The sun hung in the sky like a disco ball except it didn’t sparkle. Its single beam streamed through the window in Gryffindor tower to illuminate a plain looking girl. The sun symbolised the girl wasn’t as plain as she thought.
I’m plain, thought the girl, running her fingers through her suddenly gorgeous, sleek, shining, straight, radiant hair that was the colour of manuka honey or wood or chocolate or anything else that’s brown. “No boy will ever love me,” the girl sighed, looking down at the letter from Viktor Krum that proclaimed his passionate love for her.
Little did she know Hermonie Granger was going to be proven wrong.
In the great Hall sat a lonely boy, sitting alone. He was alone because nobody understood him. Nobody understood the tortured soul that was behind his arrogant smirk and stormy eyes. Because he was tortured. Nobody knew. He kept it secret. His hidden torture that was of the soul not the body.
He looked up, and for the first time he saw her.
Draco was so emotionally tormented he had never even looked at a girl before. But she changed that. She was stunningly beautifully sexily gorgeously hot with her mahogany chocolate manuka hair flowing down her back. She was wearing a very short gothic black minidress that showed off her curves. She had six inch high heels on but you wouldn’t know because she walked so gracefully. Draco was so stunned by her beauty he didn’t even realise she wasn’t wearing uniform like everybody else. In fact everyone in the hall was so transfixed by her beauty they didn’t realise she wasn’t wearing uniform, even the teachers.
She sat down, by herself. She was alone too. Her only friends had abandoned her to go play Quidditch because they were boys. Her hair hung over her face like a mahogany chocolate manuka curtain because she was sad. She took out her books, because books were her only friends. They understood her, even though they were inanimate objects. She understood them because she was smart and lonely.
She glanced up and saw him, the boy sitting by himself watching her. He had stormy eyes and golden hair and looked like sex on legs but he was obviously sad and alone and hated himself.
They understood each other.
Draco watched her.
Hermoine watched him.
Malfoy, she realised.
Mudblood, he realised.
And in that moment six years of hatred disappeared. As if in a trance they walked forward. They were the only people in the world. Except for the other six billion. But they don’t matter.
“Malfoy,” Hermonie breathed.
“Granger,” Malfoy whispered.
“I’ve never felt this way before,” Herimone continued in breathless tones.
“Nor have I,” Draco returned in his sexy seductive whisper.
“But we can’t be together!” Hermione cried dramatically, a single tear running slowly down her cheek.
“Why not?” Draco asked, stricken.
“Because we’re enemies!” Hermione wailed, pressing a hand to her forehead.
“We don’t have to be!” Draco cried.
“Really?” Hemione asked, the tear suddenly gone as her face glowed like the stars and the moon and the sun and everything in the sky.
“Really,” Draco whispered, pulling her closer.
“I love you,” Hermione declared. “I’ve been in your arms approximately seven seconds and I shall die if I leave. I loved you from the moment I gazed upon your stormy eyes for the first time. From that moment, my studies, my friends and fighting Voldemort don’t matter anymore. Let us find a broom closet and make passionate love for the rest of the day!”
“Of course!” Draco cried. “Hogwarts is magic, so we will find a broom closet around the first corner we come to. We must keep this relationship secret, so your friends don’t yell at me! It would be disastrous if they were to yell at me!”
They ran around the corner and found a broom cupboard. Inside, they spoke to each other in beautiful Shakespearean sonnets as they tore each other’s clothes off.
Suddenly, the door was pulled open. Hermione and Draco were terrified in case it was Harry or Ron who would yell at them, but instead it was Professor McGonagall.
“Hermione!” she cried frantically, not caring that two model students (because Draco was such a good student) were going at it on school grounds. “There has been a disaster! You must put on this timeturner and go back to the time of the Marauders! Yes, an entire decade has been renamed because of the secret name of a group of four boys!”
“Oh no!” cried Hermione, and suddenly she was clothed again because Hogwarts is magic.
“Don’t leave me!” Draco cried despairingly, reaching out as she faded away in a hopelessly romantic gesture before tripping over the pants that were still around his ankles.
Hermione landed in a heap on the stone cold floor of Hogwarts, the trauma of her time travel making her forget who, where and when she was. Dazed, she looked up to see the sexiest boy she’d ever laid eyes on walking towards her looking concerned. He had shaggy brown hair which symbolised he was a dog animagus. His eyes sparkled like the star he was named after. He was a walking talking metaphor and he was bending down to gaze tenderly into Hermione’s confused eyes.
Suddenly, she realised where she was. Seeing Sirius Sex-On-Legs had reminded her of Draco Sex-On-Legs who she had left behind in her own time, and she promptly burst into anguished tears.
