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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
- 5
- 6
- 7
Chapter Six – Riddled with Defects

Theo continued to read the book and tried to hold back the tears forming in his eyes at Draco’s thoughts about killing, maiming, and overall harming the annoying Ginny Weasley. Of course, Theo knew Ginny well enough from their day to day interactions that she acted nothing like the character Miss Bingley. He knew that he’d be just as frustrated with the ever so flirtatious complimenting and jealous woman. She was lucky it wasn’t him there because he would’ve used the killing curse on her by that point. Draco, on the other hand was not quite aware that Hermione knew about his presence in the novel. He was still trying to play his part, so that she wouldn’t find out it really was him and hex him.

Theo hoped that she used the opportunity before her to get him to talk. He knew that there was so much that Draco was keeping in side. There was still so many conflicting emotions storming within his friend, and hopefully the brightest witch of their age could do something about it. George had responded to his letter telling him that the books were designed to give those who’d suffered most in the war the opportunity for escape from the harsh reality. Theo couldn’t help but wonder if that was why some of their deceased friends were portraying the characters. He was just thankful that Vincent’s character didn’t interact more in the novel with Mr. Darcy. He really didn’t think Draco could handle seeing his dead friend too often, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Hermione was coping with the amount of interaction she had to have with her dead friend Tonks.

Draco was at the end of his rope, the female Weasley in real life wasn’t nearly as annoying as the giddy and jealous girl before him. However, it was like she had been mixed with Pansy and the Greengrass sisters. She was overly caddy and attempted to provoke him or overly complement him. A man can only handle so many comments about a bloody letter he’s writing before he snaps. He was relieved that the long haired Weasley and Hermione decided to interject before he exploded from her attention. He hated being in her presence when Hermione wasn’t present like the moment he was currently experiencing. Of course, it was his fault for going on a walk through the shrubbery with her. What the hell was he thinking? Well he was following the bloody book, so he could get away from the torture.

“I hope you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue; and if you can compass it, do sure the younger girls of running after officers. And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavor to check that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence, which your lady possesses.”*

Draco looked ahead as they walked arm in arm, “Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?”*

“Oh! Yes. Do let the portraits of your Uncle and Aunt Phillips be placed in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great-uncle the judge. They are in the same profession, you know, only in different lines. As for your Elizabeth’s picture, you must not have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?”*

“It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, but their colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied,”* he was seriously enjoying goading her as much as she attempted to goad him. However, the character didn’t understand that he had been staring at Hermione’s eyes since fourth year when she arrived to the Yule Ball on Victor Krum’s arm.

After that last comment, Astoria and Hermione joined them on their walk where Ginny feigned ignorance, “I did not know that you intended to walk.”*

“You used us abominably ill running away without telling us that you were coming out,”* Astoria lightly pouted. She then left Elizabeth to walk by herself as she took Draco’s open arm and that path was too narrow for more than three to walk.

Draco spoke up on Hermione’s behalf. He couldn’t believe how rude the other two were being, “This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the avenue.”*

“No, no; stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and appear to uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a fourth. Good-bye.”* She happily ran off without them. Draco noticed that Jane was getting better as if she’d been administered a Pepper up Potion. He couldn’t help but wonder if Hermione was trying to hurry along Jane’s recovery because she wanted to get away from him. He really wished she would’ve stayed with him longer because he was quickly getting sick of being surrounded by the Bingley sisters, as they reminded him too much of girls from his house. If he was going to escape from reality, he’d rather not have to deal with the same crap in the fictional world he escaped to. Sure, it was an accident, but he was already sick of being chased.

That evening Jane seemed well enough to be sitting in the Parlor with the other three ladies when he and the other two gentlemen arrived. Draco followed the scene as he read it in the book. He declined the card game, where the she-weasel followed him to the corner of the room he sat and informed Theo that no one was to play cards that night. Theo seemed rather bored since there was nothing to do and lay down upon the sofa and went to sleep. The other male Weasley was busy speaking with Jane, who still seemed somehow familiar to Draco, though he was yet to place her face or remember her name from his reality. The two of them were merrily chatting like any courting couple would. Draco selected a book to read, which was once again written in Latin. Astoria flitted around to where Jane and her brother sat and would join in with their conversation now and then when she wasn’t busy admiring her own bracelets. However, Draco wished the Gryffindor Chaser would pay attention to her book more than his own. She would look over Draco’s shoulder and ask a question about what he was reading. He clenched his jaw as he never liked anyone looking over his shoulder. He didn’t like her close proximity because he didn’t trust her and he didn’t like having people he didn’t trust within his personal space.***

The annoying redhead showed her boredom with her book, which she chose according to the novel, was because it was the second volume to the book he was reading by yawning, “How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.”**

