Sucker Love
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
1,904
Reviews:
21
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
1,904
Reviews:
21
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Return of the Lady Part I
Disclaimer: I own a few things – a clock, a television, some pitiful
ideas
Chapter 3
• Hermione
-
-
-
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the Welcome Back Feast?”
It just slipped out. I almost kicked myself right there.
Here I was in front of Dumbledore – my friend; my savior; the one who admitted
me back into Hogwarts with no questions asked. He probably knew the answers to
them anyway. And here I was with my bags in front of him unable to even have
the slightest hint of manners. How about a, “Hello, Professor Dumbledore,” or,
“Nice to see you again, Professor.” I felt like an idiot.
But Dumbledore just grinned.
“I believe you’re a bit late for that on this fine
evening,” he replied calmly, not showing any signs of disappointment or
inapproval at my lack of proper welcome. Instead, he motioned with his hand
towards the main hall near the entrance, his long, shimmery sleeve trailing
behind. “However, I’m sure one of the Gryffindors or perhaps Head Girl or Boy
can share the password to your dormitory with you while assisting you with your
bags.”
Someone else was Head Girl. It stung a hell of a lot more
than I thought it would since I was prepared for it. I bit my cheek.
“No, thank you, Professor,” I replied, my manners
returning to me full speed. Pulling my wand out of my burgundy robe’s pocket, I
quickly levitated my bags and stepped into the hall. “I think I’ll just need
the passwords. Maybe I’ll find Harry or Ron.”
It was strange how easily that last phrase rolled off my
tongue. It was as if I’d seen them everyday of my life; as if I hadn’t
disappe int into what they may have labeled as oblivion for one full,
treacherous year. As if they still even remembered me. Did they? Would they? If
they did, would they care?
“Yes, well, I’m sure Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley will be
just as happy to see you as you them,” Dumbledore assured, as if reading my
thoughts. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he could read my thoughts – if he
was a certified telepathic, even – so I barely gave it any thought. Dumbledore
was just all-knowing, as the sky was blue.
I smiled, truly grateful for the reassurance though it did
little to ease my nerves.
“Thank you, Professor,” I said and began walking to the
Gryffindor tower. I looked around the halls noting how Hogwarts hadn’t changed
at all since my last year here. Same bickering paintings, same stony walls and
mysterious, flamy torches. Perhaps it was the one year Hogwarts failed to face
an apocalypse. Or perhaps it was just the opposite. Maybe all of Hogwarts was
destroyed and they built an exact replica in its place. The sad thing was, I
realized, that I didn’t know enough about the occurrences of the last year in
the wizarding world to even doubt or disprove any of my theories that I’d
concocted in my mind.
I took in more of the chattering portraits and entertained
the idea of asking them what happened while I was gone. For all I knew it
could’ve been nothing more than a couple of broken Quidditch brooms, but it
seemed a world easier to ask a portrait foreign to me about it rather than my
own best friends. If they still considered themselves my best friends.
I turned up to one of the many Hogwarts staircases and
only shifted my wand sideways slightly to angle my bag along with the slope of
the steps. Harry and Ron, I figured longingly, had probably long since moved on
with their lives. It wasn’t even that I didn’t want them to, but I felt the
need to fit in somewhere – to be remembered; at least by them. But that was just
a wish. Perhaps Hermione Granger was a valuable friend before, but she’d gone –
disappeared. I supposed I’d understand if they forgot. I didn’t exactly send
them distress signals from my wand when I wanted desperately to talk to them. I
didn’t exactly send so much as a few pieces of lint from my wand all together.
I supposed I’d turned invisible to them.
“Ow!”
“Bloody hell!”
I rubbed my knee where it collided with the stone – or
maybe marble – floor painfully. I’d just bumped into someone. Okay, I admitted,
maybe I was invisible to everyone else as well.
I picked up my wand first, on impulse, and proceeded to
apologized to whomever I’d just knocked over clumsily. I looked up. ‘Crap’ came
to mind.
“Morning, sunshine. Welcome back.”
It was Malfoy. My day was now complete. I studied him – I
didn’t care if I looked like I as checking out out. We both knew that wasn’t
the case.
He looked – if anything – better since I last saw him. He
grew into his height more, broadened shoulders and all. He was semi-muscular,
which I thought was funny because he, himself, probably thought he looked like
a Muggle wrestling champion. His lips were now pouty, his eyes mischievous, and
his hair was a bit longer than before but lacked the usual hair gel. I found
myself approving the look; I never liked the hair gel much. I never realized
I’d ever had an opinion of his hair.
