So. Harry Potter is the Boy Who Lived. Honorable, brave, sincere. Always trying to do what's best. So genuine.
So. Ron Weasely is Harry's best friend. Red-haired, hot-tempered, loyal. Always willing to stand up for what's right. So trustworthy.
So. Hermione Granger is the know-it-all. Clever, quick-witted, and curious. Always working to make it to the top. So dependable.
So. Draco Malfoy is their archenemy. Pureblood, mocking, heartless. Always planning Harry's downfall. So cruel.
This is the world you know. The characters you're familiar with. The personalities you've come to expect. This is everything you could've predicted.
Now…prepare for your world to be…
Rearranged.
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A/N: Some of you may not like the liberties I've taken with rearranging the characters. I'm sorry…but that's the story plot! Just stick with me…I'll give you a good story, promise! ^_^ Read and review, please!
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are owned by J.K. Rowling. I've taken artistic license with their personalities and the plot is my own.
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[1]
Hermione Granger narrowed her eyes. "They're late," she growled, tapping her fingers on the massive oak table impatiently. Seeing her wand laying next to her hand, she snatched it and waved it in the air. "Instantus Apparaten."
Harry Potter and Ron Weasely appeared on top of the table, disheveled and only half-dressed. "'Mione," Harry complained, shooting her an emerald-eyed glare. He slid off the table and finished buttoning his shirt, muttering a spell to conjure up his robe. Ron followed suit, slipping his standard uniform vest over his head then fastening his own robe around his shoulders. Hermione sat back in her leather chair, watching them with a decidedly annoyed look on her face.
"Um," a nervous voice piped up from the other end of the table. Three heads swiveled to stare at the sixteen-year-old boy huddled in his folding chair, his platinum blonde hair falling disorderly around his face in direct contrast to its usual [gelled] perfection.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ron snapped, shoving a hand through his bright red hair and seating himself in the leather chair to Hermione's left.
Draco Malfoy's silver eyes appraised them anxiously. "You really shouldn't use Apparate on Hogwarts grounds, Mione," he said in a small voice. "You know it's against the rules."
Hermione's brown eyes scorched him with her scathing glare. "Keep your mouth shut, Malfoy," she spat, her hand clenching threateningly around her wand. "I could care less about this stupid school's rules." She turned away, ready to ignore his complete existence as she carried on her own business, but then turned back. "And don't call me 'Mione.'"
"Watch your tone, Granger," Harry said mildly, sinking into his own leather seat on Hermione's right. He propped his feet up on the table in front of him and drawled, "You wouldn't want to lose our 'archenemy', would you?"
Biting back a laugh, Hermione raised an eyebrow. "No, we couldn't possibly lose the badass King of Slytherin who plans to make the saintly Harry Potter's life a living hell." She sent a mocking smile down the table to Draco, making it clear what she thought of the "badass King of Slytherin."
"Who gives a bloody fuck?" Ron snarled, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. He glared at Harry, resenting his obvious closeness with Hermione, the leader of the Hogwarts branch of Student Wizards And Witches Against School—or SWAWAS* as it was known among its Hogwarts members. "I presume there was a purpose for calling this emergency meeting?" he asked, giving Hermione a challenging look
"Yes." Hermione straightened, smoothing down the SWAWAS dossier in front of her. She glanced around the table. "Thomas, Finnigan" she said with a smile, "please share with the group what you heard concerning our statuses at Hogwarts. 'Our' being each individual member, not SWAWAS as a whole." She glanced down the Gryffindor side to the two 6th years.
Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were both Gryffindors and seated accordingly—the SWAWAS meeting table was large and square, each side seating one of the four houses at Hogwarts. On the Gryffindor side, directly in the middle and signifying their importance, sat Hermione and her two right (and left) hand men, Harry and Ron. As the table was on the large side, Hermione had cast a projection spell on the room, magnifying each person's voice so that the smallest whisper from the Ravenclaw at the end of the table could be heard by Hermione, on the other side. This also helped discourage any private conversations; members were less keen to talk amongst themselves when they knew their leader could hear every word.
