Round 2 Challenge #5: Voting
Well, here we are in week 5. We hope the extra week was useful!!
A couple of things to remember when deciding which drabbles to vote for (most and least favorite):
Guidelines:
Which drabble best incorporates the prompt?
2. Is the drabble clever, different, fresh? Does it evoke an emotional response (good or bad)?
3. Does the drabble contain grammar, canon or spelling errors?
The “feedback” option.
As a voter, you have the option of leaving a brief statement about why you voted the way you did, for both most and least favorite. Your feedback will then be given to the drabble writer (if they want the feedback) ANONYMOUSLY.
Example: Most - #40: the ending was brilliant - OR - Least - #57: the ending fell flat
Here we go for week 5!
Choose your favorite and least favorite drabbles. Favorites will receive +1 point per vote, and least favorites -1 point per vote. Once again (despite the rules), we’ll only be eliminating one author this week.
Participants using a skip:
kate0404
Voting ends at 11:59pm, Friday, October 3, 2008.
The Great Cliché Challenge!
1
Title: With You.
Author: emm718
Rating: G
Warnings: A bit taken from that 70’s show. Paraphrased.
Word Count: 499
“We’re stuck in here.”
“Yes.”
“Together.”
Hermione rolled her eyes pointlessly, as it was too dark for her companion to notice and tried to light her wand again. Inexplicably, it wouldn’t glow. She grimaced. “We just have to find the door, no need to panic, Malfoy.”
“I’m not panicking,” he exclaimed, but the screech in his voice contradicted him. “And there isn’t a door.”
She sighed because he made a good point, when she followed Crookshanks into this alcove, she never did pass through any barrier whatsoever. Not even a magical one, as far as she could tell. “Well if there’s a way in, there’s a way out.” She reached out her hand, blindly searching for some sort of purchase to give her an indication of her surroundings, but all she could feel was nothingness. However, she wasn’t deterred; she continued to reach as her feet took tentative shuffles forward. Her diligence paid off when her fingers came into contact with a solid roughness. “A’ha!”
“What is that?” Draco’s voice held an edge.
“I found a wall.”
“Well done, but we weren’t looking for a wall. We want a way out.” Even in the darkness, she could feel his sneer.
“Yes, well if we follow the wall the way we came, eventually we will get out.” She paused ephemerally awaiting his response, and when it didn’t come she ordered him to follow her voice.
His unsure steps echoed until they neared her. Suddenly she stiffened. “Malfoy! You’re touching my arse!”
“Accident, Granger! ”
She held her breath anticipating his movement. “Hey! Your hand is still there!”
“It is still an accident!”
She wrinkled her nose as she grabbed his hand and laced her fingers with his, instantly surprised he didn’t object to the touching.
“What if there is a troll in here?” His whisper was harsh.
“There isn’t.”
“Or a manticore waiting to rip our heads off and feast on our dead bodies?”
“Gods, must you be so vulgar?” She didn’t understand why boys always assumed the goriest scenarios when afraid.
“We are going to die.”
She spun on him then and grabbed his face. “Draco Malfoy, be serious! We aren’t going to die!”
“Yes, we are and nobody will ever know.” He was nearly hysterical; she could hear his heart pounding against his chest and the anxiety straining his voice. So she did the only thing she could think of to soothe his stress, she kissed him. She put all she had into distracting him, but when his arms flew around her waist and he leaned into her, it threw her off balance and she stumbled backwards, taking him with her.
Then, surprisingly, they were in the middle of the hall, daylight pouring through the windows and most of Hogwarts staring at them as they slowly broke from the kiss.
She shoved him away and brushed off her robes. “Told you we’d get out.” With her face burning red, she walked away with what was left of her dignity.
2
Title: The Spark
Author: delayed_poet
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word Count: 499
-September-
"Malfoy," Hermione said, standing stiffly on one side of the room.
"Granger," Malfoy bit out. She mentally applauded his ability to say her name without adding something derisive to it.
"We'll work together when we have to, and during the rest of the time, we'll ignore each other. Agreed?" She rather thought it was a generous offer. If he could pretend she didn't exist outside of their Head duties, she could, too.
"Agreed," Malfoy finally answered with a slight nod.
-Halloween-
Hermione sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the couch. The fire was alive in the hearth, flickering golden flames across the room. She was so engrossed in her letter that she didn't hear the door open.
"Don’t you ever stop studying, Granger? It's Halloween, for Merlin's sake!"
Hermione turned her tears-streaked face toward Malfoy. He looked immediately uncomfortable, but she couldn't find it in herself to care that he'd broken their agreement and bothered her outside of their Head duties.
-December-
Everyone was leaving for the holiday. Hermione stood at the small window in the Head's Common Room, looking down at the thestral-pulled carriages that were waiting to transport the children to Hogsmeade Station.
She wanted to go home, but she didn't have a home to go to. Not since Halloween. She sighed, her breath fogging the window, and she watched as the fog faded back again.
"Staying behind?" a voice asked softly behind her. She didn't have to turn to see who it was. Ever since Halloween, Malfoy had seemed to make more of an effort to leave her be; and not just her, but her friends, as well.
"I don't have anywhere to go," she answered, a trace of pain in her voice.
"Me either."
-Christmas-
Malfoy held the neatly wrapped present out to her. "Merry Christmas."
Hermione hesitantly took the gift. "Thank you," she said softly as she pulled the little silver ribbon from it. When she opened it, she found a stunning leather journal inside, engraved with her name. She looked up at Draco with moist eyes.
"Thank you," she said again, sincerely.
-March-
Hermione laughed as Draco told her a tale from his youth. He'd slowly worked his way into her life, and now she couldn't seem to shake him. She found that she didn't mind, though.
"Good night, Draco," she said as she stood up and stretched.
Draco stood, as well. He moved closer to her, his hand lifting to cup her cheek. Her breath caught in her throat as his lips moved closer to hers. He kissed her once, softly, then pulled away.
"Good night, Hermione."
-June-
The war was over.
Draco and Hermione stood hand-in-hand, looking over the grounds of Hogwarts. There was so much damage, so many dead and injured. Yet, somehow, they'd both survived.
Draco had shown his allegiance to Hermione during the battle, fighting alongside her, watching her back. Now, they walked away from it all, side-by-side.
"I love you, Draco."
"I love you, too."
3
Title: Working with Draco Malfoy
Author: dynonugget
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Implied sexual situation, crack!fic
Word Count: 493
Hermione Granger was hired to head the Department of Care of Magical Creatures only three days after graduating from Hogwarts. She was, after all, the brightest witch of the age and cutest member of the infamous Golden Trio. The only drawback was working with Draco Malfoy.
“Granger,” the youngest Malfoy sneered as he strode into her office like he owned it, “Where is that report? You were supposed to have it finished yesterday.”
“Malfoy, may I remind you that just because you think you should be the next Minister of Magic, it does not give you the right to boss me around.”
“Just you wait,” he simpered while admiring himself in the mirror. “Shacklebolt will go back to being an Auror and then the Ministry will be MINE!”
Hermione turned away; it would not do to allow him to see her laugh openly at him, but she couldn't help it.
“Are you laughing at me?” he said, his tone suddenly serious.
“I'm sorry,” she answered. “You just sound so intense! You really need to relax.”
