A/N: Some of you may know me – those who decided to open this story because it showed up in their emails that I wrote a new one. Others of you, bear with me. I am currently writing an Ino/Gaara story called Breathe: Of Flowers and Sand – so if you would like – if you're interested you can check that out. I'm almost done with the third chapter. I've also recently received reviews to update a story I haven't touched since I was in 8th grade. So, I'm also updating Lemonade Anyone? However, in the car tonight, I caught myself singing along to rock songs on the radio, and remembered the quote, "And in that moment, we were infinite" from The Perks of Being a Wallflower. The highway sprawled out in front of me, empty, and a story idea popped into my head.
So here's the summary:
The war was over. Two years had passed as students waited for Hogwarts to rebuild itself, and for most of the student body to be willingly able to return. Trauma is a difficult thing to bare through. Ron and Harry, for example, didn't return to Hogwarts. Hermione did.
McGonagall decided to lighten the mood that year and introduced a mandatory class – Karaoke Class. The students gathered in the Great Hall stared at her in wonder. What the fuck? The premise: Every person in the class must sing one song about how they felt about the previous week – a song that summarizes their feelings, fears, hopes, dreams – anything.
The songs can be wizarding, or muggle songs. They can even write the songs themselves and sing acapella. During this class, there would be food, and for the 7th and 6th years, drinks. Yes, the students heard right, alcoholic drinks. McGonagall introduced this class, as she explained to the Head Boy and Girl, to keep a close eye on the morale of the school.
But as per usual, things got a bit trickier than McGonagall was expecting.
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Chapter 1: A New Start, a New Year, A New Class
Hermione sighed. She quietly took a seat next to Ginny for the first welcoming dinner at Hogwarts since the war. The table was slightly emptier than she recalled. A pang of pain shot through her. Some were dead, others couldn't bear to return – like Harry and Ron. Her obsessive compulsive disorder wouldn't allow her mental rest unless she completed every task, and that included suffering through psychological torture of walking the halls her friends were murdered in in order to complete her education at Hogwarts. She saw a psychologist because her friends thought she was nuts to go back – she has been diagnosed. This was a real thing, a real issue she's always had. Smiling softly to herself, she realized that's why she was always anal about everything; it was an OCD compulsion. She was just glad it didn't present itself with door knobs and knocking, and weird ticks like that. At least this helped her in life. Well, besides this time around. This time it was torturing her.
Ginny started small chat and Hermione joined in, quietly giggling at something the girl would say, attempting to cheer up the older girl. But Ginny was the one to talk. One of her brothers was dead, the other missing an ear. The psychologist said that was her way of coping – exaggerating her own happiness to stop herself from falling into a pit of depression she'd never recover from. The grand hall doors flew open and McGonagall, the new headmistress, strode with her back straight and head high, almost gliding on the floor, but Hermione could tell she was stiff with terror. Leading a whole school of thousands of prepubescent and pubescent kids wasn't an easy task. Ginny commented that McGonagall looked as if she would resign because she simply wouldn't be able to handle the task without Dumbledore.
Swallow.
Swallowing was hard, but Hermione did notice that Ginny shed a tear when a bunch of first years walked in. That bunch was practically a thousand. This year's 11 year olds, last year's 11 year olds, now 12.
Well, at least the tables will fill up, and it won't look as empty, the brunette thought.
"May I have your attention?" McGonagall was standing up in what was once Dumbledore's spot.
She gave it a few seconds and the Grand Hall eventually fell silent.
"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Thank you for coming back, thank you for keeping safe, thank you for continuing to attend in honor and in memory of fellow students who are unable to return. And thank you, dear first years, for trusting us enough to start your education here, at Hogwarts. I have a few announcements and then the sorting can begin."
Everyone looked up, interested.
"We will introduce a new class this year, at Hogwarts. Karaoke Class, I have decided to call it."
Someone whispered what the fuck loudly enough for it to actually echo. McGonagall shot a stern look in the direction of the sound.
"I know it sounds, well, weird."
"That's one way to describe it," another student, possibly Slytherin, murmured. Ginny laughed and took out a piece of parchment.
You can hear a pin drop it's so quiet in here, whispering won't help, they're so daft, it's funny!
Hermione raised an eyebrow reading and had to stifle a giggle.
"But, this class is here to – relax you. Every week, you have to sing one song of your own choosing that describes how you feel, what happened to you in that week, anything that really speaks to you. These songs can be muggle or wizardry of origin. There will be food for all years, and drinks for the 6th and 7th years only. I hope you find this class, relaxing, and easy, I suppose."
