My Fair Lady

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My Fair Lady- This is a Nightmare

Hermione was tied on a chair in a small stuffy room of Harry's house on the Wimpole Street as she practiced her speech. Dozens of wooden sticks, which were also known as wands, were placed around her. Well, pointing directly at her, to be exact.

"Eh..." Hermione tried her best to pronounce "A" properly. She couldn't tell what was wrong with her pronunciation at all. Harry insisted that she should learn to speak clearly before any magic, or else drastic disaster could occur. Of course she couldn't speak clearly. Why else would she be here studying? However, Hermione thought it was unnecessary to worry about her vowels because there was nothing wrong with her vowels.

"Eh..." Hermione tried once more as she gazed at the charmed quill scribbling furiously in front of her.

Terrible sound. Horrible pronunciation. There are absolutely no hopes in this girl. The quill wrote on as Hermione tried again to satisfy the pen and hoped again for better comments.

"Eh..." After Hermione moved into Harry's house, she had seen Harry, Draco, Lavender and other maids and servants doing amazing works with those wooden wands. She was afraid at first but soon grown accustomed to it. She was now fascinated by magic and tried all she could to beg Harry or Draco to teach magic to he. Now, learning magic was also on Hermione's to-do list while she was at Harry's place.

"EH..." Hermione was shrieking with frustration now. The quill still wouldn't give her any nice comments. It was just repeating what it had written over and over again in the last six hours. It was just a simple "A" after all.

Suddenly, Harry burst through the doors. Hermione looked at him as if she was looking at the Savior of the Universe.

Harry was dressed in some simple shirt and pants. Obviously, he had spent his morning running around the park with Draco. He stopped the quill and examined Hermione's progress.

Hermione glanced at the clock. Two-thirty, it read. She was starved. She hadn't had any food since Harry Potter dragged her from her bed at eight o'clock that morning. She could really do with some lunch right now. However, Harry's next words shattered whatever fantasy Hermione had about her up coming lunch.

"Look at this!" Harry yelled. "Dreadful, dreadful, dreadful! You can't even pronounce your vowels properly. You could hardly be expected to say a sentence clearly, let alone doing a spell! No, I don't want your excuses. Save your breaths for more practices. You will only have dinner when you get an 'OK' from the quill. Now get back to work!"

Harry walked out of the stuffy little room and banged the door on his way out, and left a sweaty Hermione all tied up on the chair.

Hermione had never felt so angry in her whole life. Never had she been more humiliated. She thought she had her worst on the night she met Harry, but no, worse were coming. Why had she ever bothered to ask this arrogant professor to teach her anything at all? Chocolate. How did she ever fall for chocolate?

As she stared angrily after Harry, an amazing thing happened. The ropes binding Hermione to the chair suddenly snapped. She was able to stand up freely. Hermione made her way to the door and peer out. No one was there in the foyer. The house was silent. Hermione supposed that either the whole house went out or that everyone were dead. Either way, she was going to have a rest.

Hermione glided into the middle of the house and began to pour out her daylong hatred for Harry Potter. "Just you wait, 'arry 'otter, just you wait! You'll be sorry, but your tears'll be to late! You'll be broke, and I'll have money. Will I help you? Don't be funny! Just you wait, 'arry 'otter, just you wait! Just you wait, 'arry 'otter, till you're sick. And you scream to fetch a doctor double-quick. I'll be off a second later and go straight to the the-ater! Oh ho ho, 'arry 'otter, just you wait! Ooooooh 'arry 'otter! Just you wait until we're swimmin' in the sea! Ooooooh 'arry 'otter! And you get a cramp a little ways from me! When you yell you're going to drown I'll get dressed and go to town! Oh ho ho, 'arry 'otter! Oh ho, 'arry 'otter! Just you wait! One day I'll be famous! I'll be proper and prim. Go to St. James so often I will call it St. Jim! One evening the king will say, "Oh, 'Mione, old thing, I want all of England your praises to sing. Next week on the twentieth of May I proclaim 'Mione Granger Day! All the people will celebrate the glory of you and whatever you wish and want I gladly will do." "Thanks a lot, King," says I, in a manner well bred. But all I want is 'arry 'otter 'ead!" "Done," says the King with a stroke. "Guard, run and bring in the bloke!" Then they'll march you, 'arry 'otter to the wall. And the King will tell me: "'Mione, sound the call." As they lift their rifles higher, I'll shout, "Ready! Aim! Fire!" Oh ho, 'arry 'otter. Down you'll go, 'arry 'otter! Just you wait!"

Hermione was completely entranced by her vivid imagination. She laughed triumphantly, when Harry's voice boomed behind her.

"A..." said Harry.

Hermione turned abruptly. She gasped as she saw Harry stood at the top of the stairs behind her with the same expression he usually wore. Hermione blushed deeply and ran back to the stuffy little room to practice her vowels.

Harry grinned as he went back to his study upstairs, where Draco was sitting.

"Never knew that she could sing before, did you? Anyhow, Potter, don't you think you are pushing her too hard? It's only her first day. You are going to scare her off," Draco said.

