Behind Closed Doors
Authors Note: Sorry about the wait. Really long wait. There have been a couple of problems but the point is that we've done another chapter. And I just want people to know that this fanfic is AU/OCC. I've been getting reviews and emails asking why Harry is a teacher and Hermione is still a student. I thought it was obvious that this was an au/occ but I guess some people were still confused on the issue. Well anyways now that I've made myself clear, enjoy the story! J
Chapter 3
The soft, crimson tinted curtains were shut tight as Hermione lay in her four poster bed. She stared aimlessly at the ceiling as sweat slid down from her forehead and made a slow, steady descend down her cheeks and onto her pillow. Her eyes clenched shut, gritting her teeth in the process, as another sharp ovarian pain ripped through her lower abdomen. After a few agonizing minutes the pain slowly dissimilated, leaving only a pulsing memory of the previous pain.
"Damn, these fucking cramps!" she yelled as she slammed a balled up fist against her mattress. Catching herself off guard, she flinched a little as the sound of her voice pierced through her ears, causing her headache to retaliate with pain.
Here she was, stuck in bed while everyone else was enjoying their half day and having a pleasurable afternoon at Hogsmeade. Completely oblivious to the fact that there might have been less fortunate people like herself. She pulled open the curtains slightly and gasped as the sun's sharp rays pierced her eyes, leaving her temporarily blind. Once she regained her sight she peaked out of her window and watched as everyone happily walked away, hunched together with groups of friends, laughing and joking around continually. Ron's flaming red head was easy to pick out, even in a huge crowd like the one outside. There he was like a total twit giving Lee Jordan a wet willy and tripping over his own feet every couple of seconds.
She'd rather get a wet willy from Ron then be up here, gripping her crotch every two minutes like an idiot without a life. She now squirmed uncomfortably in bed as the dreaded red fluid started to leak out of her and poured into her feminine napkin. She groaned with disgust as she realized that she could be out having a good time and possibly, just possibly be able to sneak a few moments with Harry.
Wait, what was she talking about? Only a teacher, he's only a teacher, Hermione reminded herself. But wouldn't it be nice? It's not a sin to fantasize about anyone, is it? Even if Harry is a teacher… It was funny, she mused, how she called him by his first name as if she knew him on a personal level.
"Don't I wish!" she grunted, throwing her head back onto her pillow.
"Damn you, Eve! You had to eat the damned apple and now we're all cursed!" she said sarcastically.
Hermione, enraged by the fact that she had been sitting in bed all day decided that she couldn't take lying down any longer. Still the idea of going downstairs and dealing with the humiliation from a few days ago made sitting in bed all day seem pleasurable. She was sure that the few people who remained at Hogwarts still vividly remembered her tampon incident. Frankly she didn't feel like dealing with the matter or people's idiotic behavior. Deciding to ponder over the pros and con's of the situation she laid there staring at the ceiling.
Oh well, Hermione mentally told herself, I'm going to have to deal with it sooner or later and the day I stay in bed all day like this is the day Hell freezes over. She threw the comforter off of her body, slid her legs off the side of the bed and trudged over to the bathroom where she proceeded to look into the mirror.
She ruffled her helmet of hair and came to the conclusion that complaining about the pain of PMS wasn't going to make it disappear. With that she took two Midol's and touched her unusually acne free cheeks. She then flipped her hair once more deciding that it wouldn't get any calmer and left her room. Where she was going, what she was going to do she didn't know and frankly she didn't care as long as it was away from her room.
She started to make her way down the main stairway and absentmindedly wandered into the library.
Well, everyone's gone so I might as well start on my Defense against the Dark Arts project, she thought to herself as she walked past the librarian who had her nose planted in the crack of a book and was seemingly asleep. Deserted wasn't a good enough word to describe the emptiness in the library. No one was around except Nearly Headless Nick who seemed busy reading a book, and taking a few moments to chew at his ghostly nails.
Peace, quite, and in my favorite room: what else can I ask for? There isn't anyone here to ask me for notes, or what we did in class. There isn't anyone crying to me about turning something in late just so that I could let them copy. Hermione sighed, a wistful smile playing on her lips. If ever the day came when she had to live in the library, she knew that everyone else would too, just to copy off of her homework. People didn't notice her because she was pretty, witty, or nice. All they cared about was the fact that she was smart. It was her answers that they liked.
