Tag Archives: youngadult

Love Is The Darkest Art 12

Love Is The Darkest Art

A Dramione fanfic serial

Scene 16

Hermione was irritated and everyone knew it. Though no one was aware she’d had restless sleep the night before, they just assumed she was ticked off at Professor Umbridge’s new teaching technique. That was no surprise, as everyone thought the new curriculum was taking steps backward instead of forwards. In fact not long ago Hermione had suggested that Harry teach the students defense against the dark arts. After all, he survived last year’s attack from Voldemort that had taken Cedric Diggory’s life. Harry hadn’t given an answer but still Hermione was hopeful. Things couldn’t go on like this. Umbridge was destroying the school from within. And she was possibly destroying Hermione in a more personal way as well.

The Gryffindor girl sat in her seat, half listening to Umbridge, who often glanced her way with a smug look on her face. Hermione tried to ignore her haughty glares, but it was as if she knew something that Hermione didn’t. And why wasn’t Draco in class? He’d never told her what their meeting was about. Never said what the woman wanted. Just that there was nothing to worry about or some such. But what if it were something? Was that why Draco was absent? Where was her love?

Hermione stopped herself. Her love? Did I just think of Draco as my love, she asked herself. Did a couple kisses, or even making out, mean I am in love now? Just what constituted love anyway? Before she had time to consider this question, Umbridge called upon her. She’d only been half listening, but Hermione knew the answer anyway. Still, instead of her usual excitement of knowing it, she gave the answer in a quiet, almost beaten voice. To this, Dolores Umbridge looked very pleased.

Hermione looked down at her textbook. The open page was sparse in its text and she found herself wanting to write Draco’s name there. Perhaps it would have made her feel better to see it on paper, to trace her fingers over the letters the way she had traced his cheek in the tent the day before. For a moment she thought she caught a whiff of his earthy scent and she looked to the classroom door, hopeful that he had finally arrived to class. But it wasn’t him. It was Neville Longbottom, who apparently was also tardy for class. He looked a bit disheveled, which was nothing out of the ordinary. His hair wasn’t always the neatest, but this time it was more than that. He looked like he’d been in a scuffle of sorts.

“Mr. Longbottom,” Dolores said. “Do I need to give you detention, too?” She cast a glance toward Harry and smiled cruelly. It was well known he was still having to spend afternoons under her pubishment rather than on the Quidditch field.

“No..no mam,” Neville stuttered, worried he would be joining Potter after hours.

“Then perhaps you would like to present me with your tardy excuse?”

She held out her hand as if waiting for him to slip a doctor’s excuse or something into her open palm. When he didn’t she smiled, but it wasn’t friendly.

“I will not tolerate tardiness in my class. If you are late again…oh wait, I see there’s another student missing.” She looked around the room. “It seems Mr Malfoy is not here.”
She looked at Hermione and smirked. “Oh my, what a shame. And until recently he was a good student too.” She looked back at Neville. “Find your seat and sit in it,” she snarled. “And do not be late again…ever.”

Longbottom quickly found his seat. The classroom was silent. Umbridge took in this fearful reverence and ate it up. Taking another sharp glance at Hermione, she finally said with a sneer, “Well, I do hope Draco is alright…”

Scene 17:

After class, Hermione went looking for Draco, but she couldn’t find him. However, she heard the rumors. One said he’d been at school earlier but his father dragged him out by his collar. Another said he’d gotten into a fight with Neville over the practicality of allowing muggles in Hogwarts. And there were other rumors too. Professor Trelawney had been put on Probation. Potions master Snape had been admonished in front of his class by Umbridge earlier that morning. And that an educational decree had been posted forbidding boys and girls from being closer than 8 inches from each other.

All this is Umbridge , Hermione thought. And where’s Draco. What has she done to him? She wasn’t sure about the rumors. Maybe he did fight with Neville. Longbottom had been late and appeared a bit more rattled than usual. And why was she so rattled about not seeing Draco since yesterday? What was happening to her? Already she was having trouble concentrating on… Wait, there it went again. That earthy Sandalwood scent that reminded her of Draco. She looked around in the hallway in which she stood. Students were hurrying to classes. Prefects, of which she was one, moved among everyone making sure no one was doing anything against school rules. She thought maybe it was Neville again carrying that scent but she didn’t see him anywhere either. Where was it coming from?

She saw Harry and Ron talking to a Gryffindor first year, apparently giving him directions to his class. Luna Lovegood was talking to herself as usual, while Crabbe and Goyle, minus Draco, picked on a Hufflepuff boy who looked nearly in tears. If anyone knew where Draco was it would be them. She started towards them, half of her ready to grill them about Malfoy, the other half upset they were picking on someone twice as small as them.

