Chapter 1 - the story really begins. Hope you like it. Feedback will be recieved with much gratitude.
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Chapter 1
As she'd taken to doing, Hermione was shut up alone in her room. Her room was one of the nicest in Number 12, Grimauld Place. She'd done it up in imitation of her old Hogwarts dormitory. Everything was red and gold, with chunky wooden furniture. Normally, the familiarity of her surroundings calmed her, but today she didn't even notice them.
She was sitting on her four-poster bed, staring vacantly at the trunk just below her window. She stared as if mesmerised, all her attention focused on the inside of her mind.
Her problem was, she mused, that she had obsessions. Unlike most people, her obsessions didn't die away after a few months of years; they lasted indefinitely. One such example was her eternal quest for knowledge. She always wanted to know things. During her time at a muggle primary school and later at Hogwarts, she had devoted her time to books and learning. Even now, when her life as a fairly innocent schoolgirl was over, she continued to thirst for more. She had gone to a lot of trouble to re-house the entire contents of Hogwarts' library in Number Twelve, along with Dumbledore's personal collection of ancient tomes.
Yes, Hermione's obsessions were for good, and one such obsession was Draco Malfoy.
Try as she might, Hermione could never decide just when this obsession began. She normally held that infamous day in her third year when she slapped him accountable. It could, however, have begun long before then.
She could argue with herself all day – and frequently did – about the whens and wherefores, but the facts remained facts. She was obsessed with him. She used to catch herself watching him, during classes. She would study him, noting every movement, every gesture, analysing ever little thing in order to try and discover the mind that lay within. He was a puzzle, an enigma; one she was determined to solve.
Was it love? Of course not! What an idea. In love with someone she had loathed ever since they first met? The idea was laughable! It was impossible, absolutely impossible. This is what Hermione told herself, and yet still she stared at the trunk, lost in thought, unable to calm her troubled, doubting mind.
Reluctantly, Hermione dragged her thoughts back to the here and now. Entertaining as such trains of thought may be, there was work to do. She got up and stretched. Walking to the door, she turned the key and let herself out.
The practice rooms were large and bright. They were also crowded. As Hermione walked in, she was hit by a wave of noise. Bracing herself, she made her way through the room, ducking and dodging as wizards and witches practiced and duelled. Through a doorway on the far side of the room she could hear a cacophony of gunshots: the muggles were hard at work, too. Luckily, Hermione had had the foresight to install a few private rooms. It was here that she was headed.
Hermione entered the last free room, glancing around. In the corner were a variety of life-size dummies, each clutching a wand. With a wave of her own wand, they jumped to life and began to advance, menacingly. Pushing back her sleeves briskly, Hermione began to duel.
Again and again the mannequins advanced; again and again Hermione repelled them. In each lifeless face she saw, staring back at her, a pair of liquid grey eyes. Tears streaming down her cheeks, Hermione fought on.