[Author's note: To those that reviewed, thanks for the interest.
To chibimecools, thanks for the vote of confidence about my songwriting abilities. Nevertheless, you will probably see actual song lyrics or modified song lyrics]
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Disclaimer: All characters are owned by JKR.
Plot: Draco/Hermione. Don't like it? Go somewhere else. This is my story. And I did warn you in the summary. As for the actual plot being original, no one has a copyright on the entire school idea. If so, Hollywood would be in serious trouble
Chapter 3: Roll the Curtain
Hermione saw him exit the Prefect's compartment and waited a few seconds so that she wouldn't have to run into him in the hallway. She was mildly grateful that he hadn't contradicted her during her explanations to the Prefects, working to undermine her authority as Head Girl. On the other hand, he hadn't uttered a single word either, so she had been stuck doing the job all by herself. A light went off in her head saying that it also made her look like his lackey. Hermione scowled at that thought.
What she needed was some sympathy. Without thinking twice about it, she headed to where Harry, Ron and Ginny were. She found them doing exactly the same thing they were doing when she left them, talking Quidditch strategy. Ginny, however, being more observant noticed her expression as she entered the compartment.
"What's wrong Hermione?" Ginny asked, her voice peaked with concern.
"Bloody Malfoy," she muttered angrily, sitting down with a flop next to her. Crookshanks purred and got up from Ginny's lap and curled up in Hermione's instead. Out of habit, she started to stroke his fur, the repetitive motion soothing her nerves. Crookshanks just purred louder.
Both Harry and Ron stopped talking and turned to look at her.
"He's the Head Boy," Ginny divined astutely, with a glimmer in her eyes, reading between the lines. She looked interestedly at Hermione, whose cheeks were flushed although she was quickly regaining her composure.
"The ferret? Poor Hermione," Ron said consolingly, with a shake of his head, his red spiky hair waving a bit. Some point during their sixth year, Ron had taken to wearing his hair short and spiky. It suited him better than having a mop of red fair flapping around him. Ginny and Hermione both agreed that it was a much more flattering look.
Harry's green eyes turned troubled and he scowled. He didn't like Malfoy one bit better despite his father being locked up in Azkhaban. It didn't matter that he no longer got into fist fights with him at school. Malfoy had been a royal pain in his arse throughout his entire school career, ready with a taunt or a jeer. More importantly, he still couldn't forgive Malfoy for his strutting during the fifth year when that horrible Umbridge woman had taken over.
Oh sure now Malfoy was different. With his music and his band with adoring fans, Harry thought with a grimace. But a snake was a snake, even with the fangs weren't bared. Just because you saw a snake lying peacefully in the ground didn't mean it wasn't dangerous. And Malfoy was always plotting something. He didn't like the fact that Hermione would be in close quarters with that conniving wanker. He wondered what Dumbledore was thinking.
"It must be a plan Dumbledore has. You know, keeping an eye out on that ruddy lot," Harry wondered aloud, frowning. That was the only logical explanation. Why else? Harry, Ron and Hermione were almost part of the Order. The war was brewing. Obviously, Dumbledore needed to keep his tabs on the Slytherins in Hogwarts. Particularly those whose had notorious Death Eater parents.
"You could just hex him you know," Ron said helpfully, Harry's words not registering into his brain.
Hermione immediately seized up on Harry's words and thier implications. "That must be it!" she exclaimed, a little relieved and excited. She probably was spying for Dumbledore. After all, everyone knew that the fruit never fell far from the tree. And Malfoy was as rotten as they came. Besides, she knew that it was only a matter time before the war between Voldemort's supporters and the Order erupted out into the open. It would become very useful to know what the ins and outs of the Slytherins were. This was a subtle way for Dumbledore to place one of his allies close enough to the Slytherins without suspecting. You could hardly blame the Head Master for chosing the two smartest students as Head Boy and Girl.
"You'll let us know if that bastard gives you any trouble, won't you?" Harry voiced his concern.
Hermione smiled fondly at both of her friends. They were so quick to defend her and step in with their fists swinging even if she was perfectly capable of handling it by herself. Sometimes, it was mildly annoying, did they really think she couldn't handle it on her own? But boys will be boys. They would feel the need to protect her. This is what Ginny must feel when dealing with her brothers, she thought wryly. "Of course," she said.
"Not that I can't handle him on my own, mind you," she added quickly, noting the mischevious pleasure that both Ron's and Harry's eyes got at the thought to beating Malfoy to a bloody pulp. "I'll just take Ron's suggestion and hex him to hell and back," she said with a little mischevious glee of her own.
