AN: So here's part two of chapter eleven. It's Hermione, Seraphim, and Draco. Much fun, dears. Enjoy!
Chapter 11: Ensemble, Part IIHermione, November 12:
I just don't understand. What did we do wrong? Seraphim has only just emerged from the emotional box she'd built around herself. Why can't things just work out the way they're supposed to? It's what I get for being optimistic this time, I suppose.
It took me an hour to get her to see reason. I hate it when things don't work out as planned. It's just infuriating. Granted, I didn't work out whatever plan they cooked up; but I saw it happen. It literally blew up in their faces.
The initial plan went quite well. Harry and Seraphim went to the ball together. It was obvious that Malfoy was enormously jealous of Harry. He glared at them practically the whole time they danced! And he was positively livid when Seraphim kissed Harry. He should have marched over (which he did) and charmed her away! What does he do instead? He insults everyone.
Bloody pureblood ego. This really is his entire fault. Malfoy, the idiot. He glared at me today for no reason; no bloody reason at all, the imbecile. Stupid pureblood ferret.
But Seraphim is getting along nicely again. Her lesson this week was much more agreeable than that abominable paper shrinking assignment. She gave a lecture on the advantages and disadvantages of using different spells with or without wands. Cooking, for example, is easier to use without a wand because you need both hands to prepare all the ingredients. Summoning or levitating, on the other hand, is easier with a wand because you don't need to maintain eye contact with an object if you're pointing your wand at it.
It was brilliant; since we'd already seen the difference between wandless levitation and ordinary levitation, she took us down to the kitchens and prepared these delicious raspberry-cream cheese scones while keeping up a running conversation with numerous students, myself included. I suppose, since she's a mage, she can concentrate on more than one spell at the same time because she'd be stirring in the raspberries with one hand and readying the oven with the other.
I also believe that, to keep in with the supposed feud between Malfoy and herself, Seraphim 'accidentally' slipped a few pieces of broken eggshell into his scone. Or maybe that was Ron, I'm not sure. He was laughing quite a bit more than the rest of us. Boys: all idiots in one-way or another.
Seraphim, November 16:
It troubles me to know that I am not as above these feelings as I would like to be. I'm confused over this strange boy. This boy whose demeanor infuriates me but whose eyes send shivers that I cannot explain. Surely I am past all this. These schoolgirl crushes. And surely two months is not enough time for me to be so captivated by this boy, so enamored and intrigued. But I am.
Do I believe in love at first sight? No. But this fatal attraction I do not disbelieve. We are, after all, living in a world so immersed in fantasy that virtually anything is possible; even something so strange as this.
But we are not living in a fairy tale; no matter how fantastical our world may seem, it is still reality and the actions we take will affect us forever. There is truly no going back. Perhaps that is what scares me. All my life I have wanted to believe fairy tales; some of them are true, many of them are our histories. But I have never hoped for a fairy tale of my own until now.
If only I'd never found out he could play music so beautifully; that is my weakness. Nothing is so beautiful as a haunting melody, ensnaring the senses and melting the confines of reality. With darkness on our doorstep, it is a wonder that even that escape is granted us. I received word yesterday, an owl from Auror Moody; they wish me to join the Order of the Phoenix when the school year is out.
There are so many unknowns.
I still feel his lips press against mine. I still see the soft look in his eyes as he asks me to be human to him, to call him by his name. And in my mind I still hear his strangled 'why?' as I run away. I'm still running.
I don't know what to think anymore. I shouldn't be so confused. I have no reason to feel this way. Is this what it's like? To fall in love? Never before has a boy invoked this reaction. Never. At times I'd like to slap him for his arrogance, his pureblood conceit. Then I see him alone, without the mask, and I… I can't say what I want, even I don't know. I wish for another time, another place, another chance to start over.
Draco; I don't want to… What am I going to do?
Draco, November 21:
Damn women! How can she just sit there in the classroom like that? She knows! I know she knows! Even Potter tells me I'm obvious. Potter! And she doesn't do a thing! Not a damn, bloody thing about it. Women.
And Pansy is no help either. 'Draco, you should just ask her to a Hogsmeade weekend.' 'Really Draco, I'm sure she won't laugh at you.' Oh, that's helpful. Really, very helpful. 'Draco, don't be stupid. Of course she won't hex you for asking a question. What's the matter with you?' The thing is, Potter and I (yes, I've written that right. How did this 'alliance' get started again?) have nearly completed the plan to, well, he says 'win fair lady's heart.' I think it's quite stupid really, to say that; but it's Potter. He's a Gryffindor, go figure.
Since when am I reduced to this? What is this? What am I doing? It's too normal. Really. I'm acting like a normal student living an ordinary life. If my father got wind of this, well I don't know. He always does something whenever he hears of my school behavior, no matter where he is. I am a business enterprise first, son second. Story of my life.
'Did you hear? Draco's been made prefect.' 'Oh yes, he's the seeker on his house team.' He may be my father, but…I don't know. Disobeying him is like a one-way ticket to hell. No one knows more than I how serious it is to cross my father.
But isn't that what I'm doing? Lusting after a Gryffindor? I don't care what they say, she takes classes, she dorms with them, she's a Gryffindor. What am I doing? It's like I've just been brought to my senses and I find I just don't care anymore. How is that possible?
I am Draco Malfoy. I'm pureblood and I have only the best. How is it that I've lost control over my life? And I don't care. I find myself not caring at all that I'm defying what my father has taught me. What's wrong with me? And I still feel this is right. How can it be right when I know it's wrong?
I keep looking for the answers but they don't come. I keep trying to tell myself this is not what I should be doing. But it feels good to defy my father, to think for myself. I like knowing that I don't have to be what everyone thinks I should be. And for some strange reason, Potter accepts that. I don't understand.
Oh hell, I forgot about the potions essay due tomorrow. I'm going to be up half the night now. Damn.