Yay! I'm FINALLY back on Sorry for being away for so long. Heh heh… eyes angry mob : As soon as I sort out my writers block and repost all my deleted stories (with edits.. yay!), this story will get right back on track. I'm also not sure whether I should start posting my blaise-ginny or wait until this story is sorted out and trouble free. Any suggestions?
Thanks to the regulars and the newcomers, who will be listed at the bottom of the chapter.
This chapter won't be too eventful, but it's quite important, and the end is a bit O.o, so bear with me this week. I promise next chapter will be better.
NO SPORKS please. Carry all your hybrid utensils to , where one of my original stories is up. Also, visit my deviantart page! www.Herxstolenxheart. (I only have a couple photos and poems up so far) and my Fictionpress account should be up and running within a few days.
Enjoy!
Chapter 5
Harry's POV
How could he? How could Professor Dumbledore do that to Hermione? He clearly knows that Malfoy won't teach Hermione anything about her past life. He'll probably change her into a Pansy Wannabe. Damn Inter-house Unity.
Involuntarily, I looked over at Malfoy. He was slumped on the armchair, and it looked like he was sleeping. Except he wasn't. Pansy was tugging on his arm and crying hysterically, begging him to wake. I smiled. It'd be nice if Malfoy had dropped dead, but then Dumbledore might just appoint a greater prat, like Millicent Bullstrode or Crabbe or something to teach Hermione. I stared, amused, as Pansy started giving Malfoy "CPR", which according to Pansy, amounted to frenzied kissing and karate chops along his chest, down to his "spot", and back up. My eyes widened as Pansy placed a well aimed chop right there. If that didn't kill Malfoy, that'd definitely kill the line of Malfoys for sure. I grimaced at the thought of Malfoy, having kids.
Ron, however, was sitting in a corner, muttering to himself gloomily. He alternatively cast worried looks at Hermione and scathing looks at Malfoy, not that either of them noticed. I walked over and sat down next to him.
"I can't believe Dumbledore. Doesn't he know that Malfoy will destroy 'Mione?" Ron hissed vehemently.
I tried to come up with a good answer, and I failed miserably. "Perhaps he thought it was for the best," I responded lamely.
Ron's eyes nearly popped. "For the best? FOR THE BEST? How is it the best that 'Mione becomes an evil, boob-bobbing brat?"
I laughed, as I tried to imagine Hermione walking around, head held high and boobs jingling merrily. The image came easily, and immediately I feel sickened.
"If we can't trust Dumbledore, who can we trust?" I muttered.
Ron opened his mouth to retaliate, but before any sound left his mouth, Draco Malfoy crouched down next to us.
"So, what is the Fantastic Tr.. I mean Duo talking about today? How glad you are that you finally got rid of the Mudblood?" He said it almost conversationally.
Immediately, a wave of fury swept over me. "You… bastard." I growled, leaping up.
Uncharacteristically, Ron remained sitting. "Go suck slugs." He retorted, almost tiredly.
Malfoy was delighted. "Why, it seems that would perfectly describe YOU!"
Anger alighted in Ron's eyes. He snapped up his want and sent a stunner at Malfoy. Smirking casually, Malfoy flicked his wand and the spell dissolved. Ron turned pale.
Malfoy pointed his wand at Ron, and Ron and I tensed. "Taran…"
He never finished his spell. A shriek emitted from Hermione's bed, causing Malfoy to lose his cool and drop his wand.
Hermione was muttering wildly, her eyes shut tight. We caught snatches of her thoughts: " No… Voldemort… Live…. Tell… Can't…. Draco… Draco…"
Suddenly, she sat up. Eyes wide and blank, she caught sight of us and cried, "Who are you?"
Hermione's POV
No… No… Voldemort cannot take me now. I have to live on. I have… I have to tell Ron I… Who's Ron? No… This can't be happening. No… Draco… I can't remember who Draco is!
Suddenly, a picture burst in front of my eyes: a golden haired boy with cool grey eyes, scowling. Why is he in my mind? I was scared. Tossing and turning, I found something solid under me. Immediately I sat up. "Who are you?"
The picture disappeared. I was in a room, filled with gold and silver light. Everything was white. White smudges on a gold and silver canvas. In my mind, I saw two dark blobs and a light one.
I tried to focus my eyes, except they didn't seem to want to listen to me. I rubbed them furiously. A little better. Suddenly, a face thrust itself into my field of vision. Clear, green eyes and unkempt black hair obscured my sight.