She was halfway towards them and they were yet to notice. She opened her mouth to shout in their direction when something whipped over her head. A dark cloth covered her entire frame and spun her around to disorient her. She fell into a tight grip as she struggled beneath the confines of the pitch darkness. She opened her mouth to scream but a hand quickly covered her lips.

“Shhhh,” a low voice commanded. “Don’t scream or they’ll know we’re here.”

She looked towards the voice and saw a boy. Pale skin. White blonde hair. Mischievous smile.

“Draco,” she nearly shouted. She could have leapt into his arms and she almost did.

“Shhh, stand still or they’ll see us.”

She looked around them. Students were still moving through the halls, socializing between classes. But despite all the activity no one seemed to notice them. Not even Crabbe and Goyle who were mere feet away. And it was then she remembered the cloth that had been thrown over her head and wrapped around her.

“An invisibility cloak!” she whispered.

He smiled. “With a repelling charm. Once in use it compels anyone outside of it to avoid walking into it.”

She laughed a little under her breath. “Wow, where did you. ..:

Before she could finish the question he covered her mouth with his and pulled her so close she could feel his beating heart against her chest. The kiss was short, just enough to silence her in a wondrous way.

“I always wanted to kiss you in front of everyone,” he whispered.

Hermione smiled sadly as if about to cry. A tear formed in the corner of her eye.

“Don’t you dare,” Draco admonished quietly. He kissed the tear and as it touched his bottom lip, he put his hand against her breast. It wasn’t a sexual gesture but one of completeness. “Your heartbeat sings to me,” he said. “It calls to my soul. I cannot bear the thought of…” He hesitated. “Of…not having this.” He hugged her and she lay her head on his shoulder letting the tears come.

“My parents want me to stay away from you. But I can’t. I must see you. Even if it’s in an invisibility cloak. You have been my secret love for a long time. You can be that longer still.”

“Can I?” she sobbed, realizing the implications of their new relationship. To forever hide how she feels. To keep her innermost thoughts and longings secret. To only see Draco under the cover of darkness and invisibilty. “How long can we last like this?” she asked.

“For as long as it takes,” he breathed.

Love Is The Darkest Art 11

Love Is The Darkest Art

A Dramione fanfic serial

Scene 15:

The trip to Wiltshire had taken him longer than expected. It wasn’t that he was fashionably late. No, he was extremely late. By at least twenty minutes. Not a long period of time to most, but to his father, a chasm of disrespect and possibly dishonor.

Draco stood at the head of the lane leading up to Malfoy Manor. The estate of the esteemed and wealthy family had existed for ten centuries and for Draco that meant he was expected to help carry it for ten more. Nothing was more important to the Malfoy line than family. Well, that and prestige.

As he started up the drive toward the porch of the large mansion, he wondered what excuse to use, knowing full well no explanation would be acceptable for being late for dinner. It’s wasn’t often they ate as a family, seeing he was housed at Hogwarts most of the year, but on rare occasions they would request his presence. This was one of those times.

As he reached the first porch step, the front door opened. On instinct, Draco ducked behind a row of bushes. A short, squat figure stepped out on the porch. He should have known by the unusual car that had been parked out front. He should have realized that anyone who drove such a thing couldn’t be trusted. The horrid peacock colored VW Beetle resembled its owner in both fashion sense and size. Mrs Umbridge would have thought that a compliment, though it really wasn’t.

She looked back at Lucius Malfoy, who did not escort her any further than the door. “I did not wish to be one to bear such news,” she was saying. “However, if things are to proceed on its present course through the ministry’s wishes, we need everyone to step up and toe the line.” With that she tried to look into the elder Malfoy’s eyes, but she was way too short to reach that height, even on tiptoe. “You know what is at stake. And what is required of your family,” she added with an air of superiority.

Lucius looked like he could wrap his long fingers around her throat at this reminder. “I am well aware of what I need to do, Dolores Jane,” he said with an apparent stab at her familiarity. “The Ministry can always depend on my support. And that of my entire family.”

She smiled condescendingly and said nothing more. Instead, she turned her back to him and started down the steps. He didn’t wait for her to reach bottom before he turned on his booted heels and returned to the depths of the manor.

Watching Umbridge get in her Volkswagon and drive away, Draco came out of his hiding place. He looked up to the house, realizing his father had left the door wide open. He knew then Lucius had been aware of his presence, and so there was nothing left to do but go inside and face the music.