Everyone had to laugh at that. Hermione's magical proficiencies were well known. There wasn't a spell she couldn't manage, including complex spells that gave most adult wizards and witches problems. Both Harry and Ron hated to think of what Hermione could be able to do if she actually put her mind to it. The thought of Draco Malfoy spitting up slugs while suffering from the Jellylegs hex combined with his face covered in sprouts sent both of the boys into peals of laughter. Harry almost wished that Malfoy would piss Hermione off to that extent. The pictures would be priceless.
"But I don't want to antagonize him too much. I want to find out as much as I can for Dumbledore's sake. Anything useful to help out the cause," Hermione said, sobering up.
Harry nodded his head. It would be hard to be able to report the coming and goings of the Slytherins if you simply didn't see them at all. "Just be careful, Hermione. He's a treacherous, untrustworthy Slytherin."
"Don't worry Harry. I know who and what he is," Hermione said decisively.
Meanwhile, Ginny held her tongue. She wondered that Dumbledore's only reason was to have the Order be able to spy on the Slytherins. Ultimately, Dumbledore's ideal was to have the world live in a peaceful order, wizards and muggles alike. Perhaps he was roadtesting his theory out, a miniexperiment so to speak. She also didn't think that Hermione had Malfoy all figured out like she claimed she did, but she wasn't going to say that outright. Unlike Hermione, she actually paid attention to Malfoy's music and there was more going on underneath the surface than one would expect. Not that she was going to tell Ron or Harry that she fancied Malfoy's music. She would never hear the end of it.
Crookshanks just kept purring contentedly, his eyes blinking slowly.
Draco sat in the Head Boy and Girl compartment, strumming his guitar and putting the finishing touches to the song he had started earlier. He couldn't wait until he had his own room as Head Boy to be able to practice in peace and quiet. The Slytherin common room was not good for practice, or for peace and quiet. He would just get mauled by some girl or another. He preferred to work in silence, and actually get work done. When he wanted to seduce a girl with his music, he would do that. Silly chits didn't know the difference.
He sneered a little at the thought of sharing the Head Boy and Girl common room with the annoying holier-than-thou mudblood Granger. Although, he thought derisively, she probably wouldn't spend too much time there. She positively lived in the library and when she wasn't there, the Golden Trio was practically attached at the elbows. When they weren't having one of their public and rather dramatic squabbles. Really, embarassing the way the three of them would fight, like toddlers just out of their nappies. But he should expect as much from hot-headed Gryffindors.
And they still remained together, united through thick and thin. That's probably where she was now, being consoled by her two friends and bemoaning how she would have to put up with the big bad Malfoy all year long, he smiled without mirth. It was going to be amusing upbraiding her all year. He had been nice during the Prefect meeting, not saying a word. But then again, he didn't want to overplay his hand quite so soon. It was easier when you lulled them into a false sense of security.
Nevermind that at some point during the meeting, his mind had becomed lulled by the sound of her voice, following the rising and falling of the cadences of her words as she talked warmly and animatedly to the Prefects. Or that he could admire the reflection of sunlight on her brown hair, the sunlight shooting golden highlights into her curls. Or that he appreciated the graceful arch of her neck. He was a Malfoy, he had been taught to appreciate aesthetic qualities, even if they were from a dubious source.
Regardless, she would nevertheless provide an interesting distraction from his music or Slytherin related activities. IF he ever saw her. The girl all but showered in the Library. There had been plenty of times when he had come across her in a deep recess or an obscure nook of the gargantuan Library, trying to find a quiet place where he could do his own work. If she even noticed that he had stumbled upon him, she would just glare at him and they would exchange a few choice words before one of them left. Of course, he made it a point of honor to make her leave. But more often than not, she was absorbed in her schoolwork that she didn't even notice that he had come across her. Occasionally, she would be using a book that he needed himself. Then it would become an entertaining tug of war. She really had no respect for him. Sometimes, she looked at him with downright loathing in her eyes.
Pretentious little mudblood, he thought a little angrily. She thought she was his equal merely because she was so adept at magic. And to this date, she was one of the few people that had ever stood up to him in public. He had to grudgingly admire how she stood her ground. Too many people cowered in fear or followed his orders blindly. It was nice to have a challenge once in a while.
Although he still had not forgotten how she had slapped him. Twice.
No one had ever dared slap him before. Not even his own mother.
