Hermione Aurora Malfoy came into the world on the 19th of September, 1979 with a silver spoon in her mouth and her father wrapped around her chubby little finger.
With raven black curls and warm brown eyes, she was known throughout her childhood as a sweetheart; a fine and respectable pure blood child who took after her beautiful mother's attitude and grace. She was doted on by mother and father alike, wanting for nothing, and believing the credence that the Malfoys were the Premiere Pureblood family of the Wizarding World.
She turned her nose up at sports and dueling as all good ladies do, and took to reading and learning like a fish took to water. Never was she seen without some type of tome or scroll in her hands. She knew both families' histories by the time she was five.
She wore extravagant gowns and dresses that her mother's friends gifted to her, and always had the latest fashion in her wardrobe. Her hair was always braided professionally and held up by silver pins. She turned her nose up in disdain at anything that was a season out of style. She turned her nose up a lot, in fact, as it was a fact that the Malfoys were better than the next six pure blooded houses combined, and it wouldnt do for a Malfoy to not remind the world this.
But despite her spoiling, Hermione Aurora Malfoy had a kind heart, a heart that bled for her father's house elf when he would command it to punish itself, only for the command to be rescinded when his daughter begged him to. A heart that had driven her to tears when she saw a squib servant put down one of her father's peacocks when it had been ravaged by a fox; a heart that moved her to befriend the poor pudgy girl having a horrible time at her mother's Yule Formal because none of the boys wanted to dance with her.
Yes, Hermione Aurora Malfoy had a good heart, and it was this heart that was currently hidden behind a sneer of disapproval as Hermione looked upon Harry Potter.
Harry Potter, in Hermione's opinion, was the exact opposite of what a pureblood should be. Ill-fitting, dingy clothes, a rat's nest for hair, and ill-mannered enough to rebuke her friendship when she had offered it to him almost four years ago. He should have counted himself lucky and thanked her for even attempting to extend that courtesy to him.
But no; like his father before him, Harry decided to mingle with commoners, mudbloods and blood-traitors that were as uncouth as Hermione expected them to be. She couldn't understand how a Pureblood like Ronald Weasley could be so disrespectful and rude, nor could she fathom why the likes of Weasley and Potter would ever befriend a Mudblood know-it-all like Draco Granger. The platinum blond-haired boy had been a thorn in her side since first year. He thought himself better than her, despite the filth that permeated his blood; always a step behind her in their class rankings, he remained pompous and full of himself anytime he beat her to the right answer. He was a mudblood, but she wouldn't call him that again, she had more tact and manners than that and still berated herself for letting it slip during a confrontation between the two in their second year
She shook her head of these thoughts as she once again focused on Potter, his back to her as he stood in front of the Library, hesitating at the threshold.
"It's called a doorway, Potter," she said primly, taking concealed delight in the way the Gryffindork jumped at her voice. "You walk through it to get to a different room."
"I know how doorways work." He turned, fixing her with a glare.
"Then either use it or move. I have an essay to write and it won't get done with you blocking the library entrance."
Harry blushed and quickly walked away from the library. Hermione let a small smirk grace her lips as she entered the library and made her way to her usual table, where Daphne Greengrass was waiting with several books open already.
The Greengrass heiress was one of the few female Slytherins Hermione could tolerate, coming from good stock the younger girl was a fine example of what an heiress should be. Greengrass was not like that cow Pansy who chose to flaunt her cheap gaudy jewelry her parents bought in Knockturn Alley like they were the Queen's jewels. Daphne understood what truly mattered, and worked diligently to show proper pureblood etiquette.
Her only fault was that she was associated with Tracey Davis, yet another Muggleborn, but Hermione can overlook this one fault as Davis was a fine Slytherin and was nowhere near as annoying as Granger was.
She at least strived to label her a muggleborn, instead of a mudblood.
"Good evening, Daphne." Hermione greeted as she sat across from the girl and began pulling her books out of her bag, waving her wand discreetly under the table to cast a muffliato.
"Hermione," Daphne returned, giving her friend a small, rare smile before returning to her work. "Come to work on your potions essay?"
Hermione nodded slightly. "Uncle Severus gave me an Acceptable on my last assignment and mother hasn't let me live it down."
"An Acceptable? You? Why, however will the Malfoys survive this? Perfection is all you know!" She said in mock horror.
Hermione smiled, glad for the relative privacy of their table in the back of the library. It wasn't that they couldn't joke in public, but etiquette would dictate that it is unbecoming of a lady to be this familiar in a public setting.