“Hey! I have issues! My whole family is a bunch of Dark Wizards! I was quite spoiled as a child, and now I have to learn how to grow up and be a man! I've got some serious angst going on!”
“Oh, Draco,” she said as she rose from her desk. “There are so many other things to worry about. For example, you haven't asked me what color knickers I'm wearing today.”
“...”
“Well?” she huffed, hands on her hips.
“What happened to Weasley?”
“He hasn't cheated on me yet, but he will. Everyone says so.”
“So you're, um, single?”
Giggling, “Yeah.”
Shrugs, “Alright. What color are your knickers?”
“We could bother getting to know each other, and I could help you with all your angst, but it seems like such a waste when this great big desk is just waiting for us,” she said blatantly as she slipped off her robes.
Draco, hesitating only a second, allowed his eyes to roam over her. Ooh, yes, she'd been hiding quite a bit beneath those robes all these years. He licked his lips and moved closer.
“I can't wait to find out if the rumors were true,” she told him as he hiked her short black skirt up around her waist.
“The Slytherin Sex God rumors?” he asked as he pulled down his impeccably tailored slacks.
“Mm hmm,” she muttered and swiped the pile of papers out of their way.
*grunt grunt groan groan*
“Yeah, so the knickers thing was true,” he grinned a few minutes later. “I knew they'd be white.”
Blushing, Hermione bantered back, “Seems the rumors about you were not true, Draco.”
“...”
“You're not a Slytherin Sex God, but a Hogwarts Sex God! Wanna get married and have some Dramione babies?”
“Yeah, alright. We could have done worse.”
With a snort, Hermione zipped up her robes and said, “Yeah, you could have been Head Boy.”
4
Title: The Head Students' Bathroom
Author: greenschist
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Word Count: 494
“How dare you come in here, Draco Malfoy!” The Egyptian cotton washcloth that had seemed almost too luxurious for bathing was proving woefully inadequate as a cover-up. “Get out!”
Draco hooked his thumb behind the glittering “HB” badge on his chest and thrust it in her direction. “Head Boy, remember, Granger? That means--,” he resumed picking through the clothes she had left folded on the vanity, “--it's my bathroom, too. Don't you know anything about sharing?”
From the shower, she stared at his back in disbelief. “Sharing a bath doesn't mean sharing it at the same time! Anyway,” she sputtered, “this isn't about sharing. It's about basic things like respect and pri--” Hermione stopped, realizing he was still picking through her laundry. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for your knickers,” he replied, not bothering to turn around.
“What? ”
“Found them!” Like a knight with the Holy Grail, Draco held her knickers up over his head. “I knew they'd be white cotton.”
“Put them down!”
“Think of it as a good deed, Granger.” He lowered his arms and turned to her. “Half the student body can barely concentrate for all the time spent speculating about your knickers. Now I can put their minds at ease, let them get back to work.” He stuffed them into his pocket. “I might even get an award for Special Services to the School for this.”
Schoolwide speculation? About her underwear? Hermione thought she might faint from embarrassment. “I don't believe you,” she said weakly.
“Believe it.” His eyes lingered on the curves of her breasts, barely hidden by the washcloth.
At that moment, Hermione would have given up that precious cloth for her wand and the opportunity to hex his eyes out of his head. “Would you stop looking at me?”
He smirked. “Why? It's not like you have anything I haven't seen before.” The smirk broadened into a grin. “Many times before, actually.”
“Oh, right,” she snorted. “I forgot I was talking to the Slytherin Sex God. Well, I don't believe that, either, Malfoy. If you did half the things people say about you, your--” she scrambled unsuccessfully for a word that would make her sound more mature than him, “--your thing would have fallen off by now.”
Draco laughed out loud. “My thing?” Hermione was sure she was blushing harder than she ever had in her life. “That's just...precious, Granger.” He smiled like the world's best present had fallen in his lap. “You're a virgin.”
She had never felt anything quite like the mixture of embarrassment and rage that boiled her blood then. “That is none of your business! And for the last time, get out!”
“Okay, okay,” he drawled, finally turning toward the door. “Don't be embarrassed about your virginity, Granger. After all,” he paused and winked at her over his shoulder, “we have all year to take care of that.”
The door closed mere seconds before the washcloth hit it with a splat.
5
Title: Sex Kitten
Author: ravenswing34
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 489
Warnings: Cliches :D
A cloud of steam enveloped Draco as he headed into the Head’s bathroom. “Granger? Hurry up! You are over your allotted time! I know that taming that bush you call hair needs time but for Merlin’s sake…” Draco’s voice trailed off as he feasted his eyes on the vision before him. Tight butt, pert breasts, soft skin, amber hair in impossibly long waves, pink lips, luscious thighs - his brain could not keep up with visual bounty before him.
Hermione whipped her mane around and behind her as she leaned against the counter. Running a soft hand through her luxurious curls and waves, she smirked at the gaping Head Boy. Hermione knew she looked good. The year on the run and the ensuing battle had served to melt off the remaining baby fat of her youth. The extra year had also allowed her catch up to the other girls. Her mother had always said she was a late bloomer. And bloom she did. This was to be her year. She was hot and not just hot but Capital H-O-T hot!
Hermione turned around, making sure all assets were covered by her new fuchsia bra and panty set and admired herself in the mirror. Placing the last touch of bubblegum pink lip gloss to her luscious lips, she met Draco’s eyes in the mirror. “Like what you see, Malfoy?”
“Your hair! Your ti… er… your body!” Draco managed to stammer incoherently.
Hermione smacked her lips to make sure her new favorite shade was properly applied and turned around to Draco. She sauntered over to him and ran a small finger down his pajamas front.
“The extra length managed to pull out that pesky tight curl into these soft waves. The year away was good to me, wouldn’t you say? All that running and starving and sleeping in the cold managed to be the best diet a girl could ever have!” Hermione coquettishly said. Looping her arms around his neck, she pressed every curve she had tight against him. “Would you like a sample?”
Draco watched her bubblegum pink lips close in on him…
And woke up screaming.
“Draco, its okay! Its just a nightmare!”
Draco quickly ran a hand down over his wife. Bushy hair, decent breasts, slight tummy, flared hips and ample butt. He gathered his dear lovely wife in his arms and kissed her soundly.
“Another sex kitten dream?” Draco numbly nodded. “The baby and I understand, honey. The healer explained that these types of dreams are normal as you deal with my changing body,” Hermione serenely explained.
“I love you as you are - bushy hair and all!” Draco placed a light kiss on Hermione’s lips and traveled down to place a kiss on her slightly burgeoning stomach as well. As he welcomed the embrace of sleep, he mumbled, “I love both of you.”
Hermione’s only response was a soft smile as she too fell back asleep.
6
Title: How I Fell In Love With My Wife
Author: ilkee
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Marriage Law cliché
Word Count: 468
This was how he liked her best. Asleep.
When her dark, frank eyes were not staring at him, stretching his reluctant emotions like a rubber band, he could finally drop the scowl that had been etched on his face since the day he was told he would have to marry Hermione Granger.
As she lay in quiet surrender he could look openly at her. He could allow his eyes to take in the curve of her shoulder, to roam the resting planes of her cheeks, and the scattering of freckles on her nose. And to stare for long stretches of time at her mouth.
He hadn’t slept properly in months.
He lay next to her, in the bed she insisted on sharing, and listened to her breathing, eyes focused on her softly parted lips.
