The roar of the crowd came as a relief for her. She was not a huge fan of Quidditch, even though the match had been incredibly exciting. After watching the ceremonial events that concluded the match, the party slowly made their way back to their tent, chatting animatedly about everything they had seen: from Krum's daring capture of the Snitch to the brilliance of the Irish seekers, the party could not have given more admirable praise to both sides.
After a half an hour of fighting their way to the tent, they flung themselves into some of Perkin's old arm chairs. Mr. Weasley, though he looked emotionally drained from the match and physically exhausted from their early morning, went into the kitchen to make some cocoa. Harry, Ron and Charlie sat themselves on a worn velvet couch while Ginny slumped against Hermione's legs, who sat in a dark green armchair. Fred and George, still so excited about the match, both remained standing, demonstrating their favorite plays. Mr. Weasley came back into the sitting room while holding a tray, which he had precariously placed nine cups of cocoa on.
For two hours, Hermione sat through these intense discussions about the match. Not knowing very much about Quidditch (except for what she had learned in books), she simply smiled and laughed when the boys displayed plays.
Hermione felt a tap on her leg, and looked down to see what caused it; Ginny looked up at Hermione, and Hermione smiled back to her.
Ginny winked.
Hermione, confused by Ginny's behavior, watched her carefully. Ginny, feigning exhaustion, slumped down against Hermione's leg, apparently sleeping.
"Oh dear, boys, let's get to bed, Ginny's fallen asleep, it is nearly ten, and we got up at five today" Mr. Weasley exclaimed, jumping out of the chair he was sitting in.
Groaning, the boys headed off to bed.
"Hermione, you'll see that Ginny gets to bed safely?" Mr. Weasley said while looking down at Hermione.
"Yes, of course, Mr. Weasley, I'll just wake her up now and lead her to bed," Hermione said, feigning exhaustion herself.
Mr. Weasley nodded his approval and bade them goodnight. As soon as he had gone into his room, Hermione gently shoved Ginny off her legs.
"Alright, Ginny, what's up?" Hermione asked suspiciously.
A smile spread slowly across Ginny's face, "I agreed to meet Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan earlier today," Hermione rolled her eyes, "Want to come with me?"
Hermione could hardly believe how bold Ginny had become over this past summer. For some time now, she had been encouraging Ginny to move on from her feelings for Harry, but she worried that Ginny had taken this in the wrong way.
"They'll never find out," Ginny persuaded Hermione.
Hermione sighed, "Well go for fifteen minutes, no longer."
Ginny leapt up excitedly, "Then let's go!"
Hermione, sighing in exasperation at her best girlfriend's promiscuity, stood up to follow her.
Ginny led Hermione through a maze of tents, as though she knew her path (which she probably did, Hermione reminded herself. She had just acknowledged that Ginny had become increasingly skilled at wooing boys this summer, and directions to a boy's house were the easiest thing Ginny knew how to do with boys, at this point). Hermione observed the revelers, who had become increasingly more demonstrative since Hermione had last seen them. Fairies and bewitched firecrackers zoomed overhead, some emitting high pitched noises, others squealing "TROY! MULLET! MORAN!"
"Ginny!" It was Seamus, waving for her to join them.
Hermione saw Ginny's face; a devilish smile spread across her face and she sauntered forward, moving her hips in an unnecessary swinging movement (Hermione fought back a laugh; she would learn in good time how to do this, for right now she looked like she had a bad twitch).
"Oh, hi Hermione!" Said Seamus when he saw her.
"Hi Seamus, we can only stay for a bit," Hermione said in a less-than-inviting tone.
"Fine, however long is fine," he said distractedly, eyeing Ginny as she greeted Dean while reaching for a firewhisky.
"Ginny! You are way too young to drink that!" Hermione scolded.
"Oh, lighten up, Hermione, there's hardly ANY liquor in this," Ginny laughed while tipping the liquid into her mouth.
Hermione sighed and sat on a wood log, tapping her foot impatiently. Dean and Seamus paid her no mind, laughing at Ginny's jokes, eyeing her long red hair in a sort of trance. Secretly, Hermione was pleased that Ginny was trying to move on, yet she felt rather upset, too, that the boys paid her no mind.