Hermione was rather proud of the way she'd managed to find a room to house these private SWAWAS meetings. She'd discovered the old, abandoned room on the third floor in the North Tower. Though it was no longer off-limits after Fluffy's removal, the third floor remained relatively deserted, due mainly to its ominous darkness. This, Hermione had found out after many hours of studying Harry's Marauder's Map, checking the most often-populated rooms throughout the castle and searching for the deserted areas. She'd been delighted when she'd discovered this room, now known simply as the Meeting room between fellow SWAWAS, had charmed it to fit the thirty-some members, and cast warding spells to prevent non-members from discovering it. It had been the meeting place since then, and everyone fit comfortably.
Seamus proved this as he spun around in his chair, arms flailing but not hitting anyone, when Hermione had called his name. He'd been studying the stone wall behind him, thinking that the décor of the room had left much to be desired. A picture or two wouldn't hurt. He decided it was wise to refrain from commenting with Hermione waiting for his reply.
"Our status—each member's status, that is—is being questioned," he stated, mincing no words. "Our roles and positions are being doubted…Hermione's," he inclined his head in a show of respect, "as Gryffindor's know-it-all bookworm, Weasely as Potter's best friend, Malfoy as the Slytherin rebel, and even Pansy as his beck-and-call whore."
"Well, no wonder," Pansy Parkinson said, crossing her arms indignantly. She glanced at SWAWAS leader. "I'm filing a complaint, Hermione, about having to constantly parade around in half-unbuttoned, hiked-up-to-here clothes in twenty-degree weather. Not only is it frigging freezing, it's bloody degrading!" She gestured at herself, clad in a modest oxford shirt and sweater vest, her skirt falling an inch below her knee. "I'm not that kind of person!"
Flicking a brief look at the Slytherin girl, Hermione nodded. "I see what you mean, Parkinson, but you must remember that it's your role and as much as you may dislike it, we all have an image to uphold. However, if you are truly unhappy with it, you may register the complaint. The Grievance Committee will review it."
Pansy sat back, satisfied. She, however, did cast a disgruntled look at Draco, her expression clearly stating that she wasn't too particularly happy about tagging after him like a puppy, but knew better than to press Hermione on the subject. He stared at the table in response.
"Back to Thomas and Finnigan's report," ordered Hermione briskly. Her eyes narrowed in displeasure. "You all do realize, don't you, that our positions being questioned is one of the worst things that could ever happen to SWAWAS? Our whole mission depends on our ability to uphold our image!"
Harry tapped his fingers listlessly on the tabletop, calling for attention. "Who's doubting?" he asked.
Dean took in the "We'll-take-care-of-them" gleam in his eyes and replied shortly, "A group of Slytherin 7th years."
That got everyone's attention. There was a low murmur of surprise and speculation, each phrase heard clearly by Hermione. However, she only had eyes for one person.
"Malfoy," she drawled, seemingly uncaringly, but the way her hands were clenched in fists gave her away. "This is an interesting turn of events, isn't it? How our King of Slytherin, whose image is one of the most important, as the archenemy of Harry Potter, has allowed his acting to grow slack? To let a group of Slytherins, his own housemates, become suspicious?"
Draco looked her in the eye, knowing she'd just get angrier if he avoided confrontation. "Finnigan said they were also suspicious of Parkinson," he pointed out. "And Potter, Weasely, and even you, Hermione." He quickly ducked his head in the expected nod of respect at her name.
Pansy let out a hiss of anger. Harry stared at him, indifferent. Ron's temper flared and he reached for his wand. A hand on his stopped him.
"You have a point," said Hermione, a slow smile spreading across her face. She removed her hand from Ron's face and sat back in her chair, not saying anything as everyone's face riveted toward her in shock.
"Did you just agree with Malfoy?" Lavender Brown asked, her eyes wide.
"Yes, I did."
Draco's brows shot up, but he kept silent. He was as stunned as anyone else…Hermione usually made it a point not to agree with him, of all people. He was the lowest of low and Hermione only tolerated his presence in SWAWAS because he was necessary as Potter's rival, especially due to his background and his father. He was perfect for the role and she knew it. She couldn't jeopardize SWAWAS mission due to personal loathing, so she put up with him. But putting up with him was a far cry from agreeing with him.