Mounting the steps with a sense of dread, he entered the hall and closed the door behind him. The lock made a resounding echo, and though that sound could be frightening bouncing off the walls of the ancient manor, it still wasn’t as terrifying as the inescapable cellar in the lower depths of the place. Draco certainly appreciated that difference as he walked down the hall to the dining room.

In the great hall his parents waited. Narcissa, his mother, scowled in his direction as he approached the table. “Draco, ” she said, her voice low. “We are disappointed in you. You know how much we value….”

“You will not see the mudblood again,” Lucius interrupted. If his mother was trying to approach things diplomatically, then his father was the supreme commander.

Draco opened his mouth to speak but his father silenced him with a stern look. “You will not taint centuries of pure blood with that of a filthy muggle.”

“It’s not like that…”

“Then tell us what it’s like,” Narcissa replied. “Professor Umbridge saw the two of you. Kissing.”

“I know, mother. But it was just a little….”

“It doesnt matter what it was,” Lucius spoke angrily. “Outside of your studies you will not see her. I mean really Draco, Hermione Granger? Out of all the girls you could take an interest in and you have the boldest disrespect to pick her?! Not only a mudblood, but she is best friends with…with…Potter.”

That last word he spoke as if it were venom he were trying to spit out of his mouth and to Draco it was much the same. For years the name of Harry Potter had been the excruciating thorn in his side. Always Potter. Special Potter. The boy who freaking lived. And Draco …he had been made to feel as if he were nothing. No use to anyone. Worthless next to Harry. Even next to Weasley. Until Hermione. His mind stopped swirling madly. A calm came over him. I am worth something to someone, he thought. To Hermione I am somebody. Does she love me? She hasnt said. But she wants to be with me. To hold me, kiss me, love…

“The muggle doesn’t love you, Draco,” his mother interjected as if she could see the wheels turning in his head. “She doesn’t even want you. Not really.” Narcissa stood and Draco saw his father smile in approval. “She is using you to destroy us. Our friends. Our livelihood. Our position and power depends on you. And she is trying to distract you.”

Lucius looked at him grimly. “You will not unmake everything we have achieved. We have worked tirelessly to restore our position, and now sides are being made and you will not associate with those who would undermine our efforts. You will cease this…whatever it is…with the Granger girl. Am I understood?”

Draco was silent. His head was truly spinning now. Hermione? Using me? Impossible. She cares, I know she does. She…

Lucius banged his fist on the table. “AM I UNDERSTOOD!!”

Draco snapped to attention. “Yes sir!” he blurted out.

“What was that?”

“Yes sir.”

“Yes sir, what?”

“I will not see her anymore ”

“See who?” his father pushed. He was going to make him say it. To make an oath of words.

“Hermione Granger.”

Both his mother and father smiled. Draco forced one himself, but already he was thinking of her again.

Love Is The Darkest Art 10

(Note: My apologies this post is so short. This part was originally intended to have two different scenes, but for some silly writer reason I thought each scene stood better on their own, so I split it up. Anyway, hope you enjoy and I’ll post the next scene within a couple hours.)

Love Is The Darkest Art

A Dramione fanfic serial

Scene 14:

Hermione Granger sat on the edge of her bed. She tossed another sock on the mattress. Her project of making socks for the house elves could usually distract her from the usual stresses of life at Hogwarts. This evening though, it wasn’t working. Despite the fact she had convinced Ron and Harry not to report Draco’s attack, they both seemed to be suspicious about the incident. All the way back to Hogwarts, they had asked her questions about it. And all the way, she had lied. It grieved her to be dishonest. To keep a secret from her truest friends was just as hurtful to her spirit than if she had flunked the whole school year. And yet she couldn’t come clean. No one would understand. Not Harry. Definitely not Ron. And the girls in her room were no depository for her secrets either. They sat on beds immersed in their own worlds. Lavender Brown. Parvati Patil. She couldn’t confide in them her truest, deepest feelings. Only Draco could hold her secrets. Just as he held her close to himself.

She closed her eyes. Oh Draco, my Draco. Are you really mine? I already feel I am yours. Please do not break my heart. Just love me. I need to see you. Only you can soothe me, make me feel perfect. I’ll give you my dreams. Give me yours.

These tumult of thoughts swirled so largely in her head she didn’t realize that Lavender had gotten up and approached her. “You okay, Hermione?”

Looking up, Hermione put on her best smile. “Never better.” When Lavender didn’t move from where she stood, she knew the girl had something else on her mind. “Why do you ask?”

“Um….Have you ever crushed on somebody?”

The question threw her off, and for a brief second Hermione wondered if Lavender already knew her secret.

“I suppose,” she answered. “I mean, like I crushed on Krum for awhile, i guess.”