"Seamus!" The group turned around; another freckly boy walked toward them.
"Oh hey, mate!" Seamus turned to look at the group, "This is me cousin, Fergus."
Fergus looked a good deal older than all of them, probably 16, and had more mature features than his cousin. Hermione looked at Ginny, and what she saw did not surprise her: Ginny's eyes roved up and down Fergus's broad shoulders, eyes sparkling. Hermione sighed, resigned to the fact that she might be the only person in control of her hormones in a mile wide radius.
Hermione stood up; she was not going to allow Ginny to lose control over herself, "Well, Ginny, I really think we ought to be getting back. Your dad will be furious."
Ginny pouted, "Oh please, Hermione. If you're tired, you go back. I'll stay here."
"Fine, Ginny, but I'll be waiting for you to come back in thirty minutes," she glared at Seamus and Dean, "You will have her back?"
"Yes, Hermione, we will," Dean said calmly. She was glad to have heard this from Dean, who she trusted the most.
With a terse nod, she started to walk back to her tent, fuming at Ginny's lack of control, even though she knew it was perfectly understandable. She took random turns, muttering to herself about Ginny's foolhardiness.
Hermione froze, looking around her. She did not recognize any tents around her. She knew she was toward the edge of the campground, because she saw the trees. Hermione bit her lip, trying to calm herself down. She didn't have a clue where she was. Cursing Ginny for luring her into this pointless late-night foray, she took more blind turns, not getting any closer to any site she recognized.
Hermione sighed, now frustrated to the point of tears. She sat herself down on a tree stump, placing her hands on her knees. She thought of her options as to what she could do: walk all the way back to the front of the campground (though admittedly she had no idea where that was) or use magic to find her way back. The latter was not exactly an appealing or legal option, though she could not just sit here all night.
She stood up, bracing herself to break the law, expecting Ministry officials to swoop down upon her. She took a deep breath and felt the spell on the tip of her tongue, lifting her wand skyward---
Hermione stopped suddenly; she heard quick footsteps, and she hurriedly stuffed her wand away, squinting to see who was there.
Something shone brightly, even in the limited moonlight. She thought of a Veela, wandering throughout the campground, or someone with a white beard, but it wasn't either of those suspects.
The figure stopped, feet away from her, pointing his wand at her.
"Don't! I won't hurt you!" Hermione said in a frightened voice.
Hermione couldn't see his face, but she could see the moonlight glistening on the extended wand.
She saw the wand swipe the air, and Hermione braced herself to be cursed, flinching slightly.
"Lumos," said the voice quietly.
Hermione slowly looked up, and the face she saw made her want to run in the opposite direction, as fast as she could.
The face was pale, and slightly pointed, with piercing blue eyes, surveying her face, his eyebrows raised.
"Granger," he said in a low voice, smiling waywardly.
Hermione's eyes narrowed, "What?"
Malfoy leaned against a tent pole, striking an impressive, careless pose, "Wandering about in the middle of the night? That sends an interesting message."
Hermione flushed slightly, "I don't mean anything by it. What are you doing?"
"Going back to my tent," he said, waving this aside.
Hermione surveyed him carefully. He looked disheveled: his shirt was wrinkled, and un-tucked, his hair messy.
"Should I even ask why you're in such a state?" She asked coldly.
A wicked smile spread across his face, "You wouldn't understand. Too innocent."
"Ah, I see. Well, I'm going to be going," Hermione turned away from him, but stopped. She had no idea which way to take. She deliberated for a few moments.
She did not here him approach her, yet slowly, he walked up, his footsteps muffled by the long grass, to be right behind her.
"I don't think you know where you are," he whispered into her ear.
Hermione shrieked and jumped slightly. Malfoy laughed softly, studying her state of shock.
Something happened in that moment, that moment when he saw her so petrified with fear. Perhaps he didn't realize what he was doing, but suddenly, he let his eyes rove over her figure, over her heaving chest. He saw her hair, a lot less frizzy than it had been when he first met her. He observed her small waist, covered by the thin sweater she wore that hung cozily on her figure.
Malfoy coughed, and stopped laughing. Hermione had since calmed herself down and continued to glare at Malfoy.
"Granger's lost her way…" he taunted in a low voice.