She walked through each isle; her feet softly tapped against the floor, as she scanned through the books on the shelf. Everything for her project was right there in front of her but her hand was hesitant, not wanting to move and pick up a book to start. Instead she made her way into the isle that housed all the biographies and autobiographies. She hadn't realized who she was looking for until she came upon a shelf devoted to him.
"Are you kidding me? This has got to be a joke." She whispered to herself, almost laughing. Why couldn't she take her mind off of him? He was only a pretty face! Aside from that he was an insipid teacher and even worse, a drunk.
What do you see in him Hermione? She asked herself, reaching out her hand and grabbing a self titled book.
Hermione ran her hand down the spine of the book and then over the front cover, a small collection of dust forming on her index finger. The name Harry Potter was engraved in gold and underneath was the author.
"Luna Lovegood," she read allowed, raising an eyebrow at the irony. Honey, you know me right? You might as well write a book about me. Either she had nothing else better to do with her life or she was in desperate need of some money, but the idea of having your fiancé write your life story sounded a bit ridiculous. A sudden rush of guilt came over her and she told herself that it wasn't right to judge people before knowing them.
She took the book; despite her agitation that Luna had written it, and she walked over to a totally secluded section of the library. Though the library as a whole was secluded, she chose to sit at the desk Ron and she always sat at to study. Which didn't happen very often since Ron wasn't into studying. But there were those occasions when Hermione to literally drag him in, knowing he would fail all exams if he didn't study.
Hermione skimmed through the pages, flipping each page hastily aside. The book wasn't incredibly detailed, Hermione critically noted and she was actually pretty surprised. Shouldn't a fiancé know every detail about their mates past? Well, maybe not every detail but the book clearly showed that Luna seemed to know nothing about Harry.
Most biographies seemed to be all about Harry's younger years when it was discovered that he had survived an attack by the infamous sorcerer, Voldemort. They talked about how he went from being "The Boy Who Lived" to becoming "The Chosen One". They then went on to tell how Harry, with the help of his friends, would, every year, find the courage to stand up to a new threat to the school. This book was exactly the same. Why waste your time writing a biography when it was exactly like the others? Not even his fiancé knew him well enough to right a decent biography on him. Or maybe the book was indeed, actually good and Hermione was just jealous over someone she couldn't have.
"Who are you?" she asked aloud, passing her hand over the name that seemed to gleam gold in the sunlight.
"Who's who?" A voice from behind her said, sounding amused.
Hermione didn't know whether she had jumped or jerked wildly in shock but all she could think about was the voice. Quickly, barely thinking, she closed the book and turned it wrong side up so that it was unidentifiable. She turned and there, standing in a teacher's cloak with the Gryffindor emblem to the side, was the man who she had, just moments ago, been reading about.
"Professor...I didn't expect to see you here!" She squeaked nervously, clearing her throat a few more times than needed. "I thought you would have been at Hogsmeade like everyone else."
"No, not everyone is at Hogsmeade. I had a few important matters that needed handling so I chose to stay behind. What book are you reading?" he asked suddenly, noticing how Hermione was trying to conceal the book that was now, half underneath her school vest and snug beneath her arm.
"What, you mean this thing? Oh, no it's just my diary!" she blurted out, sounding so legit that she had even surprised herself. Maybe I should have taken drama this year, she mused arrogantly. She saw a smile forming at the corner of his mouth. What was so funny? Was there something on her face? A pimple that suddenly appeared?
"So, you have a diary? You know diaries aren't always as safe as they seem. Maybe I should have a look at it." At this point Hermione wasn't sure whether he just wanted a peek in her personal life or he was actually serious about the diary being jinxed. But something told her that he probably had the intention of both.
"Yeah, I've got a diary but seriously now. I don't want you looking at it, mind you; I have lots of personal things in here." Why was she making such a big deal about all this? Why couldn't she just show him that she was just reading a biography of his?
"Well, nothing, it's just I used to have a friend Ginny and..."
"Yeah I know that story; I think we've all heard about your 2nd year and how she was possessed by you-know-who." Hermione stared at Harry who looked offended for some reason as he leaned on the table. Suddenly she realized how tall he was and her breathing quickened.
"Yeah, I'm sure you've heard about that. But aren't diaries for people who find it hard to deal with life? And you, well, you always seem so sure of yourself so it doesn't seem like you would need one." Harry instigated, wanting to know what Hermione was truly hiding.