“Oh yeah, i can totally see that. Viktor is so dreamy.”

Hermioned nodded. “Yeah he is, but…”

Before she could finish, Lavender interrupted with a but of her own. “But have you ever crushed on someone you shouldn’t have?”

Hermione hoped the surprise didn’t show on her face. She stammered a bit before she could get her answer out. “I…I don’t know. Who am I not supposed to crush on?”

Lavender laughed nervously. “Oh, not you, silly. I’m talking about me.”

“Ohhh,” Hermione replied. “You.” Then it dawned on her. Lavender is crushing on someone. Impossible! “So who is it?”

The other girl blushed and turned to look back at Parvati. Then she lowered her voice. “I can’t really say because ..” She nodded her head in Patil’s direction.

Why would Lavender be concerned about her roommate overhearing? The question had just entered her head, when the answer came to her in a typical Hermione a-ha moment. Parvati Patil was the twin sister of Padma, who had been the date of Ron Weasley at last year’s Yule Ball.

Hermione looked at Lavender with raised eyebrows. “Ron?”

Lavender registereda look of surprise, then shock, then horror. “R..R..Ron! No! Oh, no way,” she cried out, alternating looks at both Hermione and Parvati. Then she bolted back to her own bed and immediately immersed herself in her books, completely dismissing both roommates as if she’d never said a word.

Hermione looked at Parvati, who shrugged and returned to her own studies as well. Hermione shook her head thinking about the possibility of a romance between Ron and Lavender. Like her roommate said, she thought no way, too. And then she thought of herself and Draco. If she had mentioned the romance she herself was immersed in, both girls would have looked at her so incredulous you would have thought a flobberworm was crawling out her nose. She imagined Ron and Harry’s reaction would be ten times worse.

She reached down and picked up the sock she’d been working on for her house elf project. Part of her berated her for even thinking of Draco, and urged her to get back to work. Another part of her, the part that cried out desperately inside, wanted nothing more than to be in his arms again, feeling his hand on her face, lips pressed perfectly to her own.

Love Is The Darkest Art 7

Love Is The Darkest Art

A Dramione Fan Fic Serial

Scene 10

Draco Malloy stood in Umbridge’s office. He hadn’t been offered a seat and so he didn’t take one. Instead he stood in front of the woman’s desk as she made a show of rifling through papers and making him wait. Draco felt all this was show. She knew what she wanted to discuss, even if he didn’t, and she was demonstrating her own power and importance over his school life. Normally, faced with this situation, Draco would have been worried, trying to guess what he had done and how quickly it would get to his father, but this time he knew exactly what he’d been caught at. Sucking face with a muggle born. Though to him it had meant more than that, Lucius Malloy would not see it that way. His emotionally detached demeanor would demand stern punishment for Draco, and possibly expulsion for Hermione.

“How is your father?” Umbridge suddenly asked, as if sensing his very thoughts.

“Um…he’s doing well,” Draco answered nervously.

“You may call me Professor Umbridge,” she suggested firmly.

“Professor Umbridge,” he repeated.

She smiled and it reminded him of a crocodile ready to swallow its meal whole. “I admire your father. He’s a good man.” She waited a beat then continued. “But he stands on shaky ground with others who associate with…the ministry.” Then she grinned, as if she was delighting in the next part. “It would not do well for his position if it were known his son were cavorting with…well, mudbloods. And especially in so intimate a fashion.”

Draco didn’t respond. He stood there waiting because he knew there was more to come. It wasn’t enough that Umbridge knew about he and Hermione. Now it was time to use that against him.

“Do you understand me, Draco?”

“I’m not sure, Professor Umbridge. ”

She sighed and it came out almost like a chuckle. “Things are changing at Howarts. And they are going to be changing more. You are going to want to be on the right side of things. Not only for yourself, and your school, but your father as well.”

Draco was beginning to understand. Umbridge wanted something from him. And whatever it was, his family’s future were going to depend on his actions in the next few minutes.

“Do you know why I am here?”

Draco shook his head.

“I am here because the old way of things are unacceptable. The teaching ineffective. It’s a wonder anyone learns anything here. But there are some who don’t want change and would wish to undermine the ministry’s role in education. For that reason, I will need an extra set of eyes, to spy, I mean see, into places I am unable to go as a Professor.”

“You want me to spy for the ministry?”

“For me,” she corrected, then sighed. “Not spy really. Just in your new friendships, and other relationships, keep your eyes wide open. If you hear or see anything which attempts to keep or restore the old order so to speak, you come tell me. You hear anything of dissent, rebellion, or disregard for my…excuse me, the ministry’s…wishes, I want to know. Immediately.”