Hermione rolled her eyes, but then her shoulders fell, "I don't know where I'm supposed to go."
"Really, Granger? You, of all people, wouldn't realize that you could just magic yourself back to your tent?"
"That would be illegal," she hissed at him.
"Fine. Sit here all night, what do I care?" Malfoy turned around and walked away.
"WAIT!" Hermione shouted after him, "Please, I don't know where I am."
Malfoy looked at her, smiling wickedly, "Are you asking me for help?"
Hermione sighed, "As much as I don't want to… I am."
"I thought so… well then, follow me," Hermione did not like how he leered at her. She knew that following him was like following someone off a cliff just because they said it was a good idea, but she had no other option.
Hermione refused to walk in step with him, deciding to follow behind him for a bit. Malfoy glanced back at her when she first started to do this, "What the hell are you doing?" Hermione glared at him and said nothing, "Are you following my steps?"
"No!" Hermione shouted, and she walked to stand right beside him. Malfoy raised his eyebrows, still smiling while shaking his head.
They walked for another minute, and Hermione realized that he was not leading her to her tent, "Where are we going? This is nowhere near the front of the campgrounds," she looked suspiciously at him. She saw he was smiling impishly, "I don't believe you! This isn't near the front! Then where…" Hermione's eyes fell upon a lone, solitary dark tent at the end of the campgrounds, "This is your tent?" Malfoy laughed at her averse tone, "And, I suppose, your parents are in there?" She said in a worried voice.
"No, they're not. They gave me my own tent. I suppose you have to share with the Weasleys, in a small tent, 3 meters by 3 meters?"
Hermione glared at him, ignoring the slight on the Weasleys, he was helping her, and after all, "So why are we here?"
"I need to pick something up," he said, observing her carefully.
"Fine! I'll just wait out here," Hermione fumed. Malfoy watched her. Hermione looked around at the dark surroundings, only now did she realize that this tent was very isolated from the others.
"You really want to stay out here, alone?" He said in a low voice. He might have read her mind.
"I… well; I guess I'll come in. But I'm standing in the doorway!" She shouted after him as he walked into his tent, shaking his head in laughter.
Hermione walked into the tent and gasped. This tent was very grand, despite its much smaller size. The walls were a deep green fabric, draped neatly over where each pole stood to support it. Black cloths draped over several plain black chairs. Hermione observed a small nook with a tiny stove, and saw a part in the fabric, which led undoubtedly to where Malfoy slept.
Malfoy was taking his time, and she knew he was doing this on purpose. Hermione's legs were tired, so she sat herself on the edge of a chair. She observed the sitting room and saw that a few robes were strewn across the chairs and floor.
Hermione was drained, and her impatience slowly slipped away from her as did her consciousness, she felt herself sliding into the chair and shutting her eyes.
She jerked her head up suddenly: she heard footsteps. She opened her eyes and saw a figure walking around the sitting room.
Hermione let out a little sigh of shock: Malfoy had removed his shirt and was debating which robe he would wear. She shut her mouth immediately, but Malfoy had already realized she had woken.
"Enjoy your minute-long slumber? That position didn't exactly look comfortable."
He walked toward her, still shirtless, and stood in front of her chair. Hermione looked up at his face, with as much loathing as she could muster, forcing herself not to look at his perfect chest.
"Can we go now?" She said impatiently.
Malfoy laughed and turned away. He grabbed the robe on the couch and slipped it over his shoulders, "Just a minute, I left my wand in my room."
Hermione felt her eyelids drooping again, and she drifted asleep once more.
Malfoy walked back into the room and saw her, fast asleep in the chair. He observed her crouched figure and calm face. He saw her hair cascading down her shoulders; it was a lot longer than he remembered. Absentmindedly, he reached out a hand to touch it.
"Whoa," said Malfoy quietly. He cleared his throat, "Granger! Up! I'm taking you home."
Hermione stirred softly and opened her eyes, sitting up. She rubbed her eyes slowly; Malfoy thought this was endearing, and smiled at this movement.
Hermione stood up swaying.
"Let's go," Malfoy said in a voice filled with faked coldness.
Hermione stumbled forward; she tripped on a shoe that lay on the ground.
He caught her by the shoulder, forcing back a chuckle, "Granger," said Malfoy in an impatient voice, "Come on, let's go."
