Two Lives
Finally, after the long, agonizing trip, Bart pulled up outside of a ritzy, gorgeous hotel in the heart of Paris. Hermione could think of only one person she had ever met in her life that was incredibly annoying, and that was Colin Creevey. Well move aside, Colin! First place prize for incredibly annoying now goes to Bart Sanders!
"Do you need help with your bags, miss?" Bart asked, stepping out of the car and opening Hermione's door for her. He extended a hand and helped her out of the car. At least he has manners, Hermione thought. To make up for his annoyingness.
"No, I'm alright thanks." Hermione said, eager to get away from Bart.
"Okie dokey." Bart said, grinning toothily. "I suppose I'll see you at Belle Strait on the first of December! Until then, farewell!" And with that he hopped back into the car and sped away, leaving Hermione standing on the sidewalk with her luggage in one hand and Crookshanks in the other.
"Ready to begin our lives as outcasts, Crookshanks?" Hermione asked her cat. Crookshanks purred as if to say yes, which gave Hermione the slightest bit of confidence. Poised and ready, Hermione lugged her things up the marble steps of the hotel. A doorman stood ready and waiting at the entrance, smiling at Hermione and opening the door for her. She nodded to say thanks and walked through the door only to be astounded by what she saw. This was like a six-star hotel! The ceiling in the lobby must have been twenty feet high, and four floors were recognizable only by the long, swerving balconies above. Doors bordered these balconies, each door leading to a room. Of course, there were much more rooms in the hotel above these indoor balconies, but the ones that could not be seen were probably for rich, fancy people who requested three or more bedrooms with a high-quality entertainment system and an enormous refrigerator inside the gorgeous, marble kitchen. Hermione shuddered at the thought. Rich people had it so easy.
"Hello," Hermione smiled to one of the receptionists behind the glittering, golden counter in the center of the lobby. This receptionist was wearing a gorgeous blue blouse and matching skirt. Her nametag read Isabelle. Looking at all of the other receptionists and workers in general busting around, they were all wearing the same uniform Isabelle was (well, the men were wearing pants, of course).
"You must be Hermione Granger." Isabelle smiled.
"Yup, that's me." Hermione said. "I suppose you've spoken with Albus Dumbledore-"
Isabelle turned to the guy next to her. "Brad, take Miss Granger's things up to her room for her please."
Doing as he was ordered, the man called Brad flurried over to Hermione and relieved her of her luggage and Crookshanks. Hermione smiled gratefully.
"Yes, I've spoken with Mr Dumbledore." Isabelle smiled. "Everything is worked out for you. You've no need to pay for anything; it's all taken care of. Breakfast is served at seven and dinner is served at six. You are in room 714." Isabelle handed Hermione a key, smiling. "Enjoy."
Breathlessly, Hermione thanked Isabelle and made her way up to her room, noticing that it was not one of the balcony rooms. When Hermione finally reached room 714, she slid the key into the lock and opened the door to reveal a room even more spectacular then the lobby. Hermione's jaw dropped open as she realized that this would be her new home for three weeks. It was like an apartment rather than a hotel room; the bedroom could be seen on the left side of the apartment with a queen-sized bed and huge, polished oak dressers and night tables. Across from the bedroom was a large, gorgeous bathroom with lilac bath coverings and matching lilac rugs. A Jacuzzi sat in one corner of the bathroom while a sauna sat in the other. Dazed, Hermione walked back into the main living room where there actually was a huge entertainment system with comfortable looking loungers and surround sound speakers.
"I could get used to this." Hermione smiled, nodding and plopping herself down on one of the loungers with a good book to indulge herself in and forget all about Draco Malfoy.
The three weeks that Hermione waited longingly to end crawled by so slowly that it was as though time was out to spite Hermione. She spent the days lolling around her room reading French books from the local library or else actually at the library reading Encyclopedias (what fun). She didn't even bother to go out and explore Paris; you'd think that she would want to get out on the town and try to get Draco off of her mind, but no dice. Reading Encyclopedias and books in another language must have been far more interesting for her. However, the weeks did slowly inch away and eventually the first of December rolled around.