I also realized I hadn’t answered him yet. By the look on
his face, I could tell he realized it, too.
“Oh, hey, Malfoy,” I said off-handedly, levitating my
trunk once more. “Nice seeing you first thing back at Hogwarts.” I kept my tone
neutral. I left it up to him to interpret the rate of kindness on my statement.
I was completely ready to dish out the remarks as much as he was willing to
offer, but I decided that I wasn’t going to be the one to initiate the
bitch-fest. I learned enough in Muggle schools that I knew not to go looking
for trouble. Just wasted time, it was.
Draco looked at me strangely. That was understandable –
after all, he didn’t know my philosophy. I just gave him a formal smile and
moved past him, my bag following me in mid-air.
I was now heading towards the Gryffindors’ portrait hole
entrance when I heard him.
“Looking good, Granger,” he hollered. “I’ll be seeing
you.”
At that, I couldn’t resist.
I grinned while turning around and brought my palm to my
face. Making an exaggerated kissing noise – complete with a “Muah!” – I let me
hand flail at him before I flipped my hair over my shoulder and walked back
down the hall.
He could hear me laugh. I could hear him smirk.
Walking up to the Fat Lady in the pink dress was a lot
more unnerving than I’d imagined. The anxiety of finally seeing everyone
enjoying the beginning of the last year at Hogwarts was seeping steadily into
me. My hands were annoyingly clammy. I rolled my eyes at myself – this
shouldn’t be been this hard.
But it was. Damn it.
I raised my hand to the portrait, then brought it back
down after knocking on the door faintly. I wrung my hands; stuffed them in my
robe’s pockets and took them back out.
I was nervous – it was obvious. And no one answered.
“They probably didn’t know I was coming,” I reasoned aloud
confidently, then more weakly added, “or they forgot.” Did they? Did they even
know I was coming? Even if they didn’t, why the hell wouldn’t they see who was
knocking on the portrait? They must’ve known, though – Malfoy did. My thoughts
turned to Malfoy. There was something different about him, but I couldn’t put
my finger on it. I couldn’t tell, but I didn’t have much time to ponder it
anyway. The portrait hole opened right then revealing the two happy faces that
I feared would’ve forgotten. Harry and Ron’s hair was mussed as if someone
purposely blended it atop their head.
They were laughing.
The laughing immediately ceased as they saw who was at the
door.
“Malfoy?” they both exclaimed.
Malfoy? I was confused. What in the fu –
“Gee, you’re right, Granger,” a voice came from behind me,
“they really don’t remember who you are.”
Ah. That explained Malfoy. I turned around and came face
to face with his grinning expression. It must have been contagious. I didn’t
know what caused me to do it, but I grinned back at him, too.
What? I reasoned with myself. My own friends noticed
someone they called ‘ferret’ for six years before their long-lost friend who
was standing in front of the aforementioned ferret.
It was funny.
“Mione?” they finally chorused.
“Getting better,” Malfoy patronized, strangely for my
benefit. I shrugged mentally and rolled with it. I’d take what I could get and
grinned back at him – again.
“Looks like,” I agreed. “Looks like.”
.• .• .•
.• .• .• .• .•
.• .• .•
Author’s Note:
Ha, so Draco and Hermione meet. Okay, so bumping into each
other is overdone...but...hey...maybe it wasn’t an accident. Who knows, right?
Review, please, but I’ll post new chapters anyway. I’ve
worked too hard on this story to not continue because I’m not the most popular.
[Sigh] Look at me, I’m trying to make myself feel better. I’m not very good at
it, ha.
Now, onto my one and only wonderful, beyond wonderful
reviewer:
[Ffjunkie]: Thank you so much! Yes, I agree that the
sunglasses were a bit much but I had them there in order for him to show his
‘rich and wealthy’ disgust at Pansy’s character. Hey, be glad I didn’t get him
a car like in the movie – a Malfoy drive a car? Well, I don’t see it. Now the
cigarette, I can see him doing. Okay, so in Harry Potter books you won’t see
anyone asking to go use the restroom without permission, but Draco’s a rebel –
a bad boy. And cigarettes are one of those things that are addictive in both
worlds. Plus, I could use this do advertise a purpose: DRUGS ARE BAD, CHILDREN.
And yeah, I agree Every Me and Every You (the rightful title for Sucker Love
song) is a great song – whenever I’m writing this fic I always listening to
either that or Bittersweet Symphony (the song at the end w/ Katherine finding
out about the journal) so I’m addicted. Again, thanks for reviewing and hence
my big, long reply – you’re the only one to review.