He had never really touched her. Not even to hold her hand on the day they were married. It felt like an insurmountable obstacle. The Great Wall of China.
Once, when she was sleeping, like she was now, he poked a curl lying defenselessly on his pillow.
But now, his fingers craved something far worse.
He wanted to touch her mouth.
For weeks he had been consumed with the idea. For some reason, the know-it-all’s mouth had become an obsession. With sideways glances he would catalog the many states of her mouth throughout the day. Her different smiles, a familiar smirk, pursed when she was reading, and this one, his favorite, her mouth at rest. This was the one that he sacrificed sleep for. The one he was desperate to touch.
He could do it. He could reach across and touch her mouth and be free of this madness and she would never know. He had been telling himself this for days. She would never know.
And just like he had done every night for more than a week, he slowly reached across the small space, eyes glancing up to hers to make sure she stayed locked in slumber.
But he stopped a millimeter away, the soft puffs of her hot, moist breath fanning over his fingertips and his heart racing. He watched his fingers hover over her mouth. She would never know.
He looked up at her then to see that it was safe, only to find dark, serious, eyes pinning him. His breath stuck in his throat. He was caught. Frozen in place.
Her gaze dropped to his fingertips and then back to his eyes and his heart hammered in his chest. And then her lips moved, and his eyes were riveted there, as her small pink mouth closed around his fingertip in a soft kiss.
“Wife,” he said in a surprised, strangled whisper. She smiled and wrapped her hand around his and brought it to her chest, and closed her eyes.
7
Title: Oh How I Love Thee…Let Me Count the Clichés
Author: inadaze22
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: nudity and light language
Word Count: 499
Trolls, Rita Skeeter, battles, and McLaggen’s hands were all tests that life had thrown her way; tests she had passed with flying colours. Well, tonight Hermione was being tested again. The Head Girl started up the stairs of the Astronomy Tower and instantly knew that she was going to fail this one.
She wasn’t going to survive the year without strangling Draco Malfoy.
Were they even thinking when they named him Head Boy? Apparently not! How could she work with the most egotistical, hedonistic, and indolent wizard in Hogwarts? So, he wasn’t calling her a Mudblood, but he was still an arse. And attractive-she swatted that thought and straightened her spine.
Hermione had expected to find Malfoy with a witch, but the sight of the topless fifth year had made her blush and stammer, “One hundred p-points from Ravenclaw, and a-a week of detention!”
The mortified witch wordlessly fled the scene with her hands covering her chest, leaving them alone. The Head Girl wasted no time. “You wanker!” she exploded. “I waited for you in the common room for an hour! It’s our patrol night, but here you are with some-!”
Malfoy folded his arms. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy?”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Yes, you are. I don’t blame you, though. I’m bloody sexy.”
Hermione snorted. “Your arrogance astounds me, Malfoy.”
“And so does your prudishness.”
It was only then that she realized the Head Boy had backed her into a corner. His scent and proximity unhinged her a bit, causing her voice to waver. “Stop c-changing the subject! This is the t-third time this week-”
He smirked. “Did you stutter, Granger?”
“No, now back away from me before I punch you.”
“You’re tense. You need to relax.” Malfoy hissed the final word.
Hermione held her ground. “I’m warning you, I’ll-”
“You’re not going to hit me. I’m Draco Malfoy: Slytherin Sex-God, virgin-deflowerer, and also, Head Boy.”
“We’ll see about that last one. I’m reporting you and that hussy-”
His face fell. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, try me.” She haughtily challenged.
Malfoy sneered.
“Not the Malfoy sneer! I’m shaking in my knickers!” Hermione exclaimed sarcastically.
“White knickers, I’m sure….” Malfoy started to go on, but caught sight of her tightening fist. “Granger, if you hit me, I’ll-”
“What? Run to daddy?”
He frowned. “Precisely.”
She scoffed. “You’re pathetic.”
“Tsk, tsk, you’re in denial, Granger.” He whispered into her ear, “You know you think I’m sexy.”
Ignoring the tingling in her stomach, the flustered witch shoved him away. He stumbled, but didn’t fall. “You’re completely deluded!” Hermione squared her shoulders and composed herself long enough to tell him about tomorrow’s Prefects’ meeting. “And you had better show up, or I’ll tell McGonagall everything.”
Draco Malfoy waited until she stormed off before he grinned, saying, “Oh, I’ll be there.”
Phase One of his ingenious plan had been a success. It was time for Phase Two….
Yes, Granger would be his before Christmas.
8
Title: For the Good of the Country
Author: imogen_penn
Rating: PG
Warnings: none...except for a high content of ridonculousness
Word Count: 498
Draco’s leather trousers let out a sort of sweaty grunting sound as he crossed his legs, fiercely staring down his father across his desk, eyes squinting in a manner that would have been intimidating if it did not make him look quite so much like a rodent.
“I don’t care if peace in the Wizarding world depends on my marrying that Mudblood, I won’t do it!” he bellowed, “And besides father, when did you join the side of order?”
“Oh it just sort of happened somewhere along the way,” Lucius airily waved a hand, dismissing the question, “Never mind that. You ARE going to marry the Mudblood, and you ARE going to take off those ridiculous leather trousers!”
“I refuse on both counts” Draco said firmly.
Just then, the door to the study opened and Guiton, the ghost butler, led in Hermione Granger.
Since the last time Draco had seen her, she had miraculously become very attractive. Hair straightened, skin tanned, a little less in some areas, a little more in others, and Draco was already reconsidering his opinion on the whole marriage thing…and the leather trousers. Truth be told, they were awfully constricting.
Like the gentleman his (only newly not evil) father (who somehow found time between the slaughtering of innocents) had raised him to be, he stood as she entered, his trousers creaking disconcertingly.
“Granger,” he said coolly,
“Malfoy,” she replied curtly.
“Granger,” he replied, indicating his approval of her new appearance,
“Malfoy,” she replied, suggesting perhaps that she appreciated the leather trousers
“Granger,” he said, taking a step towards her with intention (somehow, he knew not of what)
“Mal…”
“Oh for Merlin’s sake!” Lucius cried out, cutting Hermione off before she could evoke any more expository emotion through use of a last name. “We are here to discuss an arrangement that will benefit the entire Wizarding World, not to rip the trousers off each other. Although,” Lucius mused after a small pause, “If you are able to get my son out of those embarrassingly binding things Miss Granger, please feel free.”
...awkward pause...
“Now,” Lucius said in a business-like tone, “let’s draw up the terms of this arrangement, shall we?”
“Well obviously, there will have to be children, or no one will buy it.” Draco piped in eagerly.
“I really don’t think that’s…” Lucius began.
“Well, if it’s for the good of the country,” Hermione agreed with a not very convincing sigh, “and we should probably have the wedding as soon as possible.”
“I’m sure we can delay for…” Lucius tried to pipe in.
“I suppose if I’m being forced.” Draco agreed, “and we really ought to fall properly in love after a few months of sarcastic snarking.”
“Oh come on now!” Lucius rolled his eyes.
“For the good of the country,” Hermione said, signing her name to the contract with a long suffering sigh.
“For the good of the country,” Draco added, adding his own name.
And then they totally made out.
The End.
