[Author's Notes:
to ProwlingKitKat, I don't need to do anything. Credit is, and has been from the beginning and will continue to be, given in the disclaimer, so that real people are aware of where the song is coming from. Within the Harry Potter world, the songs could very well come from a blue polka dotted pixie with a unicorn horn that speaks French. Let it be.
to MysticalSpirits, Blaise in my fiction is the equivalent of a transsexual person/transvestite in the real world, except he uses magic to induce gender changes. I want Blaise to be as unpredictable as possible.
to xBridexOfxDraculax, thank you for pointing out your favorite lines. It gives me a better idea of what is good about my writing style so that I can improve based on that.
to everyone else, thank you for your continued readership. If you want a personal note, don't just tell me it's good... tell me why you think it's good.]
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 7: First Day of ClassesHermione woke up with a start as her alarm clock started to play the booming beginning of Carl Orff's "O Fortuna". She found out that it began quietly, the latin teasing at the fringes of her waking mind. Before she could grasp what the words were, the song had launched into its rising chorus and the booming drums that were compelling at a deep primitive level. It was like announcing the brilliant sun.She particularly liked the sound of "Fortune plango vulnera." Perhaps it was not the most uplifting of lyrics, once you translated the latin. But there was something equally powerful about the music that commanded your attention.
Like Draco Malfoy. Even his name was unpleasant. 'The Dragon Bad Faith'. Nevertheless, he was compelling. In many ways, Orff's "O Fortuna" was similar to Malfoy. Despite the darkness surrounding Orff's music, it demanded your acknowledgement. It was the same with Malfoy. You simply could not ignore him.
This brought back memories from last night. Having been caught in his room and having an almost civil conversation was enough to rattle her. For her, the most embarrassing part was that she had been barefoot. It had given the entire incident an almost personal level, like if she were comfortable around him, like if they were sharing something. It was like if he had been Ron or Harry. Of course, she was relieved that he was willing to leave their enormous enmity behind, confined to the world outside their common room. It made her personal quarters livable. And she was glad she would be able to use the bathroom and common room without worrying about her personal safety.
And she did love the idea of her personal common room. She would be able to study somewhere other than the library! Not that she had anything against the library, but it would be nice to study in a couch by the fire with a cup of hot cocoa or coffee next to her instead of those uncomfortable wooden chairs that must have belonged to a monastery because they were unnecessarily hard. Especially after several hours of sitting on them. She wouldn't have to smuggle her cocoa into the library again! She was always worried that Madame Pince would catch her and have her thrown out, disrupting her study schedule. The times that she had tried to use the Gryffindor common room, either Ron or Harry tried to distract her or tried to copy their answers from hers. Or another Gryffindor was using the common room for leisure, playing wizard's chess, running around, talking loudly with friends.
Another distinctive advantage was not having to share the bathroom with Lavender or Parvati. They always took bloody forever in the loo and used all the hot water. She had to get up extra early to sneak into the showers before all the hot water was gone. Nor would she miss their primping before the morning, putting on make up or using beauty charms. She had sometimes watched them in the mornings, getting ready and scorned their fastidiousness and their preoccupation of looking attractive for the boys. She had always felt a little torn between her scorn and the desire to imitate them, to be silly and laughing, surrounded by girl friends, worrying about boys. But instead of saying anything to Lavender or Parvati, she would just shake her head. She had more important things to worry about, like her studies and making sure that Ron or Harry didn't commit another blunder.
Besides, it was too much effort in the morning to remember to curl your eyelashes or using a charm so that your skin tone was perfectly even. She also told herself that she did not want a boy's attention merely because of the way she looked. She wanted a boy to see her for her. Even Ron and Harry had problems with that. It was not until Viktor Krum that the other Gryffindor boys, along with Ron and Harry, realized she was a girl.
She was grateful to Viktor for that. She had been flattered by his attention. He had been the first boy to ever approach her and she knew that it wasn't because of her looks. They had met in the library, and talked about school and traveling. He appreciated her intellect and her drive to succeed. She knew that she was not beautiful, despite what her parents' praise and insistence. Of course, her dad and mum thought she was beautiful, she was their child. She also suspected that Viktor also liked that, seeing that he wasn't the handsomest boy around either; but not as much as he had liked the fact that she had not befriended him because he was an internationally known Quidditch player. She had talked to him as a fellow student, intent on learning.
Thinking happy thoughts, Hermione grabbed her pink bathrobe that had faded to a light baby pink, bordering on white. She had thought about buying a new bathrobe but dismissed the idea because no one else would be seeing her in it. It was also considerably shorter than when she first bought it.