The Great Hall remained silent after her speech, so giving the audience an anxious nod, "Let the sorting begin!" was heard by Hagrid. The Grand Hall burst with rumor, laughter, and talk of this new Karaoke class.
The sorting took twice as long this year, for obvious reasons, and then came the moment where Head Boy and Girl would be announced. The Head Boy and Girl had been sent an owl of the their title a month before school was back in session, but they were not told who the other would be. So, when everyone was in their seats, and the food had vanished, McGonagall tapped her glass with a silver spoon to get everyone's attention again.
"It is time, as every year, for me to announce the Head Boy and Girl this year. As many of you know, Head Boy and Girl carry different responsibilities, and have different perks. This year, however, and possibly the next, since the Head Boy and Girl are 19, a new set of rules will be in place.
The Head Boy and Girl have their own common room, their own private rooms in the Head Tower. They are in charge of the prefects, and have to do their rounds, too. Note, curfew this year is set at 8 pm for the first and second years, 9 pm for the 3rd and 4th years, and 10 pm for the 5th years. The sixth and seventh years have a curfew of 11:30 pm – as they are not 16 and 17 anymore, but legal adults at the ages of 18 and 19 respectively. Head's will be the last to do rounds, at 11:30, and do not have a curfew themselves.
They answer to no one but me, the Headmistress.
The title of Head Boy and Girl is prestigious here at Hogwarts, and isn't easily earned, and usually, it is those that strive for that title since their first day at Hogwarts that usually get it. This year, the honor falls to, drum roll please…"
Students excitedly started to drum roll on their tables, creating a loud booming noise through the Grand Hall which heightened the anxiety of the atmosphere. McGonagall raised her hand to signal for the drumming to stop.
"Miss Hermione Granger of Gryffindor!"
A loud series of shrieks, whistles, whoops, and yeahs resounded as the iconic wizard hats flew up from the whole Gryffindor table.
"And Mr. Draco Malfoy of Slytherin."
Hermione spit out her orange juice all over an unsuspecting third year that sat opposite her.
"WHAT!?"
Two tables down, in unison, Draco Malfoy had the same reaction.
It didn't matter that Malfoy had changed sides during the war or that he was in the end was regarded as a war hero. It didn't matter that he was finally able to no longer have to uphold some face façade that he hated muggles, and would rather see them burn in hell than share physical space with them. It didn't matter that Harry and he shook hands, and that he had taken recent interest in the Muggles, finding them intriguing and exquisitely exciting – I mean have you seen New York!?
This was GRANGER that they were talking about.
Hermione – motherfucking – GRANGER.
Their history went deeper than blood. Their hatred by the end of it, had nothing to DO with blood.
They couldn't occupy the same space because they HATED each other – each other's personality, looks, arrogance. She was Miss Fucking Know-It-All-Because-I-Studied-All-Summer-In-Advance!
No. Draco stood up from the table. Absolutely fucking not.
"NO!"
And once again, it was shouted in unison. He could see her down the hall, standing up from her seat as well, exasperated just like him.
"See!?" He yelled up at McGonagall. "Even SHE is against it – couldn't you have picked someone else!?"
"You bloody prat!" she spat at him across the hall, yelling, "WHAT, YOU get to be HEAD BOY because you're somehow more entitled than ME to get that position, while I who have been slaving my GODDAMN ASS OFF for the last, not six, but EIGHT years for the job, am suddenly replaced because it doesn't suit YOUR NEEDS?"
She turned to face McGonagall, "IF ANYTHING HE SHOULD BE THE ONE REPLACED! ALL HE EVER DID WAS CAUSE TROUBLE. THE ONLY REASON HIS RECORD IS SPOTLESS IS BECAUSE HE RAN TO DADDY EVERY TIME HE GOT IN TROUBLE." She spat her insults towards him again.
"Why you FILTHY LITTLE –"
"What, MUDBLOOD?"
And the only people in the hall that understood this sudden raging, screaming argument where the 6th years. The rest of the hall just sat in silence stunned at the – what did Hogwarts like to call it – ah yes, inter-house unity, or rather, lack thereof.
Draco sneered at her, about to respond, but he was cut off by McGonagall.
"ENOUGH!"
They quietly sat back down like the good students they were, sending one last hateful look in each other's direction.
"You two WILL get along or you will BOTH be stripped of your titles. You two got this position because BOTH of you had something to offer to this school, and if YOU two can get along, then everyone else will follow suit. So act like adults and get on with your jobs."
