Title: Romanticism (which incidentally was an 18th century art movement that focused more on the concept of emotions in art than representation or resemblance. I guess it's quite fitting then isn't it... ;p)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Summary: Genre: (bit of) crack, humour, h/c, love-y
Warning: None... unless you dislike music :p
A/N: This has been in my head for a while so I thought I'd put it down in (digital) writing.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters belong to J.K. Rowling. (unfortunately)

...

...

Princesse de la rue soit la bienvenue dans mon coeur brisé

(Princess of the street, you are welcome in my broken heart)

...

CHAPTER ONE

...

...

It was a typical day in the confines of Hogwarts castle as students hurried along the corridors, dawdled in their dormitories, sat at their house tables munching away on toast and chatting to their friends; nothing was wrong, not a single thing had gone wrong. Yet. But, as every student knew, this was Hogwarts and nothing could ever be perfectly calm, collected and organised; not with a castle full of young, hormonal witches and wizards. Which is where the problem actually starts.

Now, as most of you should rightly know, there are four tables in the Great Hall; one for each House, with the houses for Gryffindor and Hufflepuff on either side of the entrance from the front of the castle. Next to the wall beside Hufflepuff is that fantastically prejudice house Slytherin whilst Ravenclaw's table is on Gryffindor's side beside the opposite wall. All-in-all, from right to left the tables went; Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor and then Ravenclaw. Each of these houses pride themselves on having students with different, and varied, traits and abilities; Ravenclaw's were renowned for their intelligence and sharp wit; Hufflepuff's for their diligence and kindness; Gryffindor's for their bravery, though some might call it stupidity with good intentions, and chivalry; and Slytherin's for their cunning, sly behaviour and leadership skills. Oh, and mostly Pure-blood status; mustn't forget that when speaking of good o' Slytherin.

Sitting at the Gryffindor table, about half-way up, there were three students; who most would have thought the most unlikely of friends, eating their breakfasts whilst discussing various things about such important matters that they fell silent whenever anyone stopped or sat near to them. Obviously they were talking about something very, very important; so important even that they daren't discuss their shared secret around others even if said 'others' were from their own house. One Hermione Granger was sat, leaning forward slightly so that her voice wouldn't carry in the large, cavernous hall, whispering frantically to a one Harry Potter; who was whispering back just as frantically. The only one who was silent in their debate was Ronald Weasley; or Ron since he did so hate the fact that his mother still called him 'Ronald', but that was mostly due to the fact that Ron was scoffing down a rather large English-style breakfast and obviously couldn't spare a moment to speak.

"Harry! I don't think this is a good idea! How do you know we won't get caught? The Slytherin's would love to get their hands on you; and I don't think they'd be much left if they did!" Hermione exclaimed in a quiet whisper, her hands moving slightly as though she was trying to stop them waving about. She shook her head furiously at Harry and declared. "Well, if you're going to do this Harry then you can count me out! I'm not going to aid and abet anyone in breaking into the Slytherin Common-Room!"

As Harry was about to point out that Hermione had already aided and abetted him and Ron in breaking into the Slytherin's Common-Room in their second year, Hermione stood up defiantly and said loudly. "I'm going to be late for class!"

Feeling both frustrated and shocked Harry and Ron watched in silence as Hermione stormed out of the Great Hall, taking a left and heading towards her first class of the day; correction, their first class of the day, Transfiguration. Sighing in annoyance Harry ran a hand through his hair and looked expectantly at Ron who just shrugged and stuffed another piece of toast in his mouth making Harry grimace and look away; how Ron could eat so much food was lost on Harry, who had never needed much more than a piece of toast in order to feel full in the morning.

Ever since term had started in September, Harry had been feeling increasingly annoyed at the blasé behaviour from the teacher's about the Slytherin's; most notably one Draco Malfoy, and had been trying to figure out a way of sneaking into the Slytherin Common-Room and having a look around. He knew that at least five of the Slytherin's that he was so happily acquainted with; and by happy he meant the ones that kept of hissing death threats at him as he passed them in the corridors on the way to class, had direct relations to the Death Eater's who had messed up the Wizarding World Cup in the Summer back before their fourth year.