Draco thought for a moment, taking it all in. She was saying a lot, and yet there were still things she wasn’t saying at all. She didn’t need to really. The message was clear. Spy for Umbridge or his whole family would pay the price. She’d sell his father out to The Ministry, possibly even make up charges to do so. She’d tell Lucius about his son and the mudblood. Hell, she’d tell everyone. Both he and Hermione would face the fire from their peers, professors, and school regulations.

“Now Draco,” Umbridge sneared. “Do we have an understanding?”

He turned his head, trying to glance out the window. He had to know there was an easier world out there, where he could breath the open air and the scent of Granger, rather than the stifling, demanding office of Dolores Umbridge.

“Draco Malfoy? Do we…”

“Yes, we do,” he quickly answered. “You can count on me ” He looked at her now. “Just leave her alone.”

She smiled triumphant. “Perhaps it is YOU who should be leaving her alone.”

Draco didn’t reply. He knew this wasn’t a suggestion. Nor even an order. Umbridge needed him to be close to Hermione. She needed information about her and her friends. Draco didn’t care about that though. He just wanted to see Granger again. To breathe her hair, touch her skin, feel her lips melting onto his like Bernie Bott’s best flavored ice cream.

“You are dismissed, Malfoy,” Umbridge said, bringing him out of his wandering thoughts and back to the present.

“Of course, Professor,” he answered and turned to go.

“One more thing,” she said, causing him to hesitate at the door. “Not a word of our arrangement to anyone. Or word of your father’s…should I say, thefts…could be discovered by The Ministry.”

He nodded and wrapped his hand around the doorknob, wishing it were her neck he was twisting instead of the handle.

Scene 11:

“What’s wrong with you?”

Hermione was startled out of her reverie. She was in the Gryffindor common room, her head buried in her books. Yet she hadn’t been studying. She had been staring between the words, lost in the empty spaces and thinking of the blond haired boy who made her heart skip beats with his kiss.

“Excuse me?” She looked up at Ron.

“You’ve been too quiet today. You sick?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Thought so,” Ron agreed. “I can always tell.”

Hermione wondered to herself what else he could tell. Was there a look, a faraway gaze, that gave away the fact she wasn’t focused on her studies? Did she have a slytherin mark on her cheek where Draco had touched her?

“I’m sorry, Ron. I know I’m not much fun today.”

He smiled reassuringly. “Oh, you’ll snap out of it. Hey, I was going to try and talk Harry into helping me with my Quidditch, now that I’m on the team.”

“Yeah I heard that. Congratulations, Ron.”

“Thanks. I hope Harry isn’t too mad about it.”

“Why would he be mad?”

“Well, you know, ever since he has after hours detention with Umbridge he doesnt make it to practice, and so….”

At the mention of Umbridge she went pale and found it hard to breathe. “Excuse me, Ron, I need some air, ” she blurted out, gathered up her books and fled the room.

Ron watched after her, thinking he’d never understand girls and their sudden mood swings. He especially didn’t get Hermione these days when she kept running off like there was a Slytherin on her tail.

Hermione probably would have smiled at Ron’s analogy if she’d known it, but as it was she was too busy trying to flee the tightness in her chest. The fear that both she and Draco were at the end of things just as they’d begun. Part of her tried to tell her perhaps that was best, but this other half of her cried in desperation for his affections. Oh, if Umbridge just hadn’t seen them. If they’d only been more careful. She made a promise to herself from now on to take things more seriously. To make Draco her greatest secret. But in doing so, would that make him her deepest love? Only her tears held the truth, and so she tried to fight them back. But as she ran outside and the air hit her face, they came forth, streaking down her cheeks, until she collided with her desire beyond the doorway.

She fell into Draco’s arms and he caught her just as her legs threatened to collapse. He held her to his chest and kissed the top of her head. Every negative thought was whisked away in an instant, replaced by the wondrous feeling of being one again.

“Don’t let me go,” she sobbed againt him.

“I must,” she thought she heard him whisper, but then he was scooping her off her feet and carrying her down the steps…

Love Is The Darkest Art 4

Love Is The Darkest Art

A Dramione Fan Fic Serial

Scene 5:

Hermione smiled at the memory. Here in the library, back in the present, enfolded in Draco’s arms, she had hoped for this. Ever since the yule ball, she had fantasized he would assert himself again. She didn’t understand her attraction. Perhaps Draco being the only one to lose himself and behave completely different at the sight of her had something to do with it. She knew her attraction was fairly new. Before the Ball, she hadn’t thought of him in any pleasant way. And yet now, her lips were pressed against his, while her heart beat out a rhythm she couldn’t keep up with. Butterflies in her stomach flew in all directions with the parting of her lips upon his. Now this was a real kiss. But what did it mean? After all, this was Malfoy. No one would understand. She couldnt tell her friends or even allow his friends to know what was transpiring within her. Maybe she could talk to a professor about these newfound emotions. But before she could dwell on it, she felt Draco’s hand low on her back. It pulled her closer and she sank into his embrace as if she’d craved this kind of attention forever.