But then again, his parents had always been able to do much better than that.
To chibimecools, thanks for the vote of confidence about my songwriting abilities. Nevertheless, you will probably see actual song lyrics or modified song lyrics]
------ ------ -----
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by JKR.
Plot: Draco/Hermione. Don't like it? Go somewhere else. This is my story. And I did warn you in the summary. As for the actual plot being original, no one has a copyright on the entire school idea. If so, Hollywood would be in serious trouble
Chapter 3: Roll the Curtain
Hermione saw him exit the Prefect's compartment and waited a few seconds so that she wouldn't have to run into him in the hallway. She was mildly grateful that he hadn't contradicted her during her explanations to the Prefects, working to undermine her authority as Head Girl. On the other hand, he hadn't uttered a single word either, so she had been stuck doing the job all by herself. A light went off in her head saying that it also made her look like his lackey. Hermione scowled at that thought.
What she needed was some sympathy. Without thinking twice about it, she headed to where Harry, Ron and Ginny were. She found them doing exactly the same thing they were doing when she left them, talking Quidditch strategy. Ginny, however, being more observant noticed her expression as she entered the compartment.
"What's wrong Hermione?" Ginny asked, her voice peaked with concern.
"Bloody Malfoy," she muttered angrily, sitting down with a flop next to her. Crookshanks purred and got up from Ginny's lap and curled up in Hermione's instead. Out of habit, she started to stroke his fur, the repetitive motion soothing her nerves. Crookshanks just purred louder.
Both Harry and Ron stopped talking and turned to look at her.
"He's the Head Boy," Ginny divined astutely, with a glimmer in her eyes, reading between the lines. She looked interestedly at Hermione, whose cheeks were flushed although she was quickly regaining her composure.
"The ferret? Poor Hermione," Ron said consolingly, with a shake of his head, his red spiky hair waving a bit. Some point during their sixth year, Ron had taken to wearing his hair short and spiky. It suited him better than having a mop of red fair flapping around him. Ginny and Hermione both agreed that it was a much more flattering look.
Harry's green eyes turned troubled and he scowled. He didn't like Malfoy one bit better despite his father being locked up in Azkhaban. It didn't matter that he no longer got into fist fights with him at school. Malfoy had been a royal pain in his arse throughout his entire school career, ready with a taunt or a jeer. More importantly, he still couldn't forgive Malfoy for his strutting during the fifth year when that horrible Umbridge woman had taken over.
Oh sure now Malfoy was different. With his music and his band with adoring fans, Harry thought with a grimace. But a snake was a snake, even with the fangs weren't bared. Just because you saw a snake lying peacefully in the ground didn't mean it wasn't dangerous. And Malfoy was always plotting something. He didn't like the fact that Hermione would be in close quarters with that conniving wanker. He wondered what Dumbledore was thinking.
"It must be a plan Dumbledore has. You know, keeping an eye out on that ruddy lot," Harry wondered aloud, frowning. That was the only logical explanation. Why else? Harry, Ron and Hermione were almost part of the Order. The war was brewing. Obviously, Dumbledore needed to keep his tabs on the Slytherins in Hogwarts. Particularly those whose had notorious Death Eater parents.
"You could just hex him you know," Ron said helpfully, Harry's words not registering into his brain.
Hermione immediately seized up on Harry's words and thier implications. "That must be it!" she exclaimed, a little relieved and excited. She probably was spying for Dumbledore. After all, everyone knew that the fruit never fell far from the tree. And Malfoy was as rotten as they came. Besides, she knew that it was only a matter time before the war between Voldemort's supporters and the Order erupted out into the open. It would become very useful to know what the ins and outs of the Slytherins were. This was a subtle way for Dumbledore to place one of his allies close enough to the Slytherins without suspecting. You could hardly blame the Head Master for chosing the two smartest students as Head Boy and Girl.
"You'll let us know if that bastard gives you any trouble, won't you?" Harry voiced his concern.
Hermione smiled fondly at both of her friends. They were so quick to defend her and step in with their fists swinging even if she was perfectly capable of handling it by herself. Sometimes, it was mildly annoying, did they really think she couldn't handle it on her own? But boys will be boys. They would feel the need to protect her. This is what Ginny must feel when dealing with her brothers, she thought wryly. "Of course," she said.
"Not that I can't handle him on my own, mind you," she added quickly, noting the mischevious pleasure that both Ron's and Harry's eyes got at the thought to beating Malfoy to a bloody pulp. "I'll just take Ron's suggestion and hex him to hell and back," she said with a little mischevious glee of her own.
