The Other Side of InterHouse Affairs
(Or more commonly known as The Revenge of Hermione Granger)
Summary: If things had been different, Hermione Granger would find herself convincing one certain Draco Malfoy to be her date at Slughorn's party. (not entirely HBP compliant) HGDM.
AN: If, for a moment, you forget that in the HP series, Hermione is really destined to Ron, then maybe, just maybe, this plot might work out. And beware: Much fighting between our lovely couple, swearing, and OOCness ahead. Oh, and fluff too.
…………………………
It was a known fact that Draco Malfoy lived to taunt Hermione Granger. Yet during days when the whole exchanging of insults becomes tediously boring (after all, how many times can one call someone "ferret" or "mudblood" until one tires of it?), he simply avoided her. He never went near the library because she lived there. He never went near her during Potions and Care of Magical Creatures because she was with Potter and Weasley, who were twice annoying than she could be. He never went near her during meal times at the Great Hall because he felt that he might choke on his food due to her muggle heritage. However, it was not a known fact that on this particular day, Draco Malfoy avoided Hermione Granger for reasons completely other than her blood and her tiresome campaign for house elf rights. He avoided her simply because she was everywhere.
"Malfoy!"
Startled, he jumped back a little from behind the hospital wing curtains strategically positioned beside the bed of a sickly-looking first year, the spot where he had been hiding for the last fifteen minutes. Turning to look at the person in front of him, Draco tried to paste a rather forced, innocent smile on his face, and failed successfully. For one thing, he was so used from scowling or sneering since his childbirth that the very action of smiling strained all his muscles; for another, he was never really innocent to begin with.
"Oh," Draco said, his disappointed tone masked in several layers of fake gaiety. "It's you, Granger. How, uh, very enchanting to see you here."
But Hermione Granger was far from enchanted. Her usually warm cinnamon eyes were several degrees colder, shooting frosty glares, and her messy, russet curls stuck out in all directions, perhaps due to frustration. "Of course," she snapped and saw Draco's face redden from mild irritation and being caught in the act of hiding from her. "How nice to see you here, in the hospital wing, hiding behind a curtain, when you clearly passed me a note in History of Magic telling me you'd be going to your common room to rest."
Perhaps emboldened by the look of anger in Hermione's face, Draco collected himself and with a straight face, said coolly, "Well, I decided to see Michael Corner's brother instead, seeing as no one seems to want to visit him."
"Lucas? You mean, the Gryffindor first year you bullied before?" Hermione whispered, her eyes narrowed.
Draco's innocent act crumbled. He tried explaining to the brunette one more time, this time trying to invent another more reasonable excuse, but words failed him the moment he saw the look on Hermione's face.
"Oh, honestly, Draco! Just admit it. You were avoiding me!" Hermione managed to say, her voice trembling a little, and she looked at him accusingly. In that moment, he hated her for easily being able to create a spark of conscience in his otherwise cold heart simply by being her own genuine self. Because Draco, for all his pride as a notorious Slytherin and Malfoy heir, was more inclined to be soft whenever Hermione called him by his first name. But the worst part was – Hermione knew it too, and often used it to her advantage. Therefore, it was only natural for Draco to hate her.
"Granger…"
Hermione continued as if she never heard him speak. "Just because I was trying to convince you to…" She stared at him for a very long time. "Why won't you just go?"
Draco sighed and sat down on one of the empty beds in the almost empty hospital wing. He slapped his forehead with his hand and felt like regretting ever pursuing a romantic relationship with a bookworm (a beautiful bookworm, he thought) who had been the subject of many of his cruel jokes. Moreover, she was also the best friend of both his greatest arch-nemesis and a son of one of the most well known enemies of the Malfoys.
It was only last year, during their fifth year when people were too busy studying for OWLS to notice their other peers, that he really saw Hermione Granger as a real human being, and not as a walking encyclopedia or an ugly beast.
It was a cool afternoon, the kind of afternoon when people would most likely be inside the castle and bum around in their common rooms, and he was walking by the lake and saw something that made him immediately drop his things. It was Potter's best friend (the other best friend), who appeared to be drowning in the lake. Well, at least, that was what he saw. In a sudden act of goodness that surprised both of them, Draco dove into the water, shirt and all, and proceeded to rescue her, only to find out that, well, she wasn't really drowning after all.