[To the rest]: Keep reading and review other people’s
stories! They rock!
ideas
Chapter 3
• Hermione
-
-
-
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the Welcome Back Feast?”
It just slipped out. I almost kicked myself right there.
Here I was in front of Dumbledore – my friend; my savior; the one who admitted
me back into Hogwarts with no questions asked. He probably knew the answers to
them anyway. And here I was with my bags in front of him unable to even have
the slightest hint of manners. How about a, “Hello, Professor Dumbledore,” or,
“Nice to see you again, Professor.” I felt like an idiot.
But Dumbledore just grinned.
“I believe you’re a bit late for that on this fine
evening,” he replied calmly, not showing any signs of disappointment or
inapproval at my lack of proper welcome. Instead, he motioned with his hand
towards the main hall near the entrance, his long, shimmery sleeve trailing
behind. “However, I’m sure one of the Gryffindors or perhaps Head Girl or Boy
can share the password to your dormitory with you while assisting you with your
bags.”
Someone else was Head Girl. It stung a hell of a lot more
than I thought it would since I was prepared for it. I bit my cheek.
“No, thank you, Professor,” I replied, my manners
returning to me full speed. Pulling my wand out of my burgundy robe’s pocket, I
quickly levitated my bags and stepped into the hall. “I think I’ll just need
the passwords. Maybe I’ll find Harry or Ron.”
It was strange how easily that last phrase rolled off my
tongue. It was as if I’d seen them everyday of my life; as if I hadn’t
disappe int into what they may have labeled as oblivion for one full,
treacherous year. As if they still even remembered me. Did they? Would they? If
they did, would they care?
“Yes, well, I’m sure Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley will be
just as happy to see you as you them,” Dumbledore assured, as if reading my
thoughts. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he could read my thoughts – if he
was a certified telepathic, even – so I barely gave it any thought. Dumbledore
was just all-knowing, as the sky was blue.
I smiled, truly grateful for the reassurance though it did
little to ease my nerves.
“Thank you, Professor,” I said and began walking to the
Gryffindor tower. I looked around the halls noting how Hogwarts hadn’t changed
at all since my last year here. Same bickering paintings, same stony walls and
mysterious, flamy torches. Perhaps it was the one year Hogwarts failed to face
an apocalypse. Or perhaps it was just the opposite. Maybe all of Hogwarts was
destroyed and they built an exact replica in its place. The sad thing was, I
realized, that I didn’t know enough about the occurrences of the last year in
the wizarding world to even doubt or disprove any of my theories that I’d
concocted in my mind.
I took in more of the chattering portraits and entertained
the idea of asking them what happened while I was gone. For all I knew it
could’ve been nothing more than a couple of broken Quidditch brooms, but it
seemed a world easier to ask a portrait foreign to me about it rather than my
own best friends. If they still considered themselves my best friends.
I turned up to one of the many Hogwarts staircases and
only shifted my wand sideways slightly to angle my bag along with the slope of
the steps. Harry and Ron, I figured longingly, had probably long since moved on
with their lives. It wasn’t even that I didn’t want them to, but I felt the
need to fit in somewhere – to be remembered; at least by them. But that was just
a wish. Perhaps Hermione Granger was a valuable friend before, but she’d gone –
disappeared. I supposed I’d understand if they forgot. I didn’t exactly send
them distress signals from my wand when I wanted desperately to talk to them. I
didn’t exactly send so much as a few pieces of lint from my wand all together.
I supposed I’d turned invisible to them.
“Ow!”
“Bloody hell!”
I rubbed my knee where it collided with the stone – or
maybe marble – floor painfully. I’d just bumped into someone. Okay, I admitted,
maybe I was invisible to everyone else as well.
I picked up my wand first, on impulse, and proceeded to
apologized to whomever I’d just knocked over clumsily. I looked up. ‘Crap’ came
to mind.
“Morning, sunshine. Welcome back.”
It was Malfoy. My day was now complete. I studied him – I
didn’t care if I looked like I as checking out out. We both knew that wasn’t
the case.
He looked – if anything – better since I last saw him. He
grew into his height more, broadened shoulders and all. He was semi-muscular,
which I thought was funny because he, himself, probably thought he looked like
a Muggle wrestling champion. His lips were now pouty, his eyes mischievous, and
his hair was a bit longer than before but lacked the usual hair gel. I found
myself approving the look; I never liked the hair gel much. I never realized
I’d ever had an opinion of his hair.
I also realized I hadn’t answered him yet. By the look on
his face, I could tell he realized it, too.
