*this story was inspired from another bit of fanfiction i began reading..but was no longer available to view the last half of the story*
Draco Malfoy awoke on the last day of the summer holiday to the sound of his parents usual fighting, muffled, but audible from two floors down. He stared at the cathedral ceiling of his immaculate bed chamber that matched all of the other ceilings on the top floor of the pristine Malfoy mansion. "I'm getting sick of this," he said to himself stirring in bed.
After deciding that there was no point in trying to go back to sleep, he tossed back his bed clothes and walked fuming over to his sitting area by the fireplace where he noticed one of their houselves had layed breakfast out for him. As he sat down to his danish he heard a loud crash from downstairs followed by the shattering of glass, and his father's familiar footsteps stomping up to the second floor. "Great," he thought to himself, his face growing hot with anger, "They've started throwing things at eachother again."
It was always the same fight, day after day, "Draco will not be trained by Snape, Lucius!" he heard his mother shrieking from the bottom of the stairs, "That man is a traitor I know it!"
"Do not contradict me in my house Narcissa!" he heard his father say in a low but dangerous voice. "Bellatrix is a good witch, but I will have no son of mine parading about anywhere near Sirius Black or Potter," spat Lucius.
Draco heard a door slam, leaving the mansion in silence.
He felt a throbbing pain in his right hand, and noticed that he'd squeezed his fork with such intensity in his anger that it drew blood. Placing the fork back on the table he stared curiously at his hand as he watched the warm blood bubble out slowly from the small now bruising wound. His anger seemed to seep out of him slightly with every drop of blood.
His door flew open, and he quickly hid his hand under his chair as his father took a few hasty strides into the room, "Begin packing Draco," his father told him angrily, "I've already told you twice. Besides, you'll want to get a few last minute dueling lessons in with Severus before you get on the train tomorrow."
Draco looked up at Lucius with a fearful glance and nodded his head in responce.
"Yes," sneered Lucius, "Pity you couldnt have been naturally tallented like that waste of a wizard Potter, it would be much less expensive."
With that Lucius turned his heal and strode back into the hall slamming the door behind him.
Draco stood up angrily and threw his breakfast table one-handedly across the room, swearing under his breath. He was sick to death of being compared to Harry Potter. Breathing heavily he looked back down at his hand that had already scabbed over. He stood still and silent for a moment, then walked off toward the breakfast mess looking for his fork. _________________ NAME: Willow Arbol
HOUSE: Gryffindor
YEAR: seventh
FUTURE PLANS: Auror...what else?
Last edited by hOuSeLf on July 2, 2007 9:41 pm; edited 2 times in total
The next morning approached more slowly than Draco would have liked, but when it finally came, he found his spirits lifted at the train station where he would be carried off to Hogwarts, and away from his bickering parents until the Winter holidays.
In his excitement to reclaim some sort of power over his life, he lifted his trunk and took a step toward the train. Before he could take another his father's black staff slapped hard against his luggage, "Honestly Draco," his father snorted in disgust, "we are above that sort of thing." He watched his father wave a gloved hand at Kreacher, who began prying the trunk from Draco's hand, and hoisting it up the stairs. "Oh, I nearly forgot," Lucius said quietly, as he placed something cold, and metalic into Draco's hand, "I made a few calls to the Minister's house."
Draco looked down at the bandaged hand his father hadnt noticed to see a badge reading, Slytherine Prefect
Malfoy looked up at his father incredulously, "Made a few calls did you," he said barely surprised.
"Course I did," said Lucius tartly, "Cant have you running about with no authority when that Potter boy is sure to get his being Dumbledores favorite and all."
The train whistle blew its last call, and Draco turned his back on his father without saying goodbye.
The second he stepped on the train the Master ushered him into a car away from all of the others. Inside stood one girl, and one boy from each house with a Prefect badge pinned securely to their robes. Seeing that he didnt have a choice in the matter, he grudgingly attached his pin to his shirt and went to stand by Pansy Parkinson who was about as pleasing to him as his new badge.
To no great surprise he saw Hermione Granger standing at the ready with a notepad and pen waiting for instruction. It was surprising however to see not Harry at her side, but Ron Weasly who was flushed in the face and straightening his robes nervously. "Dad will get a kick out of that one," Draco thought unhappily picturing his winter holidays dedicated to hearing nothing but how Dumbledore favores Mudbloods, and rubbish Wizards who were little better.