After that, things just started changing. Hate turned to insults, insults turned to awkwardness, and awkwardness turned to civility. They did not know how or why, but on that day when Draco proved to her that he was as capable of having values as the rest of them, they forgot all about being in different rival houses. At first it was Hermione who made the first bold move, the most important of all moves, and tried to befriend the atrocious Slytherin. And Draco's mean streak, in turn, doubled; as if by doing that, he was trying to prove to himself that he was not affected by anything. But after much persuasion in Hermione's part, they became secret friends.
More secret meetings at hidden sections in the library occurred between the two of them, and their relationship blossomed from one of friendship to romance. The self-doubt Draco had about his family's loyalties and beliefs started to emerge, and Hermione's prejudice and comtempt for the Slytherins was questioned until finally, these were overcome and they became a couple.
Draco usually liked to think of his very intriguing romance history whenever plagued by boredom, or when he had another petty fight with the intelligent Gryffindor. He remembered the way he courted her (he told her, after having been rejected a hundred times, that one more "no" and he would kidnap her – he would tie her to his Nimbus 2001 and whisk her off to Malfoy Manor) and also wondered how long this secret relationship could last. Not that he wanted it to.
But of course, it was Hermione who wanted it differently. Ever since the first few weeks of their sixth year, when Harry started suspecting Malfoy as a Death Eater, she had been convincing (more like tormenting) him to make their relationship made known to the public. He could not understand her motives well, other than the fact that she was concerned with him (who would not, when one's very own best friend had started hiring house-elves to stalk one's boyfriend?), and maybe she felt so enamored with him that she could no longer contain herself in public. Or maybe that was just his ego speaking.
Well, whatever the case may be, Draco found it extremely unimportant and foolish to tell the whole population of Hogwarts, one that housed traditional stand-offish Slytherins and hormonal females who either worshipped or secretly admired him, that he was currently dating a girl, much less a Gryffindor for almost a year. After all, he did not need Trelawney's stupid classes to know that once he did, both Hermione and him would be brutally slaughtered.
Although Draco Malfoy had his stubborn side, he was no match for Hermione Granger. Recently, she had devised a plan to show everyone where their loyalties both lie. The moment she received the invitation to Professor Slughorn's party and the requirement to bring a date, she was immediately certain that bringing Draco to the event would be perfect. Whenever they were in the middle of a snog session, she would skillfully bring up the topic about the party. Whenever they were in class, she would send him meaningful looks or little notes that said "Come on! Go with me!" And whenever they strolled near the lake at unnatural hours in the evening, she would tell him something along the lines of "Did you know that Slughorn's inviting a vampire to the party?"
To put it quite simply, it was driving Draco insane.
"Draco, it's just a party, for goodness' sake," Hermione told him, trying once again to test Draco's patience.
"Just a party?" Draco cried out as he ran his hands through his blond tresses. "Why are you so hell-bent on making me attend? Don't you know that I'm so sick of you passing me notes during classes to convince me to go? And, fuck! For the past few days, I've done nothing but hide from you because you distract me so much I don't have room for almost anything anymore!"
"It's not just a party, Draco. Don't you want us to do something publicly, other than bickering and pretending to hate each other's guts?"
Draco sighed once more and felt his anger drain at Hermione's calmness. "Look, Hermione, if you think that I'm not giving you enough attention (as if sacrificing some Quidditch practices for snogging time isn't enough), you can just tell me and I'll arrange for an illegal visit at Hogsmeade even before our trip there next week," he proposed.
Hermione rolled her eyes at the way her boyfriend's mind work. "It's not that. How many times do I have to tell you?" she said. "I'm just…I'm just worried about you, that's all. I don't like it when Harry and Ron make you their scapegoat. You don't deserve that…"
"Stop being so dramatic."
"Only if you stop being so damn insensitive! How do you think I feel when both my best friends think you're a murderer? They thought you were the one who sent the necklace to Katie. Hell, they even think you're a Death Eater! And I want so much for me to tell them that 'No, he's not! He's not a murderer!' but they would only think you're using the Imperius on me!" she bellowed, eyes glassy. She was so sick of Draco's reaction to the whole situation. She even suspected that he thought the whole "following his father's footsteps" theory was funny.