9
Title: The Granger Problem
Author: snowe
Rating: G
Warnings: watch out for Draco's self-delusions! :)
Word Count: 499
He couldn't remember, exactly, when the idea had first taken hold.
He'd certainly been shocked to learn that Granger, widely if grudgingly recognized as the cleverest of the first-years, was a Muggleborn, but when one hadn't any friends, and spend all that time in the library...well, he could do as well or better, if he'd tried. Still, though, there were plenty of Ravenclaw swots from proper backgrounds...it was odd. Of course, he had heard those stories of Muggles stealing wizarding children and leaving their own disgusting brats in exchange; maybe...He'd intended to ask his father about it, but Lucius had so furious over end-of-year exam results that he hadn't dared.
The idea danced around the outskirts of his brain once more when Slughorn, that fat old toady, had asked about her connections to Dagworth-Granger, founder of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. He and Nott had snickered over the idea of Miss Mudblood having such illustrious ancestry, but...well, that would explain the Granger problem quite nicely, wouldn't it? All speculation was put aside for the necessity of winning the Felix Felicis--just the thing he needed for his task. When Potter (Potter! Potter! He wouldn't even have had a place in the class if they'd still had a proper teacher!) had won, his fury and disappointment drove the notion out of his head completely.
When the Muggle-born Registration Commission had begun its investigations the following year, he'd wondered if it would turn out to be true; surely Granger would research the matter thoroughly. He couldn't imagine a school-year without her annoying presence, and surely she'd leave no stone unturned in order to come back to school. When he realized on September first that she really wasn't coming, he gave way to a mad impulse and sent her an anonymous owl with his theory. It came back later that night, unopened and, judging from the owl's dejected hoots, undeliverable. He burned the letter immediately, and wondered at his own stupidity in sticking his neck out for Granger. If anyone had found out he'd been trying to help a Mudblood...
When his mandated "service to the community" job put him across the hall from Granger's office in the Ministry, the notion changed from an idle fancy to an obsession. He scoured the Daily Prophet archives, clandestinely explored the Ministry personnel files, gradually piecing together a biography of Hector Dagworth-Granger.
It could be true--Hector was rather infamous for his dalliances with Muggle women...and the timing was right. He casually asked her about her family one day, steering the conversation towards her father's family. Her father had been raised by his mother and step-father...his mother had changed her name, but not her son's.
Granted, she'd be a half-blood, if one applied the term generously. Still, the granddaughter of Dagworth-Granger, even by way of an illegitimate squib, would rank above a Mud--a Muggleborn.
It had to be true. He just couldn't fancy a Muggleborn this way...could he?
10
Title: Subtlety Is Relative
Author: bookishwench
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Word Count: 499
Snape’s Defense Against the Dark Arts exams were usually boring, but Goyle had a brilliant plan. Unfortunately, he was Goyle. His chosen jinx made not only Potter’s quill catch fire, but everyone else’s too, resulting in Lavender leaping into Weasley’s lap in terror.
“Granger,” Snape said, jaw twitching, “quickly retrieve more quills from the second floor supply closet or it’s fifty points from Gryffindor.”
She took off in a blur. Minutes passed, and the combination of restless students and an irate Snape spelled potential homicide.
“Draco,” Snape finally hissed, “get the quills. NOW!”
Despite himself, Draco fled the room. The supply closet door was shut when he arrived. He pulled the knob, but it was locked.
“Granger?” he yelled at the keyhole.
He heard a familiar voice swear quietly. Interesting…
“Leave!”
“No,” he drawled lazily.
“I’ll kill those two,” Hermione mumbled.
Forget interesting; Draco was downright intrigued.
“Back away from the door,” Draco said, chuckling. “One, two… Alohomora!”
The door promptly burst open.
“The quills are right there,” her voice said from the shadows. “Take them and go.”
“Not so fast,” he said, shutting the door. “The only way out is past me, and I’m not moving. Show yourself.”
Quiet sobbing came from the corner. For six years he’d been making her life hell, and she’d never cried in front of him. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t like it.
“Hermione,” he said, surprised he’d used her name, “what’s wrong?”
“Fine!” she yelled, stepping into view. “Look!”
She was almost unrecognizable. Her shoes had become high-heeled stiletto boots with marabou feathers at the cuffs. Above them black fishnet stockings disappeared under an extremely short robe. Its neckline plunged dangerously over a chest that could double as a flotation device. Heavy make-up plastered her face, including blindingly red lipstick, a knut-sized beauty mark, and false lashes so enormous he wondered if her eyelids were strong enough to blink. Stick straight hair as platinum blonde as his completed the effect.
He should have been laughing hysterically while taking pictures to send as Christmas cards. Instead, he felt ill.
“Who did this?” he asked.
She scuffed guiltily at the floor, and he noticed a sweets wrapper lying there.
“Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes Beautifying Bon-Bons?” he read. “You ate this rubbish?”
“They swore it was subtle,” she said miserably.
Fred and George knowingly making a girl who was like their kid sister resemble a tarty circus freak brought the sick feeling back.
“Why would…,” he began, then remembered Lavender leaping into Ron’s lap. “Oh. The Weasel.”
She blushed.
“But this stuff must wear off,” he said.
“In three hours!” Hermione wailed.
“I’ll bring the quills,” he sighed in resignation. “Stay here until you’re normal.”
“Thanks,” she whispered.
He glared at her bizarre, overly sexual appearance, grabbed the quills, and turned the doorknob.
“Weasley’s a fool for not seeing what’s in front of him, and you’re another for thinking you needed those sweets in the first place,” he said, then left, closing the door.
11
Title: Ignited Passions
Author: marlaichen
Rating: PG
Warnings: Implausibility
Word Count: 496
Draco couldn’t remember ever hearing of the Head Boy and Head Girl sharing a dormitory. After a three hour train ride, however, he wasn’t much in the mood to question and instead dropped his bags without a thought at the entrance of his new common room.
Yep, this was going to be a good year. Excepting, of course that one little hiccup. That one little hiccup in the form of a note inclosed with his Head Boy letter, that he dared not show to Lucius. That one little note that informed Draco who this year’s Head Girl was going to be.
With a sigh, Draco settled into the deep leather couch in the center of the common room. It was hard for him to see why he had been chosen as Head Boy, but what was even more difficult to understand was why someone had thought it a good idea to make Hermione Granger this year's Head Girl. Anyone who knew of Hogwarts knew of the infamous rivalry the two shared, as well as their loathing for one another. So who on God's green earth could have possibly thought that the school’s most turbulent year, at the center of a war, would best be governed by one of the most turbulent relationships in Hogwart’s history?
Draco closed his eyes as these and other thoughts swirling around in his head. Maybe I'll get lucky, Draco thought, as the couch slowly enveloped him. Maybe she's died over the summer. The idea did little to comfort him.
At the moment, a loud bang made Draco jump straight up in his seat. He whirled around to see the very girl he had just been pondering, though she differed from his vision of her in two main respects. Firstly, she was fuming. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco could see the cause of the bang as well as her anger. Smashed against the wall was his luggage, which had formerly been blocking the common room door before being blasted by Hermione's wand.
Surprisingly, though, this wasn't what was chiefly engaging Draco's interests. Because secondly, she was gorgeous.
