoulder to cry on!
Draco: GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME YOU BATTY WOMAN!
OA: ::makes kissy faces::
Draco: AVADA KEDAVERA!!!!
OA: aw…you didn't do it as convincingly as Daniel did his patronus in the Third Harry Potter movie!
Draco: …I'm a sexy, dark wizard not an actor…and wasn't that your cue to die?
OA: oh right… ::dies::
Draco: THANKyou
Hermione: Finally
Look folks, I'm going to level with you, I'm really not that excited about this story anymore. I need reviews. PLEASE review
Kiss kiss
Annie
NEXT TIME: expect yet more jealousy, angst, and betrayal YAAAAY ::blows noisemaker::