"Oh, that's right so then you must have a diary? No wonder your an expert at all this diary business!" she replied wittily, becoming angry as she remembered his drunken state from a few days ago. Or had it been yesterday? She wasn't quite sure. His eyes widened slightly, knowing exactly what she was referring to. She could tell he was offended and slightly hurt by her comment. Still she persisted.
"Well...do you have a diary that's snug underneath your pillow comfortably as we speak?" Hermione asked just above a whisper.
"No...I don't." Hermione noted that he seemed too firm to have been saying the honest truth. The mischief in his eyes was now replaced with a subtle sadness that he tried very hard to conceal. His eye's narrowed as they looked at her. A question playing in his eyes. A question Hermione couldn't quite understand.
"Well then first impressions aren't always the right ones, are they?" Hermione asked rhetorically, feeling triumphant about the situation.
"Well sometimes that's all you have," he answered, not letting the issue rest. His voice was low and raspy and frankly enough she started to get confused on what the subject of the conversation actually was.
"Well what if I want more?" she asked faintly, looking down at the scruffy looking floor.
"Then I don't know what to tell you Ms. Granger," Harry said lowly but she was too much in a daze, at this point, to even understand what he had said. His green eyes burned into her and she felt out of place, the room around her seemed to spin slowly. Dangerous was the only word she could summon to describe those amazing, green colored eyes. They did something to her that she couldn't even explain. A thick layer of tension settled upon them as they stood there staring at each other. Neither of them knew what to say or how to break the silence and the more time passed, the more electrifying the tension seemed.
Suddenly without warning, a shrill voice pierced through the tension causing them both to jump, violently out of their previous thoughts. Hermione was so astounded by the voice that she didn't noticed when she dropped the book on the floor. Harry, being more level headed then Hermione heard the thud the book made on the floor and crouched down to pick it up. It was then that he noticed how long and voluptuous Hermione's legs were in her tightly fitted pants. His heart raced dramatically as he forced his eyes to shift toward the object in his hand. That's when he noticed the real content of the book.
A small smile played at his lips as he looked up into Hermione's, still dazed eyes, challengingly.
"Diary...eh?"
Just as Hermione was about to explain, professor McGonagall's weary face peered in.
"Oh, Professor Potter," Professor McGonagall said, "I've been searching for you everywhere. Your fiancée Luna is in your classroom and she wishes to have a word with you."
Luna? What the hell is Luna doing here! Hermione thought, feeling extremely disappointed. Fuck! It was in that instant that everything came back to her and the room stopped spinning, the room seemed to dim, her momentary daze was gone, and Harry was no longer looking at her. She even started to remember who she was and who he was. Now he would go running to her as if Hermione were of no importance.
"Yes, tell her I'm helping out a student with a project and that I'll be there in just a second," he answered. He was so busy looking at Professor McGonagall that he didn't notice the look of utter shock on Hermione's face. Professor McGonagall too didn't notice as she began once again to speak.
"Well, Professor Potter she said she was in a bit of a hurry and had to get going."
Wait, did he just put his fiancé on hold for me? Is he drunk, again? One look into his eyes told Hermione that he wasn't.
"Well then, Hermione, I guess we'll have to finish this another time," he stated looking at Hermione briefly.
"Of course," Hermione replied, almost breathlessly and trying to make it sound as if his departure meant nothing to her.
She took one last glance at his eyes, those wonderfully devilish eyes and saw a spark of something. What it was she couldn't decipher because he moved away too quickly. Hermione watched as Harry walked away with Professor McGonagall by his side. Why was she so affected by his presence? He was a teacher, her teacher at that. And not only was he a teacher but he was also going to get married, so why was she stressing over this situation?
Once they were out of the library Professor McGonagall made it a point to speak once more.
"Brilliant student is she not?" she asked.
Harry smiled, taking one last glance in the direction of the library.
"Oh yes, brilliant."
Harry stared at the drop of perspiration that was sliding down his mug of whiskey. He watched the drop as it sluggishly made its way down the body of the glass and finally dissolved beneath the bottom. His head pounded lightly and there was a faint buzzing in his ear that was followed by an angered voice.
Once again Harry found that he had drowned himself in liquor. Harry had walked into his classroom anxious, feeling more alive and manly than ever when suddenly, without introduction or greeting Luna started bombarding him with the life he'd tried so hard to forget. Instead of hugging him and kissing him, as most fiancé's do, she asked the simple question: Honey, yellow roses or purple tulips? It was the wedding once again. As if he didn't have enough on his mind now he had to help her choose her bouquet? Shouldn't she know him well enough to be able to tell his likes and dislikes?