There had been no interruption for the kiss. They had lingered upon each other’s mouth for just minutes, but when they parted it felt like hours had passed. Draco looked at her, and for a second she thought he’d smile, but he didn’t.

“Hermione, I…” he whispered. “I don’t…” He looked around them as if someone might see. “I should go.”

She was confused and her look told him so. “Draco, what is…” Then it occurred to her. He was ashamed he’d kissed her. He was now wishing he hadn’t. Or at least that’s what her mind was trying to tell her.

“If we get caught…” he began.

Her disappointment and hurt feelings began to show. “I understand…’ she said quietly.

“No you don’t,” he replied, and then as if he read her confused mind, “This is no trick. No regret. No teasing… well, perhaps it is a little bit of teasing.”

And then as if to bring the point home, he pulled her close once more, and nuzzled his mouth against her neck. She felt the tender kiss on her soft skin and she tilted her head away from his, allowing his kiss to roam up into her hair and ear, where he softly whispered, “Forgive me.”

Despite the pleasantness of their growing intimacy, her mind was suddenly alert. “For what,” she asked in a trembling voice.

” For everything every mean thing I did to you. It was to cover up for…this. To hide my feelings. My wants.”

“What do you want,” she dared to ask.

“This moment to last,” he murmured and clutched her to him as if someone would suddenly tear them apart.

Hermione was losing herself in his embrace. If she didn’t know better she would have thought he hexed her again, this time with amorous feelings. She knew they couldn’t stay here in the library forever, wrapped up in each other, but still just give me one minute longer her mind begged.

The minute was not wasted as this time it was her lips that sought out his own. If their kiss had an intended end, it was a long time coming.

“Everyone knows I wouldn’t spend this much time in the library studying,” he eventually said.

This made her laugh, and she realized not only was this their first real kissing, but also their first joy. She’d never shared a laugh or any other mirthful moment with the slytherin bad boy, and yet here it was. Had everything changed, and would it change more?

She looked in his eyes. “And everyone knows we should be enemies, not…”

She let it hang unsaid in the air, as if to finish the statement would make it so, would bring that uncontrollable, all consuming word to life. And if she were afraid of that, Draco apparently wasn’t.

“Lovers,” he finished.

Scene 6:

In class she couldn’t concentrate. Hermione berated herself for not being able to keep things in focus, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the library. And Draco. Kissing him had been nothing like she’d imagined. Not that she had spent much time imagining such things. But now here in class she couldn’t think of anything she normally would. Making socks for house elves. Nope. Her best friends Ron and Harry. Nope. Studying for her herbology quiz. Nope. Draco Malfoy. Yes indeed!

“Miss Granger, do you know the answer,” Prof. McGonagall asked.

Hermione suddenly sat up straight from her daydream. “Um, what? Professor?”

McGonagall frowned. This wasn’t like her pupil. “The answer to the question,” she answered. “Transfiguration class, Granger. Please attend in mind as well as in body .”

The rest of the class giggled. Hermione turned red. “Yes, professor.”

McGonagall turned her attention to her other students. “Now then, does anyone else know the answer?”

Hermione glanced around. A few had their hands raised half heartedly. But she wasn’t paying attention to them. She was concentrating on a student in the corner who was silently mouthing words in her direction. Draco. He gave her a look of slight exasperation and mouthed the words again, but she couldn’t follow. He was doing them too fast. When the professor turned to him he suddenly quit and acted like he was buried in his textbook. Once she looked elsewhere, he attempted his message to Hermione again.

She squinted her eyes and made a small gesture to show she couldn’t understand what he was trying to tell her.

“Miss Granger!”

“Yes, Professor,” she nearly shouted, turning away from Draco and looking to McGonagall.
She hoped no one saw her and Malfoy interacting. But she was almost certain the professor had.

“I’ll speak to you after class, Miss Granger.”

Now Hermione truly hung her head. This was a move beyond embarassment. This was shame. She always paid attention in class. So what was wrong with her?

As if providing her own answer she dared a secretive glance at Draco. He smirked, and she had to wonder if he had been mouthing anything at all. For a moment he seemed like the old Draco trying to get her in trouble. She made a resolution in her head not to allow it to happen again. No boy was worth the distraction, and certainly not Malfoy.