There was something about Hermione that took Draco's breath away. Was it the charred splinters of his suitcase, stuck into the wall behind her, glowed so delicately against her skin? Or the way her eyes flamed so intensely in his direction? Or was it the way her school uniform clung to her form, sticky with sweat from the effort of trying to open the door?
No matter the reason, Hermione never even had the chance to open her mouth before Draco was across the room in three strides and her lips were captured in his own. They stood for a moment, neither daring to breath, as a thin smoke gently curled around them. Finally Draco pulled away.
Hermione blinked.
"Ferret."
She turned and stormed off to her room.
Yep. This was going to be a good year.
ooo
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The Great Cliché Challenge!
1
Title: With You.
Author: emm718
Rating: G
Warnings: A bit taken from that 70’s show. Paraphrased.
Word Count: 499
“We’re stuck in here.”
“Yes.”
“Together.”
Hermione rolled her eyes pointlessly, as it was too dark for her companion to notice and tried to light her wand again. Inexplicably, it wouldn’t glow. She grimaced. “We just have to find the door, no need to panic, Malfoy.”
“I’m not panicking,” he exclaimed, but the screech in his voice contradicted him. “And there isn’t a door.”
She sighed because he made a good point, when she followed Crookshanks into this alcove, she never did pass through any barrier whatsoever. Not even a magical one, as far as she could tell. “Well if there’s a way in, there’s a way out.” She reached out her hand, blindly searching for some sort of purchase to give her an indication of her surroundings, but all she could feel was nothingness. However, she wasn’t deterred; she continued to reach as her feet took tentative shuffles forward. Her diligence paid off when her fingers came into contact with a solid roughness. “A’ha!”
“What is that?” Draco’s voice held an edge.
“I found a wall.”
“Well done, but we weren’t looking for a wall. We want a way out.” Even in the darkness, she could feel his sneer.
“Yes, well if we follow the wall the way we came, eventually we will get out.” She paused ephemerally awaiting his response, and when it didn’t come she ordered him to follow her voice.
His unsure steps echoed until they neared her. Suddenly she stiffened. “Malfoy! You’re touching my arse!”
“Accident, Granger! ”
She held her breath anticipating his movement. “Hey! Your hand is still there!”
“It is still an accident!”
She wrinkled her nose as she grabbed his hand and laced her fingers with his, instantly surprised he didn’t object to the touching.
“What if there is a troll in here?” His whisper was harsh.
“There isn’t.”
“Or a manticore waiting to rip our heads off and feast on our dead bodies?”
“Gods, must you be so vulgar?” She didn’t understand why boys always assumed the goriest scenarios when afraid.
“We are going to die.”
She spun on him then and grabbed his face. “Draco Malfoy, be serious! We aren’t going to die!”
“Yes, we are and nobody will ever know.” He was nearly hysterical; she could hear his heart pounding against his chest and the anxiety straining his voice. So she did the only thing she could think of to soothe his stress, she kissed him. She put all she had into distracting him, but when his arms flew around her waist and he leaned into her, it threw her off balance and she stumbled backwards, taking him with her.
Then, surprisingly, they were in the middle of the hall, daylight pouring through the windows and most of Hogwarts staring at them as they slowly broke from the kiss.
She shoved him away and brushed off her robes. “Told you we’d get out.” With her face burning red, she walked away with what was left of her dignity.
2
Title: The Spark
Author: delayed_poet
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word Count: 499
-September-
"Malfoy," Hermione said, standing stiffly on one side of the room.
"Granger," Malfoy bit out. She mentally applauded his ability to say her name without adding something derisive to it.
"We'll work together when we have to, and during the rest of the time, we'll ignore each other. Agreed?" She rather thought it was a generous offer. If he could pretend she didn't exist outside of their Head duties, she could, too.
"Agreed," Malfoy finally answered with a slight nod.
-Halloween-
Hermione sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the couch. The fire was alive in the hearth, flickering golden flames across the room. She was so engrossed in her letter that she didn't hear the door open.
"Don’t you ever stop studying, Granger? It's Halloween, for Merlin's sake!"
Hermione turned her tears-streaked face toward Malfoy. He looked immediately uncomfortable, but she couldn't find it in herself to care that he'd broken their agreement and bothered her outside of their Head duties.
-December-
Everyone was leaving for the holiday. Hermione stood at the small window in the Head's Common Room, looking down at the thestral-pulled carriages that were waiting to transport the children to Hogsmeade Station.
She wanted to go home, but she didn't have a home to go to. Not since Halloween. She sighed, her breath fogging the window, and she watched as the fog faded back again.
"Staying behind?" a voice asked softly behind her. She didn't have to turn to see who it was. Ever since Halloween, Malfoy had seemed to make more of an effort to leave her be; and not just her, but her friends, as well.
"I don't have anywhere to go," she answered, a trace of pain in her voice.
"Me either."
-Christmas-
Malfoy held the neatly wrapped present out to her. "Merry Christmas."
Hermione hesitantly took the gift. "Thank you," she said softly as she pulled the little silver ribbon from it. When she opened it, she found a stunning leather journal inside, engraved with her name. She looked up at Draco with moist eyes.
"Thank you," she said again, sincerely.
-March-
Hermione laughed as Draco told her a tale from his youth. He'd slowly worked his way into her life, and now she couldn't seem to shake him. She found that she didn't mind, though.
"Good night, Draco," she said as she stood up and stretched.
Draco stood, as well. He moved closer to her, his hand lifting to cup her cheek. Her breath caught in her throat as his lips moved closer to hers. He kissed her once, softly, then pulled away.
"Good night, Hermione."
-June-
The war was over.
Draco and Hermione stood hand-in-hand, looking over the grounds of Hogwarts. There was so much damage, so many dead and injured. Yet, somehow, they'd both survived.
Draco had shown his allegiance to Hermione during the battle, fighting alongside her, watching her back. Now, they walked away from it all, side-by-side.
"I love you, Draco."
"I love you, too."
3
Title: Working with Draco Malfoy
Author: dynonugget
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Implied sexual situation, crack!fic
Word Count: 493
Hermione Granger was hired to head the Department of Care of Magical Creatures only three days after graduating from Hogwarts. She was, after all, the brightest witch of the age and cutest member of the infamous Golden Trio. The only drawback was working with Draco Malfoy.
“Granger,” the youngest Malfoy sneered as he strode into her office like he owned it, “Where is that report? You were supposed to have it finished yesterday.”
“Malfoy, may I remind you that just because you think you should be the next Minister of Magic, it does not give you the right to boss me around.”
“Just you wait,” he simpered while admiring himself in the mirror. “Shacklebolt will go back to being an Auror and then the Ministry will be MINE!”
Hermione turned away; it would not do to allow him to see her laugh openly at him, but she couldn't help it.
“Are you laughing at me?” he said, his tone suddenly serious.
“I'm sorry,” she answered. “You just sound so intense! You really need to relax.”
“Hey! I have issues! My whole family is a bunch of Dark Wizards! I was quite spoiled as a child, and now I have to learn how to grow up and be a man! I've got some serious angst going on!”
“Oh, Draco,” she said as she rose from her desk. “There are so many other things to worry about. For example, you haven't asked me what color knickers I'm wearing today.”
“...”
“Well?” she huffed, hands on her hips.
“What happened to Weasley?”
“He hasn't cheated on me yet, but he will. Everyone says so.”
“So you're, um, single?”
Giggling, “Yeah.”
