Inspiration Chapter one
Chapter 1
Inspiration
Draco/Hermione
Rated R to NC-17
War and Hogwarts era set during Seventh year
I do not own any of these characters. I just play with them. Please don't sue me.
Power, money, all the best dragon boots and brooms money could buy. That was the life of Draco Malfoy. He could snap his fingers and the girls would line up to lick the dirt off his shoes, if he asked them. He knew he was fancied by most of the female population at Hogwarts-especially the Slytherins, and the occasional Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.
His only friend was Blaise Zabini and they had been close friends since they were in nappies. The other two fat-heads, who most considered his bodyguards, followed behind Draco and Blaise like lost puppies. When they entered the Great Hall, his fan-girls, as Blaise so affectionately called them, were fighting for the closest seats to him. He thought it was rather comical, actually. He enjoyed the attention. Just a single wink and a nod of his head, and those girls would be fighting like cats to get into his britches. It was rather entertaining.
As seventh years, they sat closer to the Professors’ table. Draco and the Slytherins sat down quietly with bored looks plastered on their faces and waited for the sorting to begin. After the sorting would be the announcement of this year’s Head Boy and Girl. He was positive it would be the Mudblood Granger and the Boy Who Lived To Fuck His Life Up. They practically pissed gold dust according to all the other Professors in the school, and even though Draco’s grades were just as good as Granger’s, he was sure the position would be handed over to Potter the “Savior of the Wizarding World.” He hadn’t even been in any trouble since fifth year. Matter of fact, he was made a prefect, and although others in his house assumed he didn’t take his responsibilities seriously, he did. Well, almost always. There was the rare occasion where you could find him scaring the Gryffindor first years or tripping a random student walking down the hallway-you know, just a little fun.
His mind trailed back to the scene in the Great Hall-September first, the beginning of term. His eyes immediately moved to the Gryffindor table where the Weasley girl and her red-headed older brother sat across from Granger and Potter, giving Draco a perfect view of what they were doing. Laughing, joking and carrying on as if there wasn’t a major war ahead of them. As if people among them, himself included, would be taking the Dark Mark in only four months, and they were laughing as if they didn't have a care in the world, while Draco was to honor a master so insane, Draco was sure he must stand in front of a mirror daily, for hours and hours practicing his maniacal laughter and his killing curses.
Draco might believe in the purity of blood, but he didn’t see how following a mad man who was power-hungry could solve the problem of cleansing the blood of the Wizarding World. “Drakie, are you okay, darling?” Draco cringed at the voice so close to his ear. It could only belong to the one witch he would consider murdering muggle-style. Her squeaky voice grated on his nerves so badly… And you can’t forget the mask of makeup. He wondered often if she removed her makeup by peeling it off of her face and hanging it on manikins until she was ready to use it again...
Ahhh! Well, looks like she won the cat fight.
On the outside, straight-faced as ever, he patted Pansy’s arm and replied, “Fine Pans, just wondering when everyone will stop acting as if Potter shits gold bricks, and actually choose the right man for the job for once.” The simpering slag smiled sweetly at Draco and turned back to her “so-called friends” and began chattering about the latest addition of Witch Weekly.
Goyle and Crabbe, too dense to catch onto his sarcasm, continued to complain about having to wait for food because they were starving. But no, Blaise didn’t miss a thing. Although he was what most girls called attractive, he was just as dedicated to being a fly on a wall and learning all the latest news as Granger was to her precious books. Blaise had both hands covering his mouth, his eyebrow arched. He knew damn well Pansy was the last person Draco wanted to be seated next to. It was like being seated next to a department store where too many people sprayed perfume at one time. Draco sent Blaise a warning glare letting him know that this was by no means over, and he would hear about it later.
A hush fell over the hall, and the lights dimmed leaving only the floating candles and the enchanted night sky lighting the room. Grumbles of “finally” and “food” were heard from Crabbe and Goyle. The Sorting Hat was placed upon its stool by Professor McGonagall. She pulled out her long list of names and waited for the Sorting Hat’s Song to begin. The first years stood nervously in a single-file line, looking small and scared.
Draco had to roll his eyes. Surely the song would be about house unity and the meaning of friendship. When everyone was finally quiet, the Sorting Hat began to sing:
For years I have asked you to unite.
But, I won’t ask for that on this night.
A storm is brewing and lines will be drawn,
A gifted witch among us will have to choose
What is right and what is wrong.
Love will either save us or burn us all.
And that is all there is,
There isn’t any more.
The murmurs began amongst the Great Hall, and for once, Draco’s confusion showed on his face. What an odd thing to say to start a term feast. When the murmurs died down, one by one the first years moved forward to be sorted into their houses. Two in Hufflepuff, six in Ravenclaw, five in Gryffindor and surprisingly enough, ten were sorted into Salazar’s house. That must be a record. “But most are half-bloods,” Pansy whined from his right. Draco rolled his eyes again-it was becoming a bad habit.
He looked again at the Gryffindor table where the laughter and cheerfulness had finally stopped. Potter and Granger were in deep discussion. He wondered randomly if Potter had gotten into her knickers yet. “And now the announcing of this year’s Head Students.” Draco tuned this part out, knowing damn well who they would be. He entertained himself by watching Crabbe and Goyle complain about starving. Then he heard “Hermione Granger.” The prim and proper Gryffindor walked up to the front to receive her shiny Head Pin, beaming and waving at all her admirers. And then, “This year’s Head Boy will be….” There was a pause. Probably for dramatic effect, Draco mused. The Professor looked back at Dumbledore with a confused expression on her face. She stuttered through the one name no one expected. “This year’s Head Boy will be…Dr-Draco…Malfoy.” Draco froze in place, he couldn’t believe it. This was even better than winning against Potter in Quidditch.
Blaise was standing on his bench, clapping and cheering his best mate on. His fan-girls were squealing and Pansy, the bitch, was cooing, “OH DRAKIE-POO.” Draco stood from his spot and walked slowly and calmly, using his entire cocky swagger, to the front of the hall to accept his pin and to shake the hand of the stone cold-faced Professor McGonagall.
He took his place next to Granger, who was so pissed he could see the steam pouring out of her ears. She whispered harshly, “Daddy pay for this too? Couldn’t just earn anything on your own, could you?” Draco smirked evilly and whispered back, “My father is dead, but of course you already knew tha.”