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The Joke Book Trap	By : TalisRuadair Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 10791 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I am not making any money from this fiction. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen.

Chapter List
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Chapter Ten – Confessions

George stared at the letter he received from Nott. He looked at the writing with little concern. He smiled; perhaps the ferret deserved the pain she was giving him. He always was such an arrogant prat. The idea caused a smile to flit across his face and a mischievous glint appeared in his brown eyes, which was almost nonexistent since his twin’s death. He opened the master copy of the book and decided to read about the torture she was putting the incredible bouncing ferret through. He really hoped reading the story would cause more entertainment than reading about Harry running around with his dead father, dead godfather, and dead DA professor friend. Also, his heart ached when he realized that he and Fred were Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee in Ginny’s adventure. He didn’t even read about Ron’s adventure because he always thought going through a wardrobe into a mystical world was quite boring. There were so many better ways to travel than through a vanishing cabinet. He smiled and started reading the muggle book he’d never read before, but Fred had as soon as Hermione told him it was her favorite. Sadly, his dead twin had a crush on the Muggleborn bookworm for some time. George couldn’t help but wonder how things might’ve been different if his brother hadn’t died during the final battle.

Draco left his visit with Hermione wondering if she was beginning to see past his walls. Was she actually opening up to the idea or the possibility that he changed. He admitted to changing but he was still not as courageous as a Gryffindor. He knew what scene was coming up and he knew how poorly Mr. Darcy shared his feelings with Elizabeth. He couldn’t help but wonder if he should follow the scripting of the marriage proposal or if he should express his own growing feelings toward her. He was afraid of rejection, but how could he ever find out how she felt about him if he let his fear control him. He was tired of being ruled by fear and ready to embrace his hidden Gryffindor. So, perhaps the best way to tell her the way he felt was to wing it. He couldn’t think of one thing he wanted to say every time he put his quill to parchment. There was no point in rehearsing a speech he was incapable of writing.

The days passed with him visiting the Collins’ regularly with Harry, but much like Mr. Darcy, he couldn’t find the words he wanted to say. He felt too awkward to speak to her, but he enjoyed hearing her voice and being around her. Whenever he saw her go for a walk through the park, he couldn’t help but follow. However, whenever she happened upon him he quickly retreated. The warmth he felt in his chest whenever he saw her was not like anything he ever felt before. She wasn’t anything like the traditional woman who’d chase after him. He couldn’t place what was going on, but a little voice in the back of his head, which sounded too much like Nott, exclaimed that he was falling in love. Draco was trapped in one of the Greatest Muggle Romance Novel’s ever, and he was starting to fit the part he was playing a little too closely. There was too much tragedy in his life for him to deserve a happy ending, but he wanted one whenever he looked into those warm mahogany eyes. He loved how they’d sparkle whenever she smiled. He was falling hard for a woman of whom his parents would never approve.

His heart filled with dread when the day arrived. He saw Hermione engaging in discourse with Harry as they walked through the park. When the Collins’ arrived to tea at Rosings without her stating that she stayed home because she didn’t feel well, he knew. She had the conversation with Harry regarding Mr. Darcy’s involvement in her dear sister’s heartbreak. He knew that the character was in an emotional mess; however he couldn’t believe that Hermione would be in one. He however, was concerned for her and rushed down to the parsonage. He rushed into the room inquiring in regards to her health much like the character. Only because he wasn’t prepared for what he was about to do.

Hermione was just as cold to him as Elizabeth was to Darcy. He sat down for a few moments before pacing the room. He managed to remain in the silent room before walking toward her not able to shake the fear that influenced his movement, “In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” Hermione remained silent, her face colored, even though he was sure she expected the remainder of Darcy’s proposal to fall from his lips. He continued, but this time spoke the words belonging to him, “I understand that your blood is seen as inferior to many in my social circles. It’s likely that my parents will not approve of my feelings for you. Also there’s the Gryffindor and Slytherin rivalry that is against us. The fact that I was on the opposing side of a war where many on of your friends and your kind were murdered at my acquaintances’ hands exists and forces a wedge between us.

“However, much like Mr. Darcy’s feelings grew out of undesirable circumstances, sometimes one cannot see the value of someone until those prejudices given to him by his father is no longer limiting his view. In the time of this book, I’d be asking for your hand, but alas in the time we’re from, I’d have to start by asking you to consider and allow me to court you. I’ve grown to know you better in the weeks and months within this book than I have in the seven years we’ve been enemies. I could follow the arrogance and conceit placed upon me at birth, which makes me similar to the role I’m portraying. However, I’d much prefer to admit that you are my superior in many scholarly aspects and that I am no where deserving of your acceptance. You are an angel of light and I’ve spent far too much of my life in darkness. Perhaps it’s your light that draws me like a moth to the flame. I cannot help but inquire if you’d do me the honor of accepting my request. I want to get you know you better Hermione.”