Shrugs, “Alright. What color are your knickers?”
“We could bother getting to know each other, and I could help you with all your angst, but it seems like such a waste when this great big desk is just waiting for us,” she said blatantly as she slipped off her robes.
Draco, hesitating only a second, allowed his eyes to roam over her. Ooh, yes, she'd been hiding quite a bit beneath those robes all these years. He licked his lips and moved closer.
“I can't wait to find out if the rumors were true,” she told him as he hiked her short black skirt up around her waist.
“The Slytherin Sex God rumors?” he asked as he pulled down his impeccably tailored slacks.
“Mm hmm,” she muttered and swiped the pile of papers out of their way.
*grunt grunt groan groan*
“Yeah, so the knickers thing was true,” he grinned a few minutes later. “I knew they'd be white.”
Blushing, Hermione bantered back, “Seems the rumors about you were not true, Draco.”
“...”
“You're not a Slytherin Sex God, but a Hogwarts Sex God! Wanna get married and have some Dramione babies?”
“Yeah, alright. We could have done worse.”
With a snort, Hermione zipped up her robes and said, “Yeah, you could have been Head Boy.”
4
Title: The Head Students' Bathroom
Author: greenschist
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Word Count: 494
“How dare you come in here, Draco Malfoy!” The Egyptian cotton washcloth that had seemed almost too luxurious for bathing was proving woefully inadequate as a cover-up. “Get out!”
Draco hooked his thumb behind the glittering “HB” badge on his chest and thrust it in her direction. “Head Boy, remember, Granger? That means--,” he resumed picking through the clothes she had left folded on the vanity, “--it's my bathroom, too. Don't you know anything about sharing?”
From the shower, she stared at his back in disbelief. “Sharing a bath doesn't mean sharing it at the same time! Anyway,” she sputtered, “this isn't about sharing. It's about basic things like respect and pri--” Hermione stopped, realizing he was still picking through her laundry. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for your knickers,” he replied, not bothering to turn around.
“What? ”
“Found them!” Like a knight with the Holy Grail, Draco held her knickers up over his head. “I knew they'd be white cotton.”
“Put them down!”
“Think of it as a good deed, Granger.” He lowered his arms and turned to her. “Half the student body can barely concentrate for all the time spent speculating about your knickers. Now I can put their minds at ease, let them get back to work.” He stuffed them into his pocket. “I might even get an award for Special Services to the School for this.”
Schoolwide speculation? About her underwear? Hermione thought she might faint from embarrassment. “I don't believe you,” she said weakly.
“Believe it.” His eyes lingered on the curves of her breasts, barely hidden by the washcloth.
At that moment, Hermione would have given up that precious cloth for her wand and the opportunity to hex his eyes out of his head. “Would you stop looking at me?”
He smirked. “Why? It's not like you have anything I haven't seen before.” The smirk broadened into a grin. “Many times before, actually.”
“Oh, right,” she snorted. “I forgot I was talking to the Slytherin Sex God. Well, I don't believe that, either, Malfoy. If you did half the things people say about you, your--” she scrambled unsuccessfully for a word that would make her sound more mature than him, “--your thing would have fallen off by now.”
Draco laughed out loud. “My thing?” Hermione was sure she was blushing harder than she ever had in her life. “That's just...precious, Granger.” He smiled like the world's best present had fallen in his lap. “You're a virgin.”
She had never felt anything quite like the mixture of embarrassment and rage that boiled her blood then. “That is none of your business! And for the last time, get out!”
“Okay, okay,” he drawled, finally turning toward the door. “Don't be embarrassed about your virginity, Granger. After all,” he paused and winked at her over his shoulder, “we have all year to take care of that.”
The door closed mere seconds before the washcloth hit it with a splat.
5
Title: Sex Kitten
Author: ravenswing34
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 489
Warnings: Cliches :D
A cloud of steam enveloped Draco as he headed into the Head’s bathroom. “Granger? Hurry up! You are over your allotted time! I know that taming that bush you call hair needs time but for Merlin’s sake…” Draco’s voice trailed off as he feasted his eyes on the vision before him. Tight butt, pert breasts, soft skin, amber hair in impossibly long waves, pink lips, luscious thighs - his brain could not keep up with visual bounty before him.
Hermione whipped her mane around and behind her as she leaned against the counter. Running a soft hand through her luxurious curls and waves, she smirked at the gaping Head Boy. Hermione knew she looked good. The year on the run and the ensuing battle had served to melt off the remaining baby fat of her youth. The extra year had also allowed her catch up to the other girls. Her mother had always said she was a late bloomer. And bloom she did. This was to be her year. She was hot and not just hot but Capital H-O-T hot!
Hermione turned around, making sure all assets were covered by her new fuchsia bra and panty set and admired herself in the mirror. Placing the last touch of bubblegum pink lip gloss to her luscious lips, she met Draco’s eyes in the mirror. “Like what you see, Malfoy?”
“Your hair! Your ti… er… your body!” Draco managed to stammer incoherently.
Hermione smacked her lips to make sure her new favorite shade was properly applied and turned around to Draco. She sauntered over to him and ran a small finger down his pajamas front.
“The extra length managed to pull out that pesky tight curl into these soft waves. The year away was good to me, wouldn’t you say? All that running and starving and sleeping in the cold managed to be the best diet a girl could ever have!” Hermione coquettishly said. Looping her arms around his neck, she pressed every curve she had tight against him. “Would you like a sample?”
Draco watched her bubblegum pink lips close in on him…
And woke up screaming.
“Draco, its okay! Its just a nightmare!”
Draco quickly ran a hand down over his wife. Bushy hair, decent breasts, slight tummy, flared hips and ample butt. He gathered his dear lovely wife in his arms and kissed her soundly.
“Another sex kitten dream?” Draco numbly nodded. “The baby and I understand, honey. The healer explained that these types of dreams are normal as you deal with my changing body,” Hermione serenely explained.
“I love you as you are - bushy hair and all!” Draco placed a light kiss on Hermione’s lips and traveled down to place a kiss on her slightly burgeoning stomach as well. As he welcomed the embrace of sleep, he mumbled, “I love both of you.”
Hermione’s only response was a soft smile as she too fell back asleep.
6
Title: How I Fell In Love With My Wife
Author: ilkee
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Marriage Law cliché
Word Count: 468
This was how he liked her best. Asleep.
When her dark, frank eyes were not staring at him, stretching his reluctant emotions like a rubber band, he could finally drop the scowl that had been etched on his face since the day he was told he would have to marry Hermione Granger.
As she lay in quiet surrender he could look openly at her. He could allow his eyes to take in the curve of her shoulder, to roam the resting planes of her cheeks, and the scattering of freckles on her nose. And to stare for long stretches of time at her mouth.
He hadn’t slept properly in months.
He lay next to her, in the bed she insisted on sharing, and listened to her breathing, eyes focused on her softly parted lips.
He had never really touched her. Not even to hold her hand on the day they were married. It felt like an insurmountable obstacle. The Great Wall of China.
Once, when she was sleeping, like she was now, he poked a curl lying defenselessly on his pillow.
But now, his fingers craved something far worse.
He wanted to touch her mouth.