"Yes, headmistress," the two muttered.
"Excuse me?" the stern older woman raised an eyebrow.
"YES, HEADMISTRESS."
"Feels like fucking boot camp," Hermione whispered spitefully to Ginny, who giggled.
"What a way to start the year," the girl let out a long held sigh and laughed at her curly haired friend, "this should be one hell of a year, don't you think, 'mione?"
Hermione shot her a sarcastic smile, and the redhead doubled over laughing.
"Well this is one way for McGonagall to change the mood of this place. Sure, it feels dead without everyone, but your bickering with Malfoy is sure to take our minds off things every once in a while.
Hermioned rolled her eyes, and groaned dropping her head onto the wooden table.
"Ow."
At this sight, half the table started to giggle.
"You are dismissed. Have a wonderful year everyone, and hopefully we can end it with BOTH of our Heads."
Cheers rang through the hall once again, except this time, with reservation.
What the hell was with the two heads of school this year? The Golden Trio and The Slytherin Prince hatred was only well known to their year, the year beneath them, and maybe a select few others. So it wasn't weird that most of the school was shell shocked at the earlier display. Wouldn't take long for the rumors to start.
Just as Hermione was about to get up and leave with Ginny, McGonagall cleared her voice.
"Heads, stay behind."
Ginny shot her an apologetic look, and tried to beat the first years back to the Gryffindor common room.
Once the hall was empty, Draco and Hermione, now forced to stand next to each other leaned against the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables, waiting for McGonagall to come back around.
From the Ravenclaw table, Draco sneered, and Hermione, fake kicked him. Ravenclaw and Gryffindor were right next to each other, so while still too far away to actually kick him, Draco did flinch in anticipation of pain. Instinct, or whatchamacallit.
The kick was high and almost graceful. She was stretchy, he noted to himself. Ignoring the She could've broken my nose with that kick thoughts, he set his eyes back on the Grand table in front of him.
McGonagall returned, brushing her skirts and took a seat on the sorting stool in front of them.
"Okay, so, before you two get on with your usual spiteful banter, which I beg of you to keep on the down low in front of students, at least to keep up with images, I have some explaining to do, don't I?"
"If you're talking about Granger being Head Girl, then yeah."
McGonagall rolled her eyes, and was grateful that this time, Hermione kept her mouth shut. Didn't stop her from snapping her neck in his direction and having a flame of pure fury burn within them, but at least she didn't retort.
"No, Mr. Malfoy, I meant about the Karaoke class."
Arms crossed, the two students, still tense from their close proximity, seemed to relax just a little bit, as if to tell each other that they'd deal with their issues later, and their jobs came first, just this one time.
"So, the reason I chose this class – well it came as an idea while I was in Japan. I saw that everyone would constantly go to these karaoke clubs, and they looked like so much fun. People would be drunk, and eating barbecued food, and giggling, and girls would sing their love out for their crushes, and it seemed like a great way for people to relax and bond – apparently they would always go in groups of at least 10 people, and it would – change up sometimes, in a very normal relaxed fashion. Since people were friends, it didn't matter that one day someone wouldn't come, or someone who's not usually part of their group would join at some point."
Draco and Hermione, for the umpteenth time that day, raised their eyebrows together.
McGonagall smiled, realizing that these two students were almost synced with each other even though they'd never admit it.
"What does that have to do with us – you may be asking?"
Two nods.
"Well, I thought it would raise morale. If people could get together and sing and have fun, why not?"
Hermione began to speak, but was cut short by McGonagall who continued.
"I then visited America."
"What's that?" Draco asked innocently. Hermione burst out laughing. America was the only place in the world that didn't have "wizarding schools" or a community of wizards. They were too obsessed with killing them that the wizards could never thrive there. Ever since the Salem witch trials, the wizarding community of America went into hiding. In most places, they no longer even existed. However, the amount of witch hunters was on the rise with Supernatural.
"What Granger?" he sneered.
"America is muggle heaven, if you will, since they absolutely are terrified of wizards. Since the Salem Witch Trials in the 1600s, the American population has dedicated their life to killing us off, if you will."
Malfoy made a face, "But you WOULD know this if you read up on your wizardry history."
He rolled his eyes, "Why would I want to know anything about the muggle world that's made it their job to kill us?"