After barely hearing a word of his instruction from the coach master, they were dismissed to their duties. Draco followed behind Ron and Hermione pretending to listen to Pansy's rant about her summer holiday. Walking passed an open car he spotted Harry sitting alone, staring out the window. Draco kept walking, he always hated Harry for what he was, and how his father, Lucius, always compaired them. For the first time however, Draco pittied Harry, because of the times he had been face to face with the Dark Lord. Draco had grown up in fear of the Dark Lords power, and he couldnt begin to fathom how Harry felt. _________________ NAME: Willow Arbol
HOUSE: Gryffindor
YEAR: seventh
FUTURE PLANS: Auror...what else?
Draco was sick of all of the trapped emotion inside of him, and began itching for a release. He walked to the nearest empty compartment, and closed himself inside, took a seat, and sat for a moment with his head in his hands. feeling inside his robes, he withdrew a small razor he'd brought from home, unwrapped his hand, and began picking at the pre-existing scab. His mind began replaying the summers events of his fathers constant mind games, and open expressions of dissappointment. The brief twindge of the scabs removal wasnt good enough to rid him of these memories. He sat angrily to his knees on the floor of the train, and dug the razor furiously into his arm. The seering pain overwhelmed his mind and the endorphines in his body errupted. Blood ran freely down his forearm into a puddle on the floor, and tears of shame ran down his face, " Whats wrong with me? he thought to himself.
The compartment door opened, and there stood Hermione wide-eyed and prefect pamphlets in hand. Draco looked up at her incoherently at first, unable to think of any insulting words to repel her from the room. She regained her composure slightly and hurried inside the door, closing it behind her so that no one would see what was happening.
Pulling a hanky from her inner robe pocket, she wrapped it tightly around his arm as to stop the bleeding, "Draco, whats happened?" she gasped in concern, as her eyes fell apon the bloodstained razor to his side.
Draco watched her hands raise to her mouth in shocked realization, and fear rose in his own mind, "If I want your help, I'll ask for it you filthy mudblood!" he shouted at her angrily, "Get out of here!" he shouted again pointing a shaking finger at the door.
She blinked at him briefly, as though deciding whether or not she was offended, then lowered her hands. "I hope that you will ask for it when you're ready," she told him tearfully and quiet, "It doesnt have to be like this for you."
He watched her turn and walk toward the compartment door, and he rose to his feet in an irrate frenzy, "Yeah, run along now!" he shouted at her again, "Run along and tell your friends Potter and Weasly what a pathetic git I am, that'll give them a great laugh." He was now shaking so badly from his bloodloss and towering anger, that he thought it amazing to still be standing.
Hermione looked back at him with an honest expression, "I would never tell anyone about something like this unless you asked me to," she told him turning again to leave.
He watched her exit the compartment and close the door behind her. Exhausted, he collapsed back down into the seat behind him, and looked at the puddle of blood in disgust, Scurgiffy,he said pointing his wand at the mess, and watched it dissappear instantly. He picked up the blade from the floor, examened it briefly, then placed it back into his pocket when something else cought his attention. One of the pamphlets that Hermione was delivering door to door was laying just inside the door as though it had been slid underneath. He walked to it curiously, and picked it up looking at its heading, "ADOLESENCE: The pros, cons, and how to cope."
He began thinking of his past with Hermione, and how badly he'd always treated her. He smiled slightly at the memory of their third year when she'd finally gotten fed up with him, and gave him a good knock in the face. His smile faded into a pondering frown as he looked down at her hanky tied to his arm, and he couldnt help but wonder to himself, "Why would she want to help me?" _________________ NAME: Willow Arbol
HOUSE: Gryffindor
YEAR: seventh
FUTURE PLANS: Auror...what else?
*well this isnt from the harry potter series.. this storyline is from my head..and i dont see anything wrong in switching small details like that up a bit.* _________________ NAME: Willow Arbol
HOUSE: Gryffindor
YEAR: seventh
FUTURE PLANS: Auror...what else?
I havent written any yet no.. but i plan to write another part to this one later tonight. Im glad you all are enjoying it! _________________ NAME: Willow Arbol
HOUSE: Gryffindor
YEAR: seventh
FUTURE PLANS: Auror...what else?
Hermione stepped into the hall closing the door between her and Draco. As she looked up from the handle she saw Ron looking back at her, "What was he yelling about now?" he asked off-handedly, still readjusting his Prefect pin.