Harry sat down before Draco and sighed, "She's going to need every second she gets in my house, or she would never get it done by Christmas. Her vowels are awful. If she can't speak clearly, she definitely won't be able to study magic. You do realize that we have to squish in our seven years' work in Hogwarts plus all the common knowledge a witch should have, along with her phonetics lessons before Christmas, don't you?"

Draco chuckled, "Potter, if I don't know better, I'd say you are scared that you'd lose the bet. Relax; there are still six months to Christmas yet. I dare say that you have caught the over-working disease from your old Quidditch captain, Oliver Wood."

Harry stood up. He revealed a large role of parchment. "No, you don't get it." With a swish, Harry opened the role, which was a good ten feet long. "This is the amount of work we need to get done before Christmas."

Draco's eyes nearly rolled out of their socket when he saw the list. However, before he could comment, Lavender opened the door. "Harry?" she asked.

"Yes?" answered Harry, who rubbed his temple as he turned around. He couldn't believe that it was only the first day of Hermione's lessons and he was already getting headaches. "What is it?"

"There's a man with nasty speech outside asking to see you," came the reply.

Harry put up a hand. "No, send him away. I am occupied."

Before anyone could speak, Seamus had invited himself into the study. "Nice place, eh? No wonder Hermione abandoned her little basement."

Harry's attention turned to this dirty little street sweeper immediately. "You know Hermione?"

"Oh yes, I know Hermione all right," Seamus winked. "She's my sister. I know more, you know. You just took my baby sister here to live with you and told her that she wouldn't need any clothes. No clothes? Ha! I know there won't be any good coming from her living with you, Professor Potter." Seamus eyes Harry and Draco, unsure of who was the Professor Potter.

Draco stood back. He wasn't planning to be involved in this. He merely looked on with a look of amusement on his face.

Harry walked over to the table and poured out a glass of Firewhisky. "Drink? No? Ok, straight to the business then." Harry took a long sip from the glass. "I assure you that Sir Malfoy and I are not practicing anything illegal here. However, if you feel obliged to take Miss Granger with you, then you are most certainly welcome to. Lavender? Get Miss Granger and send her home with Mr. Granger."

"No, Professor," Seamus stopped Harry immediately. "I don't want Hermione going back with me. Today I'm only here to check if she's all right. Seeing such a good and kind professor you are, I see that my conscience can rest. However, I'd like to get a little more reassurance." Seamus winked again.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "How much?"

"Five pounds. Just five pounds and you can do whatever you'd like with my sister," came Seamus's answer.

"Five? That's cheap. I think I'll give you ten."

"Oh no, Professor Potter. I'm not a greedy man. Only five would do. Just a little to drink and a little to spend, I am a content man. Give me five and keep the rest and use them on my baby sister," Seamus replied earnestly.

Harry gave Seamus five pounds and sent him down stairs. "Are you absolutely sure that you don't want ten?"

Seamus only waved and left.

"You know, Malfoy, I think this little Mr. Granger can be entered into that morality speech competition I was asked to speak in. Lavender, arrange it so that Mr. Granger would take my place in the morality speech competition next week. A very interesting man he is," Harry said and glanced at the small side room. "Better check up on Hermione now, I guess. This is going to be some long months."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Days went by and Hermione's speech had hardly improved. She still couldn't pronounce her vowels properly. She was getting very sick of phonetics and even the thought of studying magic or eating chocolate couldn't cheer her up anymore.
It was a dark stormy night of the second week since she took up her study with Harry. Every servant had already gone to bed already. The only people still up in the house were Harry, Hermione and Draco. They were still working on the vowels. Harry gave her a line to read.

"The rayne in Spayne staiys maynely on the playne," Hermione said. It was very late and she had hardly eaten anything that day for she hadn't gotten one vowel right.

Harry sprawled on his favorite couch with a bag of ice sitting on his head. His headache had turned into a severe fever. However, he was determined not to rest and continued to teach Hermione through his illness. He had to win the bet. "Again, Hermione. It's rain, not rayne," Harry corrected weakly.

Draco was half asleep in the other couch.

This is a nightmare! Hermione screamed silently. I'm in a nightmare.

"Go on!" Harry tried to yell at Hermione, but his voice was all gone.

Draco turned onto his side and began to snore.

"The rayne in Spayne staiys maynely on the playne," Hermione tried once more without success.

Harry sighed. This is hopeless. "Again, Hermione. Say Spain instead of Spayne."

Hermione broke down into sobs. She couldn't do it. She was just a big disappointment for everyone. Harry would lose his bet with Draco and Draco would be angry to see her unsuccessful after all the trouble he had gone into. Tears rolled uncontrollably down her cheeks.

"Hermione, you can do it," Harry encouraged. This was the first kind word he had ever said to Hermione since they met. "I know you can. You have the potentials. Try one more time. The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain."

Hermione stared in front of her for a little. She concentrated on the vowels she should pronounce. I mustn't let him down, Hermione told herself before giving it one more go. Despite of her anger towards Harry for his unfair treatment towards her, Hermione found herself constantly trying to please him in every possible way.

She opened her mouth and the most amazing whisper in the world came out. "The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain."