(no subject)
Title: Home on the Train
Time: 28
Challenge #3, for challenge 25, catch-up.
Scene: The Hogwarts Express
Action: Someone is completely out of character with their canon self, to the surprise of those in attendance
Must include phrases: melodramatic nonsense and Care to wager on that?
Ron’s jaw dropped open and he prodded Harry with his elbow. “What the…?”
Hermione, following their line of vision out the window of their compartment felt the book slip out of her hands and down onto the floor, but for the first time in anyone’s recollection she cared about neither losing her page nor the potential damage to the book’s binding.
Striding toward the train in chaps and a ten-gallon hat was Draco Malfoy. Or his long-lost sun-kissed American cowboy twin.
They followed him with their eyes right up to the steps and then stared at each other, speechless.
Not two minutes later, the same boy walked casually into their compartment and sprawled next to Hermione, knees spread wide, elbow casually on the back of the seat plucking a bloody stalk of straw from between his lips. The same hand traveled to the brim of his hat in a ghost of a tip. “Howdy, y’all.”
Harry responded automatically, staring at the tanned image of Draco before him. “Hullo.”
He elbowed Ron who jumped and spoke up next. “Yeah, hullo, Malfoy.”
“Y’all can call me Draco. And who might you be, little lady?”
Hermione couldn’t tear her eyes away as she absently leaned to reach for the dropped book, which Draco bent quickly and picked up, placing it in her lap. “Hermione. Granger. Muggle-born. Gryffindor.”
“Well, then. Hermione. I can call you Hermione? I reckon these house divisions I’ve heard tell of are a mite divisive, don’t you?”
“Ah. Sure. Draco, are you feeling all right?”
“I feel right fine. Not been poorly more'n a day all summer long.”
“Yes but, we know you. This isn’t you.”
“Aw, I had a bit of a mishap on the ranch, you might say,. Hit m’head. Ain’t recollected a speck of nothin’ before, ever since.”
“Um. Well. Have you been told what you’re like?” Harry wanted to know.
“Foreman gave me chores to do, told me to keep my head up and my nose to the grindstone. We worked together real good. Got my letter, then-dandy thing, those owls, and headed back for the train. Had to ask a lovely red-headed woman how to get t’the platform. Weren’t apparent, after all, now was it?” He rattled on without a pause for an answer. “Foreman figgered this Dumbledore feller might know how t’ fix my noggin.”
“Right.” Hermione opened her book and pretended to settle back to reading, shooting frequent glances over the top of the cover at Draco as he lounged beside her, watching Harry as he twirled his straw in between his finger and thumb.
Harry looked at Ron, who looked back and shrugged.
Hermione looked over her book at them.“He’s playing with us. It’s all melodramatic nonsense.”
Harry looked back at Draco, relaxed and berry-brown. “I don’t know. Care to make a wager? Snape’ll know, if Dumbledore doesn’t.”
“I don’t think I’ll take that bet,” Ron said, watching Draco carefully.
“You think he’s for real?” Hermione asked.
“The real Draco Malfoy couldn’t possibly deign to share a seat with a Mudblood. Sorry, Hermione.”
“I ‘sure you, I am Draco Malfoy. I gather we’re not bosom buddies?”
“Not…exactly.”
Hermione stood, then, as the train gathered speed. “Ron, you and I need to head for the prefects…” she looked at Draco, who showed no interest. “Harry, you’ll be all right alone with him?”
“I expect I can handle one confused Slytherin for an hour or so.”
“Right. Ron?” Hermione and Ron backed out of the compartment, still staring at the blonde who looked back, unperturbed.
“So. Harry, is it? We’re not friends either?”
“Ah, no. Mortal enemies, is more like.”
“Too bad. I could just eat you up.”
“Oh?”
“Darlin’ you have no idea.”
Harry grinned. “Brilliant. Want to explain it to me?”
“In detail. I surely would love to.” He gestured at the two bench seats. “Your place or mine?”