"Nothing," Hermione said a little more hurridly than she'd have liked. "Just upset about having to mingle with non-slytherines I expect," she told him trying to sound normal.
Ron looked up at her with an expression that suggested he wasnt a bit surprised, "I dunno why he thinks he's so much better than everyone else," Ron told her as they began to walk toward Harry's compartment, "...just because his dad's wallet is a bit fat."
She nodded absently barely hearing the words coming from Ron's mouth as they walked. She felt horrible for being disagreeable with Draco in the past. Before, she thought him simply to be a spoiled, stuck up, little rich kid, but now she could understand that his actions were spawning from more than just snobbery.
After Draco calmed down slightly, he decided that since this Prefect thing was stuck with him, he might as well make the best of it. After pulling down the sleeve of his robes, he crumpled the pamphlet he'd found, tossed it in the nearest bin.
He stood up weakly, and opened the door, heading out of the compartment to find Crabb and Goyle who were standing at the end of the hall ransacking the snack trolley, while the witch in charge had left it unattended. Draco smiled at the sight of them, and began walking in their direction, "You know," he said to them from behind making Goyle jump, and spill pumpkin pasties all down his front "now that I'm a Prefect I cant be seeing the two of you doing things like that can I?," he asked with a hint of sarcasm.
Crabb turned around smiling, and pulled Draco into a brief one armed hug, "Good to see you survived yet another summer in the Malfoy house," he said handing him a chocolate frog as they began progressing down the hall.
"Yeah, well Im used to it," Draco told him accepting the frog. He felt the empty words come out of his mouth, and they sounded as natural and sincere as though they were true. He began to think of Hermione again, and started to feel sorry for shouting at the only person who'd ever tried to help him with anything. He looked down at his frog, and an idea dawned on him, "I've got to go do some Prefect stuff," he lied to the two of them, "see you at the castle."
He hurried off in the opposite direction, leaving Crabb and Goyle standing there gaping after him.
When the train stopped, Hermione was stationed just outside the exit to direct the first years to the lake. She was ushering a great clump of them in Hagrid's direction when she felt a something slip into her pocket. She turned quickly, and was surprise to see it was Draco who'd brushed passed her at that instant. She watched him as he made ready to help the rest of the students into the carriages, and thought she caught a glimps of a genuine smile cross his lips. She was shocked to find that she found him quite attractive without his usual smug expression, and turned quickly before he noticed her staring. She reached into her pocket curiously, and withdrew a chocolate frog with a miniature scroll attached to it. She pulled the parchment open, and the note read, "
Hermione,
I'm sorry that I treated you badly
earlier on the train, I know you were
simply trying to help.
Malfoy _________________ NAME: Willow Arbol
HOUSE: Gryffindor
YEAR: seventh
FUTURE PLANS: Auror...what else?
The first few weeks went as smoothly as could be expected for Draco, seeing as how he hadn't had the opportunity to prepare himself for the tedious, and time consuming responsibilities of being Prefect. He tried to keep to himself as much as possible these days, avoiding conflict with Weasley, Potter, and he even began to avoid his usual excursions with Crabb and Goyle, whose only care revolved around the Dark Lord's return.
"Sometimes I think the Dark Lord is your only interest in me," he told them angrily one day, "I've told you loads of times that my father tells me nothing." But Draco did know many of the fine details that would come into effect sooner than he would like, and he felt dirty knowing these things, unable and too afraid to stop them.
He walked about the school wearing a badge that represented leadership, friendship, and service, but as he glanced around at his fellow classmates, whose faces were splashed with ignorant bliss, he wondered how many of them would die because of his cowardice.
Slytherines first quidditch match of the season was this afternoon. They would be playing Gryffindor, and Draco's heart raced with anxiety as he knew his father would be there watching, judging. He'd abandoned greesing his hair back for ages now, and it laid shaggily about his face. He han his fingers through it absently to keep it out of his eyes as he paced about the common room, his emotions rising uncontrollably. Unable to take it any longer, he looked around the room quickly, and seeing that everyone had left for the match, he walked over to his chair and crouched on the floor. He'd hidden his razor in the underfabric of the black leather seat where he was sure no one would find it if they were to search his things.
After removing it slowly, he routinely pulled up the arm of his robes, and placed the cold blade against his skin. He hesitated, breathing heavily, as he looked at the deep, angry gashes lining his arms, "I hate this," he thought to himself, tears streaming freely down his face, "he's hurt me all my life, and now he's managed to make me hurt myself."