"Bloody hell, woman!" Draco yelled. "I can understand your concern, but what the fuck is your problem? Is it your time of the month or what, because you're driving me nuts!"
Hermione was so incensed that she had to use all of her self-control to stop herself from punching the living daylights out of her boyfriend. She did it once when they were in third year, and in times like this, she would be most willing to do it again. "See what I mean by being insensitive?" she shouted back, face red. "You are such an stupid, arrogant prick who only thinks about himself! I can't believe that I'm committed to such a retard!"
"Who the hell are you calling a retard, Oh Burning Bush?"
"That's it!" Hermione said at the top of her lungs, not even caring that any moment, Madame Pomfrey would come investigating for the source of the noise, and would no doubt reprimand them, or worse, give them a detention for disturbing her patients.
Her hands were balled into tight fists, and she was so angry that all she could see was red. She gave Draco at stony glare that considerably made the temperature in the room drop and said stiffly, "If you are too ashamed to go to the party with me, then fine. See if I care. And don't you dare talk or approach me if you don't have any real good motive or I will personally see to it that you would be humiliated for the rest of your life."
"Hey, wait just a –" Draco was about to call and go after her but she was too quick. The door slammed heavily and from the confines of the hospital bed, the small first year stirred in his sleep but did not wake. And a few seconds after Hermione's dramatic exit, Madame Pomfrey came bustling in.
"Mister Malfoy! Such loud behavior! It's bound to wake the patients up!" Madame Pomfrey said sternly, as though the thought of waking the patients was something too much to bear. "You do not come into this room slamming doors and talking to yourself in high and low pitched voices! It's a sign of insanity. Schizophrenia, more like. It must have been developed during those hours of practicing that tedious sport, Quidditch! And I always told Dumbledore that having such barbaric and dangerous events should be prohibited! But did he listen?"
Madame Pomfrey continued with her rants, while Draco, caught in the wrong time at the wrong place, could do nothing but stay and watch the mediwitch's face purple with rage about Quidditch, all the while cursing Hermione for humiliating him like this. Although he planned on finding her later, he wasn't too worried, since her fits usually lasted only for a few hours. No doubt, by the end of the day, she would be once again speaking to him.
Oh, how wrong he was.
…………………………
"Hermione, will you please stop pacing the room while we're playing wizard's chess? It's a bit distracting."
Hermione glared at Harry Potter from her position near the windowsill. Immediately, Harry got the message, shrugged, and went back to playing chess with Ron, who was now moving his knight to E3, and was about to win for the fourth time ina row. Both men were wise enough to know that another comment about their friend's dark mood and they would be subject to a hysterical rant and a lecture, which, obviously, they did not want to happen.
Hermione, on the other hand, was busy trying to think of the many ways that she could exact her revenge on Draco because contrary to popular belief, this time she would not easily forget about their argument. She needed to teach him a lesson to respect females' rights and their feelings, and she would do it, even if it meant not talking to him for days, even if it meant her gut twisting at the very thought of not interacting with him.
Finally, she decided on something. Still on the same day, during Herbology, she tried so hard to casually ask Ron to be her date to Slughorn's party because she knew that apart from Harry, Draco hated his guts and would, therefore, be downright pissed at the thought of Hermione spending time with him instead.
She considered the risks, and even if she felt guilty for using Ron, she knew that his jealousy to be included in something that Hermione and Harry was part of would drive him to say "Yes". And she was right. So on the way to the Great Hall for lunch, she made sure to wear a large, pleased smile on her face, so large, in fact, that it would be impossible for Draco, who was at the far end of the hall, not to see it.
Every time she ate, drank, spoke and laughed with her fellow Gryffindors, she felt a pair of intense gray eyes watching her. And she knew that he knew that she knew that he was watching her. But she made no move to meet his gaze. Instead, she ate with an instant vigor, stabbing her fork on the sausages and imagining them to be Draco's fingers.
"Slow down, will you, Hermione? You look as though you're mad enough to eat the rest of us," Ron teased, earning a chuckle from Harry and Ginny, who sat on the opposite side of the table across from Hermione. Ron appeared to have recovered from the shock and embarrassment of Hermione asking him to be her date at Slughorn's party (as friends, of course), and had now taken to teasing her, just like he would any other day.