Time: 28
Challenge #3, for challenge 25, catch-up.
Scene: The Hogwarts Express
Action: Someone is completely out of character with their canon self, to the surprise of those in attendance
Must include phrases: melodramatic nonsense and Care to wager on that?
Ron’s jaw dropped open and he prodded Harry with his elbow. “What the…?”
Hermione, following their line of vision out the window of their compartment felt the book slip out of her hands and down onto the floor, but for the first time in anyone’s recollection she cared about neither losing her page nor the potential damage to the book’s binding.
Striding toward the train in chaps and a ten-gallon hat was Draco Malfoy. Or his long-lost sun-kissed American cowboy twin.
They followed him with their eyes right up to the steps and then stared at each other, speechless.
Not two minutes later, the same boy walked casually into their compartment and sprawled next to Hermione, knees spread wide, elbow casually on the back of the seat plucking a bloody stalk of straw from between his lips. The same hand traveled to the brim of his hat in a ghost of a tip. “Howdy, y’all.”
Harry responded automatically, staring at the tanned image of Draco before him. “Hullo.”
He elbowed Ron who jumped and spoke up next. “Yeah, hullo, Malfoy.”
“Y’all can call me Draco. And who might you be, little lady?”
Hermione couldn’t tear her eyes away as she absently leaned to reach for the dropped book, which Draco bent quickly and picked up, placing it in her lap. “Hermione. Granger. Muggle-born. Gryffindor.”
“Well, then. Hermione. I can call you Hermione? I reckon these house divisions I’ve heard tell of are a mite divisive, don’t you?”
“Ah. Sure. Draco, are you feeling all right?”
“I feel right fine. Not been poorly more'n a day all summer long.”
“Yes but, we know you. This isn’t you.”
“Aw, I had a bit of a mishap on the ranch, you might say,. Hit m’head. Ain’t recollected a speck of nothin’ before, ever since.”
“Um. Well. Have you been told what you’re like?” Harry wanted to know.
“Foreman gave me chores to do, told me to keep my head up and my nose to the grindstone. We worked together real good. Got my letter, then-dandy thing, those owls, and headed back for the train. Had to ask a lovely red-headed woman how to get t’the platform. Weren’t apparent, after all, now was it?” He rattled on without a pause for an answer. “Foreman figgered this Dumbledore feller might know how t’ fix my noggin.”
“Right.” Hermione opened her book and pretended to settle back to reading, shooting frequent glances over the top of the cover at Draco as he lounged beside her, watching Harry as he twirled his straw in between his finger and thumb.
Harry looked at Ron, who looked back and shrugged.
Hermione looked over her book at them.“He’s playing with us. It’s all melodramatic nonsense.”
Harry looked back at Draco, relaxed and berry-brown. “I don’t know. Care to make a wager? Snape’ll know, if Dumbledore doesn’t.”
“I don’t think I’ll take that bet,” Ron said, watching Draco carefully.
“You think he’s for real?” Hermione asked.
“The real Draco Malfoy couldn’t possibly deign to share a seat with a Mudblood. Sorry, Hermione.”
“I ‘sure you, I am Draco Malfoy. I gather we’re not bosom buddies?”
“Not…exactly.”
Hermione stood, then, as the train gathered speed. “Ron, you and I need to head for the prefects…” she looked at Draco, who showed no interest. “Harry, you’ll be all right alone with him?”
“I expect I can handle one confused Slytherin for an hour or so.”
“Right. Ron?” Hermione and Ron backed out of the compartment, still staring at the blonde who looked back, unperturbed.
“So. Harry, is it? We’re not friends either?”
“Ah, no. Mortal enemies, is more like.”
“Too bad. I could just eat you up.”
“Oh?”
“Darlin’ you have no idea.”
Harry grinned. “Brilliant. Want to explain it to me?”
“In detail. I surely would love to.” He gestured at the two bench seats. “Your place or mine?”