FANTASY. WRITTEN BY ME.
Author Note: Yes! It is I! Again! Teehee, I decided to edit this once more because it really wasn't up to scratch and I wasn't that satisfied with it at all! This time though, I've edited out all the plot holes (or most of them at least) and actually re-written some of it, although the plot is still exactly the same! I've also decided to get rid of my Thanks - I just hope everyone knows how much I appreciate the reviews! All my reviewers have not only given me advice and tips, but also support, and for that I shall be forever grateful.
But now, on with this! I hope you enjoy reading this fanfic, and please feel free to leave a review if you haven't already!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Thank you for your attention.
Chapter One: And so it begins.
It was the beginning of Hermione Granger's seventh year at Hogwarts and everyone knew that 'It' was coming. The usual beginning-of-school laughter had died and although Hogwarts was safe from His clutches for now, there was no doubt that He would soon be paying a visit and the long-awaited war would begin.
Harry and Ron had not been contacting her as much over the summer holidays. She had not got an invitation to the Burrow (as she normally would have), and they seemed to be avoiding her.
'It's only been a week since we've all been back at Hogwarts,' she thought, as she pretended to read Hogwarts: a history. 'Maybe they've just been busy over the holidays . . .'
'Yeah. Maybe. But maybe they just don't like you anymore. After all, who would want to hang around with a Know-It-All bookworm?'
Hermione shook her head vigorously, trying to block out her thoughts. She got up and decided to go on a walk by the lake (making sure she grabbed some crackers for the squid before setting off). It didn't take her long to reach Hogwarts' Black Lake. As she neared, she could see that someone else was already there.
"Stupid McGonagall."
Draco Malfoy muttered darkly as he grabbed another dead rat and threw it into the lake. A giant tentacle could be seen reaching out to grab it.
"Making me do detention out here in the freezing cold at (he raised his voice so that it was high-pitched) precisely 7:56pm, or else Mr. Malfoy!"
And all this because he had accidentally on purpose transfigured Pansy's nose into a button because she was annoying him so much. In fact, Draco thought it was an improvement. He threw another dead rat into the lake, huffily sitting down on the damp grass.
"I see someone's in a bad mood."
He turned swiftly around and saw (to his disappointment) that it was only the mudblood that he oh-so dearly despised. Hermione gave him an evil smile, stepping closer towards him.
"What do you want?" Draco sneered. Hermione froze, holding her nose in disgust as she stood beside him.
"What do you want, mudblood?" He repeated. Still, she didn't reply. "Am I so devilishly handsome that I make even a mudblood like you speechless?"
At this, Hermione immediately spoke.
"For your information, I was just looking at that tub of dead rats that seems to be decaying!" she said indignantly. She tried to make herself look bigger than Draco and she failed miserably. He smirked.
"Got you talking didn't it, Granger?" She scowled at him with all her might. "What are you doing out here anyway, mudblood?"
"I could ask you the same thing, Malfoy."
"As a matter of fact, I'm out here serving McGonagall's detention." He smirked again as he saw the look of confusion on Hermione's face.
"That doesn't explain the rats, Malfoy," Hermione frowned, looking at the bucket and stepping away from it. "For all I know, you could be brewing some illegal potions with them or something. Or, even, poisoning the squid!"
Draco rolled his eyes. For a mudblood who had gotten the top grades in the entire year, she was pretty dense sometimes. Draco's best subject was Potions (of course), and he knew that no potion contained the ingredient: Dead Rats.
"McGonagall told me my punishment was to sit out here in the freakin' cold, tossing dead rats at the squid for him to eat." As Draco finished his sentence, he felt disgusted with himself. He was actually having a conversation with a mudblood. And it wasn't just any mudblood, it was mudblood Granger - Potty and Weasels little sidekick, which made it a hundred times worse.
'What would father say to this?' He thought.
"Oh. Well . . ." Hermione sighed, giving the tub of dead rats another disapproving look. She sat down on the damp grass about eleven feet away from Draco. 'Better sit away from him. Just to be safe.' She thought.
"What do you think you're doing, you filthy little mudblood?"
She glared at him. She had thought for a moment that he was going to be he ever stop insulting her, just for one minute?
"What does it look like, Malfoy?" She said as she threw a few crackers into the lake. A splashing sound could be heard as a tentacle broke the surface of the water, grabbing the crackers eagerly. "I'm sitting down! Or do you need glasses?"
"I can see that you're sitting down, Granger! What do you think I am, blind?" He stood up angrily, "I'm asking why you're sitting so close to me? Practically NEXT to my precious body!"
"I'm not sitting next to your 'precious body'!" she screamed, "Look at the distance between us! I made sure I'd do anything but go near you!"
He eyed her suspiciously for a second, before saying, in a surprisingly calm voice, "Sheesh Granger, keep your hair on. Actually, don't, you'll look better without it, and anyway, you're still too close to me. You should at least be sitting over there, by that tree or something."
He pointed towards her left. She looked and turned back to glare at Draco once again.
"That's the Whomping Willow! If I sat next to that, I'd get thrashed to the ground and beaten the hell out of!"
He smirked at her. His eyes looked like they were twinkling in the sunset, but it was an almost evil kind of twinkle, much different from the twinkle in Professor Dumbledore's eyes. "That's the point, Granger."
They continued to bicker for at least half an hour, once in a while throwing the odd dead rat or cracker into the lake, until the bucket was empty and the packet (that used to be full of crackers) contained only a few crumbs. They shouted, and glared at one another, fists clenched and teeth gritted, all the while unaware that somebody was watching them from afar . . .
"So, are they talking, Albus?" She asked him nervously.
"Why yes, Minerva. It is working perfectly." He replied, his eyes glinting mysteriously in the moonlight.
"Excuse me, Professor, may we leave now?"
The Headmaster looked up. He had almost forgotten that they were still waiting there.
"Of course, but do remember what I have said Mr Potter, Mr Weasley," He said as he surveyed them through his half moon spectacles. "If they find out, then we are sure to lose everything. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Professor."
Minerva McGonagall waited until the two young men exited the room. She turned to her old friend, Albus Dumbledore.
"Albus, do you mind me asking-
"I know what you are questioning, Minerva. I know Miss Granger was going down to the lake at this precise time because she is very predictable, almost too predictable for her own good." The Headmaster of Hogwarts peered around the curtain once again, staring at the bickering seventeen-year-olds standing by the Black Lake.
"But, Albus," Professor McGonagall began, "It is highly unlikely that Miss Granger, and Mr Malfoy, would do as you presume and I doubt Miss Granger is feeling at all happy about the fact that her two best friends are ignoring her."
"Yes, Minerva," He continued to stare out of the window, "But it is for the best. We need help for what is coming, and you can't deny what is heading our way. Even the students can sense the tension."
"Yes, but," she gestured towards the window, "Your prediction is more than likely to fail and your plan as well. It is easy to see that they have no feelings towards each other."
"They don't now, but they soon will, if all goes according to plan."
Professor McGonagall raised one eyebrow and thinned her lips. She would normally trust Dumbledore, for he was a wise man, but his plan this time seemed too strange, too unlikely - impossible even. But if the plan didn't succeed then their advantage against the darkness would be lost, and she knew well that they had no other plan to fall back on.
Edited Version:25th July 2005