Aware of Draco's eyes still on her, she smiled knowingly. "At least I'm not like Snake boy over there," she said, and at the mention of Draco, all of them turned to look at him, "He appears to have swallowed a whole large pack of sour grapes. No wonder he looks so constipated." She felt something inside her throb at the jibe she made, yet she fought against it and joined her friends in their merry laughing.
"I don't know what's gotten into you today, Hermione, with your bad moods and asking Ron and all that, but you sure say the cruelest things that sound so funny when you put your mind to it," Harry told her pleasantly, as though hoping that she would say something like that again.
The cruelest things indeed, Hermione thought as she finally braved a glance at a fuming Draco. He has no idea of what's in store for him.
…………………………
Meanwhile, at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy was so furious that he looked as red as a lobster. His Quidditch trained hands had a strong grip on his eating utensils that it did not surprise him if later on in the meal he might break it. The look he shot the Golden Trio was so deadly that even Pansy, the densest woman wizarding Britain ever had, could feel it coming off him in waves. In fact, he was so angry that had no teachers been present at lunch, he would have maimed the parsimonious Weasel using his knife. Because quite a few minutes before lunch, an extremely satisfied Pansy proudly shared to him the latest gossip that Hermione Granger had asked the redhead to next week's party.
I will damage him so hard that by the time I'm through, his parents won't even have the money to send him to St. Mungo's, the gray-eyed man thought furiously as he bit a piece of his chicken so hard that he felt his jaw muscles protest in agony.
"Draco?" His companion, Crabbe, who was about as dense as Pansy, called him. "Why are you staring at the mudblood?"
"Because I bloody well hate her!" Draco exclaimed in a voice that held no room for further discussion. And this time, he was telling the truth. He hated her for being so smart, for being so damned good at planning revenge, and for having such a stubborn personality that she would rather go with her friend to a party than scream her head off and beg her boyfriend to take her there instead. Not that she haven't tried the latter, but still, she could have at least glanced at him instead of pretending as if Draco did not exist. Because as Draco's mind correctly remembered, for the past months when they had been acquainted as friends and lovers, whenever Draco stared at her, she never failed to smile at him so secretly that only he could see it.
"Oh," Goyle said monotonously. "But there's no need to shout at Crabbe."
Draco, who was so testy that even a brainless comment from his lackeys could upset him, shouted, "And who the hell are you to tell me what or what not to do?"
Several heads turned in his direction, but with a pointed glare, they all went back to eating. But then, he saw, from the far corner of his eye, that Hermione was standing up to leave, no doubt to get to the library for some last minute reading, and an idea came to mind.
"I'm going out," he announced to his friends. However, at the questioning look from Blaise Zabini, he added, "For some fresh air."
Making sure that he was several feet from her, Draco quietly followed Hermione as she briskly walked towards the direction of the library. When they came upon a corridor where there were no other students in sight, he ran and made a grab for her. Knowing that she was about to scream, he clamped a hand on her mouth, gritting his teeth as he felt her sharp teeth sinking in his flesh, all the while dragging her protesting form inside an empty classroom and locking the door. Once they were inside, he let go of her and prepared for a heavy stream of cursing and name-callings.
"Malfoy! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Hermione demanded, her eyes blazing and her posture so stiff that he could tell just how mad she was.
"I'll tell you that once you tell me why you have been avoiding me," Draco said just as irately.
"But just a while ago you had had no problems when you were the one avoiding me," Hermione replied crossly, arms folded on her chest. "Besides, you very well know what's the problem so don't you yell at me!"
Draco rubbed at his now swollen hand and inwardly seethed as he saw the half-moon marks on his otherwise pale, unblemished skin. "How can I not when you come barging into the Great Hall with your ridiculously large smile and Weasley plastered to your side like some love-sick bodyguard? And why the hell did you bite me?" he yelled.
"You deserved that," Hermione spat.
"I don't believe you! And why in the seven seas of hell did you ask Weasley, of all people, to go with you to Slughorn's equally stupid party? Are you out of your mind? Don't you know that he would pay more attention to the food than to you? Don't you know that he would stand there looking like a garbage can with his hand-me-down rags, his disgusting hair, and all the freckles on his face that make him look like someone afflicted with measles? He would just abandon you, do you hear me? Where the hell is your sense of taste?"