"Well," McGonagall interjected before Hermione could respond, "I was there to visit family that moved to the U.S right before the war broke up, and one of my nieces wanted me to escort her to Warped Tour. There it was that I noticed that people listen to, sing along to, and actual almost adore music that speaks to them – their life, their feelings, their background, hopes, and dreams all are embodied in their – what do they call it – play list. Different types of music or more than one type of music speak to each individual on a different level. I have also read muggle reports, or what they call, clinical studies in the realm of the human mind, or what they dubbed it as Psychology, that music is used as therapy in some cases. So consider this as a social experiment."
Hermione tried to argue but couldn't. McGonagall was right. Music is used as therapy, and she cannot count the amount of times she had turned to music in her own times of need. Music was there to fill a void, to express, to imagine – sound has an inexplicable effect on the human psyche, and there really was no down side to Karaoke Class.
It was in that moment that an idea occurred to Hermione.
"Prof – I mean, Headmistress, while there are a number of muggle students, most are either half-bloods or purebloods who have very rarely come into contact with muggle music. Why not make a 'tutorial class' twice a month where students have to go out into the muggle world, and learn about it, do projects, etc."
While Draco had taken an interest in muggles, his interests have never actually led him to … associate with them. Open minded as he had become in the last two years, this was still a big step forward. It took him a whole month to learn about what movies are. He'd look stupid among them, and one thing Draco Malfoy was most definitely not, was stupid. Why not learn about muggles from the safety of the magic world?
"Why would that be a good idea, Granger?" He sneered at her. She had no idea of his recent secret research sessions into the muggle world, and he planned for her to never find out. Just because someone is interesting, doesn't mean you want to consort with them, yeah?
"Because muggle music is better than wizard music. You guys have two bands total."
He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms across his chest, leaning back onto the Ravenclaw table.
"We both know that's not true."
"Even so, it's only one genre of music. You guys don't have rock, or metal, or punk, or techno, or dubstep. Wizard music is a mixture of jazz and classical, with very weird lyrics."
Draco rolled his eyes at her and they both turned to look at the Headmistress one more time.
She coughed a bit, clearing her throat and smiled weakly, "I actually quite like that idea, Hermione. Why not?"
Smiling triumphantly, Hermione pushed herself off of the Gryffindor table, "Are we excused?"
A curt nod was all the two young adults needed.
The walk to the common room was silent.
Entrance into the common room was silent.
They didn't even react to the beautiful room that they would call home for the next year. It was a royal purple common room, with a grey and comfortable couch facing a fireplace, almost three times as big as the fireplace in their house common rooms. Two beautiful arm chairs obviously from the same set were angled to face a small mahogany and glass coffee table. A kitchenette was to the right of the entrance, and a bathroom stood in the middle of an almost grand staircase that split into two leading to an indoor balcony. To the right, a Gryffindor flag was hung over a door, and to the left was another door with the Slytherin flag. Far from each other as possible – except the bathroom – that was shared.
Tall windows rose from the floor to the level of the indoor balcony, and where there were no windows, there were bookcases – as if all the books from the library were somehow moved into their own private collection. A dining table, from the same set as the coffee table, and dining room chairs that perfectly matched. It was a common room that was anything but common; a luxury suite more like, a safe haven, a personal heaven.
Up the stairs and into their respective rooms they went, slamming their doors simultaneously behind them.
Now the rooms were even more exquisite, if that was even possible. Beneath an English Victorian window – with three arches cascading down from ceiling to floor – was a four poster queen size bed, and by all accounts, Hermione could swear it was an American type bed. One mattress for mattress sake, another, 16 inch thick mattress for comfort, on top of which another comforter was placed, a red bed cover, gold and red puffy pillows with smaller throw pillows that were scattered over the incredibly thick duvet, which like the rest of her room, was red and gold. A desk sat opposite it, and to the right of the bed was a large mahogany dresser. Placed against the left side wall was a vanity. Smiling to herself for the first time since arriving to Hogwarts, Hermione threw her bag onto her bed, and began to unpack.
Draco's room was exactly the same, except instead of a vanity for him, a floor length mirror was in its place, and on either side, nailed to the wall were little shelves, zigzagging, Draco assumed for personal use.
Taking a deep breath, he too allowed himself a soft smile and got to unpacking. This year may be torturously long because of Granger and this stupid Karaoke class, but at least, at the end of the day, this is what he would get to run away to.
One thing was wrong. Only one thing. If one listened really closely, they could hear the other – through the walls. This was discovered when Hermione heard a suffocated fuck, and lifted her head curious to where the sound came from. A muffled 'for the love of Merlin' and Hermione groaned. Draco.