Draco stood up furiously, throwing the blade across the room, and yanking his roble sleave back into place. He was still itching adictively for that sharp, stinging, release of emotion, but willed himself not to retrieve the razor. He needed help, but didnt know where to begin. His pride had never allowed him to ask anyone for assistants in the past, and felt quite lost. Still breathing heavily, he wiped the tears from his face, and wispered, "I need to talk to Hermione." _________________ NAME: Willow Arbol
HOUSE: Gryffindor
YEAR: seventh
FUTURE PLANS: Auror...what else?
Draco walked ridgidly toward his dorm, kicking the blade from view as he strode past it. Tearing a piece of parchment from his scroll, he quickly scribbled a note to Hermione simply asking her to come and speak with him. He read the note once over, hoping that he didnt sound too desperate. Deciding it was fine, he attached it to the leg of his pet Raven, "Take this straight to Hermione, Beldin," Draco told the bird as he thrust it out the nearest window. Watching its great wings spread, Draco realized that Beldin wasn't heading toward the stadium as expected, but toward the Gryffindor tower, "Good," he thought to himself, "she hasn't left yet."
Seeing the stadium off in the distance, Slytherine banners flying high, Draco gave a sigh of defeat, "Whats the use," he said to himself half-heartidly, "With Potter on the pitch I've got about as much of a chance catching the snitch as I would playing Krum," he kicked the bystanding endtable, located innocently beside him, and it fell to the floor with a thud. He began pacing once more, regretting the note he'd sent almost at once. Stopping, he realized that he had no idea what he was going to say to her if, or when she arrived.
Hermione looked up startled , as a jet black raven began screeching its massive talons on the window of the common room. She noticed the parchment attached to its leg with surprise, as she wasnt aware people used birds other than owls to send messages. Standing from her seat, she approached the window causiously, opened it, and the bird swooped gracefully inside perching itself on the inner window ledge. He stood with a kind of elegance, and poise that Hermione had never seen used by an animal. Reaching out his leg, Beldin offered her the note, which she removed curiously. He lowered his head, and gave her an open winged bow, only to fly straight out the window to, where Hermione assumed, he had originally came.
She opened the note, and was surpirsed to see that Malfoy was requesting her presence. The wording of the note seemed tranquil enough, but his handwriting suggested otherwise. The letters of his words were dark and jagged, as though he'd written it in a frustrated haste. She hadnt forgotten their encounter on the train, and made for the portrait hole immediately.
Before she knew it, she was standing at the statue entrence of the Slytherine common room, not quite knowing what to do. She didnt know the password, so she knocked hopefull on the stone. To her surprise it sprang to life, and moved aside revealing Malfoy standing just inside.
"Come in," he told her moving back toward the black leather couches near the raging fire. She followed him obediently, and sat facing him in the opposite chair. Draco's mind was racing, how was her to begin? He managed to open his mouth a couple of times to begin, but always stopped in fear of what she might say as a result.
"What's going on?" she asked him after a few minutes of watching him fidgit uncomfortably in silence.
He couldnt bring himself to say the words. Why couldnt he just say he needed help?
Hermione leaned forward and placed her hand on his knee reassuringly, "Its ok Draco," she said quietly, "you can trust me."
Feeling her hand on his knee sent a warming sensation up his spine, and despite everything he noticed how beautiful she looked.
Still unable to utter any form of speach, he decided it would be best to start off just by showing her.
Hermione watched Draco stand at his seat, and raise his hands to the buttons on the shirt of his robes. He unfastened them, and shrugged off the left side of his shirt revealing his pale, muscular build.
She was taken aback as she watched him remove the rest of his shirt, and slid back uncomfortably in her seat. Draco on the other hand was not phased. Before he began cutting himself, several people a day would see him shirtless in the locker rooms, and he hadnt exactly been without girlfriends either.
Face reddening, she wondered what he was playing at until he moved further into the light. Hermione raised her hands to her lips in a gasp, as she peered at the scars and gashes covering his left arm, and a small part of his chest. The day she found him bloody on the floor of the train flashed into her mind. It took a second for her to realize that he'd moved from the standing position to sit in the chair next to her. Finally lowering her hands, she slid to the edge of her chair to get a better look at him. She ran her fingers lightly over his wounded arm, almost to confirm to herself that it was real. She looked up at him to speak, but stopped herself as she noticed a single tear streaming down his face.