Draco pinched the bridge of the nose as he continued to look down at his book. He could tell that she was insinuating that she’d love to marry him and have the Pemberley Library for her own. When no one in the room responded to her conversation starter and set her book down. Her eyes rounded the room and she spoke about her brother’s comment about a ball, “By the bye, Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance at Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure.”**

Her brother’s blue eyes shot to her and he smiled, “If you mean Darcy, he may go to bed, if he chooses, before it begins—but as for the ball, it is quite a settled thing; and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough, I shall send round my cards.”**

The horrible woman continued with her complaints, “I should like balls infinitely better if they were carried on in a different manner; but there is something insufferably tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It would surely be much more rational if conversation instead of dancing were made the order of the day.”**

Her brother chuckled, “Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say, but it would not be near so much like a ball.”**

Draco continued to listen to the conversation as he pretended to read the book. He knew when the Weasley Woman had quieted that she was busy walking around the room. He continued to play his part when he heard the far too giddy voice of the read head request, “Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude.”**

He didn’t have to look up to notice the scent of Hermione, which somehow reminded him of a combination of cinnamon and ginger found in gingerbread. Her spicy sent reminded him of the Christmas cakes he had at the Manor when he was younger, and of innocent times that he could never recapture. He was captivated by the scent and looked up as the two women walked around the room. The book was soon closed and set on the side table, as he watched Hermione glide across the room arm and arm with the ginger, who smiled at him when she noticed his attention, “Would you join us?”**

He declined, “I can imagine but two motives for you choosing to walk up and down the room together, with either of which motives my joining you would interfere.”**

“Do you understand at all of what he speaks?”** she questioned Granger.

“Not at all,”** Hermione smiled and a flicker of knowing lit her brown eyes; “but depend upon it, he means to be severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it.”**

However, the brown eyed ginger desired an explanation, “Would you grace us with an explanation of your previous statement?”**

Draco looked up at the two of them and couldn’t keep his eyes from Hermione’s even though it was the youngest Weasley who inquired, “I have not the smallest objection to explaining them. You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other’s confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking; if the first, I would be completely in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire.”**

Miss Bingley gasped, “Oh! Shocking! I never heard anything so abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?”**

“Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination,”** Hermione smiled as Draco was entrapped in her chocolate and honey colored orbs.

The taller woman suggested, “We can all plague and punish one another. Tease him—laugh at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done.”**

Hermione’s eyes widened, “But upon my honour, I do not. I do assure you that my intimacy has not yet taught me that. Tease calmness of manner and presence of mind! No, no—feel he may defy us there. And as to laughter, we will not expose ourselves, if you please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. Mr. Darcy may hug himself.” She exclaimed, “Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at! That is an uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would be a great loss to me to have many such acquaintances. I dearly love to laugh.”**

Draco smiled a genuine smile as he continued to stare at the beauty of Hermione, “Miss Bingley has given me more credit than can be. The wisest and the best of men—nay, the wisest and best of their actions—may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke.”**

“Certainly,”** her arms snaked to her hips and her brown ringlets began to frizz, “there are such people, but I hope I am not one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is wise and good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without.”**

Draco knew what he needed to speak to maintain his cover and not give away the fact that he wasn’t just the character Darcy who’d taken the appearance of Draco Malfoy. However, his mind flashed back to the many times he’d seen the Golden Trio laughing together and having a good time at the Gryffindor Table. He remembered sitting at the Slytherin table and only laughing at the jokes he made at their expense and the ridicule he constantly grasped at to make himself feel superior. His desire to feel worth something caused him to belittle the good people around him, and his jealousy of the easy praise Potter received or the top marks Granger received, caused him to become more horrible. He quickly cleared his thoughts as he popped of the proper retort, “Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule.”**

Her eyes narrowed at him and a sneer overcame her usually pouty lips, “Such as vanity and pride.”**

Draco shook his head for a moment as more thoughts and memories clouded his mind. How much like Darcy was he? He was consumed with maintaining the exterior expected of the Malfoy Heir, power over others, and never showing weakness. The truth of the matter was that he never saw himself as anything more than inferior to Potter, inferior to Granger, and even inferior to the youngest Weasley boy because he was good enough to be the other two’s friend. He tried to knock them down by causing them pain with his words. He wanted them to hurt as much as he did every day. He once again wrangled his thoughts, which allowed him to respond, “Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride—where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation.”**

Hermione turned away from him, which according to the book was to hide a smile. However, the redhead requested her to speak more, “Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume and pray what is the result?”**

Hermione’s eyes fixed with his as she spoke, “I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it himself without disguise.”**

Draco knew that he was riddled with defects. He had the, now faded but always to be there, Dark Mark on his left forearm. He had the thin scars from the curse Potter hit him with their sixth year. His body was too weak to heal properly even with the essence of dittany that Snape suggested. He also had the thin white scars on his wrist where he tried to take his own life after he was forced to torture Rowle with the Cruciatus Curse. He couldn’t live with the amount of pain he caused the man and the amount of hatred he had to project to do it effectively. He felt himself slipping into the darkness and he swore to himself that he’d never go around a twist like Bellatrix. He’d much rather die before going completely nutters.

