Why Can't You Pretend To Care?
Author's note: Yeah, yeah. I haven't updated in ages, and I changed my pen name from dracohermioneluver to this because I felt that I needed to start over with a clean slate. Forgive all the bad things, time to really get around to updating more often. Still love ya'll.
Disclaimer: No, I don't own Harry Potter, but the moment that I do, I'll let you all know.
Chapter One:
Hermione Granger, now seventeen years old, had finally accepted the fact that some people would never understand what it was like to not always have everything at your beck and call. She snorted as she eyed Draco Malfoy through the window of Madame Malkins, he seemed to be throwing some sort of tantrum over Merlin only knows what this time. Hermione shook her head slowly with a disgusted look on her face. Hermione was spending the last two weeks of summer vacation with her two best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasely. Since they had to return to school in nothing short of four days they decided they had better hurry and get off to Diagon Alley to get their school things.
To no ones surprise Hermione had been made Head Girl, they all congratulated her when she got her owl about it, though Hermione seemed as though she might faint right there. It was as though she didn't expect to get it. And, as it seems to have to be, Draco Malfoy was to be the other Head. At this news Hermione turned a horrible shade of green as though she were about to be very ill at the thought of having to spend loads of time with Malfoy. "At least," Hermione thought, " I won't have to be in the same room with him all the time. Still can stay right at home in Gryffindor Tower." Hermione smiled a little to herself at this thought, quickly regaining her senses about her.
It seemed that Ron and Harry had noticed Malfoy's fit-throwing in Madame Malkins as well. Both boys began to snicker at the sight before them, Hermione had to drag them away from the sight before they were seen by Malfoy. The boys complained the whole time.
"Oh come on Hermione! We were just having a laugh at the slimy little git." Ron whined at Hermione, she shot him a glare.
"We're not here to laugh at Malfoy, as much as I enjoy watching the little ferret make a fool of himself. I have to deal with him all year, I would rather him taunt me as little as possible of the course of this year." Hermione grumbled a little bit as she crossed her arms across her chest and stalked ahead of the boys, heading to Florish and Blots to gather her school books, the last thing on the list.
"Wonder what's gotten into her, eh?" Harry asked, looking after Hermione and then turning to look at Ron. Ron shrugged his shoulders and followed after Hermione into the book store. Both boys stared at Hermione's massive book load, turning their eyes to their own lists and then snatching Hermione's.
"Hey! I need that, you know. I think there is a few things I'm missing from that list…" Hermione trailed off in thought as she furrowed her brows. The boys scanned the list and then stared back at Hermione, she came back into the world at looked at both Harry and Ron. "What? It's just a book list."
"A book list? Hermione it's like you're trying to take every class you can fit into a normal schedule!" Ron shook his head slowly as she Harry handed the parchment back to Hermione.
"Is there something wrong with that, Harry? I'm fairly sure that I enjoy school and classes, so there is no reason to hold back. With all the opportunities that I can have in life by doing this." Harry and Ron both rolled there eyes at the same time and Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "You wouldn't understand. You two only seem to care about Quidditch and other such things."
"The one thing we are good at, Hermione. You know that none of these classes our really our thing. Other then defense against the dark arts, now that's a class." Ron stated, a slightly dreamy look crossing his features as he thought of quidditch and that class. Hermione rolled her eyes this time, thumping her books on the counter, startling the man behind it.
She paid her money and strode out of the shop, her attention being tugged elsewhere. Not noticing that there was someone right in front of her she walked square into them. Neither of the two seemed to be paying much attention who the other was for they apologized and went to help the other.
Something clicked though, Malfoy suddenly stood up, a disgusted look on his face. "Ugh. Mudblood is now staining my clothes, fantastic, this was my favorite robe." Hermione rolled her eyes heaven wards for a moment before standing up and eyeing Malfoy.
"I don't seem to see any such stain on your clothes, it must be in your mind. You know, seeing things is a sure sign of insanity?" Hermione raised an eyebrow in the direction of Malfoy, a sneer now on his lips as he spits at Hermione.
"You just have to know everything don't you, Granger? Why can't you not know something for once? Oh, I know one thing you don't understand. What it's like to be pure and clean." Malfoy shoved passed her, being sure to ram his shoulder painfully into her own, causing her to stumble a little bit, though not fall over. She could hear his snickers as he walked away from her cooly, like nothing had even happened.
"Disgusting little git of a boy. He'll never grow up. I don't see why he couldn't at least pretend to be nice for a little bit." Hermione dusted herself off and then gathered up her books, just as Harry and Ron were walking out of the book store. She eyed their small bags and shook her head slowly. "Suppose we should be getting on back to the Burrow. We promised Mrs. Weasly we wouldn't be gone too long, and I said I would help with the dinner tonight." Hermione gathered up all of her things, the multitude of bags full of various magical items.
As the three of them returned to the Burrow, packed their things away in their trunks and headed back down the stairs, Hermione to help Mrs. Weasly with dinner, and the boys to play some quidditch. While Hermione was relaying what they had all gotten and what had happened that day, she realized something. Malfoy seemed to have a large cut across his cheek, his neck seemed a little purple too. She hadn't taken any notice of these things before because she was too busy retorting to Malfoy's snide remarks. A small frown came across her lips as she wondered what could have possibly caused those things on his otherwise flawless skin.
