Forbidden Touch – Part One

Disclaimer: Surprisingly I don't own these characters, the setting etc. Yes, it is true; I have stolen them for my own evil purposes. Sorry JK. But, this world will be mine, even if it is only for one little story.

A/N: Okay. So this is the 'revised' edition of my first ever fic. I decided that the original didn't 'flow' nicely, so I am changing it ever so slightly. Enjoy.

You may now proceed.

Hermione sat straight up in fright she had been having a nightmare. What was that all about? She thought to herself

Suddenly she was jerked back to earth by the realisation that there was something on the wall in front of her. It was a bug of some sort. Jumping out of her bed, she ran over to the wall and trapped it in the glass that had been sitting conveniently on her nightstand. She put it on the desk. Upon her thorough inspection she found circles around the eyes and a scar on its leg. It was her; it was Rita Skeeter. But why was she in this dorm, had she mistaken it for Harry's dorm? Rita never neglected the opportunity to get any information on him.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she sat down at her desk for a little bit of revision before making her way to breakfast.

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After having crammed her entire bookshelf into her carry bag, she went down to the Great Hall. She saw that Harry and Ron were already stuffing their faces, and, rolling her eyes, she joined them.

"What are you guys doing? Don't you realise how close the exams are?" Hermione was, to say the least, annoyed that they were yet to begin studying. Rightfully so, considering she had been up until 3am one morning organising timetables for them so that had maximum 'leisure' hours with at least 5 hours of homework a day, more on weekends.
"Hermione, the exams aren't until after Christmas break, we have ages." Ron whinged. "If we begin to study now, by the time we start exams we'll have forgotten all that we learnt now. So really, it's for the best." Ron finished, pleased that he had made, what he considered to be, such a convincing argument. Harry looked to Hermione, shrugged as if he agreed simply because he had nothing better to do, and continued eating greedily.

Hermione rolled her eyes once again, and grabbed one of the biggest books out of her bags, 'Pernicious Potions – Level 6'. Looking up from her book to ponder why one would want to make a potion that would kill someone and revive them moments later, she noticed that a certain blonde haired Slytherin was looking at her. His facial expressions did not show malice, or animosity, nor did he show any other signs of emotions. It was a hollow stare, and it sent chills down her spine. Then she remembered the dream, or rather nightmare, to which her premature rousing could be attributed. The memory of it lingered in her brain. Her dream had been about her, surprisingly. She had been in a dark room, there was someone in the room with her, though shadows covered there face. Hermione wondered who they could be. Yet, she was rudely brought out of her trance by what seemed to be a distant calling.
"Hermione?" It turned out to be Harry.
"What?" Hermione said shaking her head and turning to face Harry.
"Do you want some?" he repeated.
"Some, what?" Hermione said, finding it hard to grasp what Harry was saying. She saw the lips move. She heard sounds come out. Yet, she couldn't work out what he was saying.
"Some toast. What's wrong with you?" Harry asked simply.
"Nothing." Hermione said flatly. Chuckling to herself about the irony. Harry had asked such a simple question, and he had asked it in such a simple way, yet, it led to such a complicated answer.
"I've got to go to the library, sorry, I'll see you in..." she referred to her timetable, "potions" she said, a strange sensation coming over her. It was as though suddenly a spider's nest had hatched in her stomach and the spiders were all running in different directions trying to escape.

She quickly scurried off to her room, not really feeling like studying right now. This was strange, as studying normally relaxed her, gave her a sense of understanding. She sat on her bed, thinking about the morning's events. 'Who was that in the shadows? Why did Draco, or his look, trigger the memory? What was Rita doing in my room?' Deciding that her time would be wasted if she went to Potions, she mustered all her strength and decided to skip class. For most, this was at least a weekly ritual, for Hermione, however, it showed how confused she was. She went to her 'temple', the library.

"Hi Madame Pince. Nice day, isn't it?" she said, in what she hoped was a happy, natural, tone.
"Why, Miss. Granger, I was unaware that you had a spare. Hmm. Must have been my mistake. Sorry, your normal books may have been returned to the shelves, had I known you were coming I would have put them aside for you." Madame Pince said apologetically.
"Oh. Don't worry about it. I wasn't going to come here now, only, I needed time alone." Hermione said relieved. "Anyway, I have brought most of my books with me." She said, patting her overloaded satchel.

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Hermione walked into the Great Hall hoping to be unnoticed. She slowly walked over and sat next to Harry and Ron at the Gryffindor table.
"Hermione." Ron said, acknowledging her presence. "Where were you in potions, there was this really difficult potion we had to brew, and we really needed your help?"
"Oh, sorry. I had to go to Hospital Wing, I had a bit of a headache." She lied, although she was unsure why.
Looking toward the Slytherin table she started talking to Harry. "What do you think they're little 'private meeting' is about this time? The entire group of sixth year Slytherins had gathered around none other than Draco Malfoy. "Maybe they are trying to work out how they can defeat you in this weekend's Quidditch match. I hope you beat them. I couldn't stand if they won Quidditch, especially considering how good the Gryffindor team appears on paper."
Is it my imagination or did Malfoy glance over here. He must be up to something. He's been acting more strangely, if that is possible. she thought to herself.
"Do you want the Potions notes, 'Mione?" Harry asked reaching for his bag.
"Yeh! That'd be great!" Hermione exclaimed. Harry then passed her a pile of parchment from Potions. With that, Hermione bid them goodbye, and went up to her dorm to collect her books for Transfiguration.

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Meanwhile, in the opposite side of the castle, Draco was pacing his room. What the hell did she want? Why did she keep looking at me? It gives me the chills, stupid Mudblood. How dare she look at me. Why does this bother me so much? I must contact her. I have to discover what her look was for, what it meant. But, no-one can know. If it got out that I had contacted a Mudblood, well… it wouldn't be pretty.
With that, Draco went down to the common room, grabbed a piece of parchment and a fine quill, sat down in what he liked to call 'his chair' and began his letter. When he got to the end, he pondered whether he should sign it or not. If the stare meant anything, she would know it was me without my name, if it didn't, she need never know. With that, he read through his letter, put it in an envelope, and wrote on the back, 'Do not open in front of prying eyes.

A/N: Good? Please review. I love reviews. Constructive criticism only. I would really like some ideas on style, etc. Thanks.