Hermione smirked as she saw the pink tinge on Draco's cheeks. She could practically taste his jealousy. "If I have bad taste it must be because I like you," she said composedly. "Besides, I can't help it if you're jealous."
Draco flushed. "I am not jealous! Malfoys are never jealous!" he retorted.
"Oh, really? Could've fooled me," Hermione said, her smirk deepening at her boyfriend's discomfort.
"But that doesn't explain why you still asked the Weasel!"
"Well, he is my friend. Plus, you told me you would never go with me, and I could hardly go alone, now, can I?" Hermione answered, and added as an afterthought, as though to further make him angry, "And, of course, I couldn't deny that he's quite good-looking."
"I'm your boyfriend, for Merlin's sake!" Draco said, appalled. "And just because I told you I don't want to come doesn't mean…doesn't mean you get to pick Weasley…bloody brute…he's so violent…he'll just hurt you…laugh at you…" He was so sick with jealousy, even though he would never admit it to Hermione. He even had to contain himself in order to stop the urge to rip his hair off right in front of her.
"Don't worry, I won't need you because I can perfectly take care of myself," Hermione assured him, and she bit her lip to keep herself from laughing at the rage painted on Draco's face.
"That's not the point! I –"
"If that is all," Hermione suddenly interrupted as she stood up to leave. She pretended to look at him disapprovingly. "I would like to get to the library and prepare for my next class. I have already wasted enough time on you."
"Sit down! We're not yet through here!" Draco commanded, standing up to follow her, but what he got in response was the loud banging of the door and the clicking of Hermione's heels as she made a mad dash to get away from him.
Draco cursed loudly because for the second time that day, Hermione Granger walked out on him.
…………………………
Loud music reverberated around the well-lit room. Decorations were lavish and splendidly hung on walls and tapestries. For a party that was supposed to be private, there sure were a lot of people. There were former Hogwarts students, Ministry officials, shop owners from both Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, and there even was, true to the rumors, a hungry looking vampire named Sanguini. In the center of it all was Slughorn, large belly in place and rambunctious laughter steadily rising with each person he encounters.
Meanwhile, Hermione Granger, Gryffindor prefect, bookaholic and current girlfriend to the most known villain in Hogwarts, stood hiding behind three tall witches who appeared to be genuinely absorbed about the latest gossip in wizarding London. Her back was pressed against the hard stonewall, and she appeared to be perspiring and having trouble breathing from the effort of keeping herself hidden.
Now I know how Draco feels whenever he tries to avoid me, she thought grimly as she watched the witches in front of her share an amused laugh.
But she inwardly lectured herself that now is not the time to think about Draco, because thinking about Draco would mean thinking about their petty little fight, and thinking about that would lead her to thinking about her revenge, which in turn would make her think about why she was here - sweating terribly, hair and dress robes ruined – without Ron, and why, she was concentrating mightily on avoiding a certain almost Gryffindor Quidditch player, Cormac McLaggen.
"Rough, hot tempered Cormac McLaggen, of all people?" Hermione thought heatedly to herself. "Karma is really out to get me. And if Draco ever gets winds of this, which no doubt, he would have, sooner or later, he'd laugh at me so terribly that I'd be forced to personally drown and present him to the Giant Squid."
She sighed. Hermione had rare times of having admitted to herself that she was wrong about something, but right now was one of those times. Really, she had been an absolute fool for thinking up plans on revenge to a certain blonde haired ferret and naturally, she had never expected that she would land date to Cormac McLaggen. It was not like her at all. A few days ago, however, she had had the misfortune of arguing with Ron (and it was rightful assumption to say that they still hadn't made up), which meant that she was, once again, dateless to Slughorn's party.
Fortunately, or unfortunately for her (it depends on how one views her situation), she overheard a rather interesting conversation between Slytherins Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott, wherein the former had been telling the latter about Draco Malfoy's complaints and grudge to McLaggen for reasons unknown. Needless to say, Plan B to the Operation Piss Off Draco Malfoy And At The Same Time Show Everyone His Undying Affections For Me (as Hermione undoubtfully named) was formed.
Not that Hermione was particularly happy about it.
