MOULIN ROUGE

A Harry Potter Cross-over by

~* Kara Darkblood *~

(Miss Prongs)

"There was a boy,
A very strange, enchanted boy
They say he wandered very far,
very far,
over land and sea...

And Then one day,
one magic day,
he passed my way,
And while we spoke of many things
Fools and kings
this he said to me,

The greatest thing, you'll ever learn, is just to love, and be loved in return..."

~* David Bowie, Nature Boy ~*

The day lingered on, the last traces of light from the gleaming sun not seeming to want to go to sleep, sweet sleep. The world was almost at peace, the hot summer day had made everyone tired early, and the last of the inhabitants of the small town were dragging themselves home, as though the lush, comfortable beds that awaited them were calling out in the heat.

A red-haired seventeen year old looked out of the huge windows. The ancient castle, which stood, towering high above the town, offered a perfect arial view of the whole surrounding area. Cracked stone and broken doors suggested a greying old mansion, but when one entered through the portal into this castle, they were greeted with a sight most pleasing to the eye, beautiful interiors straight from the Elizabethian era, which had such an authentic look, you'd swear that you were back in time.

When you see the pupils that lived there, it is a most unusual sight. A most bizzare place, and most bizzare interior decorating for a school, was complemented by the black robed students and teachers who filled the hallways and classrooms.

On this particular summer evening, two days before the end of term, the afore mentioned boy is pondering his life. What his future holds remains yet to be seen. As he peers into the coming darkness, he sees the last of the browns and golds filling the sky. It reminds him of his dearest Hermione, a young woman whom he adores and dotes upon more than anyone or anything else in the world. It is because of her that he made it this far, that he is the way he is.

The only problem is, she doesn't seem to love him.

His worst ennemy, Draco Malfoy, is a particularily nasty young man, with clear blue eyes and short, blonde hair. His nasty comments break girls hearts; most are smitten with him in only a glance. Perfect phyisique, rich, powerful . . . is that not all a girl wants in a man?

But how could his love care for such a horrible creature? Hermione, with her light brown hair, long and silky, her hazel eyes, that peer into your soul, her pale face, soft, pink lips, intelligence and wisdom beyond her years. It breaks his heart everytime he catches her peering over at . . . him.

Does he peer back?

The answer is simple.

Yes.

Who ever would have thought? Apparently, as I have heard, he dotes upon my darling as much as I do! Apparently, as I have heard, he loves her for her beauty.

Apparently, as I have heard, he is insanely jealous.

The nasty, rich boy and the pretty, smart girl. What a pair they would make - so materialistic and snobby, it's hard to believe he could get past the boundry of the fact that he's a Slytherin and she is a Gryffindor.

I can hear a voice - it's her. She bustles into the room, not even glancing at me, looking for something. She looks frantic, and shaken, and drops her books. Muttering something to herself, she sits down. I have never seen her so dishevaled before. I have to talk to her, but what to say? Hermione, I love you? Hermione . . . Hermione . . .? What to say, always, what to say.

It's too late. She has gotten up and walked away, saying something about potions work.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I couldn't help it. She is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. If it weren't for the fact that she is a bloody Gryffindor, I would have her already. Here she comes, with her notebook and harried expression. She walks by me, holding her head high. Always the snob. Always.

I decide that now is the time. I grab her wrist, and hold it, hard.

"What? What are you doing, Mal - " she tries to articulate the last part of my name, but I have silenced her with a hand to her mouth.

I try to summon the courage to say something. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, staring at her wide eyes, I release her from my grip.

"What was all that about, Malfoy, did you want to talk to me?" she sneers, and my anger swells.

"Why would I want to talk to you, mudblood? And don't you tell anyone, you hear? Or I will..." my voice trails as she walks away, swiftly, trying to hide any trace of fear she may have, but I can smell it. I can smell her fear, like a hungry werewolf. I didn't mean to make her afraid...

Then again, I always was a follower of Nicholas Machevoli. And did he not say, "It is better to rule in fear than in love?".

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She's coming - I can hear her. I'm just outside the commons room, looking for the nerve to come and find her. My heart leaps. She looks scared, and I examine her. Her wrist is swolen and there are nail marks on her face.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" I ask, and she stops.

For a moment, she looks as though she is going to tell me what happened. Then she shakes her head, and smiles sadly. "Nothing, Ron, darling, nothing."

My stomach flip-flops. She called me darling, I think, and suddenly find the courage to ask her.

"Hermione, are you busy tomorow night - I mean, after grad?"

There is a pause. It is long, and ackward. Then she smiles, and it feels as though a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

"No Ron, I'm not - are you asking me out?"

I pause.

"Yes, - er - I am. Do you -" I can't finish, because she has lept into my arms.

Why didn't I ask her this seven years ago?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She's hugging the Weasley boy! I knew it - she loves him.

Ah, won't this make a good story to tell Snape? Two students, out of their commons room at night, doing - suggestive things in the hallways?

