Enchanted ~ A Hermione x Draco fanfic

Wizard Chess

Author's note

This fanfic takes place in book five: The Order Of The Pheonix, however this is a very different version, and many events don't happen as they did. I do not own any of the characters used in the Harry Potter series. Happy reading!

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'Rook to B3.' Ron said, grinning, and watched as his red rook took one of harry's knights. Harry let out an irritated mumble and replied with 'Bishop to D2', although he knew he was never going to win against Ron at his favourite game. The train erupted with a low rumble and Harry and Ron felt the train come to life. 

'Hello Harry, Ron.' Hermione's voice startled Ron who was deep in concentration. 

'Bloody hell, Hermione, don't scare me in the middle of a game.' He grumbled in response. Hermione rolled her eyes and went to sit herself beside Harry. As if on cue, Harry's queen received a huge blow from one of Ron's pieces, and crumbled all over the board, in addition to most of Harry's other pieces. Hermione winced as white dust fell onto her jeans. Being the child of two muggles (Non-magical folk), she wasn't quite used to seeing chess pieces attack each other.

She moaned and pulled out her wand to clean up the mess. 

'Honestly!' She twirled her wand anti-clockwise. 'Scrougify!' The crumbled bits of chess pieces seemed to be pulled back into their original shapes, and Hermione caught herself smiling. In Hermione's mind it was one of the most simplest spells they had learnt, but Ron's last feeble attempt at it resulted in his mess multiplying so much that he had to take three showers to get the chocolate pudding out of his ears.

Harry seemed more than happy to finish the game, and after helping Ron put the pieces and the board away, pulled out a copy of The Daily Prophet from under his suitcase.

Smoothing out the crumpled pages, he observed the front cover, a habit of scanning it so thoroughly he could have read it off by heart. He'd learnt that almost all of his mistakes would most probably make the paper. But it no longer bothered him. His lightning shaped scar hadn't burnt with pain in almost two weeks, and he was savouring the peace.

In Harry's opinion, if he wasn't on the front page, it wasn't worth checking. The Daily Prophet had made it their hobby to discredit Harry after he announced He Who Must Not Be name was back, but he didn't care anymore. Well, he did, but he chose to ignore it.

He set aside the paper, and ran his hands through his jet-black hair, staring at Hermione, who looked less pleased as usual when riding to Hogwarts. She caught his glances and scowled.

'Whatever are you staring at me for?' 

Harry blushed as Ron spun round, looking agitated. 'You look a little, off.' He replied cautiously, knowing Hermione would take any comment he took seriously. She frowned and turned to the window.

'Mum and Dad got hold of the Prophet the other day.' 

Ron spoke up. 'And?'

Hermione paused. She looked nervous to tell the pair about it. 'It was an old copy.' She said quietly. Harry and Ron waited. 'One from when Hogwarts held the Triwizard tournament.' She added, still not revealing what she had to say.

The previous year, Harry had been the only tribute in the history of the Triwizard tournament to be the fourth member. The game was usually made for three students of three different schools. Harry being chosen as a fourth member shocked the press and public, and The Daily Prophet publicised him as a weakling of a boy with little to no chance of winning, and who still wept over his parents death. 

'Surely you told them about it?' Harry asked, imagining Hermione being scolded by her parents, a pair of nice muggle dentists.

'No, no, it's just, Malfoy did an interview, about me and you.' She said directed at Harry, tears forming in her eyes. There was an awkward silence.

'Mum and Dad wanted to know what me being muggle-born had to do with anything.' She spoke, and a tear slipped over her cheek, which she quickly swept away.

Neither Harry or Ron had read the article, but they had a rough idea of what Malfoy had said. Draco Malfoy was a true hater of all muggle-borns, and made it regular to call Hermione a mud-blood, suggesting that her blood was impure, unlike his. The term was incredibly offensive and although Malfoy was most definitely not allowed to say it in the paper, the general idea was published anyway.

Ron's fists clenched under the table, his knuckles turning as white as snow, although his face was burning red. Ron was pure-blooded, but as far as anyone was concerned, he was a 'blood-traitor' due to the fact that his family was friendly with Muggle-borns and a werewolf called Remus Lupin.

'That git, he's not going to know what's-' Ron started, but Harry cut him off. 

'Ron, you don't want to get expelled before your first day back. We can sort him out later.'

Suddenly, the doors of their compartment slid open, and there stood no-one but Draco Malfoy, badly suppressing a smug grin.

'Potty, Weasel,' He paused 'Mudblood.'

Ron sprung to his feet, wand in hand, surprising Harry, who was still fumbling for his wand in the pocket of his robes. 

Malfoy looked indifferent, his own wand gripped steadily in his pale fingers. 'Go on, I dare you.' He spoke confidently. Hermione passed Harry his wand that had rolled under her seat, which didn't escape the cutting glare of Malfoy.

His piercing eyes found the newspaper beside harry. 'See what they put about Dumbledore? The old prat won't stay more than a week, I bet. And there's a lovely piece about the ministry's opinion on Mudbloods, Granger. Maybe you should check it out.' Hermione said nothing, although Ron could see her hand was now clasping her own wand under the table, and she would most certainly dare to use it.

Everything was silent until Harry spoke up. 'So where did your daddy hide his Dark Objects when the ministry came knocking? Has mummy got them? Or maybe your dear aunt Bellatrix?' He hissed, referring to the checks the Ministry of Magic had been doing on everyone who had had previous contact with Voldemort, otherwise known as He Who Must Not Be Named.

It only took seconds for Draco Malfoy's arm to spring to life, producing a curse that Harry's shoulder narrowly missed, but bounced off the window and hit Hermione full on in the face. Ron let out a protective roar and shot Malfoy with a bright yellow curse, making him wail and fall backwards into the corridor. Hermione's skin was now peeling at a frightening rate, and Harry was stumbling around looking for a counter-curse in one of Hermione's spell books. Ron was trying to shut the compartment door, despite the fact that Malfoy's leg was still in it, and he was making strange noises, attracting yet more attention.

And then a low, cold voice rang out in the confusion. 'And what is this?' 

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