"Come on Ron, we'd best get going or McGonagall'll have our heads... again." Harry said, sighing as he rose from his seat and hoisted his bag up onto his shoulder. He watched as Ron groaned and tried to say something around the mouthful of food he was still chewing his way through, and as Ron swallowed and stood up Harry began walking leaving Ron with no choice to but grab his own bag and follow hurriedly. They reached McGonagall's class with only moments to spare, before the Professor herself arrived in all her sweeping glory with her robes billowing out around her, and dive into the only available seats left; right next to Malfoy and one of his lackey's who Harry thought was Goyle. Malfoy sneered at them and opened his mouth to speak when McGonagall cut across him. "Today you will be learning how to make an object transfigure into another person's worst nightmare; this is much the same a Boggart only the effects will be short-term and only work on a single, particular person. Some of you may learn of this later in your education if you choose to pursue Defense against the Dark Arts since this is very much related to it. I expect you all to behave accordingly and not terrorise one another with this." McGonagall looked about the class, her eyes seemingly falling on both Harry and Malfoy; which Harry honestly couldn't fathom out why, it wasn't like he was going to terrorise Malfoy... well, maybe. "Now, are there any questions before I begin?"

Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Hermione's hand shoot up and couldn't help but smile at the sight; trust Hermione to have a question. He also saw how McGonagall's lips twitched upwards at the sight; evidently she was thinking the same thing as Harry. "Yes Miss Granger."

"Surely this spell is for more advanced students Professor; I've read somewhere that it's very hard to perform and only the seventh years seem to be able to do it decently enough. Why are we being taught it?" Hermione asked, her voice echoing around the room and Malfoy sniggered at her; only the mudblood would read a book about some stupid spell that they hadn't even had to learn yet. She took being a geek to a whole new level.

"Because Miss Granger, Professor Dumbledore and I have agreed that it would be prudent to teach students from fourth year and upwards this spell due to the state of the Wizarding world outside of Hogwarts; indeed the Headmaster has also spoken to other members of staff about adding extra spell and potions to your curriculum so that you may be more prepared for the real world sooner rather than later." McGonagall finished as she raised her eyes so that she took in the entire class which now looked solemn and morbid; Dumbledore was right though, these students needed to be taught how to fight in a war because she was quite sure one would be occurring soon. Especially if Albus was correct; and he was rarely wrong, just inaccurate.

"Oh." Hermione breathed out softly, now she understood; they were going to be taught how to fight better, spells that they would need to defeat Death Eaters, followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named; Harry was going to be so annoyed that she still wouldn't use His real name, but Hermione wasn't Harry or Professor Dumbledore so it was harder for her to say Vol- Voldermort without wanting to flinch.

"Alright, now, this spell is quite complex so you will need to listen closely and pronounce each syllable perfectly in order for it to work." McGonagall said briskly, snapping everyone out of their thoughts and focusing their attention on her. "Please draw-out your wands and with the objects that have been placed on your desks, point your wand at them and repeat after me; incohare profundus vereor."

A chorus of a dozen voices echoed around the room as each student attempted to turn their object into their partner's nightmare; the ironic thing was that their partners weren't aware that the other was trying to produce their worst nightmare which made things a lot more interesting when their pitiful attempts finally yielded some results.

"Incohare profundus-" Harry was cut off by the sound of a sharp scream which was emanating from near the front of the class and as he stood up he heard another scream from his right; his head whipped around and he saw, to his utter dismay, that there was now a deformed, mutant-looking rat snapping at Lavender Brown's wand as she tried to keep it away from her.

Harry barely heard the sound of McGonagall shouting a spell out loud as he sprinted over and grabbed Lavender by the arm and pulled her away from the rat-thing, just as McGonagall's spell hit the rat and turned it back into a harmless-looking quill. The room was silent again except for the sound of Lavender sobbing as she clung to Harry, who just looked immensely uncomfortable at the whole situation, and he watched over the top of Lavender's head as McGonagall said firmly. "Mr Potter, please take Miss Brown to the infirmary and have Madame Pomfrey give her a calming draft; then return to class."

Without a moment's hesitation Harry gently dragged the still sobbing Lavender out of the class and off in the direction of the infirmary, leaving a silent and slightly worried class in his wake. McGonagall sighed and took a deep breath before saying. "Now, why don't we try that one again and perhaps this time we can keep the hysterics to a minimum?"

...

...

To Be Continued...

Yes, yes, I know; there's no actual singing in this chapter but it sort of sets the scene... kinda :/

Anyway! If you liked this just let me know and I'll shove the next one up ASAP; i.e. give me a good review and I'll give you the next chapter. :D

Anyway, hope you liked it.

Kasey