"Hermione?" The heart shaped lips opened and closed.
I don't know why, but I felt trust and security in those warm eyes. I wanted to reach out and touch his conscience. I wanted to know why there was so much pain and distress behind the mask of happiness.
I felt anger invade my mind. A voice in my head warned, "Do not dare to touch his conscience. He is not your friend. Trust me." I hesitated. The voice was familiar. Cruel, but the harsh tone had been drawn into his voice. He had a spark of goodness in him.
I was torn. Who? Finally, I withdrew the mind probe I had unconsciously sent out and retreated back into my own mind.
"Control your voice." The echoes in my conscience commanded.
I found my voice. Staring coolly into the (entrancing) green eyes, I mustered as much arrogance as I had and growled, "What do you want?" Pleasure came from the other conscience. The person… whoever he was, reached over and gave me a huge, warm hug. I wanted to bask in his attention, but disgust found its way into my mind.
Not looking at the boy in front of me, I pushed him away. Instantly, I felt hurt emanating from him. I needed him to go away, my thoughts told me. "I don't know you." I declared disdainfully.
Eyes wide open, the green-eyed boy stepped back. Thankfully, he let go of me. The green eyes misted, and the confused and angry boy ran out of the room. An equally stunned redhead glared at me fiercely, and then chased after him.
I don't know why, but then, my heart hurt, like I was sorry to see them go. My eyes stung and my cheeks flamed, like someone had just slapped me.
"Good job, Granger." The last boy stood up and walked towards me, applauding slowly, mockingly. A semi-pudgy girl looked with astonishment between me and him. She literally spluttered, "Draco… and Granger?"
The boy, Draco, snapped at the pudgy girl, "Pansy, go away."
The girl, Pansy, gave me another bewildered and angry look and tried to protest. "But Drakkie, what if she tries to jump you?"
Draco sighed exasperatedly. "Only you would do that. I can take care of her. Now, LEAVE." The last word sounded dangerous.
Pansy backed uncertainly from the room. Draco relaxed.
"Never know when she wants to jump on you, that one," he said almost sagely.
I lifted an eyebrow. Whatever.
Draco walked over and sat on the edge of my bed. Painstakingly, he scrutinized me. I looked away. Who was he? Why would he look at me like this, so gleefully, like I was a steak in a supermarket display?
"Do you know who you are?" Draco smirked.
I opened my mouth and tried to remember. I racked my memory. Who am I? I gulped. Then, I remembered what the green-eyed boy had told me. "Am I… Hermione?"
Draco's smile seemed to have slipped a little bit, or I might have just imagined it. His tone of voice, however, was definitely harsher when he said, "So? Who ARE you?"
I shook my head. I didn't know. Slowly, I admitted it.
Draco suddenly looked like he was going to go into hysterics. Presumably holding back chuckles, he declared, "You're Hermione Granger. You are a sixth year. You're of Slytherin House, and you hate Gryffindors like Potty and Weasel."
I nodded uncertainly. "Who are Potty and Weasel?"
"Those two boys who were in the room with us. Harry Potter, the green-eyed boy. He is really dense and very, very capricious. Don't go near him if you don't want an argument. Weasel, aka Ronald Weasley, is the redhead. He's even thicker, if that's possible, and he is mediocre at about everything. Remember, you HATE them."
I nodded again. Why don't I remember them then? If I hated them as much as Draco was saying, then I should at least remember them.
Speaking of which, I don't feel any hate either. Just a vast emptiness.
"Now, sleep. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow." The boy walked out of the room, laughing.
Well, I hope you more or less enjoyed that. Hermione's going to be evil! cackles. Or is she? Haha you'll have to read on to find out! 3 meanwhile,
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Thanks. : Thanks for all the reviews. I really enjoy reading all your comments, and here are my shoutouts. If you want to be in them, you've gotta review! )
Hellakat: well. I have to rush a bit in the action because right now I'm just setting up for the main conflict. If I don't rush it, the story will end up QUITE long, and I'm not sure anyone would like to read a 30+ chapter story about… well… darkness. Except me, maybe. : haha and I'm sorry about any grammar mistakes I made have made. I'm not great at grammar, and my word processor stupid.
Minita: Sorry for taking so long… but… well I got the first part: updating. )
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Mango-Burst13: I agree, but I think being stuck swimming in metallic colors will be very uncomfortable. But then again, having a connection with Draco sounds 12431234141234x better. :
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