Stepping into the bathroom, she locked the connecting doors and set up a number of warding spells on them. She didn't trust Malfoy's word completely. Who would? He seemed to have given it in bad faith. She was no longer naïve or an innocent. Hermione had learned long ago that there was significant difference between words and actions. And she was not willing to give Malfoy the opportunity to prove the discrepancy.
With her hair smelling like lavender from her shampoo, her skin covered in moisturizing lotion, she put on her uniform and school robes, leaving the robes open. She spritzed some jasmine on her pulse points, gathered her schoolbag that looked like it was about to burst at its leather seams, and headed out the door to the Great Hall. She thought about putting a reinforcing charm on the seams but decided to do it later in the day. She had promised Ron and Harry she would meet them for breakfast to compare schedules.
She arrived at the Great Hall to see most of the kids streaming in for their first breakfast of the year. It was always a hearty meal, as if the students needed particular fortification against the rigorous day. Given what she knew of most of the others' summer vacations, they needed the food and coffee. She personally liked to start off the day with a big cup of coffee, eggs and bacon, buttered toast with orange marmalade and an apple. She knew that coffee was terrible for her teeth, as her dentist parents always ranted and raved about it at home but she just couldn't give up the habit. Neither could her parents as both of them were avid coffee drinkers. It was probably a good thing they were dentist or their oral hygiene would be terrible.
"Oy! Hermione!" Ron called out, waving toward her and pointing to a seat next to him, right next to Harry. His eyes were bright with excitement, which was strange because Ron was not fond of studying or classes. He had a lot to live up for, with his three elder brothers having excelled in academia. Quidditch was a little different because the entire Weasley family was quite adept. Hermione had the suspicion that Mrs. Weasley had increased the academic pressure on Ron, especially after Fred and George had decided not to finish their schooling before they started running their joke shop business.
Harry looked up from his plate of eggs and bacon and gave her a warm smile. That smile meant a lot to Hermione. There had been a period in which Harry had not smiled at all, despite their best efforts. For her, it meant that Harry had matured and was not letting the upcoming war interfere with this last year of school and adolescence.
"Hey," she said with a smile as she sat down between Ron and Harry and proceeded to serve herself her favorite breakfast.
"So what's your schedule like this year, Hermione?" Harry asked, between bites of his toast.
The last two years their schedules had varied quite a bit as they took different levels of advanced classes. She and Harry were both in Snape's N.E.W.T. potion class but Ron had opted out of taking potions. He would have done it out of loyalty but Snape wouldn't let him. Instead, Ron was taking Advanced Muggle Studies. Hermione was the only one of the three in the N.E.W.T. Arithmancy class. Ron and Harry were still taking Divination and Hermione expressed a curiosity now that Firenze was the teacher, but simply her schedule did not allow her to take another class. Harry was taking Advanced Herbology. All of them had care of Magical Creatures together, Transfiguration, Charms and DADA.
"Well, I have Arithmancy first and then it seems like we're all meeting up for DADA class," Hermione said cheerily. She really enjoyed her Arithmancy class with Professor Vector. It appealed to her precise nature. There were formulas and you could apply them to the data in front of you. She had even taken a class on Judaism over the summer when she heard her mum comment that there was a sect of Judaism that believed you could find the name of Yahweh through numbering the words of the Torah.
"How about a quick lunch after Charms and let's go outside and enjoy the last of the summer before it gets too chilly?" Harry suggested.
"I have even a better idea, why don't we take lunch outside? We can just come in and grab a whole bunch of food and eat outside!" Hermione said, pleased with Harry's suggestion.
"Bloody brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, a huge grin on his face. "We can bring out our brooms too!"
"Well, then, it's settled," Hermione said with a smile and a last gulp of coffee. "I'll see you all later!"
Both she and Seamus Finnegan rose up from the table and started their way to Professor Vector's room and talking chummily about what Seamus had done over the summer.
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Draco swept into Professor Vector's room and sat down in the back by himself, in an empty table. He was the only seventh year Slytherin taking the advanced Arithmancy class. Before, he and Blaise had sat together throughout their Arithmancy courses but Blaise had opted against taking the advanced class.