He spoke low trying to keep the haunting memories at bay, “No, I have made no such pretention. I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding—certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of other so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever.”** He couldn’t help but think Darcy’s words fit him, as well. He rarely trusted people but when he let someone in, if they did something to show themselves to be untrustworthy, then he would never trust that person again. He found truth in the statement when it came to Pansy Parkinson.

“That is failing indeed!”** Hermione’s eyes shone with fire as if she could see beyond his attempt to hide behind Darcy and directly into his dark soul, “Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I really cannot laugh at it. You are safe from me.”**

He tried to hide the shiver he felt, “There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil—a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.”**

Her eyes narrowed as if she was accusing Draco himself, “And your defect is to hate everyone.”**

His stomach clenched as he wished he could explain to her that those feelings of hatred, based upon blood purity, disappeared the moment he saw her bloodshed before him as she wreathed in pain on his family’s parlor floor at the hand of his crazy aunt. Her golden curls spread around her heart shaped face like a glowing halo, as she refused to give into the torture. It was that day, he realized that he was truly on the wrong side of the war and everything he’d been taught since he was a young boy was completely wrong. He did have to admit that he still lacked the capacity for love, as he never opened himself up for the prospect. He smiled, “And yours is willfully to misunderstand them.”**

Once again the redhead interrupted their moment, “Do let us have a little music.”** She turned toward Astoria, “Louisa, you will not mind me waking Mr. Hurst?”**

Draco willed time to pass quicker as soon as Hermione and her sister fled from house. He was left with the less desired conversation with the other members of the home. If Theo’s look alike was anything like his friend, then perhaps he wouldn’t have been so board at the prospect. There was so much not spoken of in the book and the world around him seemed to stay stagnant. As the story continued for Hermione, he was left to wait for the next time their paths crossed. He knew from the book that she was currently at Longbourn probably being visited by Mr. Collins who was vying for her affections. What if he was Ron and she decided that she much rather marry him than spend any more time with him? What if she completely changed the story line by refusing to even consider him as a possible love interest? He had to shake his thoughts as he read another book from the limited collection at Netherfield. He couldn’t fathom why he was so fixed on her; however in her absence, he realized just how much he missed her. Darcy may have enjoyed his time away from her because he was fighting the feelings he was developing for the second eldest Miss Bennet, but he was cut off from the only other person from his reality present. Sure, she didn’t know that he was the Draco from her reality, but something in her eyes told him she was alive and not two dimensional like the rest of the characters he was subject to when the plot moved away from him.

It was the following day that Bingley suggested that they visit Meryton, and the two of them chose to ride horseback. Draco had to admit that riding a horse was almost as freeing as riding a broom. When they noticed the five Bennet sisters accompanied by two officers and another gentleman, they decided to approach the party at Bingley’s bequest. Draco recognized one of the officers as Ronald Weasley and the other as Dean Thomas from his reality. The other gentleman was none other than his third year Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. He noticed that Ron’s features turned ghostly white under his glare, which led him to believe the new ginger was none other than Mr. Wickham. Dean had to be the other officer Denny, and Lupin had to have been Mr. Collins. When he thought about it, the facsimiles made sense, as the werewolf had married his disowned cousin who was playing the part of the future Mrs. Collins.

After a few moments, Ron tipped his hat. Draco refused to return the gesture and he and Bingley were soon leaving the group. He couldn’t help but feel defeated as he realized that Hermione would sure choose Ron over him, even if he were portraying the horrible character Wickham. His heart ached for some unknown reason, as his eyes pricked. What the hell was wrong with him? Why would he even entertain the idea of Hermione ever being attracted to him or even caring for him? Why would he even desire her to?****

A/N: Next chapter we see Hermione’s reaction to both the entry of Mr. Collins and discovering that Ron is Wickham.

*All dialogued marked is quoted from *ten, **paraphrased or ***quoted from chapter eleven of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice(1813). ****This part is a summary of what happens between chapters twelve and fifteen of Jane Austine's Pride and Prejudice(1813). The scenes are also derived from those chapters. The only things original to me are Draco's thoughts.
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The Joke Book Trap