For weeks he had been consumed with the idea. For some reason, the know-it-all’s mouth had become an obsession. With sideways glances he would catalog the many states of her mouth throughout the day. Her different smiles, a familiar smirk, pursed when she was reading, and this one, his favorite, her mouth at rest. This was the one that he sacrificed sleep for. The one he was desperate to touch.
He could do it. He could reach across and touch her mouth and be free of this madness and she would never know. He had been telling himself this for days. She would never know.
And just like he had done every night for more than a week, he slowly reached across the small space, eyes glancing up to hers to make sure she stayed locked in slumber.
But he stopped a millimeter away, the soft puffs of her hot, moist breath fanning over his fingertips and his heart racing. He watched his fingers hover over her mouth. She would never know.
He looked up at her then to see that it was safe, only to find dark, serious, eyes pinning him. His breath stuck in his throat. He was caught. Frozen in place.
Her gaze dropped to his fingertips and then back to his eyes and his heart hammered in his chest. And then her lips moved, and his eyes were riveted there, as her small pink mouth closed around his fingertip in a soft kiss.
“Wife,” he said in a surprised, strangled whisper. She smiled and wrapped her hand around his and brought it to her chest, and closed her eyes.
7
Title: Oh How I Love Thee…Let Me Count the Clichés
Author: inadaze22
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: nudity and light language
Word Count: 499
Trolls, Rita Skeeter, battles, and McLaggen’s hands were all tests that life had thrown her way; tests she had passed with flying colours. Well, tonight Hermione was being tested again. The Head Girl started up the stairs of the Astronomy Tower and instantly knew that she was going to fail this one.
She wasn’t going to survive the year without strangling Draco Malfoy.
Were they even thinking when they named him Head Boy? Apparently not! How could she work with the most egotistical, hedonistic, and indolent wizard in Hogwarts? So, he wasn’t calling her a Mudblood, but he was still an arse. And attractive-she swatted that thought and straightened her spine.
Hermione had expected to find Malfoy with a witch, but the sight of the topless fifth year had made her blush and stammer, “One hundred p-points from Ravenclaw, and a-a week of detention!”
The mortified witch wordlessly fled the scene with her hands covering her chest, leaving them alone. The Head Girl wasted no time. “You wanker!” she exploded. “I waited for you in the common room for an hour! It’s our patrol night, but here you are with some-!”
Malfoy folded his arms. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy?”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Yes, you are. I don’t blame you, though. I’m bloody sexy.”
Hermione snorted. “Your arrogance astounds me, Malfoy.”
“And so does your prudishness.”
It was only then that she realized the Head Boy had backed her into a corner. His scent and proximity unhinged her a bit, causing her voice to waver. “Stop c-changing the subject! This is the t-third time this week-”
He smirked. “Did you stutter, Granger?”
“No, now back away from me before I punch you.”
“You’re tense. You need to relax.” Malfoy hissed the final word.
Hermione held her ground. “I’m warning you, I’ll-”
“You’re not going to hit me. I’m Draco Malfoy: Slytherin Sex-God, virgin-deflowerer, and also, Head Boy.”
“We’ll see about that last one. I’m reporting you and that hussy-”
His face fell. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, try me.” She haughtily challenged.
Malfoy sneered.
“Not the Malfoy sneer! I’m shaking in my knickers!” Hermione exclaimed sarcastically.
“White knickers, I’m sure….” Malfoy started to go on, but caught sight of her tightening fist. “Granger, if you hit me, I’ll-”
“What? Run to daddy?”
He frowned. “Precisely.”
She scoffed. “You’re pathetic.”
“Tsk, tsk, you’re in denial, Granger.” He whispered into her ear, “You know you think I’m sexy.”
Ignoring the tingling in her stomach, the flustered witch shoved him away. He stumbled, but didn’t fall. “You’re completely deluded!” Hermione squared her shoulders and composed herself long enough to tell him about tomorrow’s Prefects’ meeting. “And you had better show up, or I’ll tell McGonagall everything.”
Draco Malfoy waited until she stormed off before he grinned, saying, “Oh, I’ll be there.”
Phase One of his ingenious plan had been a success. It was time for Phase Two….
Yes, Granger would be his before Christmas.
8
Title: For the Good of the Country
Author: imogen_penn
Rating: PG
Warnings: none...except for a high content of ridonculousness
Word Count: 498
Draco’s leather trousers let out a sort of sweaty grunting sound as he crossed his legs, fiercely staring down his father across his desk, eyes squinting in a manner that would have been intimidating if it did not make him look quite so much like a rodent.
“I don’t care if peace in the Wizarding world depends on my marrying that Mudblood, I won’t do it!” he bellowed, “And besides father, when did you join the side of order?”
“Oh it just sort of happened somewhere along the way,” Lucius airily waved a hand, dismissing the question, “Never mind that. You ARE going to marry the Mudblood, and you ARE going to take off those ridiculous leather trousers!”
“I refuse on both counts” Draco said firmly.
Just then, the door to the study opened and Guiton, the ghost butler, led in Hermione Granger.
Since the last time Draco had seen her, she had miraculously become very attractive. Hair straightened, skin tanned, a little less in some areas, a little more in others, and Draco was already reconsidering his opinion on the whole marriage thing…and the leather trousers. Truth be told, they were awfully constricting.
Like the gentleman his (only newly not evil) father (who somehow found time between the slaughtering of innocents) had raised him to be, he stood as she entered, his trousers creaking disconcertingly.
“Granger,” he said coolly,
“Malfoy,” she replied curtly.
“Granger,” he replied, indicating his approval of her new appearance,
“Malfoy,” she replied, suggesting perhaps that she appreciated the leather trousers
“Granger,” he said, taking a step towards her with intention (somehow, he knew not of what)
“Mal…”
“Oh for Merlin’s sake!” Lucius cried out, cutting Hermione off before she could evoke any more expository emotion through use of a last name. “We are here to discuss an arrangement that will benefit the entire Wizarding World, not to rip the trousers off each other. Although,” Lucius mused after a small pause, “If you are able to get my son out of those embarrassingly binding things Miss Granger, please feel free.”
...awkward pause...
“Now,” Lucius said in a business-like tone, “let’s draw up the terms of this arrangement, shall we?”
“Well obviously, there will have to be children, or no one will buy it.” Draco piped in eagerly.
“I really don’t think that’s…” Lucius began.
“Well, if it’s for the good of the country,” Hermione agreed with a not very convincing sigh, “and we should probably have the wedding as soon as possible.”
“I’m sure we can delay for…” Lucius tried to pipe in.
“I suppose if I’m being forced.” Draco agreed, “and we really ought to fall properly in love after a few months of sarcastic snarking.”
“Oh come on now!” Lucius rolled his eyes.
“For the good of the country,” Hermione said, signing her name to the contract with a long suffering sigh.
“For the good of the country,” Draco added, adding his own name.
And then they totally made out.
The End.
9
Title: The Granger Problem
Author: snowe
Rating: G
Warnings: watch out for Draco's self-delusions! :)
Word Count: 499
He couldn't remember, exactly, when the idea had first taken hold.
He'd certainly been shocked to learn that Granger, widely if grudgingly recognized as the cleverest of the first-years, was a Muggleborn, but when one hadn't any friends, and spend all that time in the library...well, he could do as well or better, if he'd tried. Still, though, there were plenty of Ravenclaw swots from proper backgrounds...it was odd. Of course, he had heard those stories of Muggles stealing wizarding children and leaving their own disgusting brats in exchange; maybe...He'd intended to ask his father about it, but Lucius had so furious over end-of-year exam results that he hadn't dared.