Draco was pacing back and forth across the room. He was the type that the minute you pick something out of your suitcase, you automatically go and place it where it belongs. Which, the way the elves packed for him, required a lot of here, and there, and back, and wait no that goes over there. It was only a matter of time before he stubbed his little toe on the metal leg of the bed.
"Fuck!" He jumped back whimpering in pain, and as he staggered back on one leg, fell flat onto his ass.
"Oh for the love of Merlin!" exasperated, and now in double the pain, Draco furrowed his eyebrows. What a great fucking start.
A groan. Muffled, but a groan none the less. His pinky and ass were still pulsating in pain, but Draco ignored it as he tried to figure out where the sound was coming from.
"Ferret, can you hear me?" It was distant, but distinct. It was muffled, but still clearly audible.
"Granger?"
"Sound proof your walls, now. I'll do the same. I don't want to be waken up in the middle of the night to your bed squeaking, and some slut whimpering your name."
Draco burst out laughing, "You won't be hearing us if you're getting action, too. Oh I forget, you're the Hogwarts prude. At the age of 19, you're still a virgin, no?"
"I'm not arguing with you through a wall, that's just insane. Sound proof it, Malfoy."
Giggling, Draco got up and resumed unpacking, this time, with a small limp.
What day is it? Friday?
She quickly checked her phone's calendar, and sadly stared at the no service at the top before locking the screen.
Yeah, it's Friday.
Hermione had charmed a pair batteries to work endlessly, and glided across the room to the vanity to connect her muggle speakers it to her iPod.
Scroll. Scroll. Scroll. Hm. Scroll, scroll, ah yes. The Cure.
"I don't care if Monday's black, Tuesday, Wednesday heart attack, Thursday never looking back. It's Friday I'm in love."
Hermione giggled. It was one of her favorite songs. Having finished packing, she turned her speakers up and started to dance in her extremely spacious room.
Would come in handy for Yoga – oh this is just too good.
A knock came on her door, and frustrated and flustered from dancing, she moved to open the door. She practically tore the door open, just enough so he could see her, but not into her room. What the fuck did he want?
"What the HELL are you listening to, Granger?"
"The Cure, and why the HELL didn't you sound proof your room like I asked?"
"In case you ever feel frisky and decide to touch yourself, I wanted to hear you moan."
She gave him a disgusted face, turned on her heels and slammed the door behind her, "Goodbye, Malfoy."
He smirked happily to himself and walked back to his own room.
Who the hell was The Cure, and how would he find out? Deciding to not sound proof his room just yet, he listened to the music Hermione had on in her room.
"I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed, get along with the voices inside of my head. You're trying to save me, stop holding your breath. And you think I'm crazy, yeah you think I'm crazy. Well, that's not fair!"
And a few minutes later.
"Nice to meet you, where you been? I can show you incredible things. Magic, madness, heaven, sin, saw you there and I thought, 'Oh my God, look at that face. You look like my next mistake. Love's a game, wanna play?"
Ahahahaha, yeah that sounds like a typical girl song. Catchy, he had to admit.
"And you don't want to be here in the future/So you say/The present's just a pleasant/Interruption to the past/And you don't want to look much closer/'Cause you're afraid to find out all the hope/That you had sent into the sky by now had... crashed/And it did because of me/And then you bring me home/Afraid to find out that you're alone, no/And I'm sleeping in your living room/But we don't have much room/To live"
Draco, sure as all living hell that it was past midnight, listened to the muffled noise coming from Hermione's room. She surely fell asleep, and left her music on. He wondered if she sleeps better that way. She probably didn't even play this song on purpose – but it was on a continuous stream. He found the song oddly hitting so close to home it actually hurt. The singer's voice, even through the wall, was enough to any human to sleep. Staring at his hands, he sighed and turned onto his side.
He had to remember to ask Hermione tomorrow what this song was called.
"But we don't have much room… to live…"
- End chapter -
A/N: So I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Any editing issues, any grammar issues, constructive criticism is always a bonus to any writer.
Hope the writing isn't confusing. If it is, I'll change it up a little.
This story will not be short, this will not be Draco already in love with her afraid to show his feelings. But it WILL be rated M for future chapters and vile language.
Thank you, thank you.
Also, all the lyrics belong to the respective artists – the Cure, Rihanna, Taylor Swift, and Something Corporate. Obviously Harry Potter does not belong to me. Note: DraMione was a legit thing always – J.K changed the pairing in the end because it would be too big of a plot twist. So, let's try and make it… believe-able, yes?
Until next time.