Behind the bookshelves

Hey there readers. Ok so you panicked or thought thank god she took it down. TOUGH COOKIES MO-FOES!!! No, I just took the advice from some of you and made some attempts at re-formatting. I had trouble just uploading my story since I only have msword. I don't know how to make the font bigger or to even do proper spacing. If anyone has suggestions to how I would do this other wise please comment. Again, flames are not a nice thing so don't do it. If you have some contructive critism then sure, go on ahead. Also, if you see any spelling mistakes, alert me!
D aka EVILinnocence







CHAPTER ONE: SONGS TO THE DEAF
The noise was deafening all throughout Hogwarts. Quidditch matches being held and the roar of a screaming crowd, gaggles of giggling girls following her best male friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasely as they debated which team would win if given the worst brooms ever to ride, and the sound of teachers instructing. Any other day the sound would mix and meld within her thoughts like a melody.

But not today apparently. Where was her world-renowned discipline and scholastic achievement, she wondered to herself as her fork moved an unpicked plate? Where was her pride in her work and her stability? It seemed these days her emotions were as unreliable as her spell work. She wished she didn’t know who the culprit was but it itched there in the back of her mind no matter how hard she tried to shake it free. A stupid unrequited crush, one that she didn’t want and couldn’t explain.

For years she had held it at bay, satisfied with her invisible status as class know it all. But now her emotions grew impatient. Her seventh year at Hogwarts was soon to draw to a close and although she was proud of the fact that her grades were still impeccable, her pride seem to stumble when her thoughts arrived on how she’d never tried to approach him as someone other than Hermione the Brain. Soon, Hogwarts would be behind her and so would he and any chance to leap towards an impractical and stupid wish of having her feeling returned. The energy spent thinking about whether or not to approach him each day was finally taking its toll on her. It was infuriating really to have so much to do and to waste it on thoughts and feelings for the unworthy, akin to dedicating songs to the deaf.

Hermione Jean Granger wouldn’t say she was a proud person. Quite the opposite. There were moments she envied people like Harry and Ron for just breezing through wizarding classes not caring to know the nine different ways to cure a werewolf bite. She couldn’t help that she needed to answer the unanswerable even if the occupants of the room would suddenly despise her. But she needed perfection. Perfection around her and within her. And how could one have perfection if you, Hermione Granger were besotted with the enemy? You couldn’t really. No, you really couldn’t.

Ron may have been preoccupied for he too had tests, and now Quidditch practice as much as Harry, but he did notice that Hermione looked even more lost than usual beside her body-bag backpack.

“Hermione are you ok? You haven’t even taken out one of your text books to read over lunch." “What?” Her thoughts darted forward. “Oh…did you say something Ron?” Ron’s eyes widened in disbelief, “Hermione what’s wrong with you this week? You’re almost worse than Neville!” Before Ron could take back his dig at Hermione’s memory and attention span, he came forward and it was like all noise, the gaggle of giggling girls, the roar of a Quidditch crowd, Ron and Harry’s voices and the voices of all others, silenced. And the voice that she could always seem to use to say the right answer caught in her throat, captured as she sat conspicuously still. Her heart skipped a beat as he sneered at the three of them, blonde hair flashing reflectively from the false sun painted in the ceiling above.

“Losing your touch mud blood? If Weasely has it right, soon you’ll be failing all your classes and fumbling for the simplest spell just like that failure for a wizard Longbottom or better yet, you’ll be the next grounds keeper!” The quiet drawl was followed by Slitherin laughter. Harry and Ron were already rising from their seats, wands raised. Harry’s pointed to Draco’s forehead as he spoke between gritted teeth. “If Hermione lost her touch tomorrow she’d still out do you any day. You’re just jealous of the fact you have to go home to mommy and tell her you were outscored, out-spelled, and all and out beaten by a muggle-born witch.” An angry and embarrassed flush rose to Malfoy’s cheeks. “I may not get the best marks,” he told them with a sneer, “but I win where it truly counts. Class, blood, and intelligence, only one of which the mud-blood could have possibly challenged me upon. Besides, why what would I get about beating Granger. All I would be beating is a friendless know-it-all mud blood and where is the challenge in that?” Hermione’s gaze was cold and filled with hurt as she watched he and the other Slitherins return to their house table and Harry and Ron fumed from theirs.

“I can’t believe that”-“Horrid slimy”-“disgusting excuse for a”-“What’s wrong with me these days?” Hermione’s spoken thought made Ron’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as both he and Harry stared agape at their female friend. “You cannot possibly believe any of the tripe that just came out of Malfoy’s mouth. We all know he’s just a jealous slimy git. That’s why he picks on you” Ron watched warily as Malfoy finally sat down sandwiched between Crab and Goyle. “That mud-blood stuff is full of dung. You’re a prime example of non-wizard blood witch.” Hermione could not meet their gaze. “I would normally cut him down in five words or less. Even he noticed I’m not up to par lately.” Harry and Ron exchanged twin glances of concern. “Do wanna talk about it?” “I’d rather not. Besides, we all have N.E.W.T.S. in two measly months. I have to go the library!” Ron rolled his eyes as Harry watched Hermione storm off. “You know I may be thick but I think she’s hiding something from us,” Ron gestured with a fork, stabbing in Hermione’s general direction. “What ever it is it can’t be too bad,” Harry pointed out. “After all she’s still Hermione: when in doubt go to the library.”

The library was a source of comfort to her. All the old books stacked in tall towers. Books couldn’t comment blithfully on your slipping intelligence or mind. The words within them could comfort and lend their thoughts and strength to you. Being surrounded by books seemed to do the same for her. Taking care not to disturb the hawk-eyed librarian, Hermione strode to the back section. Here she could find solitude. Sighing she undid the snaps to her book bag only to be dismayed by the ripping bottom seams.

“Damn! I thought I fixed that in Astronomy! Reparo!” What was wrong with her these days? Fretfully, she wondered if her spells were undoing themselves. Aside from being expelled, the very thought terrified her more than death. After all, a silly thing like spells undoing themselves was a sign of weak magic, something that would happen to Neville or a Squib.

Hermione sighed, her thoughts interrupted, as she heard a group of people enter the library doors. It could have been Harry considering how much female tittering she could pick from the crowd. But no, it was him. Draco Malfoy, 7th year stud, a malicious smile already turning about his lips. What was this person’s appeal? Sure he was attractive but Hermione would hope that her sensibilities could see beyond a pretty façade. He was cruel to her two best friends, a cheater, a lying git as Ron or any of his brothers would put it and yet here she was watching from across the room, as invisible as the vanishing room in Hogwarts: a History. He barely knows I exist and why would he? I’m attractive but nothing great to look at, not like Cho or Fleur. The only thing in favor is my intelligence and even that is going to the wayside. Expelling a frustrated breath of air she smiled as group left once more. Silence once again. Shoving her Arithmancy book next to 7th year Astronomy text she unrolled a new stack of parchment for her essay and carefully drew in neat tiny script HG+DM. Staring at her handing work for a moment, she hastily crossed it out. Watching from afar was one thing entertaining thoughts of love with Draco was quite another. After all, being infatuated with a person like Draco was like playing with fire, she could only get burned.