"I...I cant stop," he told her, weakly forcing the words out of his mouth. He felt a bit of relief brush over him when she hadnt run away screaming at the idea of someone willingly cutting themselves, and the feeling of her hands running up and down his forearm was soothing as well, no one had touched him in weeks.
He closed his eyes savoring the feeling until she finally spoke, "Why do you do this to yourself?" she asked him still in a bit of shock. She knew he was doing this of course, but she had no idea it was this advanced.
Draco felt everything begin to spill out of him about his peaking emotions, family issues causing them, and how he discovered his release. "...It's just that nothing I do is good enough. He controlls my whole world, and when I do this," he said gesturing to his arm, "I feel as though I have a bit of that control he's taken." When he finished, he looked up from the floor and saw her eyes filled with pity and tears. This made him uncomfortable, because pity isnt what he wanted.
"Oh Draco.." Hermione said speechlessly, "I had no idea, I mean, I thought you had a good relationship with your father."
He put his shirt back on and buttoned it up conservatively, "Look," he told her at a sideways glance, "I dont need your pity, I just need your help. You're the only person who knows about this, and its no secret that you're the most intelligent witch in our class, thats why I've asked you to help me." He spread out on his chair, finally beginning to relax a bit.
Hermione straightened in her seat, her face growing hot with flattery, "Of course I'll help you Draco," she told him quietly, "I told you that I would when we were on the train."
Draco looked at his watch, "I've got to get to the pitch," he told her standing regretfully.
"Alright then," she replied standing as well, "I'll go to the library and see what I can find out about all of this, and you can send word for me when you're ready."
Before he realized what he was doing, he pulled her into a soft hug, "Thanks," he said to her quietly, before releasing her from his grasp, "I'll do that." He gave her a faint smile, then proceeded toward the door. He grabbed his broomstick, and held the door open for her as they left.
She looked back at him once more as they left the statue,"Bye then," she said to him unsure of whatelse to say. He waved back in acknowledgement watching her head off toward the library, then headed off to indirectly face his father. _________________ NAME: Willow Arbol
HOUSE: Gryffindor
YEAR: seventh
FUTURE PLANS: Auror...what else?
Last edited by hOuSeLf on July 9, 2007 8:28 pm; edited 3 times in total
I hope to post another entry later this evening or tomorrow. I'm away right now so i havent had much of a chance. Keep coming with any comments that you all have! Your support and criticism is much appreciated _________________ NAME: Willow Arbol
HOUSE: Gryffindor
YEAR: seventh
FUTURE PLANS: Auror...what else?
I'm enjoying this piece of fanfic. It's an intriguing idea to put Draco with Hermione! I was pulled along fine until your most recent installment. It could be refined.
Once Hermione is in the room with Draco, the pacing goes a bit fast and it's hard to figure out who's feeling what. Maybe more dialogue when Draco is explaining why, although I'm not sure it makes sense for him to just gush out everything he feels. Maybe if he was vague, like, "The pressures...it's hard to live up to my dad's expectations." Maybe it could slowly dawn on Hermione that he is doing this to himself. Honestly, if someone showed me a cut-up arm, it wouldn't immediately occur to me that it was self-inflicted.
Then, it could be a little more drawn out when he gets annoyed that she is feeling pity for him.
I edited my last post per your request..I hope it is an improvement over the previous one! : ) thanks once again for the input. _________________ NAME: Willow Arbol
HOUSE: Gryffindor
YEAR: seventh
FUTURE PLANS: Auror...what else?
Hermione skived off the match completely, and was sitting in the library, books stacked high. She made a disgruntled note on her parchment, and went back to reading. She couldnt seem to find anything that would be much help short of theropy, and Draco wanted to keep this secret. She fretted as she read, her attention slipping from time to time. She didnt want to let him down after he'd confided in her, and she had to admit that the hug he gave her was a bit destracting as well. What was that about? Did he think more of her than just being 'the smartest witch in their class?'
Her thought was interrupted when she noticed a towering stack of familiar looking quilted hats bouncing along behind her mountain of books. She spread the literature aside with her hands, only to reveal an ear to ear smile on the houself Dobby's face.
"Hello Hermione mam," Dobby said excitedly, "Dobby still likes his hats very much, yes he does mam." Dobby told her, pointing.
"Im glad to hear it Dobby," she replied smiling faintly, remembering SPEW, and how he had taken all of the elf clothing she'd worked on.
He smiled bowing to her, and went on to his cleaning.