Thankfully Uncle Severus taught her some of his more useful spells.
"Perfection is all we know," Hermione said haughtily, "Uncle Severus simply made a mistake."
"I'm sure he did," Daphne said with a subtle roll of the eyes.
"Let's move on to a fresh topic," Hermione drawled, "freeze anyone lately, Ice Queen?"
Daphne's pale cheeks suddenly bloomed a bright red. Despite three years passing, she had still been unable to live down her nickname, a well earned nickname from when she had accidentally froze poor Theodore Nott and Vincent Crabbe during Charms - despite the fact that they were supposed to be doing levitation charms.
Millicent had used it offhandedly and to Daphne's embarrassment - and Hermione's delight - the name had stuck and was befitting of a girl whose glare could freeze anyone in place.
"One of these days you're going to forget about that."
"On that day I will be dead and you'll probably be in Azkaban for accessory to murder."
"Please, like I would be that sloppy."
The two girls giggled quietly behind their hands as they began working on their essays.
Harry walked into the Gryffindor common room, glaring ahead as he went towards Ron and Draco, who were playing chess in the corner.
"Why are you so mad?" Draco asked without looking up.
"I'm not mad," he grumbled, sitting down on the couch.
"So it was Malfoy." Draco said, making Ron look up with a dirty look.
"What were you doing around that swot?" Ron grumbled.
"Was going to stop by the library, got lost in thought at the entrance," he muttered.
"And Malfoy came by and made you look stupid," Draco drawled, "Tale as old as time."
"Best to just stay away from her, mate," Ron said, "She's no good."
Harry leaned back in his seat. He could agree that he should stay away from the Malfoy Heiress, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Hermione Malfoy than meets the eye.
The prim and proper pureblood heiress had made herself known back when they were first years. The way she spoke about Hagrid with barely veiled venom had initially warded him off from the admittedly cute girl; and then her barely hidden distaste and loathing for Ron stopped him from accepting her offer of friendship. From then on she had barely kept things civil between them. Her bookish and know-it-all air of superiority and the fact that she loathed Draco for the simple fact of his blood made avoiding her the most reasonable solution.
Harry also saw a side of her that others didn't get to see. How she always thanked the eagle owl that delivered her packages and gave it her bacon, how she fiercely protected a first year Ravenclaw from bullies. He also remembered her giving that weird little elf Dobby a hug at the end of their second year after the whole fiasco with the chamber had ended.
Yes, there were things that made Harry wary of approaching the young heiress, but there were many other things that gave him a burning desire to get closer to her.
"Perhaps we should just go get some lunch," Draco suggested, moving his knight and stating 'king me' to Ron before standing and moving to the entrance as Ron stared dumbfounded at the board. "Aren't the delegations from the other schools showing up today?"
"Yeah, sometime this afternoon," Harry said, following Draco out, Ron close behind, "what do you think they're like?"
The three friends soon began discussing the other two schools excitedly, with Ron throwing out that Victor Krum might be showing up.
"He's still school age!"
"And there's no guarantee that he'll be here," Draco drawled, "for all we know he goes to Ilvermorny."
"But this would be right up his alley! Everlasting glory!" Ron said with shining eyes.
"You're welcome to it," Harry said, "personally, I'm just looking forward to watching it."
"Sure." Ron said with an eye roll as they entered the great hall.
"Really, I'm just looking forward to a quiet year."
"Well, enough talk. Let's eat!"
The Next Night
Hermione looked to the Goblet of Fire as the rest of the school filled in.
"I wonder who'll be chosen from Hogwarts," Daphne wondered quietly at her side. "Perhaps Warrington."
Hermione gave a quiet unladylike snort. "The Goblet is an impartial judge, so it'll know that Cassius is nothing but a brute...perhaps Cedric Diggory."
Daphne hid a small chuckle behind her hand. "Just because you're smitten with him doesn't mean he's champion material."
Hermione blushed softly. "Just because I fancy him doesn't mean he's unworthy."
A hush fell over the two as Dumbledore began to speak and Hermione listened dutifully as names began to shoot out of the goblet.
"The champion for Durmstrang is...VICTOR KRUM!"
A cheer from the Durmstrangs further down the line made Hermione roll her eyes. Of course it was Krum. He seemed to be the only one qualified.
"The champion for Beauxbaton is...FLEUR DELACOUR!"
Hermione politely clapped for the blonde woman, she had been pleasant to talk to in Charms.
