Some day, this will be a "Last.fm/NetFlix/Amazon for web fiction" (both original and fanfiction) where you can search across many different hosting sites or rate what you've read and get recommendations. However, life keeps throwing more urgent projects my way, so I don't know when it'll be ready.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6517567/9/"...and somehow you think you're worthy, Malfoy?"
Draco huffed at the implied insult. "You think you could do better than me, Potter? You wouldn't even be able..."
Hermione cut him off. "No, you arrogant brat, he's saying that there's no chance in hell that you'll ever be picked when you're up against any of the seventh-years in this school. You're just a fourth year, and not even top in the class."
Draco, obviously agitated, fell back to his usual insults. "I didn't ask you, mudblood! When I'm entered in the competition, my father will know..."
Hermione knew he was going to say something like that. She laughed, saying, "Unless this Triwizard Tournament is a letter-writing competition, Malfoy, you have no chance of winning." The rest of the cabin laughed with her, as Draco stormed off. Ron shut and locked the door behind him.
"That was brilliant, Hermione. I almost wish he did get picked for the competition, just so we could watch him fail," said Ron.
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