Disclaimer: Just the plot. Nothing else. Only the plot. Right, now repeat 100 times.
A/N: Hmm, I'll admit, that humour doesn't play a huge role in this chapter. But I hope you like it anyway :D Also, this is the same day, in the evening, that Chapter 1 took place on.
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Chapter II - Firelight
Hermione re-read the sentence in front of her exactly nineteen times before reluctantly admitting that nothing was going in. She had a four- foot long essay for Professor Flitwick, an Arithmancy chart to work on due for the following week, a three-foot piece on the Deadly Nightshade for Professor Sprout, and an assignment that she had to do with ... No, she refused to even think the name. Her stress levels were doing a tap-dance on her nerves. And not because of the homework. Surprisingly.
Her fingernails drummed a staccato beat against the smooth veneer surface of her working table. The sound echoed in the cold room. Against her will, she glanced at the clock above his door. Again. Funny clock this one. Didn't even show the time. The hands stayed frozen, moving only at certain times. If Hermione's 5-year old cousin was with her, she'd probably ask, "Hermioninny! If the short hand is 'tween twelve and one, and the long hand is at six, what does that mean?" It means that it is very late, and you should be in bed.
Her irritation emanated from her, and when he walked through that portrait hole, she was going to let him have it. Oh yeah, then he'll like the Mudblood.
She heard footsteps outside the Heads' Common Room door. She glanced at the clock, then at her own watch. That couldn't be right. He wasn't expected for at least an hour! Curiosity quirked, she crossed the distance to the door, and thrust it open to see ... nothing.
Strange. She could've sworn she heard ...
Her eyes raked the passage to her left, found nothing, and then to her right, again with the same results. Could she have imagined it? Was she going delusional? Maybe it was all that studying - She quickly dispelled the thought. One could never do too much of studying. She felt a sudden draft, and shivered.
Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, she drew back and closed the door. Rubbing the tiredness away from her eyes, she turned around to head back to her desk, and gasped. Someone else was sitting there. Someone who was shaking with silent laughter.
"Harry! How did you -?" Her eyes fell on his Invisibility Cloak on his lap. Then, recalled that sudden draft. "Ah. You gave me a right shock, you did."
"You should've seen your face! Worth more than Lockhart's when he lost his memory!"
She shot him a look that could wilt a flower.
He grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, couldn't resist."
Hermione rolled her eyes. She marched straight towards him, waving her wand. He ducked, but only to find that all the homework that Hermione had stacked on the table was now floating to her room. The door slammed shut behind it, and a small plop could be heard as the books deposited themselves on her bed.
Standing over him, she asked, "What are you doing in a place you're not permitted to enter?"
"Nothing really," Harry replied nonchalantly, acting as if he did this everyday. "I'll be gone in just a bit ... And you should fix that." His head jerked in the direction of the clock hanging on the wall above the Head Boy's door.
Hermione heaved a sigh, too tired to want to explain anything. And it was getting late!
In a bored tone, she said, "They don't need fixing. If I'm out, and - " she forced herself to spit out the name, "-Malfoy -" she couldn't help the fire that coursed through her veins at the taste of his name, "- is here, the clock above my door will show what time I'll be back. " Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. Hermione carried on in the same tone, "But if I change my mind whilst I'm away, the time on my clock will change as well. It's influenced by my decisions. His works the same way as well, when I'm here and he's away." Harry looked ready to interrupt. Hermione narrowed her eyes. "But, when I'm here my clock disappears. Same for him."
Harry didn't know which he was more surprised at: Hermione lacking enthusiasm when explaining a magical concept, or Hermione choosing to completely explain something she didn't even want to.
"You know," Harry said tentatively, "you could've just said you didn't feel like explaining." Harry always understood her.
Hermione looked apologetic. "Sorry, Harry, I'm just so messed up right now." She threw her hands in the air and plopped herself onto one of the couches, gazing up at his clock. Thirty minutes to go.
Harry got up and sat next to her on the couch, hugging her. "Ron and I are here for you. Don't ever doubt that."
Hermione smiled. "I won't. I don't."
They enjoyed a few minutes f comfortable silence, before Harry got up and said he had to leave. "He'll be back any minute now, so I best be off." Hermione's pulse sped up considerably. It's just nerves, is all, nothing more. Confronting Mal - him, wouldn't be that bad.
"Anyway, just thought I'd see how you are."
"Liar," Hermione teased.
Harry grinned. "Ron kind of kicked me out. Something tells me he doesn't take to Lavender Insults too kindly."
Hermione laughed, walking him to the door. "Goodnight, Harry ... Oh, hang on - your Cloak." Another wave of her wand, and it was covering Harry.
"'Night," Harry said. The door opened, and then closed behind him.
Hermione leaned back against the door, and sunk to the floor. She flicked her wand at the suspended candles in the room so that they went off. She thought better in the darkness. Only the dying fire was awake. She knotted her hands in her hair in frustration. What should she tell him? Where should she start? She sat there for a long time, contemplating. After a good few minutes, his clock made a hissing noise, like that of a snake, announcing his arrival.
She stumbled forward, so that she could get out of the way.
A figure stepped through, and closed the door behind him. The common room went dark once again, the fire completely snuffed. However, he tripped over the person on the floor. Darkness disguised anything as well as Invisibility Cloaks.
"Granger?" he whispered into the darkness.
She flicked her wand, and the candles burst to life again. She stood up, but didn't realize how close she was too him. She suddenly felt very warm, despite the biting cold. His eyes. His silver eyes. Rimmed by a thin black circle. Shades of grey flecked at various parts of his irises. Staring right into her. She was drowning in them ... She mentally slapped herself. Too close. She hastily retreated until she felt her working table's edge met the small of her back. She watched him raise his eyebrows in amusement.
"Malfoy," she bit out, trying to relieve her voice of any emotion. But she found it difficult to continue as if there wasn't a raging fire within her. The things he does to me. "We need to talk."
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A/N: Hermione, in this chapter, is confused about Draco, and what she feels for him. Everything is explained in chapter 3.
memories-in-hidden glass: Don't worry! That will all be explained in Chapter 3. Hopefully.