"And the champion for Hogwarts is...CEDRIC DIGGORY!"
This time, a huge cheer came up from the Hufflepuffs, Hermione nudged Daphne discreetly as the heiress snorted.
"There we have it! Three champions to represent their schools! But only one will be able to obtain the glory of...THE TRIWIZARD CUP!"
Again the students cheered, stopping only when the Goblet turned red once more and spat yet another name out.
Hermione narrowed her eyes as the Headmaster caught the piece of paper and said, in a very surprised voice, "Harry Potter?"
Instantly she looked to the Gryffindor table, where Potter was slowly sitting back down, shaking his head slightly.
"Interesting." Hermione muttered.
"What's interesting?" Daphne asked her, sending a glare towards the now-walking Potter.
"Suppose you're a boy...and you just successfully cheated your way into the Triwizard tournament. How do you react?" Hermione asked, making Daphne look at her in thought.
"I would be bragging…swaggering up to Dumbledore and proclaiming myself a king…" she looked back to Harry. "Definitely wouldn't be walking like that…you don't think he did this?"
"Potter is many things. He's uncouth, rude and has a disgusting choice of friends...but he's no cheat. Someone put him in this, and I intend to find out who."
Harry quickly escaped the common room, his head spinning from everything that had happened to him that night. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed and fall into as deep a sleep as he could.
Draco opened the door for him just as he reached it. "Don't listen to him at all," Draco warned him as they both went into the dorm.
"What are you talking about?" Harry asked as he went towards his bed, only to stop when he saw Ron sitting on his own bed, glaring at him.
"How'd you do it?" He asked as Harry tried to keep his temper under control. "Fine, then. I'd think you'd at least tell your best friend."
"One of your best friends," Ron amended as Harry glared at him.
"I didn't put my name in that cup, Ron!" Harry said angrily.
"Then how'd your name come out?!" Ron challenged as he jumped to his feet. Draco groaned as Harry likewise stood.
"I don't know! All I do know is I didn't do it, why would I want to be in a tournament meant for seventeen-year-olds? You're being stupid, Ron." He shook his head and began going back to his bed.
"Yeah, that's me: Harry Potter's stupid friend," Ron grumbled.
Harry clenched his fists and made his way to the entrance.
"Going to join your fans?" Ron snarled at Harry's retreating figure.
"Piss off." Harry snapped back as he thundered down the stairs, through the still full common room and out of the entrance as fast as he could.
Draco Granger was a pompous know-it-all. He knew this and wore the badge with honor.
His brains had saved Harry and Ron on more than one occasion, from the challenges to get to the stone to the Chamber of Secrets, and even the fiasco that was Harry's Godfather. His wit and will always brought them out on top, and by now it was established that he was the brains of the operation. Sure, Harry was smart, but he was also unsure of himself and held on to old bad habits; and Ron…
Draco glanced over to where Ron Weasley was currently sitting, glaring at the doorway that Harry had stormed out of. The hot-headed idiot thought Harry a cheat, and had made it quite clear that he wouldn't stand for it.
"You know he's not like that," Draco drawled, leaning back against his bedpost.
Ron only grunted, still glaring at the doorway.
"He would've never put his name in," he continued, "He hates attention, and hates his-"
"Will you quit sticking up for him?!" Ron snapped, "Why do you always take his side?"
Draco felt his cheeks burn as he stood up. "When have there ever been sides?" He demanded to know. "I thought we were all friends, but if you're too bullheaded to think-" he stopped as Ron shot to his feet, towering over him by a good couple of inches, making him blush ever so slightly.
"So I'm stupid, is that it?" Rom growled at him
"You're doing a good show in it, that's for sure," Draco drawled, keeping himself as composed as he could, "what with driving one of your best friends off due to your jealousy."
"Jealousy? I'm not jealous of that attention-seeking prat!"
"Well, then, I guess you'll be able to support him like a good friend," Draco countered.
"He cheated his way into the tournament!" Ron roared.
"And when did he do that?" Draco snapped, his calm demeanor changing in an instant. "When would he have put his name in and how? Look at the facts, Ronald!"
"I don't need to! It's all very clear-"
Ron looked down at Draco in complete shock, his hand slowly coming up to the cheek the shorter boy had just slapped.
"You're a complete arse, Ronald Weasley," Draco said coldly as he stormed to the stairs, "I'm going to go find our friend. Whether you pull your head out of your arse is up to you."