The idea danced around the outskirts of his brain once more when Slughorn, that fat old toady, had asked about her connections to Dagworth-Granger, founder of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. He and Nott had snickered over the idea of Miss Mudblood having such illustrious ancestry, but...well, that would explain the Granger problem quite nicely, wouldn't it? All speculation was put aside for the necessity of winning the Felix Felicis--just the thing he needed for his task. When Potter (Potter! Potter! He wouldn't even have had a place in the class if they'd still had a proper teacher!) had won, his fury and disappointment drove the notion out of his head completely.
When the Muggle-born Registration Commission had begun its investigations the following year, he'd wondered if it would turn out to be true; surely Granger would research the matter thoroughly. He couldn't imagine a school-year without her annoying presence, and surely she'd leave no stone unturned in order to come back to school. When he realized on September first that she really wasn't coming, he gave way to a mad impulse and sent her an anonymous owl with his theory. It came back later that night, unopened and, judging from the owl's dejected hoots, undeliverable. He burned the letter immediately, and wondered at his own stupidity in sticking his neck out for Granger. If anyone had found out he'd been trying to help a Mudblood...
When his mandated "service to the community" job put him across the hall from Granger's office in the Ministry, the notion changed from an idle fancy to an obsession. He scoured the Daily Prophet archives, clandestinely explored the Ministry personnel files, gradually piecing together a biography of Hector Dagworth-Granger.
It could be true--Hector was rather infamous for his dalliances with Muggle women...and the timing was right. He casually asked her about her family one day, steering the conversation towards her father's family. Her father had been raised by his mother and step-father...his mother had changed her name, but not her son's.
Granted, she'd be a half-blood, if one applied the term generously. Still, the granddaughter of Dagworth-Granger, even by way of an illegitimate squib, would rank above a Mud--a Muggleborn.
It had to be true. He just couldn't fancy a Muggleborn this way...could he?
10
Title: Subtlety Is Relative
Author: bookishwench
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Word Count: 499
Snape’s Defense Against the Dark Arts exams were usually boring, but Goyle had a brilliant plan. Unfortunately, he was Goyle. His chosen jinx made not only Potter’s quill catch fire, but everyone else’s too, resulting in Lavender leaping into Weasley’s lap in terror.
“Granger,” Snape said, jaw twitching, “quickly retrieve more quills from the second floor supply closet or it’s fifty points from Gryffindor.”
She took off in a blur. Minutes passed, and the combination of restless students and an irate Snape spelled potential homicide.
“Draco,” Snape finally hissed, “get the quills. NOW!”
Despite himself, Draco fled the room. The supply closet door was shut when he arrived. He pulled the knob, but it was locked.
“Granger?” he yelled at the keyhole.
He heard a familiar voice swear quietly. Interesting…
“Leave!”
“No,” he drawled lazily.
“I’ll kill those two,” Hermione mumbled.
Forget interesting; Draco was downright intrigued.
“Back away from the door,” Draco said, chuckling. “One, two… Alohomora!”
The door promptly burst open.
“The quills are right there,” her voice said from the shadows. “Take them and go.”
“Not so fast,” he said, shutting the door. “The only way out is past me, and I’m not moving. Show yourself.”
Quiet sobbing came from the corner. For six years he’d been making her life hell, and she’d never cried in front of him. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t like it.
“Hermione,” he said, surprised he’d used her name, “what’s wrong?”
“Fine!” she yelled, stepping into view. “Look!”
She was almost unrecognizable. Her shoes had become high-heeled stiletto boots with marabou feathers at the cuffs. Above them black fishnet stockings disappeared under an extremely short robe. Its neckline plunged dangerously over a chest that could double as a flotation device. Heavy make-up plastered her face, including blindingly red lipstick, a knut-sized beauty mark, and false lashes so enormous he wondered if her eyelids were strong enough to blink. Stick straight hair as platinum blonde as his completed the effect.
He should have been laughing hysterically while taking pictures to send as Christmas cards. Instead, he felt ill.
“Who did this?” he asked.
She scuffed guiltily at the floor, and he noticed a sweets wrapper lying there.
“Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes Beautifying Bon-Bons?” he read. “You ate this rubbish?”
“They swore it was subtle,” she said miserably.
Fred and George knowingly making a girl who was like their kid sister resemble a tarty circus freak brought the sick feeling back.
“Why would…,” he began, then remembered Lavender leaping into Ron’s lap. “Oh. The Weasel.”
She blushed.
“But this stuff must wear off,” he said.
“In three hours!” Hermione wailed.
“I’ll bring the quills,” he sighed in resignation. “Stay here until you’re normal.”
“Thanks,” she whispered.
He glared at her bizarre, overly sexual appearance, grabbed the quills, and turned the doorknob.
“Weasley’s a fool for not seeing what’s in front of him, and you’re another for thinking you needed those sweets in the first place,” he said, then left, closing the door.
11
Title: Ignited Passions
Author: marlaichen
Rating: PG
Warnings: Implausibility
Word Count: 496
Draco couldn’t remember ever hearing of the Head Boy and Head Girl sharing a dormitory. After a three hour train ride, however, he wasn’t much in the mood to question and instead dropped his bags without a thought at the entrance of his new common room.
Yep, this was going to be a good year. Excepting, of course that one little hiccup. That one little hiccup in the form of a note inclosed with his Head Boy letter, that he dared not show to Lucius. That one little note that informed Draco who this year’s Head Girl was going to be.
With a sigh, Draco settled into the deep leather couch in the center of the common room. It was hard for him to see why he had been chosen as Head Boy, but what was even more difficult to understand was why someone had thought it a good idea to make Hermione Granger this year's Head Girl. Anyone who knew of Hogwarts knew of the infamous rivalry the two shared, as well as their loathing for one another. So who on God's green earth could have possibly thought that the school’s most turbulent year, at the center of a war, would best be governed by one of the most turbulent relationships in Hogwart’s history?
Draco closed his eyes as these and other thoughts swirling around in his head. Maybe I'll get lucky, Draco thought, as the couch slowly enveloped him. Maybe she's died over the summer. The idea did little to comfort him.
At the moment, a loud bang made Draco jump straight up in his seat. He whirled around to see the very girl he had just been pondering, though she differed from his vision of her in two main respects. Firstly, she was fuming. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco could see the cause of the bang as well as her anger. Smashed against the wall was his luggage, which had formerly been blocking the common room door before being blasted by Hermione's wand.
Surprisingly, though, this wasn't what was chiefly engaging Draco's interests. Because secondly, she was gorgeous.
There was something about Hermione that took Draco's breath away. Was it the charred splinters of his suitcase, stuck into the wall behind her, glowed so delicately against her skin? Or the way her eyes flamed so intensely in his direction? Or was it the way her school uniform clung to her form, sticky with sweat from the effort of trying to open the door?
No matter the reason, Hermione never even had the chance to open her mouth before Draco was across the room in three strides and her lips were captured in his own. They stood for a moment, neither daring to breath, as a thin smoke gently curled around them. Finally Draco pulled away.
Hermione blinked.
"Ferret."
She turned and stormed off to her room.
Yep. This was going to be a good year.
ooo
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