Packed and ready to go, Hermione said a quick goodbye to Isabelle and Brad (whom she somewhat made friends with) before exiting the hotel for one last time. Looking around at the crowded streets, she did not see an ugly, green car. Apparently a student from Belle Strait was picking her up to drive her to the school. Hermione dearly hoped that it was not Bart. She didn't think that she would be able to handle another few hours of him droning on about his achievements in life.
Five minutes later, a weather-beaten car pulled up at the curb. It was not green, but a rusty, ugly brown color. Thankfully, a girl stepped out of the car.
"Are you Hermione Granger?" She asked. This girl did not have a trace of a French accent in her voice, which was strange considering she was in France. She was a beautiful girl, though. Her shiny blond hair was straight and flowed all the way down past her shoulders and stopped at the middle of her back. Her eyes were bright and blue which gave her the look of a constantly happy person, and her great smile just added to the look.
"Yup, that's me." Hermione answered, smiling politely.
"Hey! My name is Mackenzie Courté. But people usually just call me Mac. It is so great to finally meet you! Our Headmistress told us all about you! How you're like, a seventeen year old genius!"
Hermione blushed furiously, yet grinned modestly anyways. "I wouldn't say genius, but I can say that it's great to be going to a school where everything is new and challenging, you know?"
"Oh yeah, tell me about it. I went to Beauxbatons Academy before I was accepted into Belle Strait. They're all smart there, but nothing was really challenging. I'm so glad that I was accepted into Belle Strait. It's like a whole new world for me."
"What year are you in?" Hermione asked, sliding into the front seat of the car and once again being amazed at how different the car looks from the inside. The phrase don't judge a book by its cover came to mind.
"This is my first year. I started in September. I'm eighteen." Mac answered. She was so friendly! She smiled nonstop and seemed to always be bubbly and full of life.
The drive to Belle Strait took a little bit under an hour. Mac drove through a carefully planned out route underneath a large lake, so Hermione could actually see the bottom of the lake and all of the fishes swimming above it. It reminded her of a part in the Disney movie Peter Pan…
They eventually rose out of the lake and into a deserted, totally unknown forest. After driving through the forest for about fifteen minutes, the car pulled into a clearing where an enormous, gorgeous castle sat daintily on top of a mountainous hill. The castle was not quite as big as Hogwarts, but it was still incredibly beautiful. It did not emit the mysterious, eerie vibe that Hogwarts did the first time Hermione saw it; instead, it was warm and welcoming in the way that only magic could make something.
"Welcome," Mac said. "To Belle Strait."
Mac and Hermione made their way across the lawn and up the stone steps of the school, pushing their way through the double, oak doors into an Entrance Hall so beautiful that it's appearance alone lightened Hermione's heart. They did not stop there, however. They continued walking up stairways and down bright, beautiful corridors until they reached a large, wooden door. There was a wooden, flowered design engraved around the doorframe, making its appearance look beautifully mysterious.
Mac knocked three times. After the third knock, the door creaked open like one of those in a horror movie, but with the absence of the daunting music it was not quite as terrifying as it seemed.
Mac and Hermione walked into a large, spacious office. Actually, large was an understatement. Enormous was more like it. The ceilings were at least twenty feet high and the space was as big as a football field. At the far, far end of the room stood a desk. Behind that desk was a middle-aged woman, standing up and bustling over to Mac and Hermione.
"You must be Hermione!" The woman presumed, smiling warmly. "My name is Elle Warden, you're Headmistress."
"Hello," Hermione said, grinning back.
"Well, it's great to finally meet you. I've heard so many great things. Now, we have a lot to discuss, but first things first." Professor Warden extended a hand. "Welcome to Belle Strait." Hermione shook her hand, positively beaming.