"I'm sure you have your reasons," Ron said through gritted teeth, still seething over Draco's unintentional insult. He'd only been trying to shift the blame a little, he thought guiltily. So she wouldn't direct all her anger at him…again.
Hermione flicked her hair over her shoulder. It was long, brown, and sleekly straight, a direct contrast to how she usually wore it when she played, as Seamus had so eloquently put it, the Gryffindor know-it-all bookworm. Many people who laughed at her hair often wondered why Miss Top Of Her Class couldn't just find a spell to keep it tamed; they never considered that she left it that way because it helped the stereotypes that she was the studious type that didn't care for appearances.
Nothing could be farther from the truth, Draco knew, his eyes running discreetly over Hermione's shiny hair, perfectly unbuttoned halfway white oxford shirt, loose Gryffindor tie draped artfully around her neck, pleated gray-and-black plaid skirt, matching knee socks, and polished black loafers. She knew she looked good and she hated having to hide it under a bookish façade, but now, when she didn't have the strain of a role to play, she let her true colors show. Draco blinked then refocused on what Hermione was saying, hoping no one had noticed him drifting off.
"Each of us is slacking in our roles," Hermione was berating. "I know it's almost Halloween and everyone is exited, but we must not forget that our roles at Hogwarts are vital to the mission. Live your roles, make your personalities come to life, be the person you were assigned to be." She raised an eyebrow. "Just don't come back to the next meeting expecting Potter and Weasely to suddenly be friends." The room tittered. Everyone knew about Harry and Ron's instant dislike and competitiveness with each other.
"Now, here is what we're going to do to take care of those nasty little suspicions those 7th year Slytherins are harboring." A smile tipped her lips up. "Unfortunately, we can't off them, I'm afraid ol' Dumbledore wouldn't stand that, despite being out of character. What we are going to do will not only reinforce our roles, it will be in the spirit of the upcoming holiday." The entire room gave her their captivated attention. She smiled at their anticipation and announced coolly, "We're going to have an inter-house game of Truth or Dare."
"'Mione," Harry exclaimed, his nonchalant attitude finally broken through, "are you serious?" At her nod, he threw an arm around her and kissed her cheek. "You're brilliant!" She flushed a little, which attracted a few curious looks. No one said anything, though. They all knew about Hermione and Harry's relationship—it was the one indulgence Hermione had allowed herself in SWAWAS role-playing; she was still good friends with Harry outside of the Meeting room, though not as close as they really were.
Ron was glaring at their show of affection. "I don't see it," he complained, his jaw tightening.
"Of course you don't," Harry said dismissively.
Draco watched Hermione let him get away with the blatant insult. Apparently, Potter was the only one she would. She was otherwise extremely strict about trading insults in SWAWAS. "Demotes general morale," she explained with a shrug. But Potter, and herself, of course, were obviously the exceptions.
"Potter," Weasely growled warningly.
"Oh calm down, Weasely," Hermione said. She explained, "The inter-house game of Truth or Dare will give Malfoy," she sent Draco a cold look, "a chance to redeem himself among his fellow Slytherins. He'll dare Potter or Weasely or myself something insane or whatever that fits his role. It'll also give anyone suspicious the chance to ask us a particularly probing question, and we'll answer in accordance with our characters, reinforcing our positions."
"Wow," Padma Patil said in admiration. Her twin, seated on a different side of the table, nodded in agreement.
Dean was grinning from ear-to-ear. "You're bloody marvelous, Hermione!"
She smiled graciously. Harry smirked. "No need to state the obvious, Thomas."
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*SWAWAS: pronounced exactly like it's spelled. Swa…was. Gee that was right helpful, wasn't it? ^_^ Sorry, I had a little fun with that.
A/N: Well, there's the beginning. The next chapter will give you a semi-brief history on SWAWAS and its members. The Truth or Dare game will likely take place in Chapter 3 and more plot-twisting-stuff will be added. ^_^ So what're you waiting for? Read on…then review!!