HARRY POTTER and the VSW...

Posted by Doctor Szalinski (209.240.205.60) on January 27, 2005 at 20:44:25:

This is an "interactive" story. I'll start it, you continue it...

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"I HATE HOGWARTS! hate it hate it hate it!" The words repeated themselves in Malfoy's mind like a chant as he marched to the library to get the book for the essay he was made to write as a part of his detention. Why couldn't his parent's have sent him to a better school? What's the use of having connections in the Ministry Of magic if you don't take advantage of them?

"Damn that scar-faced Potter, he started it." Why can't that kid take a joke? And just what makes him so special, anyway? It's not like he actively FOUGHT Voldemort. He just got lucky, that's all. The Dark Lord's spell backfired for some unexplained reason. Why should that make HIM such a hero? And what really made it bad was the way Dumble-dork lets him get away with everything! HOW that misguided old man had managed to stay on as Headmaster neither he nor his father could figure out. God knows how many times they have tried to get him replaced with someone more competent to run the misguided institution.

By the time Draco reached the library doors, the causes of his misery had expanded to include not only Potter, but his rag-tag friends Weasley, Grainger and practically the entire misguided hero worshipping school. Why, oh WHY couldn't he have been sent somewhere where the important stuff was taught? The only worthwhile classes he had was The disgustingly watered down Defence Against The Dark Arts (he LOVED that one when Moody taught it, HE at least actually touched upon what they were supposed to be defending themselves against, even if he didn't teach the dark spells themselves). And Potions, mainly because Professor Snape never missed an opportunity to bring the Potter Gang down to their proper level.

Draco entered the library which was deserted, as was most of Hogwarts during Christmas break. Even the librarian was nowhere to be seen, which was unusual. She was so picky about "her" library you couldn't touch anything without attracting her scrutinizing stare. "She must be rearranging the back room again." Malfoy thought. One of her precious books was probably out of place so, of course, the entire lot HAS to be checked. He went into the back room, where the book he needed was kept. Draco knew exactly what he needed, and where it was. so all he had to do was get it, sign it out and leave. He didn't want to be seen hanging around HERE. It was bad enough the entire school knew he had detention.

The back room, too, was deserted. The only sign it had been used at all was an overly large book laying open on one of the desks. "Damn, someone else's here" He thought. He did NOT want to be seen here. As he passed the desk, he saw a red robe laying sloppily on the chair. "Gryffindor. Figures. Slobs!" Then Draco stopped. Did it just move? He looked again, It twitched again. He looked around the room, but saw no one, no suppressed giggle met his straining ears. He desperately wanted to pick the robe up, but one couldn't be too sure of anything in a school full of juvenile witches and wizards.

The robe moved again, like a mouse was scurrying underneath it. Cautiously, Draco reached for the robe, fully expecting it to explode, or have something jump out at him. Quickly he snatched it and lifted it up, jumping back to protect himself just in case, but nothing happened. He looked around again, still expecting some prankster to start making fun of his logical precautions. Those stupid Weasly twins may have left the school, but their influence was still everywhere, Their joke shop had become immensely popular, especially with the third and fourth year students, who were finally allowed access to the nearby town of Hogsmeade. But there was no one. He looked back at the robe, just as something seemed to fall out. Quickly, he threw it aside just as whatever-it-was scampered into the trousers.

"Gotcha!" Malfoy whispered fiercely as he grabbed the trousers and bundled them up so whatever-it-was couldn't escape. He could feel it squirming around inside, and he cautiously reached his hand in to get it, still expecting something to happen. When his fingers met something soft and warm, he grabbed it and pulled it out, dropping the trousers. "Well, would you look at that!" he gaped. It wasn't a mouse at all, but a person! He brought it close so he could see who the unfortunate student was. Immediately, an incredibly broad grin crossed his face. Grainger! That prissy self righteous mudblood had accidentally shrunk herself! Draco gleefully held the struggling girl in his hand, all sorts of sadistic thoughts running through his head. He still hadn't forgiven her for bloodying his nose three years back. Right in front of Crabbe and Goyle too!