“What’s wrong?” Sirius asked.
“I can’t tell you!” she wailed.
“Because I’m on a top secret mission from the future!” Hermione cried, before realising she wasn’t supposed to say anything.
Sirius fell over in shock. She gazed at him in concern and touched his hand. Their contact gave him an electric shock that symbolises passion and he woke up.
“You should meet my friends,” he said with a happy grin, getting up and taking her into the Room of Requirement which is where they always held their wild parties.
Suddenly, Sirius was knocked sideways by a very angry girl with flame red hair and sparkling emerald eyes.
“I hate you, James Potter!” she screamed at someone behind her, brushing tears of despair and tormented love from her eyes as she ran away.
“I know you love me!” a boy who looked very much like Harry Potter called confidently and arrogantly after her. “You’ll realise it soon!”
“Mate,” Sirius said, and that was all it took for James Potter to drop his arrogant swaggering bravado act and burst into anguished tears.
“She’ll never love me!” James cried.
“Yes she will,” Sirius said. “Hey mate, this is Hermione Granger. I never asked her name, but I knew it by intuition.”
“There’s something different about you,” James said thoughtfully.
“Maybe it’s because she’s new,” Peter Pettigrew suggested hopefully.
“Shut up Peter, nobody cares,” Sirius said cruelly, and kicked him.
“That’s not nice,” Hermione said.
“He’s a git,” James said, and Hermoine accepted this as a valid reason, nodding thoughtfully.
“I just wanted to be your friend!” Peter whimpered pathetically, before scurrying out the door with his nose twitching.
“Now,” Sirius continued, sitting Hermoien on a nearby couch. “Because we’ve just met you, I need to tell you all the secrets of our group that we never tell anyone. We are the Marauders. We’re famous at Hogwarts and we have whole armies of girls following us. We’re all secret Animagi and have nicknames based on what animals we become. James is a stag, so we call him Prongs. I’m a dog, so my name’s Padfoot. That scum that just ran away isn’t our friend at all, but we taught him how to be an Animagus and let him into our secret group just because. He turns into a rat and we call him Wormtail. And finally,” Sirius said dramatically, “Our mate Remus here is a werewolf. We don’t ever tell anyone, it’s such a massive secret, but you’re so hot I had to.”
“It’s okay,” Remus said calmly, reasonably, sensibly and rationally. “I want her to know.”
“Oh,” Hermione said, nodding and trying to look surprised.
“There’s more,” Sirius continued. “James here is madly in love with Lily Evans, but she hates him. They share a dorm as Head Boy and Head Girl, did you know that? For sexual tension, you know,” he added, seeing her confused face. “Remus doesn’t want a girl at all because he’s too scared of hurting her—” Here Remus offered Hemoirne a small, tender smile—“Peter doesn’t exist anymore, and I…well. I have all these girls after me, but…it’s not enough. I’m looking for a meaningful relationship. Someone who will make me give up my playboy ways.” Sirius sighed. “But none of the Hogwarts girls are right. Not Angel, Rainbow, Destiny, Ruby, Emerald, Sapphire, Crystal, Kellie, Kylie, Kaylie, Guinevere, Ophelia, Desdemona, Juliet, Cordelia, Cassiopeia, Aphrodite, Ariadne, Calypso, Cassandra, Electra, Hero, Medusa, Persephone, Selena, Venus, Alpha Centauri, Betelgeuse or Adipose 3. None of them have filled the void in my heart.”
Hemoiny was filled with compassion for this lonely boy and kissed him passionately. When, after many minutes of writhing around and finding themselves in each other’s embrace, they pulled apart to see a shocked Remus staring at them.
“How could you?” he cried dramatically. Before they had time to react, a full moon shone through the window.
“Oh no!” Sirius yelled. “Hermione, get out of here!”
“I’m not leaving you!” she cried defiantly.
With a snarl and a growl Remus transformed into an unrecogniseable monster. Sirius grabbed Hemino’s hand and they ran through the castle, passing Lily and Severus Snape snogging in a broom cupboard, Dumbledore walking sedately towards Remus to reason with him, an army of American girls named after constellations with breaking hearts, Lucius Malfoy kicking a Hogwarts house elf, Slughorn hosting a tea party in the Great Hall and a small first-year called Rita Skeeter yelling she had friends at the Daily Prophet who would hear about this.
“You have to go back to your own time!” Sirius yelled, and before she could protest she found herself spinning forward through time.
Unknown to her, she had killed a butterly while in the 1960s and as a consequence Voldemort had taken over the entire world, Harry Potter was dead and it was up to her and her alone to vanquish him.
But that’s another story.
A/N:I ask only that you not judge my writing ability on this. Oh, and please review :)
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