Draco did not mind in the least. He didn't feel the need to be constantly surrounded by his cronies. He was actually relieved at being the only Slytherin taking this class. He could sit in the back and just work and not have to worry about intrigues or political maneuvering. It was a good break from the rest of the day. He didn't have to put up with Crabbe or Goyle being imbecilic or matching wits with Zabini. More importantly, he didn't have to put up with Pansy's fawning or Millicent's intense lust filled gaze. He actually got the shivers from thinking about Millicent. The girl resembled a large bull that looked like she wanted nothing more than gore him to death. Perhaps he could convince Crabbe or Goyle to start dating her to get her off his back.
And despite it all, he enjoyed being away from the Slytherin quarters. He had sorely missed having his own room. Even if he had to share the bathroom and common room with an annoying know-it-all Mudblood, he knew he would see very little of her. If it were Malfoy Manor, he would have been able to avoid seeing her altogether. He certainly managed to avoid seeing his parents except for the requisite family dinner every night. He knew what it was to live in a hostile environment.
When he had been rudely awoken by her booming alarm, he had thought about hurtling himself through their connecting doors and bloody yell at her for waking up so blasted early in the morning. It didn't help that he had been up late last night and had been in the middle of one of the best wet dreams of his life. He couldn't recall her face but she had a glorious body. His lower body clenched as he remembered perfect breasts, a dainty waist and silky smooth skin. It also didn't help that his fantasy woman had been riding him for all he was worth in his dream, moving above him, her head thrown back exposing the delicate column of her neck. He had woken up with cockstand and aching all over.
Then, he had been intrigued by the music that kept playing in her bedroom. He recognized the lyrics as Latin and was surprised at the message they conveyed. He was surprised that Granger actually liked the song. It seemed something too dark, or powerful or seductive for the likes of her.
He heard her take a shower, heard the sprinkling of the water and found it a comforting sound. It reminded him of when he was a small boy and his mother would draw him a bath. It was a oddly soothing noise that he had not heard in years. So he laid in bed, looking up at his green canopy and letting sleep cling to the edges of his eyelashes.
His mind had been in this strange reminiscent mood when he entered the bathroom after she left, the scent of lavender fragrant in the room and the shower tiles still warm from the water of her shower. He found the entire scene intimate, like if they were living together. He had shaken his head, trying to clear it from memories and sensual dreams. They were sharing quarters, that was all. They had an uneasy halt to hostility. And that was the way he wanted it. He didn't want to be friends with a mudblood, especially one as annoying as she was. He certainly didn't want to find her attractive. He didn't want to lust after her. He didn't want to share anything with her.
Still the faint scent of lavender lingered in the room, and the fantastical dream he had made him edgy.
This made him curt during breakfast. Not that it had been a problem or even a detractor among his house members. Crabbe and Goyle had sat down at either side of him and proceeded to devour large quantities of everything present. It was a miracle that the school had not raised tuition rates for everyone the way those two ate. He had received the customary package from his parents, homemade goodies that his mother had no doubt had the house elves make. His face had twisted into a bitter smile and he kept the package with his school things. A reminder of what life was really about, keeping up appearances.
He opened the package up now and started nibbling on a macaroon. He gazed around the classroom and saw how small the Advanced Arithmancy class really was. There were 4 Ravenclaws, 3 Hufflepuffs, 2 Gryffindors and himself. Well, out there in the real world Arithmancy was not as practical as Charms or Transfigurations. It was a more scholarly magic. It was no longer a requirement for a ministry jobs these days.
His gaze fell on the two Gryffindors who were talking animatedly. Of course, Granger had to be one of them. The other one he recognized by the name of Seamus Finnegan. He was another mudblood, his mother was a witch and his father was a muggle. For the life of him, Draco could not understand how a witch could ever consider marrying a muggle. They were just so... ordinary. She probably had done so out of love, which just prove what a fool she was. Love was just an illusion, a trap for those that were foolish enough to fall into it. Gryffindor House was full of mudbloods, it was amazing that there were even purebloods in the house. Granted, Weasley didn't count because they were poorer than dirt. Longbottom might as well have been a squib with the amount of magic he had.
His attention turned to her, to her flushed face and her sparkling eyes. His eyes narrowed in annoyance at what Finnegan and her could possibly be discussing that she found so interesting. Finnegan, in his quick estimation, looked like a dolt. But he should have figured that Granger had poor taste in men. Besides, it wasn't bloody likely that Finnegan would be able to break up the Golden Trio. Other people tended to be intimidated by The-Boy-That-Lived-To-Be-An-Arse and Weasel King.
Before he could finish ruminating on how much he really despised the Golden Trio, Professor Vector entered the room and began to lecture. His attention immediately snapped to the front of the room as he chewed on macaroons while taking extensive notes on the class.