I watch in silence as Hermione remembers what she was going to do before I found her. Weasley goes back into the commons room. She's coming this way.

I wait untill we are out of sight of the commons room, and I leap from the shadows to pin her against the cold, stone walls.

Her face is a stew of emotions - fear, anger, hate, loathing.

"What are you - Malfoy?!" she exclaims, and I stare back.

Her gaze is intense. I love her, the mudblood that she is.

"Listen, Hermione, I've had enough of this."

She doesn't understand.

"Had enough of what?"

I reply, bitterly. "What? I'll tell you what, Hermione. You get away with everything. No one ever knows what a truly . . . bad girl you are. Remember a few months ago? Pansy Parkinson? Then a week later - that Ravenclaw girl who threatened to get better than you on the charms exam? The memory charm? Oh, Hermione, don't look so surprised. I know. I know everything about you."

Hermione's face fills with fear at the sound of these words. As much as it seems ridiculious, they were all true. Her classes were so demanding - she had to stay top of the school. So she used magic against others to keep herself there. She knew it was breaking the rules, but she never thought that anyone would find out.

"What - what do you want, Draco?" she asked, her eyes pleading.

It's the first time since I first met her that she called me Draco.

"Go out with me. Eat at my table. Stay with me, forever." I whisper, and let my head dip down, my lips grazing her cheek.

Her breathing speeds up. She doesn't know what to do.

"It could get you expelled." I whisper, my lips moving against her warm flesh, forming the words.

"Fine." she says, and I look up at her.

There is a silence, and she doesn't try to move.

"Good. Meet me here after grad. Tomorow." she begins to leave, and I whisper after her.

"I love you." but my words are barely audible.

She is mine.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione's coming back. My girlfriend is coming back. My girlfriend. I sigh with happiness. But she's not happy.

"'Mione, what's wrong?" I ask, but she brushes past me.

Where is she going? "Mione, tell me what's wrong." she turns to face me.

"Ronald, listen - about what I said earlier," she begins, and I nod anxiously, though my heart fills with dread.

"I don't want to go out with you."

No words could have filled my heart with more fear or more dread. I shake my head in disbelief, and my face betrays my emotions. Yet there she stands, face stone cold. Being too much, I run. Run away from it all.

Why?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The night lingers on. I can see, from the astronomy tower, the Weasley running off. My 'Mione must have broken the poor boy's heart, I think sarcastically.

Now I wait.

The hours linger as the skies revolve around the astronomy tower. The starlight provides some glory. The constillation of Taurus is coming in from the south.

And still I wait.

Finally, the Weasley boy comes back, slipping into the castle. Probably, if I can assume so much, coming back to plea with my Hermione. She won't have him. The stakes are too high.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione is there, in the hallway, crying. I know that something is wrong. I rush up to her, the earlier harsh rejection forgotten.

"Herm, is something wrong?" I ask, touching her arm gently, waiting for a reaction.

"Oh, Ron!" she cries, falling into my arms.

"What's..." I begin to ask, but then slowly stop, and listen to her soft sobbing.

"It's Draco - he wants me to be his girlfriend. He threatens to have me - and you too - expelled if I don't!" she weeps.

I sigh. It's so likely of Draco to pull such a thing.

But to Hermione...

I look down, my face immediately being greeted by a mass of golden-brown hair, shaking uncontrollably.

"Darling, it's ok." I whisper, not knowing what else to do.

She looks up into my eyes, and after a moment, I kiss her, full on the lips.

I broke the kiss to whisper three little words.

"I love you."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I watched the pair in fury. How dare she, the little whore! After all that I have said to her, she goes to him anyway. He's leaving, and beconing her to follow. She doesn't. I can hear her; she's muttering something about, "what if he finds out...?" but it's too late, Hermione, I know.

As soon as he enters the room, I command the door to shut and lock it so he can not get out.

I look to my dearest Hermione, her face twisted in fear and anger.
"Malfoy." she says, so bitterly, it made me want to hit her.

I grabbed her from where she was, swung her around, and shoved her against the wall, pinning her there.

"Don't say anything, Hermione, don't say anything." I shout, pressing my lips forcefully against hers.

That's when everything went black.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry came back to the commons room, supporting a withering Hermione. She shoots a glance in my direction, and my heart goes out to her. She looks so sad, so down and depressed it makes me want to run to her, but the way that Harry is looking at me tells me to go. Tonight has been so strange - what is going on?

Then it hits me -

Malfoy.

He did something to her.

It's the only possible explanation for all of this. I move to the door of the dorms, fighting the urge to leap down there and beat Draco's brains out. Hermione's sobbing and Harry's - and now Ginny's, too - comforting words stop me. I can hear Hermione coughing. It sounds bad. Everything is so confusing.

Throwing myself on the bed, sleep finally comes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She's meeting me tomorow. She is mine. She is mine.

Hermione Granger belongs to me.