Harry walked briskly down the dark corridors, no particular place in mind as he climbed the stairs to the fourth floor corridor. As he rounded the corner a dainty hand shot out of one of the classrooms and hauled him into it.
Harry felt his wand fly out of his hand, clattering against the cold stone floor as his attacker's wand was pressed into his chest. He narrowed his eyes at the short assailant, slowly backing up to the wall as she slowly advanced on him.
"Do you not listen in class, Potter?" Hermione Malfoy asked innocently, her wand trained at his heart. "Constant vigilance is a lesson to be learned well."
"I'm not in the mood for your witty banter right now, Malfoy," Harry growled. "What do you want?"
"I want answers," she said as she slowly moved to one of the desks, sitting down with her legs crossed, "and you're the only one who can answer them."
"Can't you just ask Daddy to tell you?" He snarked, "I'm sure if he throws enough money at it-ow!" He jumped as a well placed stinging hex hit his knee, making him stumble to the ground, glaring at the Slytherin.
"No need to be snippy with me, Potter," she hissed, twirling her wand in her hand, "just answer my questions and I'll let you go on your merry, moronic way."
Harry growled and bit back his retort. "What do you want to know?"
Hermione smiled, "There, see how much easier it is to simply do as I say?" She stood and moved to where his wand had fallen, picking it up and studying it before looking at him. "Why would someone put your name in the Goblet of Fire?"
Harry blinked. "You don't think I did it?"
"Of course not. You're nowhere near talented enough to be able to confound a relic such as the Goblet, and the next six people I can think of who can do it wouldn't because they're all teachers. So, why would someone put your name in the Goblet? Is it a test?"
Harry sighed, feeling an odd sense of relief at her believing that he hadn't cheated his way into the tournament. "I honestly don't know," he said softly. "Moody reckons someone's trying to do me in. Professor Dumbledore is of the same mind...everyone else just thinks I'm a cheat."
"Well then, it seems you're not the only empty headed twit in this castle." Hermione said with a roll of her eyes, smirking when Harry glared at her. "Anyone who knows you knows that you're the typical Gryffindor, so honorable and above cheating. Oh, you'll bend the rules to have some fun like you did last year, but you'd never cheat."
Harry slowly stood up, wincing at the soreness in his knee. "Glad there's one person who believes me," he muttered.
"I believe the facts, Potter," Hermione said flatly, "and the facts show that you wouldn't even dream of trying to cheat your way into a tournament you have no hope of winning, especially since you wouldn't be able to showboat like you do in Quidditch."
"I do not showboat!" Harry objected hotly.
"Of course you do! All that flare and twirl anytime you're on a broom is completely unnecessary!" she snapped at him.
Harry shook his head angrily. "Look, can you just give me my wand back so I can go? I'm tired, irritated and ready for sleep."
"And why would I just...hand over your wand, Potter?" She questioned, twirling his wand with a small smirk. "By all rights, this wand can technically be seen as mine, now. I may just keep a hold of it as replacement wands are hard to come by. In fact-" she stopped as suddenly Harry was right in front of her, pushing her back against the wall as his slim fingers plucked his wand out of her hand, his other hand came up and blocked her attempt to slap him, pinning the hand to the wall above her while his regained wand was pointed at her throat.
"I'm. Done. Playing your game," he said coldly.
"Back away, Potter." She hissed back, pressing her own wand into his gut.
The two stood off against each other for a few moments, neither wanting to admit defeat as they glared into each other's eyes.
Finally, Harry slowly stepped back, his wand still raised as he began moving towards the door. "Stay away from me, Malfoy," he said as he opened the door with his foot.
"With pleasure, Potter," she sneered, her own wand lowered but ready. She didn't allow herself to relax until several moments after the door closed, letting out a slightly flustered breath. She sat down heavily in a nearby chair; she hadn't expected him to rush her like that. Had he been a true enemy - or just a slightly angrier - he could have easily overpowered her while she had been gloating. She slowly brought her hand up to her throat where his wand had been pressed, knowing it would be slightly bruised the next day. With unsteady hands she summoned her pocket mirror from her bag hidden behind the desk.
"Perhaps I do need to write to Daddy," she mumbled as she looked into the mirror, her cheeks flushed slightly, "and Mother as well…"
This story was edited by my friend Roanoke, she's one of the best that i've ever had the pleasure of working with and will work with competitive flexible pricing, if you are interested you can contact her at Brightlunastar Gmail . com
the next chapter should be up as soon as it's finished and edited, hopefully that'll be soon.