"Whatever you think is best." Harry replied, with a touch of exasperation in the tone of his voice. Luna then went on continually about color coordination and seasonal flowers, not taking any sort of notice that Harry seemed deprived. When Harry couldn't take anymore of her talk he stood from the chair he had been sitting in and went to go pour himself another mug of any random liquor that might've been stored in his classroom. As soon as Luna realized his intentions she sighed and started to lecture him, bringing up the past and making Harry more prone to drink than before.
He sat down watching his liquor sway slightly side to side inside the mug, finding this more interesting than hearing Luna speak.
"Harry...Harry look at me when I'm talking to you! Jesus, you're drunk again! You know that it hurts me so much to see you like this! What? Do you just do it to get me mad? Is that what this is? God Harry, what are you playing at? If you keep this up more things, worse things will happen, like losing someone you love..." Luna stared at Harry with tears stubbornly immobile at the corners of her eyes, a desperate expression plastered on her face. Please Harry, please, don't let me leave, she pleaded with herself.
The voice that had always seemed to be so tender and passive was now wavering with emotion. He looked at her for the first time since he had walked into his classroom and saw an ocean of emotions all tumbling together in a wave of tears. A part of him tried to move, try to stop her and to tell her that he was okay, that he would learn to forget the past. The other part, the more practical one, knew that it would never be forgotten; things would never be the way she wanted them to be. Was she really to blame? Harry hadn't decided, but he found that the easiest way to cope with his situation was to somehow make it seem as if it was Luna's fault.
Harry looked back down at his now, empty glass, not knowing what to do. The once gentle pounding that resided in his head was now hurtful and deafening. His life seemed to be spinning out of control right in front of him and he could only sit, watching and wishing that someone could wave a wand and make all his problems disappear. Harry didn't say a word as he just looked at her, a lost expression on his face.
Luna's lips tried parting to form words but nothing but whimpers came out. Her tears were now escalated to the point that she couldn't speak. She tried to come closer to him but stopped half way as if it hurt to get too close to him.
"Good-bye Harry," Luna muttered painfully with the last of her strength, before running out of Harry's classroom.
Harry was motionless as he watched her go. In movies this would be the part where Harry would come to his senses, jump off his chair, run after her and passionately kiss all her worries away. Harry buried his head in his hands knowing very well that this wasn't a movie, it was life, and in life a kiss could only do so much.
Hermione gripped her quill, looking at her hand and noticing the sheer transparency of her fair skin. She sighed deeply as the beginning of a headache started to form near her temples. The pounding was a soft rhythmical one but was still loud enough not to let anymore thoughts run through her head. She hadn't decided whether that was a good thing or not. She dipped her quill in ink and proceeded to write the sentence, I will pay attention in class, compliments of Professor McGonagall, despite her upcoming headache. 'Two hundred sentences down, five hundred more to go, she thought to herself cynically.
She proceeded to write, but no matter what she did to occupy herself, her mind always wandered to the same subject...Harry. It came to the point where she was actually annoying herself and surprisingly missing Ron. She hadn't spoken to him for a few days and actually wanted his company. After all, sadly enough, he was her only friend.
She tried not to but every once and a while she would glance up at Harry to see if he was looking at her and was disappointed when he wasn't. He hadn't talked to her since she entered his room for detention. Even though this is what a normal teacher would have done, it was extremely odd for Harry o follow that norm. Why was he so dejected all of a sudden?
"Professor, can I ask you something-" Hermione paused, coming to the conclusion that asking would be too forward, "- about something that's been on my mind for quite a while."
Harry glanced at her over the rims of his glasses. She had to catch her breath at the sight. He was so manly and looked like he would easily get away with beating his chest like an idiot and somehow, make it seem attractive. Her hand kept writing but her eyes were no where near the paper.
"Sure, anything," he answered casually.
"Well...," Hermione stumbled trying to figure out what she was going to ask him in replacement of her last question. "I...I just wanted to know why you became a teacher all of a sudden. I mean, you were one of the best Auror's the wizarding world has ever seen...so why give that all up?" Hermione stared at him longingly, watching as he bit his bottom lip. She watched him attentively, noticing how he scratched his chin repetitively. She knew that he somehow knew that wasn't the question she was planning on asking him.