Hermione crossed her arms and scowled, “What are you playing at Malfoy? Were you hoping that I’d develop feeling for you while we’re trapped in this novel? Did you expect me to swoon at such an eloquent turn phrase? Even Voldemort could have a way with words, how else would he have gathered so many of superior blood to bow down to a half-blood like him? You’re a Slytherin Malfoy, and your father was silver tongued, I cannot help but feel you got your gift from him. I may be a Gryffindor, and I may wear my emotions on my sleeve, however I will not freely hand you my heart only to watch you crush it. You do not understand the meaning of the word love. Sure you understand hatred, jealousy, fear, power, and even lust, but a Death Eater like you could never love. You heart is as black as the lord you bowed down to and served. You tortured people, you attempted to murder, and only Dumbledore’s words saved him from your wand, his promises to protect your family, which only shows your selfishness. You’re right when you said that you’re not deserving of me. You will never have the qualities I seek in partner. You will never be anything more than a vile, loathsome, cockroach like you showed yourself to be in third year.”

Draco could feel his cheeks color and a stabbing pain in his heart but he quickly hid his vulnerability. He had reason to fear that day. He had reason to want to avoid it and not share his true feelings for her. How could he let himself hope that she could possibly return his growing affection? He knew that Elizabeth hadn’t grown feelings or even look past Mr. Darcy’s exterior until he proved himself a better man.

She continued to speak, “I could accuse you of everything Elizabeth accused Darcy of; however, my observations of you are quite different. You only went along with separating Jane and Bingley because you went along with the book, but you also showed your cowardice by running away from me. You could not fathom the possibility that someone could escape your allure. Just because every shallow woman at Hogwarts chase after you because of your good looks and wealth, doesn’t mean the same is true for me. I am not a starry eyed school girl. When I look at you, I see the person you are. I see the bigot who looked down upon me because of my blood status. I see the boy who was jealous of me because of my scores and Harry because of his unwanted attention. You focused on us because of it, and when your father was rightfully imprisoned for his acts at the Department of Mysteries, you decided to stomp on Harry’s nose.

“I’m shocked that my mind has casted him as Darcy’s jovial cousin. There is no way in our reality; Harry would ever spend time with the likes of you. I understand his hero complex required him to testify for you and your family. You did do us a favor of not giving us away, however you chased after us in the Room of Requirement. You threatened Harry and demanded your wand back, when you knew he needed it to survive an altercation with Voldemort. I think you wanted that snake to win or perhaps it was your desire of survival that motivated you. You never truly took a side, which just proves you are not a man of your own convictions. You are easily persuaded by your friends and family. I fear you do not possess an opinion that is truly your own, as you’ve spent years spitting out your father’s rhetoric. Are you not even capable of thought?”

He felt enraged at her accusations and began pacing, “That is your opinion of me then? This is the estimation you hold me to? I thank you for explaining your beliefs so fully to me. My faults, of which you have so articulately stripped from me, do seem to paint me in the darkest light. But perhaps,” he stopped walking and turned to look upon Hermione’s face, “these offenses would’ve been overlooked had we not had the history we have. If I had not wounded your pride by continually berating you for your blood inferiority then maybe, just maybe, you would’ve been less ruthless with your response. Perhaps you could’ve seen the authentic feelings behind my words. Do you really think I didn’t consider my own faults before I expressed them to you? Do you believe that I would rejoice that I’ve fallen for someone my parents wouldn’t approve? Do you think I’d be willing to risk disinheritance and being as poor as a Weasley, if I didn’t have genuine feelings for you? Of course not, you’re so used to being right that you cannot even fathom the possibility that your perception of me is wrong.”

The fire in her eyes faded and she spoke with the upmost composure. Her voice was similar as to when she was explaining the twelve uses of dragon’s blood in potions class. She was detached, “You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, that it spared the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.” Draco went ridged at her scripting, as he knew he’d never know her true feelings because she was hiding behind Elizabeth Bennet. He remained silent and she continued to speak, “You could not have made the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it.”

His mouth popped open and quickly shut as he understood the undercurrent of her words. She was speaking them because she agreed with what was said in the book. She continued and with each word another sharp pain attacked his heart, “From the very beginning—from the first moment, I may almost say—of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike, and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.”

