The rest of the week passed by quickly. Hermione, who was greatly looking forward to the weekend, had already made plans with the rest of the seventh year Gryffindors to celebrate the end of the week by, as Seamus had put it, getting drunk off their asses. Hermione, to the surprise of Parvati, Lavender, Seamus, Dean, Neville, Ron, and Harry, had agreed to the party without a second thought.
"Hermione. We are talking about importing alcohol illegally into the Common Room." Dean had said.
"And Dumbledore hasn't changed the rules. Drinking inside of Hogwarts is still strictly forbidden." Lavender had stated.
"I know that, you guys. It's just, it's our last year! I don't want to miss a minute of spending time with you guys. And this is probably the last month we have to fool around like this, with the NEWTS and everything. I promise I won't cramp your style. I probably won't drink much anyways."
The rest of them had agreed with her and started making a list for Seamus and Dean to buy.
Hermione sighed as she finished up an essay due next Tuesday and looked at the clock. It was only 11, and the party wasn't due to start until midnight. (They had to, of course, wait until all the younger years went to bed). She looked across the room to Malfoy's empty desk. It was well organized, almost as well as her own, but Hermione hadn't seen him sitting there since the incident. She hadn't seen him anywhere, actually, except in class. He wasn't at any meals, he wasn't in their dorm when she woke up, went to sleep, or when she worked. She assumed he was spending all his extra time with his Slytherins, but when she had casually asked Zabini during their potions lesson where he was (Zabini was her assigned partner), Zabani seemed to think Malfoy was doing Head duties with her, and gave her a weird look at her question.
So Malfoy was avoiding her after his proclamation, that much was easy to see. When he had said it, it had surprised her. The fact that he admitted it alone made it shocking.
But Malfoy was also avoiding his own house. And lying about it. Hermione thought about it for a second, but then decided that wasn't really that surprising. Slytherins, of course, were known for lying, even among each other.
She decided not to think about it anymore, and go for a walk outside. The summer still hung in the air, warm and moist, but Hermione knew soon the grounds would be consumed by the briskness of fall, and soon the snow of winter. She had to post some announcements by the Great Hall anyways.
Before she left, she took a quick glance at the mirror by the door. She wore a plain black tee shirt, a pair of jeans, and sandals that showed off her deep blue toenails. Her hair fell in loose waves down to the middle of her back, the caramel color she had decided to dye it at the end of summer shimmering in the light.
She knew lots of girls her age were dying their hair, but her reason for it was probably not the same for them.
Her mother had had the same hair Hermione had. Long, dark brown locks, hardly containable in a hair band.
Her mother hadn't made it through the war.
Her father had been resistant to Hermione's decision, but since Hermione was now an adult, hadn't really pushed it. Hermione hadn't told him her reasons, but she suspected he guessed.
Not wanting to go down that path, Hermione pushed her new hair, hair that didn't remind her of sadness, behind her ears, and whisked through the door.
The halls were completely empty, which wasn't weird for a Friday night. She only ran into one person on her way down the magical stairwell, and, after posting her announcements (tutoring opportunities, new club openings, etc.), made it the rest of the way outside in peace.
The stars at Hogwarts had always amazed her. There was none of the light pollution her city had at home, and the light reflected off the lake, illuminating everything. She took her sandals off and walked along the length of the river, casually dipping her bare foot into the chilly liquid.
She looked up and identified several constellations they had recently learned in astronomy. A bit of a pop quiz, she laughed to herself.
The night was still. Calm. Not even a slight breeze in the air. Enjoying herself, Hermione carried on, not realizing until too late that she was now by the Forbidden Forest. She was about to turn around when she smelled something in the air. Cigarettes.
It can't be…
Theoretically she knew that he couldn't be the only student at the school who smoked cigarettes. Theoretically she knew anybody could be outside on a night like this. But for some reason, she knew it was him.
She walked quietly, her feet still bare, to the edge of the forest, where she saw him, leaning against a tree trunk, head tossed back, looking at the stars. He must have just finished his cigarette, because he tossed it into the darkness and then ran a hand absentmindedly through his hair.
He was, there was no other way to describe it, beautiful. He was wearing a tight pair of jeans and his white-collared uniform shirt, although the shirt was untucked, and the first few buttons were undone, exposing his absolutely pale and flawless skin to the moonlight.
His hair fell in disarray around his now closed eyes, and he looked almost peaceful. Like a fallen angel.
She must have subconsciously moved towards him, because all of a sudden she was within five feet of him. She stepped on a twig (ouch), and he startled.
"The one place I was sure you wouldn't find me, and here you are." He seemed tired almost, like he was giving up on something.
"It's not like I came here to see you personally, Malfoy. As if I cared that much about you. I was simply going for a walk." Her voice was harsh, too harsh. She worried he would see right through her lie. She tried to make her eyes casual, but she was always a bad actress.
"And you just happened to stumble into my neck of the woods?" His arms extended on either side of him and he began to close the distance between them. "I don't know who you think you are, Granger, but I wasn't lying about what I told you earlier. I cannot keep my eyes off of you. During meals, during class, when you are falling asleep at your desk because you are working too late. When you pull your hair back only to undo it seconds later to twirl it around your finger. I cannot stop. No matter what I do. I go out of my way to avoid you, and here you are." Somehow he had ended up right in front of her, their noses almost touching. "Well you know what? If you aren't going to make an effort, then why should I?" There was a moment in which he paused. "You're filthy," he whispered, "but you're beautiful."
She should have slapped him, she should have punched him, she should have done anything to make him stop. But, she did the exact opposite. She sprang into action the moment his lips touched hers. There was no hesitation on his part, and his tongue almost immediately forced its way in-between her lips. But she allowed him in. Their tongues, much like their relationship, battled for dominance, but in the end his won out. The kiss was intense, angry, controlling, and magical. His hands pulled her closer, not an inch inbetween there bodies. Her hands ran through his hair, finding it softer than she had even imagined.
There was a moment in which they both seemed to realize they needed air, so they pulled away. They were out of breath and Hermione couldn't look in his eyes, feeling the blush already appearing on her cheeks. Her heart was pounding at a rapid pace, and she wouldn't be surprised if he could hear it.
She noticed her arms had somehow found their way around his neck, and embarrassedly removed them. She could hear him groan as he took his hands off of her waist and turn his back to her.
"Just, leave me alone Granger." He grabbed out another cigarette and his lighter and started another smoke.
"Where did she come from?" Ginny whispered as Hermione ran back to the castle.
Five minutes later, Draco came walking out of the shadows back toward the castle, a perturbed look on his face.
"What if he doing here?" Ginny whispered again.
"Ginny, you said you would help me label this star chart!"
"Collin, darling, if we don't notice these things, then who will?"
Collin sighed and kept on with his chart.
"It seems like we have a forbidden romance on our hands…"