"Hermione!" Her body involuntarily jerked as she felt someone's hand touch her shoulder.
She was visibly relieved when she found out that it was only Harry. "Oh! You gave me quite a fright!" she told him, her hand flying up to her chest to further emphasize her point.
Harry grinned lopsidedly and stared at her in confusion. "Sorry. But what are you doing in this corner of the room?" he asked her.
Hermione's anger returned and her lips turned down into a scowl. "Oh, I was hiding from Cormac McLaggen. You wouldn't believe the things that guy could and would be willing to do! Twice he tried to hit on me while we were on our way here, and another time he went on talking about himself as if there was nothing more that would interest me than to hear his life story and how a famous actress personally told him of his handsome qualities," she revealed angrily.
"He must've hit himself many times with a bat and dreamt the whole thing," Harry quipped, laughing at the wild, unsuppressed anger on his friend's face.
"By the way, you didn't happen to see him looking for me, did you?" Hermione asked, just in case.
Harry shook his head. "No, although I did see Malfoy lurking a few corridors away on my way here. He looked really upset and determined about something, and I was about to follow him but I heard Filch coming," he told her, suspicion written on features.
Again, Hermione felt like she needed to defend his honor. "He was just probably on his way to blackmail some first year," she said in what she hoped would be a casual voice.
Harry did not seem convinced, and he was about to say something to contradict her when Filch's voice boomed around the room, putting a stop to all other conversations as the people gathered inside stared to look at him. He was holding someone, a very familiar pale skinned someone (and Hermione's eyes widened as she took in the sight of Draco), by the elbow, and was dragging him towards the spot where Slughorn and Snape were having a conversation about a newly developed potion.
Hermione, with Harry at her heels, pushed through the crowd to see him better, and they froze in their seats as they heard Draco's arrogant, sneering voice.
"Let me go! Let me go, you filthy savage!" He was heard to be saying.
"Now, now, Mister Malfoy. There is no need to resort to that kind of language," Slughorn reprimanded as he brandished a glass of half-filled wine in his direction.
Snape, ever sour and sallow looking as ever, addressed Filch. "What is the matter here, Filch?" he drawled.
Filch appeared to brighten at the professor's question, and he smiled, exposing rows of yellow, foul-looking teeth. "As you can see quite clearly, sir, this boy," he shook Draco by his robes, "was trying to sneak inside the room looking very suspicious. Very suspicious indeed, that when I found him I immediately thought that he was up trying to pull on pranks or something equally bad."
Snape raised an eyebrow. "And to my knowledge, you, Draco, are not invited to this party, are you not?" he asked, although stated was more like it.
Hermione's heart went out to Draco as she saw his cheeks color from the disapproval clearly painted on his House Head's face. "No, I was not," he admitted in a whisper, and for a moment, he caught Hermione's eye and stared at her. Hard.
Slughorn, seeing things are started to tense up and most likely result in the ruining of his party, decided to intervene. "Now, Severus," he gave Snape a look that was supposed to be stern but failed to affect the Potion's master, "There's no need to be so harsh on the boy. Why, when I was the Head of House of Slytherin before, I was very well loved. My students, even those from other houses, did not dislike me so for my fairness and rightful judgment. I remember, that Gryffindor seventh year student that I had, what's her name –"
Snape rudely interrupted him. "And your point, Horace?" he said, the disdain very obvious in his tone.
"Oh, of course, of course, so sorry I forgot," Slughorn, who was not deterred at all, replied with a laugh. "Anyway, what I really intended for you to say is that Mister Malfoy here deserve no such thing as a detention. After all, there was no harm done. He's only a boy who wants to have fun at a party he was not invited to, jealous fellow, by the looks of it…" Here, Draco shot him a murderous look, "So really, we should just let him stay and there, problem solved!" Slughorn even had the decency to smile.
Snape looked as though he was about to say something vile, but swallowed it and said instead, "Very well." With that, Draco was left to his own devices, which meant that…
"Hermione, run!" Hermione told herself, eyes wide as she watched Draco gave her a predatory look. She knew that look. It was the look on Draco Malfoy's face whenever he was thinking about doing something reckless and totally un-Malfoy like. It was also the same look whenever he wanted something and is very determined to achieve it, no matter the consequences.
