Serenity Abandoned, Passion Ignited | By : thinkofme Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 5178 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
I own nothing from
Harry Potter. All hail JK Rowling. We're not worthy!
Note: This is my first
HP fanfic.... so be easy on me. But I would still like some feedback, of
course, and flames are welcomed.... just.. not appreciated. Sort of like In-laws... haha :)
Summary: Set in the
group's 6th year. Hermione goes to her favorite spot -- a spot of tranquility
-- to recollect her thoughts. She finds a certain blonde there instead and her
serenity is quickly abandoned after a act of kindness that could have ended a
life. A life that's shattered and needs to be put back together by only a
friend. DM-HG, HG-HP, HP-GW.
.-.-.
She knew she was being
stupid, letting him get to her today, but he had been extremely mean to her,
seeming to hover over her shoulder and point out all of her mistakes, which
only made her make more.
After storming out of the
classroom, she went to vent inside of her Prefect quarters, bewitching her
pillow to take the shape of his head and she continued to beat it with her
fists until she flopped down on it, exhausted.
Most of you are probably
thinking that she was thinking of a certain blonde prat that deserved the same
fate as her pillow, but it was actually her Potions professor, Severus
Snape. He had always been malign to
Hermione, but today, he had been intentionally so, as described above.
Suddenly feeling
claustrophobic, she knew she had to get out of the castle. She grabbed up a coat of hers on the way out,
seeing as it was September and the autumn wind was already chilling. Punching her arm through the sleeves of it as
she descended the stairs, she knew exactly where she wanted to go; under her
favorite tree that was precisionally placed by the giant lake that she had
learned in previous years housed a giant squid, merpeople and various other
"mythical" creatures.
The wind was vicious today
and whipped at her neck and through her hair, making her bunch up her shoulders
and wrap her arms around her midsection, hugging her coat closer to her body,
trying to preserve the last of her body heat, her feet never losing their pace.
Coming to the rock underneath
the tree, she stopped, her jaw slack and hanging open. Malfoy was sitting in her favorite spot. And looking beautiful with the afternoon sun
hitting his incredibly blonde hair and his milky skin while he skipped the
rocks that she had gathered herself across the lake.
His neck turned and she
noticed by the familiar tilt of his head, he was smirking. She turned, about to walk away, not wanting
to hear more insults. She was full up
for the day.
"Well, well, well..
if it isn't Granger," she stopped at the sound of his voice, her jaw now
tight, clenching.
He stood up, coming over
and circling, dangerously close to getting a good kick in the crotch and a
broken nose. She smirked at the thought
of her smacking him in their third year.
That felt so long ago now, but it all actuality; it happened only a
measly three years ago.
"What are you
smirking at, mudblood?" he asked her, voice full of venom. She was brought out of her trip down memory
lane by this and she tilted her chin up to look at him more squarely in the eye
as he towered over her meek form. She
hadn't grown much from when she was a first year. On the other hand, Malfoy was
now eminent no matter who he stood next to. He was starting to look like he
would be Hagrid's height by next year.
"I'm smirking at your
sorry excuse for a face," she shot back and he stepped closer, glaring
with those icy orbs of his. They saw
right through her own warm brown eyes, shooting shivers up her spine. But hell would freeze over the day that she
told him that.
"How dare you speak
to me like that, you filthy little mudblood!" She took in a shuddering
breath. Even after all these years of
him saying it, it still hurt like a fresh cut to her heart.
"Oh, quit putting
yourself all high-and-mighty, Malfoy. Your wizarding skills aren't even above a
first year," she told him, looking him dead in the eye, her mouth
tightening into a line, a habit she picked up from the Transfiguration
professor, Minerva McGonagall.
His eyes shifted from
staring into hers to over her shoulder and his face took on horrified
expression.
"Oh, please... if you think that you're going to --" she
started when he cut her off.
"-- Hermione, watch
out!" he said as he spun them around and she was only able to see one
thing before she was knocked out: fearful blue eyes.
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