"The only answer I can give you is that Hogwarts needs my help. Unfortunately Dumbledore isn't feeling well and he's done so much for me in the past. So now it's time I pay him back." Harry stopped, his eyes glazing, as he proceeded to scribble down notes and class plans.
She stared at him, trying to make her eyes move to the side and look at something else. She knew he had tip-toed around the subject and she could feel that that wasn't the only reason he had, but she dropped the subject. Again he fell into a silent oblivion that made Hermione feel awkward and she did her best not to disturb.
Hadn't she heard from someone that his fiancé was seen running out of his room in tears? Come to think of it, she didn't even remember when or where she was told that. Was it Lavender? No it couldn't be, since Lavender wasn't speaking to her due to the Potions incident. Harry almost seemed like a stranger and despite all of his fame and the countless biographies written about his achievements, she realized she really, truly knew nothing about him.
"Luna came to talk to me today..." Harry began, shocking her out of her train of thought once more.
"I know," Hermione said just above a whisper. She wanted to look back at him and let him know that he had her full attention but she had a feeling he already knew.
"Of course, I mean you were there when..." he trailed off as he came upon the subject of the library. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and saw him rubbing his face and running his hands through his hair in frustration.
"I didn't stop her from leaving. She was right there and I just couldn't get up...why?" The question was more directed towards him than towards her and Hermione was thankful for that because she wouldn't have known how to answer.
"I wish I could answer you but I just don't know how. I think when it comes down to it, you're the only one who really knows, right?" she asked him helplessly.
Hermione couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. Emotions weren't her area of expertise, studies were and she felt if she tried to answer his question, she would just sound stupid. For the first time in her life she didn't know the answer to a question. She didn't like the feeling either…
"Don't," he said, answering her previous question. "Don't answer because you're perfectly right. I'm the only one who can answer those kinds of questions. Ten points for Gryffindor". Hermione would've laughed at his completely random offer, but it was obvious that it wasn't the time or place for jokes.
"Listen Hermione, you can leave. Two hundred sentences are enough for today." He didn't look at her when he said this but, instead, proceeded to write down class plans and notes. Hermione sat there for a while and when he didn't say anything else, she figured that he thought she had already left. She stood up from her seat, packed up her stuff quietly and started for the door. She took one last look at Harry before walking out of his room quietly.
Hermione scooped up the porridge that sat in her bowl and let it slip from the spoon purposely. She didn't have an appetite and she barely even slept the night before. Her mother had sent her a letter through owl saying that her father had the day before. Hermione grimaced as she remembered how her chest had tightened significantly and how the piece of parchment in her hand had shook frantically. Though she had expected this kind of news for months, the reality of it was that she wasn't prepared for it. He wasn't one of the many random people that were written about in the Daily Prophet, and he wasn't just another other death. He had been her father. He was the person who had shown her how to be studious and have respect for knowledge as a whole. Now he was gone and here she was stuck in Hogwarts so far away from home where she should be. She felt as if a part of herself had died along with her father and the only way to avoid a break down was to but up her defensive wall. She wouldn't cry, she couldn't.
"Hermione I bought you something from Hogsmeade since you weren't feeling well and couldn't come. You missed all the action! Neville got punched in the face and he jinxed Seamus but it turned out it was Dean." Ron sat down next to her, seeming to forget about the fight that they had just the other day. She appreciated his company but everything he was saying seemed to sound so distant that it wouldn't make any sense to try and listen. She saw his hand reach in his pocket and place a few chocolate frogs in front of her and she heard him say something along the lines of how each frog mentioned a new spell before you ate it.
Clearly Ron didn't notice that she was in a deep despair. "Are you okay Hermione? You're too quiet." Ron looked at her while he stuffed himself with the untouched porridge bowl in front of her. She glanced at him briefly and was slightly amused. His red hair was ruffled, some porridge running down his chin, and his eyes staring at her in confusion.
"My father died, Ron. He…he had tuberculosis." She murmured, looking down at the, now, empty bowl of porridge. Ron took this time to wipe his chin. A look of remorse came upon his bright features as he stared sympathetically at Hermione. Hermione wasn't exactly sure what tuberculosis was called in the wizarding world or if it even existed, but the word death was universal and anyone could easily comprehend the depth of meaning behind that single word.