Everyone had to laugh at that. Hermione's magical proficiencies were well known. There wasn't a spell she couldn't manage, including complex spells that gave most adult wizards and witches problems. Both Harry and Ron hated to think of what Hermione could be able to do if she actually put her mind to it. The thought of Draco Malfoy spitting up slugs while suffering from the Jellylegs hex combined with his face covered in sprouts sent both of the boys into peals of laughter. Harry almost wished that Malfoy would piss Hermione off to that extent. The pictures would be priceless.
"But I don't want to antagonize him too much. I want to find out as much as I can for Dumbledore's sake. Anything useful to help out the cause," Hermione said, sobering up.
Harry nodded his head. It would be hard to be able to report the coming and goings of the Slytherins if you simply didn't see them at all. "Just be careful, Hermione. He's a treacherous, untrustworthy Slytherin."
"Don't worry Harry. I know who and what he is," Hermione said decisively.
Meanwhile, Ginny held her tongue. She wondered that Dumbledore's only reason was to have the Order be able to spy on the Slytherins. Ultimately, Dumbledore's ideal was to have the world live in a peaceful order, wizards and muggles alike. Perhaps he was roadtesting his theory out, a miniexperiment so to speak. She also didn't think that Hermione had Malfoy all figured out like she claimed she did, but she wasn't going to say that outright. Unlike Hermione, she actually paid attention to Malfoy's music and there was more going on underneath the surface than one would expect. Not that she was going to tell Ron or Harry that she fancied Malfoy's music. She would never hear the end of it.
Crookshanks just kept purring contentedly, his eyes blinking slowly.
Draco sat in the Head Boy and Girl compartment, strumming his guitar and putting the finishing touches to the song he had started earlier. He couldn't wait until he had his own room as Head Boy to be able to practice in peace and quiet. The Slytherin common room was not good for practice, or for peace and quiet. He would just get mauled by some girl or another. He preferred to work in silence, and actually get work done. When he wanted to seduce a girl with his music, he would do that. Silly chits didn't know the difference.
He sneered a little at the thought of sharing the Head Boy and Girl common room with the annoying holier-than-thou mudblood Granger. Although, he thought derisively, she probably wouldn't spend too much time there. She positively lived in the library and when she wasn't there, the Golden Trio was practically attached at the elbows. When they weren't having one of their public and rather dramatic squabbles. Really, embarassing the way the three of them would fight, like toddlers just out of their nappies. But he should expect as much from hot-headed Gryffindors.
And they still remained together, united through thick and thin. That's probably where she was now, being consoled by her two friends and bemoaning how she would have to put up with the big bad Malfoy all year long, he smiled without mirth. It was going to be amusing upbraiding her all year. He had been nice during the Prefect meeting, not saying a word. But then again, he didn't want to overplay his hand quite so soon. It was easier when you lulled them into a false sense of security.
Nevermind that at some point during the meeting, his mind had becomed lulled by the sound of her voice, following the rising and falling of the cadences of her words as she talked warmly and animatedly to the Prefects. Or that he could admire the reflection of sunlight on her brown hair, the sunlight shooting golden highlights into her curls. Or that he appreciated the graceful arch of her neck. He was a Malfoy, he had been taught to appreciate aesthetic qualities, even if they were from a dubious source.
Regardless, she would nevertheless provide an interesting distraction from his music or Slytherin related activities. IF he ever saw her. The girl all but showered in the Library. There had been plenty of times when he had come across her in a deep recess or an obscure nook of the gargantuan Library, trying to find a quiet place where he could do his own work. If she even noticed that he had stumbled upon him, she would just glare at him and they would exchange a few choice words before one of them left. Of course, he made it a point of honor to make her leave. But more often than not, she was absorbed in her schoolwork that she didn't even notice that he had come across her. Occasionally, she would be using a book that he needed himself. Then it would become an entertaining tug of war. She really had no respect for him. Sometimes, she looked at him with downright loathing in her eyes.
Pretentious little mudblood, he thought a little angrily. She thought she was his equal merely because she was so adept at magic. And to this date, she was one of the few people that had ever stood up to him in public. He had to grudgingly admire how she stood her ground. Too many people cowered in fear or followed his orders blindly. It was nice to have a challenge once in a while.
Although he still had not forgotten how she had slapped him. Twice.
No one had ever dared slap him before. Not even his own mother.
But then again, his parents had always been able to do much better than that.