She watched him walk away smiling to herself, as she decided to be happy for Dobby's own happiness. Watching him dance about, the solution finally hit her, "Dobby!" she said to herself in a harsh whisper of realization. She reshelved the books with a flick of her wand, and headed out of the library in haste.
Draco was walking back from the pitch, covered in mud, and not feeling as aweful as he could have. Potter caught the snitch, but Slytherine won by twenty points. He left the stadium before his father could have any disconcerting words with him. He wanted to enjoy the evening, afterall how often was it they won against Gryffindor? The pang of excitement he was feeling was a peculiar sensation. He couldnt remember the last time he felt this good. At this thought, his mind swept back to the common room where he'd pulled Hermione into a tight embrace. He smiled at this as he walked through the entrance hall, "too bad she isnt exactly someone I could take home to the family," he thought. He smiled more broadly at what his fathers reaction would be to him bringing a muggle borne into their home. "There you are father," he would say, "now Im more like that waste of a wizard Potter you're always comparing me to."
He could never do such a thing of course. He admitted to himself that he'd used girls in the past to fulfill certain needs of his, but Hermione was different, plus there was her safety to consider. He wouldnt put it past Lucius to make an example out of her.
A shiver ran through him at the thought of this, and nearly all of his excitement from Quidditch had vanished. He walked up to the gargoyle, and pointed its wand at it saying, "Pureblood." The gargoyle sprang to life and moved aside for him. He drudged inside and flopped down on the couch wondering if it was too late to call on Hermione. Deciding it should probably wait until tomorrow he laid down and began watching the raging fire in the handsome stone fireplace. The wood sang him a soothing song, as it snapped and cracked in rhythm, and he soon found himself drifting off to sleep. _________________ NAME: Willow Arbol
HOUSE: Gryffindor
YEAR: seventh
FUTURE PLANS: Auror...what else?
Why thank you!
Im glad that you suggested the revisions.. you were quite right. I like it better this way as well. _________________ NAME: Willow Arbol
HOUSE: Gryffindor
YEAR: seventh
FUTURE PLANS: Auror...what else?
Draco woke the next morning to Crabb poking him incessantly in the side, "Oy! Malfoy!" he was saying loudly with each jab, "What are you doing sleeping out the couches?"
Realizing that he must have fallen asleep where he layed down the night before, he sat up hurridly, "Long night," he answered vaguely as he stood to walk away from Crabb. He was still a bit sore about the way his friends had been treating him, and wasnt much fond of the idea of conversing at the moment.
He walked up to the boy's dorms with full intention of going back to sleep on his four poster, when he noticed a letter that Beldin had brought back after his nightly hunt. "What's this?" he asked his bird as he reached into the cage to grab the letter. Noticing his fathers hand writing he hesitated briefly, then decided he'd better open it, or things would be worse off later. He tore open the envelope and began to read,
Draco,
You're performance on the pitch last
night was much less than admirable. Slytherine
would have suffered an embarrassing loss
if I hadn't interjected, and performed the
imperius curse on that Gryffindor Johnson
girl. After making sure she dropped the quaffle
so McNair could recover it, I was sure you'd have
the ability to catch the snitch while Potter was
distracted by the fumble. You've managed to
prove me wrong once again. I'm begining to wonder
why it was that I spent that money on those broomsticks
for the team, if you refuse to use them for their worth.
Don't embarrass me again, Draco.
Father
Draco crunched the letter angrily in his hands and tossed it hard into the trash bin. How could Lucius do this? All of the happiness he had at the Slytherine win had vanished with every word of that forsaken letter. Letting out an irritated shout, he began toward his chair for his razor out of habbit, but paused remembering Hermione and his agreement. He scribbled a quick note, and sent Beldin off with it immediately, then sat cross-legged on his bed, determined not to hurt himself.
Hermione was in the Room of Requirement doing some last minute furnature arranging to suit their needs, when Beldin swooped in the open window with a letter. "Perfect timing," she thought as she responded with directions on the same scrap of parchment, and sent it back out the window with Beldin.
Hermione looked about the room once again to make sure everything was in order. Walking into the room thinking of Draco's needs, it filled itself with books consisting of calming potion recipes, shelves with jars of ingredients, a gym area to take out frustrations in a healthy manor, comfort foods in nearby nook, and what Hermione found most interesting, was how the room was decorated wi
Rules
FAQ
Search
Memberlist
Usergroups
Register
Profile
Log in
Very nice! *waits for more*