"Whoa, Hermione I'm sorry. If I had known I would've, you know, I wou—," Ron was interrupted by Hermione who simply shook her head and murmured an "its okay". She quickly cleaned off the tears that ran down her face with the back of her hand and produced a fake smile. Christmas was months away and until then she would try not to let his death interfere with her life here at Hogwarts. It was here last year and she couldn't let anything get in the way of her goals, whatever they may be.
"So, was the weather awesome or what? Even from inside I could just tell it was a beautiful day!" Hermione said cheerfully as she rested her check on a balled up hand and looked at Ron. For now, Hermione would put a veil of joy over her despair and hope that it was convincing enough. Just before Ron was going to respond, a girl nudged him in the shoulder and his face slammed against the table. A petite girl about Hermione's age walked by mindlessly as if she had not noticed she had bumped into Ron. Her silky black hair fell to her shoulders and her sharp slanted eyes seemed lost in thought, almost in their own world.
"Hey, watch we're your going!" Ron yelled, his ears quickly fuming red at the tips as he rubbed the back of his head. At that same moment, the girl stopped walking and robotically turned her body towards Ron and stared at him, her eyes cast in a daze. Her lips slightly parted and stood frozen in one position as if they were confused on what to do next.
"My... name is Crisanna Tang. With two n's and beginning with a 'C'." Crisanna stopped abruptly and stared blankly at Ron's empty plate, her head bobbing side to side slowly.
"I already know who you are, just watch we're your going next time!" Ron bellowed as a soft stream of blood ran down his forehead.
Ron then turned around quickly, wanting to keep his temper in check. Hermione, on the other hand, stayed staring at the girl. Her eye's narrowed as she studied Crisanna's features. Crisanna, obviously feeling uncomfortable under Hermione's observing gaze, turned around quickly and walked away with a limp in her leg.
"You know her?" Hermione asked Ron, nudging him in the arm to catch his attention.
"You mean that girl that bumped into me? Yeah I know her. She's a new student. I have her in my potions class. A real mystery that one," explained Ron, looking at the departing girl in awe.
Hermione frowned slightly and jealousy ran up and down her spine. Crisanna was the one and only person in the school that was more intelligent than Hermione. Crisanna was better than Hermione in all classes and even flying on a broom. With Straight O's on her N.E.W.T's and taking 7th year classes in her first few years at the Xoying Chinese School of Wizards and Witches in China, Crisanna was what some would call an all around genius.
"She supposedly has no parent's and no one knows how she got to Hogwarts. All we know is that she must be a hell of a witch to have made it into that Xoying School. It's ranked up in the top 3 best schools in the wizarding world. She lives with an uncle in London so I guess that's who her guardian is now," Ron explained, looking around for another bowl of porridge to stuff into his mouth. Hermione sympathized with the girl's lack of parents but that didn't lessen who curiosity.
"Who's her uncle?" Hermione asked persistently, only to get a lazy shrug from Ron.
"Weird, but there isn't a doubt that that girl has an amazing brain," Hermione trailed off.
"You're telling me," Ron said, finally settling for a biscuit instead of more porridge.
Was Crisanna a friend or foe? Brains like that never end up working for any sort of good side. Maybe it wasn't Hermione's business but never has she come upon someone that smart. Hermione sighed heavily coming to the conclusion that only time would unlock the mysteries of this new addition to Hogwarts. Suddenly feeling overwhelmed and a bit exhausted from the week's events, she stood from the table, murmured "Good-bye" to Ron and headed towards the Gryffindor girl's dormitory. Now that Hermione was alone her heart suddenly started to beat faster and her lip began to tremble. Her loving father was gone and now she could never see his smile again.
"Look at the trash that is still walking around in these corridors," a sneering voice said from behind Hermione. She turned around and stared into a pale faced, white blonde haired man with a well built figure that would intimidate many. Her eye looked at his chest and she saw a badge flashing near his right shoulder. It read:
Ministry of Magic, International Office of Law, Draco Malfoy
"Excuse me?" Hermione stared wide eyed straight into Draco's face, clearly incensed.
"Filthy Mudbloods are a waste of time and clearly don't understand English, either." Draco, head high in the air, walked away from Hermione with an extreme air of arrogance. Hermione could feel the blood streaming inside her telling her loud and clear that this would mean war.
The End of chapter 3
If you didn't understand something then just wait a few more chapters because everything will be explained. Please leave reviews and tell us what you liked, didn't like, comments in general really. School is starting soon so I can't give any promises about a quick update or not. But thank you for reading and I hope you liked it!