Draco felt his mask completely snap into place as he responded as expected, “You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.” Draco quickly left the room with those words and almost ran from the house. His heart was poundings and her words were circling his mind, tears threatened to spill from his eyes, as his composed face began to crack. He knew in that moment, he would never be seen as anything more than a childhood bully turned Death Eater. He would never be accepted by the light because of the dark path he was forced to walk.*

Draco pulled out his copy of Pride and Prejudice to review the wonderfully worded letter from Mr. Darcy to Elizabeth Bennet is cherished by every girl who reads it. He knew that he had to take a chance and write his own story down upon the parchment instead of Darcy’s. He had to explain to her about things that no one, not even his parents knew. Things he’d even kept from spilling to his closest friend, Theo. He knew he was taking a huge risk by explaining why he singled her out in second year and spat the obscenity Mudblood at her. He would have to explain the pressure placed upon him to make friends with Harry Potter by his father. The disappointment he felt when he failed at the first task his father ever gave him. He would have to explain that he’d made the Slytherin Quidditch Team on his own merit and that his father bought the team brooms to give them all a better chance of winning since he was on the team. It hurt him so badly when one of them accused him of buying his way on, and it weakened his former feeling of accomplishment. With one sentence, he felt as inferior as the day before he’d tried out for the team.

He knew he’d have to explain the reasons behind taking the dark mark and relive the horror that was his sixth year. He wiped the tears from his eyes knowing he would even have to explain what he felt as he watched his aunt, who scared him greatly, torture her in the parlor of his childhood home. It was polluted and he could never walk into that room again without seeing her pain filled eyes. The blood still remained on their carpet where Mudblood was carved into her left arm. He wanted to run from his past and lock it all away. Of course, it never stopped the nightmares. He would have to explain how his family was under even tighter house arrest after they escaped and how he wasn’t allowed to return to Hogwarts until the final battle. He would have to explain all of the horrors he saw during his absence from the school. The feeling he felt without his wand. His mother’s had felt so wrong and his desire have that familiar Hawthorne and unicorn haired one back in his hands. Harry had made sure that Draco had to forcefully disarm his old wand from him to make sure it’s alliance would change back.

He would have to explain too many things he wished to never remember. He’d have to revisit the nearly destroyed castle that was his only other home. Everything was polluted with darkness and nothing could be done. Everywhere he went, he remembered the wizard who made his family’s lives miserable for two years. He never thought he’d ever consider telling her any of it. He never thought he’d share his thoughts, concerns, fears, and nightmares with another human being, let alone the Gryffindor princess. He picked up his quill and sighed as the first mark was made on the parchment. He knew that he’d even have to express his regrets. He would have to bare his soul to a woman who was so superior to him, she would never return the feelings he’d developed for her. Sure, she’d have to pretend for the end of the book and he might get one free kiss. He shook the thought from his mind, as he knew it would be worse to taste her lips and know that he’d never do so again.

He bypassed walking the park knowing she’d be waiting for him in the lane. She would play her part by the book to make sure they were able to exit it upon the story’s end. He found her walking back and forth to the lane and called out the character’s name, so she’d expect the letter he’d give her would be none other than the piece of transcript found in the pages of her beloved book. However, she’d soon be surprised at his boldness. He sighed as he continued walking toward her. To be trusted by a Gryffindor, one must possess the bravery to bear one’s soul knowing the feelings were unrequited.

The both of them reached the gate of the park around the same time. He held out the letter, which she took. He kept his face schooled behind the Malfoy mask of arrogance and haughty composure. He kept his mind protected with his knowledge of Occlumency and he only spoke what was expected of him, “I have been walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you. Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?” He quickly bowed and walked back to the building where the likeness of his crazy, sadistic aunt awaited with the pug faced Pansy, a stranger, and an overly lighthearted Harry Potter. He shook his head as he realized the only one he looked forward to seeing was Harry. He couldn’t help but wonder how much the boy who saved everyone’s arse was alike to the character of his likeness. Would he really get along with the bespectacled man? Was there a possibility that they could one day be friends or would his hand of friendship be refused a second time?

A/N: Do you wonder what he wrote in the letter? I’m trying to figure out whether or not I should include it in the next chapter. I fear that I cannot stand up the letter written by Jane Austen for Mr. Darcy, however I could always share my attempt. What do you guys think? Would you like to read the letter that Draco wrote to Hermione, or would you like me to skip it?

*This scene belongs in chapter thirty-five of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice (1813). However, the situation is changed and alludes to the actual scene as the dialog is original.
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The Joke Book Trap