For a second she almost stuck her tongue out at him, as if they were little first years again, and he nothing more than a brat pulling pigtails for fun. But no, he pulled something else today. The strings of her heart. And right now it seemed as if he had tied them in a knot.

Vampire Boys Of Summer (revamped) Ep. 85 (last chapter!)

Vampire Boys Of Summer

85: Home Is Where The Haru Is

We rounded the corner in the neighborhood, and there was my house, right next door to the one Haru and his “uncles” had moved into, and Ryo’s across the street, Mrs Winston’s actually. It was a nice little arrangement. I could see that now, with my house protected in several directions from any enemy vampires that might try to take my life. Everything was peaceful now, but if what they said was true, this wasn’t over. Another attempt to build an army of vampires and take over Chelsea Valley was inevitable, but hopefully we’d have a respite. It still wasn’t clear why Haru’s dad, if he was in fact the master responsible for all this, wanted to make this little town headquarters for a vampire takeover, but all thoughts of that disappeared with the person sitting on my front porch.

I saw her right away, and though things had been pretty strained between us since I became a teenager, it was so wonderful to see Mom again. I was out of the car before it even stopped. My legs carried me swiftly across the yard, limping and all. Mother herself was jumping from the porch to run towards me. In the movies, you see this big reunion scene, where all is well, everything forgiven, and all parties involved are laughing, crying, and clutching each other like there’s no tomorrow. Well…that’s exactly the way it was. Mother wrapped her arms around me and I allowed myself not to be annoyed with it, but instead reveled in the fact that I was loved and missed by the one who had brought me into this world.

“I have so much to tell you,” she whispered in my ear. For a moment, I wondered if she was going to say there were vampires in Chelsea Valley or that dad had been right all along. But she didn’t. Instead she spoke softly against my cheek. “I love you so much.”

I smiled. This was not something I often heard from her. But I took it gladly into my heart. “I love you too, mom.”

We hugged a little longer, and then out of the blue, mom asked, “What’s wrong with Angela?”

I turned around to see Ryo standing in the yard holding Angela in his arms. She was still sleeping, her head lolled against his chest. “Um, she had a long night,” I said. “She’s just…you know, tired…”

She laughed. “Yeah, I’d say. And who’s the gorgeous boy?”

“Yeah, that’s Ryo. He lives across the street now.”

“With Mrs. Winston?”

“Nephew,” I replied.


To my relief, Haru had gotten out of the car and was now walking towards us. He smiled at Mother. “Mrs. Williams,” he said. “I’m so sorry to hear of your loss.” He held out his hand.

She took it and nodded graciously. “Thank you. And please thank your uncles for me again, for their hospitality and generous spirit.”

Haru raised an eyebrow. I guess this didn’t sound like the uncles he knew.

“For offering to pay for Jefferson’s funeral expenses,” she explained.

“Oh yes, Of course,” Haru replied.

I myself was in shock. Not over the offer of help, but in the fact it was the first time in years I’d heard mom call dad by his given name. I realized that I too, for some strange reason, had delegated him to just dad over the years. This made me sad because he had been much more than that. He had been my friend. But Chelsea Valley was not only missing a man the town barely knew. There were others forever gone. We’d lost a teacher or two, a guidance counselor, Students I’d gone to school with. And all for what?

Haru grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “I need to head over to the house,” he said. “Check on Tomoko and Kaito. You want to come?”


“Sure, you go ahead. Now that I know you’re home, I’m going to go get me a shower. I can rest easy now.”

I hugged her. “We’ll get through all this, Mom. We have each other. We’re together. That’s what matters.”

Mother smiled. “Sometimes Nora, You’re more adult than I am.”

“Oh, mom…”

Haru looked over at Ryo, who had joined us while I was hugging mom. “You taking her home?” He asked him.

Ryo looked down at Angela in his arms. “Not yet.”

“I’ll call her mom and tell her she’s with me,” I offered.


He nodded to us both and headed across the yard. As he stepped into the street, Angela woke up. From where we stood I could still hear her voice. “Ryo?”


“Am I dreaming?”

He grinned. It was that teasing bad boy smirk of old. “No, Doll. I am.”

He kissed her forehead and she peered up at him with half opened eyes. “It was a dream,” she reasoned. “I…dreamt you saved me.”

“Wrong again, sweetheart. You saved me.”

And then he kissed her for real. Softly on the lips. She closed her eyes again. This time not to sleep, but in pleasure of his kiss.