It was the first of December and a light snow was beginning to fall, covering Hogwarts grounds in a sparkling, white blanket. Draco Malfoy, however, was too busy thinking to notice.
December the first. Hermione would be at that special school of hers today. The thought made Draco livid. Why did that school have to accept her right when things got messed up? Was it fate? Suddenly, Draco pounded himself in his forehead with his fist. Fate! Of all the things that Draco hated, fate was definitely up in the top ten. It was stupid, moronic and certainly not real. Nothing is meant to be. Nothing.
Draco had gone a whole three weeks without Hermione, and nothing had changed. Well, something had changed. The strong, yearning feeling for Hermione that Draco felt when she suddenly up and left had not dwindled, but instead amplified to its maximum level. Draco couldn't understand this. He thought that if she was away and not around him, his feelings for her might go away and he could return to his normal, outcast life. Ha! Fat chance. The outcast thing was new though, and definitely difficult to adjust to. All of the Slytherins hated Draco with a passion. He became the new Harry Potter, the new Slytherin play toy. They enjoyed throwing nasty comments at him about Hermione and they took pleasure in trying to trip him or jinx him at every possible chance. Of course, Draco was too fast for them. No one had managed to trip or jinx him yet, but his chest still rose every time someone tried. He refused to retaliate, though. For one thing, Hermione would not have approved. She would have whispered in his ear, telling him that it was not worth it and to just ignore them. For another, these were his friends. As much as they had become jerks since the eleventh of November, they still used to be Draco's friends and he hoped dearly that they would get over it one day and accept him back into their group.
"Hello, Draco."
Draco turned around to see Pansy Parkinson standing over him. He had been relaxing by the shore of the lake, watching the water flow once more before it all became ice. Pansy breaking his chain of thought was definitely not inviting.
"Hey, Pansy." Draco said, sighing inwardly. "What do you want? Come to try and hex me again?"
"No." Pansy answered, taking a seat next to Draco and (gasp!) dirtying her shiny, black robes.
"What do you want, then?" Draco repeated, wearily.
"You didn't honestly have feelings for the mudblood, did you?" Pansy asked, getting right to the point.
"None of your business." Draco said, sounding just like Hermione did back when they disliked each other.
"I knew you did." Pansy said. "It's sick, you know. How you could like a thing like her is unknown to me, but at least she's gone. For good. So why don't we just move on and continue with just you and me and no one else."
"Pansy-" Draco began.
All of a sudden, Pansy moved sideways and knocked Draco to the ground. She climbed on top of him and held herself up with her arms, letting her long hair dangle down and sweep over Draco's face. Without warning, she smashed her mouth into Draco's, prying his lips open with her tongue and then jamming her tongue into his mouth and down his throat. She reached down and squeezed Draco's genitals, causing him to jump slightly with pleasure. His testosterone seemed to be controlling him as he pushed Pansy up while continuing to kiss her, then knocked her over to the opposite side and fell on top of her, suddenly becoming the dominant one. Pansy reached both of her hands down Draco's pants this time and wormed into his boxers, grabbing his penis and rubbing it gently in a smooth, circular motion. Draco closed his eyes. It had been so long since he had a woman touch him this way, and it felt incredible. He had a sudden urge to just rip the girl's top off and make long, passionate love to her all night long.
"Damn, Hermione." Draco moaned, thoroughly enjoying the hand job that Pansy was giving him. Hermione? He asked himself, instantly.
"Hermione!" Pansy cried, quickly removing her hands and standing up. "What the fuck is the matter with you, Draco!"
"Pansy?" Draco asked, suddenly snapping out of his daze. Shit! What the fuck is going on?
