(Hermione and Draco take on the zombie apocalypse) It's been five years since Harry, Hermione and Ron left Hogwarts.
Hermione, now twenty-two and engaged to Ron, prides herself in her intelligence. All her life, Hermione has always needed to kno...
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Draco looked down into his mug of firewhiskey, the reddish liquid entrancing him as he felt the effects of it lingering in his body. He looked up, realizing Parkinson was nattering at him. His eyes caught the title of a discarded Daily Prophet still sitting on their table.
"So what's the deal with those weasels?" Draco slurred. He furrowed his brows and pushed his drink away. It was best that he cut himself off before getting completely inebriated and acting like a fool. He did not usually let himself indulge in such pleasures, but with the week he was having when Zabini had mentioned grabbing some drinks, he had found himself more than willing.
His eyes settled on Parkinson's pug-nosed face, making him reconsider. How had he got himself stuck alone with her? He eyed her hand, which was clutching his arm in some attempt at flirtation across the slightly damp wooden table.
"Oh, it's curious really! They have all up and disappeared, that mu-," Parkinson said, ducking her head and lowering her voice as she finished. "-dblood, Granger is gone too. I think the know-it-all bitch finally lost it."
Draco furrowed his brows, thinking of the curly haired girl that had been all awkward and buck-toothed back in his first year. He chose to neglect his memories of her punching him in the face, and how she had become quite fit in her later years.
Thinking that way of the mudblood Granger was not something Draco would do. Even if as time passed, he found himself deterring more and more from his parent's ideology. His parent's pure-blood mentality had nearly destroyed his family, and if they had not deferred at the last minute, they would all be locked up in Azkaban that moment.
"Why would she kill the Weasleys? Wasn't she marrying the weasel himself?"
Pansy frowned at him, her fingers digging into his arm slightly. "Because she's bloody nuts, that's why." Pansy eyed him, obviously concerned over his lack of enthusiasm in following her line of thought.
Draco shook his head, trying to shake off the remaining firewhiskey in his system and failing., He drew his arm back from Parkinson's clutches. "It doesn't make sense; she was part of the golden trio for fucks sakes."
Pansy sniffed, noticing Draco's snub, but not all that affected by it. She simply took a swig of her firewhiskey, eyeing him with dark eyes.
If it wasn't for that nose, she may even be pretty, Draco considered. He shook his head.
Yeah, no more firewhiskey for him if he was considering Pansy Parkinson. That was a bad idea for several reasons.
"Well, they found the blood of all the Weasleys that had been present in the home, and they didn't find a speck of hers, and she's missing too."
Draco tilted his head, considering. "Maybe she was kidnapped?"
Parkinson snorted, reminding him a bit of the dog he likened her to. "Who's daft enough to try to kidnap Hermione Granger?"