Hermione slowly stepped back, bumping a few people in the process, including Harry. "Harry!" she said breathlessly. "Quick, hide me!" She gave him a pleading look but it was too late. From the corner of her eye, she saw Draco pushing through the crowd of people to get to her. His appearance was of nothing but calmness, and this was what frightened her the most.
"What's the matter, Hermione?" Harry asked worriedly, peering at his frantic best friend through his glasses.
"Harry, I -"
"Hermione!"
After that, things happened so fast that Hermione felt her head spinning as a new wave of shock came over her. Draco managed to reach her and grabbed her wrist in the process, pulling her towards him in one swift motion. He took advantageof her parted lips and, with the hundreds of gasps of everyone present around the room, he kissed her. Just like in the movies, but not quite.
Hermione, meanwhile, left all coherent thoughts behind once she felt Draco's body heat and the pressure crushing against her lips. She felt as though they were in another one of their secret clandestine meetings in the Astronomy Tower or the Room of Requirement, and it was so easy to forget that dozens of people, including Slughorn and even vindicating Snape, were watching her. In fact, she stopped caring about everything – their fight, her revenge – except for the fact that she did not want to stop.
Unfortunately, their first brief public snogging session was cut short by the disbelieving voice of one of the few people in Hermione's life that actually matter – Harry Potter.
"Bloody hell! Hermione…" was all The-Boy-Who-Lived could say as his eyes went as round as saucers.
Hermione disentangled herself from Draco, who was now glaring fiercely at anyone he thought was whispering behind him, as though daring him or her to object their very scandalous action. "Harry, I can explain," she tried to tell her best friend.
"Good, because I want to know what's really going on. First, you ask Ron to this party, and then McLaggen, and now I find out you're kissing Malfoy, Draco the bloody Bouncing Ferret Malfoy, willingly," Harry said, his voice a mixture of emotions. He looked as though he had just swallowed a hippogriff and was now blaming someone else for its bad taste.
Hermione did not know what to say, because, naturally, she came to this party not knowing that her best friend would soon question her about her amorous relationship with their sworn enemy. Finally, she just decided on telling him the truth. "What this really means is that Draco and I-" She stopped at the glare Harry was sending her.
"So now it's Draco, is it?" He snapped.
"Why, of course, Potter," interrupted the drawling, cultured voice of Draco. He took Hermione's hand in his, which the audience did not fail to miss, and even though he smirked at Harry, Hermione could feel his nervousness as he squeezed her hand hard. "Only a fool like you would be so blind as to not see that the conscientious Miss Granger and I are lovers."
The crowd gasped again at this bold pronouncement. From the corner of her eye, Hermione noticed that Slughorn looked delighted and intrigued, and Snape, ever nasty Snape, was green from head to toe and was close to vomiting. Only Luna, Harry's official date for the party, looked quite unperturbed, but then again, it was Luna, nothing new.
"What?" Harry was everything that his date was. The comical expression of anger, disbelief and shock on his face was a change from his usual calm, brooding demeanor.
"H…Harry, look, I-"
"What Hermione means, of course, is that if you may excuse us, Potter, we are about to go. We have some serious discussing to do," Draco interrupted again, and with another smirk, and with Hermione's hand still in his, they walked out, ignoring the loud exclamations of the people in the room.
…………………………
Once they were safely in the confine of their favorite meeting place, Hermione released her hand from Draco's tight grip and faced him, her face flushed from the night's confrontation. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come, and Draco directed his smirk at her. But on her second try, she shocked him with the shrill force of her voice.
"Draco Malfoy! What in the name of all things holy was that?"
Draco had the audacity to laugh at her. "Just being a good boyfriend, that's all," he replied cheerfully, for which Hermione stared at him in horror, because she seldom saw him in such a good mood that if she hadn't been with him for almost a year, she would've thought that someone was doing a poor impersonation of him through Polyjuice potion.
"You…"
"Damn! That felt so good," he added with a roguish grin. "And did you see the expression on Potter's face?"
Hermione glared at him. "That's nothing to be happy about, because if you haven't noticed, he's not too happy with me and would probably stop talking to me for weeks!" she told him.
Draco was hardly deterred. "Good. That means I would have you all to myself, morning till midnight," he said.
"What the hell is your problem? Why are you suddenly acting all – all jolly?"