"I have never been insulted this bad in my entire life!" Pansy exclaimed. She kicked Draco hard. "This is the last straw! From now on your life is going to be a living hell, Malfoy! I offered myself to you. I was all yours; you could have done whatever you wanted with me. You could have fucked me senseless ten times a day every day for the rest of your life if you wanted to! But no, all you can think of is that mudblood bitch. Well, I hope sex with her was worth dropping me, and I highly doubt it. From now on, you're living in hell, Malfoy. Remember that." And with that she turned around and marched back up to the castle in a frenzy.
Hermione! Draco repeated in his mind. He must have fell so far into his little 'Hermione world' that he actually believed that Pansy was her for a few moments. Of course she wasn't, though. Hermione never wanted anything sexual. Damn square. Better then being a slut like Pansy, though. How could she make his life a living hell? It already was! Nothing she could do would make things any worse unless he brought Hermione back and then snatched her away again. Now that would be hell.
"Impedimenta!" A voice cried.
Suddenly, a quick jerk lifted Draco into the air as though ropes had been bound around his wrists and they rapidly rose into the air so that Draco's feet were dangling a few inches from the ground.
"Put me down, Blaise." Draco said in a deathly quiet voice.
Blaise strutted up to Draco, holding his wand out at arm's length and grinning menacingly. "What'd you make Pansy cry for, huh?" Blaise asked, withdrawing his wand and twirling it around his fingers.
"I am not fucking around with you." Draco stated in the same heated voice. "Put me down."
"I don't think I want to." Blaise decided, making a big deal out of it by rubbing his chin as though deep in thought. "I do want to know why Pansy's crying, though."
"None of your fucking business, that's why." Draco replied.
"Ooh, someone's not being very nice considering the predicament he's in." Blaise taunted. "If I were you, I'd be a LOT nicer to ME."
Draco glared at Blaise. He felt like a complete idiot dangling there, unable to retrieve his wand because of the invisible ropes. This couldn't be happening. Blaise was second best next to Draco. And Draco was always in control. Always.
Blaise suddenly conjured up a bat from his wand. A metal baseball bat. Draco eyed it, feeling apprehensive. But still he did not say anything.
"So, what'd ya do to the lovely Miss Parkinson?" Blaise asking, pocketing his wand. "Did you… insult her?" WHACK! Blaise took the handle of the bat by both hands and swung it at Draco's leg.
"SHIT, BLAISE!" Draco exclaimed, his leg throbbing with pain.
"Did you… hurt her?" Blaise continued. WHACK! He held the handle of the bat with one hand and the tip of with the other, then slammed it into Draco's chest, releasing him from the spell and knocking him to the ground.
Draco clutched his stomach, a searing pain shooting through his body. Even with his leg and chest aching like hell, Draco still attempted to get up. However, before he actually managed to rise, Blaise held the bat up high over Draco as though ready to bash him in the head.
"Or did you completely reject her and embarrass the hell out of her by still thinking about that fucking bitch?" Blaise inquired, still holding the bat over Draco's head.
"If you're going to hit me, then do it." Draco said, still clutching his stomach. "But you're not going to fuck around with me like this. Got it?"
"Like what?" Blaise asked. He lowered the bat and jabbed Draco in his chest with it, causing the pain to recur immediately. Internally, Draco was screaming. The amount of pain that one, metal muggle object could cause! But he would not show weakness. He was Draco Malfoy. Weakness was not an option.
"I'm not fucking around with you, Draco. I don't like seeing a faithful, loyal Slytherin cry. Of course, you wouldn't know about that, would you?" Blaise asked. "You know… loyalty? Faithfulness?"
Draco glared at him, but said nothing. Blaise threw the bat on the ground next to Draco, then turned and walked away without another word.
What the fuck? Draco cried to himself as Blaise disappeared out of sight. That was my moment! I should have cursed the little jackass into oblivion!
"SHIT!" Draco screamed. His voice echoed off of the trees of the Forbidden Forest, and yet no one heard him. His chest rose heavily and his leg felt as though it had been hit by a metal baseball bat. He just did not understand it. Draco Malfoy does not take shit from anybody like that!
What is the matter with me?