Summary: Draco and Hermione have a secret, and he wants to tell, but she doesn't. What is it?? Draco/Hermione, Harry/Ginny, and some Ron/Hermione.
AU: Harry, Ron, and Hermione do attend Hogwarts their seventh year. McGonagall is headmistress.
Disclaimer: Character's and basic plot belong to J.K. Rowling. I only own this little mini-plot confection.
"No," Hermione whispered to Draco Malfoy, the two of them sitting in the Prefects compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Ron was watching, but he seemed oddly unconcerned, which Hermione was grateful for.
She discreetly slipped Draco a piece of parchment: I told you, we can't.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Come off it, Granger." He said at a normal volume, as if to show Pansy Parkinson that Hermione was simply bothering him about something petty. He'd achieved his goal; Parkinson smirked at Hermione, and Hermione got up and sat next to Ron instead.
"How much longer until we can leave?" Hermione asked Ron desperately, though he did not seem to recognize an issue. "I mean…Harry said he had to talk us about something, didn't he?"
"I don't remember that," Ron said, bewildered. "Besides, he's perfectly happy off with Ginny." The look on Ron's face as he said this showed that he would have preferred if Harry was off happy with someone else, anyone else.
"What, Granger, can't stand five minutes away from precious Potter?" Pansy said nastily. To Hermione's annoyance, Draco smirked. She glared at him. "I'm sure he's fine, getting off with the Weasley girl." She glanced at Ron, who rolled his eyes and tried to look unconcerned.
"What, Weasley?" Draco drawled lazily, Pansy stroking his hair. "Can't stand that Potter's finally getting a bit of action and you're still lonely as ever? Pity you can't at least get Granger. I thought she'd be an easy target."
Ron had balled his fists in anger. "Shove off, Malfoy." He snarled.
"Really, Weasley, you've got to be the only seventh year not getting anything right now. Shouldn't have ditched that girl last year, should you? Lilac Brown? Whatever her name was."
Hermione glared at him pointedly. "Draco, a word in the corridor?"
Draco shrugged. Ron looked both confused and irritated, Pansy a little disappointed, but Draco followed Hermione into the corridor of the train all the same.
"Now really!" Hermione said, still minding herself to be quiet. "Was all of that really necessary?"
"Well, yeah," Draco replied. "I mean, since you said you—"
"You know why!" Hermione said urgently. "And there's no need to go and say how I'm an easy target just because I won't let you have your way on this. Honestly, Draco, what would your own friends say? Parkinson? What about her?"
"So what?" Draco said impatiently. "She'd be off doing Crabbe or Goyle in a minute, she doesn't care! She's probably do Weasley if he asked her."
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "That's fine taste you have."
Draco scoffed. "Look at your own choices. Weasley? Really, Granger? Even for a filthy mudblood, I was sure you could do better than Weasley."
"There's nothing wrong with Ron!" Hermione said fiercely.
"Drop it, Hermione," Draco said finally. "You said no, so things go back to normal. Which means I insult you, and Weasley, and Potter. Your choice, not mine," he added, a bit regretfully.
He walked back into the compartment, leaving Hermione standing alone, feeling a bit regretful herself. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she should have said yes. She shook her head. No, there was no way.
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