“Oh, hey, Malfoy,” I said off-handedly, levitating my
trunk once more. “Nice seeing you first thing back at Hogwarts.” I kept my tone
neutral. I left it up to him to interpret the rate of kindness on my statement.
I was completely ready to dish out the remarks as much as he was willing to
offer, but I decided that I wasn’t going to be the one to initiate the
bitch-fest. I learned enough in Muggle schools that I knew not to go looking
for trouble. Just wasted time, it was.
Draco looked at me strangely. That was understandable –
after all, he didn’t know my philosophy. I just gave him a formal smile and
moved past him, my bag following me in mid-air.
I was now heading towards the Gryffindors’ portrait hole
entrance when I heard him.
“Looking good, Granger,” he hollered. “I’ll be seeing
you.”
At that, I couldn’t resist.
I grinned while turning around and brought my palm to my
face. Making an exaggerated kissing noise – complete with a “Muah!” – I let me
hand flail at him before I flipped my hair over my shoulder and walked back
down the hall.
He could hear me laugh. I could hear him smirk.
Walking up to the Fat Lady in the pink dress was a lot
more unnerving than I’d imagined. The anxiety of finally seeing everyone
enjoying the beginning of the last year at Hogwarts was seeping steadily into
me. My hands were annoyingly clammy. I rolled my eyes at myself – this
shouldn’t be been this hard.
But it was. Damn it.
I raised my hand to the portrait, then brought it back
down after knocking on the door faintly. I wrung my hands; stuffed them in my
robe’s pockets and took them back out.
I was nervous – it was obvious. And no one answered.
“They probably didn’t know I was coming,” I reasoned aloud
confidently, then more weakly added, “or they forgot.” Did they? Did they even
know I was coming? Even if they didn’t, why the hell wouldn’t they see who was
knocking on the portrait? They must’ve known, though – Malfoy did. My thoughts
turned to Malfoy. There was something different about him, but I couldn’t put
my finger on it. I couldn’t tell, but I didn’t have much time to ponder it
anyway. The portrait hole opened right then revealing the two happy faces that
I feared would’ve forgotten. Harry and Ron’s hair was mussed as if someone
purposely blended it atop their head.
They were laughing.
The laughing immediately ceased as they saw who was at the
door.
“Malfoy?” they both exclaimed.
Malfoy? I was confused. What in the fu –
“Gee, you’re right, Granger,” a voice came from behind me,
“they really don’t remember who you are.”
Ah. That explained Malfoy. I turned around and came face
to face with his grinning expression. It must have been contagious. I didn’t
know what caused me to do it, but I grinned back at him, too.
What? I reasoned with myself. My own friends noticed
someone they called ‘ferret’ for six years before their long-lost friend who
was standing in front of the aforementioned ferret.
It was funny.
“Mione?” they finally chorused.
“Getting better,” Malfoy patronized, strangely for my
benefit. I shrugged mentally and rolled with it. I’d take what I could get and
grinned back at him – again.
“Looks like,” I agreed. “Looks like.”
.• .• .•
.• .• .• .• .•
.• .• .•
Author’s Note:
Ha, so Draco and Hermione meet. Okay, so bumping into each
other is overdone...but...hey...maybe it wasn’t an accident. Who knows, right?
Review, please, but I’ll post new chapters anyway. I’ve
worked too hard on this story to not continue because I’m not the most popular.
[Sigh] Look at me, I’m trying to make myself feel better. I’m not very good at
it, ha.
Now, onto my one and only wonderful, beyond wonderful
reviewer:
[Ffjunkie]: Thank you so much! Yes, I agree that the
sunglasses were a bit much but I had them there in order for him to show his
‘rich and wealthy’ disgust at Pansy’s character. Hey, be glad I didn’t get him
a car like in the movie – a Malfoy drive a car? Well, I don’t see it. Now the
cigarette, I can see him doing. Okay, so in Harry Potter books you won’t see
anyone asking to go use the restroom without permission, but Draco’s a rebel –
a bad boy. And cigarettes are one of those things that are addictive in both
worlds. Plus, I could use this do advertise a purpose: DRUGS ARE BAD, CHILDREN.
And yeah, I agree Every Me and Every You (the rightful title for Sucker Love
song) is a great song – whenever I’m writing this fic I always listening to
either that or Bittersweet Symphony (the song at the end w/ Katherine finding
out about the journal) so I’m addicted. Again, thanks for reviewing and hence
my big, long reply – you’re the only one to review.
[To the rest]: Keep reading and review other people’s
stories! They rock!