“Come on, peeping tom,” Haru said and gently tugged me from the scene.

We walked over to the car. Luhan and Chi were still seated inside. Haru leaned down at the passenger window where Luhan now sat. “You guys alright?” Haru asked. Chi nodded wearily. I could tell she was exhausted.

“Yes, we are fine,” Luhan agreed.”But we will need to talk soon.” He sighed and looked past Haru to me. “Nora Williams, You are every bit worth the fight.” Then he winked and it was back to old Luhan again. “If Haru ever breaks your heart…”

“I won’t,” my boyfriend replied quickly.

“But if he should…” Luhan blew me a kiss.

“Luhan…” Chi said impatiently.

“Okay, okay…got to go,” he laughed. “See you kiddies around.”

We watched them drive away. I turned to Haru and looked at him with adoring eyes. Since his arrival things had changed so much. He had come sweeping into my life like a whirlwind. I’d lost so much in the past few days, but had gained the type of boy I’d always dreamed about. And while Luhan may be king of the flirts, and Ryo Mr. Competitive bad boy, I knew that come what may, I could handle anything, face down any evil, as long as I had the vampire boys of summer at my side.

“Remember the thought I sent you earlier,” I asked Haru.


I looked at him with a teasing grin. “Race you for it!”

I took off across the yard towards his house. I looked back just in time to hear Haru yell out, “Hey, no fair!” And playfully chase after me.

Yes, we were going to be just fine…

The End Of Season One

Vampire Boys Of Summer (Re-vamped)

“Vampire Boys Of Summer” 2018 Paul D Aronson. All Rights Reserved.

Ghost Boy Blues 10

Out in the hall we stand on shaky feet. Though much of the vertigo feeling has gone away, this host body is weak. Perhaps it is my presence that drains the energy, the fact that two should are now sharing a bodily apartment. For now we are roommates trying to get along until one moves out. Eventually, one will dominate the other. I cant imagine both minds swirling around in this flesh, bumping into each other and wondering who’s thoughts are whose.

We head down the empty hall, me inside the frame of Joey Mattson, the guy everyone else wants to be. And now I’m him. I could probably get any girl in school now. They all adore him. Even the teachers like him. The sky is the limit on what is achievable. But first, Joey thinks he needs to go to the bathroom. And so I relax, letting him go to take care of whatever bodily functions needs attention.

No one is in the restroom. He looks at himself in the mirror and splashes water in his face. It’s a weird feeling for me, seeing myself and knowing the face isn’t mine. This one doesn’t have acne, nor scars associated with it. The eyes are a different color, the cheeks higher, and when he smiles to check his teeth, I can’t help that they are much whiter than mine were. It takes some effort but I force hm to look down at his body. Even with clothes covering it, I can tell the physique is more appealing than mine ever was. I no longer inhabit a lanky body. Its easy to tell Joey works out. He is in top physical form. No wonder he’s popular with the ladies.

My thoughts must have been bleeding into his own for the vertigo returned and he hurried into a stall to throw up. He retched but nothing came. I could his confused mind asking what was wrong with him. I wanted to answer him back, ‘You aren’t just you anymore.’ I also wanted to direct him to get it together and just accept this. Go find the girl I jumped into this body for anyway. I don’t know if it was my thoughts or how he was feeling physically, but he went to retch again.

The bathroom door opened and someone came in. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stepped out of the stall, expecting to see a teacher. But it wasn’t one of the faculty. It was the football jock from class.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so,” my host replied. “No, I’m not sure.”

The jock walked to one of the urinals and unzipped. In the midst of relieving his bladder, he asked, “so, what’s wrong? You feel sick?”

“Yeah, a little, I guess.”

“You going to hurl?”

My host laughs. “No. I thought I was. I’ll be okay.”

The jock zips back up. “I hope so.”

“Yeah, me too.”

We all walk to the sinks, both guys washing their hands. Nothing is said for a moment.

“How did you get out of class?” My host asks.

“Oh that was easy. Teachers get uneasy when you say you cant hold it any longer. I threatened to piss in my seat.”

They both have a laugh at this and then proceed to dry their hands off at the wall mounted dryer.

“You better go back soon then,” Joey says. “It doesn’t take that long to pee.”

“Yeah, I guess I better. You sure you’re okay?”

I nod my head, or at least Joey does. I am just a spectator inside his body. And then I fell it. A butterfly kind of feeling, that spreads through my stomach and down my body. I wonder if he’s going to retch again right in front of this guy. Maybe hurl up on his shoes.

The jock smiles and turns to go, then stops. “I don’t care if you threw up or not.”



He grabs my host’s face in his hands and kisses him.


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