Even Hermione had to admit that he wasn't half bad looking, but that was all. "If he was only half as good as he looked, that would be a huge improvement." Hermione thought, shaking her head slowly as she peeled the potatoes. Forgetting that she could do magic now, she was doing it all by hand. Eventually, she realized what she was doing. She quickly pulled out her wand and proceeded to go about the peeling much quicker, washing them off and sending them off into the pot that was filled with water.
Hermione finished quickly with the potatoes and chopped up the carrots and other vegetables for the stew that would be their dinner for the night. Hermione yawned widely, stretching her arms above her head and shoving some of her ever bushy brown hair out of her eyes. Blinking the large brown sugar coloured eyes.
"Why don't you go take a rest for a little bit Hermione? I can handle the rest of this for myself, I know you've had a long day." Mrs. Weasely smiled to her and Hermione returned the smile, strolling to the couch were she stretched out across its length, quickly falling into a light doze, her mind still thinking of the bruises and large gash across Malfoy's cheek. Though she didn't know why she cared so much, she realized that whatever was going on, probably wasn't self inflicted, nor was it an accident.
Hermione's dreams took her too all sorts of places, from her run in with Malfoy to various thoughts as to what had happened to Malfoy and his wounds. As she slept she let her mind carry her away in the peace that could be brought on by a simple hours sleep.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Draco Malfoy shook his head slowly as he shoved through the crowed of people. After his little run-in with the Mudblood he felt in the need of a shower. "Filthy girl, doesn't even pay attention to where she's walking…" Malfoy was muttering these things under his breath, receiving many a cold stare from the passerby. It was not unknown that his father was in Azkaban, or was. Somehow he had gotten out, though it wasn't that big of a surprise, seeing as the dementors had been won over to the dark side again. Not that it wasn't coming, seeing as they could get away with giving the Kiss to anyone they so chose.
Malfoy shuddered a little at the thought of the dementors. They could make you feel a freezing cold all the way down to your very bones. It was the sort of cold that made someone wish to pile layers and layers on, though he knew that it wouldn't do any good. The dementors wouldn't waste a moments time to suck out one's soul from their very bodies, on the contrary, they lived for it.
Draco stopped in an alley to gather his thoughts, gingerly touching the bruises and the rather large gash across his cheek. His father was back, and none too happy about having been in Azkaban. He wanted to know why his only son had not helped to get him out. Was he ashamed of his father? Or was it something else? Had he gone soft while he was away? The questions his father asked as he was beating on him. This was something new to Draco. His father had never taken his anger out on anyone before, he didn't know what to do. He also knew that his father could, and would, kill him in a second if that's what it meant.
With a faint sigh of resentment he let his head fall against the brick wall of the building. Clenching his fists at his sides, he thought once more to the encounter with Granger. He had come to the conclusion that he didn't hate her because she was mudblood, but rather because of all the various things she had that he did not. He loathed her very being, and she knew that. He knew that she loathed him just as much, if not more, in return. He was cruel to her, and he wouldn't stop being that way. He had no choice in this, it was his upbringing. He didn't know any other way to think, he was taught young that there was nothing more disgusting on this planet then muggle borns and muggles in general.
Despite this upbringing, Draco had begun to question the truth of what his father had told him all these years. Before Draco had seen who she really was he had noticed the faint smell of vanilla, and what seemed to be strawberries coming from her. He was enticed by this at first, then it occurred to him who this girl was, the bushy brown hair and that sigh, the faint sigh of irritation that she would give when frustrated with something. Growling a little to himself, Draco slammed his fists against the wall, the thoughts couldn't be kept away. He was his own person, his father would never see this, but he was. He had his own thoughts, his own mind, own beliefs.
He had decided long ago that he would try to right the ways of the Malfoy line, perhaps even befriend a muggle or muggle born, however this seemed to be completely out of the question. He found it hard not to look at them and want to torture one of them, but he had to wonder if this wasn't some sort of spell cast over him, whenever he was simply thinking of one, those thoughts never crossed his mind, it was only when he was near one. Not to mention Granger. That bushy, bucked toothed, girl. He loathed her, but for his own reasons. It occurred to him that his father had no control over him at Hogwarts, those sorts of curses and spells couldn't hold once he was through the walls of the castle. He wondered if he could befriend a muggle born at school.
But who? It had to be someone challenging. Someone who wouldn't just agree to be his best friend with a simple asking of it, someone who he positively loathed…His thoughts trailed off there. Shaking his slowly. "No, no, no. Anyone but her, I just can't make friends with that little know-it-all, bushy haired, girl. It just won't ever happen. I can't. I don't know what to do or say to her without it being cruel. Not that she doesn't deserve it, because she does." A smirk crossed Malfoy's lips as he nodded his head slowly, placing his hands behind his head as he turned around, leaning back against the wall. "She'll never expect it. She'll be so confused, it'll be amusing to say the least."
Draco shook his head a little bit, pressing up off the wall and strolling back along Diagon Alley and to the Leaky Cauldron where he apparated back home, quickly tossing his things in his room and pulling out a spare bit of parchment and a quill, loading it up with ink, forming a plot in his mind. Creating a check list and storing it safely in his trunk, inside his potions book where he would be sure to find it later. "We'll see how long it takes me to befriend the mudblood."
A/N: Well, there you have it. I hope that it was acceptable. I'm not sure exactly where this is going to go, but I wanted to get something up and running and then form a real solid idea of what I want to happen. Or, I might just let the story take me where ever it wants to go. Let me know how you liked it. Reviews are nice. ) Love, LH