Well, he wouldn't have to worry about her anymore. What serendipity! He could dispose of her and make it look like a complete accident. "let's see," he muttered gleefully "just what should I do with you?" He ignored her squeaky pleas, not that he could understand them anyway. She was too small, no more than a few inches high. "Stop squirming, bitch. You wouldn't want me to drop you, would you?" Malfoy asked, teasingly. "I might accidentally step on you, and I don't want to have to spend the rest of the day cleaning mud-blood off my shoes."

Hermione stopped her squirming and glared at her captor. "That's better" he whispered. "Now lets see, I could feed you to that overstuffed cat or yours..." He threatened "Heck, you're small enough I could swallow you!" and with that Draco grabbed her ankles and, dangling her by them, brought the now terrified Hermione towards his face, tipping his head back and making a show of opening his mouth wide as he did.

Hermione was screaming at the top of her diminutive lungs, hoping, praying that someone might come in and hear her. She dared not struggle, she might fall into Malfoy's gaping maw, which was now directly beneath her. She could see all the way to his throat, which, at her size, actually was large enough to take her down. Whole! She was so scared she didn't even make an effort to cover herself. Her arms were outspread to catch herself if he decided to drop her in. Draco stopped, as for the first time he really saw what he had. This, he realised, was not the 11 year old brat that had pranced so egotistically into Hogwarts six years ago. As if she actually belonged here! She had blossomed!. And was not too bad looking at that. Well, for a mudblood, anyway. Draco had a sudden change of plans.

"No. I got a better idea," He told her as he tipped his head forward and dangled the hapless figure before him. "Why should I simply dispose of my troubles when I can seriously humiliate them in the process?" He sneered lustily. and Hermione's eyes widened in horror. "Yeah, I could do anything I want with you, and no one would ever be the wiser." As if it were possible, Draco's sneer got even more threatening as his thought's became even more lurid. Wrapping his fingers around the terrified Hermione, he stuffed her into his shirt pocket and tightly buttoned it up. Her pitiful "No!" was the last thing he heard as the thick fabric of his winter robe effectively muffled her screams.

The sensation of her warm, soft body struggling against his chest was giving Malfoy al kinds of pleasant thoughts as he carefully replaced the trousers and robe on the chair the way he had found them. "There." he whispered, as much for her "benefit" as his own. "Now, when someone finds them, they'll reason that you were trying out yet another spell that was far to advanced for you and this time it backfired. With tragic results" He concluded with mock sorrow. "And you know what the real beauty of it is? It's the God-honest truth!" he had struggle to keep himself from laughing hysterically. He absolutely dared not let anybody know he was here now! He would have to come back later for the book he needed, after they had found Grainger's remains and come to the "logical" conclusion. Of course, no one would know what really happened to her. it would go down as just another one of Hogwart's many legends.

Draco carefully peered out into the main library. Good. it was still deserted. There was a rustling crash from the back room, and a stifled curse from the librarian. A bunch of books must have fallen. Draco's luck couldn't have been better. He quietly crept out into the hall, which was also deserted. Quickly resuming his usual air-of-superiority, he made his way to the Slytherin dorm. For the first time this weekend he was glad that almost everyone, save for Crabbe, Goyle, and a few others were gone for the holiday. He could easily keep his treasure a secret. Even if one of the others did discover it, They all hated Grainger enough that they could easily be persuaded (with the proper "incentive") to keep it a secret.

Draco's sneer broadened. Heck, he really didn't have to dispose of her at all! He could keep her as long as he wanted to. A perfect little pet to channel his frustrations out on. MUCH better than tormenting the family's former house elf. "Yet another one of Potter's many unpunished crimes..." he muttered. Well, The Grainger half-witch would just have to pay for all of them, too. Damn! He should have made note of the book she got the spell from. he could have used it....

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OK, The stage has been set, the players have been cast.

Hemione's fate is now in your hands...