A/N: Hi peoples! This is my VERY FIRST fanfiction! Lovin' the Draco/Hermione ship forever… despite what JKR says. Yup, please review! Anything's welcome… even flames! I want my story to be the best it can be… because I really don't have experience. Tell me all the bad stuff you could find about it… just tell me! Yup, tell me everything, really. (lol) I've written the second chapter already… so… please, just tell me! I really want to know what my story… if it's good or not. Please please please! BTW!!! This is DEFINITELY a Draco/Hermione fanfic… it's not normal for Draco and Hermione to run together and start kissing. ;)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
'Tap tap tap'
Hermione tore her eyes away from the clean parchment beneath her quivering quill.
"Come in." she sighed.
'Tap tap tap'
"Come in." She repeated a little louder.
'Tap tap tap'
Hermione groaned in frustration. 'Who the in the world is this?' she thought. Lifting herself off the leather chair's armrests, she glided across the few feet that separated her desk and her office door and swung it open.
"What on earth… " Hermione rubbed her temples lightly. Not even a ghost appeared before her door, or anywhere near it.
"Must be working too hard." She whispered to herself.
'Tap tap tap' She spun around quickly and finally located where the "knocking" came from. A brown barn owl was desperately trying to keep up with her window's height.
"Oh!" yelped Hermione. She quickly walked to the window and let the owl in. It hooted in anger when Hermione tried to untie the envelope that was tied to its leg.
"I'm terribly sorry. I'll give you a rat, alright?" She turned around and pointed her want to a nearby quill.
"Vera Verto," she mumbled. The owl swooped the rat up and took off. Hermione sat down and ripped the envelope open. She recognized Harry's neat chicken scratch anywhere.
My sweet little bookworm,
How's work? I'm being murdered with it here. 'Quite the same here I could assure you.' Hermione thought. I'm almost buried in the pile of stuff I've got to do 'Tell me about it!' she mumbled. Anyway, that means that I have to go O.T. (A/N: Over time) tonight. So sorry hun! I swear I'll make it back to you, alright? Saturday for sure. No distractions, no work, no friends. Just you and me babe. Don't have to wait for me tonight, alright? Muah.
Love,
Your fiancé.
Hermione felt a pang of hurt; not that she wasn't expecting it. Harry had sent her these kinds of messages at the end of the day for quite a while now. Even if Harry had the time to pry himself from his time hogging job, Hermione would be the one that needed to work overtime. On weekends, Harry would go out with friends, or have many errands to run. If not, then Hermione would need to visit her parents, or work. It had been a very stressful few years for the both of them.
Much had happened after their seventh year of Hogwarts. Hermione had become one of the most successful Healers in Britain. She landed on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's after acquiring 12 N.E.W.T.s. Her best subject in Hogwarts was Charms, not that every other class she took received marks that were much different. Even though she'd applied for the spell damage department, Hermione was called into the other 3 floors as she'd majored in those. This is what kept her so preoccupied.
Harry had been accepted as an auror before he'd even applied to the ministry. No explanation required there. If necessary, he'd really go on hunts for mischievous wizards or witches, but those only happened once every blue moon. Despite the lack of thrills and adventures, Harry for some reason was content with the way things were going. Ginny by the way had earned a spot as an auror in training, coincidentally having the instructor as Harry, so it wasn't all that bad.
After another exhausting day of brewing potions and unbinding spells, Hermione just wanted to go home (A/N: Harry's home, btw) and fall asleep in Harry's arms. It was no surprise that Hermione had fallen for his warm green eyes and ruffled raven hair in their first year of Hogwarts; though the shocking part was that Harry had fallen for Hermione in their second year when he'd almost lost her. His bravery ceased to live up to itself until grad night. Harry asked Hermione out under the stars of the Quidditch field while everyone else partied in the great hall, and elsewhere. After that night, the Daily Prophet had yet to not deliver the love life of The-Boy-Who-Lived to every house in wizarding Britain. Hermione started to receive 10 times as many howlers and prank-owls than she got in fourth year.
But since then, just a few years had slipped by, and Hermione now wore the run Harry had proposed to her in Madame Puddifoot's around a year ago. St. Mungo's had always insisted on intercepting all of Hermione's owls and checking them, just in case they were life threatening; Hermione was a too useful for St. Mungo's to lose.
She looked up at the clock that hung on the wall facing her. It was 5:15pm, and Hermione had stayed longer than necessary.
"Merlin's Beard, finally!" she whispered, relieved. She quickly changed out of her lime-green robes and took a final glance at her gold plated door that she was about to lock. Healer Granger's office was engraved, shining as brightly as the first time she'd seen it.
"See you tomorrow, Cho!" Hermione bid to the welcomewitch.
"Good-day, Hermione. Oh, wait! You've forgotten to get your Daily Prophet this morning." Cho said back.
"Ah, it's okay. Thanks though." said Hermione.
"Erm, I have a feeling that you might want to read it if you're not too busy tonight." replied Cho. Hermione sighed in defeat.
"Alright, I'll read it tonight. Thanks again, Cho." she said. Hermione was going to go to her own home for what felt like… forever, now. She'd always gone to Harry's house everyday before they'd both been piled up with excessive amounts of work. Hermione squished though the thong of people waiting to get off the tube at their designated stops. She didn't live outside of London; she only needed to stop two times before she'd have to push through the crowd again.
Hermione lived in a muggle condo, which she preferred over a house. It was more affordable than a house, and she always felt secure because of its cosiness. Some things just never changed though; her walls gave off a soft glow of yellowish-gold, and the pouffy red couches that sat on a velvet auburn carpet gave off more than a hint of Hermione's Gryffindor-ness that still remained somewhere in her soul.
After a quick shower and dinner, Hermione sat down for what seemed like the first time that month. She'd been so caught up n work that her mind just never stopped to rest. She woke up at 7am, rushed to work and got there at 9am, got home at 5pm, showered, ate, and thought of ways to treat her current and potential patients. If she wasn't at home after work then she'd be at Harry's; it was never a relaxing time besides the mere hours of sleep that she got. This was her normal schedule, unfortunately.
Having no critical patients to think about, Hermione remembered the day's Daily Prophet that Cho had handed to her earlier. She thought of the last time that she'd been advised to look at the paper a few years ago; which was not long after her graduation. Lucius Malfoy was found blasted into pieces in Knockturn Alley. 'Served him right' Hermione thought. She couldn't help but wonder what had happened to his son though. Hermione assumed that Draco would be mentioned of inheriting the whole Malfoy fortune, but no one knew what'd happened to him, and Narcissa Malfoy had taken over the offer.
Hermione lifted the Daily Prophet up to her face. Reading the headline for what felt like the millionth time, it finally sunk in.
"Merlin's bloody beard." escaped as a breath that she wasn't aware of holding.
TBC
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