Hermione Granger belongs to Draco Malfoy.

My excitedness is only dampened by the Weasley boy's involvement in this little fiasco. She'd do anything to not have me tell. Anything. So she won't see Weasley anymore.

Potter is not a threat, though some like to specualte that it is so. That god-damned Potter is running around with that filthy, poor
excuse for a pureblood Ginny.

There is no stopping it now, she's mine.

For now, and for as long as I please.

I'm in control.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I can hear footsteps as the sunlight bathes my eyelids. I open them, looking around the room. Everyone has left - who is that coming? It's a figure in black robes - Harry? No - it's a smaller, more feminine figure -

Hermione?

Yes, it's her. She's walking up here at quite a pace. Opening the curtains of my four-poster bed, she looks desolate.

"Ron, I have to talk to you."

Oh, boy. Now here it comes - bloody hell . . .

"Listen, Ron, I don't know what happened last night, but whatever I said to you, just ignore it."

She doesn't look at me. She looks hurried, but I am determined to get an explanation; I have all day.

"So . . ." I begin slowly, secretly enjoying the annoyed expression she now wears. Just as a small smile begins to creep onto to my face, I remember what I have to say next - "So, it's over?"

She lets out an exhasperated sigh. "There was never anything to be over." She waves away my comments with her hand.

"Goodbye, Ron. Goodbye."

She walks out the room, not caring one ounce about me, the boy in the bed.

Her last comments hit me like a ton of bricks, shattering my heart into a thousand pieces as though it were made of glass. Everything was so confusing. It was a nightmare, and he wanted it to end. He wanted to wake up, in a little house somewhere in a litte wizarding town, with the sun beaming on his face and Hermione, smiling in her sleep, by his side.

But now, it's not himself, or the cozy little town that he envisions Hermione with. It's a luxurious, humongous mansion, in a huge four-poster bed with black, silk sheets and Draco Malfoy, whom she is with. Draco Malfoy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Today has been uneventful. Hermione went to the library all day, and recieved curious glances from all around her, even Snape, who looked semi-surprised at the fact that she was not with Potter and Weasley on her final day at Hogwarts. He was about to make his usual snide remark when he saw her, head down into the books.

"Miss Granger . . ." he began, and she looked up.

Her eyes were swollen, blood shoot. Her pale cheeks were red and tear stained, her hair was wild, she was in such a horrible and helpless state that even he could not bear to say something horrible.

"Yes, Proffessor Snape?" came her meek reply.

He paused, studying her features. Finally, he responded to her. "Good luck, Miss Granger. Good luck."

The words obviously surprised her, because there was a flicker in her eye. It went dull in seconds, though. As he walked by her, he placed his hand on her shoulder, offering her some comfort, and gave a tiny smile, the best a man like him could.

But tonight, will be great. The grad dance - the "prom," if you will.

Hermione, I can see, walking in the Great Hall, looks absolutely beautiful, stunning in a red dress.

Before she can reach me, Potter asks her to dance. Ginny giggles, and nods to Hermione. She takes Potter's arm, looking around.

I move to where they are. I catch sight of a flaming red head moving towards her too.

Weasley.

We both reach her at the same time. As Potter lets her go, slowly, I lean in, and whisper in her ear, "I could have you expelled." It's more of a hiss than a whisper. She looks at me, taking a step back, and then to Weasley.

Do you know who she picks?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* (Snape's POV)

Hermione Granger, the poor girl, for all I have hated her, and been cruel to her, and all of the mean things that I have said to her, and the way she acted, even despite all of those things, I pity her. I see her dillema - Malfoy, who threatens to ruin her, and Weasley, whom she truly does love.

Fortunately for her, I already know everything Malfoy does.

And have for a long time. But I'm not going to say anything.

As the music slows, and the dance floor becomes crowded and sweaty with couples in slow, passionate embraces, Hermione moves slowly to the red-head.

He takes her in his arms, and though they have whispered it, the room has quieted so that the words travel across the room.

They speak in unison; a perfect pair.

"I love you."

They were meant to be, it was destiny.

As for Malfoy, it's too late to do anything about Hermione; even if he did tell me, it would never get to Dumbledore. She's already graduated, and with top honours.

I sit back, and watch Malfoy storm out, past Granger and Weasley, past Potter and Ginny.

Hermione looks up at me, and a small smile crosses her face. I nod in return, and once again burries her head into Ron's shoulder.

THE END

A/N: OK, there it was folks, the Moulin Rouge crossover that has been nagging me to write it since I first saw the movie. If you haven't seen it, I really reccomend it, it's wonderfull.

As for the whole Snape-being-nice-to-Hermione-thing, I think that Snape has earned a terrrible rep, and that he doesn't deserve it because he is human and has feelings too.

I gotta go, it's late, I'm tired, I have a headache, it's like 300 degrees, my knee is killing me, and I can't think.

Please R/R!

~*~ Miss Prongs ~*~