Draco raised an eyebrow at her loud voice. "And why are you suddenly so angry? Shouldn't you be happy too?" he asked casually. "I mean, this is what you wanted, right? For people to know about us?"
Hermione huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, I wasn't exactly planning on something like what you just did," she said dryly.
"That's because you don't like drama," Draco teased her, as he slung an arm around her shoulders and twirled strands of her dark locks on his fingers.
Hermione twitched her nose at this comment and opted to lean her head on Draco's right shoulder. "Honestly, though, why did you do it?" she asked him quietly. Her hands were laced with his – pale and long and frail- while at the same time, she tilted her chin upwards a little bit so she could clearly see the intensity glowing from his crystal grey eyes.
Draco chuckled at this silly question. "Isn't it obvious, ma belle? I did it because you wanted me to," he replied. "Any problems with that?" And he raised one perfectly arched blond eyebrow.
Hermione found herself smiling at her boyfriend's sweet yet honest-to-goodness answer. She found it unfair that he could easily say something mushy while making sure it sounds so like his usual tones – sarcastic, sneering and drawling. She circled Draco's waist with her right arm and for a while, both individuals stayed there for a while, content to be with each other after such a silly yet long fight.
Finally, Hermione broke the silence. "God, I've missed you, Draco," she told him softly. "And even if it means running the risk of your ego inflating further, I'll tell you now that I still like you, prat and all."
"You sure?"
Hermione disentangled herself from Draco and stared at him, suspicion clearly displayed on her face. There was something about the way Draco asked her that was not so comforting, especially since said person was now trying his hardest not to meet her probing gaze. "Why?" she asked. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
Draco grinned cheekily at her. This further heightened Hermione's suspicions, since Draco only used his heart-melting smiles to the full extent if he wanted to get away with something. Unfortunately for him, Hermione did not plan on letting him do such a thing. "Draco, boyfriend or no, if you don't tell me right now what is it you're hiding from me, I'm going to transfigure you into a roach and flush you down the toilet," she growled.
"My, you're being quite creative today."
"Stop changing the subject!"
"Very well, I'll spill. I just reckon that you won't be too pleased with me once you heard what I did to McLaggen, who was searching for you, by the way, when I saw him on my way to crash Slughorn's party."
Hermione gasped. After being "acquainted" (here she was using the term very loosely) with Draco Malfoy for almost a year, she was very much aware of him and his sadistic ways. She knew that despite his inner softness and innate goodness to her, above all things, he was a Slytherin. A very influencial, respected Slytherin to be exact. "Draco, what did you do?" she asked, although a part of her was fearful to know the answer.
Draco did not know how to react. At first he was amused at the way Hermione stared at him in horror, but at the same time, he really did fear her reaction once he told her of his actions. He did not want another fight to break out, after all. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're mighty concerned about McLaggen," he told her instead.
"Draco…"
"Alright, fine. I tied him to the highest Quidditch goal post in nothing but his boxing shorts." He stopped at the outrage and shock on his girlfriend's face. "Don't worry. Hey! I said don't worry! Potter and the rest of his sodding Gryffindor team would find him during their practice, so don't you worry, I –"
"Draco, practice is not until the day after tomorrow!" Hermione said shrilly.
Draco gulped. "Maybe that oaf Hagrid will find him then…" he started.
"Hagrid is not an oaf! Oh, I cannot believe you!"
"Fine, just Hagrid then. And Hermione, don't worry, it's gonna be fine."
"Fine? You just left an innocent person out in the cold, for goodness' sake! Who knows what could happen to him? He could die of hypothermia, hunger or even from fear of heights!"
"Hermione, I hardly think that McLaggen, being capable of playing Quidditch, would be afraid of heights."
"That's not the point! Hell, Draco, is there nothing good that you could do?"
"Hey! Just a while ago you were telling me how much you like me! Bloody hell, woman, make up your mind!"
"That's IT, Draco! I am so not gonna talk to you!"
"Wait just a sodding minute –" Bang. Draco was suddenly left to his own devices. He groaned. Here we go again.
…………………………
ma belle means "my beauty" in French
AN: And that's the end, folks. So, what do you think? Don't blame me, I warned you. Now if you could just review…(C'mon! Go make me a happy author!)