Hermione stumbled alongside him, tripping often, but slowly coming to her senses. The evening had become cooler, and the breezy air seemed to have woken her up.
"Where is your tent Granger?" Malfoy asked, turning to her.
"Emm… I don't remember," she said while yawning.
Malfoy rolled his eyes, "Well then what the hell I am supposed to DO then?" Malfoy thought to himself.
Hermione was running a hand through her hair: she was still in a dreamlike state. She looked dreamily around at her surroundings, and her eyes fell on Malfoy. She stared at him with wide eyes.
Malfoy blinked, unable to understand her actions.
An absolutely mischievous thought flicked through Malfoy's mind. He was, after all, the most impulsive person who attended Hogwarts, so he decided to act on it.
He walked toward her, studying her trancelike face. She looked at him distantly, an expression that he had never seen on her face. He moved his hand toward her face, brushing her hair aside, to better see her eyes.
That was where she appeared to become aware of what she was doing. Something flicked beneath inside her eyes, "Jesus, Malfoy. What the hell are you doing?" Malfoy simply looked at her, "Take me to the front of the campground."
"You'll never make it, you're half asleep."
"Why do you care?" Hermione said acidly.
Malfoy rolled his eyes and marched toward the front, fuming.
He had never been rejected before; girls had always taken his kisses willingly, and given him anything he wanted. Thoughts like these followed him all the way to the front of the campground.
They emerged from the row of tents they had walked down and saw the campground owner's home. The revelers who still remained were now completely drunk, to the point where they stumbled around, singing song lyrics incorrectly.
Malfoy turned to look at her. She still looked tired, but he knew she was awake, for she glared at him in distaste.
"Well, thank you very much, Malfoy" Hermione said quietly, "Despite the diversions, I'm glad I've found my way."
Malfoy shrugged, "It's not like I saved you from a burning building."
Hermione nodded and turned back down another row of tents. Malfoy watched her retreating back, sighing to himself. He turned to walk slowly back to his tent, feeling a bizarre sinking feeling pressing down upon him.
Hermione arrived at her tent and flung herself into her bed, not even caring to undress. She could hardly remember the past hour, but she had a vague idea of what happened: it seemed surreal.
Ginny came stumbling in, exhilarated from her partying.
"Hermione!" Ginny trilled.
Hermione shushed her and raised her eyebrows, "What?"
"Guess who I just got my first kiss from?" She giggled.
"I don't know. You were with three boys," Hermione said in an exasperated tone.
"I got it from Seamus' cousin, Fergus," (Hermione sighed. Of course she had gotten it from someone who was way too old for her), "He's AMAZING, Hermione! I need to date an older boy! Wow!" Ginny flung herself into a chair, placing a hand on her forehead, "I feel lightheaded. Is that natural?"
"I suppose," said Hermione irritably.
Ginny turned to look at her, "Have you ever been kissed?"
Hermione looked at Ginny and said, "No."
"Oh. Well, you'll get yours soon enough," Ginny said happily, "And make sure you get it from an older boy, they're WAY better."
"Okay, Ginny…" Hermione yawned.
Ginny giggled and bounced off to her bed.
"Do you plan on dating him?" Hermione asked, feigning interest.
"Oh, well, no," Ginny said, smile faltering, "I asked him where we were going to go with this. He said he has a girlfriend," Hermione scoffed audibly, "So, whatever. I'm free for the school year!"
Hermione sighed, "Only you would bounce back that quickly from a romantic letdown."
Ginny laughed and threw the covers over herself, shifting around to make herself more comfortable.
Hermione turned to look up at the ceiling, seeing the golden trails of leprechauns flying above the tent. She thought of Malfoy advancing toward her. She remembered his thin lips, how they parted slightly as he moved toward her. She liked seeing his mouth in this appealing position, not when it was shaped in a sneer.
Then her mind raced toward her conversation with Ginny: it was true, she had never been kissed. Never even close.
Then realization swooped down on her, like the breezy winds that had almost awoken her just a half an hour ago. Draco Malfoy had almost been her first kiss. She sighed in appreciation of this narrow dodge. She could not allow something like that to ever happen.
Even if she did want to kiss him.